Chapter 23 #2
The market sprawled across several blocks, a mix of permanent shops and temporary stalls selling everything from fresh produce to alien tech.
The crowd was diverse as ever, everyone mingling and haggling and going about their business.
She loved the energy and noise of the market.
The reminder that life continued in all its messy, complicated glory.
They stopped at their usual produce stall, where the vendor—a kindly Tillichi female named Marta—always saved the best fruit for them.
“Looking radiant today, dear,” Marta said, packing up their order. “How much longer?”
“Three months, give or take.”
“And feeling well?”
“Tired. Hungry. The baby thinks my bladder is a trampoline. But otherwise good.”
“That’s how it goes.” Marta added extra berries to their bag. “For the little one. Growing children need their vitamins.”
Mikoz chose that moment to grab a strand of her hair and yank, earning a yelp.
“He’s definitely growing,” Anya said, gently extracting the hair from his fist. “Growing into a tiny menace.”
They moved through the market, checking off items from her carefully organized list. Bread from the baker who used organic wheat.
Thick steaks from the butcher to surprise Selik.
A new blanket for Mikoz from the textile merchant who’d become a friend.
She was examining a set of small clothes, trying to determine if they’d be too big for a newborn, when the feeling hit her.
The prickling awareness of being watched.
She turned slowly, scanning the crowd. Nothing obvious. Just the usual mix of shoppers and vendors going about their day. But the feeling persisted. Stronger now.
“Corinne?” Anya had noticed her stillness. “What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know. I just—”
Then she saw him.
A Cire male, standing near the entrance to the market. Tall and broad like Selik, but with lighter green skin. He wasn’t looking at her directly, but something about his posture suggested awareness.
“Anya,” she said quietly. “Don’t turn around, but there’s a Cire male near the entrance.”
Anya tensed but kept her eyes forward. “Council?”
“I don’t know. Maybe. Or maybe I’m being paranoid.”
“Better paranoid than sorry.” Anya shifted closer. “What do you want to do?”
Her mind raced through the options. They could leave through the back exit. Or try to lose him in the crowd. Or confront him directly and demand to know what he wanted.
Or she could be completely wrong and this was just a random Cire who happened to be shopping at the same market.
She glanced back. The Cire was still there, now talking to a vendor. But his eyes—as black as Selik’s—kept drifting in her direction.
“We’re leaving,” she decided. “Casual. Like we’re done shopping.”
“Okay.”
They moved through the crowd at a measured pace, not running but not dawdling either. She kept Mikoz’s carrier close, one hand on his back to steady him.
The Cire followed. Not obviously. He maintained distance. Stopped at stalls to examine merchandise. But he was definitely tracking them.
Her heart hammered against her ribs. Stay calm. Don’t panic. Get somewhere safe.
They turned down a side street, heading toward the main plaza where there would be more people. More witnesses. Harder to do anything suspicious. The Cire turned down the same street.
“He’s definitely following us,” Anya whispered.
“I know.”
“Should we run?”
“Not yet. If we run, we confirm we know he’s there. And I can’t run very fast right now anyway.” She put a hand on her belly, feeling the baby shift restlessly. I know, little one. Mommy’s scared too.
They emerged into the plaza, bright and crowded with midday shoppers. She spotted a cafe with outdoor seating, public and visible. Perfect.
“There,” she said.
They claimed a table near the center of the seating area, surrounded by other patrons. She ordered tea she didn’t want and tried not to stare at the plaza entrance. The Cire appeared a moment later. He didn’t approach, but he didn’t leave either. Just stood near a fountain, watching.
“I need to call Selik,” she said.
“Already on it.” Anya had her comm device out, fingers flying. “I’m sending our location and telling him it’s urgent.”
Mikoz squirmed in his carrier, fussing. Corinne pulled him around to her front, settling him on her lap. He immediately grabbed for her tea.
“No, baby. Too hot.” She redirected him to a piece of bread instead. “We’re okay. Everything’s okay.”
But her voice shook slightly, betraying the lie.
The Cire still hadn’t moved. Just stood there, arms crossed, expression unreadable.
What does he want? Is he alone? Are there others?
Her mind spun through scenarios, each worse than the last. The Council taking Mikoz. Taking her baby. Selik fighting to protect them and getting hurt or killed. Their perfect little life shattered in an instant.
“Selik’s coming,” Anya said. “He’ll be here in ten minutes.”
Ten minutes. An eternity and no time at all.
Corinne held Mikoz close, breathing in his familiar scent—baby soap and fruit and sunshine. He babbled happily, oblivious to the danger, reaching for her hair again.
“Not the hair, sweetness. How about this instead?” She pulled out a small toy from the bag, a wooden block Selik had carved. Mikoz grabbed it with delight, immediately trying to chew on it.
The Cire shifted position. Moved a few steps closer.
Corinne’s breath caught. “Anya—”
“I see him.”
“If he comes over here, you take Mikoz and run.”
“I’m not leaving you.”
“You’re the fastest. You can get him to safety.” She met Anya’s eyes, trying to project calm authority she didn’t feel. “Please.”
Anya’s jaw set in a stubborn line that reminded Corinne painfully of her late husband. “Fine. But only if he actually tries something. I’m not running from some guy just standing there.”
“Fair enough.”
The minutes crawled. She sipped tea. Anya pretended to read something on her datapad. Mikoz happily destroyed his wooden block, drool running down his chin.
And the Cire watched. She could feel his attention like a weight on her shoulders. Not threatening exactly, but not friendly either. Assessing. Calculating.
What does he want?
A commotion at the plaza entrance made her look up. Selik strode through the crowd, parting it like water. He moved with predatory grace, every line of his body radiating danger. Their eyes met across the distance. She saw relief flash in his expression, followed immediately by fury.
He’d spotted the other Cire.
She stood, pulling Mikoz against her chest. “Selik—”
But he was already moving, heading straight for the stranger with single-minded focus. The other Cire straightened, hands coming up in a placating gesture. He said something she couldn’t hear over the crowd noise.
Selik stopped a few feet away, tail lashing, every muscle tense.
They spoke. The stranger said something, and Selik responded, voice low and dangerous.
The stranger gestured toward her and the children, and Selik moved to block his view.
The conversation continued, tense and rapid.
She itched to go over there, to hear what they were saying, but Anya grabbed her arm.
“Wait,” she said. “Let Selik handle it.”
“But—”
“If it’s a fight, you being there makes it harder for him to protect you. If it’s not a fight, you being there doesn’t change anything. Either way, we stay here until he signals.”
She hated that Anya was right, but she stayed put, holding Mikoz tight, watching her mate face down potential danger.
The conversation ended abruptly. The stranger said one more thing, then turned and walked away, disappearing into the crowd.
Selik watched him go, then immediately crossed to their table.
“Are you hurt?” His hands were on her face, her arms, checking for injuries. “Did he touch you?”
“No. We’re fine. He just—he was watching us. Following us.” She clutched at his shirt. “I’m sorry. I should have stayed home. I shouldn’t have—”
“This is not your fault.” He pulled her against him, awkward with her belly and Mikoz between them but necessary. “Never your fault.”
“Who was he?”
“Someone I need to speak with. At home. In private.” He looked at Anya. “Gather your things. We are leaving now.”
They moved quickly through the market, his hand firm on her back.
He scanned constantly, looking for threats, positioning himself between them and the crowd.
The walk home felt impossibly long even though it was only a few blocks.
Her feet hurt. Her back ached. The baby was pressing on her bladder with renewed enthusiasm.
But she didn’t complain. She just focused on putting one foot in front of the other, on keeping Mikoz calm, on breathing through the residual fear making her hands shake.
When they finally reached their house, Selik checked every room before allowing them inside. He locked the doors, closed the shutters, and transformed their home into a fortress. Only then did he sit down, pulling her onto his lap despite her protests about being too heavy.
“Tell me exactly what happened,” he said. “Everything.”
So she did. The feeling of being watched. Spotting the Cire. The way he followed them. Every detail she could remember. When she finished, Selik was quiet for a long moment.
“He said his name is Taranov. He said he had information about the Council and their plans that he wished to share.”
Her breath caught. “What information?”
“He did not want to discuss it in public. He is coming here in two hours.” His arms tightened around her. “He did say that the Council is actively searching for Cire children.”
The fear she’d been holding at bay crashed over her. “What do we do?”
“We prepare,” he said grimly. “And we hope that perhaps this stranger is telling the truth about helping us.”
“You don’t trust him.”
“I trust very few people. But his information aligns with my concerns.” He kissed her temple. “I will not let them take our family, s’kara. I will die before I allow that to happen.”
“Please don’t die,” she said, her voice shaky. “I need you. The children need you.”
“Then I will not die. I will fight. And I will keep you safe.” He cupped her face, forcing her to meet his eyes. “Do you trust me?”
“With my life.”
“Then trust that I will find a way through this.”
She kissed him, trying to pour every ounce of faith and love into the gesture. Trying to believe that trust would be enough. But as the next two hours dragged by she couldn’t shake the feeling that their perfect little life was about to shatter.
And there wasn’t a damn thing she could do to stop it.