Page 40 of Tempting Fate

“I do.” Did that little smile mean she was pleased to see me? Begging Tokki that first night here had been mortifying, but Imani might be a friend. My hope is the spinner’s web that endures the storm. “Would you mind coming here later? Orukem will not be back.”

“You want me to come… for kalidi?”

“Yes. Please. Or I will have the same argument with Grilahki this evening, and I have not the energy.”

At that, she huffed out a sharp breath. “I don’t want you to have to argue with her or feel uncomfortable about something so... vulnerable and intimate.” Her jaw tightened, that same firmness as when she’d made demands of Daiytak and Grilahki, expecting to be obeyed. “If you want me to, I will.”

A strange excitement swelled in my chest, and I pushed it down. “It’s not about what I want. It’s your choice, if you want to do it.” My ear ridges burned. Gods, why had I said it like that? Of course she would not want to do it. “I mean if you don’t mind.”

“I said yes, didn’t I?”

This should not excite me. I pressed a hand to my face, gathering my thoughts. Talking with Imani was normally easy, but trying to think of the right words took more energy than I had. “Thank you.”

“You’re tired? I should go.” In a stern tone, she added, “And you should sleep.” Her stare sent ripples through me.

“No.” This word came easily, a simple truth with a touch of defiance. And with it, a frisson of excitement, as if challenging her might bring… what, I didn’t know, but something. “Unless you want to go?”

Imani glanced at the door, hands on her hips, accentuating her curves. Then she shrugged. “If you want company, I’ll stay.”

The room warmed and brightened. I relaxed into the bed, hoping she took my small smile for the thanks it was.

Imani took a mug from my nightstand and refilled it with water, then set it in my hands. “Drink.”

I did as she bid me, then focused on my body, taking a few breaths to gather some energy. “Will you tell me about you? Tell me a story? Distract me from this.” I waved my arms feebly and let them drop to the bed. Though Tokki had said I should be through withdrawal now aside from kalidi, my fatigue still came and went.

Her gaze roved around the room before settling back on me. “So, hi, I’m Imani Cassandra Adeyemi. I’m thirty three, and I’m a human from New Earth.” She rubbed the back of her neck. “I’m one of only thirteen humans to be citizens of the Allied Galaxy.”

“How?”

“I went on an illegal weekend away.”

At the mischievous smile on her face, my stomach knotted, and with a curious rush of truth, I realised it wasn’t the usual nausea. What is this?

“Even though humans aren’t allowed out of our solar system, the Galactic Alliance can’t patrol everywhere,” she continued. “There have been small ships coming in and out of human space for years. Some of my friends met a kri’ith corsair and arranged a ride to Tathar Refuge. Have you heard of it?”

I swung my head. No, all I knew was Orith—that, and whatever I’d gleaned from trading.

“It’s a dive of a space station really. But we wanted to get a taste of the galaxy. See new people. Hear new music.” Her eyes turned towards the window but fixed on the middle distance, as though lost in her memories. Her body went unnaturally still. “It was fun, until the riot.”

She reanimated with a deep, laboured breath, looking so sad, I ached to comfort her.

“We had nothing to do with it, but the Galactic Reserve arrested us all and took us far away.” She shook her head, as if clearing the memory. “We can’t go back, so we ended up here, Fenn and I—and Garrison, though he didn’t want to be here. He was always meant to be with Captain Shohari, even if they were too stubborn to admit it.”

“He is her mate.” The idea of my sister mated to someone who wasn’t kri’ith did not feel as uncomfortable as it once had; Shohari’s happiness was one of the things I could take with me into my new life, her presence a link between the past and the future.

“I’m glad. Garrison is a good man. The best. He’ll look after her. Not that she needs it, she’s very capable, but he’ll do it all the same.”

“On the contrary, she does need it.” After all she’d been through, I couldn’t think of anything she needed more. What would it be like to have someone to look after? To look after me? To have that happiness? It was, most literally, an alien concept. Even if I’d been born a typical kri’ith, love and affection of the sort my sister now enjoyed were not a normal part of Orithian life. “What about the other humans? Where are they?”

Her face shuttered, and I wished I could wipe her sadness away. “Here and there. We split up. I wish we hadn’t. Your sister dropped most of us off where we were going.”

Why had they split up? Where were they now? But I had to ignore my curiosity; it would not do to make her more sad. “Tell me more about you. Before.”

“Are you giving me orders again, Airida?” A smile played about her mouth, but the steel behind her words made me shiver, as did the pointed way she said my name.

I worried my top lip with my tusks. “No. And I apologise again for that.”

She waved her hand, as if brushing my words away. “You already did that. It’s water under the bridge.”