Chapter 2 #2
"Things should be easy enough. She has three Lokan bodyguards already, so I'm just there as extra security. If I need backup for any reason, I'll contact Isha."
"How far will you be from the safe house?" Skia asks, looking up from his comm.
"Too far for you to be who I call," I tell him, laughing internally when he gives me a quick nod and returns to his own job.
"Heat security." Kolos shakes his head in Skia's direction, already bored with bothering me. His smug smile reappears now that his chastisement from earlier has worn off. "As if I didn't need more reasons not to want to go to Earth."
Isha rolls her eyes, "Are you still on about that girl?"
"That girl?" Kolos gasps like he's been injured, and I just shake my head. At least they waited until the briefing was over before starting up their nonsense.
Skia doesn't even say goodbye as he walks out of the room.
He heads out, still reading over the information we have for the human woman he'll be watching over.
I'm glad he was the one to take on that job.
Not that I don't trust Isha to do a good job or be respectful, but her way of working with people is different than Skia's.
"If I have to hear about your heartbreaking rejection one more–"
The door slides shut behind me, leaving Isha and Kolos to continue their bickering.
It'll be some variation of the same argument we've heard time and time again.
Not that I don't sympathize with Kolos, but the man has made it difficult to feel too bad for him when he spends his free time attempting to sleep with as many species as he can.
Once a Sombran meets their mate, they start feeling the desire to be with them in all ways, and since Kolos was rejected before bonding to his, he's free to do as he pleases.
I flip through a few of the notes on my comm as I make my way through the main ship and head toward the smaller ship that acts as my personal space and transport.
We each have our own private ships that we use to get to our destinations when doing separate jobs.
Knowing Isha and Kolos are staying on the main ship means we'll meet back up with them docked on some party planet when we're ready to reconvene.
My shadows are all bunched up on my shoulders as if they're reading my comm as well. It would be funny if they weren't getting in my way and making it impossible for any of us to read the damn thing. I swipe my hand in front of my face, earning me irritated mutterings from a few of them.
"If you want me to read it, then get out of the way," I tell them.
They immediately comply. For some reason, they're more invested in this job than they've been for any before.
Swipe. Next. Swipe. Boring.
I flip through the documents, trying to find what they're all so eager to look at. They keep talking over one another, various forms of speech that all equate to, "swipe faster, body we share a mind with."
Stop!
They all screech in unison so loud I swear it's vibrating my brain inside my skull.
I scowl and curse at them, but they're not listening to me anymore.
No, they're all crowded around the screen like a frame around it, their little smoky tendrils gliding across the image, taking up one half of the screen.
It's an image of the woman I'm being tasked with protecting.
Most of her face is covered by a mask, a variation of which she wears when out in public as her anonymous persona.
Her light red hair is styled in waves of curls, the fringe of them hanging like curtains to frame her masked face.
As much as her mask covers her face, the clothing she wears does the opposite.
Not that I've ever really noticed or cared about that kind of thing until this photograph.
The brightly colored body suit she's wearing leaves her legs on full display.
Sequins and gemstones adorn the suit, and fringe hangs from the hem, swaying in motion as she poses for the picture.
She has curves, so many of them that I can't help but wonder how soft she is.
I tear my gaze away from her legs, forcing my shadows to do the same regardless of their grumbling.
Pretty.
The single thought comes from multiple shadows, and I close out of the image immediately.
Finding someone attractive is, well, that's new.
I stare at my reflection in the black screen of my comm.
My shadows are swirling all around me, acting more lively than they ever have before.
They're talking over one another, but they're talking to each other, not to me, and I don't try to force myself into their conversation.
Not when I'm trying to figure out what I'm supposed to do with my thoughts.
"You good?"
I look behind me to see Skia looking at me with furrowed brows, his shadows looking completely still compared to the swirling, dancing mess mine are making in the air around me.
"I'm good," I tell him, offering him little else.
He stares at me for a moment longer, and I feel him pressing a tendril against my mind, tapping against the barrier we're taught to surround ourselves with so other Sombrans can't get into our thoughts unless we want them to.
I mentally push him away, and it's a good enough test to make sure I'm fine to be left alone.
He doesn't comment on trying to pry before turning down his hallway.
"Are we good?" I whisper toward my shadows.
They continue their chatter, ignoring me altogether.
I clench my teeth, telling myself that I'm not about to let whatever this is cause the first failure of a job this security company has ever had.
So long as my shadows don't cause issues and listen to me, we should be fine.
I'll just ignore their chattering and pretend they're not talking about stuff they don't want me to know about.