by Stasia Black
And then she heads for the front door. Yes, good, Juliet. Go away, go far away and leave me to my work.
I wait until I see her exit the front of the building. For a second I am torn. I want to follow and protect her but then my eyes go back to the window. Because the best thing I can do to protect her is to rid her of the vermin plaguing her dwelling.
She pauses in front of her building, eyes on her phone. Within minutes, a car pulls up and she gets inside. Good. It will soon be night and my heart eases to know she will not be out walking alone.
I wait until the car disappears around the corner.
And then I spring into action.
It is not difficult to find the door to Juliet’s dwelling once I am inside the building. Hers is the second window from the right, and I find the door with ease.
The lock is easily broken with a simple shove of my shoulder, as was the lock to the building door downstairs.
I slip inside and shut the door behind me.
I am met with loud snoring.
The blood rage which had cooled slightly on seeing Juliet’s safe exit rises again in full force. I walk to the couch that I have seen so many times from afar through the window. This male, bigger than Juliet by more than a kronon, dared to lay a hand upon her.
He is big by human standards, but nothing to a Draci, even without our superior reflexes and strength. If he were standing, I would tower over him.
My neck goes hot and my hands fist. I want to roast him on a spit and slowly pull out his entrails while he’s still alive to watch.
But then I look around Juliet’s apartment. I cannot make a mess.
Secrecy must be upheld.
I grumble under my breath and then reach down and lift the male up into the air by his neck. “Hey! What the fuck?!” he immediately begins squawking, his feet kicking, trying to find purchase.
“I cannot take my time with you,” I tell him with true regret after slamming him into the wall. “But at least you will see my face before you die.”
And then I twist my hands and his feeble, fragile little neck snaps.
I let go and he falls to the ground, dead.
Chapter Five
Juliet
I hide out in the motel for three days before going back home. Usually Robbie has cooled off by then and will be sorry, bring me some ugly flowers, and promise it will never happen again.
That lasted a whole four days last time. It’s always getting shorter and shorter.
I tell myself to just buy a bus ticket and get the hell out of here. Don’t look back. Stay on the run if that’s what it takes.
But then I simply feel…exhausted.
He’d find me.
I tried to run, once, and he found me within a day and a half. I couldn’t leave my apartment for a month, the bruises were so bad.
I’m trapped. With him.
Usually I can get away with a few days at a hotel without him going nuts on me. But only because he knows exactly where I am.
I shake my head. God, I can’t change any of this so why am I even obsessing over it?
I buckle down and do my editing work and put off my friends and eat junk food from the snack machine and generally try not to think about my life at all.
It works. Sort of.
Stupidly, what I can’t stop thinking about is the fact that I promised the flower shop guy I’d be back the next day and then I never showed up. So beyond imbecilic. He’s a complication I definitely don’t need in my already complicated, fucked up life.
I’m surprised Robbie isn’t texting and calling every other minute like he usually does when I take these little timeouts. I’m not sure if it’s a good sign or bad sign.
Maybe he’s finally done with me?
God, I should be so lucky.
Three days at even the cheapest motel I can find is still pricey, and like always, I end up back at home. My rideshare lets me off in front of my apartment building and I pause, looking up. What if Robbie’s still there? I bite my lip.
It’s better to just rip off the band-aid. Go up there like a grown-up and face my shit excuse for a boyfriend.
I square my shoulders and go to unlock the door to my building. Which is when I see that the lock has been replaced and there’s a note that says: Buzz Martin For New Key.
I frown. What the hell happened here? Was there a break-in or something?
I buzz Martin and he unlocks the door and meets me at the bottom of the stairs. He’s a tall man in his 60s, slightly stooped and fond of cardigan sweaters. He’s always been more than nice and accommodating to me.
“Damnedest thing,” he says, handing me two new keys. “It was all busted up like someone had been at it with a battering ram. But no one’s reported anything in their apartments stolen. We checked all the locks on each apartments and yours was the only one that was also broken.”
“Mine?” I asked in alarm. “Did they take anything? I haven’t been home for a few days.”
“I know. I’ve been waiting for you to come home so you could check your apartment to see if anything was taken. It didn’t look ransacked or anything. Your TV and stuff are all still there.”
Okaaaay. “Have you seen Robbie?”
Martin’s face darkens. “I never liked that boy. I’m glad I haven’t seen him around.”
“Really?” He usually camps out at the apartment when he’s in town. Which has been almost all the time lately.
“You in some kind of trouble, honey?” Martin looks at me in concern.
“What? No! I just thought— I was just wondering—” I take a breath. “I just thought that he’d be around to check on the place while I was out of town.” There. That sounds normal. “And he has a key,” I hurry to add, so Martin doesn’t think it was Robbie busting down doors. It is his style but… I seriously can’t imagine why he would. Robbie gets mad and does stupid shit, but this just doesn’t make any sense.
Martin nods. “Okay. I just think you can do better than that boy.”
I smile at him. Martin’s a good man in a world that doesn’t have enough of them. “All right, I’m going to go run up to my apartment and check things out.”
“Let me know if anything is missing and I’ll add it to the insurance claim.”
I nod and then jog up the stairs.
The lock on my door is just as new and shiny as the one downstairs and I fumble a second, figuring out how to fit the new key into it.
When I finally push open the door, yeah, I’m a little nervous as to what I’ll find on the other side.
But when I get inside the apartment, everything just looks…normal.
Like super, super normal. Just like I left it, except without Robbie passed out on the couch. So, you know, improved.
I drop my backpack and purse by the door and go exploring. But like Martin said, all my electronics are still here and when I head to the bathroom, the few pieces of gold jewelry I own are right where I left them. I can’t find anything out of place.
Huh. Weird.
I go back to the kitchen and start to toast myself a bagel when I notice my sad, drooping tulip. My eyes shoot to the clock on the stove. It’s only 3:30. The flower shop is still open for another hour and a half.
Does Shak work everyday? He said he bought the place from Latoya. He’s probably hired staff by now. Latoya was only in on Tuesdays and Thursdays.
I butter my bagel and eat it, wandering to the window and looking down at the flower shop.
I have work I need to get back to. Buying a single flower every day is a silly extravagance. After staying at the motel twice now this month, I really should be pinching every penny.
I shove the last bite of bagel into my mouth and then wipe my hands off on a kitchen towel. I’m about to grab my backpack and pull out my laptop so I can get to work.
I swear I am.
But then, before I can think better of it, I’m over to the door and slinging my purse over my shoulder, new keys in hand.
What c
an I say?
Flowers are my weakness.
It has absolutely nothing to do with the insanely sexy, kind man behind the counter. Nothing at all.
Chapter Six
Shak
I am behind the counter when Juliet finally comes in again. It has been three nerve-racking days. Where has she been? Has she been safe? I’ve cursed myself a million times over for not following her. The cockroach could have been taken care of any time but if something happened to her because I was not there to—
But she is here now. My eyes sweep her head to toe and I cannot see any injury… Although she does seem to be wearing more face paint today than I have noticed in the past.
I scent the air with my tongue and my knees nearly buckle. It is Juliet, my Juliet. I have not lost her. She has come back to me.
“Hi Shak.” She smiles sweetly, her cheeks blushing pink. These human bodies are so astounding. There are a thousand signals to show what they are feeling and I am only beginning to read the language of Juliet.
“Juliet.” Her name is a sensuous caress on my tongue.
She smiles wider and tucks her glossy dark brown hair behind her ear.
“Where have you been?”
She stiffens and I immediately want to bite the words back into my mouth.
“I just… Needed to get away for a few days.”
I nod, even though her answer does not satisfy. “What flower would you like today?”
Her face brightens again and I am glad to see it.
She comes forward until she is right across the counter from me. “I’m not sure what I’m in the mood for today. What’s your favorite flower?”
Her question catches me off guard. I look around me. My thoughts have been only of Juliet, not these earth flowers, which are all muted and dull compared to those of my home planet. There is only one that comes close and I pluck it off of the wall. It is a vibrant pink lily.
I hand the flower to Juliet.
She smiles and leans over to inhale.
“Beautiful,” she says.
My gaze stays on her. “Yes. Beautiful.”
Pink again stains her cheeks.
“Would you like to go out for a beverage with me?” It is a leap forward in our courtship but I have been reading earth books and I believe this is the required next step.
But Juliet moves back from me and her bright eyes become hooded. I can no longer read the language of her face. I have said something wrong. But what?
“Shak, that’s really sweet.” She looks over her shoulder quickly and then back at me. “But I can’t,” she whispers. “I have a boyfriend and if he found out—” She shakes her head. “Anyway I can’t.”
She pulls her pocketbook out from her purse and places money on the counter. “Thank you for the flower.”
And then, before I can say another word to stop her, she exits the flower shop and hurries across the street back to her dwelling.
I let out a furious growl and only barely stop myself from banging my hands on the counter. It would shatter the glass, and how would I explain that to Juliet when she comes back tomorrow? If she comes back tomorrow.
I smack the side of my head instead. Idiot. I pushed too soon.
Did she actually have feelings for that scum I exterminated? Or was he simply a convenient excuse not to go get beverages with me?
I pace the flower shop back and forth, back and forth.
It is a half turn of the clock later before I am struck by a thought.
What if… What if she does not know that her male is gone for good? She is loyal. That is a good quality. She has been gone, so naturally when she returned, she would expect for her male to still be here. I am the only one who knows he is dead.
But how do I let her know?
Here it is not normal to murder one competing for a mate’s attentions like it is back home, I know that much. She may become afraid of me if she learns what I did. Though I do not regret it for a single moment. Anyone who mistreats Juliet will meet the same end.
Still, I need her to know that that man will not be coming back.
I cannot make a wrong step. Too much is at stake. And although I have studied, there is one who knows more about the mating rituals of this planet than me.
Quickly, I call for a wheeled conveyance and close and lock the flower shop. The wheeled conv—the car—drives me to the outskirts of the city to the abandoned aircraft hangar where I have hidden my shuttle.
One press of a button on my tablet later, and my shuttle reappears briefly out of cloaking mode. I hurry inside and then reset the cloak.
It is a standard shuttle with a gray and shining silver pyrthithium interior. I sit in the pilot’s chair and place my hands on the plasma interface.
“Call Ezo.”
I wait while the inter-planetary connection is made.
Ezo’s voice comes through after several long moments. “Shak? Is something wrong?”
“It is an emergency. I have need of your knowledge.”
“Okay but make it quick. I have another treatment session soon. The webbing is gone from my hands and my human skin covers most of my scales now!”
I smile at the enthusiasm in my friend’s voice. “Soon you will join me then. In the meantime, I need to know how humans quit a relationship.”
“Quit? But I thought you were—”
“Not me. It is my female. I have rid myself of a male competitor but she does not know he is gone from the board. I cannot pursue her while she still believes him to be a player.”
Ezo makes a thoughtful noise. “According to human customs, he must break up with her.”
“Break up?” What does he mean? “I do not understand.”
“That is the terminology they use. A male asks a female to go out with him. If she says yes, then he is her boy friend. To no longer be her boy friend, he must break up with her.”
“Go out and break up?” I furrow my brow. “That is it? Mere words are exchanged? No battle? No blood oaths?”
“No. If you wish to be truly rid of this male competitor, he must break up with her.”
I growl. “That might be difficult considering he is dead.”
“Perhaps you could send a communication and pretend it is from him.”
I pause, then my head snaps up. “By the ancients, Ezo, you are a genius! Before I burned his body, I confiscated his communication device.”
“You have his cell phone? What does it look like?” Ezo sounds all but giddy. “Is it true they use tiny parts of metal instead of plasma to power their technology?”
I spin the pilot’s chair around and then rustle through some junk I have gathered since I’ve come to this planet. And there it is. The male’s phone.
I pushed the buttons on the side but nothing happens. It does not light up like I have seen when other humans use their phones.
“It is broken,” I growl in frustration.
“Human technology is weak,” Ezo reminds me. “It may have no charge. Hook it up to the plasma.”
Again my friend is thinking more clearly than I.
I hurry back to the plasma console and hold the phone over the glowing interface rectangle. “Interface with human technology,” I tell the computer.
A small spindle of plasma rises and covers the phone. Within moments, the phone’s screen is glowing with life.
“Yes! It is working. Computer, message Juliet via human technology.”
On the small phone screen, Juliet’s name pops up along with a string of messages back and forth between her and Robbie. I do not read them, suspecting they will likely only infuriate me.
“Computer, start message: Juliet, I am breaking up with you. I am no longer your boyfriend.”
Ezo’s voice comes over the com link. “No, man, you’ve got to make it sound more human than that.”
“What do you mean?”
“You never got the hang of contractions, did you?”
“I find them unnecessary for communication.”
/>
Ezo sighs. “Well, to humans you sound like a computer.”
“I do not,” I object. “Juliet has never indicated there is a problem with my speech patterns.”
“Computer,” Ezo says, “delete message to Juliet. New message: Juliet, babe, this isn’t working for me anymore. I wanna see other people. So I’m breaking up with you.”
I frown, not sure the message needs all those extra words. “Computer, add the following words: You will never see me again.”
I look at the final message on the screen of the phone. Juliet, babe, this isn’t working for me anymore. I wanna see other people. So I’m breaking up with you. You will never see me again.
I nod. It is acceptable. “Computer, send message.”
A little noise comes from the phone and then the message appears in a bubble and ‘sent’ shows up underneath it. Moments later it changes to ‘read.’
“Ezo, I believe she has read the message.” I cannot keep the excitement out of my voice.
“Has she sent anything back?”
“Not yet. But now there are three dots blinking on the screen.”
“That means she’s typing.”
“Now the three dots have disappeared. What does that mean?”
“She has stopped typing.”
I watch the little screen anxiously. “The three dots are back!”
A noise pings from the phone and then Juliet’s message appears: Okay.
I read it to Ezo. “What does that mean?”
“I think it means that she did not really like this boy friend very much. Either that, or she is extremely hurt and does not want to show it.”
“Well which is it? This is important!”
“We cannot know from a message. You will have to find out by talking to her.”
“I cannot ask her about a boy friend I am not supposed to know about.”
“Hmm. This is all so much more complicated than I imagined. I can’t wait to get to earth and experience it for myself.” Ezo can obviously barely contain his excitement.