by K. T. Flores
Starlight and Candy
K.T. Flores
Jade Publishing
Copyright © 2021 Jade Publishing
All rights reserved.
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.
Cover design by: Mayhem Cover Creations
To all the early morning dreamers and late night workers.
Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Acknowledgement
About The Author
Chapter One
The air tasted like oil. Music, shouts, and laughter trickled into the garage as the night grew darker. Neon lights outside the shop filtered in through one-way skylights. The underworld came alive while the overworld slept.
Gloved hands tried to coax wires into their appropriate connectors, but the hovercar had proven to be stubborn these last few hours.
“Come on, old thing,” Tauri encouraged lovingly. She stroked the underside a few times. “I’m trying to get you back to your father by tomorrow.”
She wiggled to the left beneath the vehicle, breathing a sigh of relief as sparks brushed against her face. She should’ve been wearing her mask, but she’d taken it off to eat dinner as she worked. It had been a long night, but the effort was worth the prize.
Geru had dropped off the hovercar in the early morning. He had promised Tauri both personal and craft clearance identifications in return for fixing his vehicle. She’d be stupid to turn down the offer.
She was hours from being a step closer to freedom.
The engine roared, and she turned her face away in surprise. She tugged the clustered wires, but they stayed in place, fused together by her laser torch.
“Try and fall off again,” she warned them, “and I’ll replace you with newer, shinier ones.”
All that was left was adjusting the four door handles, but that was an easy, cosmetic fix.
She yanked off her gloves and pulled out from under the craft. Taking a moment to gaze at the stars through the haze of the undercity, she reached up and imagined her fingertips a breath away from brushing space.
Soon, Tauri promised herself. We’ll be up there soon.
She hurriedly tossed her tools into their appropriate spaces, unbothered by the loud clanking each made.
The workshop was small but hers. Two walls were lined with cabinets to her waist. They weren’t labeled, but she knew where to find each nut and bolt. Another wall was fully covered in different blueprints she had acquired over the years. Some were obsolete, but she enjoyed engineering history almost as much as she enjoyed fixing things.
The neighborhood children covered the inside and the outside of her sliding doors in paint. She allowed them to decorate as she worked because their laughter and chatter were welcomed white noise. Sometimes they asked her questions, and sometimes they brought her food. Other times they were silent and somber, creating memorials for friends gone too soon. Whenever she spotted the beginnings of a tribute, she would give the kids one of her candles to light. The murals were always maintained until the wick disappeared, and the small flame fizzled out.
Earlier that day, Rhea and Talar had covered her doors in two pairs of hands. One pair cupped a sun while the other cradled a moon. They mirrored one another, a vortex of colors connecting them. Before she could ask what had inspired this, the sisters had run off into the crowded streets.
Tauri loved the colors and the creativity she saw from the kids, but she also enjoyed knowing they had kept out of trouble for at least a few hours when they were preoccupied in her shop.
As she fiddled with the final handle, her doorbell rang. Tauri ignored it with an eyeroll. People outside were always knocking and ringing the bell. Sometimes they’d throw pebbles or debris at the garage. When she'd huffed outside to chide a passerby, they were always apologetic. She knew the shop looked empty, but she loved to work at night. Customers never bothered her, nor did the unit collectors. She could breathe more easily with stars shining on her.
The bell rang again, and frantic knocking echoed through the shop.
“Okay, okay! I’m coming,” Tauri huffed.
She tossed her gloves as she stomped through the small hallway leading to the front door. She yanked it open, ready to snap at whoever was causing a ruckus, but the person rushed in, gripping her hands.
“You’re a mechanic, right?” the newcomer asked hurriedly.
She wasn’t dressed like a normal underworlder. Her choker was studded with gems. Dainty gold chains hung across her shoulder and connected to the golden dress that hugged her curves. Sleek black heels with ribbons laced up to her knees, and the silk of her dress dragged slightly against the floor. Slits up each leg revealed glistening purple skin. Her skin seemed to have specks of sapphire that reflected light with every subtle shift she made.
Curling midnight hair faded to a vibrant violet with gold beads strung throughout the locks. Her high ponytail had become messy, strands sticking up at odd angles. Her glowing, dark blue eyes with slitted pupils were glazed over as they searched the entrance.
Tauri narrowed her eyes. This girl was Dagrian. If the glittering skin wasn’t a dead giveaway, the delicately pointed ears and swooping silver markings across her face were enough.
Tauri tugged her hands away from the sharp nails, trying not to balk at the diamond bracelets and rings on the stranger’s fingers. “Let go. You’ll get dirty from all the grease on me.”
But the stranger shook her head, more hair falling into her face. “I’m already dirty, so it’s fine. You’re a mechanic, right?”
Tauri took a closer look, noticing the splotches across her dress. The rust colors made her stomach cramp uneasily.
“Are… you okay? That looks like blood.”
The stranger gripped her hands tighter. “It’s not mine. Please, are you a mechanic?”
Tauri backed away, but the Dagrian followed, kicking the door shut behind her. The woman towered over her. There were no traces of alcohol on her breath as she neared Tauri’s face, and she was missing all the signs of someone who had taken candy. While she looked frazzled, there was an unmistakable clarity in her gaze.
“I am a mechanic, yes.” Tauri nodded slowly, trying to remember where she had placed her raygun. The nearest one was in her room, but there were doorways and biolocks she would have to get through. This woman would probably squash her before she even finished turning around.
“Then you fix things, right? Do you know how to fix a triterrain racer?”
Tauri swallowed thickly, hoping her voice didn’t waver. Should she kick the Dagrian away? She probably wouldn’t be strong enough, but she could try and use the stranger’s weight against her. But even then, the Dagrian needed to be moving in a way that Tauri would be able to execute the proper maneuver.
“It depends on what terrain and the racer model… Alth
ough if you give me enough time, it wouldn’t matter—”
“I don’t have time.” The woman released a hand to fish through her pocket.
Tauri used her freed limb to tug and pick at the woman’s fingers, but the Dagrian wasn’t bothered, intent on her task. Her eyes lit up as she found what she needed.
She pried Tauri’s captured hand open, shoving papers and metal pieces into it. “My keys. Can I just buy a craft from you instead?”
“I…” Tauri thought of her ancient hoverbike, softly sputtering but sturdy and unwilling to give up. She didn’t want to give her baby away. She’d spent years restoring it, part by part with any extra money she’d accumulated. “Hold on a minute. I don’t want to fix your triterrain. You can’t barge into my shop and my home—”
“I’ll give you two million units. Right now.”
She blanched at the number, head spinning as she counted all the zeros in a million. She didn’t think she’d gotten that many units over the course of her lifetime. “I’m sorry, did you say two million?”
That was more than she needed to get into the stars. Away from the streets of the underworld and the sky lanes of the overworld. She didn’t hate the planet Navar, but she hated being unable to leave.
“I’ll make it three million if you can just… do what I need you to do. Show me your holocomm right now. I’ll transfer the money.”
She stepped forward and Tauri stumbled back, gritting her teeth as her back hit the wall.
“Let go of me!” Tauri kicked out, but the Dagrian didn’t even flinch as her boots hit her assailant’s stomach.
“I don’t have time for this. I won’t offer again.”
“Alright, alright!” Tauri scrambled to find her holocomm. “It’s in one of my pockets. You’ll transfer the funds right now?” she asked as she pulled the device from her jacket.
Tauri placed her thumb on the scanner, and a hologram of her account immediately popped up. She winced at the number, wondering when it had gotten so low. There had been a few hundred units in it a few weeks ago.
The Dagrian bumped her holocomm into Tauri’s. Immediately, the number began to rise. The ticking echoed around the house, and her skin crawled uneasily.
Something was wrong. Strangers didn’t appear in the middle of the night with millions of credits without trouble following close behind.
This is a bad, stupid idea, she admonished herself. You don’t get involved in anyone’s business. Especially not like this. You don’t want to die.
But it was too late. Three million and twenty-three units blinked at her innocently as she struggled to breathe.
“That’s…”
“Your keys, please. And where's your craft?” The Dagrian’s eyes had started to roam again, and Tauri couldn’t help but feel self-conscious.
Her house was small and unassuming like her attached workplace. Her bedroom, kitchen, and bathroom were all nestled in an open space. Her main garage was enough to fit one large vehicle, and her side garage was more like a closet, barely able to fit her hoverbike when placed vertically. She’d had to shave off some of the handles and refit the seat.
But she shouldn't care about what this stranger thought. Overworlders had nothing but disdain for those below.
Tauri inhaled deeply, yanking the side door open. She slapped a button near the handle, and the wall rose steadily to reveal the alleyway between her workshop-home and a bakery. She shoved the ignition keyring at the stranger. “She’s all yours.”
The fluorescent eyes bored into Tauri’s soul, searching for something. “You must have so many questions. I promise I usually have better manners, but—”
Tauri held up a palm and shifted uncomfortably. Her nails had gotten dirtier throughout the day, indicating a shower was in her immediate future.
“I don’t know how things are in the overworld, but here? We don’t ask too many questions, and we don’t pry. Your business is yours, and my business is mine. Whatever happened,” she said softly, looking at the rusted splotches that had ruined the stranger’s dress, “I can only hope you did the right thing.”
The less I know, the better.
The Dagrian’s eyes filled with tears as she hugged Tauri tightly. “Thank you,” she whispered, voice trembling. “No matter what they say, I didn’t do it. I swear, I didn't. I’m going to figure this out.”
Tauri tried to squirm from her embrace, but she didn’t have enough strength. The stranger let go, giving Tauri’s shoulder a squeeze before climbing onto the bike. The engine sputtered on after a few tries, and she shot off into the night, weaving through the crowd effortlessly.
Tauri collapsed against the wall, shutting the doors. She tapped the security lock several times, the soft chime giving her no comfort. She hurried into her room, feeling the weight of her raypistol as it fit easily into her hand.
It wasn’t enough.
For the first night in years she turned on the security cameras. There hadn’t been a need for them, but she liked to be cautious. There was an unspoken respect in this part of the underworld. So long as she didn’t mess with anyone, no one would mess with her.
But it didn’t matter.
She fell to the floor, rubbing her forehead. Her finger brushed against her holocomm, and her unit account blinked innocuously. The orange glow from the numbers washed the small room in a strange light, casting shadows that should have never existed.
She needed to get off the planet as soon as she could. With that money, she probably wouldn’t even need the credentials Geru was bringing her. But she wanted to make sure he got his hovercraft back. She’d worked too many hours to disappear without returning it.
She glanced down at her clenched fist, knuckles devoid of any color. She turned her hand over, gradually unfurling each finger until the mess of receipts and keys was revealed. She looked at each one, noting the same address written on the back of everything.
The Dagrian even left her with a unit holder. When she checked the amount, she cringed at the six figures nearing another million.
It all reeked of danger.
But soon, she’d find her place among the stars and leave this uncertainty behind.
Chapter Two
Tauri stared at the triterrain racer craft with interest. The gauges indicated it was meant for low and high atmospheric and galactic travel. If it worked well enough with minor fixes to reach the R’nal moon outpost, then she wouldn’t have to pay for a lift at one of the Navarian docking stations. She rubbed her hands in excitement as another thought occurred: she could even leave without having to deal with checkpoints, unlike most underworlders.
Geru had already picked up his fixed hovercraft, handing over the promised travel credentials.
She tapped the small square of plexiglass. It was amazing how something so small could hold so much information about a ship and its crew. She slipped it into her jacket pocket, feeling startled when her fingers brushed paper. A beat passed before she remembered all the junk the stranger had handed over along with the racer keys. The paper would have to wait a short workday before getting thrown away.
Tauri wiggled under the craft, fiddling with the panels to check for any miswirings. So far, her inspections showed the vehicle to be in mint condition. Tauri frowned. So, why did the woman need it fixed?
Unless she was trying to buy another craft. But if that were the case, she could’ve just traded the triterrain to an actual dealer instead of getting a bike that was moments away from collapsing. Or she could’ve bought a completely new craft. The stranger hadn’t even blinked a lash tossing millions of units around. Any high-end vehicle could be hers.
So why?
Tauri bit her lip, dreading the answer she knew. She needed to leave before anything came back to bite her. The stranger had to be wrapped up in something awful.
More children had appeared today to continue the artwork on the doors. Rhea and Talar worked on the front of the left sliding door, and a few others played with a kickball. Tauri had
closed one door at their request to paint, and the sound of their brushes and spray paint had slowed. They were nearly done, and Tauri was excited to see the end results. But their voices were gone without so much as a goodbye or a request for her to look at their work.
“Girls, everything okay out there?” she asked, wincing as a drop of oil plopped onto her check.
Silence.
Footsteps echoed throughout her shop, and she jerked up. Her head slammed into the bottom of the craft, and her ears rang from the force. She quickly scrambled out, staring up at the new intruder. Her tongue went dry as panic set low in her gut.
He was dressed casually, but it was still too much for an underworlder. The fine yellow silk of his loose shirt was tucked into black pants. A black leather jacket moved easily with his shoulders when he crossed his arms. Boots clacked as he took a few steps around the shop, inspecting her walls.
Straight black hair was carefully pushed back, brushing against the nape of his neck and tucked neatly behind a pointed ear. Some locks had fallen across his forehead, but he didn’t seem to notice or care. His jaw was strong, and he walked like he was used to asserting command, shoulders raised and back straight.
Glowing light blue eyes found Tauri’s, and the slitted pupil's dilated. His lavender skin glimmered like crushed amethyst. Both his eyes and skin were a shade lighter than the stranger’s from last night.
Silver markings swept across his cheekbones gently. His lips curled into a smile, and she saw a flash of his sharp canine. A lone dimple appeared, and she wanted nothing more than to shove him out of her shop.
Tauri narrowed her eyes, trying to be subtle as she felt with the raypistol in her pocket. “How may I help you?” she asked carefully.
He offered a hand to help her stand, but she brushed it aside and pushed to her feet. He stepped away, giving her space. She felt incredibly out of place, tilting her head back slightly to meet his unrelenting gaze. This was her home, she reminded herself. She wasn’t going to let a stranger make her feel like she was intruding. She pushed her shoulders back, twirling the wrench in her hand.