Chapter 30
SANTIAGO
Anew batch of riffraff from the underbelly of Cybele Station staggered through the doors of Signet Security’s HQ.
They stank of sweat, unwashed pits, and dying bravado.
Kaal and Santi shoved the pair of disgraced Accord Legion rats into the temp brig set up in the rear of Lieutenant Darro Rexus’ former office, now theirs.
The door hissed shut with satisfying finality.
‘Another lot of massive babies crying for their mamas,’ Kaal muttered, cracking his knuckles.
‘Or rather gigantic stinkers. Doesn’t this freakin place have another lockup?’ Santi growled, wrinkling his nose, his entire essence affronted. ‘Our guests reek foul.’
‘Nada, this is it, XO. Get used to hosting a few fruity friends with their musky, heavy molecular scents that are downright bizarre. Must be the algae on the station.’
Miral sighed and rubbed her temples. ‘Please, both of you. Call it a stink and let’s be done with it. We’ve more important shit to do.’
She was deep in the station’s system, her fingers dancing across a secured data pad as code scrolled like water down glass.
‘Rexus was dirtier than a Targon sinkhole,’ she called out. ‘He skimmed from every shipment that passed through Cybele. He even spliced his wife’s accounts with export tax credits. A real family man.’
‘Anything actionable?’ Santi asked.
‘Plenty,’ she said. ‘I even found a holo of him crying while being beaten up by a cartel mob boss so he’d sign off on a bribe. I might frame it.’
Santi cracked a wry smile, but it didn’t stick.
Not these days. Nothing amused him for long.
‘Thirsty from your jaunt?’ Miral asked.
When both men nodded, Miral handed them one of the drinks from the rec station’s kitchenette.
Kaal’s face twisted with disdain as he took a swig. ‘Fokk, this is watery sludge pretending to be a stimulant.’
Santi sipped and gulped, choking. ‘What is this? Battery fluid?’
‘It’s the machine in here, it’s brew stinks,’ Miral replied dryly.
‘It’s flavored like dirty soapy water that Kaal wrung out of his socks,’ Santi grimaced.
‘Careful,’ Kaal grunted. ‘My hosiery has seen war.’
Miral smiled. ‘Sounds like you’d be up for some of the best kahawa this side of the sector.’
Santi eyed her over the brim of the offensive drink. ‘Spill the tea or in this case the fokkin’ kaffeine.’
She didn’t even blink. ‘There’s a place near Junction Two. Called the Kahawa Metro. An old-world fusion approach to bringing fresh beans roasted in-house. They even offer a cold-pressed brew. You’ll want a cup from their awesome new barista.’
‘How do you know about it?’
She tapped her screen and shrugged. ‘Great reviews, baby. I’ll come with you.’
‘Fokk, me too,’ Kaal grunted. ‘I need a kickass pick me up.’
The trio of Signet executives prowled through the station, took an elevator, and, following Miral, headed toward a small neon sign that announced their destination: the Kahawa Metro.
The scent hit Santi first, a full-throated roast, laced with cardamom and sun-pressed citrus.
‘Hell yeah,’ he growled as he stalked through the doors.
The air inside the café was warm with steam and soul.
He grinned with anticipation until his eyes fell on a silhouette behind the bar, apron tied at the waist.
He slowed his roll, heart slamming under his jumpsuit.
She was familiar to him like the back of his hand, tresses shorter but unmistakably hers.
She was moving, pouring, wiping, fokkin alive?
He blinked once more, staring at her spine, at her frame, body, curves, hips, and thighs, which he’d never excise from his mind.
‘The fokk?’
Santi stumbled forward two steps before his world blurred.
His breath came out in staccato bursts, his chest seized, and for a moment, he bent over, clutching his knees to stop his head spinning.
When he stood upright again, she was still in front of him.
Still real, her back to him, oblivious of his presence.
His lips scarcely moved, but still his rasp edged out. ‘Soleil?’
She froze, her spine braced, then she whipped around.
Her inhale was audible, piercing, a gasp that tore through his spine like lightning.
They locked eyes.
Time stopped, and all noise faded.
Everything vanished except her.
She blinked, raked him from head to toe.
‘Mi sol.’
She took a breath at his raw rasp, her face blanched, and then she swiveled away, keeping her stance calm, controlled, and freakin’ poised.
She reached for another customer’s mug and began pouring kahawa.
Like he wasn’t there.
As if he hadn’t just clawed his way through weeks of suffering, thinking she was dead.
He clutched his chest, his soul cracking, the scars he’d worked on torn off, leaving him bleeding and exposed.
A wild tear hit him, and he whirled around, full of fire, his eyes burning as he pinned down Miral.
‘You knew.’ His timbre rasped like torn gravel. ‘You’re across this. That’s why you brought me here.’
The Synth AI didn’t flinch. ‘I did,’ she murmured. ‘I want you to be happy, Santi. So, not sorry.’
His utterance dropped to a growl. ‘Fokk you.’
He huffed, torso heaving. ‘Get the fokk out of my face.’
Miral exchanged glances with Kaal, whose expression was incredulous.
‘Damn,’ Kaal whispered.
‘You too, brother.’
‘No kahawa then?’ Kaal groaned.
He flinched when Santi bared his fangs at him.
‘Sawa, we’re out.’
The pair of Signet operators left, with Miral shooting a smile at Soleil and a wink of encouragement on her way out.
Santi’s spectral power flared, sending a wild charge through the place.
Followed by his whisper, a guttural command ghosted over the room, threading through neural links and audio nubs:
‘Clear out.’
A chill swept the air.
Cups rattled. Breaths caught, and feet rustled as customers dashed to escape.
A man, who must have been the café’s rotund manager, bristled from behind the counter. ‘You can’t just -’
Santi’s form shimmered with his ethereal wolf force, his sapphire and violet eyes burning, claws extending.
The kinai paled. ‘Hell, I knew it. I sensed she’d be trouble when I hired her.’
He too fled.
Soleil remained, hands crossed over her chest as she glared at Santi’s roiling silhouette.
When the cafe emptied, he raised a privacy shield, opaque, sealed, isolating them both inside a moment he never dared dream possible.
Then he sat hard in the nearest chair, collapsing under the burden of his agony, his head swimming with the realization she was alive.
He stared at her, his pulse hammering, and she met his gaze without flinching.
Finally, he summoned his inner strength and stood slowly, walking to her.
He made an involuntary reach to touch her.
When she flinched, his entire body recoiled like he’d been stabbed.
His voice was a prayer of ash. ‘It’s me, mi sol.’
Her reply was colder than the freezing vacuum of space. ‘I see that, and I’m the woman you made feel like shit on your shoe the last time we met.’
Santi’s gaze fluttered shut as he took harsh inhales, his heart closing to imploding, unsure if he could survive this.
He jerked open his eyes finally, shaking his head. ‘How are you alive?’
She tilted her head, as if weighing whether he was worthy of the intel.
Finally, she shared in a flat, monotone voice. ‘I escaped in a racing skimmer, riding the wave of the blast.’
‘Fokkin’ badass.’
‘You’d better believe it.
‘Can we talk?’ He ventured, his utterance hoarse with desperation.
She gave him another cold one over. ‘I’d rather not, you said what you meant when we last spoke.’
‘Soleil, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean the shit I uttered then.’
She jolted, her eyes clouding over, and she blinked. ‘What you said might be unforgivable.’
‘Nada, mi sol -.’
‘I don’t have time for this. My boss is going to dock my pay for taking an unexpected break, and I’m not in the mood. I need my space. You have to leave.’
She turned her back on him and moved to a sideboard, busying herself with tidying it up.
He should’ve walked away.
However, a stern resolve inside him, his soul stubborn and gutted, wouldn’t let him.
Unable to believe she was shutting him out, Santi followed.
He reached for her, wanting to cradle her head like he used to, to trail his mouth over her temple all the way to her earlobe.
To love her like he once did, like she deserved.
His fingers almost touched heaven when she twisted to face him, pulling back.
Eyes guarded, brimming with sad resignation.
‘Don’t,’ she said quietly. ‘I beg you.’
His hand fell, twitching at his side.
‘I’ll leave in a minute,’ he murmured. ‘Please let me say this.’
Soleil’s lips pressed together. She didn’t nod, but neither did she walk away.
It was the smallest mercy he’d ever hoped for, and he clung to it like oxygen.
‘I was freakin wrong,’ he started, voice rough. ‘Not just a little mistaken. Not the kind of wrong you say sorry for in a breath and get over. I was cruel because I made it about me.’
His throat burned.
‘I didn’t stop to think what it meant for you to have lived through that; what it cost you to be her, The Red Queen. I understand now it was not by choice or desire but because monsters forced your hand. And -.’
He swallowed hard.
‘I reacted to the chaos, mi sol, and refused to acknowledge the chains.’
Her lashes lowered, but she still didn’t speak.
Silence stretched taut between them.
Santi stepped closer, speaking with care. ‘You don’t owe me forgiveness. I don’t expect it. I’m not here either to justify my behavior.’
He dropped to his knees right there on the concrete floor of the Kahawa Metro.
‘I should’ve seen you, Soleil,’ he rasped, head bowed. ‘Not the legend. Not the lies. You. I might’ve asked what happened. Not assumed it. I ought to have listened when you shared and trusted you at the end.’
His rasp cracked. ‘I should have burned the goddamn galaxy to keep you safe. Instead -.’
He gazed up, eyes burning. ‘I made you feel like shit by choosing to believe you were the monster they tried to mold you into.’
Her mouth pressed into a line, eyes shadowed, unreadable.
He dug deeper, fracturing himself open.