Silas: Imperial Warrior (A Sci-Fi Alien Warrior Romance) (5 page)

Hamara nodded, not taking her eyes off of the creatures in front of them. "A little boy. Completely drained."

"What?" Silas asked, but before he could get an answer as to what that even meant, the Fremeri were laughing again. "Please stop doing that," he muttered under his breath.

"He was delicious," one of the creatures spoke up. "So full of warmth. So fragile. It's easier when they're little. The skin just wants to...split."

A horrifying picture was being painted here, and Silas felt himself getting angry. They had killed a child tonight, maybe more than one, there was no telling what the rest of the team had found, and they were smug about. They had the audacity to stand there and gloat about what they had done. His fingers tightened around his weapon.

"So...wait," Cress was saying, and Silas made himself listen. "You eat people?" He sounded slightly hysterical, probably with good reason.

"Drink," Hamara said, lip curled in distaste. "They drank from the boy."

"So when you said drained..."

"Of blood," she clarified.

Cress went positively green.

"Delicious," the Fremeri said again, and this time licked its lips. Or what passed for lips.

Hamara shot again.

“Hamara,” Silas said, already weary of this. “Stand down.”

“Yes, Captain.” Her tone was reluctant, but she put away the blaster and took a step back.

The Empress was not going to be pleased. The Fremeri were draining her people, right under her nose, and hauling them in to answer for what they had done wasn't going to erase the mess they had already caused. And there was no telling how many Fremeri were lurking, waiting to continue this mess.

For a long moment, nothing happened. Neither HIMA nor the Fremeri moved. It was a standoff of sorts, even though Silas was the only one with his weapon out. He had to make a decision about what was going to happen here. Ammaline had instructed them to leave at least one of the creatures alive, so there was no reason why he couldn't let Hamara and the others keep shooting. Especially if they were killing children.

He opened his mouth to say as much, to suggest that they try to detain as many as possible, though, when the Fremeri closest to him broke out into a run.

The creature had swung forward so it was nearly galloping on all fours, and it was covering a lot of ground, towards a ship that was just a few hundred feet away.

"Stop!" Silas called, but his inattention meant that the others were getting away, too. The one who'd been shot in the thigh was hobbling, and Cress bounded forward and grabbed it, pulling the Fremeri back and holding on tight.

"Oh, no you don't," he said. "Not this time."

"Hold her, Cress," Silas said as he took off running.

"Where are you going?" Cress called after him, sounding incredulous."

"I'm in pursuit. Take that one back to the Empress!"

He could hear Cress mumbling, and Silas smiled a little to himself. It was a lot like the good old days before a difference in rank kept them from doing things like this together.

Although Silas was going to be on his own for the rest of this. He could see a speeder parked in the shuttle bay not far up ahead, and though the Fremeri had a head start, and were already scrambling aboard their ship, Silas wasn't worried. He was still practically the best pilot HIMA had, and no one had ever outrun him in space before. He'd catch up to the Fremeri and make them wish they had just complied with his orders.

Excitement pulsed in his veins, and his heart pounded.

This was something he had missed.

Chapter Two: Enterprising

Katia poked her head out of the tangle of covers as her alarm blared to life. She groaned, rubbing at her eyes and then stretching with a jaw cracking yawn before she reached over and quickly did the puzzle on her phone that would let her turn the alarm off.

It was a good thing the puzzle changed every day, or else she’d have learned how to do it in her sleep by now.

It was also a good thing it was a Friday, because Katia needed the weekend like she needed air to breathe. Granted, the only day she had off was Saturday, and that was because she’d hired someone specifically to handle the Saturday crowd.

Sundays were her favorite days, since there was a high tea in the afternoon, and she loved presiding over that, but honestly, every day was a good day when she was doing something she’d wanted to do for so long.

Three and a half years ago, she’d been still trying to scrape together enough money to make The Laureled Lily a real thing. It had just been an abandoned old mansion on the edge of town, covered in ivy and fraught with structural damage, termites, and mold. Honestly, it should have taken much longer than three years to get everything put together, but by some miracle, Katia’s great aunt had passed away and left her a significant chunk of her money in her will.

...The money was the miracle, not her great aunt dying. But the point was, that money had allowed her to quit one of the two jobs she had been working and still have money to put away for the inn.

And now it was a real thing. Shiny and painted and renovated, bursting with flowers and guests. It was right on the edge of town, which was perfect for the people who were just passing through and the people who wanted a quiet night away from home and anyone else who happened to find their way to The Lily, as the name had been truncated to.

Katia was delighted with the success.

On this Friday morning, she hit the button on her phone to make her morning playlist fill her bedroom and half danced, half stumbled around her room, pulling out her outfit for the day (a classy skirt with a smart blouse) and shucking off her pajamas so she could head for the shower. In her small kitchen, she heard the coffeemaker click on, and she smiled. Some people had significant others, but she had a coffeemaker that worked on a timer, and honestly that was just as good as far as she was concerned.

Katia padded into the bathroom, hips swaying slightly as she made her way to the lighted mirror above the sink and washed her face. Her bathroom was small enough that she could just lean over and turn on the shower to get the water heating while she surveyed her appearance in the mirror.

She had done a lot of dance in high school and college, and that showed still in her willowy figure and her natural grace. She was tall and slender, and she looked at herself in the mirror with a critical eye. She wasn’t as curvy as some of her friends or even some of the women in her family, and it wasn’t like she had time to exercise what with running her own business now, so she just assumed that she was going to stay that way. Her hips were softly rounded, just enough that someone could rest their hands there, and her breasts were small and perky, tipped in soft brown nipples.

The freckles that were dusted over her cheeks and forehead and nose were also scattered over the rest of her body, from her shoulders down to her stomach, and then lower to her thighs, and she made a face at the sight of them as she usually did.

Green eyes looked back at herself in the reflection, and Katia made a face at her messy hair. It was long and a mousy shade of brown, usually kept in a long braid that she coiled into a bun for work so she didn’t have to deal with it.

People were always telling her that if she did more with her hair or her makeup, she’d have a boyfriend by now. They went on and on about her flawless skin and how men liked girls with freckles and how her nose was pert and perfect and her eyes would look amazing if she did more with eye makeup, but honestly it all sounded exhausting.

She had enough to be keeping up with when it came to her business. The inn took up any free time that she would spend dating someone, and if her friends thought she was getting up any earlier than she already did just so she could make herself look ‘prettier’ then they had another thing coming.

Who had time for curling irons and eyeliner? Not her, that was for sure. More power to the women who did, but Katia was fine with her lip gloss and braid, and she nodded decisively as she stepped into the shower.

Two hours later, she was parking her car and getting out to stand in front of her inn.
Her
inn. Just thinking it made her shiver with delight. The four story building with two porches, three turrets, and spiral staircases was all
hers
.

The contractors and renovators had done a great job on the place, and Katia always had to take a minute to look it over when she arrived. The porches were still hung with ivy, but it was a carefully garlanded look now, instead of just masses of overgrowth. There were lights on strings woven into the ivy, as well, and at night they twinkled and lit up the porches to amazing effect.

The exterior had been painted a dark lavender color, and the columns were white, the sign done in both colors that proclaimed the name of her inn in script.

She walked up the stairs, sensible heels clacking on the wood as she made her way to the door and let herself in.

It was the fall, and apple season was just a few days away. The apple picking in this part of the state was amazing, so they were anticipating having a full house by the time October rolled around. People who wanted to get out of the city for a while and remember how fresh air smelled.

“Good morning, Katia,” said Harley, one of the housekeepers. She wheeled her cart out from the utility closet and made her way across the lobby with it.

“Morning, Harley,” Katia replied with a smile. There was something about this time of morning that just made everything seem softer, friendlier. She watched Harley go on her way and then made her own way to the front desk.

Ava was leaning against the wood, phone pressed to her ear and a bored expression on her face. She was the assistant manager of The Lily, so to speak. Basically everything Katia did during the day, Ava did at night, making sure that there was always someone on call to handle any emergencies or needs the guests had, even at night.

“I understand that, Mr. Moseley,” she was saying into the phone. “And it’s a terrible thing she did, but when you finalized your reservation, you agreed to our terms and conditions, which clearly state that if you cancel less than twenty four hours before your stay, you don’t get a refund. And according to my records, you’re due to check in at four this afternoon.”

Katia covered her mouth to stifle a laugh. Ava was not what she’d call a ‘people person’. A fact that made some people wonder why she’d been hired for a job in the hospitality industry. But she had a mind for organization and putting out fires, so Katia had been working with her on dealing with the guests and people on the phone. There was always one potential guest that would get her fired up, though, and Katia decided to spare her, since she’d been behind the desk for almost twelve hours.

She plucked the phone from Ava’s hand with a kind smile, laughing and shooing her off when Ava mimed bowing.

“Good morning, Mr. Moseley,” she said, in her most chipper voice. “Let’s see how we can help you today.”

“You’re too soft on them,” Ava said as they both sat in the kitchen with cups of coffee and scones made by the chef. “What’s the point of having the conditions, if you’re just going to bend them to make people happy?”

Katia buttered her scone, breaking a piece off and popping it into her mouth. “Delicious as always, Jerry!” she called to the harassed man in the back who was frantically stirring something. “Because it keeps them coming back, Ava,” she said to her friend. “Think about it like this. Say you wanted to return a shirt to the mall, but the store had a no refunds policy. If you talked to someone on the phone and were just told that they didn’t take refunds, no matter the situation, even if the shirt didn’t fit, even if it was ripped when you bought it, would you shop there again?”

“No,” Ava said, as if it should be obvious. She sipped at her coffee.

“Exactly. Now say the same store had a no refunds policy, but you decided to call anyway and someone decided to work with you. Maybe they couldn’t give you your money back because of the policy, but they offered you store credit. Or maybe they got you a percentage of your money back, even though the policy stated they didn’t have to. How would you feel, then?”

Ava rolled her eyes, clearly catching on to what Katia was trying to say to her. “Yeah, alright, I get it. That
would
make me feel better about shopping there again.”

“And that’s how we want the guests to feel. Seventy percent of our business is generated via word of mouth, you know. People like Mr. Moseley will tell their friends about our excellent customer service and the excellent time he had here, even if his wife just ran away with his business partner. Which means more business for us.”

“Right, right,” Ava said, smothering a yawn with her hand. “And then we keep getting paid, and everything’s wonderful, right?”

“In theory.” Katia grinned. “Anyway, get out of here. I’m not paying you to sit around and drink coffee.”

“Slave driver.”

“Rude.”

The two women laughed and finished their breakfasts before the day truly got started.

Fridays were always busy at The Lily. People usually checked in on Friday afternoons before they spent their weekends there, and so it was every bit of five o’clock in the evening before Katia had time to really take a break. She’d had lunch, but her stomach was growling, and she knew the sandwich shop down the block would have something to tide her over until she got home and could warm up something for dinner. Thank god for leftovers, right?