Page 70 of Tempting Cargo
The potent aroma of fresh chrya called to me, and my hand reached for Shohari, settling on her arm with a featherlight touch. “Can I get you a chrya, Captain?”
It seemed fitting.
Whether her smile was going to be large or small, sad or accepting, I didn’t get a chance to find out, because as soon as her lips began to turn upwards, they fell open, along with her whole jaw.
I whipped my head round. Three people I could only describe as part kri’ith, part something else, stood at another food stall, laughing with each other as they ate from small baskets.
Shohari looked horrified, confused, and terrified all at once.
I grasped her arm. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”
The distance we’d built vanished. “Airida,” she breathed, her voice strangled, clutching at me. She wrenched her eyes from them, her amethyst orbs glistening and shifting as she frantically grasped for control. “They look just like my brother.”
“Spines of Kri, your brother is—” Paiata shut his mouth as one of the group rolled his broad shoulders and marched towards Shohari in long, determined strides.
His face was kri’ith, but his mouth wasn’t as wide, and his nose was more prominent. Dark shading like eyebrows decorated his ridged brows. An angry sneer twisted his familiar-yet-not features, and we heard him before he’d crossed half the distance between us.
“What are you staring at, kri’ith?” He spat the last word like a slur. “Are you Orithian? You think you’re better than us? Skykking zealots.”
I was in motion before I could think, putting myself between them. “What did you just call her?”
“You heard me. Bigots like her have no place on Vadias.”
When he took another step, I was ready—eager—to put my hands on his chest and shove. “Don’t fucking touch her.”
“I wouldn’t want to. You should take more care with the company you keep.” With one last disgusted glare, he stalked back to his companions.
Shohari was still staring, her mouth open, so I blocked her line of sight with my body, cupping her cheek. “Are you okay?”
“I don’t know,” she whispered. “What does it mean?”
I had no answers for her, but these people looked like her brother. It had to mean something.
The sense of wrongness that plagued me morphed into a strange anticipation, a tingle gathering in my gut, a restlessness under my skin that demanded I move.
I gripped Shohari’s upper arms. “Stay here. Please.” Then I was striding towards the strangers before I could think about what I was doing.
“I need to talk to you.” My gaze was direct, demanding, and I wasn’t leaving until I had answers. “I’m sorry for any offence caused, but you jumped to the wrong conclusion.”
The one who’d spoken bore a sneer of contempt. “Why should I care?”
“BecauseIcare. I want to know why the sight of you caused that reaction.”Shohari, forgive me for telling him your business. “You look like her brother, and she doesn’t understand.”
The press of bodies behind me wasn’t that of the crowd. Paiata stood by my left shoulder, the shaa guide by my right.
“Peace, Tokoran,” she said. “Please. Will you give these people a moment of your time?”
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Under my spines
Shohari
I QUESTIONED everythingI’d been taught.
I knew I was staring. I knew I was causing a scene. I wanted to run, to leave this planet and the twofold pain it inflicted on me.
My eyes roved over and over the trio who looked so much like my brother my heart ached. The healthy trio with bright eyes and energy ready to fight. The trio Garrison and Paiata were talking to.
