Rogue Alien's Woman
Page 11
“I wouldn’t be any safer in the fleet,” she felt the need to point out, even as his other statements flayed her alive. “And if it weren’t for the work I did, the fleet would be flying blind.” He made it all sound so sordid, and not a necessary part of any defense apparatus.
Her father sucked in a deep breath and Sierra had to look away, staring at a still photograph her father had taken at some fancy event with an alien with bright yellow skin and sharp teeth. They’d had this fight a hundred times before and the only sure thing about it was that both of them would be left hurting and resentful by the time the night was over. “I’m—” she cut herself off before the apology could flit across her tongue. That was the problem. She wasn’t sorry.
“Sneaking behind enemy lines, lying to people. It’s not honor—” he, too, choked on his words.
Sierra still flinched. It’s not honorable. Yeah, she’d heard that one plenty of times too. This had to end now. If they spoke for any longer, it would lead to more months of silence and shitty tempers.
She placed her napkin on the table and scooted her chair back. “Thanks for dinner. I’ll give you a call when I get back and we can do this again.” Emotion lodged in her throat and she swallowed it, unwilling to break in front of this man.
“Back?” her father demanded, throwing his own napkin down. “Where are you going?”
“A mission. Classified. Dishonorable stuff, you wouldn’t want to hear about it anyway.” Her eyes itched and if she didn’t get out of there in the next minute she’d end up crying. Sierra didn’t cry in front of her father, not ever. That was even worse than dishonor, that was weakness.
“Erra—” he tried to stop her with her old childhood nickname. Sierra didn’t even pause as she scooped up her jacket from where she’d laid it on the back of his couch. She made her way through the narrow hallway of his quarters and to the front door.
Something that might have been regret danced in his eyes as he met her at the door. “Be safe,” he finally said, grabbing her in a tight hug and yanking her close. “Come back in one piece, I still need a date to the reception for Ambassador Yormas of Wreet.”
Sierra squeezed her eyes shut, but when she opened them again, her eyelashes were wet. Her dad said nothing. “I’ll give you a call,” she promised, not ready to agree to anything when her emotions were so raw.
He just nodded and let her go.
The hallway outside of his apartment was the same boring gray as the walls inside her father’s quarters. He shared the floor with three other units, but she saw no one as she made her way down the faded carpet to the stairwell beside the elevator. She took the stairs at a fast clip, as if speed were enough to outrun everything on her mind and in her heart. She hated disappointing her father. He’d saved her from a short, hard life of unspeakable cruelty and darkness. She doubted she would have made it to twenty-nine if he hadn’t adopted her. But Sierra had long ago realized that being grateful for her existence didn’t mean she owed her dad her entire future.
He saw it all for her: officer training, command, rank. Everything he’d doggedly pursued for his entire life. The only life he could conceive of. She’d taken one look at the training manuals and run screaming. Sierra was no stranger to discipline. How could she be when her father was General Remington Alvarez? But if she made that life hers, she’d be extinguishing herself. And as much as she loved her dad, she couldn’t do it.
He’d give her that derisive laugh of his if he knew she thought that way. How, he’d ask, could she be more true to herself as a spy than as a soldier?
She didn’t have the answer, but he wouldn’t care to hear it even if she did.
Her vehicle was located in the parking garage under his building. Sierra scanned the area, noting the android attendant near the entrance and a flickering light near where she’d parked. Awareness prickled at the back of her neck and her muscles loosened, her stride long and confident as she waited for the threat to make itself known.
A cat darted out from a dark corner and Sierra’s blaster was out, her finger on the trigger before she even registered the movement. When the animal jumped on top of her vehicle, she laughed and put her weapon away. She needed a damn vacation.
But vacation was the last thing she had to look forward to, not when planetary defense had to come first. Sierra gave the cat a gentle pet and then shooed it on its way before sliding into the car. As soon as she was on the road, her communicator lit up. She engaged the call without video and didn’t bother to glance at the identification to see who was calling. Anyone who had her code wouldn’t call if it wasn’t an emergency.
“Joyce is calling us in,” her friend and navigator, Mindy Branch said in lieu of a greeting.
“Right now?” A glance at the clock showed it wasn’t even close to midnight, let alone their 0500 call time.
“Yeah, Jo’s already on her way.” Mindy sounded about as pleased with that turn of events as Sierra was, but neither voiced their concerns.
“I’ll be there in an hour.”
“Got it. Drive safe.” She disengaged and the communication’s display went dim.
Sierra sent a silent prayer of thanks to anyone who was listening and turned her car around to head to the rendezvous point. She needed to get the fuck off of Earth to remember why it was worth saving in the first place.
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