My favorite time of day had become the sunset. I’d always been an afternoon person more than anything else, mainly because sunshine filled me with a contentedness I coveted. But sunset was when the salon closed for the day, and I was free to pack up my things, check my hair one last time, and bound off to the palace to be with Venan.

The hues of rose and gold were streaking the sky as I worked on flattening the flyaway hairs on Edie’s head that evening, and I was starting to feel the familiar palpitations of excitement in my chest. My eagerness didn’t escape the discerning eye of the ever-vigilant Edie, and she smiled smugly at me through the mirror.

“You’re going to see him after you’re done with me, aren’t you?” she teased.

I tucked a loose strand beneath the others. “Is it that obvious?”

“Yes. You’re pretty much levitating a foot off the ground.”

I actually looked down as if expecting to see a foot of space between the soles of my shoes and the hard clay floor of the salon. When I looked back up to return to her hair, she was knowingly beaming.

“Don’t you get excited when you know you’re going to see Eric?” I asked. It felt strange on my tongue to say his name, and it felt stranger to associate his name with his face. I’d grown so used to thinking of him as nothing more than Edie’s Corporal that I sometimes had to do a double-take and remember who I was talking about before I realized I hadn’t mistaken him for someone else.

“Yeah, but we’re past the point of floating on air,” she answered.

Hearing that made me feel a little sorry for her. I knew comfort in a relationship was a milestone every couple reached at some point, but I couldn’t imagine being anything less than irritatingly dreamy whenever I knew I was going to see Venan no matter how deep into the relationship we were. It was very easy for me to picture myself in fifty years with glowing cheeks and dancing eyes as I waited for him to come home from a long day of Elder work. Every human relationship I’d had was exactly like Edie was describing: the magic and mystery waned into comfort and security, and seeing that person’s face became a given from a gift. Maybe Venan and I would reach that point someday, but today and every day in the foreseeable future was one of girlish thrill with the knowledge I would soon taste his kiss.

The salon door banged open without warning, and both Edie and I jumped in surprise. An A’li-uud strode in purposefully, her arms held rigidly at her sides and her hands clenched into balls. I started to tell her we were closed for the day and I was just finishing up my last client when I noticed the definition of her cheekbones and angle of her eyes.

It was Ola, Venan’s sister.

I had no idea what I was supposed to feel toward her. Venan had made it clear he regarded her with revulsion, and it was my understanding Zuran would have killed her long ago if he hadn’t given up his criminal ways. She had never done anything to harm or offend me, of course, and I was frankly of the opinion that her adulterous transgression was hardly a reason for her entire family to disown her without a second thought. However, my loyalty to Venan made me question whether I was supposed to harbor a distaste for her despite having never exchanged a word.

For the moment, I decided on politeness. “I’m sorry, but we’re closed,” I told her. “We’ve got plenty of time for walk-ins tomorrow, though.”

“Tell me about your relationship with Elder Venan.” The command was so blunt and so unexpected I had to second-guess whether her English was too choppy to comprehend properly. It wasn’t, of course.

Edie was watching my interaction with Ola through the mirror, and I could feel her critically curious gaze on me. I knew she was dying to know if I knew this A’li-uud and everything that went along with it: who she was, how I knew her, why she came into the salon. The minute Ola left, Edie was going to be on me like white on rice, and I was probably going to end up an hour late to the palace.

“I—” There wasn’t enough time to process Ola’s demand and theorize the reasons for her asking. A courteous avoidance seemed like the safest response. “I’ll be happy to discuss that with you somewhere else another time, but this is where I work, and I’m with a client right now.”

“Does he love you?” she drilled. That question could have been asked a hundred different ways for a hundred different reasons—excited gossip, envious longing, tearful misery—but it sounded nothing short of sinister coming out of the female alien’s mouth. I was starting to grow wary of her. Something didn’t feel right about her combative stance and her probing stare and her aggressive tone. Feeling discomfort around someone was one thing, but it was something else completely for the hairs on the back of my neck to stand up in a particular person’s presence.

“I really don’t think this is the time or the place to talk about this,” I said curtly. “Now, if you wouldn’t mind, I’m with a cl—”

A horrible, head-splitting shriek erupted from her skinny throat, and I didn’t realize she’d charged me until I was thrown into the air and came crashing down on top of a supplies cart. Pain splintered my nerves throughout my entire body. I heard clattering and shouts of a scuffle, but I was too dazed to get back on my feet and could only imagine Edie had leaped from the chair to ward off Ola. They were visually evenly matched because, though Edie was almost a foot shorter than the average human and Ola almost a foot taller, the A’li-uud was disturbingly thin without a whisper of the muscle tone that could be seen on every other A’li-uud I’d ever met. Unfortunately, the fair fight ended there. Venan had told me enough for me to know Ola was relatively well-trained as a youth in the art of combat and had learned the dirtier tricks of fighting after she reached adulthood. Edie, on the other hand, was quick and scrappy but far from a solid contender.

I heard a smash and a high-pitched, “Agh!” A split second later, Ola’s face appeared above mine. She took me by the throat and pulled me upright, my limbs pulsing in protest, and she threw me in the direction of the door. My ankles twisted around each other, and I stumbled to the ground.

A wild cry suddenly assaulted my eardrums, and I recognized it to be Edie. Rolling over onto my back, I saw my petite, spunky friend leap on Ola’s back from behind and begin clawing manically at the female’s face. Ola bellowed in anger and pain, and, with surprising grace, she ran fluidly backward to the wall, smashing Edie against the clay. Edie crumpled to the ground with a yelp, and Ola leaped across the salon to me again. She snagged a handful of my hair and used it as leverage to lift me to my feet. My scalp burned with the force of her pull, and I ignored the stabbing pain in my legs as I jumped up in an effort to trade one pain for another.

Edie was clambering shakily to her feet again, but Ola yanked my head back by my hair, and I felt cool metal against my throat.

“I will spill her at your feet,” she spat.

Edie froze, her knees still bent a fraction. She looked terrified. I tried to soothe her with my eyes because panicking would be the worst possible thing to do right now.

“Do. Not. Move,” Ola ordered.

“I won’t,” Edie gasped. “Just…let her go.”

Ola cackled and started walking backward, dragging me along with her. The blade on my neck didn’t lift, but my jerking steps caused it to dig uncomfortably into my flesh. When we reached the salon door, I was whipped around without warning, and Ola wrenched me into the blossoming night.