Optorio Chronicles Collection

Optorio Chronicles Box Set I – Sons of Optorio

Book One – Sons of Optorio

Chapter One: Baz

I was glad to have some time to myself, away from the pressures of my father and his advisors. I knew he was dying and that his time would be coming soon. Which meant that my time would, unfortunately, be coming soon as well. No, I wasn't dying, but given the fact that I was to be trapped in a life I didn't want, I thought I might as well be dead.

I walked along the rocky shoreline, listening to the thundering crash of the waves. Looking out across the sea, I marveled at the deep red color of our ocean. It seemed to glow beneath our twin moons, almost pulsing with an inner light, providing a breathtaking view.

Every time I walked along the shore or strolled through the forests that surrounded the palace, I was reminded of just how beautiful my home world of Optorio truly was. Of course, whenever I wandered through the halls of the palace, I was reminded of how much of a prison I existed in and how much I hated it.

Beautiful or not, I wanted to leave Optorio sooner rather than later.

I closed my eyes and turned my face up into the gentle night breeze. The taste of the salt from the sea in the air was heavy and it was pleasant. My people were originally a water-born race. We lived in grand palaces below the sea, in harmony with all of our planet's marine life.

At least, that's what the myths and legends of my people all say. I wasn't sure I believed those legends in their entirety, but I did know that my people were tied to the ocean. We had a physiological need to immerse ourselves in the waters of the sea from time to time. Our bodies craved it. Needed it. I wasn't a doctor or a scientist, so I couldn't explain it. All I knew was that if I went too long without immersing myself in the waters of the sea, it had a profound impact upon me physically.

Those who were doctors and scientists said that if we did not attend to the needs of our bodies and immerse ourselves, we would eventually die.

That was another thing I didn't know to be true. I'd never known anybody who'd actually died from not allowing their bodies access to the sea. But then again, I knew how I felt when I went too long without immersion. Call me selfish, but that wasn't a risk I was willing to run.

As I stood on the shore, listening to the waves and feeling the salt air caress my skin, I felt the pull of the ocean. And the pull was strong. My body cried out for me to strip naked and dive into the waves. It hadn't been all that long since my last immersion – in fact, given that I had my own private immersion pod, I soaked almost every night – but my body craved the sea continually.

As much as I would have loved to indulge and dive below the surface, I couldn't. I did not have the time. My father was expecting me – as always. As the heir to his throne, my father expected many things of me. Too many things, given the fact that I had no desire to assume the throne after his passing. My heart was not in being a leader of my people. My heart and my soul craved adventure and exploration. I wanted to spend my days seeking out new worlds, new people, and new cultures. I wanted to travel the length and breadth of this galaxy and a million others.

Of course, it was something my father had forbidden. He'd said my place was on the throne, not off exploring the galaxy. He'd called it a childish dream, and one that needed to die now that I was a man. Of course, what he didn't say was that if I didn't ascend to the throne, the rule would pass to my brother, Kapoc, and he wasn't about to let that happen.

My brother was a complicated man. When we were children, he was full of kindness, compassion, and empathy. But as we grew and he began to realize that he was not destined for the throne, he'd grown harder. Jaded. Sometimes, even cruel. It was clear that he wanted the throne for himself – something our father would not abide. It was why he was so insistent that I take his place as my brother could not be trusted to rule well or do right by the people of Optorio.

I had my doubts as well, but in all honesty, I didn't think I'd be any better as a leader than Kapoc – my heart just wasn't in it. I know I would have been more compassionate and would strive to do right by the people than Kapoc, but a real leader had to be more than that. And I knew myself well enough to know that I wasn't any of those things.

Casting one last look at the ocean, as always, marveling at the way our twin moons sparkled off of the surface of the water, I turned to follow the shoreline back to the palace. The silhouette of a man standing less than ten feet from me stopped me in my tracks. The light of the moons glinted off of the blade in his hands much in the way it sparkled off the ocean.

“Your brother sends his regards,” said the man.

I sighed again. It was the second assassin he'd sent for me in the last three months. He was obviously growing impatient – as he usually was. It was one of his biggest weaknesses.

“Tell him that he should send them himself,” I said.

The man's face was cloaked in the shadows cast by the hood of his robe, but I could see well enough to notice that he was grinning.

“It won't matter much in a moment,” the man said.

I looked at him evenly. “Are you certain you want to do this?” I asked. “You don't really believe you're the first assassin he's sent for me, do you?” I asked.

“Perhaps not,” he replied, though I heard a slight tremor of uncertainty in his voice. It was faint, but it was there. “But I will be the first to succeed.”

I shook my head, not looking forward to the prospect of killing another one of my people. I'd been well trained by my father's best warriors. It was part of the education I'd been receiving since I was a young boy. All of the elements of being a king had been drilled into my head – statecraft, diplomacy, war tactics. Physically, I was as deadly as any assassin Kapoc sent my way. Deadlier, perhaps.

“As you wish,” I said glumly.

The man moved impossibly fast, rushing forward while bringing the blade in a downward arc meant to slit my throat. Had I not been as well trained as I had been, I would probably be lying in a pool of my own blood on the shoreline. Unfortunately, for my would-be assassin, I was very well trained.

I sidestepped the slash easily and, as the man's momentum carried him forward, I drove my elbow down hard in the opposite direction. I felt his nose buckle beneath my elbow and heard the muffled grunt of pain from the man as his blue-tinted blood exploded from his ruined nose.

Before I could step in to finish him off, the man rolled to the side, out of my reach. He was back on his feet in a moment and lunged forward, a blade suddenly appearing in both hands as he moved in to strike. I dipped my shoulder and rolled to the side, out of the range of his blades. Kapoc had found himself a tough, capable killer this time.

Unfortunately for the man, he wasn't quite capable enough.

“I'll give you one chance to end this,” I said. “Drop your blades and go on your way.”

The man's smirk was arrogant and sent a ripple of irritation through me. “Don't negotiate,” he said. “I do what I'm paid to do.”

“Then you're being paid to die,” I said flatly.

The man shrugged. “I’m willing to take my chances.”

I shook my head. “I didn't want to have to do this.”

The man chuckled as the blue blood splashed across his face, making his smiling appearance a grisly sight to behold.

“Cocky one, aren’t you?” he sneered.

In the blink of an eye, the curved blade of my dagger was in my hands, and I was moving toward the man. A wave of uncertainty, perhaps even fear, flashed across his face as he moved to defend himself. It was too late for him; he just didn't realize it.

As he raised his blades to deflect mine, I followed underneath with the matching blade that had been hidden beneath my coat. His body went into a spasm, and his eyes grew wide as my blade slid into the flesh of his belly. A small gasping noise escaped his throat, and he looked into my eyes with an expression of disbelief upon his face.

“I gave you a chance,” I said.

The man opened his mouth as if to say something, but then closed it again, nothing more than a whispered, gurgling noise escaping his throat. I gave the blade I'd stuck into his belly a vicious twist, drawing a pained grunt from him. A stream of blue blood spilled out of the corner of his mouth as the man's eyes glazed over, fixed on a faraway point as death rushed in over him like a wave upon the shore.

Kneeling down, I silently said a few words of comfort for the man. Death was something I didn't take lightly. Taking a life was something I took even less lightly. Wiping my blade clean in the soft sand of the shoreline, I stood and slipped my weapons back into their sheaths. My anger at Kapoc was palpable. He'd forced my hand – forced me to take this man's life.

And I hated him for it.

Chapter Two: Paige

I leaned against the bar with my phone pressed to my ear, listening to the line ring. It was just after five – we were going to open in about an hour. I'd always loved that small window of time before we opened the doors to the public. As the musicians tuned their instruments and went through their pre-show checks, the atmosphere was infused with electricity and anticipation.

It was certainly a much better buzz than anything I'd had in a courtroom. Being a lawyer had its moments, I won't deny that. But it never filled and completed me the way music had. While I respected the law, my passion was music. It was in my blood, in my soul, and in ways that practicing law never would be.

The connection was finally made, and I heard the sound of my father's voice. “Hi, Paige,” he said.

“Hi dad,” I replied. “How are you doing?”

There was a slight pause. “Can't complain,” he said. “You call to talk to your mom?”

Two seconds in and he was already trying to pawn me off. I suppressed a sigh. Things between my father and I hadn't been the same for the last year, ever since I'd walked away from my career in law to focus on what made me happy. And what made me happy was opening my jazz club, the Mahogany Tavern.

My father was a lawyer who was respected by his peers around the country. He'd tried some incredibly high-profile cases and had become something of a legend in the field. It was natural for him, of course, to want me to follow in his footsteps and carry on the family name and legacy.

I had tried; I really had. I'd gotten into a good school, had gotten hired at a prestigious firm down in San Francisco, and had seemed well on my way to becoming the next big-time lawyer in our family. And that had made my father incredibly happy.

But after a few years of the grind, I was unhappy. I was making a lot of money, sure. But I was unhappy. I hadn't gotten into law for the right reasons. I'd done it for my dad and not for myself, and it had left me feeling empty. Not to sound overly dramatic, but it left me feeling a little dead inside.

I'd decided that I didn't want to live that way anymore. I wanted to actually be happy in my life, which was why I'd walked away from a career in law and had focused on my club. And when I did, my relationship with my father had suffered because of it. He didn't understand because he loved the law in a way I never would.

“No, I actually called to talk to you, dad,” I said.

“Oh?” he sounded surprised. “What about? Going back to law? I can give you a recommendation.”

Of course, he was going to throw that in. Nothing like driving the knife in a little deeper and twisting. It was one of those things that made him a good lawyer, but a terrible father.

“No, actually,” I said. “I'm not going back to practice.”

“Oh,” the disappointment in his voice was plain. “What can I do for you then, Paige?”

The ease with which he switched back into all business mode, that tone of voice that didn't have a trace of warmth to it, was hurtful. It never failed to cut me. But I was never going to let him see that. It was a point of pride with me, I guess.

“Actually, I wanted to invite you and mom to the Tavern,” I said. “My one-year anniversary is coming up, and I've booked some really great artists to play that night. I'm even going to do a special set of my own stuff. I'd really like it if you and mom were there. It would mean a lot to me.”

There was a long pause on the other end of the line, and I knew what he was going to say before he spoke. I wanted to forestall it though, and to maybe give him a little more time to reconsider.

“Your favorite scotch will be on the house,” I said cheerily – hopefully.

“That's really nice, Paige,” he said. “And we'd love to be there. It’s just…I'm consulting on a case, and I don't know if I'll have the time to break away with the trial coming up.”

“Oh,” I said, not bothering to hide my disappointment.

“But I'll see what I can do, okay?” he said. “If we can get away, we will.”

“Okay,” I said, feeling the crushing weight of hurt press down upon me. “Sure thing. I'll talk to you later then, dad.”

“Talk to you soon.”

I ended the call and dropped my phone onto the bar. I held back the tears that threatened to spill out and tried to maintain my composure. The last thing I needed was for my employees to see me in the middle of an ugly cry.

“It's his loss, you know,” she said.

I felt Josie's hand on my shoulder, giving me a gentle, reassuring squeeze. I turned to face her and let her wrap me up in a tight embrace. Josie was the club manager, but she was also my best friend. There were times I didn't think I'd make it through the day without her. She was my rock, my safe place, and the sister I'd never had.

“I should have known,” I said. “I should have known better, and now I'm kicking myself for even putting myself out there like that. Every time I do, I end up in tears.”

Josie gave me a soft smile. “You do it because you're a good daughter,” she said. “And you've got a good heart. It's not your fault your old man is a cold, heartless, son of a bitch.”

“It's what makes him a good lawyer,” I said.

“And a horrible father,” she finished the line she'd heard me say a million times. “But hey, you know that I love you. And I'll be there. Mostly because my paycheck depends on it. But you can count on me.”

Josie grinned and gave me another squeeze. I stood up and wiped the tears from my face. Josie's presence was reassuring and never failed to calm me down. She always knew what to say to help put my mind at ease. Or at least, to take the sting out of certain situations.

I took her hand and gave it a squeeze. “I love you, Jo.”

“And you know I love you,” she replied. “In ways that are completely unhealthy.”

I couldn't help but laugh. Slowly, I was starting to feel better and more like myself. The energy in the room as we neared the time of the first set was ramping up, and it was infectious. I couldn't help but let the music fill me and open my heart again.

I was the music. The music was me. It filled me and completed me in ways that I still didn't understand. It made me happy, and I deserved to be happy.

Chapter Three: Baz

Having finally managed to calm myself down enough to be rational, I walked into my father's chambers. He was propped up on his bed, looking pale and weak. His skin was dry and leathery, and wet sounding coughs rattled his body. I knew just by looking at him that his time was short.

Kapoc was sitting next to our father's bedside, looking every bit like the concerned son. He played his part very well, I had to give him credit. His eyes widened as I stepped through the doorway, but he regained his composure in an instant. Kapoc was many things – easily rattled was not one of them.

“Your friend sends his regards,” I said to my brother.

A rueful grin touched his lips, but he said nothing. Instead, it was my father who filled the silence between us.

“Kapoc, please leave,” he said, his voice raspy and weak. “I have matters to discuss with your brother.”

Anger washed over Kapoc's face, but he managed to get it under control quickly once more. He cleared his throat and glared at me before turning a solicitous face to our father.

“Of course, father,” he said.

When he'd gone, I took his seat next to my father's bed. He looked at me, a grim smile touching his features. When he spoke, it was with a voice that was surprisingly clear and powerful. And when I looked into his eyes, I still saw the mind of a sharp man, one who was in control of all of the faculties behind them.

“I can tell that something is bothering you, son,” he said. “And I can tell by the tension between you and your brother that he did something to you.”

I shrugged and did my best to play it off. “It's nothing,” I said brightly. “Nothing I couldn't handle.”

My father scrutinized my face, looking deeply into my eyes, and assessed me. He had always been able to see through me and read me. He seemed to know what I was thinking just by looking at me. It was an ability that was as frustrating as it was impressive. I had no doubts that he knew my brother had tried to have me assassinated.

“How many did he send for you?” my father asked.

I gave him a lopsided grin. “Just one,” I said. “But he was very good.”

“Obviously not good enough.” His laughter broke off into a coughing fit.

I grabbed the towel sitting on the table next to his bed and wiped the bloody spittle from his lips. Setting the towel down and picking up a glass of amber liquid, I helped him take a drink.

“You know the doctors believe you should be drinking water,” I said. “And water alone.”

He shrugged. “I'm dying. Water isn't going to save me,” he replied. “Why should I not enjoy a last few glasses of the very best liquor Optorio has to offer?”

I grinned. That was my father – pragmatic and stubborn to the core. “Fair enough,” I said.

We sat in silence for several long moments, each of us looking at the other, lost in our own thoughts. Eventually, he broke the silence.

“You do know that your brother will not stop sending assassins for you. Not until you are dead, and he sits upon the throne.”

I nodded. “I know.”

“So, what will you do about it then, my son?”

I shrugged. “I do not know yet, father.”

He nodded and gave me a small smile. “But now you see why he cannot sit on the throne of our people? A man so desperate for power that he is willing to kill his own flesh and blood to attain it cannot be trusted. Ever.”

I nodded. “Yes, father,” I said. “I know. I know you wish for me to sit upon the throne.”

He gave me a small smile and nodded. “Precisely because you do not want the power,” he said, his voice beginning to fade.

He was right, I didn't want the power. I wanted to be in a ship, rocketing through space, exploring strange new worlds and new places. Immersing myself in foreign cultures that were extraterritorial in origin. My heart was in exploration. That's what would bring me the most joy to my life.

But my father would not hear any of it. First born sons were required to follow in the footsteps of their fathers. It was the way of our people and had been for since the beginning of our civilization. It was my duty to both my family and my people to ascend to the throne when he passed. The trouble was, I didn't want to do my duty. I had no interest in ruling. I just wished I could make him understand that. I'd tried a thousand times before – and it looked like I'd have to try a thousand more.

“Father,” I said. “I think it would serve Optorio and its people better if you appointed a regent council to rule until somebody fit for the throne emerged. I am not fit to rule. You know my heart is not in it.”

A shadow of anger crossed his face. It was a discussion we'd had many times and one he had grown weary of.

“It is your duty, my son,” he said. “Your brother cannot sit on the throne.”

“Let me ask you this, father,” I said, trying a new angle to my argument. “How can I be anything but an ineffectual leader if my heart is not in it? How can I ever truly do right by the people? How will I help this world and our people thrive – as they deserve – if I don't want to sit the throne? At least Kapoc's heart is with this world.”

“Kapoc's heart is with Kapoc,” my father said. “He lusts for the throne for his own power and glory. He will bring death and destruction to this world and our people if he is allowed to lead. You know this.”

“Which is why a regent council would be the best for the people, father,” I said. “Kapoc will bring death and destruction, but I fear I may bring that about as well through neglect and disinterest.”

His chuckle was small, but sounded dry and brittle. “That is not your heart, my son,” he said. “You know this, and I do as well. When you sit the throne, you will give yourself over to it entirely.”

I feared that he was right. If I ascended to the throne, I feared that I would, indeed, become so fully invested in the role that I would find myself subjugating my own needs, wants, and desires for everybody else. I would wind up neglecting myself instead of the people, and I would very likely live a very lonely, unhappy life.

“You know what must happen,” my father said.

I cocked my head and looked at him, unsure of what he meant. The expression that crossed my father's face was inscrutable.

“Your brother will never stop,” he said. “Not until you are dead. You know this to be true.”

I nodded slowly. I did know that to be true. The question was, what to do about it. Clearly, my father had ideas – and the deep, shadowy part of my mind had an idea as well, though I hoped it was wrong.

He opened his eyes and spoke with authority. “You must do whatever is required for you to secure your throne, Bazarok. Whatever is required.”

The firmness and intensity with which he looked at me left little doubt about his meaning.

“I cannot do that, father,” I said. “I cannot…not my own brother.”

“If you do not, you will pay a heavy price,” he replied. “The ultimate price.”

“Perhaps. But at least I can go to our ancestors with a clear conscience,” I said. “A conscience not stained by fratricide.”

My father sighed heavily. “Bazarok, you will follow me to the throne when I go to meet our ancestors,” he said. “And you will do whatever is required of you to secure your place. Your brother cannot rule.”

I looked at my father and wanted to tell him that if he wanted Kapoc dead so badly, he could have his own men do it. I would not be a party to it. Part of the education my father had thrust upon me were the religious and philosophical teachings of civilizations from our own galaxy and galaxies beyond. It was meant to instill a respect for life into me, the compassion a ruler needed.

But in what was perhaps an unintended consequence, it had instilled a deep and abiding respect for life within me. So much so that the very thought of taking a life was abhorrent to me. I knew that the life I'd taken earlier in the evening would stay with me forever, but that had been a clear case of self-defense. Unless Kapoc came at me with a blade directly, I could not kill him – not even to secure my throne.

And knowing Kapoc as I did, he would not come at me directly. He was much too cautious – and perhaps even cowardly – for that. He would operate through surrogates and assassins. And because he would never challenge me directly, I could not simply kill him. It went against everything I stood for.

“Which is why a regent council–”

“You will rule,” my father's voice boomed and echoed around the chamber. “You, Bazarok. Not a regent council. I will speak of this foolishness no further. You may leave me now.”

He leaned back on his pillows and closed his eyes. The message was clear – I was dismissed. I knew that my arguments against taking the throne disappointed my father. He wanted me to lead Optorio. He wanted me to further his legacy while carving out my own. But that's not what I wanted. Not what I'd ever wanted. And he could not – would not – understand that I wanted to follow my heart and not his commands.

It wouldn't be long before he was gone to meet our ancestors, though. Then, I would have to decide what I was going to do – assume the throne and lead Optorio, or leave our world's future uncertain and chaotic under Kapoc's rule.

I stood and left my father's chamber, my mind and emotions swirling faster than a maelstrom upon the ocean's surface.

Chapter Four

My father didn't speak to me very often over the next couple of days. Of course, he didn't speak to anyone, really. His condition was worsening, and I knew he had very little time left. But then, my father had always been a stubborn and contrary man, so perhaps he would surprise us all by living on for years. It seemed impossible to most, but I was never one to doubt my father.

Kapoc continued to hover over him, posing as the concerned and solicitous son. But to me, he looked more like a carrion bird hovering over a still warm carcass. But in our culture, much was about appearances, and Kapoc was putting on a good show. At least for most.

When we were alone with our father, the air in the room was tense and was filled with the silent promise of violence. When he looked at me, it was with a palpable hatred. His glares were intense, and I could see the thoughts swirling around in his mind. He wanted me dead, and he was simply trying to figure out the best way to go about making that happen.

Unfortunately for Kapoc, as the second son, he was not afforded the education and training I received. Sure, his was better than most of our people's. But he wasn't being educated and trained to sit the throne. It was a slight he carried with him his entire life, and one he would use to justify killing me and taking the throne for himself.

I knew that Kapoc had allied himself with some particularly unsettling and violent elements within our typically peaceful society. He was accruing power underground, collecting forces that he would lead, presumably, in revolution to overthrow me and take control of Optorio for himself.

When the chime on the door to my chambers rang, I had a feeling I knew who was behind it and what they were going to say. With a sigh, I pressed a button on the console of my desk to let him in.

“Baz,” he said. “I bring news. Terrible news.”

I turned in my seat to face Tarkonil, my oldest and most trusted friend and confidante. He had a stricken expression upon his face. It was part sadness and part extreme fear.

“Your father–”

I nodded and held up my hand. “Has gone to our ancestors. I anticipated this news, my friend.”

Tarkonil lowered his head and nodded. “Yes, my lord. He has.”

A bolt of sadness lanced through my heart. There was much about my father that I did not like or appreciate, but there was much I did. After all, he was my father. However, I knew that I would not have much time to grieve, at least not now. Things were undoubtedly already in motion, and I had to move quickly.

“Where is my brother?” I asked. “And stop calling me that. I'm not your king.”

Tarkonil looked up. “But you are,” he said. “With your father gone, rule passes to you.”

I sighed. This was not a point I wanted to argue right then and there. “Where is my brother?”

“He is in his chambers with his advisors.”

“Of course he is.”

“Baz,” Tarkonil said, his tone more familiar – which I preferred, “you know that Kapoc is going to come for you.”

I nodded. “I know.”

“Your coronation is set for three days from now,” Tarkonil said. “I do not believe he will wait until then.”

“Nor do I.”

“So, what will you do?”

I leaned back in my seat. It was a question I'd had to ponder a lot more in recent days, for obvious reasons. Should I honor my father's wishes and take the throne? Or was it better to honor my heart by establishing a regent council, climbing into my ship, and leaving Optorio?

I looked up at Tarkonil. “What would you do?”

His grin was rueful. “I am glad I am not in a position to have to make that decision.”

“But what would you do?”

He sighed. “If I had to choose between sitting the throne and possibly being killed for it,” he started, “or leaving and enjoying the life I've been given, the choice seems rather simple to me.”

I nodded, unsurprised. Tarkonil believed much as I did, that a life devoid of happiness was not a life worth living. He knew my mind better than anyone and knew that I had no desire to sit the throne. The fact that he did not think less of me for it gave me a profound sense of relief.

I opened my mouth to speak and then closed it again, having said nothing. I didn't know what to say. I was genuinely torn.

“Your ship is ready, Baz,” he said. “It has been for some time. As is your list for the regent council. You've already made all of the necessary preparations. All you need to do is get on your ship and go.”

“I just don't know if it is the right thing to do,” I said. “If I leave and Kapoc seizes power–”

“The council has the royal guard at their back,” he replied. “He will not be able to seize control. Not without a fight.”

I nodded slowly as the crux of my problem revealed itself. “The last thing I want to do is leave Optorio in turmoil. I do not want violence and bloodshed for our people.”

“There will be violence and bloodshed regardless of whether you leave of not,” Tarkonil said. “Kapoc is already in motion to seize the throne. There will be fighting, and there will be deaths. You can help minimize that by not leaving a power void and legitimizing the council.”

He was right. If I stayed, there would be civil war as Kapoc's faction sought to overthrow mine. If I left without legitimizing a council, there would be civil war as various factions fought to attain power and control. But if I legitimized a council, there would be a unified front to oppose Kapoc and, hopefully, minimize the bloodshed of the war to come.

“Baz,” Tarkonil continued, “Kapoc is going to move on you soon. You need to make a decision.”

It was a tense situation and my emotions should have been a blur. But I strangely found myself in a place of peace and acceptance. I knew what I needed to do, and I was ready.

“Please have my ship readied,” I said. “I will depart within the hour.”

Chapter Five

I should have known it wouldn't be as easy to escape from Optorio – and from Kapoc – as I'd hoped. I should have known that he'd never let me just leave. But there was that piece of me that still loved him because he was my brother, that still believed the best in him, and that there was a good man somewhere inside of him. The thought made me want to believe that he would do the right thing and do right by our people.

But when I picked up the two ships emerging from hyperspace behind me, all hope I had for Kapoc eventually coming around died a sudden death.

“Anjol,” I said, speaking to my ship's artificially intelligent operating system. “Identify the two craft behind us.”

“They are of Trogaran design,” the computer replied. “Heavily armed and armored. Each contains one pilot.”

“Trogaran assassins,” I said. “I guess I should be flattered.”

“Being assassinated hardly seems like something to be flattered about,” the computer replied dryly.

“His chosen assassins are an upgrade over the last one,” I said.

Trogaran's were known for their killing prowess. When you wanted someone dead quickly, you called a Trogaran, which told me that my brother was serious about getting rid of me. Very serious.

“Trogaran ships closing quickly,” the computer said. “They will overtake us in approximately twenty seconds.”

“Anjol, prepare to take evasive measures,” I said. “Head straight into that asteroid field.”

“Acknowledged,” the computer said.

The Trogaran's would follow me into the field, of course. When they were determined, Trogaran's could be the most persistent and stubborn creatures in the entire galaxy. They would follow me anywhere to ensure that the job got done and I was dead. Which meant that I needed any advantage I could get. The asteroid field wasn't much, but it was all I had.

“Trogaran ships have entered the asteroid field behind us.”

Their ships were small, maneuverable, and fast, much like the Trogaran's themselves. I wasn't hoping to lose them in the field; I was merely trying to slow them down.

“Anjol,” I said. “Fire bomb packs into the asteroids. Trigger them when the Trogaran vessels are within range.”

“Acknowledged.”

I didn't think my bomb packs would destroy them outright, but I was hoping to damage their crafts. At the very least, I wanted to slow them down just enough so that I could get away. There were two jolts to my ship as the bomb packs were fired off to anchor in the asteroids we'd just passed.

It didn't take long for the first explosion to go off. I saw the bright flash of light – brighter than I'd expected.

“First Torgaran ship destroyed,” Anjol informed me. “The second is still inbound.”

Though I was upset with the fact that I'd had to take another life, I could not deny the rush of excitement I felt in the heat of a fight. It was something primal within me, and something I was not necessarily proud of. I wanted to think that I was a little more enlightened than someone like Kapoc, but stripped down to my core – put in a situation where it was me or them – I had to reluctantly admit that there was an animalistic side that relished the chance to make sure it was not me.

I saw the flash of the other ship's cannons as its blasters fired at me. I moved evasively, trying to get out of the line of fire while also trying to avoid crashing into an asteroid at the same time – not the easiest of tasks.

“Anjol, how long until I am clear of this asteroid field?”

“At present velocity, you will clear the asteroid field in five seconds.”

Five seconds. A lifetime. The flash of cannon fire lit up the sky to the side of me. One of the errant shots hit a small asteroid, sending shards of jagged rock bouncing off the canopy of my ship. I had to get out of that field and into clear space if I was going to survive this encounter.

I increased my speed and before I knew it, I was in the clear. The Trogaran ship would be clearing the field in a heartbeat, so I knew I needed to do something drastic.

“Anjol, execute a one hundred and eighty-degree spin,” I called out. “Now!”

The ship reacted immediately, rotating quickly and getting into position just as the assassin's ship cleared the asteroid field. A small grin tugged at the corner of my mouth when I opened fire. I watched as my cannon blasts raked the hull of the Trogaran's ship, punching fiery holes into it. He was done for. A moment later, the ship exploded in a bright bloom of fire and shrapnel.

But my survival celebration was cut short a moment later when I saw the missile emerge from the fiery cloud of debris.

“Missile inbound,” Anjol said.

“You don't say,” I snapped.

The ship lurched as I hit the button to fire the engines. I gritted my teeth and pulled back on the maneuvering stick, trying to get myself out of range of the missile.

“Impact is inevitable,” Anjol said.

“Not if I can help it,” I said through gritted teeth.

The ship accelerated upward, but as I watched the streak of fire heading toward me, I knew I wasn't going to make it. There simply wasn't enough time or distance between us. Impact was indeed inevitable.

Yanking the maneuvering stick, I tried to minimize the coming impact. And it worked – to a degree. My body was thrown to the side, and I had the wind knocked out of me as the missile slammed into the my ship, blowing a hole in my rear thruster. I could see the glow of the fiery explosion in the reflection off the ship's canopy.

“Anjol, clear that fire,” I snapped. “Now.”

“Fire suppression activities engaged,” the computer's voice said. A moment later, it followed up by saying. “Fire suppression activities successful.”

I let out a sigh of relief. At least I wasn't going to explode into a fiery ball on the outer edge of an asteroid belt.

“Status report, Anjol.”

“Thruster one offline,” the computer said. “Thruster two damaged but operable. Efficiency is less than forty percent, however.”

“Do long range sensors detect anything else coming out of hyperspace?”

“I detect nothing,” Anjol said. “Your path appears clear for now.”

“Find me a habitable planet, Anjol,” I said. “I must land and repair the ship.”

“Scanning.”

I leaned back in the seat and rubbed my eyes. Looking around at the stars, I drank it all in. The universe around me was a wonder to behold. With so much going on, I hadn't had time to properly soak it in and appreciate the beauty around me.

There were thousands – millions – of stars all around me. I was approaching a very large, strange looking planet with a giant red spot that almost looked like an eye. It was so strange and so wonderful. I'd never seen anything like it. I'd flown fighters before. It had been part of my education. But that had been training, and I'd never had the opportunity to really appreciate the galaxy around me. My father had always made sure my trainers kept me on task and learning. That, and to keep an eye on me in case I'd had the idea to fly off.

I felt like a child as I stared in wonder of the world around us for the first time. Staring at the galaxy all around me, I recalled having my father take me below the surface of the ocean for the first time. It had been so strange, so exotic, and so beautiful, just as the darkness of the space around me currently was.

“Habitable planet has been located,” Anjol's voice interrupted my reverie. “Charting course. Would you like to manually pilot?”

“No,” I said. “You pilot us there. I don't want to miss anything.”

“Piloting engaged.”

I leaned back in my seat and looked at the monitor to see where Anjol was taking me. It was a planet filled with blues and greens. It looked lush and beautiful. I had no idea what planet it was, but I was anxious to find out.

Until we arrived though, I was a passenger and wanted to do nothing but sit back and admire the beautiful view that surrounded me. This is what I'd wanted – a trip into the unknown with alien vistas ahead of me.

Of course, I could have been happier had I not had to battle assassins in order to enjoy the view.

Chapter Six: Paige

The last of the customers had filtered out, and I locked the door behind them. The Mahogany Tavern was closed for the night. Good thing, too, for I was beat. It had been a wild but enjoyable night. One of my favorite musicians, Milo Golding, had graced our stage unexpectedly. I'd been set and ready to do a set of my own, but when I saw him walk through the door, I knew there was no way I was not going to put him on stage.

He'd protested at first, insisting that he'd come only as a patron. He'd said he wanted nothing more than a few beers and to enjoy the local music scene. But I'd convinced him to do a couple of songs – and that had turned into a four-hour set. Milo was an older guy, but he still held the audience in the palm of his hand.

Between songs, he'd regale us with stories about his life – one of the most fascinating lives I'd ever heard of, to be honest. He was a brilliant musician and an even better person. I'd had the pleasure of seeing him in concert a number of times and he never, ever failed to satisfy.

“Did Milo take the money?” I asked when Josie came out of the office.

“Of course he didn't,” she said with a grin. “Stubborn old coot.”

I laughed. “It's probably a good thing,” I said. “We normally wouldn't be able to afford an artist of his caliber. The guy is a legend.”

“And he's still pretty spry for a seventy-year old man,” Josie said. “I had to tell him three times that I was a married woman and to keep his hands off my ass.”

“What, you couldn't take one for the team?” I grinned. “Knowing he walked out happy would have made me feel better about not paying him.”

Josie smirked. “Please. If I'd given him a roll in the hay, he wouldn't have walked out of here,” she said. “You would have needed to call an ambulance.”

I laughed and poured myself a beer. “Somebody's feeling pretty good about herself tonight.”

“Honey, I feel this good about myself every night.”

I raised my glass and nodded. Josie was a confident woman. She was my best friend and my manager at the Tavern. She was also one of the most confident women I'd ever met. Of course, the fact that she was a knockout might have had something to do with that. She never really had to feel all that insecure about her looks. Not like the rest of us.

“Heading up for a smoke,” she said. “Join me?”

I nodded and carried my beer over to the staircase next to our office door. I unhooked the chain and let it fall, giving us access to the stairway up to the roof of the building. I unlocked the door at the top of the stairs and stepped out into the cool night air, relishing the feel of the breeze upon my skin. Josie stepped out and walked over to her normal spot near the edge of the building and lit her cigarette.

This was our informal office. It was not only the place where we could discuss business without being overheard, but it was also our unofficial clubhouse as well. We were the only two with keys to the door, which meant that we were the only two who had access to the roof. We'd sometimes come up here for a smoke, a drink, or just to get away. We'd talked, laughed, and cried more times than I could count on that rooftop.

Josie handed me her cigarette and lit herself another. I took a sip of my beer and followed that up with a long drag of the cigarette. I looked up into the night sky as I exhaled a thick, white plume of smoke and watched it drift upward.

“How are you doing, hon?” Josie asked me.

“I'm good,” I said.

She looked at me closely, obviously trying to discern whether or not I was being honest. Josie was always concerned about my mental and emotional well-being. And even more disturbingly, she was also overly concerned with my sexual well-being. She was almost like some perverted house mother.

“You sure, hon?”

I smiled and nodded. “Yes, mother,” I said. “I'm doing just fine.”

She took a drag of her cigarette and blew out a cloud of smoke. “I've just been worried,” she said. “You know, after the other night and that thing with your dad.”

I shrugged. “It is what it is,” I said. “I just have to find some way to be okay with the fact that they're never going to give me their approval for the Tavern. They'll never understand it or really support it. They're just a different breed of people, I suppose. So, it's up to me to find a way to be okay with that.”

“Makes you wonder how you came out of that particular gene pool, doesn't it?” she said and laughed.

“Sometimes,” I laughed with her. “I'm not gonna lie.”

There was a moment of silence between us as I drank from my glass of beer and then took another drag of my cigarette, lost in thought. Josie looked out at the bay our town got its name from – Sapphire Bay. Even at night, it was beautiful. I never tired of watching the way the moonlight glittered brightly off the surface of the water, making it look like it had been crusted with diamonds or silver. It was as breathtaking today as it had been when I was a young girl back in the day.

Most people dream of getting out of small town life and heading for the big city. And although Sapphire Bay might not exactly qualify as ‘small town life,’ given that we had several hundred thousand residents, it was certainly smaller than a place like San Francisco or L.A. But I'd always loved it here. And besides, I'd had my taste of big city life and found it incredibly lacking. Sapphire Bay was quaint, it was charming, and it was home.

“So you know,” Josie said, and I could tell by the tone of her voice what was coming next, “there was a guy in the Tavern tonight. Totally infatuated with you. Couldn't take his eyes off you.”

“Pass,” I said. “But thanks.”

“Oh, come on, Paige,” she protested. “He's a firefighter. You know how hot those guys are.”

I grinned but shook my head. “Not interested. But thanks for thinking of me.”

She opened her mouth to speak again, so I raised an eyebrow at her. It was a conversation we'd had a million times before, and I was not going to make it a million and one. She closed her mouth again and pouted.

“Look at that,” I said, pointing to the sky. “A shooting star.”

Chapter Seven: Baz

Anjol guided me to a safe spot to land under the cover of a thick forest. According to Anjol, I was on a planet called Earth. The secondary thruster that had been damaged had finally given out, forcing us to land in a place called Sapphire Bay. If I had to be forced down by a damaged ship, it seemed to be an ideal spot. It was near an ocean which, according to Anjol, had optimal salinity.

The biggest drawback to being forced down was that it was going to take some time to repair the ship, which meant that I was going to have to spend some time in this city and among its people. I knew nothing about them. ‘Humans,’ is what Anjol had called them. He'd said they were somewhat similar to my people, though obviously far less advanced as a civilization.

I sighed. This wasn't the ideal place for me to stop, although I had a feeling that none of Kapoc's assassins would think to look for me here. At least, I hoped they wouldn't. I just needed a little time.

“Anjol,” I said. “I need everything you can give me on these – humans,” I said. “I must learn to adapt and blend in while I'm grounded here.”

“Processing,” the computer said. “Please link your neuro-bracelet to your biosuit for maximum information retrieval efficiency.”

I put my bracelet around my wrist and secured it. The neuro-bracelet was a wonder even by the standards of my people. It not only linked to our mind and bodies organically, it could also interface with computer systems. Anjol could communicate with me almost telepathically through the bracelet, and I could also use it to manipulate electronics.

I punched the button that opened the ship's canopy and climbed out. Breathing in the night air, I cocked my head, the aroma an oddity to me. I'd never smelled anything remotely like it, but it wasn't unpleasant. It was musky and earthy, and there was a tint of salt from the ocean in the air around me as well. It was an aroma I liked – a lot.

“You are smelling the scent of pine trees,” Anjol informed me.

“Pine trees,” I muttered to myself. “I like it.”

“You're on the west coast of the continent of North America, in the state of California,” Anjol informed me.

North America? California?

Anjol jumped right in with a geography lesson, explaining how continents and countries and even states worked on this place called Earth. It was probably way too much information, but too much was probably better than not enough. Closing my eyes, I saw the map, and Anjol pinpointed exactly where we were at, right off the Pacific Ocean.

“Earth is populated with a number of species, including countless animals, but humans are the dominant lifeform,” Anjol spoke, showing me photos of humans – male, female, children – in my mind's eye.

Humans resembled my own species for the most part. That was something of a relief.

“Tell me, Anjol, how do I fit in with these humans? What do I need to wear?”

“Your physical form is on par with what humans expect, one reason this planet was satisfactory. However, your biosuit is unlike anything they've ever seen before, so a disguise will be necessary. Try this on for size.”

I rolled my eyes. Anjol and his puns. I opened my eyes and looked down as my biosuit transformed into brightly colored pants that were cut off above my knee. My chest was bare and glowed white in the moonlight.

“This is how humans dress?” I asked him, to be sure. “This?”

“Apparently, beings from California dress that way, yes,” Anjol said. “Members of what is called the surfing culture wear what are called board shorts in their season known as summer–”

“How about when they're not – surfing? Or when it's not this season called summer?” I asked. “Because I'm not a member of this culture, I shouldn't be dressed in the required uniform.”

“You may have a point,” Anjol said.

“How about something with some dignity,” I said. “Maybe more fitting of my station?”

Anjol changed my outfit again. This time, it was a completely black material that covered most of my body. A bright blue piece of fabric was tied around my neck. I was appalled by my appearance.

“These humans wear nooses around their neck?”

Anjol responded. “This is what's known as a bow tie. And yes, humans wear these bow ties on formal occasions. Male humans, at least. Females only sometimes.”

Satisfied with that answer, I nodded approvingly. As I looked at myself a little longer, I had to admit that I did look nice. It was a strange outfit, to be sure. But it wasn't bad looking at all. At least dressed this way I'd fit in with the upper classes. Perhaps, I would be able to walk among them unnoticed after all.

“Thank you, Anjol,” I said, slicking my hair back and looking around. “Where do I go from here?”

“Loading coordinates to your biosuit now. Follow the directions and you will find lodgings for the night. You will need to remove their local currency from what is called an ATM. With that, you can secure a room at a lodging house on 46th Street and Woodruff Ave, as noted on the map.”

“I see that. But what is this ATM you speak of?”

“It dispenses human currency, which they call money. You will need money for everything on this planet. It's the currency of the people.”

“Understood.” I thought I had all the information I required. “Cloak the ship and stay out of sight. Also, send word to Tarkonil. Tell him what happened, and have him bring what is needed to repair the ship.”

“It shall be done.”

As I left the comforts of my ship and followed the coordinates Anjol had given me, I became aware of how different this world was from my own. The trees were enormous and made everything look so – primitive. The walk from where I'd landed my ship to the edge of the forest wasn't a long one. I used the time to review the information Anjol had uploaded to my biosuit. I wanted to be prepared and learn as much as possible.

It wasn't all that long before I entered the human city. With wide eyes, I stared at the humans walking to and from various establishments. It was something that was probably all too common for them, but something that felt extraordinary to me, mostly because nothing looked like my home. I was, quite obviously, a stranger in a strange land. I had to hope that I was not detected – not if I wanted to study these humans, which I did.

As I walked along the streets, taking care to walk on the raised stone platforms like the rest of the humans, I inhaled deeply. The smells were intoxicating – even the ones that weren't as pleasant. They were intoxicating because they were so different. This was why my heart had always been in exploration rather than sitting on a throne. I can't recall ever feeling more alive than I felt walking among the humans.

“What is that smell, Anjol?” I asked out loud.

“I should mention that humans are a primitive species and do not have this technology, Baz,” Anjol said primly. “It is advisable to avoid looking like, in human parlance, a lunatic by talking to yourself. I would advise you to keep these conversations limited to our biolink.”

Of course. Anjol's voice was in my head, where only I could hear him. The woman standing next to me obviously could not and the expression on her face told me that she probably did consider me a lunatic. Whatever that was.

The smell in question though, was a powerfully musky smell. One that smelled nothing like the pine trees earlier, but of chemicals not found in nature. And it reeked

“It's perfume,” Anjol said. “It is something that women, and some men, wear to smell better. They apparently believe it attracts the other sex.”

I caught myself mumbling to myself, “Smells awful to me.”

The woman turned toward me, looking me up and down before raising an eyebrow. “Excuse me? Did you say something?”

“No,” I said, speaking my first words to one of these strange creatures and feeling my heart pound inside of me as I did. “Well, I mean, yes, but I didn't say anything to you.”

“Then who?” she said, looking around.

There was no one else there, just her and me, and I saw the concern in her eye.

“To myself,” I said quickly. “I was talking to myself.”

We were standing on a corner at an intersection. Vehicles – Anjol told me they were cars – drove past, and the smelly woman and I were waiting for something. I wasn't sure what, but Anjol told me to follow her lead. I stared at the back of her head, admiring the color of her hair. Such a dull brown, a color of trees or dirt from what I could tell.

The lighted pole in front of us changed from red to green, and the woman started walking. I followed, noticing the vehicles had stopped and seemed to be waiting for us to cross. I kept my head down as I rushed across the street, not exactly sure what would happen when the lights changed back again. I had an idea, and it wouldn't be pretty.

“There is an establishment called a bank ahead of you, on your left,” Anjol directed. “The ATM is directly out front. You can access the machine via your wristlet.”

There was a man standing at the machine and one standing behind a line that had been painted several feet behind the machine. So I waited, because I figured that was what I was supposed to do. I turned and looked around at the scenery – the trees, the lights, the buildings. It all felt so strange. So exotic. And so – quaint? But lovely, just the same. It might not be the gorgeous palaces I was used to, but there was something about this small city that felt nice. The cool, salty air was more than pleasant as well. The sea was nearby, calling to me even as I waited in line for this ATM.

The first man stepped away and the second man stepped forward to take his place. I had obviously assessed the need to wait my turn correctly, which pleased me. I was learning the cultural norms of the place quickly.

As I waited, one of the human vehicles came down the street, the sound of what I was guessing they called music blaring through its open windows. I found this human music very, very disagreeable. The second man stepped away from the ATM and I stepped forward as it was finally my turn.

Glancing around me to ensure that I would not be observed, I held my wristlet over the computer screen and tapped a few commands. The ATM made a series of loud beeping noises and I stood there as one final beep sounded, which was followed by a whirring sound. I looked down just as a small door opened and the next thing I knew, a stack of paper came out of the machine.

“That is what the humans call money,” Anjol said. “Take that currency, and you will be able to eat and have a place to sleep.”

Grabbing the stack of bills, I pocketed the currency and continued on my way.

The hotel where I'd be staying at wasn't much farther away. It was, according to Anjol, on the edge of Sapphire Bay, out of the way from the hustle and bustle of the city.

“But what if I like hustle and bustle?” I asked, not knowing if I actually liked hustle and bustle.

Anjol was adapting to human culture, customs, and norms far faster than I was. As a biologically-based computer entity, he was able to process incredible volumes of information in the blink of an eye. As a biologically-based entity with no computer enhancements, I did not have that luxury.

“It is, as they say, better to be safe than sorry, Baz,” Anjol said. “Especially if you're trying to avoid drawing attention to yourself. Forgive me for saying so, but you do tend to stand out.”

“If I am to study these beings, I need to be out among them,” I said. “And why do you say I stand out? I'm wearing a bow tie, aren't I?”

“Mostly because once again, you're talking out loud and people are staring.”

I looked around, feeling somewhat self-conscious. He was right. A group of people were sitting on a bench outside the hotel, all three of them watching me.

“Maybe you have a point,” I thought in my head. “But I'll learn their ways, Anjol. Trust me, I will.”

I pushed on the door, only to find it was locked. But Anjol said this was a hotel – a public lodgings house. Why would the door be locked?

“You have to pull,” a lady behind me spoke up.

“Excuse me?” I asked.

“Pull on the door. Don't push, sweetie.”

Her voice was soft, sweet, and friendly. If she thought I was a lunatic, she didn't make it obvious. That was a start in the right direction as far as I was concerned.

“Thank you,” I said, smiling as I pulled and found the door opened with ease.

“No problem. I do it all the time myself, too.”

I gave her a smile and stepped inside of the public lodge – the hotel – and secured my room for the night.

Chapter Eight

I paced the room of the hotel I had checked myself into – with plenty of help from Anjol, of course. He'd had to walk me through the procedures and teach me how to use their currency to avoid causing any sort of scene or raise any suspicions.

My quarters were on a high floor, which was apparently desirable, according to the man who had assigned me to the room. I looked out the window and was fascinated by the view. Earth – unlike Optorio – had but one moon and it was a large, silver disc in the sky. I marveled at the way it reflected off of the ocean below, sparkling like gemstones. Their ocean was not red in color like ours was.

“It's quite different than Optorio, isn't it?” Anjol said. “And beautiful in its own way.”

I nodded. “It is beautiful in its way,” I said. “But stark. Cold. Optorio's moons and the color of the sea are warm. Inviting. It's not that way here. But even the cold starkness of it has an appeal.”

I spoke out loud because there was nobody around to hear me who might think me a lunatic, but mostly because the sound of a voice, even if it was my own, was strangely comforting. I did not count Anjol since he was a machine – a biologically based machine, but a machine nonetheless.

I'd never been one who enjoyed solitude. Of course, I'd had to endure plenty of it during my education and training, but it was never something I liked. I'd simply endured it. I was more of a social creature than my father would have cared for. He'd told me countless times that a life of rule was a life of loneliness, which was another reason I knew I was not cut out to sit the throne.

I wanted – no, I needed – to be among other people. I need to speak and interact. It was partly why I was so drawn to exploring as it provided the chance to interact with others, to study them, and to immerse myself in their culture.

That thought led me to my next problem. The only way to describe it was boredom. I turned from the window and paced the room, wanting to be anywhere but there. I wanted to be out exploring this alien land and interacting with the inhabitants. The fact that biologically we appeared so similar was an advantage in studying them – I could get up close and personal. I was wasting it by locking myself away in this lodging.

“You are pacing like a caged lion,” Anjol said.

“A caged what?”

“It's Earth parlance,” he replied. “They have so many quirky and wonderful sayings. Really, I would suggest you–”

“What is this caged lion you spoke of, Anjol?”

“Oh, a lion is a ferocious creature. Feline in nature–”

“Feline?”

“Did you not review any of the material I uploaded to your biosuit, Baz?”

I rolled my eyes. “I have not gotten to that point yet.”

Anjol sighed. “A feline is a cat. Much like our angolurs on Optorio,” he said, sounding put out. “To say that somebody is pacing like a caged lion denotes impatience and frustration.”

“Then, I suppose that saying is accurate,” I said.

I turned and faced the window again. Far out on the water, I could see a large vessel of some sort, slowly plodding its way through the open sea. I envied it, wishing I could be out of this room and plodding my own way through whatever sea I chose.

So what was stopping me?

“I would advise against it,” Anjol said, reading my thoughts. “The safest course for you is to remain here and wait for Tarkonil.”

“The way Tarkonil flies, that could be weeks,” I growled.

“Then you should wait weeks, if that is what it takes,” he said. “You cannot afford to be discovered. I've done some research, and humankind does not have a great track record when it comes to dealing with those who are different. And many of them have the strangest fascination with aliens. In the literature I've read, there is a prevailing belief that aliens abduct humans for the sole purpose of inserting strange objects into their–”

“Enough,” I snapped. “I cannot sit in this room a moment longer. I am here to study new life and that is what I intend to do.”

“Technically speaking, you are here because your ship was damaged and unable to fly.”

I growled and turned, heading for the door. I heard Anjol sigh again.

“If you intend to do this, Baz,” he said primly. “Do not forget the key to your dwelling. And do not forget to alter your manner of dress. You do not want to stand out any more than you already do.”

I looked down at myself and realized that I was only wearing my biosuit. Which would, admittedly, look rather odd among the humans. I touched my wristlet and commanded the changes be made. As I watched, the attire Anjol had equipped me with before – dark with the blue bow tie – appeared. Satisfied, I grabbed the key, slipped it into the pocket of the pants, and headed out.

I walked the streets of this strange, yet beautiful place for quite a while. I had been so caught up in all of the sights, sounds, and smells of it all that I lost track of time. Walking out of a small food establishment with what humans called a cupcake in my hand and sitting down on a bench outside of the establishment, I marveled at the exotic delicacy in my hand. They'd described it to me as a spongy, chocolate cake with a creamy peanut butter frosting.

I had no idea what any of that meant, but the smell of it is what had drawn me into that establishment to begin with. And now that I had this delicacy in my hand, I found the smell of it even headier. I breathed it in, savoring the rich textures and aroma.

“I believe that is meant for eating,” Anjol said.

“Yes, thank you,” I snapped. “I know that. I wanted to take a minute to savor the scent of this amazing human delicacy.”

A young couple passed by me, giving me a strange, inscrutable look. It was then that I realized I'd spoken out loud again and how odd that must have appeared. Clearing my throat, I nodded to them – which made them hurry by me even faster.

“You may not be cut out for this observation and learning of alien cultures,” Anjol said, sounding amused.

I quickly reviewed the lexicon of human insults, finally settling on one that was odd and yet strangely satisfying to say.

“Bite me,” I said.

“That's what your cupcake is saying to you, Baz,” Anjol replied quickly. “Anything to get you to stop smelling it.”

I sighed as I was again reminded that he was a machine and better equipped to do things like catalog insults and repeat them back faster than I ever could. Knowing I'd lost the battle, I gave up and decided to enjoy my cupcake. And it was rapturous. I had never tasted anything so exquisite. I devoured the cupcake, my head spinning with just how amazing that little treat had been.

I sat on the bench, looking at the crumpled up wrapper in my hand and debating whether or not I should go in and attain more.

“Keep eating like that and you won't fit into your biosuit anymore.”

I ignored Anjol and had decided to go in and get a few more when something caught my attention. It was a sound – music, perhaps. It was unlike anything I'd ever heard, and it was captivating.

“Anjol,” I said. “Locate the source of that sound.”

“Acknowledged,” he said, and then after a moment, spoke again. “That sound is what is referred to as jazz music. It is emanating from an establishment around the corner known as the Mahogany Tavern.”

“The Mahogany Tavern,” I repeated to myself quietly.

“I must once again advise against this course of action.”

“Noted,” I said. “Now, plot the course to this establishment.”

With a sigh, Anjol mapped out my route. This Mahogany Tavern was close by. I stood and followed the map Anjol had provided, the cupcakes forgotten. As I walked, the music grew louder, and it wasn't long before I found myself standing in front of the doors to the place.

I stood for a long moment, letting the sounds wash over me, amazed at how beautiful and pure the music was. Of course we had music on Optorio, but nothing like this. Nothing so powerful. Emotional. Raw. It was gorgeous music, and I had to hear more.

Chapter Nine: Paige

The Mahogany Tavern was lively. It had been almost a year since we'd opened our doors, and every day brought more and more surprises; each night brought more guests. I stood to the side, listening to Liam Michaels wailing away. He was a local musician who was starting to make a name for himself outside of Sapphire Bay.

No matter how big he got though, he never forgot his roots and always came back to play at the Tavern. And I was happy to have him.

Liam smiled over at me. He was just a boy and his guitar. His soulful voice filled the air, making the lively room around me disappear as I was transported somewhere else, at least for a moment. There was so much pain and so much emotion conveyed in his music. It was powerful, compelling, and I could tell that the entire club was feeling it and was moved by it.

That was why I loved owning a jazz club. Seeing the effect music had on people, watching as people sang their hearts out to an eager audience, having that audience soak it into themselves, appreciate it, and make it their own was immensely powerful. There wasn't a day that went by that I wasn't happy about my choice to leave my law career for what I was doing.

“He's cute,” Josie said to me as she sidled up beside me. “And if I didn't know better, I'd say he has eyes for you.”

Rolling my eyes, I turned to her and pointed to a table nearby. There was a tall, handsome man with jet black hair and a well-tailored suit. “See that man over there?”

Josie raised an eyebrow. “Yeah? Is tall, dark, and handsome more your type?”

“Nah, but he's more Liam's type,” I said with a chuckle. “That's David. Liam's husband.”

Josie's eyes were as large as saucers. “Oh. OH! I had no idea he was gay, I just assumed – the way he looks at you and all.”

“We're just friends,” I said. “I admire his talent. He's thankful to me for letting him play here whenever he wants. Nothing more than that.”

Josie looked a little disappointed, her red lips forming a perfect pout. She'd probably already had the colors picked out for our wedding. No matter what I told Josie or how many times I said it, she insisted it was time for me to start dating again.

Her brunette hair fell around her face in soft tendrils. She had one of those trendy bobs, and it always looked amazing, while my hair was long, wavy, and looked a hot mess tonight. The club was warm. There were a lot of bodies in it, and our air conditioner could only do so much. Josie was still staring at Liam's husband, as if trying to determine whether this was another lie or another excuse for me not to date a suitable bachelor.

“Cross my heart, Jo,” I said with a laugh. “Cross my heart and swear to die.”

“Well that's a shame, I guess. They do make an odd couple...”

“Married, Josie. Happily, I might add.”

Josie shook her head and looked across the room, her eyes bright again. She was on the lookout.

“I'm not interested,” I said.

“How do you know you're not interested until you know what I'm up to?”

“Because I always know what you're up to, and as I've told you countless times, I'm not ready to start dating again.”

“It's been a year, Paige.”

“Not ready,” I said, holding my hand up to stop her from talking and called over my shoulder. “And not having this conversation.”

I walked away, heading toward the bar. I didn't drink while working, so I grabbed a bottle of water instead. Leaning against the counter, I watched as Josie made the rounds, checking in on some of the guests and mingling. She was a natural social butterfly and truly enjoyed chatting people up. She flirted without even realizing it, and the way men looked at her – well, I could see her power from across the room and the effect it had on people, especially the men.

I had never been all that great with men. Sure, I was attractive enough and happy with my appearance – minus a few minor imperfections I'd tweak if I could. But wasn't that true for everyone? Hell, I bet even supermodels or women like Josie would change a few things about themselves if they could.

But overall, I was happy in my own skin. It had taken some time and years of therapy, but I could look in the mirror and like what I saw. Men seemed attracted to me, though I usually pushed them away. Josie, on the other hand, could draw any man to her in a heartbeat, even though she had Mr. Right already.

Josie was loyal to a fault and never intended to lead men on. It just happened naturally. And yet, she seemed shocked by it every single time. Even worse though, she'd use her natural charm to get men to talk to me. Which was something that never worked out too well – not for the men or for me. It was partly because I wasn't interested, but mostly because I wasn't Josie.

Josie strolled over to me at the bar, placing a glass in the sink next to me before turning to me with a smile. “There's someone over there who'd like to meet you.”

Rolling my eyes, I found myself laughing. I'd called it. “Yeah? Why am I not surprised?”

“Because you're hot as hell and men adore you, Paige.”

“Nah, they adore you,” I said. “You just lead them over to me after you reject them and break their hearts.”

“So not true,” she said, her mouth wide. Josie put her hands on her hips and stared at me. “Okay, so maybe I did reject him, but once he saw you, he was smitten.”

“Doesn't matter. I'm not interested.”

“He's a lawyer, so you have something in common.”

“Even less interested now.”

“Come on, Paige,” Josie whined. “He's not one of those stick-up-his-ass type lawyers, I promise. It's something environmental, I think.”

“You picked all this up from the 2 minutes you were speaking to him?” I raised an eyebrow at my friend and smiled playfully.

Josie mumbled to herself, “I'm good at reading people. I told you Shane was a dick, didn't I?”

Hearing my ex's name sent shivers down my spine and made me clench my jaw. “Please, don't bring Shane into this.”

Closing my eyes, I tried to put any thoughts of my ex away. When we met, Shane was everything I wanted in a man. I'd been fooled by his charisma and his kindness. Josie told me he was an asshole after meeting him once, but I didn't see it. He was always so sweet and romantic, at first.

But all of that had been a façade – an illusion – hiding a narcissist underneath it all. And like any good narcissist, he turned against me in short order. Once he'd had me hooked, he'd torn me apart, inside and out.

“I'm sorry, Paige. I didn't mean to–”

I held my hand up to stop her from speaking. “Please, let's just drop it.”

Josie was quiet for a few seconds, but I knew what she was thinking. The wheels in her head were still turning, and she wouldn't rest until I met this man.

But I had to shut her down before it got out of control. “Just because you found your white knight doesn't mean I need to find mine.”

Chapter Ten: Baz

I sat at a table near the rear of the establishment and observed. The man on stage had identified himself as Liam Michaels, and I had been captivated by his music. There was so much power and emotion in his words, and I couldn't help but be moved.

“What can I get you, hon?”

I looked up into the face of a young, blonde, human woman. She was tall and had wonderful proportions. She seemed to possess strength, and yet a delicate femininity as well. In human parlance, she was what they would have called ‘hot.’

“Finally getting around to reviewing my information, are you?” Anjol said. “Of course, it took an attractive woman to get you to do it. Why am I not surprised?”

I cleared my throat. “I'm sorry, get me?”

The woman looked at me like I was an idiot. And perhaps I was.

“Yeah, you know, to drink?” she said. “There's a two drink minimum here, so if you're going to take up a table, you gotta drink, hon.”

“I'm sorry,” I said. “I am not from around here. It's my first time in this establishment.”

The woman gave me a smile that seemed to be filled with warmth and sincerity. “That's okay, sweetie,” she said. “But I do need to ask you to place an order. I really don't want to see you get kicked out of here.”

“No, that would be disagreeable,” I said.

“Order a cosmopolitan. In fact, order two.”

Anjol's voice carried a hint of amusement which tipped me off that he was making me look like the idiot I already felt like. But given that I had no idea what else to do, I did as he suggested.

“Cosmos?” the woman asked, raising an eyebrow.

I nodded. “Yes. Absolutely. I cannot get enough of them.”

“Ummm – okay,” she said. “Be right back with them then.”

I was surprised to find that cosmopolitans were actually quite delicious. Nowhere near as delicious as that cupcake, but very good in their own right. I sat at the table I'd occupied, ordering one after the other, listening to a succession of musicians grace the stage. Some were better than others, but all of them played music that touched me in some way. It was a profound and thrilling experience.

But when a woman with dark hair, fair skin, and had what human men would call ‘generous curves’ took the stage, I was mesmerized. She was the most beautiful creature I'd ever seen in my life. The lights from the stage made her skin seem to glow, and her eyes were the most vivid shade of green – a color that reminded me of my favorite river back home.

“Thank you all for coming to the Tavern tonight,” she said to the crowd who cheered and called her name – Paige. “I just want to say thank you to all of you for making our first year here an amazing experience. The Tavern is strong and continues to grow because of our amazing artists, and because of all of you. You all may not know this, but you're helping me live my dream, and I can't thank you all enough for that.”

The crowd erupted into cheers and the woman on stage – Paige – smiled brightly. My gaze was riveted to her, and I couldn't seem to force myself to look away.

“Now, I know I'm not even in the same league as some of our amazing artists tonight. But I opened this place specifically so I could do what I'm about to do.”

There was laughter among the crowd, and even more cheering. All of the humans I saw looked at her warmly as if they knew and liked her on a personal level. It was an interesting dynamic to see, to say the least.

“So if you'll all indulge me for a few minutes,” Paige continued, “I'd like to do a song or two for you as well.”

The men behind her, each with an instrument of their own, began to play, and the lights in the chamber all dimmed. A single spear of light locked on to her, highlighting her, and I was thankful it did. She was absolutely exquisite.

And when she began to sing, she was so much more. I sat at the edge of my seat, completely entranced by her. Paige was amazing, and the power she conveyed through her music made her that much more so.

As I watched her, I knew that I was going to have to meet her.

Chapter Eleven: Paige

I came off stage to thunderous applause and felt the heat creeping in at the edges of my face. I didn't sing for the applause or the attention. I sang because it filled an emotional need within me. But hearing others respond so favorably to it, how could I not be both excited and humbled by that?

But during my set, I'd almost stumbled through a song after seeing him. He was sitting near the back of the Tavern, his eyes locked on mine and he seemed to hang onto every word I sang. He was, for lack of a better word, amazing.

Even from across the room, he'd caught my attention. His skin iridescent – pale white with a cool tone to it. Though he sat beneath lighting that had been dimmed, he seemed to glow. His skin appeared almost blue, but that wasn't possible. Not at all.

His hair, on the other hand, was a stark contrast to his paleness. Rich and black, almost blue-black. It was sleek, silky, and long. I normally didn't like long hair on men, but on him, it was a nice touch. It made him look regal as opposed to looking like a scruffy, wannabe rebel.

“Wow, look at him,” Josie whispered as she sidled up next to me at the bar.

She stared at the man, too, and her eyes transfixed on him as he walked toward us. There was something about the way he held himself and the way he dressed that told me he wasn't from around here. The Mahogany Tavern was a laid back, casual place. Most people wore nice pants and shirts. The ladies might wear skirts and dresses, but nothing too formal. It was meant to be relaxing, fun, and with just a hint of sophistication added into the mix.

But the stranger's clothing choice made him look as if he were on his way to a wedding, or maybe even a funeral. He was wearing a form-fitting suit that appeared tailored to his body perfectly – all black with only a dark blue bow tie. Yes, a bow tie. It almost made him look like James Bond, if James Bond wore blue bow ties and was pale as a ghost.

Now, he was walking toward us, his eyes locked on mine.

“He's coming over here,” Josie cooed. “Looks like someone has a fan.”

“Shut up,” I mumbled, not intending to be rude. My skin was flushed and I could feel it burning.

“I'm just going to go over here, maybe get a little something to drink,” Josie said with an approving wink.

The man stepped up beside me, and I turned toward the bar, leaning against it. He looked at me for a moment and then mirrored my behavior.

“I'm sorry if I am bothering you,” the man said, speaking slowly and with an accent I couldn't quite place. “I was mesmerized by your voice and just had to introduce myself. My name is Baz.”

He reached out his hand, offering it to me. He actually wanted to shake my hand. Outside of business, who even did that anymore?

“Thank you, Baz,” I said, staring down at his hand and making no move to take it. Eventually, seeing that I wasn't going to take it, he dropped his hand down to his side. “I appreciate that, but really, I'm not in the mood to chat–”

“What's your name?” he asked me bluntly, obviously not taking the hint. “I must know your name. The people in the crowd said it is Paige. Is that your real name?”

Must? “It's Paige,” I said.

“Paige,” he said softly, as if mulling over the word, perfecting it with his foreign tongue. “Paige. What an intriguing name that is.”

“Intriguing?”

Baz's face fell, and he looked like I'd smacked him. Seeing the sudden sadness on his face made me cringe. Maybe English wasn't his first language, and there I was being an asshole.

“This is where you will want to compliment her,” Anjol said inside Baz’s head.

“About time you showed up,” I replied to Anjol. “I could use some help.”

“Access your files on human mating rituals.”

I called them up from my biosuit and quickly reviewed as much as I could. I quickly settled on something that sounded – friendly. Pleasant even.”

“Sorry, I just meant – ummm – well, it's a pretty name for a pretty woman, that's all.”

“Okay, Baz,” I said, pushing myself away from the bar. “Listen, I appreciate your compliments toward my music and all that. I really do. But I'm not up to chatting with strange men tonight. Or really any night, so if you don't mind–”

I started to walk away, but he grabbed my hand. At first, I was pissed. I couldn't believe he was touching me! But as I met his gaze, I could see that he was trying to figure me out. He looked like a puppy who'd been kicked, but couldn't figure out why.

Sure, I was under no obligation to keep talking to him or even feel bad about it. But something in his eyes and the way he looked at me kept me standing there. Instead of smacking him, as I felt like doing for grabbing me, I asked him a question.

“Where are you from, Baz?” I asked. “Because in our country, we don't touch women without their permission.”

Again, there was the look of shock and hurt on his face as he stepped away from me, putting some distance between himself and me.

“I'm so, so sorry, Paige, I had not intended to – I'm not from around here, you see.”

“I can tell,” I said. Baz gave me a look of confusion again, prompting me to be clear. “The accent, being overdressed for such a casual place.”

And your appearance, I might add. But that might come off as offensive. Or at the very least, insensitive. After all, he didn't look Caucasian, but he was too pale to be anything but white. His race was undefined, as was his accent. I was left puzzled, wanting to know more, yet also wanting to get the hell away from this handsome stranger who clearly had eyes for me.

Chapter Twelve

“I'm not sure if I should get you a restraining order,” Josie said. “Or start picking out wedding china for you.”

I grinned. For the sixth straight night, the stranger who called himself Baz was in the audience. Though I knew that I was at least part of the reason for his consecutive night streak, I also believed that he had a fondness for the music being played. No matter who was on stage, his attention remained fixed on them, and he soaked up every last bit of their music, seeming to be absolutely mesmerized by it.

So while some might think it stalkerish or creepy that he was in my club night after night after night, I knew that it was because he genuinely loved the music being put out. I'd actually spoken to him a little bit each night and knew that he was far from creepy. He was just a foreign guy in a new land, trying to figure it all out. Though he could sometimes come off as having a little more machismo than I would have cared for, I couldn't deny that there was a gentle sweetness to him as well.

“You might want to have both in the queue,” I laughed.

She raised an eyebrow and looked at me. “Oh really now?”

I looked over at her and saw that I'd probably put ideas into her head that didn't need to be there.

“No, I was kidding,” I said.

“Are you sure?” Josie asked. “Because you've spent some quality time with him–”

“Ha,” I said, cutting her off as I grabbed a bottle of water from behind the bar and cracked it open. “I've spoken to him a few times here at the club.”

Josie took a drink from her own bottle of water before she spoke again. “In your world, multiple conversations with a guy almost qualifies as a relationship.”

I gave her the finger but couldn't stop myself from laughing. “Screw you.”

Josie shrugged. “Just callin' it like I see it.”

“Yeah? And what is it you're seeing with that magic eye of yours?”

Josie looked from Baz to me, then back to Baz, and back to me again. I intentionally faced away from him to avoid looking at him. The last thing I wanted to do in that moment was encourage her or him. I looked at her and raised an eyebrow.

“I'm thinking that maybe, our favorite little foreigner is melting the heart of the ice queen,” Josie said.

I shook my head and laughed. Josie was persistent; I had to give her that. Mikayla Wilkens finished up on stage. She was young at just twenty-two years old, but she was definitely an up and comer. She had a voice that could make the angels cry, a natural talent on multiple instruments, and she wrote some of the most eloquent and emotionally-pure songs around.

“I'm just saying,” Josie continued, “he seems like a nice guy. Odd and quirky as hell, but nice. And he's the first man I've seen you interact with in a really, really long time that didn't end up with him running out of the club like you'd just threatened to cut his balls off with a spoon.”

“And your point is?”

“That maybe – just maybe – there's something to the idea that he might actually unlock something inside of you. Or at least, that maybe you're intrigued enough by him to keep seeing him.”

“Seeing him?” I laughed. “He comes into my bar. He's a paying customer. What am I supposed to do?”

Josie laughed. “Send him packing like every other guy who steps in here with the idea of talking to you. The fact that you don't – maybe it's something to think about.”

“Or maybe it's not,” I said.

“Well, figure it out quick, hon,” she said. “Your white knight is coming over to see you again.”

Baz smiled wide when he saw me, and it gave him a very sweet, boyish look. There was no disputing the fact that he was a gorgeous man – I saw the heads of my entire wait staff turn and look at him when he walked by. His good looks were otherworldly. I hadn't heard a man ever called ethereal before, but that's what he was.

“Good evening, Paige,” he said as he leaned against the bar.

It was a move that was intended to look smooth and casual, but when he did it, somehow it looked stiff and awkward.

“Good evening, Baz,” I said. “You are persistent; I will give you that.”

He smiled. “I am led to believe that persistence pays off in the end.”

“Oh?” I asked. “And what sort of payoff are you hoping for?”

He shrugged. “I do not know yet. Perhaps the chance to speak with you in a place other than your Tavern.”

I took a drink from my bottle of water. “And what's wrong with the Tavern?”

“Nothing at all,” he replied. “But I would like the chance to speak to you when you're not so – distracted.”

I looked at him and could see the confidence brimming within him. He was getting a little bit better about not sounding so stiff and awkward. The words coming out of his mouth seemed far more natural, and he'd been nothing but exceedingly respectful. He was learning.

“And how did you like the music this evening?” I asked.

He looked at me with an expression that told me he'd been enraptured by it. “It was amazing. Truly amazing,” he said. “I was disappointed that you didn't perform, though.”

I shrugged. “I don't perform every night,” I said. “Being the owner of the place, I sometimes have a pretty full plate.”

“Of course,” he said. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to imply–”

“It's okay, Baz,” I said. “Seriously.”

There was an inscrutable expression his face. One that read like frustration as if he were angry with himself for being so painfully awkward and not really being very good at chatting a woman up.

“Where are you from, Baz?” I asked.

He gave me a rueful grin. “A place you've probably never heard of before,” he said. “Nothing like this place, that's for sure.”

“Try me,” I said. “I've done a bit of traveling in my life.”

Baz laughed. “Probably not to where I come from,” he said.

I smiled in spite of myself. There was no denying Baz's charm and charisma. He had that in spades. For the first time in a very long time, I wasn't in a hurry to rush away from a man. Baz intrigued me. There was so much about him that was serious. Cloaked in shadow. I had the feeling that there was a lot to his story.

And it shocked to know that I wanted to learn his story. I was of two minds about it, torn between my head and my heart. I knew I wasn't ready for a relationship. But I also knew that they only way to be ready was to actually be open to one.

I wasn't quite there yet, but something about Baz was putting doubts in my own head about that.

“Listen, Paige,” Baz said. “Can I possibly interest you in perhaps, accompanying me out one night? You can bring a chaperone, if you wish.”

“A chaperone?” I laughed.

He cocked his head and looked over at me. “Is that funny?” he asked, sounding genuinely curious.

“I don't wish to frighten you,” I said. “The thought of you dealing with that pains me. I just want you to know that I am on what you call, the up and up. There wouldn't be any monkey business, I assure you.”

“Monkey business?” I asked and grinned. “What era are you in?”

“The current one, of course,” he said, not seeming to understand my humor.

I laughed without meaning to, and an expression of hurt crossed Baz's features. He was trying so very hard. I opened my mouth to speak and was surprised by what came out.

“You know what?” I asked. “I'd love to go out with you. And don't worry, we don't need a chaperone.”

He looked at me with an expression of stunned disbelief. “Truly?” he asked.

“Truly,” I said.

I had no idea what possessed me to agree to go out with him, but it didn't look like I had much of a choice anymore. I looked over at Josie who shot me a wink and flashed me a smile, obviously overhearing our conversation and approving of it.

It was just a little conversation over coffee or something. Nothing major, and definitely no commitment implied. Worst case scenario, it doesn't go well and I lose a customer at the Tavern. Not the end of the world.

Chapter Thirteen

The sun was shining down upon the bay, reflecting off the water and nearly blinding me with the dazzling brilliance. Baz seemed to be soaking up both the sunshine and the salty sea air. His head was thrown back and his eyes closed as he breathed in deeply, looking relaxed and far less awkward for the first time since we'd met.

I couldn't help but stare at him, in awe of his sheer beauty. His pale skin was the purest white I'd ever seen. Some people might look sickly being that pale, but not Baz. Somehow, he made it look not only healthy, but natural. It was as if he was not a man, but rather was made of stone like he had been carved from alabaster, perhaps. He was reminiscent of a statue you'd expect to see in a museum.

And knowing that I had such a strong reaction to his physical attributes, I knew I was going to have to be doubly on guard to not let myself get too deeply involved or otherwise do something stupid.

His hair was a stark contrast to his skin. The sun brought out bluish highlights in his otherwise jet-black hair. It was silky and long, and he'd worn it free, letting it catch the wind and wrap around his face as he soaked in the surroundings.

A picnic on the bay had been his idea, and he seemed to be enjoying himself. Even before we started eating or talking much, I saw a very different side to this strange, mysterious, and completely alluring man.

“I love the sea,” he said with a wistful sigh, opening his eyes and smiling at me.

“Me too,” I said. “I always have.”

Baz's eyes twinkled, as if having something in common with me was the highlight of his day.

“What do you love about it?” he asked me, his voice soft.

“I dunno,” I said with a shrug. “Just everything – the smell, the waves crashing on the shore, the cool air that whips through your hair when you're close by. I feel more myself when I'm by the water.”

“So do I,” he said. “It just feels right, and I most definitely feel more like myself near the water.”

I had to agree. He did seem a whole lot more normal out by the bay than he ever did in the Tavern. He seemed more natural and more comfortable, as if somehow just being close to the sea brought him an inner peace. It was a feeling I wholly understood.

The way he looked at me in that shared moment, however, made my cheeks flush.

I kept talking, trying to fill the void with conversation. Silence was always nerve-racking to me, but even more so on a first date. I caught myself as soon as I'd thought it. Date? Was this really a date? I didn't know what to think of it, but I knew that I had to keep tight watch on my emotions.

“Great idea for a picnic out here,” I said. “Such a beautiful day.”

“It is,” he said. “Is this normal? The weather, I mean?”

“It is. Sunny and warm most of the year, but not too warm. It's heavenly,” I said. “Speaking of which, where are you from again?”

Baz didn't answer. Instead, he looked up at the sky, a strange look on his face. Squinting, he just kept staring, as if he saw something unsettling – which made me turn and look. As soon as I did, however, I felt Baz grab me, pushing my face down into the blanket. Terror tore through my body as I feared the worst – was this man crazy? Was he going to hurt me? What was he going to do to me?

“Sorry, I just–” he started to stammer, standing up and nearly tripping over his feet in the process.

“What the hell, Baz? What are you doing?”

“I'll explain later,” he said, rushing off away from me. “We don't have time right now.”

“Time? Explain?”

But my question wasn't heard because Baz was too far away, walking toward the water, staring up at the sky, seeming to mumble to himself.

“Baz!” I called out, climbing to my feet. “Where are you going?”

I followed him, and he turned, yelling back at me. “Please, Paige. Go home. Leave, please. I'll explain later, but you need to get out of here.”

His voice was frantic, and just hearing him beg and plead for me to leave sent chills down my spine. What was going on? I started to ask, but that's when I saw it – saw what he was staring at.

A hunk of metal was in the sky directly above us. It wasn't a helicopter or a plane though. I had no idea what it was, but it was falling fast and coming right toward us.

“Please, run. Paige, I'm begging you.”

But it was too late. Whatever it was hit the ground with a loud boom that shook the earth beneath my feet. I almost lost my balance, but I managed to keep hold of my footing. In the moment of chaos, I swear I saw Baz's outfit changed from what he'd been wearing on our date – a pair of jeans and a white button up shirt – to some sort of full-body suit. He hadn't had time to change, did he?

“Paige! Go, now,” he shouted again. He pulled out a knife, a long sword-like blade that was curved and appeared very, very sharp.

My eyes grew wide. Where had it come from? I had watched as he'd pulled it from a sheath on his back – a sheath that was previously a button-up shirt. Had it been on beneath the shirt the whole time, and I'd just not noticed it? What in the hell was going on?

Was I dreaming?

“Bazarok, your brother sends a message.” The voice spoke in a strange accent – much like Baz's own – and it seemed to come from the large metal contraption.

I watched in stunned disbelief as two men stepped from the metal wreckage, swords of their own in hand. They both looked eerily like Baz with the pale, white skin and dark hair. One had even longer hair – down to his waist and pulled back in a long ponytail. His eyes were coal black, and as he stared at me, it felt like icicles formed inside of my chest.

The other was taller and leaner, but had a scar down the right side of his face as if someone had split his face open and he had somehow lived to tell the tale. His eyes were also black, but his hair was silver, a light blue color that wasn't found naturally on earth.

“Tell my brother I don't want to be retrieved, he can have the throne for all I care,” Baz said.

I was taken aback by his words. He spoke so clearly, as if none of this came as a surprise to him. As if none of this was a shock. I just stood there, frozen in place as I watched the two men walk toward Baz, weapons in hand. Baz was obviously not going down without a fight.

“Tsk, you know better than that, Bazarok,” the silver-haired man said. “You know that as long as you're out here somewhere, you're a threat. And we can't have that, now can we? Why not just make this quick and be done with it?”

The man's eyes flicked over to me, briefly, before turning back to Baz.

Baz looked over at me, too, and there was something in his eyes for the first time since the two men emerged from that wreckage. He was not scared for himself. It was almost like me being there scared him the most. I didn't dare say a word or ask what was going on, mainly because I couldn't find the words. I had no idea what to say even if I could, and I really didn't want to draw attention to myself.

“We both know you're not here to retrieve me,” Baz said. “I know that Kapoc sent you here to dispatch me. I'm no fool. So, let's get on with it, shall we?”

“I guess that settles it then, Jorak” The silver-haired man said to his companion with a smile. “He's no fool, and he knows what Kapoc's true orders are.”

Jorak, the man who'd remained quiet up to that point, lunged toward Baz, his sword slicing through the air with a loud whistle of wind. I closed my eyes, afraid of what I might see, but when I opened them again, Baz was still in one piece. His sword had stopped Jorak's.

But that still left the other man free, and he, too, went toward Baz wildly, knocking him slightly off balance. I screamed as Baz fell, but he thankfully was not hurt.

Until that moment, I hadn't realized I wasn't breathing. I had been holding my breath since the fighting began, but as he fell, I let out a panicked cry. I couldn't bear to watch Baz be hurt, even though I had no idea what was going on or why the two men had come for him. Or who they were. Or why they'd emerged from something that reminded me of a wrecked UFO.

Without thinking, I rushed toward the fighting, determined to help Baz. But when he saw me coming, his eyes grew wide.

“No, Paige, don't!”

The silver-haired man knocked my feet out from under me, and I hit the ground hard, driving the breath right out of my lungs. I laid there, stunned for a moment as I tried to learn how to breathe all over again. Baz looked worried, but he didn't have long.

“Behind you!” I yelled.

Jorak had come up behind him, nearly taking his head off with a wicked slice of his blade, but Baz ducked just in time. The sword came close, though. Too close.

“You know this woman, Baz?” Jorak asked, stepping down on my hand until I cried out in pain. “Does she mean something to you?”

Baz looked at me, and I could see how worried he was, but his answer said otherwise, “No, she's just a human. I am here as an observer. To study. I feel nothing for this other species.”

“Is that so?”

He stepped down harder, and I bit my tongue, determined not to scream, but the man continued bearing all of his weight down on my hand. The earth beneath us was soft, so my hand sank in just a bit, the soil giving way and keeping my fingers from breaking under the weight. It didn't hurt nearly as bad as it could have.

“Just leave her out of it,” Baz screamed.

“Leave her out of it? Really? Did you hear that, Jorak? He doesn't care for her, but he wants us to leave her out of it.”

“Because she's not who you're after. It's me,” Baz snarled. “So come and get me.”

Jorak was too busy laughing with the silver-haired man to noticed Baz's sword move swiftly through the air. One slice – that's all it took. I screamed as Jorak's head crashed down to the ground with a meaty sounding thud, falling a few inches away from my own face. The silver-haired man looked surprised and angry, but also a bit impressed.

“What a fool. He shouldn't have let his guard down,” the silver-haired man said with a sigh. “But that's fine. I can take you out myself.”

The man stepped off my hand, giving me the freedom to grab him by the ankle. Wrapping both my hands around his leg, I pulled him down to the ground. His free leg kicked back hard, hitting me in the face. I saw stars, but I didn't relent. The whole time he fought with me, Baz slipped into position. I'd distracted him enough that Baz now had him by the throat. The tip of his blade was against his flesh, holding him in place, and Baz smiled at him.

“Talking about fools with their guard down – ironic, isn't it?”

Before the man could answer, Baz buried the blade into the soft flesh of his throat. I closed my eyes, but that didn't stop me from seeing blood gushing from the man's neck and splashing to the ground all around me. But what drew the biggest scream for me was the fact that the blood was blue.

I screamed and screamed, but it was as if no one heard me.

No one. Not even Baz. He was lost in his own little world.

And I was lost, afraid I was stuck in a horrible nightmare with no escape.

****

“What in the hell was that?” I stammered. “I just watched you kill two men. Who in the hell were they and what happened? Please tell me that was self-defense. Please, please, please.”

Baz was wiping the blood away, helping me bathe in the bay, and rinsing me off. He didn't say a word, and there was something in his eyes that made me feel almost sad for him, as if he was horrified over the entire scene. At least, I wasn't the only one.

“I really don't know how to explain it to you, Paige,” he said, meeting my gaze. “What do you think you saw?”

My hair was soaking wet, but the blood was gone, at least as far as we could see.

“I don't even know,” I whispered. “I mean, it all felt so – paranormal. So alien. Not sure if that's the right word for it, but whatever it was, it didn't feel human to me.”

“That's because it's not,” he said with a sigh, wiping the water from my cheek with the blanket we had been sitting on before all hell broke loose.

“What do you mean, it's not?”

“It wasn't human,” he said softly. “Because I'm not human.”

Book Two – Revelation

Chapter One: Paige

My heart was hammering in my chest so hard I was sure it could be heard over the waves that crashed ashore close by. My head was spinning, and I had no idea what in the hell was going on. What had I just seen? What had just happened?

I dropped to my knees in the sand, fighting against the tears that stung my eyes. I'd just witness Baz kill two men. He stood up to his ankles in the water, washing blood – blue blood – from the curved blade of a sword I hadn't even known he was carrying. I caught myself looking at the steel blade, watching the way the sunlight glinted off of it.

Was this all just a bad dream? Some horrible waking nightmare brought on by anxiety, perhaps?

I touched my face and felt the sting upon my skin from where one of the men Baz had killed kicked me. My hand also slightly throbbed from where it had been stepped on. No, this was most assuredly not a dream, not unless it was the most exceptionally vivid dream in recorded history.

I looked the man up and down and realized I knew a lot less than I thought I knew about him – which was already virtually nothing. Nothing about any of this made sense to me. What made even less sense, though, was what Baz had just said to me.

“What do you mean you're not human?” I asked him.

He turned and looked at me, a soft, gentle expression upon his face. He finished cleaning the blade of his sword and slid it back into the sheath on his back. Although he'd been wearing jeans and a white button-up shirt when we'd met for our date, he was now dressed in a black bodysuit of a sort. It was tight and clung to his every feature, revealing a man who was well defined and in shape. He was a man who was more powerful and physically imposing than he looked in normal clothing.

That was assuming that he was actually a man. Given what I'd witnessed, I had no idea what he was.

Baz moved away from the water and walked over to where I was still kneeling. I flinched as he dropped to his knees beside me, and I saw a look of hurt in his eyes. I had no reason to believe that he would hurt me. In fact, he'd never been anything but kind and a perfect gentleman. But then, after having witnessed him kill two men, I was on guard.

“I'm sorry you have been brought into this,” Baz said. “It was never my desire for you to be involved.”

I was having trouble forming coherent thoughts, let alone words. A million different and competing questions raced through my brain, but I couldn't make sense of any of them.

“What was your desire then?” I asked.

The question was out of my mouth before I was even aware that I was going to ask it. I looked him in the eye, though, as some part of my brain desperately sought an answer. I'd let my guard down enough to agree to a date with Baz, which was no small feat in my world. It had been forever since I'd trusted a man enough to date him. Hard-earned experience had taught me that even the most seemingly normal man could turn vicious and evil on a dime.

But there was something about Baz that made me believe he was more than that and better than that. I knew instinctively that he was genuinely as warm and caring as he seemed. So perhaps the piece of my brain that still wanted to believe also needed answers to questions that seemed out of place. Perhaps, some small part of my brain needed to know that I hadn't made yet another bad decision in a man and that when it came to matters of the heart, I wasn't a completely lost cause.

When it came to the heart, the strangest things sometimes arose at the strangest times.

“My desire?” he asked softly, as if speaking to himself. “My desire was – is – only to get to know you, Paige. You're unlike any woman I've ever known. Unlike any woman where I come from. All I wanted was a chance to get to know you.”

His words struck a chord deep within me, and I wasn't sure how to reconcile what I was feeling. On the one hand, Baz had stirred emotions within me that had long been dormant. After my last terrible relationship, I'd given up on the idea of dating or of finding a good, decent man. I'd thrown myself into my newest endeavors – my club, my art, and my music. I was focused on doing those things that made me happy, filled me with joy, and gave me a sense of satisfaction. Everything I was doing at the Mahogany Tavern, be it performing or helping spotlight new performers, made me feel whole.

But then this stranger – this beautiful stranger – had come into my world and had started turning it upside down, if only a little. I was struggling with my thoughts and emotions and with my very perception of reality at the moment. I knew what I'd seen and what had happened, but I was having more than a little trouble reconciling that in my head.

I needed answers. I wiped away the tears that had rolled down my cheeks and bit my tongue hard, trying to prevent more from falling. I needed to clear my head and heart. As a lawyer, I'd prided myself on my ability to separate emotion from rational thought when it came to getting to the heart of an issue. It was something my father had ingrained within me and something that had made me such a good attorney.

And it was what I needed there in that moment. I needed my mind to be sharp. I needed to cut through the emotional noise in my head and get the answers I needed.

“Baz, you said you're not human,” I said. “What did you mean by that? Who are – were – those men? Why did you kill them?”

Baz sighed and dropped down into the sand on his butt. He looked at me with eyes that told me he was reluctant to share his story, but I stared back at him evenly, unwilling to let it go.

“Who are you really, Baz?” I pressed. “I want the truth. I'm tired of the bullshit.”

“I will assume that bullshit carries a negative connotation, perhaps one of untruthfulness.”

I rolled my eyes. “Stop screwing with me.”

“Are you certain you are ready for the truth, Paige?” he asked. “Will you be able to accept that what I'm about to tell you is without bullshit?”

“Let's find out,” I replied.

He nodded and sighed, looking down at the sand beneath his feet. “Then I will tell you everything.”

Chapter Two: Baz

Paige was tenacious, fiery, and scared. I could see the fear in her eyes, and it caused me no small amount of anguish. The last thing I'd wanted was for her to be involved in any of this. I'd wanted to protect her from it. And I wanted to continue protecting her from it.

But my brother hadn't allowed that to happen. He hadn't allowed me to explore what I felt for Paige. He'd forced my hand by sending his assassins. I suppose I should have anticipated it, but part of me had grown comfortable on this planet and among its people. Part of me believed I'd blended in and could stay well hidden from my brother.

Apparently, I had been wrong. So very wrong. I should have known better.

“Yes, you should have known better,” Anjol said to me. “This is what happens when you delve into your emotions. This is why Optorions trust and rely on logic.”

“Quiet,” I snapped. “I do not require your input or attitude.”

“Who are you talking to?” Paige asked curiously.

I looked up and realized that I'd spoken out loud. Paige looked at me with her head cocked and an expression upon her face that was half curiosity, half fear. Everything I did seemed to cause her no small amount of fear and anxiety.

“It's not you,” I said. “I was speaking with my – computer.”

Paige looked at me like I'd gone quite mad. And perhaps, I had. All I knew was that I had been enjoying my time with her and getting to know her. And now, I realized that everything was in jeopardy because of my brother.

I knew that the only way to salvage anything out of this association with Paige and to allow me to continue getting to know her was to allay her fears, answer all of her questions, and be painfully honest about everything.

“Your computer?” she asked.

I nodded and tapped my head. “He's an organically based, artificially-intelligent computer system,” I said. “His name is Anjol, and he can communicate via an implanted chip in my brain. I hear his voice as clearly as I hear yours.”

“Uh huh,” she said. “And what, he can hear your thoughts?”

“Essentially, yes,” I replied. “Though, explaining the precise nature of the technology would be a dry, tedious thing. And truth be told, it's not something I can adequately explain anyway. But Anjol hears what I think and sees what I see. It's almost as if he is a part of me in a way. But to answer your question, yes, we can communicate without the need to speak actual words. Thoughts are sufficient.”

The expression on Paige's face was one of open skepticism and wasn't very difficult to discern. But mixed in with all of the doubt, there was also a trace of curiosity as well that was tempered by her unease.

“So, if you're not human, what are you?” she asked. “Who are you?”

I looked at her, momentarily afraid to speak. It was something of a new feeling for me. I'd never been afraid to give voice to my thoughts before. As the son of a king, I never had to be. But Paige was opening up new ways of thinking and being inside of me. And though these feelings and uncertainty inside of me were new, I didn't necessarily see it as a bad thing. It was just uncomfortable.

“My name is Bazarok,” I said. “I am the son of King Undorok, prince of the planet Optorio.”

Paige's eyes widened slightly, and the look of skepticism on her face deepened. “Prince of the planet Optorio? Are you serious right now?”

I cocked my head. “I can assure you that I am very serious, Paige,” I said. “You asked me to be completely honest, and so I am being completely honest.”

She sat back in the sand and ran a hand through her hair. As I watched her hair stir in the breeze and the sunlight caress her skin, I had the overwhelming urge to reach out and run my fingertips across her cheek. But I knew it wasn't appropriate and would not be well received, so I stayed my hand. She looked at me but said nothing.

“Though, in all honesty,” I said, “I suppose I should not call myself a prince any longer. I gave up my throne when I left Optorio after my father died. I left rule of my home world to my brother.”

“Why would you do that?”

“I had no interest in ruling,” I said. “My interest is in exploration and discovery. That's where my true passion is.”

Paige shook her head and focused her eyes on me again, her gaze intense. I had to admit that being under such scrutiny was a little unnerving – yet another new experience for me. I was used to people deferring in my presence. Some of them even looked away. It was rare that someone was willing to look me in the eye for an extended period of time. Rarer still was the person who looked like they were dissecting me with their gaze.

“Okay, we'll get back to all that in a minute,” she said. “Who were those two men? And why did you kill them?”

“Assassins,” I said. “They were sent by my brother.”

“If you gave up your throne to him, why would he send assassins?” she asked. “That makes no sense whatsoever.”

I looked out at the sea and watched the waves crashing upon the shore. It was so beautiful, and in many ways, so similar to the shoreline on Optorio. Yet, in many other ways, it was completely alien to me.

“Because as long as I live, I am a threat to his crown,” I said. “The rightful claim to the throne is mine, and he knows this. The only way he can be the rightful king is if I am dead.”

“So they were here to kill you?” she asked. “And you had to kill them, otherwise you'd be dead. Right?”

I nodded. “That is correct.”

She pointed to their ship, which was still in the sand. “And that – that's a UFO or something?”

I cocked my head. “I am not sure what a UFO is. That is their transport. It is a Vanjar class–”

“A UFO is human parlance for unidentified flying object,” Anjol interrupted. “It is what the humans commonly believe alien beings use to visit their planet.”

“But I'm not an alien being,” I said, kicking myself for speaking aloud once again.

Paige looked at me blankly. “Your organic computer friend again?”

I cleared my throat. “Anjol, yes.”

“Technically speaking,” Anjol went on, “you are not of this world, which does in fact, make you an alien being here.”

“You are not being very helpful,” I remembered to think, rather than say this time.

“So, you're an alien prince,” Paige said after a long moment. “And you're being chased across the galaxy by assassins sent by a brother who wants to kill you.”

I nodded. “It's a bit of a simplistic interpretation,” I said. “But fairly apt, yes.”

She looked at the bodies of the two assassins and seemed to be struggling with the reality of it all. She shook her head and muttered something to herself, low enough that I could not hear. After a long moment, she looked back at me, and I saw that she'd come to a decision in her own mind.

“I have to go,” she said simply. “I – I just can't be here. And we need to call the police about this.”

“I ask that you do not involve your authorities, Paige.”

“There are two dead bodies on the beach, Baz,” she said, her voice rising. “The police are going to get involved one way or another. As a former lawyer, I can tell you that it's best to get out in front of something like this.”

I shook my head. “There won't be any bodies,” I said. “I will take care of this.”

She looked at me, and I could see the anger growing in her eyes. “What, so now you're going to tamper with a crime scene? Do you even know–”

I held up my hand. “Paige, your authorities will not know what to do or make of any of this,” I said. “They have neither the understanding, nor the technological equipment to make sense of this situation.”

My words seemed to stump her, and though she opened her mouth to argue further, she closed it again without speaking.

“I do not mean to denigrate your people,” I said. “I am merely trying to impress upon you just how delicate this situation is, and how much unrest it could cause if what happened here and who and what these two men are were known.”

She stared off into the distance for a long moment without speaking. She seemed to be having a conversation with herself in her own mind, or, judging by the expression upon her face, a debate.

Finally, she turned to me, most of the anger that had been in her face diffused. “What will you do with them?”

“I will dispose of them,” I said. “The details need not concern you.”

She nodded slightly but said nothing for another long moment. I could feel her slipping away from me. Paige was constructing a wall and was intentionally putting distance between us. I could see it in her face and feel it in the energy that radiated from her.

I watched as Paige got to her feet and felt a keen sense of loss already. It was a strange, foreign feeling and one I was having trouble reconciling within my own mind. She looked down at me, and I saw an expression on her face that I couldn't put a name to. Perhaps the best way to describe it was – haunted. Perhaps it was sorrow. I couldn't say for sure.

“I need some space,” she finally said, her voice little more than a whisper. “I need some time to myself. Away from you.”

“Paige, I–”

She held up a hand and cut me off. “No, Baz. Don't,” she said. “I can't be around you right now. Honestly, I don't know if I can be around you ever again.”

She gave me one last look before turning and walking away from me. There was a sudden, lancing pain in my heart. It was foolish. I barely knew this woman – this human woman. I hadn't come to this planet looking for a mate. I hadn't come to this planet by design at all. But in the brief time I'd been there, I'd found something I hadn't anticipated in Paige. And now that I knew I was on the verge of losing her, the pain inside of me was deep and abiding.

As the son of a king and the next in line for the throne, I'd never wanted for female companionship. I'd had women quite literally throwing themselves at me. But most of them had never interested me. I'd never had a sustained relationship with a woman back on Optorio, mostly because I realized most of the women I'd been with weren't with me because they liked me as a man. They were with me because they liked me as the next king. It was the crown and not the man they were attracted to and wanted to be with.

To say I'd found that off-putting would be putting it mildly.

But Paige was different. In the brief time I'd known her, I'd come to realize that she was what I wanted in a mate. Intelligent. Independent. Unafraid to challenge me. She treated me as her equal, not as somebody to put on a pedestal or as someone who could benefit her. She saw me as just a man – nothing more and nothing less – and that was exactly what I wanted in a mate.

But as I watched her walk away, getting smaller in the distance, I knew it wasn't going to be.

“Don't let it trouble you. You weren't here to find a mate anyway,” Anjol said. “Your priority should be to fix the ship and move on – your original plan, yes?”

I ignored him, but Anjol was right, of course. I hadn't come here to find a mate. I did not know if I had room in my life for a mate, truth be told. But that didn't make the pain in my heart any less significant.

I stood up and walked over to the bodies of my two would-be assassins. Though saddened by the need to take their lives, I knew I'd had no choice. I knelt between them, bowed my head, and said a few words of sorrow and atonement. Standing up again, I removed two small capsules from my belt and placed one on each body. Pressing a button my wristlet, the two capsules made a soft popping sound as they exploded. The liquid that poured out of the capsules began to immediately disintegrate the bodies.

I stood and watched as the fluid work quickly. It wasn't long before both bodies had been dissolved. Other than the shallow depressions in the sand where they'd laid, they were gone, almost as if they'd never been. I turned and placed three more capsules on their ship. As I walked away, I touched the button my wristlet again, detonating the capsules and erasing all traces that the assassins had ever been there to begin with. Though I wondered how long I'd be waiting until more arrived to try and finish the job.

With Paige gone, I was left to walk back to the hotel where I'd taken a room. It wasn't a long walk, but the pleasantness of the day that I had been enjoying had been ruined by everything that had happened.

Chapter Three: Paige

It had been a little more than a day since I'd left Baz standing on the beach, and I still wasn't any closer to understanding everything that had happened. On one level, I understood that the two men had showed up intent on killing him. That much had been clear. I understood that he had acted in self-defense in killing them. Hell, I'd even helped him with that.

But that's where my understanding stopped and my confusion – not to mention my fear – began.

I'd always been a rational, logical person. It was in my DNA. Even as a child, I'd eschewed the fantastical and had focused on the facts and on the things I knew to be true, or at least the things I could prove were true. Things like Bigfoot or UFOs never interested me, simply because they could not be proven to be true. I'd honestly never given them much thought because they were too fantastical to be believed.

But Baz had challenged my reality. In fact, he hadn't just challenged it, he'd shattered it. I'd watched him kill two men – and the craziest thing was, that wasn't even the thing that had rattled me the most.

What rattled me the most was the fact that the two men he'd killed had emerged from what I could only assume was a spaceship of some sort. It was unlike anything I'd ever seen and was nothing like the typical flying saucer type thing you typically saw on those cheesy alien shows on the History Channel.

“Earth to Paige,” Josie said, snapping her fingers in front of my face. “You with me, girl?”

I shook my head and tried to clear my thoughts. The last thing I needed to be thinking about right then and there were alien assassins. I had work to do and needed to focus on that. I looked around the club and saw the staff bustling about, getting ready for another night of music.

“Yeah, sorry,” I said and gave her a smile. “What's up?”

Josie looked at me and raised an eyebrow. “You okay tonight, Paige?”

I nodded. “Of course,” I lied. “I'm fine. Just a little distracted. No big deal.”

Josie looked at me a moment longer, and I cringed inwardly. She knew me better than anyone and always knew when I wasn't being honest. I could tell by the look on her face that she didn't believe me, but she seemed willing to let it go for now. But knowing her as I did, it was only a matter of time before she came back and tried to force me to talk.

“I was just asking how your date with Baz went,” she said and smiled.

Oh yeah, it was a great date – if by great, you mean a date filled with UFOs and alien assassins. It was great if you watched the man you were interested in kill two strangers, self-defense or not, I thought to myself. Though, I was smart enough to keep that to myself and not give voice to those thoughts.

I shrugged. “It was okay, I guess.”

She looked at me. “Just okay?” she said. “You guess?”

I gave her a laugh I hoped didn't sound as forced as it was. “Yeah,” I said. “It was fine. It was good.”

“He seemed like an interesting guy,” she continued. “Absolutely gorgeous, but way the hell awkward.”

I laughed. “He is interesting. And he's a very different guy in a setting that isn't so public. He's a little more reserved in social settings.”

Josie laughed. “It's hard to believe that somebody so gorgeous, who obviously has his pick of the women, could be socially awkward.”

I shrugged. “Being beautiful doesn't necessarily mean you're not shy,” I said and grinned at her. “Not all of us can be like you, Jo – a knockout and great in social settings.”

“Obviously,” she giggled. “They did sort of break the mold after me, didn't they?”

“Obviously,” I said and smiled.

If there was one person I could tell about all of this, it was Josie. She might not understand, but she'd listen. She'd try to counsel me as best as she could. Which, given the fact that I was talking about a space alien, I wasn't sure how good her best was going to be. It was all sort of uncharted territory.

But I knew what I'd seen and knew what I'd experienced. However, I was still having trouble wrapping my mind around it all. It didn't seem real. Surreal perhaps, but definitely not reality based. UFOs and aliens weren't something I'd ever given conscious thought to. If I had thought about it, I probably would have scoffed at the idea.

I knew I could talk to Josie and spill my guts, but I also knew I couldn't. The last thing I needed at the moment was for my best friend to think I'd lost my marbles. If I told her my story, I couldn't blame her if she thought I'd lost it, but that wasn't what I wanted.

Besides, what was I going to say? “Oh yeah, the guy I was into turned out to be an alien prince from another planet. And by the way, he killed two guys who tried to assassinate him down on the beach. Cool story, right?”

No, this was something I had to deal with on my own.

“Hey, did you hear that some meteor or something crashed on the beach yesterday?” Josie asked, abruptly changing the subject.

Or at least, she thought she was changing the subject. Little did she know, that meteor wasn't a meteor at all, but was something else I couldn't – or rather, wouldn't – talk about. I merely shook my head.

“No, I didn't hear about it,” I lied, and immediately felt bad about doing so to my best friend.

“Yeah, I guess it hit near Hadley's Cove,” she said.

I immediately thought about Baz and the bodies. Surely, if two bodies had been found, it would have been big news around town, right?

“Did they find anything?” I asked almost hesitantly. “Like the meteor or whatever it was?”

Josie shook her head. “Nah, I don't think so,” she said. “Heard a couple of geeks saying it probably disintegrated on impact or something. Whatever. It put a little jolt of excitement into this town for a day or so, though.”

“Yeah well, something has to,” I said, a nervous laugh escaping me.

“Anyway, I should probably go check in with Jerome backstage and see if he needs anything before he goes on.”

I nodded absently. “Yeah, probably a good idea.”

Josie stood there and looked at me for a long moment. “You okay, hon?”

Her voice snapped me out of my head and I looked over at her, giving a faint smile. “Yeah, I'm fine,” I lied. “Just tired, I guess. Haven't been sleeping all that well lately.”

Josie arched and eyebrow at me, and I saw that familiar suggestive smile touch her lips. “Oh really now?” she said. “Would it by chance have anything to do with a certain tall, pale stranger?”

I rolled my eyes. “Yes, of course. We've been banging like rabbits every night since I met him.”

“Believe me, hon,” she said. “I wish you were. You need to get laid more than any woman I've ever known. Possibly more than any woman in the history of the world.”

I shook my head as a small flash of irritation shot through me. Josie meant well and always had my best interests at heart. She just didn't quite understand that when it came to love and relationships, my experience was radically different than hers and not quite so wonderful. I was slower and more cautious than she was, and my view of love and relationships was quite a bit more complicated than hers.

“Hey, listen,” I said. “You think you can handle things here? I'm thinking about going out of town for a couple of days. Would you mind holding down the fort?”

Josie looked at me, and her grin widened. I knew exactly what she was thinking.

“No,” I said. “I am not going out of town with Baz. I just need to take care of a few things.”

She looked disappointed, but nodded. “Yeah, of course. I can handle things here.”

I reached out and took her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Thanks, Jo,” I said. “I owe you one.”

“No problem,” she said. “Where are you headed? If you don't mind me asking.”

I gave her a small grin. I had no idea where I was going at the moment. I hadn't realized I was going to take off for a few days until I'd spoken the words aloud. The idea had just popped into my head and then had come flying out of my mouth with no conscious thought or decision.

But the instant I said it, it felt right. It felt like something I needed to do. I needed to get out of Sapphire Bay for a few days to clear my head, to sort through things, and try to accept this new reality I'd been exposed to, or find the lie behind it all. Either way, I couldn't do any of those things if I stayed in town. I needed a break.

But I couldn't tell Josie that I had no destination in mind. I couldn't tell her that I just needed to split for a while. That would put her on instant alert that something was going on with me, and then she'd hector and badger me until I gave it up. And I wasn't ready to give it up just yet. I couldn't. So as much as it bothered me to do it, I had to lie to her again.

“Yeah, I have to head down to Big Sur,” I said.

She immediately looked sorry for asking. “Everything okay?”

I nodded. “Yeah, everything's fine,” I said. “Just a little family deal. No biggie.”

She squeezed my hand and gave me a gentle smile. “No sweat, Paige,” she said. “You just go do what you have to do, and I'll look after things here.”

“Thanks, sweetie.”

Chapter Four

Of all the places I could have gone, I made the trip down to Big Sur. It was only an hour and a half away from Sapphire Bay, but it somehow still felt like another world. The house had been in our family for a long time. It belonged to my grandfather, and my parents used it as a summer home, or just when they wanted to get away for a long weekend.

My father didn't often take off from work for very long. Even when we were at the house in Big Sur, he was still reviewing and preparing cases. The man never stopped working. But my mother never seemed to mind. She was happy and content to be married to one of San Francisco's top prosecutors, and she enjoyed her role as a housewife and mother.

I had a lot of happy memories of the house in Big Sur and had always enjoyed my time there as a kid. It was a beautiful place, and it made sense that my folks would retire to the house after my father quit practicing law.

What didn't make sense to me was that I would run there as a first choice when things around me had been thrown into chaos. It wasn't like I had the best relationship with my folks. I certainly never confided in them, nor had I ever sat down and discussed all of my life's woes with them. We didn't have that kind of relationship. Not anymore, anyway.

At one time, I'd enjoyed talking to my parents. My mom and I had been especially close. I could always talk to them about anything and everything, and I often did. My parents would often give me fantastic advice and a very friendly shoulder to cry on when needed.

At least, until the Big Disappointment, anyway.

The Big Disappointment – and I always heard it in my mind with a capital B and D – was me giving up my career in law to pursue my dreams. I blamed it in part on a generational difference between us. My folks grew up in an era where hard work was rewarded, and following your heart was something only degenerates did.

Ever since the Big Disappointment, our relationship had cooled. But every once in a while, I got a little glimpse of how things used to be, mostly from my mom. I got the feeling that deep down, she was happy for me and didn't carry the deep disapproval that my father did. But I supposed that out of deference to him, she toed the line.

They never outright shunned me, but they made it clear that they were not happy with my decisions, which always made for fun holiday dinners.

But at the end of the day, they were my parents for better or for worse, and I had to believe that when the chips were down, they'd be there for me. Perhaps things wouldn't be like they were – maybe they never would be again – but they would never turn me away and would always be willing to talk.

I pulled into the driveway and parked my car. Sitting behind the wheel, I looked at the house and the soft glow in the windows. It looked so warm and so welcoming. So inviting. Yet, everything in me was resisting getting out of the car and going inside.

“Get a grip, Paige,” I said to myself. “It's for a couple of days. You can deal with it for a couple of days. You can do that standing on your head. Pull up your big girl panties.”

I sighed and grasped the door handle, giving myself one more mental kick in the ass. Getting out of the car, I shut it again and took a deep breath. The aroma of the pines blended with the sea air, creating a heady, intoxicating mixture. It was one I never grew tired of. That was part of the reason I settled in Sapphire Bay – it was very similar to Big Sur in terms of climate and that wonderful scent. The best part of course, is that it wasn't Big Sur, and I wasn't living too near to my folks.

The front door opened, spilling soft, yellow light onto the driveway. Silhouetted in the doorway was my father. He stared out into the darkness that had wrapped itself around me. They didn't get visitors very often, and my father was usually a bit suspicious when somebody rolled into their driveway unannounced. He always had been. I figured it was thanks to his job. As a very successful prosecutor, he'd received plenty of death threats throughout his career. Call it professional paranoia.

“Paige, is that you?” he called.

“Yeah, dad,” I said. “It's me.”

I crossed the driveway and stood at the bottom of the porch steps, looking up at my dad. He was getting older, that was for sure. But he still had plenty of fire left in him. I wouldn't completely count him out of a fight.

My father looked down at me from his position on the porch. “What's going on, Paige?” he asked. “What brings you all the way out here? No customers? Your club not playing music tonight?”

I caught the cold, disapproving tone in his words – not that it was all that subtle to begin with. I got the impression from his tone and the look on his face that he'd half expected me to tell him I was going under and I needed some money from him to help bail me out. Money, I knew, that would not be forthcoming since they'd never approved of my decision to open the club in the first place.

“No, dad,” I replied, trying hard to keep the pride out of my voice. “Business is booming and our audience is growing exponentially.”

“Huh,” he said. “Well, I suppose that's good news.”

I nodded and a smile touched my lips. I so badly wanted to throw an “I told you so” in his face. He'd never believed in the Mahogany Tavern. He was never afraid to express his belief that we'd be belly up in a year. He'd never believed in my dream, and he'd never believed in me.

I kept trying to tell myself that it was a generational thing. That we didn't speak the same language. But that didn't take the sting out of it any less.

“Yeah, it's going really well,” I said. “I'm really happy about it.”

My father nodded. “So, what brings you all the way out here?”

“I was hoping I could crash here for a couple of days,” I said.

He looked at me, an inscrutable expression on his face. “Something wrong with your place? Did you get evicted or something?”

I sighed. “No, I didn't get evicted,” I said. “I just needed to get out of Sapphire Bay for a couple of days. Decompress a bit.”

“You okay? Something going on?”

There was a hell of a lot going on. But nothing I was able – or willing – to share with my mom and dad. If I couldn't tell Josie, there was no way in hell I was going to tell them.

“Nothing's really going on,” I replied. “I've just been swamped lately and wanted a couple of days to get away from it all and get my head back on straight again.”

My father looked at me and scratched at the light stubble on his chin, making a dry, scratchy noise. It was his one concession to retirement. He was meticulous about his appearance and back when he was practicing law, would sometimes shave twice a day to avoid stubble. These days, he might go a full day or two between shaves. A regular wild man, my dad.

“Get away from it all, huh?” he said, that tone of disapproval and judgment back in his voice.

“Yeah, dad,” I said. “I've been working seven days a week, thirteen, fourteen hours a day. I just wanted a little time off to catch my breath.”

To my father, taking time off from work was a decadent luxury. One he'd never been a fan of while he was working. And now, even though he was retired, he still kept very busy. He wasn't one for idle time and didn't do well doing nothing. The idea of taking a break from working was anathema to the man.

He shrugged. “Yeah sure,” he said. “Guest room's all made up. You can stay.”

He gave me one more long look before turning and walking back into the house, leaving the door open behind him. Yeah, I was getting all warm and fuzzy inside and felt so welcome.

“What did you expect, Paige?” I muttered to myself.

With a sigh, I turned and got my bags out of the car and walked into the house. This was going to be a fun couple of days.

Chapter Five: Baz

Unable to bear being caged in my room like a common animal, I walked around the city of Sapphire Bay. The sky was dark, the stars were glimmering, and the thin sickle of the Moon high overhead bathed the world around me in a soft, glowing, silvery light. It was beautiful.

I'd had no charted course or plan when I'd left my room at the lodging establishment. I had just wanted to get out and walk, figuring that, eventually, I would find a quiet place on their ocean's shore and indulge myself with a swim in the waters.

But when I looked up, I found that I was nowhere near the shoreline. I stood across the street from Paige's Tavern. The doors were open, and the music flowed out of it, soft and gentle, like the light from the moon.

“Your destination seems to be a very odd coincidence,” Anjol said. “Don't you think?”

I ignored my computer companion and took a seat in front of the shop I was standing at before. From where I sat, I had not just a clear view of the Mahogany Tavern, but could hear the music clearly. Just as every time I'd listened to this human music before, I was enchanted and mesmerized by it. It was unlike anything we had back on Optorio.

Oh, we had our forms of music, and they could certainly be beautiful. But what I was hearing was breathtaking. Moving. It really reached in and touched something deep within me. Nothing I'd heard back on my home world had ever been able to do that before.

“I have been doing some research on this species,” Anjol said. “And while they are peculiar, I will grant you that they are fascinating.”

“Yes, they are,” I murmured, trying to focus on the music.

“They have a number of interesting sayings, I must tell you,” Anjol rattled on. “Some of which come out of laws they have enacted.”

“Do you have a point?” I asked. “I am trying to enjoy the music.”

“Only that, understanding you as I do, I know that you are seated across from that musical establishment with the hope that you will see her,” Anjol said. “Further, what you are doing, the humans would refer to as ‘stalking.’”

“I am not stalking,” I said. “I am simply listening to the music and enjoying it.”

“Uh huh.” For a computer system, Anjol had seemingly mastered the art of sarcasm. “Oh, I am sure that's it.”

“You know, I am strongly considering deactivating you for the duration of my stay here,” I said.

“You could do that, of course,” Anjol said in a tone that implied he knew I wouldn't. “But if you do, you will be utterly alone here with no source of information.”

I leaned back on the bench I was seated in and sighed. Anjol was correct. I needed him to process information and feed it to me as I required it. I also needed him to ensure that I had open lines of communication. But that didn't mean I was not still annoyed by him.

“It would appear that we are stuck with one another,” I said.

“It would appear so,” Anjol replied. “That being said, I have received a communication from your associate, Tarkonil–”

“My friend,” I said. “Tarkonil is my friend, not just an associate.”

“Very well. Your friend, Tarkonil, sent a communication stating that he will be here with everything required to repair your ship by tomorrow,” Anjol said. “He said that he is also bringing news.”

“News about what?”

“I am afraid that I do not know,” Anjol said. “He was not comfortable speaking over an open communication line. He said to tell you that he would inform you of his news when he arrived.”

It had to be about what was going on back home. And if he didn't feel comfortable speaking over an open comm line, I had to assume that the news would not be good, which made me believe that my brother had somehow overthrown the regent council I'd appointed and seized control for himself.

This left me with a problem. If my brother had full control of Optorio, there was nothing stopping him from doing everything he wished, including going to war with one of our rivals or sending an endless line of assassins after me.

“It is useless to speculate,” Anjol said. “You will only increase your own anxiety over what may turn out to be nothing.”

“Though, it is more likely than not to turn out to be something.”

“Perhaps. But until you are proven correct, why not do what you said you came here to do and enjoy the music?”

I sighed and tried to quiet my mind. Anjol was right. I needed to be focused and clear headed. I did not need to get myself worked up about things that were, as of yet, unknown. If Tarkonil was going to tell me that Kapoc had seized control of Optorio, we would figure out the best course of action then. Until then, I tried to keep myself grounded and centered. I would do no good for anybody with my levels of anxiety heightened and my thinking unsound.

As much as I hated admitting to Anjol when he was right – he was right. I did not know what the coming days would bring, so I needed to calm my mind and enjoy the music while I could. I watched the doorway and let the sound of the music fill my mind and my soul. I closed my eyes and soaked it in as it brought me some small measure of peace.

“If it helps you at all,” Anjol interrupted the music once more. “She is not here. I find no trace of her anywhere in this city. So you need not concern yourself with that human woman or with matters of the heart. It will do you no good and only further cloud your thinking.”

Anjol had meant to help me find a sense of peace, but all he did was make the tension I already felt spike even higher. If Paige wasn't in the city at all, where was she? Was she with somebody else? Why had she gone? Did she need to get away from me that badly?

In the material Anjol had provided me to study up on human emotions and behaviors, I knew there was a name for what I was feeling. They were both foreign to me, and I had to say, I did not enjoy feeling either. But in human terms, what I was feeling was called ‘jealousy and insecurity.’

Chapter Six: Paige

“Are you hungry, Paige?” my mother asked. “We have some leftovers from dinner, and I can make you a plate.”

I gave her a small smile and nodded. “I am pretty hungry actually. That'd be great,” I said. “Thanks, mom.”

I sat in the kitchen watching my mother bustle around, pulling a few containers out of the refrigerator. She was a small, petite woman. Her graying hair was kept in a ponytail that reached just below her shoulders, and it was the same hairstyle I'd seen her wear just about every single day of my life. She only did her hair up for special occasions. Otherwise, it was always back in that ponytail to keep it out of her way while she cooked, cleaned, or gardened. She was nothing if not practical.

As I watched her move around, I noticed that she was a little slower and stiffer than I remembered. The lines around her eyes and mouth were a little deeper, and her hair was a couple shades more gray than the last time I'd seen her. It was a reminder to me that time marches on and spares no one. It made me sad to see my mother aging. It made the distance between my parents and I that much more stark, pronounced, and that much more heartbreaking to me.

I stood up and pulled a plate out of the cabinet and set it down on the counter. I took my seat again and looked around. Not much had changed in this place over the years. My parents were creatures of habit and much preferred the known and comfortable to the new and potentially wild.

They weren't really the adventurous types and never had been, which was yet another difference in our personalities. As much as I did love routine and the familiar, I absolutely craved different. I longed for adventure. I was willing to put myself out there and take a chance just to see what happened. It was a state of mind and a way of being that they could neither relate to nor understand.

Growing up – and to this day, truth be told – I often wondered how I came from their genes.

Even still, despite all of our differences and the relatively recent cooling of our familial relationship, I remembered enjoying plenty of happy times in this house. I remembered a few Christmases spent here that were among the happier times in my life. I remembered a house filled with laughter and joy.

But as I watched my mother heating up my plate – and my father noticeably absent – I was overcome by a wave of nostalgia, mixed with sadness and longing. I wanted the closeness of our family back. I wanted that unbridled happiness and love again. I missed it and even craved it. Not having my parents fully in my corner and not having them believe in me left me feeling like I had a hole in my heart that I didn't know could ever be filled again.

“You awake, dear?”

My mother's voice snapped me out of my reverie. I came back down to earth and found myself looking her into her eyes – eyes that were much like my own. Hers, though, were filled with concern and something else. Something I couldn't quite place. It was a strange look, but I had no idea what she was thinking.

I looked down at the plate that she'd put on the counter before me. Taking a deep breath, I savored the aroma. Say what you will, but there really is nothing that beats home cooking. Not the finest steak in the most expensive steak house in the world and not the most amazing plate of sushi in Tokyo. Nothing beat my mom's cooking. It was especially true of her famous spaghetti carbonara.

The scent of the garlic bread – the garlic and cheese spread made from scratch, of course – as well as the tantalizing aroma of the pasta itself was amazing. My stomach growled in both anticipation and appreciation.

“I haven't had this in quite a while,” I said.

“Lucky for you, I was in a mood to make it tonight,” she replied. “Perhaps it was serendipity. It's been months and months since I've made it. It doesn't quite agree with your father's stomach anymore.”

I gave her a smile and dug into the mound of pasta she'd piled onto my plate. The instant the food hit my mouth, I was in ecstasy. As I chewed, I felt my eyes roll back into my head involuntarily and had to physically restrain myself from making sounds better suited to the bedroom than my mother's kitchen.

“This is amazing,” I said. “I haven't had a meal this good in I don't know how long.”

My mother smiled. “Maybe if you came around a little more often...”

Though she sounded like she was joking, I could see in her eyes that there was a kernel of truth to what she was saying. I could have made a million excuses about being a business owner and not having much time for myself, and they all would have been valid.

But in that moment, in that house, overcome by a wave of nostalgia and regret, I decided that it was time to be open. Honest. If there was any chance of bridging the gap that existed between my parents and I, now was the time to actually start talking.

“Honestly,” I started slowly, “I didn't think dad wanted me around.”

My mother cocked her head. “Why would you think that, dear?”

I looked at her, my expression inscrutable. “You're kidding me, right?”

She pursed her lips and went over to the refrigerator, pouring herself a glass of wine before taking a seat at the counter next to me.

“A little liquid fortification, huh?” I asked.

She shrugged. “A little lubrication for the vocal cords.”

There was something happening in that kitchen – something that hadn't happened in a long time. Maybe like me, she'd decided it was time. Maybe she'd had a glass of wine or two too many. Whatever the reason, my mother and I were having a real discussion – an open, honest dialogue. My heart swelled to the point I thought it was going to burst, and I felt the tears shimmering in my eyes.

“Your father,” she started, “loves you. He loves you more than anything.”

“He barely talks to me, mom,” I said. “Barely acknowledges my presence.”

She took a sip of her wine. “That doesn't mean he doesn't love you, Paige,” she said. “That just means he doesn't know how to communicate with you. Trust me, I've known him for a lot longer than you, and that man doesn't know how to open up and talk.”

I looked at her evenly. “He made a living doing nothing but talking.”

She laughed slightly. “You of all people know there is a difference between speaking to a jury and speaking to those who matter the most to you.”

That, I had to admit, was true. I could talk forever to a jury, laying out all of the facts of a case, and never feel uncomfortable in the least. Speaking to somebody I cared about was a different animal entirely, because those I cared about had feelings. And when you involved feelings, things got real, and people got hurt.

It had taken a lot of time – and no small amount of therapy – for me to be able to at least begin to learn to open up to those I cared about. I still wasn't an expert at it, but I was a lot better than I used to be, and I was still light years ahead of where my father was.

“I just get the feeling that he's so disappointed in me,” I said. “That I'm a failure in his eyes because I stopped practicing law and opened my club.”

She shook her head. “He doesn't think you're a failure, sweetheart.”

“Then what is it?” I asked. “He clearly couldn't be any less supportive – or happy, mind you – about my club.”

She took another sip of her wine. “It's not that he's not happy, he just doesn't understand.”

“What's to understand?” I asked. “I'm following my heart. I'm doing what makes me happy and what makes me feel whole and fulfilled.”

She nodded. “It's not that he doesn't want you to be happy, Paige,” she said. “It's not that he doesn't want you to feel whole or fulfilled–”

“No? Then what is it, mom?” I asked, feeling my anger beginning to surge. “Because from where I'm sitting, how he's made me feel, that's exactly what I think. That's how he's made me feel.”

She sighed, and I saw the sadness in her face. “This is where his inability to communicate effectively comes into play.”

“What do you mean?”

“It's not that he isn't happy for you, dear,” she said, and took a quick sip of her wine. “It's that he's a little heartbroken.”

I looked at her, a sense of confusion sweeping through me. “What do you mean? Heartbroken about what?”

My mother drained the last of her wine and looked back at the refrigerator as if she were considering going back for another glass. Instead, she set the glass down on the counter with a soft clink and looked at me. I had no idea what she was talking about and felt utterly confused.

“Your father had a grand dream,” she said, “that you and he would open a law firm together. He was putting that into motion when you told us you were walking away from law to open your club. It devastated him, honey.”

I sat back, stunned and unsure of what to say. I hadn't known any of this before and wasn't quite sure how to process it all. Was that why my father had been so cold and distant from me? Not because he saw me as a failure, but because he'd had his heart broken?

Opening a law firm with my dad. That was a new one on me. I wished he'd talked to me about it before putting any sort of plan into motion. I wished he'd given me the chance to share my own thoughts and feelings about it with him. I could have told him where my head – not to mention, my heart – were at. Maybe we could have avoided some of this. Maybe we could have avoided the rift in our relationship altogether, if only he'd talked to me.

“He never told me any of this,” I said softly.

“Of course he didn't,” she said. “Because he's an old fool who can't open up and speak to those who matter the most to him. He can be a prideful, stubborn, pigheaded SOB sometimes. You know this.”

I nodded. I, especially, knew that to be true.

“The truth is,” my mother went on, “I miss you, Paige. I miss having you around. And believe it or not, so does your father. He just doesn't know how to open his mouth and say it.”

I sighed and took a long gulp of the wine in the glass before me. It was a lot to take in and a lot to process. Knowing that my father's upset and disappointment were not in me personally, but in the fact that he'd never realize a dream he had because I'd gone my own way changed things.

It changed things quite a bit.

I just didn't know what I was going to do with all of that information. I drained the last of my wine and stifled a yawn. It had been a long, emotionally exhausting few days, and I was beat. I was looking forward to crawling into bed and getting some sleep.

“You look tired,” my mother observed.

“I haven't been sleeping well lately.”

“I can see that something is troubling you, Paige,” she said. “And I want to hear all about what's on your mind. But right now, I think we can both use some sleep.”

I nodded. “I agree,” I said. “Maybe I'll be able to talk to you a little more coherently after I've slept a bit.”

She started to grab my plate, and I put my hand on her arm, stopping her. “I got these,” I said. “Go get some sleep. Thank you for dinner.”

She gave me a smile and gently squeezed my hand. “You get some sleep too, dear,” she said and then looked me in the eye, her expression serious. “I'm glad you're here, Paige.”

I gave her a smile. “I am too.”

My mother smiled at me before turning and walking off down the hall toward her bedroom. I rinsed off my plate and put it in the dishwasher. I turned and shut off the lights before walking out of the kitchen and down the hall toward the guest room where I'd be staying.

As I passed my father's study, I saw the light on under the door, heard Vivaldi playing softly, and smelled the smoke from his pipe. I briefly considered knocking on the door and going in to talk to him. But tonight probably wasn't the right night. I needed some rest and to get my head in order before I had that conversation with him.

Stifling another yawn, I continued on down the hallway toward the guest room to do just that.

Chapter Seven: Baz

“I wish the news was better, my lord,” Tarkonil said.

“Don't call me that,” I said. “I'm nobody's lord. I'm simply Baz.”

“I'm sorry, my lo–” he started, and then cut himself off when I raised an eyebrow at him.

Tarkonil had arrived with the sun that morning. It had been earlier in the day than I'd been expecting, but I was glad for it. I wanted to hear what his news was. But even more than that, I wanted to get my ship repaired as quickly as possible, for I had come to an important decision. It was one that was obvious to me now, but I was just having trouble seeing it up to that point.

It seemed that my emotions had indeed clouded my better judgment and thinking, and I couldn't allow that to continue.

“Tarkonil has brought with him, all that is necessary to repair the ship,” Anjol said.

“Excellent,” I replied. “And how long will the repairs take?”

“A day or two at most,” Anjol replied. “It will take that long for my bionetic systems to regenerate.”

I nodded my head. “Make the repairs as quickly as possible, Anjol.”

“They will be completed with all due haste.”

Turning back to Tarkonil, I nodded. “Thank you for making the journey and coming to my aid,” I said. “I am in your debt.”

“You owe me nothing,” he replied. “I'm happy to assist when I can.”

I nodded and gave him a small smile. Good men like Tarkonil were hard to come by.

“Walk with me,” I said.

We walked through the forest, leaving Anjol to care for the ship. I followed a trail I'd walked before through the forest. It ended at a bluff that overlooked what Anjol's research identified as the Pacific Ocean. I'd stood upon that bluff for many hours just admiring the view. Like much else I'd encountered, it was so very familiar and yet so utterly alien to me. It was breathtaking.

We stood upon the bluff, buffeted by a cool ocean breeze. The mid-morning sun sparkled off of the ocean, turning it into a vast pool of liquid gold. Far below us, waves thundered against the rocks. It was sound that was soothing and comforting to me.

“It is good you came when you did,” I said. “I realize now that my time here has clouded my thinking. I know now that I must continue on. I must learn to not allow myself to get so involved in the affairs of other species.”

“I can see why you are so charmed with this planet,” Tarkonil said. “It is not without its appeal.”

Images of Paige flashed through my mind and drew a small smile from me. But I quickly banished those thoughts. She was part of the reason that my thinking has been so clouded. Not that it was her fault. It was mine. As an explorer, it is my duty and my responsibility to remain detached and observant. I failed to do that. So if there is fault to assign, it belonged to me.

“What is your news from Optorio?” I asked.

Tarkonil sighed heavily. “Your brother has seized control,” he said. “He has assumed the throne and banished the regent council.”

I nodded, not surprised by the news. “I had assumed as much,” I said. “How did this happen? Why did the Royal Guard not intervene?”

“Your brother executed two members of the council, I'm afraid,” he replied. “After that, the rest of the council lost their taste for rule and bent their knee to him.”

I closed my eyes and turned my face up into the sun. It was so warm, so calm, and so soothing. It was hard to quantify, but the sun just felt different here on Earth than it did on Optorio. It only added to the appeal of this world.

“I suppose all things considered, it could have been worse,” I said. “I feared that my departure would end in civil war.”

Tarkonil looked at me, his expression grim. “It still might, my lord,” he said. “You are not without your supporters still. And your brother is not without those opposed to him.”

“That is no longer my fight, Tarkonil,” I said. “I abdicated my throne. I have no claim to it. I've never been fit for the throne. It's not where my heart, is and that lack of passion for it will ensure that I am a terrible ruler.”

Tarkonil turned and looked at the horizon. “Many do not share your opinion of you,” he said, “including most of the council.”

“The council that has bent the knee to Kapoc,” I observed.

A rueful smile touched his lips. “Return to Optorio with me, and you will see how quickly they un-bend that knee.”

“And bring violence and bloodshed to our people,” I said. “Civil war is not what I want for Optorio or for our people.”

“Perhaps not, but under your brother, many will die terrible deaths regardless of your wishes.”

I wished I could refute his words, but I knew I couldn't. Kapoc was a tyrant and a brutal despot. He would bring war and death upon the people of Optorio. I had hoped that, between the council and the Guard, they could put him down and quell any uprisings. I had hoped that they could do what I could not – kill my brother.

I had been wrong and foolish to believe they could. I had been selfish and cowardly, but it was not my fight. I had cast my lot and could not go back now. Mostly because I did not want to.

“What can I do, Tarkonil?” I asked, knowing what his answer was going to be.

“Return to Optorio,” he said, as expected. “Lead the Guard and depose your brother. Have him executed, and then you'll be free to explore whatever galaxy your heart desires.”

“Why can a new leader not emerge without me?” I asked. “Why not you? You would make a very fine leader of the people.”

Tarkonil shook his head and laughed, a dry and brittle sound. “I am no leader.”

“Merely because you doubt yourself,” I replied. “You could lead Optorio far better than Kapoc and far better than me. You could do amazing things if you sat upon the throne.”

Tarkonil gave a smile but was not swayed. “I'm no leader, Baz,” he said. “I do not aspire to be. But you – you were born and raised for the role.”

“A role I've never wanted.”

It was obvious that Tarkonil's real mission in coming to my aid was to convince me to return to Optorio. Perhaps the remnants of the council had ordered him to do so. And if that were the case, I was afraid that he would have to return to our home world empty handed. I had no more intention of going back to Optorio than I did of staying on Earth.

I looked at my longtime friend and offered him a smile. “I have one final command for you, Tarkonil,” I said. “When you return to Optorio, I wish for you to inform what remains of the council that I am endorsing your claim to the throne. My desire is for you to lead our people.”

“But there is no way–”

I held up my hand to cut off his objections. “That is my desire,” I said. “And the final word I will say on the subject. I believe in you and your ability to lead. And believe you will lead Optorio to a prosperity it has not had in many years.”

Tarkonil looked down at the ground, but I could see the expression on his face. It told me that he was feeling pleased, terrified, and overwhelmed all at the same time. But what I'd said was true. Tarkonil could be a great leader of our people. He just needed to learn to believe in himself.

Tarkonil looked up at me, his expression serious once more. “There is more I must tell you.”

I nodded. “Speak.”

“Your brother has learned of your affection for the human woman,” he said. “His spies and assassins got word to him before you dispatched them.”

I sighed. That was bad. Really bad. And the last thing I wanted. Paige already had enough to deal with without having to worry about my brother's assassins bearing down on her.

“And what does he plan to do with this information?” I asked.

“From what I've learned, he intends to kill her,” Tarkonil said. “My understanding is that it is his belief that by killing her, he will take the fight out of you, which would leave you more vulnerable to his assassins and make you easier to kill.”

I felt my heart racing as worry flooded my body. It was one thing to have Kapoc gunning for me. It was something else entirely to have him coming after Paige.

“Has he already dispatched his assassins?” I asked.

Tarkonil shrugged. “That, I do not know.”

I nodded. I had no idea where Paige was. Anjol confirmed she was no longer in Sapphire Bay, but he could not confirm where she'd gone. I could neither warn nor protect her, even if she would have allowed it. On the other hand, the fact that I did not know where she was meant that neither would Kapoc or his assassins.

I needed to find her and warn her. It was likely only a matter of time before they figured out who and where she was. I needed to get to her first.

I had been intending to get off this planet and throw myself out amongst the stars again as soon as I possibly could, but this had thrown a wrench into the plan. I could not leave – not right now. I had to find Paige and protect her from my brother's hired killers.

“It would appear that I am not going anywhere for a little while,” I said. “At least, not until I find Paige.”

“If you go to her, you run the risk of leading them to her,” Tarkonil said.

“If I don't go to her, I run the risk of them killing her.”

Tarkonil looked at me, his expression one of open curiosity. “You really do care for this human, don't you?”

I nodded. “It was never my intention,” I replied. “But yes. Yes, I do.”

Tarkonil looked conflicted. On one hand, he wanted to get me back to Optorio as quickly as possible to head off a civil war. On the other hand, I could tell that part of him wanted to let me go save Paige. Plus, he was finally beginning to understand that I would not be going back to Optorio under any circumstances.

“Go to her,” he said. “Save her.”

I gave him a smile and clapped him on the shoulder. I handed him the key to my room in the lodging facility and explained how it all worked. He took the key and gave me a brief nod.

“Do what you have to do,” he said.

“I intend to.”

As I turned and walked back down the forest path, the sound of the ocean faded into the background. This was not what I wanted, nor what I'd intended. I'd hoped that my ship would be repaired so that I could continue on my journey.

But fate, it seemed, had a different and contrary plan for me. I had to save Paige from my brother's assassins.

With a sigh and as fear-fueled adrenaline rushed through my body, I walked back down the forest path. I needed to find Paige, and I needed to find her quickly.

Both of our lives very likely depended upon it.

Book Three – Danger

Chapter One: Paige

My parents lived on a large plot of land surrounded by soaring pine trees and not much else. At times, it felt like you were in the middle of nowhere and you were the only person on some isolated island. And I liked that. Right now, I needed that. Their nearest neighbor actually wasn't all that far away, but it wasn't like they were right up in your face. From the backyard, you couldn't see anyone else, just my parents' house, the pine trees, and endless vistas of sky and clouds. It was perfect.

Mom woke up bright and early as usual to run some errands, dragging dad along with her. She left a note letting me know they had gone into town to look at some new light fixtures, even though I saw nothing wrong with the current ones.

Sometimes, it felt like my mom kept my dad working on things around the house just keep him from growing bored or getting depressed. My dad was the type who always needed to be working on something. The type that needed to feel useful and productive. At one time, it had been his career that kept him going. But now that he was retired, it was the house.

A lot had changed since the last time I'd been home – including the garden in the back. My mom used to garden here and there. Nothing big. A few tomato vines, and some herbs. Now, she was practically her own farmer's market. Dad, with likely nothing else to do, had apparently taken an interest in her gardening, and instead of sectioning off a part of the backyard for a small vegetable garden, he'd built a massive greenhouse for her back there. She'd gone crazy with it. The greenhouse was filled with fruits, vegetables, and even some flowers.

Better Homes and Gardens had nothing on my parents.

I walked into the greenhouse and was surprised to find a several bright, pink roses. My dad never had hobbies before. He'd never had time for them since he was always too busy with this or that case. He was always working. When he was home, he was either in his study preparing a case or sleeping for a few hours before getting up and doing it all over again.

Now, for the first time in his life, he had time to garden and renovate the house. So that’s what he did, and he did it to the extreme. Though, I was sure mom had put him up to a lot of that. Either because she wanted the changes or just to keep him busy and occupied – I couldn't say which.

Thinking about my parents reminded me of the conversation I'd had with my mom the night before. My dad was retired now, but had I stayed in law, would we be partners? Would my dad still be working hard – with me at his side working equally as hard? Would we both be so busy working that we weren't actually living?

The thought of having no time for the activities I loved – music, singing, socializing – killed me. To imagine my whole life like that, to only have time for hobbies once I'd grown old and had given up my career, was a depressing thought.

And yet, my dad had done just that. For so many years, he'd worked and had avoided anything that he might have loved or enjoyed. He was too busy for anything else. Hobbies were frivolous and were nothing more than things the lazy indulged in. That was his attitude. And he'd wanted nothing more than for his daughter than to follow along in his footsteps. Because, to him, that was the logical step.

I tried to be just like him because I'd looked up to him. I'd tried to be just like him for so long while my heart cried out for something more fulfilling that would nourish my soul. For so long, I'd ignored those cries and focused on becoming every bit the powerhouse attorney my father was. After all, I was trying to live up to his legend.

But as a child, all I saw were the good things. Time with my father wasn't as plentiful as I would have liked, so any time we did spend together, I spent watching him. I was curious about what he was working on and was fascinated by his passion. I so badly wanted to feel as passionate about my life as he did his.

Finally, I realized that law wasn't it for me. It felt logical at the time. When I was little, I wanted to be like my dad. And I was like my dad in a lot of ways. And I was really good at it. I supposed that all those years immersed in law because of my father had rubbed off on me. I'd learned a lot of things by watching him. Practicing law was just the next logical, natural progression in my life.

It felt safe.

I stared down at the perfect, pink rose before me and smiled. Leaning forward, I closed my eyes as I took in the brilliant scent of the flower. My mother might have helped out, but these flowers – these were all him. He'd grown them with the same meticulous care he'd put into his career. And they were something of beauty. What threw me was that they served no purpose other than to be beautiful. It was illogical for my father to spend his time on something that he merely enjoyed doing. Something he took pride in simply because it made him happy. Something that had no pragmatic purpose.

As I stared at the rose, I wondered why on earth had it taken him so long to indulge in those things he enjoyed and that made him feel somehow fulfilled. Imagine the life he could have led had he realized that sooner – all the beautiful things he could have made, the fun times he could have had. But instead, he'd spent most of his years focused on playing it safe, on being logical and useful.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw something fly overhead. Probably a plane, I thought to myself. Or maybe it was a helicopter. It moved fast, however, and seemed larger than a helicopter and too low to the ground to be a plane. More curious was the fact that it was quiet. Maybe I'd been caught up in my head, but I hadn't heard a plane or a helicopter go by.

I shrugged and tried to push those thoughts away because they reminded me of what happened the other day with Baz.

A voice inside my head told me, Face it, Paige. There are things in this world that defy logic. And that doesn't make them bad. Just like the rose, not everything has to be logical.

I sighed. My heart was wanting to look past all the craziness, because there was something about Baz that made him impossible to forget. I'd think about his face or hear his voice in my thoughts, and my insides would get all warm and fuzzy. I couldn't help but smile when his name came up in my thoughts, but then I'd remember what I'd seen and totally lose those feelings, at least for a little while.

My feelings for Baz were complex. He was unlike anybody I'd ever met before, and I knew it would be so easy to let myself go and fall for him. He had so many amazing qualities and things I liked about him. I enjoyed his company and thought that he was a good man – for someone who wasn't technically a man. But I knew that I couldn't let myself go. I could not give my emotions free rein. It was too dangerous in so many ways.

How could I come to terms with all of that? How could I reconcile my feelings with facts? He's an alien. I wanted to deny it and write him off as a delusional whack job. But I knew what I'd seen. And I had no earthly explanation for it. I'd never believed in aliens, much less thought they might be walking among us, but I'd seen what I saw with my own two eyes.

Whatever happened – the blue blood coming out of those men, the fight – none of that made a bit of sense. It defied logic. If I were to apply the theory of Occam's razor to the situation, I'd have to conclude that Baz wasn't lying, that he really was an alien and those two men he killed were, in fact, alien assassins sent to kill him.

Damn it. I groaned and rubbed my temples, trying to stave off the headache that was coming on. Why did dating have to be so complicated? Though I think finding out that your suitor is an alien goes above and beyond just being complicated.

It was downright crazy. And yet, there we were.

Chapter Two: Baz

The Mahogany Tavern was as lively, but there was something missing. I felt it, but judging by the laughing, smiling faces around me, I was the only one. It just didn't feel the same to me. There wasn't as much energy tonight as there had been previously. The music, as always, was good, and I immersed myself in it. But as I sat alone in a booth and watched the performer on stage, I knew that without Paige there, this bar would never feel the same for me again.

I sipped a concoction of sorts that burned my throat and grimaced. I still did not understand why these humans were so fascinated with these painful and disgusting beverages. I'd merely ordered what the guy next to me had ordered – a bourbon on the rocks. But as I inspected the glass, I realized that there were no rocks to be found.

These humans, I thought to myself, shaking my head.

Anjol, of course, took the opportunity to give me a history lesson, “Bourbon is a distilled spirit–”

I finished the sentence for him, “That tastes like fire burning your throat as it goes down?”

“It's quite potent, yes. The rocks refer to the ice–”

“Listen, Anjol, does it look like I care about that right now? I have more important things to worry about at the moment. Like Finding Paige. Do you know where I might be able to find her?”

“Are you still sure you should find her, Baz? Because honestly, I worry you're overreacting and your impulses aren't based in sound logic. The human woman specifically asked you to stay away. So to go looking for her now would go against her very wishes.”

“True, but I doubt she wants to end up dead.”

Anjol was quiet and didn't seem to have an answer to that. That's the problem with machines – even bionetic-based computer systems like Anjol. He could help keep me logical and present me with an array of facts all designed to help me keep my emotions out of the way, but he had no concept of life or death, or of love. He had been created, not born. And he died when I died – in a way. His program lived on long after I died.

Even if it didn't, he didn't hold the same emotional attachments to his life the way I did. I had reason to believe humans felt the same way about their lives. Though incredibly advanced, bionetic-based systems like Anjol did not have the capacity to understand emotion. That was not their purpose. Even though Optorions were famous for their logic and pragmatism, we still had emotions.

Without a tracking device, there was no way to know where she went, though. So even if I'd wanted to find her and save her, I realized that I might not be able to.

I took another drink of the awful liquid, cringing as it went down. I pushed the glass out of reach to avoid taking another sip. It wasn't a pleasant experience, and I didn't want to force myself to continue it. My head felt a little funny – a sensation that I hadn't felt before coming to Earth. Anjol had warned me that these drinks could do that to me. He also warned me to avoid them as they were toxic to the liver and then gave me an array of statistics about disease and death associated with these spirits. But considering the fact that I didn't have a human liver – and wasn't consuming it in very large quantities – I figured I'd be just fine.

I considered it all part of my research of this species. Getting to know their habits, social or otherwise. Anjol didn't seem to agree, but I wasn't planning on drinking any more of this bourbon anyway. I didn't believe in torturing myself without good reason.

I got the feeling I was being watched, and when I scanned the room, I saw that someone was indeed staring at me. Someone I recognized.

Josie. She was friends with Paige and very well might know where I could find her.

“I would warn against that, Baz,” Anjol said.

I didn't listen. I didn't have to wait too long to talk to Josie, because before I could walk toward her, she came over to me, swishing her hips and walking in a way that made most of the human males in the room stop and watch her.

She stopped at my table and smiled down at me.

“May I have a seat?”

“I don't believe it's my seat to give away,” I said. “They belong to the club. Is that not correct?”

She gave me an odd look as Anjol quickly explained the meaning behind the phrase. I cleared my throat and looked at her before laughing and trying to play it off.

“Sorry,” I said. “My sense of humor is a little odd sometimes. Yes, please, feel free to sit down.”

Josie sat across from me and stared at me in silence for a few seconds. The way she stared at me unnerved me a bit. It was like she was trying to figure something out. Like maybe she was trying to read my mind. Humans couldn't do that – could they?

Anjol responded quickly. “No, Baz. Humans are incapable of reading minds. At least most of them, it appears. Some claim to have this ability, but it's deeply contested and I can't find any real proof.”

“What's going on with you and Paige?” Josie asked, interrupting Anjol's voice in my head and confirming what he'd told me. No, she couldn't read minds. Otherwise she wouldn't be asking me such a question. “I mean, how serious are you about her?”

“Serious? I take her very seriously,” I said, and Anjol explained what the phrase meant. “I like your friend very much, and I can honestly say she's unlike any woman I've ever met before. I'm just worried about her.”

Josie ran a hand through her hair and laughed. “Aren't we all.”

“Why are you worried about her?” I asked. “Has she given you reason to worry?”

Josie looked at me again, this time as if she was trying to come to a decision in her head. She was deep in thought, and the silence hung in the air for a little longer than I was comfortable with. Finally, she spoke.

“If I tell you this, you have to promise me it won't get back to Paige, okay? And know that I'm only telling you because I think you're good for her. That, and I know my best friend well enough to know she's probably trying to push you away right about now.”

“Yes, she is, as you say, pushing me away right now. In fact, she's asked me to avoid contact with her for a little while,” I said. “How did you know?”

“Because Paige is Paige, and she's a stubborn woman who always pushes men away before it gets too serious. You know that means she likes you, right? Because once she starts having feelings for a man, that's when she runs away.”

I was not sure about the feelings part of that equation, but seeing me kill two alien assassins directly in front of her could probably have the same effect. But I knew I couldn't let Josie know about that part.

“Do you know where she's at, Josie?” I asked. “I really need to find her and speak to her.”

Josie sighed, not meeting my gaze for a moment. Finally, she said, “Yeah, I do. But hear me out first, Baz. You have to know a few things about my best friend before I'll let you go to her. You need to understand where she's coming from.”

“Okay,” I said, feeling like the clock was ticking. I needed to get to Paige quickly, but I couldn't argue with Josie or risk alienating her. She could prove a very useful ally. “Go on.”

Josie sighed and then nodded to herself, as if to provide herself with some encouragement. Or perhaps she was trying to convince herself that she was doing the right thing.

“Paige was in an abusive relationship not all that long ago,” she said. “Her ex, Shane, wasn't really physical abusive, but it was getting there. He just – well, he was always manipulating her. He was always lying to her and treating her like shit. He cheated on her left and right. He had a nasty habit of treating her like trash, but giving her just enough kindness to keep her hanging there on a string before he tore her apart again.”

I leaned back in my seat and tried to process all that she was telling me – as well as having Anjol fill in the blanks on many of the colloquialisms Josie was using.

Josie spoke softly, and as she paused, she looked down at my drink and asked, “Are you going to finish that?”

“No, you are more than welcome to this,” I said.

Josie took a long, hard swig as if she was drinking water. Humans. They never ceased to amaze me with the most ridiculous of talents.

“I'll pay for you to get a new drink,” she said. “What would you like?”

“I'm fine. I need to be leaving soon anyway to find Paige.”

Josie nodded, wiping her lips with a napkin before continuing. “Paige has always had problems with trusting people. Her folks haven't been much better, but she's trying to fix things with them, I think. She's trying to stop pushing people away and maybe learn to love and trust again, which is why she's there. It's where she always went when Shane and her fought. Despite her problems with her folks, it was her safe place. It's where she grew up.”

Her parents' house. “Do you know how I can find her parents' home, Josie?”

“I have an address.”

“That would be incredibly helpful,” I said, knowing that Anjol could use the address to locate the house and direct me there. “How far is it from here?”

“Not that far, but listen to me, Baz. When you go to her, you need to be honest. Any sign of a lie or half-truth will send her running for the hills,” she said. “You can't lie to this woman. She will smell it from a mile away, and it's a sin she'll never be able to forgive. If you care for her, you need to be totally and completely honest with her. Can you do that?”

I nodded. “I believe that I can. Yes.”

If she believes what I have to say. I didn't want to lie to her, but how could I tell her who I really was? There was no way for me to do that without sounding like – to use human parlance – a lunatic. Now she knew the truth of it all, but if what Josie said was right, would Paige be able to forgive me? Would she be willing to give me a second chance? Or was my 'sin' unforgivable to her?

I sighed. It probably didn't matter in the end. I was not chasing after her to reunite and beg for forgiveness. Forgiveness would be nice, yes, but I wanted to keep her alive. That was the most important thing to me right now.

Keep her alive first. Then, maybe, I could hope for forgiveness.

Chapter Three

She was in a place known as Big Sur, California, which was about an hour and a half from Sapphire Bay. That was where I would find Paige. I couldn't walk there, and without my ship, there was no way I could fly.

So how would I travel that distance?

I stood outside the Mahogany Tavern and stared at the cars lining the street. I needed one of them.

“According to their code of law, grand theft auto is a jailable offense on Earth, and I'm afraid your diplomatic immunity won't help you here, Baz.”

Maybe not, I thought to myself with a smile. But I'll only go to jail if I get caught. And that won't happen, Anjol. We won't let it happen.

“Are you asking me to help you break the law of this land, Baz?”

“Human laws, Anjol. These are human laws and we're not human. So technically, we're not breaking the law at all.”

Anjol didn't seem entirely convinced, but there wasn't much he could do. He was still in my brain and still had to follow my orders or risk being shut down.

“Fine,” he huffed. “But please, let's find a car that someone won't miss for a while, which should give you a chance to get out of town before the local authorities are called.”

“Good idea. But how would I do that?”

“The house at 3221 Whitaker Ave belongs to a Dr. Howard Jenkins, a cosmetic surgeon. His office hours are eight in the morning until five in the afternoon tomorrow, so it is highly probable that he is at home and in bed right about now, given the human penchant for sleep. Check for lights and use your thermal imaging to confirm. But if so, that should give us enough time to get to Big Sur before he realizes that his car is missing.”

“Anjol, for someone who doesn't like breaking the law, you seem to have some skill with it.”

Whitaker Avenue was just one street over from the Mahogany Tavern. An easy walk. The house was large, set back from the street and the entire neighborhood was dark. People were in bed, ready to be at work bright and early the next day. I used my thermal imaging to confirm that this Dr. Howard Jenkins was in bed. Circadian rhythm charting told me that he was in deep REM sleep. Perfect.

As Anjol directed me to the vehicle, he also helped me unlock it.

“Modern cars on Earth have keyless entry and start systems,” Anjol explained. “I just need to override their system – and there we are.”

The car started and was surprisingly quiet. I was still standing outside, but I could hear the engine purring. It was a beautiful car – it was called a Tesla. It looked sleeker than most of the other the cars on the street and seemed to have been built using more advanced technology.

“Are you going to admire the car all day or actually drive it, Baz?”

“But how, Anjol? How does one drive a car?”

“First of all, you need to get in the driver's seat, just like you would your ship.”

“Ahhh right. Yes.”

I climbed into the car, and the seat adjusted for me automatically – likely thanks to Anjol. The steering wheel was a comfortable distance away, and my feet were lined up to the pedals of this transport.

“The one on your right is the accelerator. The one of the left is the brake. Push on the gas to go faster…No, Baz, wait until we put the car in gear first.”

The engine roared to life when I pressed the pedal, but we hadn't moved.

“Thankfully so,” Anjol said, “or you wouldn't be on your way to Big Sur. You and this vehicle would be in that family's living room.”

Anjol directed me to put the car into reverse and to press lightly on the gas. Of course, lightly is a matter of perception, and there was a lot of room for error when you were only conversing with someone in your head.

“Shit!” I cried out, turning to look behind me. Using human slur words was new to me, but this felt like the appropriate time to try one out as we were moving very fast in a backwards direction.

“BRAKE, Baz! The pedal on the left!”

I pressed down on the brake, making the car stop faster than we'd gotten going.

“So that's how this works? Okay, I think I got it.”

I could hear Anjol protesting that thought, but he continued guiding me. We pulled out of the long, narrow driveway and onto the main street. Anjol explained that I needed to stay in my lane – and then explained the concept of lanes to me. We drove slowly down the road until lights shined brightly through the window behind me. A loud sound caused me to jump and nearly run not just out of my lane, but off of the road entirely.

“He's honking at you,” Anjol said. “Likely, for going too slow. To use a human colloquialism, you are driving like a little old lady.”

I pressed down on the gas a little harder, and my heart raced. It wasn't an unpleasant feeling. It was actually something of an adrenaline rush like none other as I took off down the highway, leaving the car with the loud horn far behind us.

Chapter Four

Now what? I asked myself as I stared at the house where Paige was staying.

It was quiet and dark, but there was a soft glow in the front window. The light was still on and someone was moving around. I couldn't tell who it was, but I had an idea it was Paige. Or at least, I hoped it was Paige.

With no sign of space ships or any of my brother's pet assassins, it was safe to assume they hadn't arrived yet, which gave me time to talk to her about what was happening – and perhaps, what had happened already.

Not having any other plan in place, I realized the only option I had was to knock on the front door. Paige would not be pleased with me, I had no doubt about that. But I had to get to her. I had to warn her and keep her safe. If anything happened to her because of me...

Walking up to the front door, I found that I was more nervous about approaching Paige than I was about driving a strange, new vehicle or even facing my brother. It wasn't a life-or-death fear, but a fear of something else – something painful, but not exactly deadly. Something I'd never felt before.

“Rejection,” Anjol answered for me. “You're afraid of rejection.”

“Rejection?” I asked myself.

“Yes, it's a fear that Paige will refuse to talk to you–”

“I know what it means, Anjol. It's just new to me, I guess. I've never feared being rejected by anyone before, for any reason.”

“No, you haven't Baz. That's why I'm explaining it to you, so you understand.”

“Thank you,” I answered, unable to keep the sarcasm from dripping off my tongue, “because reminding me that she could reject me is making this a whole lot easier.”

“You're welcome.” I sometimes forgot that sarcasm was often lost on Anjol.

I stood in the doorway, peering through the window. I saw Paige sitting on the couch, watching something on the television. A bowl was sitting on the table in front of her.

Well, here goes nothing, I thought to myself.

I cleared my throat and knocked lightly. I knew it was late, and I had no desire to wake her parents or anyone else who might be in the house. I watched as Paige jumped up from the couch, looking around the room as if she wasn't sure where the sound had come from. Afraid she'd catch me peeking in the window – something Anjol reminded me was considered stalking and entirely inappropriate – I stepped back and knocked again.

The door opened just a crack, and I saw Paige's large eyes staring back at me.

“Baz,” she said opening the door further, her eyes widening. “What are you doing here? How in the hell did you find me?”

I had sworn to keep Josie's confidence and would not go back on my word. But that meant lying – something I was not happy about, nor comfortable with. But I had no choice.

“Anjol,” I said. “My bionetic computer system. He can find things.”

It was a lame answer, and I cringed as I'd said it. I was just hopeful that she didn't press it and accepted the advanced technology line. She looked behind her as if afraid there was someone back there. She was wearing a pink tank top and striped pajama bottoms. Her hair was pulled back and her face was free of makeup, but in that moment, she was more beautiful than I'd ever seen her before.

“What are you doing here so late?”

“I needed to speak with you, Paige,” I said, unable to look at her. Because when I looked at her, I wanted to touch her, for she was a thing of pure beauty, and I knew that wouldn't be acceptable.

When I finally brought myself up to meet her gaze, she was smiling ever so slightly. But as soon as our eyes met, she pushed the smile away and looked behind her again.

“My parents are sleeping Baz–”