3. Bruticus

CHAPTER 3

brUTICUS

T he neon signs of the upper levels paint Maryse's hair in shifting colors. My fingers twitch at my side, wanting to touch those copper strands. The hunger for Daniels' blood dims with each smile she throws my way.

"Keep up, slowpoke."

Her delicate hand wraps around mine. The contact sends electricity through my spine, and I nearly stumble. Her skin is so soft against my calloused palm.

"Half-breed scum," a passerby mutters.

The slur barely registers. All I can focus on is how her thumb traces circles on my wrist.

"This way." She tugs me through the crowd. "Best noodles in the sector."

The wealthy citizens of Alpha Centauri part around us like water around a stone. Their designer clothes and augmented features mark them as elite as surely as my bone spurs mark me as other. Their whispers follow us down the promenade.

"What's she doing with one of them?"

"Disgusting."

"Security should keep their kind below."

Maryse's grip tightens.

"Almost there."

The warmth of her touch spreads up my arm, settles in my chest. For the first time in years, the rage that's driven me across the stars feels distant, muted. Her presence fills spaces I didn't know were empty.

She glances back, green eyes sparkling. My breath catches. The vengeance that's consumed me seems to matter less with each passing moment.

Marble columns stretch toward a domed ceiling painted with constellations I've never seen. The floors gleam like mirrors, reflecting the crystal chandeliers above. My boots leave marks on the polished surface.

"Miss Daniels, welcome back." The hostess bows, her augmented eyes scanning over me. "Your usual table?"

"Please."

Daniels? No, it has to be a coincidence…Daniels is a very common human surname. I sifted through thousands of them in order to come this far.

The other patrons stare as we pass. A Reaper in Valabar's must be quite the sight. Their silverware clinks against plates that cost more than I make in a month.

Our table overlooks the spaceport through floor-to-ceiling windows. Ships drift past like metallic fish in an endless sea of stars. A luxury cruiser catches the station's artificial sunlight, its hull blazing gold.

"The view is incredible." The words slip out before I can stop them.

"Wait until sunset. The light hits the ships just right."

A waiter approaches, his chrome-plated hands holding menus that shimmer with holographic text.

"Would you mind if I ordered for us both? The chef here makes the most amazing fusion dishes."

Her smile melts any objection I might have had. I nod, not trusting my voice.

"We'll have the Sea's Bounty." She hands back the menus. "And a bottle of the '47 Centaurian Red."

"Excellent choice, Miss Daniels."

The waiter disappears, leaving me alone with Maryse and that devastating smile. My mother's voice echoes in my head, warning me about beautiful things that shine too bright. But for now, I let myself be blinded.

"So what brings you to Alpha Centauri?" Maryse leans forward, chin resting on her palm.

"Work." The lie tastes bitter. "I move between stations. Security consulting."

"A mercenary with manners. That's different."

The wine arrives, deep crimson catching the light. Perfect cover for my discomfort.

"What kind of ships have you worked on?"

"Merchant vessels mostly. Some private security." My fingers trace the stem of the wine glass. "Protection details."

"Must be exciting."

"Not as exciting as engineering. Tell me more about your studies."

Her eyes light up.

"You want to hear about hydroponics?"

"Please."

The technical terms flow over me like water. Her passion shines through every word, hands dancing as she describes growth cycles and atmospheric processors. The tension in my shoulders eases.

"Sorry, I'm babbling."

"No, keep going. Your voice..." Heat creeps up my neck.

"My voice?" She blinks those perfect eyes and I want to melt into a puddle.

"It's nice. Soothing."

Her cheeks flush pink.

"What about your voice? Where'd you pick up that accent?"

"Here and there. Spent time on different ships." The wine loosens my tongue. "The Dreadmoon had quite the diverse crew-"

The fork slips from her fingers, clattering against fine China. Heads turn. Whispers ripple through the restaurant.

Her face drains of color.

"The Dreadmoon? The pirate vessel?"

The word 'pirate' seems to echo in the sudden silence. I've said too much.

"My past has... complicated parts." I lean back, studying the wine's depths. "Some I'm proud of. Others, not so much."

The lie slides easier than expected. Not that piracy shames me - those raids kept food on many tables. But something in those green eyes makes me want to be better. Or at least appear that way.

She could lead me straight to Daniels. That's what I tell myself as I watch her delicate fingers wrap around the stem of her glass. Pure strategy. Nothing to do with how the light catches her hair or the way her lips curve when she smiles.

"We all have chapters we'd rather not read aloud." Her hand inches closer to mine on the tablecloth. "The past is just that - past."

The tension drains from her shoulders. Other diners return to their meals, the moment forgotten.

"When you know better, you do better."

The simple wisdom of her words strikes deeper than any blade. Here I am, plotting revenge while she offers understanding without question. My mother would have liked her - sharp mind hiding behind that gentle exterior.

The thought should hurt. Instead, warmth blooms in my chest as Maryse's fingers brush mine.

"Have you seen the Firefont yet?" Maryse traces the rim of her wineglass.

"The what?"

Her eyes widen, lips parting in shock. "You haven't heard of the Firefont? Oh, you absolutely have to see it."

The eagerness in her voice draws a smile from me. Her enthusiasm sparkles brighter than the wine.

"What is it?"

"It's..." She waves her hands, searching for words. "You just have to experience it. Let me show you after dinner?"

My chest tightens. Every moment spent with her delays my vengeance. Mother's face flashes in my mind - bloodied, broken. The weight of my mission settles back on my shoulders.

"I should probably-"

"It's right in the Station Core. Next to the administrative offices."

My breath catches. Daniels' office. The target I've hunted across three systems sits mere meters from this supposed wonder.

"The Core, you say?"

"Mm-hmm. So what do you say?" Her smile could outshine stars.

"I'd love to see it."

The words come easily. Just reconnaissance, I tell myself. A chance to scout the area, nothing more. Her presence is merely convenient cover.

The maglev train glides through transparent tubes, offering a breathtaking view of Alpha Centauri station. Below us, countless levels stretch into the artificial horizon. Above, the vast dome of reinforced plasteel reveals the star-studded expanse of space.

"Look there." Maryse points to a cluster of ships. "That's the merchant district."

Her shoulder brushes mine as she leans across me to get a better view. The scent of her perfume makes my head swim.

The Core looms ahead, a towering spire of gleaming metal and glass. My target waits somewhere in those upper floors. The thought should fire my blood with anticipation, but Maryse's presence dampens the fury to mere embers.

"Almost there." Her fingers find mine again.

The Firefont's glow bathes the observation deck in crimson light. A column of liquid fire erupts from the central pool, arcing a hundred feet into the air before cascading back down. The heat kisses my face even through the containment field.

"Amazing, right?" Maryse's eyes reflect the molten display. "The magnetic fields contain the plasma, keeping it in a perfect cycle. The temperature has to be maintained within point-zero-three degrees or the whole system destabilizes."

Her hands dance through the air as she explains the intricate balance of forces. The technical terms wash over me, but her enthusiasm is infectious.

"Have you ever seen anything more beautiful?" she asks.

"Yes." The word escapes before I can stop it. "She is standing right beside me."

Her mouth falls open at my words, and my heart stutters. Too forward. Too honest. I brace for rejection, for the disgust that humans always show when faced with my kind's advances.

But then - a smile. She bites her lower lip, and the gesture sends heat coursing through my veins.

"Thanks." The word comes out soft, almost shy.

But her eyes... Those emerald depths burn with something far from innocent. The fire there calls to the predator in my blood, awakens instincts I've kept chained since leaving the Dreadmoon.

Could I match that intensity? Handle the passion barely contained behind her proper facade? The bone spurs along my arms itch, responding to her unspoken challenge.

The plasma fountain pulses behind us, its rhythmic surge matching my quickening pulse. I want to discover every secret hiding behind those flame-bright eyes. Want to learn what makes that fire burn hotter.

A surge of tourists floods the observation deck, their excited chatter breaking our moment. Maryse's hand finds mine again as she guides us through the crowd.

"Let's walk a bit."

The administrative center towers above us - my target, my purpose - but her fingers intertwined with mine scatter my thoughts like stardust. The revenge I've chased across systems feels hollow compared to the warmth of her touch.

"Where are you staying while you're here?"

"I'll find something." My free hand brushes the credit chip in my pocket. "There's bound to be a vacancy somewhere."

"Nonsense." She stops, turning to face me. "I have an empty condo next door to mine. Top level, incredible view."

"The owner-"

"Oh, don't worry." Her wink sets my heart racing. "I know the owner really well. She's me!"

The words hit like a plasma burst. Living next door to her? Every morning, every evening, knowing she's just meters away? The thought sends electricity down my spine.

"I couldn't possibly-"

"I insist." Her thumb traces patterns on my palm. "It's the least I can do after you saved my life."

My mission screams for attention, but it's drowned out by the music of her laugh. How can I focus on death and vengeance with such life and warmth so close?

"Well?" Those green eyes pierce straight through my defenses. "What do you say?"

The answer forms before I can stop it.

"Yes."