When Sparks Fly

by Autumn Dawn

  Gem pinched the bridge of her nose and shook her head, leaning her elbow on the chrome antigravity slab that served as the bar. “Long day.”

  “It’s not noon yet.”

  “It ought to be.” In no mood to do her usual work, she looked around and spotted one of The Spark’s regulars. In the corner beyond the fire, he leaned back in his chair and watched her with eyes that were probably already bloodshot, given the way he usually looked.

  She turned to Jaq. “How many’s he had today?”

  The bartender glanced at the corner, then filled two mugs with hot mulled Poizi berry juice. “One. I told you he’s not a drunk.”

  Gem raised a sardonic eyebrow and collected the mugs. “Weaves when he walks, eyes always bloodshot…He might only order one or two in here, but he’s drinking more elsewhere.”

  “If you’re so sure he’s a drunk, why serve him?” Jaq asked. He gave her a knowing look.

  “Shut up,” she replied good-naturedly, then took over the drinks.

  Hyna Blue gave her a crooked smile as she approached, squinting up at her through his wild black hair. “Hello, Blue-eyes. Come to save me today?”

  She ignored his flirting and put the mugs on the table. “Have something that won’t bite you back, Hyna.”

  “I told you to call me Blue. I’ve never gone by my first name.” He smiled crookedly. “Makes me think you’re talking to my uncle.” He considered her through indigo eyes as dark as hers were light. “You know, we’d make beautiful babies together. Just think—they’d all have blue eyes and your good looks.”

  “Sober up and ask me again,” she said, ignoring what his words did to her pulse. She was average-looking, with dark hair and a medium build. In spite of his habitual slouch, she’d seen him stand straight a time or two, and he was a big man. Maybe he did hard labor somewhere, because anyone who sat around like he did should have had a paunch. Hyna didn’t.

  There was something alluring about his ruined beauty, though the drunken stagger tended to tarnish the shine. He’d been coming into The Spark every day for two months now, ordering one drink and nursing it for hours. Nobody knew where he lived, or even if he had a home.

  He smirked. “Would you say yes?” he asked.

  “No.”

  “Then there’s no point in putting myself through the torture, is there?” He glanced at the glass of juice she offered and shook his head. “Why do you always bring this hot? It’s just not normal.” As he looked at the liquid, his eyes turned winter-gray. One touch, and the drink frosted over.

  “I just like to watch you cool it off,” she said, watching his cybernetic implants work. It was kind of sad; they gave him super strength and control over temperatures, but it meant he’d lost his arm somewhere. His eyes, too. She wondered if they’d been blue before the surgery. Using his cooling ability was a lot like waving a wooden leg around, advertising his disability. Maybe that was why she had a soft spot for him.

  He took a swallow from his original glass and savored it. “You do serve the best liquor in town. And the beer you guys brew…You sure you’re not bootlegging it?”

  She sighed. He always asked her that. “We distill it right here, and yes, we pay our taxes. Why, do you want a tour of our distillery?” She grimaced at her tone. Intolerance and snark were no way to reach a lost soul.

  “Sure,” he said with relaxed interest. “I always wanted to be a brewmaster. Missed my calling.”

  She regarded him skeptically. If he’d wanted to be a brewmaster, he’d have asked to see the brewery, not the distillery. A master distiller produced liquor. If he’d wanted to be one, he should have at least known the proper term. Of course, both facilities were housed in the same room here, and their brewmaster was also a certified master distiller; but Blue might not realize that. “What do you do now, other than haunt my place?”

  He wagged a finger. “You’re trying to distract me. You don’t want to give me the tour.”

  She didn’t. Talking to him in the bar was one thing; inviting him physically into any part of her life was another. And yet she found herself saying, “You don’t have a job, do you? Do you want one?”

  Those dark eyes actually looked surprised. “You want to hire me?”

  Disinterest seemed the best way to achieve her goal. “You smell. If you’re going to work for me, you need to shower, shave more than once a week and show up in clean clothes.”

  “Ouch! So much for the angel-of-mercy disguise. What if I don’t have another pair of clothes?”

  “Don’t you?” she asked without blinking. She’d suspected something of the sort.

  He took a meditative drink. “I suppose I could steal some.”

  “Do, and you’ll not step foot on my property again.”

  He looked down, not quite hiding a grin. “Now that’s serious.”

  She blew out a breath. “I could advance you a set of clothes against your first week’s pay. We need an extra hand to see to some chores that slip through the cracks. There’s gardening, some handiwork, help around the kitchens…whatever’s needed.”

  He blinked at her. “Are you going to buy me underwear, too? I need them extra roomy in front, you know.”

  A blush caught her by surprise. Embarrassed that he’d thrown her good intentions in her face, she stood.

  He stopped her with a light touch to the hand. Surprised, she looked at him. “I’ll take the job,” he said. There might even have been an apology in his eyes.

  Mollified, she nodded. “Tomorrow. Show up sober or the deal’s off.”

  She’d only taken two steps before trouble came her way in the guise of a redheaded storm. Brandy planted herself in front of Gem and growled, “What’s this I hear about you letting Xera run off to join the Galactic Explorers?”

  The coals of a headache had been lurking in Gem’s head all day; they now flared to crackling life. “She’s of age, and she’s worked toward it for years.”

  Her sister’s eyes flashed. “I don’t care if she’s a hundred! You know what the death rate is among their crews. Two ships disappeared this year alone, and nobody knows what happened to them. That’s not including attacks by pirates, mechanical failures, bloody alien plagues…You’re mad to let her go!”

  Gem bent her head and massaged the back of her neck, letting her short, straight hair cover part of her face. Why did Brandy always have to rake her over the coals at the times she was feeling most worried? “You have some way to stop her?”

  Her sister started tidying a table, working off her anxiety. “She won’t listen to me. She said you helped her with the paperwork! You’ve always overindulged her.”

  “That’s not fair,” Gem said quietly. Brandy could be nasty when nervous, but she usually had a sense of justice. Already Gem could see her start to feel remorse.

  Conscious of the interested ears at her back, Gem took the opportunity to formally introduce Blue to her sister as newly hired help. Brandy stared at him, then looked at Gem as if she’d lost her mind. She threw her towel down on the table and walked off with a muttered, “She’s lost it. Lost it!”

  “She likes me,” Blue said, and polished off his drink.

  Gem’s day did not get better. The inn filled back up in the afternoon with loud guests celebrating or bemoaning their wins and losses at the Simian Runs. Jaq and his girls were on alert, ready to deal with anyone who got out of hand.

  Anyone who had too much to drink was cut off. This had started as Gem’s father’s policy and remained hers. To prevent drunken protests, the policy was posted at each table along with the drink list, and carved in a sign above the bar. In spite of this, there were still a few belligerent drunks who thought they could intimidate an old man into giving them more. It was times like that when Jaq’s military training saved the day. He might be of advanced years, but he was deadly. The inn wouldn’t be what it was if not for him.

  Gem had retreated to her office and was trying to focus on accounts when the fire alarm went off. Her pen left
a streak on her document as she jumped up. She ripped open the door and watched the guests race by, babbling as they went. She waited for an opening then dashed up the stairs, pushing past people who tried to knock her down in their haste to escape.

  As she gained the second floor she found the smell of smoke everywhere, but she couldn’t tell where it was coming from. Using a master key, she started opening closed doors, going room by room to make sure each of the guests had evacuated. Brandy was at the other end of the hallway, doing the same.

  “Empty!” Gem called as they met in the middle. “All empty. The ventilation system must be spreading the smell around. Let’s check upstairs.”

  The smoke became visible as they raced up to the third floor, making them cough. Jaq was already there, kicking in doors. Gem winced, but they didn’t have time to be careful. The fire extinguishing system should have turned on by now. It hadn’t, and that worried her.

  “Down here!” Jaq called. Smoke billowed out of a door he’d just splintered. Using the fire extinguisher he’d grabbed off the wall, he sprayed all around as he walked in, likely unable to see.

  “Jaq, no! The floor!” Xera rushed in from nowhere, armed with her own extinguisher. “You don’t know what it’s going to do.”

  Gem shivered at the thought of Jaq crashing through a burning floor, then ran into a different room and grabbed a towel, soaking it in the bathtub. Brandy had found an extinguisher herself and was using it, but the actual blaze wasn’t what Gem was considering. She was worried about the people putting out the fire. If their clothes or hair caught, they could be seriously injured.

  Sirens sounded, announcing the volunteer fire department’s appearance—too late, as it turned out. The fire was almost dead by the time the men rushed up the stairs, ready to save the day. Coughing, Gem, her family and Jaq let the new arrivals take over, grateful to retreat downstairs and find cleaner air. Outside, the paramedics checked them over, treating their minor burns while a crowd of neighbors and guests looked on.

  Gem sat on the grass and rested her elbows on her knees as she watched the circus unfold around her. It was going to be a late night getting everyone resettled, and they’d all sleep with the scent of smoke in their noses. Why hadn’t the fire extinguishing system gone off? That room should have been coated with foam before the blaze even got started.

  The fire chief had the answer. “It was turned off.”

  “Excuse me?” Gem said, unable to believe her ears.

  Chief Puyta looked grim. “Someone spread oil on the rug and set it on fire. You’re lucky they didn’t use something faster burning or the damage would be a lot worse. Have you checked your till to make certain nothing is missing?”

  Jaq had locked the till in the bar and it was untouched. Gem’s office had been the target. Her petty cash box was missing, and a pile of dog poop sat squarely on her desk. A fork was stuck in it. The message was pretty clear.

  The chief’s almond eyes narrowed. His green hair was graying, but he was still plenty sharp. Tall and usually quiet, the Kiuyian had been a friend of Gem’s father until Gem’s father had passed away.

  “Someone has a sick sense of humor,” he said.

  Gem’s stomach churned, but she tried to lighten the moment. “Yeah. You know how long it took me to balance that ledger?”

  “It’s on the computer,” Brandy snapped, coming forward with a plastic bag. When she was angry, she cleaned.

  “Leave it a bit,” the chief ordered. “Let the crime scene techs do their thing. Maybe we can catch the guy who did this.”

  Xera cracked her knuckles, her face dark.

  Knowing they needed to work off some steam, Gem started giving orders before her family dispersed. “All right, let’s start settling guests. I’m going to talk to the police and find out which rooms they need to look at. Xera, you’re in charge of damage control. Anything that can be done to mollify guests, do it. There’s going to be smoke smell all over the rooms, so if you can find any fresh linens, please replace what you can. Get the rest in the wash and have the maids start scrubbing.

  “Brandy, find Jaq and tell him to close the bar for the night. Tell the kitchens they’re on light duty and have them air the place on that end.”

  Her sisters bolted off to do as they were told. Gem sat at the bar and watched the organized chaos unfold around her, stuck where she was answering questions for the police. No, she had no known enemies, no obvious suspects—though if she were going to put her money on pranksters, she’d consider the neighbor kid, Bijo. She could see him and his buddy pulling a stunt like this. Still, he was a kid and she didn’t like mentioning him to the cops. It was a necessary evil, though. Someone could have been hurt. If it was Bijo, he needed a wake-up call.

  Mentioning his name didn’t stop the flow of questions, though. They kept coming, adding stress to an already tense situation.

  Brandy brought a pot of herbal tea, earning herself a grateful smile. Gem’s sister had managed to wash her face, which only reminded Gem of the soot coating her own. The moment she could slip away, she washed up, watching the grime twirl down the drain, just like her evening.

  Ah, well. No doubt tomorrow would be better.

  Chapter Two

  “Stinks like smoke in here.”

  Gem looked up from her consultation with her head chef, Jamir, and blinked. Blue had showered. He’d shaved. He was standing there in her kitchens, dwarfing her and the tiny Latq at her side.

  “How tall are you?” she asked before she thought. She might come up to his collarbone. The Latq was barely four feet high and fine-boned, making Blue seem even bigger.

  He grinned. “Impressed?” He’d pulled his black hair off his face and bound it with a piece of twine, and while his clothes were the same, they smelled a lot better.

  “I am. You’re walking straight and everything.”

  He smirked. “So, you got something for me? I know you can’t wait to get me out of these clothes.” His voice was lazy, suggestive.

  She sighed. “I’ve had a busy day and haven’t gotten to it. We had a fire here last night.”

  “I heard. You still owe me clothes,” he replied.

  She stared at him. “I’ve yet to see you do any work.”

  “Baby, I can work you right into the ground,” he replied, looking smug. “Get me some clothes. I wouldn’t mind some breakfast, either.” He eyed the lizard egg quiche Jamir had just taken out of the oven. “That’ll do.” And before they could say a word, he’d grabbed some potholders and snatched the whole pan.

  “Hey!” Jamir yelped, then started cursing in his language. He waved a wooden spoon threateningly, his milky-hued face turning pink, but he didn’t dare strike Blue, who sat at the table, arms protectively circling the pie dish as he wolfed down the food. The quiche was steaming hot, and Blue gulped air into his open mouth to cool it before swallowing.

  Gem grimaced and murmured an apology to Jamir. “We’ll teach him manners.”

  “I heard that!”

  Jamir bared his sharp teeth and started banging pots around.

  Casting an irate glance at Blue, Gem picked up her communicator and keyed in the code to a clothing store. She talked to the clerk for a few moments, describing what she needed, then pressed the comm to her shoulder and told Blue, “They need to know what sizes you wear.”

  He shrugged. “Tall.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Just send me several sets for tall men, in different sizes. I’ll send back what I don’t need. Yes, thanks. I’ll expect you.”

  Blue looked up with interest, having wolfed down the entire quiche. “Must be nice to have someone do your shopping for you. That a regular thing?” He grabbed an unguarded drink on the table and gulped it down.

  Gem frowned. “Not really. I’d take care of it in person, but I don’t have time today and I don’t trust you.”

  “You think I’d walk off with your money?”

  “Would you trust you?”

  His smile was answer e
nough.

  “Fine. If you’re finished eating, let’s go to the gardens and I’ll give you your first task.”

  “After you,” he said. He grabbed a fried dumpling on the way out.

  Birdsong and the heavy smell of barbed melon flowers greeted them as they stepped through the rusted garden gate. Herbs and buju berry arbors lined the dirt path to the vegetable patches, providing shade for less heat-tolerant plants. Past them, just before the main garden, were piles of jumbled stone that served as the egg-lizard huts. Several reptiles were out seeking bugs or sunning themselves on the rocks, while a few brooding females flicked forked tongues, staring out of darkened nooks. A few hissed irritably as Hyna and Gem walked by.

  The Spark employed two full-time gardeners during the height of the season, a father and his son, but the son had hurt his back two days ago and hadn’t been in to work. Blue would come in very useful, provided he put forth decent effort.

  Gem led him to a cart and handed him a shovel. Thanks to kitchen scraps and specially designed toilets, they had an abundant supply of aged compost. “Here you go. All the raised beds in this back section need a side dressing of compost, about three to four inches deep. When you’ve used up this cart, pull it back to that pile there and get some more.” She pointed. “When you’re done with that, you can use the weed burner to torch these thorn starts and carnivorous weeds between the rows.” She kicked at a clump in illustration.

  Hyna looked around the large garden. “This is a two-day job.”

  She shrugged. “Job security. You could leave.”

  He stared at her for a moment as if tempted, then stuck his shovel into the pile. “When’s lunch?”

  She laughed. “Noon, if you can find room after that quiche. There’s a hose at the head of the path if you get thirsty—you saw it on the way in. Have fun.”

  Brandy met her at the gate with a sour expression. “He actually showed up?”