Spy Nobek Selt is getting too emotionally invested in his subject Blythe Nelson.
* * * *
Nobek Selt caught himself clenching his fists. He forced them open, spreading them wide and choking off the growl rising in his throat.
The head speaker of Earth II’s General Assembly had one of those faces. Haughty, made for sneering. His muddy eyes had a bulging aspect. No amount of whatever Cal Mitchell wore to keep his graying hair from budging from its perfect coif or his expensive tailored suits or his luxurious office could hide the fact he was a self-satisfied asshole of an Earthtique.
Or maybe it was just Selt who saw him as such. Presumably, Mitchell had some good qualities. His office, boasting pricey artwork on its walls and fine furnishings, attested to his success. He was leading his opponents in the polls. He had a wife and six kids, so his lifemate must have found something redeeming about him.
Ancestors, someone had sex with this guy. On multiple occasions. Since he was phased and no one could witness him do so, Selt shuddered.
The human’s gruff tone was condescending as he rocked slowly in his hover chair behind his behemoth of a desk. “Of course you find doing your job difficult, Miss Nelson. You’re only, what, twenty-two? Twenty-three?”
The object of his derision, standing on the other side of the desk, spoke in a clipped voice. “Twenty-eight, Speaker Mitchell.”
Which he knew, if he’d deemed Blythe Nelson important enough to research. Mitchell was thorough when it came to such things. Then again, he might have determined due to her age and the fact she was female, Blythe wasn’t worth investigating beyond a blatant assessment of her trim figure.
Blythe was no doubt aware of how she was regarded by the man Selt believed to be the worst of the Earthtiques, aside from terrorist-hiring Ken Bryant. To Mitchell, she was no more than a young, pretty woman. Therefore, she was a creature to simultaneously desire and revile.
Don’t defend yourself to him, Selt silently urged her. Don’t do him the honor of making his opinion important.
Her temper…or something else…had been woken, however. “The records of original Earth, for the most part, are lost. No amount of digging can uncover what no longer exists, Mr. Speaker. What I have managed to find is pass-protected and—”
“What you’ve managed to find is very little. I’m sure you did your best. Still, I can hardly pay you for a few sentences of guesswork. I’ll contact a couple of your colleagues, ask what experienced men can discover. Thank you and good day, Miss Nelson.” Mitchell waved her out of his office, his gesture negligent.
Blythe’s pixie face reddened. She turned on her low, pointed heel and marched through the door.
Selt scowled at Mitchell and hurried in her wake. He would have loved to hang around to keep an eye on the speaker and catch him doing something underhanded, but as far as the spy division knew, Mitchell was clean. An unmitigated asshole of an Earthtique, but he’d done nothing to warrant them watching him beyond his contacts with Bryant.
Yet.
Selt’s long stride kept up easily with the petite news reporter who had a penchant for digging into the histories of government officials. It was her uncanny ability to find dirt on the currently powerful which had brought her to the attention of Admiral Piras and his chief agent on Earth, Head Operative Kuran. They were interested in the information she’d uncovered, rather than Blythe herself.
She wove among the aides and representatives of the General Assembly. Traffic was heavy, thanks to everyone trying to escape for a lunch hour of peace. Despite the crowd and Blythe’s tiny stature, she was noted. Scowls erupted on faces.
Selt gave her credit. Blythe asked the legislators the most pointed questions of the journalists. She wasn’t afraid to chase after her quarry while shouting questions at the top of her lungs, a vid drone flying ahead to grab footage of whomever had attracted her well-honed sense for a story. It amused Selt to note how many powerful men and women hunched their shoulders and hurried past Blythe to avoid her.
The lovely reporter ignored them for a change. Her goal seemed to consist of escaping the General Assembly building as fast as possible. Her impish, heart-shaped face was set, her gaze pointed toward the exit.
She reached the outdoors and fairly ran down the steps. Barely two minutes later, she was at the visitors’ stretch of shuttle pads. She was soon boarding her small vessel, and Selt entered it behind her.
No sooner had the hatch closed, lending her what she believed to be utter privacy, when she burst into tears.
“Ah, fuck. Please don’t,” Selt groaned.
“Sorry shithead-asshole-motherfucker!” she screamed at no one. “Lousy fuckwad!”
At least she was crying from anger and not because her feelings had been hurt. It made it less painful to watch. Selt settled in a seat behind the pilot’s chair and gazed at her as she bawled and vented an impressive array of curse words.
He wondered if it was too late to beg Admiral Piras to allow him to return to the spyship duty he’d left to take the job on Earth.
It wasn’t that his current work was overwhelmingly personal. He had opportunities he’d enjoyed little of on board a fleet craft. On Earth, he could see his opponents up close. Could confront them. Interrogate them. Hurt them, if they deserved it, as the bastards who’d attempted to kill the governor and bomb the orbiting space station had. His enemies were no longer faceless foes he was forced to attack from a safe distance, like a pathetic coward.
His clanmates Deram and Hadlez still served on the spyship Selt had been transferred from. They’d recently been in danger, which had him second-guessing his decision to accept his current assignment without debate. He belonged at their sides, guarding them no matter how worthless he’d begun feeling his previous duty had been. If he couldn’t keep them safe, then he was fine dying trying to.
His current task wasn’t helping matters. Watching his subject be treated like shit on a regular basis, often merely because she was a woman, drained his soul. Seeing her cry, even only as a release from the terrific fury he’d learned she was capable of, strained him to the breaking point.
Blythe was an assignment, nothing more. Nonetheless, a throb of protectiveness tempted Selt to storm to Mitchell’s office and slap some decency in him. Standing by while she was insulted to the point of tears had him feeling useless again.
“Sometimes I hate this job,” Blythe snarled as she stopped crying. She took out her handheld and had it bring up a holo-mirror to check her makeup.
“Me too,” Selt said.
* * * *
Releases in five days! Pre-order now: Amazon, Amazon UK, Nook, Smashwords, Kobo, Apple, print
Time
is running out to halt the Darks’ march to the Kalquorian Empire’s
annihilation.
Finally home on Kalquor, Dramok Ilid is haunted by his encounter with the Darks, which he barely survived. His struggle far from over, Ilid’s sanity and the empire’s existence hang on a quickly unraveling thread. When he learns the Darks have arrived on Kalquor, even his family’s love may not be able to keep him from an unthinkable end.
On Earth II, head of planetary security Nobek Kuran’s hands are full: meeting his potential in-laws, training his replacement, and keeping tabs on a rogue lieutenant governor with a secret agenda. His troubles are only beginning when a deadly attack on those he loves drives him to the brink of murder. Meanwhile, spy Nobek Selt finds himself growing far too close to his subject, reporter Blythe Nelson. Does his clan dare to romance a woman devoted to uncovering the truth, including their secret activities on her world?
Having wiped out the entire Bi’is civilization, the Darks have seized control of the Galactic Council of Planets and attempt to bring the Kalquorian Empire to its knees. Clans Tranis and Piras are desperate to stop the enemy from destroying Kalquor and its allies. Can Hope Nath and Chief Engineer Lokmi capture a lethal enemy capable of passing through all known barriers?
Releasing January 26
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