Midnight Mist (The Fever Brothers #5)

Chapter 1

Chapter One

Naomi

Double doors slide open and I gasp with surprise.

A crush of costumed beings and a wall of loud voices hit my sensitive human ears. Bright lights and laughter fill my senses. My gaze darts from one amazing alien outfitted in scary clothing, to the next.

I knew this event was a big deal but, wow.

The annual Dark Moon Costume Ball on the planet Timbur, a Xylan species outpost, is being held tonight within a giant cavern, inside Timbur’s famous Illibrium mine.

And therefore, this event is filled with Mine Corp employees dressed in gruesome costumes.

Wall to wall beings garbed as killers, warriors and bloody assassins or beasts, and even more vicious beasts.

A whimper escapes my lips because it’s a lot for one small human to take in.

The ceiling is so high in the enormous cavern it’s hard to clearly see the edges of rocky outcropping and the strings of lights held above that zig zag everywhere.

Old-fashioned candelabra are lit and positioned on heavy wooden tables and in dark corners.

Xylan music drums from a live band on a small stage.

Beings laugh and chat, exposing sharp fangs and flashing claws.

Everyone wears dark masks over the top of their faces, leaving holes for their glittering eyes.

There’s an array of dazzling costumes, but I can still detect their tall forms, long hair and powerful bodies, both male and female.

I’ve never in my life stood amongst this many Xylan in one place.

They’re intimidating. I am easily the shortest being in this crowd.

Luckily, I’m not arriving alone—that would be terrible.

Saxon, my best friend’s husband, hands our three invite chips to security as we enter the costume ball. “Dancing, eating, games and prizes for the best costume and last mask of the evening,” he yells out happily. “This is going to be great. Admin spared no expense for this event.”

Saxon of Nine is a Margol Xylan miner, dressed tonight as an ancient warrior with a fake bloody sword he holds in one claw.

Jeez, he’s a fright. He even wears chain mail over his wide chest and a fierce metal helmet on his head.

His long, dark braided hair flows down past his shoulders.

There’s a black mask over the top half of his face, which makes him scarier.

I smile as I watch his exuberance. Its infectious.

The miners on Timbur are basically celebrities in the four sectors, spoken of in awe and hushed tones.

The rare Illibrium crystals which cleanly power all the major industrial, military and tech hubs within the known universe are found only on this one planet and in this one mine.

And they are difficult to obtain. Illibrium crystals specifically “fever” bond amongst certain lines of the Margol Xylan and will only allow these chosen beings to carefully extract them from the mines.

The fact that my best friend fell in love with and married one of these famous guys and scored a job for herself on Timbur never ceases to amaze me.

Leah was in engineering at university, always knowing she wanted to eventually work at a mine.

Meanwhile, I studied art and marketing. We were roommates, thrown together in student housing at our first day in university and became fast friends.

I scored a one-month tourist visa to visit my friend, her husband and her young daughter, Argylia. I’m happy the timing is right and I’m able to finally visit this remote location she calls home.

Saxon’s other claw is positioned on the small of his Bride’s back as he guides Leah inside.

I follow beside them, the hem of my long, black gown swishing against the stone floor.

I was only cleared to attend the ball after I arrived, so there wasn’t much time to create a costume.

Normally, I don’t care much for costumes, so I was secretly pleased to have an excuse to not bother with a costume.

As long as I wore a mask and formal attire, I’d be allowed inside, so I went with a fancy gown, instead of a costume.

Although now that I look around, I worry because I’m the only one tonight who isn’t in costume.

Oops.

I love this elegant dress that we were able to fabricate.

The top is strapless and accentuates my waist and manages to make my small breasts look bigger than they actually are.

My long, straight, dark hair is styled into an updo at the nap of my neck and I’m wearing a bit of makeup.

Strappy heels in a gray metallic shine click on the floor.

A black mask and long, elbow-length green gloves complete the outfit.

“Isn’t this ball amazing?” Leah exclaims.

My friend is dressed as a ghost hunter and looks both cute and feisty in her tan utility pants, black boots and green jacket. She wears a black mask too, like everyone else.

Apparently, there’s a competition called “Last Mask” that ends right at midnight. The point is to be the only guest still wearing a mask, therefore having managed to remain anonymous, with no one guessing that being’s true identity until the stroke of midnight.

Leah flashes a smile at me. She’s comfortable and at ease in this crowd of Xylan because she’s a human mine tech employed by the mining corporation and these are all her coworkers. Timbur is her home and Saxon’s large family is also her family.

Meanwhile, I’m a stranger trying to adjust to this new setting.

I shake my head. “Um, it’s kinda scary,” I comment, wringing my hands.

“There’s nothing to be scared of, small human,” Saxon chuckles from beside me. “Humans are allies of the Xylan. We will always protect you from harm.”

I roll my eyes, because, yes, the Xylan did long ago come to the rescue of the enslaved humans on New Earth, freeing us from our evil captors, the Hurlians, for which we are forever grateful.

But the Xylan are also well-known for considering humans delicate and unable to care for themselves, which at times can be slightly insulting.

The Xylan are noble, but also a bit arrogant and full of themselves.

I’ve heard the Royal Pigment Xylan are even more arrogant than the Margol Xylan.

“The Xylan take their Dark Moon festival very seriously,” Saxon continues, looking over my head into the crowd.

“It’s a recreation of an ancient festival from our home planet, Chronos.

We enjoy celebrating it on Timbur because this planet happens to have a yearly eclipse similar to our home planet, so we hold it on a different date than Chronos but incorporate many similarities.

Be glad we do not still include events from ancient times, such as bloodletting and beheading between Morgols and Royal Pigment during costume disputes. ”

My eyes widen. “Thank you for the explanation.”

“No problem, Naomi Sato.”

He keeps saying my name that way, with the first and last name together at the same time, as if that’s how I should always be addressed. Before I can correct him, someone shouts to Saxon.

“Hook,” a deep-voiced, masked Xylan, dressed in a beastly costume, greets and slaps Saxon on the shoulder. “That was easy. I’d recognize those deadly fists anywhere.”

I’ve already learned that all the Timbur employees call Leah’s husband “Hook” because he’s notorious for his Mean Right Hook—his ability to slam an opponent to the ground with one massive blow of his colossal fist.

“Godsdammit,” Saxon yells back, snatching his mask off his face and snarling with frustration. “I barely stepped in the front door and the game is already over for me.”

“Come over here and join our crew,” the other Xylan laughs. “And you’ll also have a chance to guess my identity if you like.”

Saxon looks down at Leah for confirmation.

“Go,” she laughs. “Go. I’ll find you later. You’ll be doing me a favor, giving Naomi and I some time alone together.”

Saxon grins at his Bride. “I’ll be back,” he tells us both. Then he gives Leah a quick kiss and he’s gone.

Bloodletting? I mouth. Beheading?

Leah bursts out laughing.

“Your husband is scary. They’re all scary.”

She laughs again. “You’re so funny. Don’t worry, Naomi. I’ve lived and worked here on Timbur for two years now. It’s safe. The Xylan look intimidating, and yes sometimes they are arrogant, even the Margol Xylan, but they are kind and treat me well. And they like humans and think we’re charming.”

I push my mask up further on my nose, trying to keep it more firmly in place. “Charming?” I snort. “I’ve never been described that way in my life. My entire family considers me annoying. I mean, they’ve even banished me.”

“That’s because your father and brother are jerks and can’t see your value. But I do.”

Leah’s words hit harder than she probably intended.

Banished. I used the word like a joke, but it’s not really funny, is it?

I glance around the crowded cavern, watching all these Xylan laugh and mingle with their coworkers and friends. They belong here and have a place. Meanwhile, I’m a tourist with a one-month visa and nowhere to go when it expires.

Six months ago, I had a career path. A family business. A future.

Sato Marketing was supposed to be mine someday.

My father built it from nothing. A tiny advertising agency on New Earth that grew into one of the most respected branding firms in the sector.

I started working there as a teenager, learning the business from the ground up.

My creative work and exhibitions won awards.

I brought in new clients. I was being groomed to take over.

And my stepbrother, Kenji, hated every second of it.

He’s three years older than me but half as talented, and he knows it.

He’d smile to my face at family dinners while quietly undermining me at every opportunity, suggesting to our father that I was “too emotional” to handle big accounts.

He said I lacked the business instincts needed for leadership and my artistic temperament made me unreliable.

I ignored it. Kept my head down and did good work. I thought the results would speak for themselves.

Then Venko Industries came calling.

Venko is one of the largest manufacturing corporations in the four sectors. Landing their account would have been huge for us, the kind of prestige that puts a small agency on the map permanently. My father was practically salivating. Kenji was already calculating his bonus.

But I did my research.

Venko’s factories on the outer colonies operate on a system that’s technically legal but morally bankrupt.

Workers sign contracts they don’t fully understand, then find themselves trapped for years, working off “debts” that never seem to shrink.

The conditions are brutal. The pay is a joke and anyone who complains gets their contract extended.

This is barely a step removed from what the Hurlians did to humans before the Xylan freed us.

When I brought my concerns to my father, he waved me off. “That’s not our problem, Naomi. We’re not responsible for how they run their business. We just make the ads.”

“We’d be helping them recruit more workers,” I argued. “We’d be complicit.”

Kenji rolled his eyes so hard I’m surprised they didn’t fall out of his head. “This is exactly what I’m talking about, Dad. She doesn’t understand how business works. You can’t let personal feelings interfere with—”

“These aren’t personal feelings,” I snapped. “This is basic ethics. Wed be lying to people. Luring them into a trap.”

My father’s expression hardened. “The decision is made. We’re taking the account.”

So, I made a decision of my own.

I leaked Venko’s internal labor reports to a journalist friend. Names were redacted, but there was enough detail to spark an investigation. Within two weeks, Venko was dealing with a PR nightmare. They pulled out of negotiations with us, claiming we had a “security breach” they couldn’t overlook.

My father knew it was me. I didn’t even try to hide it.

The screaming match that followed was epic.

Kenji stood behind our father with this smug little smile on his face, finally getting everything he’d ever wanted.

I was fired on the spot. Told to clean out my desk.

Informed that I was no longer welcome at Sunday dinners or holiday gatherings or anywhere else the Sato family might be present.

My father’s last words to me were: “You’re no daughter of mine.”

He hasn’t taken my calls since. Kenji blocked me on everything. My aunt sent me a message saying she was “so sorry” but she “couldn’t get involved.”

And just like that, I went from heir apparent to family pariah.

Was it worth it? I still don’t know. The journalist’s story ran, and Venko faced some fines, made some promises to reform.

Whether anything actually changed for those workers, I have no idea.

But I couldn’t have lived with myself if I’d stayed silent.

I couldn’t have looked in the mirror every morning knowing I’d helped trap desperate people in that system.

So here I am, jobless and estranged from my entire family.

Staying in my best friend’s guest suite on a remote mining planet, pretending I’m on vacation when really, I’m just..

. hiding. Trying to figure out who the hell I am and what I’m going to do next.

I’m genuinely thrilled for Leah, my friend who is happily settled on this outpost with a job and family.

I am. But I admit I’m also a little jealous.

I force a smile and shake off the self-pity. Tonight isn’t about my family drama, it’s about reconnecting with my best friend and pretending, for one evening, that I belong somewhere too.

“Come on,” she bumps against my shoulder, grabs my hand and pulls me along. “We finally have a moment alone. Let’s get this party started.”