by Sue Lyndon
“Um, Michael and I had another fight.” She blinked rapidly, trying to hold back the tears. “His drinking has gotten worse. I-I tried to kick him out, but he wouldn’t leave, so I packed some bags and left.” She’d recently confided in Fiona that they were having marriage troubles, but she hadn’t been completely honest about how bad things had gotten.
Fiona walked close and enveloped Layla in a tight hug. “I’m so sorry. You can stay here as long as you like.” She pulled away from Layla and looked her up and down. “Did he hurt you?” Though Layla had never told Fiona about the time Michael had slapped her, there was no doubt that her friend suspected as much.
“He-he grabbed me and scared me,” Layla admitted. “I tried to tell him to get help and he got mad.” She set down her suitcases, feeling like an orphan of sorts.
Betsy had been sold into slavery on the Kall homeworld, and all of Layla’s other friends and acquaintances had been killed or scattered during the war.
Furthermore, her entire family was gone, even Aunt Colleen, and now her husband—the only family she had left—had gone off the deep end.
She had no one but Fiona.
Two hovering servants rushed forward to grab the suitcases and carry them off, presumably to a guest room upstairs. Compassion shone in Fiona’s blue eyes as she ushered Layla toward one of the many opulent sitting rooms.
“Come with me,” Fiona said. “You look like you could use a drink.”
“I wouldn’t turn down some strong Kall wine,” Layla said, hoping the robust spirits would help calm her nerves.
Though she’d escaped the apartment unscathed, the fright she’d felt during the confrontation with Michael lingered, and her hands were still shaking.
She settled onto a plush sofa as Fiona quickly poured her a glass of Kall wine and then handed it over. She accepted the drink with a brief smile before taking a long sip. Almost immediately, warmth filled her, and her quivering lessened somewhat. Say what you will about the Kall, but nobody made wine quite so deliciously intoxicating, not even the Trutussians, whose main interplanetary export was spirits.
Fiona sat next to Layla and shot her a concerned look. “I suspected things with Michael were a lot worse than you were letting on. I promise you’ll be safe here. Merokk’s security guards won’t allow Michael to come near you.”
“I appreciate your help. You-you’re the only person I could turn to.” I’m so alone. I’ve lost everyone else. She took another large swallow of wine.
“The servants will have a room ready for you soon, I am sure,” Fiona said. “As I said, you are welcome to stay as long as you want.”
“Thank you. Um, how’s your mother?” Layla asked, looking around and wondering if the older woman would make an appearance.
“She’s doing well. She sleeps a lot though and she’s resting right now. I can’t tell you how wonderful it is to have her with me again. Merokk is terribly sweet to her, too. He’s taken to calling her ‘Mother Janie’ and she absolutely loves it.” Fiona smiled.
“I’m glad to hear it. I was so scared for you the day Merokk discovered you weren’t actually the First Daughter,” Layla said, trying not to frown as she thought about Betsy, who’d been betrothed to Merokk—until she ran off and created a crisis in which the US government had scrambled to find a lookalike to replace Betsy without the Kall aliens discovering the switch.
Two American officials had spotted Fiona—who could easily pass for Betsy Carson’s twin—in a refugee camp in New York, and so Fiona had pretended to be the First Daughter and married Ambassador Merokk in Betsy’s place, in exchange for her mother receiving medical care in a private facility.
Eventually, the truth had come out, but Merokk had still wished to keep Fiona as his wife, as they’d fallen in love. Layla’s throat tightened with emotion at the memory. Merokk had even brought Fiona’s mother, Janie, home to live with them. A happy ending, if ever Layla had seen one.
An uncertain look crossed Fiona’s face as she turned to Layla. “Speaking of the First Daughter, I actually have some news about Betsy that I was planning to tell you today. But don’t worry—it’s good news. At least, I think it is.”
“What is it?” Layla crouched on the edge of her seat, desperate for any news about the dear friend she would likely never see again. Humans were no longer welcome on planet Kall as tourists, and even if they were, she would never be permitted to visit a human slave.
“Merokk saw her name on a list of recent marriage licenses that were dispensed in Sumlin District on planet Kall, which is the district where Betsy was sold as a slave. Apparently, she ended up marrying her master—a Kall commander by the name of Edek. I don’t know any other details, only that the marriage license was approved in a special council session and they wed the very day the license was issued.”
Disbelief swirled through Layla. Oh my God. Her heart leapt a moment later, because she knew enough about Kall culture to realize the lengths Commander Edek must’ve gone to in order to secure permission to marry Betsy, his human slave. Such marriages were extremely rare on planet Kall.
“This is… shocking news,” Layla said after a long pause, during which she tried to gather her thoughts. “But I think you’re right—it must be good news. Perhaps they fell in love.” Oh, please let it be true. Happy tears brimmed in her eyes and she blinked rapidly, but she soon gave up the fight and wiped at her cheeks as she sniffled.
Fiona grinned and briefly placed a hand on Layla’s knee. “Merrok explained to me how unusual such a marriage is and said he suspects the commander must have feelings for Betsy if he went to the trouble of calling for a special council session. He also said the commander probably had to either threaten or bribe the council in order to get the license.”
“Do you think Merokk could pass a message to Commander Edek for me, that Edek might pass along to Betsy?”
Mischief glinted in Fiona’s eyes. “I have already asked Merokk and the answer is yes. Once Merokk gets home, he can help you send the message on his interplanetary communicator. He should be back home tonight just before dinnertime.”
Relief and joy mingled in Layla’s chest. Her entire life was crumbling around her, but knowing Betsy was likely faring well on planet Kall filled her with hope.
“Thank you, Fiona. You and Merokk have become wonderful friends to me. I am grateful for you both.” Even though Merokk could be standoffish at times, he’d always treated her with kindness and never prevented her from seeing Fiona, even though Layla had had a hand in deceiving him all those months ago when he’d believed he was marrying Betsy.
“I’m grateful for our friendship too,” Fiona said, rising to her feet. She glanced behind her at the door. “If you’ll just excuse me quickly, I’m going to inform our Head of Security, Rentzaq, that you are staying with us and Michael should be considered an unwelcome guest if he shows up. I’ll be right back.”
“Of course, and thank you.” Guilt settled upon Layla as she watched her friend depart the room. She was touched that Fiona was protecting her from Michael, but she felt terrible that she wasn’t confessing the whole truth—that Michael might be involved with the human rebels who sought to overthrow the Kall.
It was just some flyers. He could’ve found them on the street.
She prayed he wasn’t truly involved with the doomed cause.
When Fiona returned a few minutes later, her face was drawn in lines of worry. She rushed into the room, closing the door behind her, and hurried to sit beside Layla. She tucked her auburn hair behind her ears in a nervous manner.
“What’s wrong?” Layla asked.
“Rentzaq just told me some terrible news. Before I informed him that we were no longer heading out to the café, he told me that it wasn’t safe to venture out today. Apparently, a Kall female was murdered on the street not far from here by a human man. I’m afraid I don’t know any further details. I don’t even know if the man was caught. The Kall female was the wife of General Zamek.”
Horror washed through Layla. The rebels. Oh God, what if it was the rebels?
What if it was…
She gave her head a slight shake, not allowing herself to complete the thought.
I know my purpose.
Michael’s words came back to her now and her blood ran cold.
But when she’d left the apartment, he had been sleeping. He was probably still sleeping. Another human man who hated the Kall must’ve done it. Someone who was in deep with the rebels. Not Michael.
Please please please don’t let it be Michael.
Chapter 2
General Zamek stared at Shessema’s lifeless body. His wife. Grief consumed him, as well as the unyielding need for vengeance. He stepped forward and placed a kiss upon her cold forehead.
How could she be gone?
She was so young, so innocent, and she’d had her whole life ahead of her.
His throat burned.
“I will find the ummkka who did this to you, wife,” he promised, “and I will make them suffer.” Video images had been captured of the human male who’d killed her, and it was only a matter of time before he was spotted again on a surveillance camera. Kall authorities were under orders to contact Zamek the moment they got a lead.
He straightened and continued gazing down at Shessema. They’d been married for but nine moon cycles. She was his second wife, and he could scarcely fathom that he’d been widowed yet again. Had the ancient gods cursed him?
A thick black sheet covered her body, concealing her wounds. He drew the cover down to get a better look, even though the sight made him sick to his stomach. He took note of each stab wound, resolving to make the human male who’d killed her suffer tenfold this amount.
Shessema. I’m sorry.
The words clogged in his throat. He should’ve been there to protect her. He should’ve known the area where they lived still wasn’t safe enough to enjoy a walk during the daytime.
As the post-war reconstruction efforts in DC had gotten underway, he had permitted her to walk to and from a nearby park, where she liked to gather with other Kall wives who’d come to Earth—wives of commanders and generals and ambassadors.
Fluxx. But it hadn’t been safe, even though Kall forces maintained a heavy presence on the streets. He ought to have hired a personal guard for her. Guilt ravaged him. Heartache pierced straight to his soul.
He covered Shessema back up and took several steps away, his hands clenching into fists. His wrist comm buzzed several times. When he finally checked the message, rage swelled within him.
SUSPECT HUMAN MICHAEL DENNIS FOUND DEAD
No. No no no.
A growl ripped from Zamek’s throat.
How cruel were the ancient gods, that he would be denied his revenge?
“I’m sorry, Shessema,” he said. “I am so sorry.” He said a prayer for her soul before finally departing the morgue. He would take her body back to planet Kall and bury her on the mountainside near their home.
In a daze, he walked the darkened streets, to the house on the outskirts of DC that he’d briefly shared with his new wife.
Knowing that he would likely stay on Earth for several moon cycles, even once the humans surrendered, he had opted to bring Shessema with him. Many high-ranking officers in the Kall army had brought their wives and children with them. Unable to bear parting with her, he had done the same, believing that she would be safe, believing that the humans’ inferior weapons would pose no threat even while the battle still raged.
But now she was gone, her life taken by a dishonorable human male. A male Zamek couldn’t even torture since he was already dead.
He arrived home to find Ambassador Merokk waiting on his doorstep. The former Kall commander looked subdued and nodded deeply in Zamek’s direction.
“General Zamek, I am very sorry for your loss, and I am also sorry that the human scum who took your wife’s life has died before you could exact your vengeance, as is your right.” Merokk, who was an old friend of Zamek’s, stood underneath the porchlights.
“Do you know how Michael Dennis died? Did someone else kill him?”
“I regret to inform you that he took his own life. His body was found in a river not far from here. A surveillance video was discovered that showed him jumping off a bridge and into the water.” Merokk frowned and shook his head. “Every Kall I’ve spoken to is deeply shocked by the events of today. We had no idea anyone involved in the rebel cause would strike out at one of our females. It was a cowardly act.” The ambassador looked as though he wanted to say more but was holding back.
“What else do you know?” Zamek demanded, coming face to face with his friend. At this hour, there was no one else on the street. Their conversation would remain private.
“May I come in?” Merokk asked. “I have more information, but I also have a favor to ask of you, General.”
Zamek scoffed. “A favor? I’ve just lost my wife to a murderous human and you wish to ask a favor of me? Have you no honor?”
“It is honor that has brought me to your doorstep,” Merokk replied. “Please, let us talk inside. I will explain everything.”
With a growl of frustration, Zamek entered the code to unlock his door, then he burst inside and gestured for Merokk to follow. If any other male had shown up on his doorstep, he would have sent them away. But Merokk had saved his life in battle once, over ten years ago in the war against the Terussaks, and Zamek could not rightfully turn his trusted comrade away. Zamek was also curious about Merokk’s presence here and wished to learn the information the former warrior possessed.
Once they reached the sitting room, Zamek went straight for the liquor, even passing the strong Kall wine he usually favored. He poured himself a generous glass and lifted it to his lips, downing the contents in one quick but large swallow. He refilled his glass and finally turned to face Merokk.
“What? What information do you have, Ambassador? You claim honor has brought you to my doorstep, but you are remaining infuriatingly silent and if you do not speak soon, I will throw you out on the street.”
“Michael Dennis had a wife.”
Bloodlust surged through Zamek. He emitted a growl of satisfaction as dark, savage impulses rose within him. The murderer had a wife, someone else who might quench his need for vengeance. “This is fortunate news,” he replied, contemplating a hundred different ways he might make the human female suffer before eventually granting her the merciful release of death.
Yet Merokk appeared displeased by the news he’d just delivered. In fact, worry glinted in his dark gaze.
“I suspect the Custom of Retribution will be followed, as it normally is in cases like this, however, until a judge officially grants you retribution rights, this female will remain in my home and under my protection.”
Fury blazed through Zamek. What could possess Ambassador Merokk to protect the human wife of Shessema’s murderer? He tossed his glass against the wall and the strong scent of liquor permeated the room. “What is your meaning here? Give me one reason why I shouldn’t drive a sword through your heart and then retrieve this human female from your home myself?”
“I know you are angry and grieving, old friend, but you mustn’t act in haste, and I ask you to hear me out. Layla Remington—the human wife of Michael Dennis—is a close friend of my wife’s. During the last year, I have come to know Layla as a respectable female.”
Zamek shook his head and snorted. “So, you expect me to spare Layla’s life just because she is friends with Fiona? How can you come to my home, on the very day of my wife’s death, and make such a request? If you were in my position, I believe you wouldn’t hesitate to seek your own justice.”
“I am deeply sorry for what happened to Shessema. Truly, I am. But killing an innocent female, human or otherwise, is not true justice. The Custom of Retribution is an outdated law that ought to be overturned.”
Dark suspicion swept through Zamek. Fists clenched at his sides, he stepped closer to Merokk, posturing himself as i
f ready to fight. Shessema was gone. A human man had murdered her—a human man who’d likely been in league with the rebels—and Merokk had the nerve to beg for the life of this human man’s wife? A low growl rumbled from Zamek’s throat as his muscles tensed. A haze of red clouded his vision.
“Innocent? You think this Layla female is innocent? She likely knew her husband was involved with the rebels, and that knowledge makes her as good as an accomplice.”
“On my honor as a Kall warrior, General Zamek, I swear to you that Layla is an innocent soul. While I didn’t know Shessema well, I doubt she would wish for you to slake your bloodlust on a blameless female. Layla is terrified at this moment and she’s expressed remorse over your wife’s death. Though she doesn’t know you, she is saddened by your loss and she is also horrified by her late husband’s actions.”
“Get out,” Zamek hissed. “Get out before I cut you down where you stand.”
Merokk released a long breath and finally turned to face the door. He took a few steps away before pausing. Turning to meet Zamek’s gaze, he appeared as if he wished to say more, but he eventually proceeded out into the corridor. A short time later, Zamek heard the slamming of the front door.
Shessema. Her name kept repeating in his mind and the heaviness of his sorrow pushed him to his knees. His lungs constricted to the point that each breath became painful and difficult. A crushing darkness fell over him. His entire body trembled.
No no no. It can’t be true.
He closed his eyes, willing this whole day to be a nightmare. But when he opened his eyes, he was still there, crouched on the floor, all alone in his home. All alone because Shessema wasn’t here, and she wasn’t coming back.
He spotted a book she’d been reading, sitting on a side table. He rose to his feet and approached the book, his fingers tingling with the need to touch it. He picked it up and realized it was a book of classic Kall poetry, written ages ago by a renowned Holy One. A tome filled with flowery words and hopeful phrases. His throat burned as he flipped through the book, discovering that the corners of some pages were folded over.
