Total pages in book: 139
Estimated words: 132437 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 662(@200wpm)___ 530(@250wpm)___ 441(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132437 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 662(@200wpm)___ 530(@250wpm)___ 441(@300wpm)
The click in the back of the restaurant traveled through the various rooms like a bird flushed and flying at her.
If she’d been a human, she never would have heard the quiet sound. But she wasn’t.
“Father?” she called out.
iAm was the only one who would come this late, after everybody else had left. She knew he missed the place, and guessed that he was counting down the years, the decades, until he could return. Funny, she hadn’t really thought about it before, but she envied him his interest and passion. She’d never had that in her life.
From out of nowhere, an image of Al’s face after she’d given him his first kiss took up all her mental bandwidth—
The memory disintegrated as a male she never expected to see at Sal’s emerged through the flap door. And for a split second, she didn’t know how to reconcile the civilian image before her with what she had always known of t’On. No ceremonial robes. No elaborate headdress. Her mother’s Tretary was dressed in pressed black slacks, a fresh white button-down, and a smartly tailored black suit jacket. He even had a jaunty gray and black handkerchief tucked into the breast pocket.
She had always been aware that he wasn’t ugly. Now she recognized him as… handsome. In a reserved kind of way.
“Hot date?” she drawled.
A flicker of distaste narrowed his eyes. “Of course not. With whom else would I ever…”
As t’On let that one go off into the rhetorical sunset, she flushed. “Oh. So this is for me.”
He unbuttoned the jacket. Rebuttoned it immediately thereafter, as if he wasn’t sure how it was supposed to fit or didn’t like the way the thing felt.
“I thought you might wish for me to present a more contemporary figure.”
Between one blink and the next, she thought of how great sweatshirts and jeans looked on a male.
“Perhaps you and I could go out to an eatery now, assuming we can find one that’s open.” He indicated the kitchen door he’d emerged from. “Or you could make me a repast of the Italian tradition?”
“I don’t cook.”
“Ah.” He inclined his head. “That leaves a human establishment, then.”
Denne crossed her arms over her chest and cursed those stupid stars. And the dumbass chart. And the whole tradition of her people that suggested anything could be predicted or should be determined by a celestial display that had been projected in Earth’s direction millions of years ago.
For fuck’s sake, half the twinkle-twinkles up there didn’t even exist anymore, right? Because it took that long for light to travel those interstellar distances. Yet here she was with this painfully awkward male in a suit he hated all because of the cosmos.
“t’On, you need to get real.” She shook her head. “You’d rather have scissors driven into your eyes than be anywhere near a human. Much less many of them, eating. That’s not your vibe, and it isn’t mine, either.”
His brows rose into his high, intelligent forehead. “You are correct, but I understand that a mating requires certain considerations for the other party. You enjoy your time herein so I assumed you found this environment… energizing in some fashion.”
“ ‘Enjoy’ is not a word I’d use.” She glanced around at the tables. “I don’t have much of an opinion about this place, actually. My father loves it. I love him. He can’t be here right now, so I come and make sure the trains run on time. It’s better than sitting around and doing nothing.”
t’On made a sound in the back of his throat and then idly wandered away to one of the booths. Picking up a water glass from a setting, he held it up to the light as if to inspect its cleanliness.
“So devoted a daughter you are.” He put the glass down, and clasped his hands behind the small of his back. “That is to be commended.”
“It’s just what you do.”
“Tell me something. Do you feel then the s’Hisbe is not as important as this commercial venture?” His black eyes shot over his shoulder. “Our traditions, your royal bloodline, the challenges faced nightly by the Territory, none of that is as significant to you as this place that serves food and kindles only diffidence in your heart?”
Denne narrowed her eyes. “I didn’t say that.”
“You do not have to. Your actions and priorities answer the question. Twenty-four hours after the sign and you’re still here. Working for the transitory, irrelevant pleasure of humans.”
“You know what, I think you need to go—”
“Do you know how I spent the day?” His long, dark hands steepled in front of his sternum as he turned back to her. “We had another visit from the humans who seek to destroy us.”
“Oh, come on.” Denne cursed under her breath. “Will you stop being so dramatic? Those paper pushers talking about taxes and religious exceptions are nothing to worry about—”