Tail Dark and Handsome Read online

  “I was thinking of another nanny.”

  “A nanny? You’re too old.” Fourteen was too young to be unsupervised but too old for a nanny.

  “Not to supervise, but to coach me. Help me be normal around people.”

  “Are you saying I don’t know how to be normal around people? No, don’t answer.” A recluse for the last few years, Winter did not know how to be normal around anyone. Not that he ever excelled at sociability. He lost his polish and with it the social niceties like being polite and refraining from growling when someone shoved a camera in his face.

  “We’ll revisit. Point two, I want to stay in one place for at least a year, to maximize social investment.”

  “Our ship is not good enough?” Their private yacht had all the luxuries a person needed to cruise the stars in comfort.

  “Dad, you don’t understand,” Zero whined, suddenly sounding very much a teenager. “I want to live on Corra.”

  “No.” Absolutely not. He would never return to that horrid place.

  “That’s it? No reason, just do as I say?”

  “You know the reason,” he growled.

  Zero’s ears went back, but he lifted his chin in pure stubborn determination. “I want to visit Mama’s grave.”

  “She is not—” Winter closed his eyes, wanting to say that Rebel’s body might rest on Corra, but her heart and spirit were not there. Zero carried them with him. Instead, Winter recalled the dark skies as the storm swallowed their vehicle and tossed it about like a toy. For a moment, they had been weightless, then the vehicle slammed into the ground. He awoke to fractures in his hips and legs, and Rebel had vanished.

  It took six months to recover her body. In that time, Winter’s broken bones healed, and he learned to walk with an artificial hip. The court of public opinion shredded his reputation.

  The official investigation deemed Rebel’s death an accident, but the damage from what had been said about him, about their family, speculated on the front page of every news media site, could not be undone.

  Winter fled the planet the moment he could, and he never wanted to return.

  “I know. I just want—” Zero reached for his tail, spilling the cards onto the ground.

  “Would you consider an academy? You could stay there for the entire school year?”

  Zero’s ears went back, disliking the idea. “Then you’d be alone.”

  “I’ll be fine.” He had kept his mind occupied for the last few years by traveling the stars in his private ship. He had shown his kit many wonders, but there were more places to visit. He could explore on his own. It was not running away, and he always had his work.

  “I just want to be regular.” Zero slumped down, leaning back on his hands, and his tail dangled at his side like a limp noodle.

  Winter’s heart ached for his kit. He would do anything for Zero, but what the kit wanted…he was too young to remember the media storm after the accident or, if Winter were being honest, the constant rumors before the accident. Staying in one place for too long brought attention, even now. There were always those who wanted to stick a camera in his face and discuss Rebel, hoping to get a reaction. Constant travel protected Zero from that.

  But it left his kit feeling rootless and without friends. It pained Winter to see make friends a goal. Seclusion may have been right to him, but it harmed Zero.

  And it had to be Corra, because his kit needed to see a hunk of polished granite engraved with his mother’s name.

  “One year,” he said.

  Zero immediately perked, his tail vibrating with excitement. He threw himself at his father in an increasingly rare display of affection. “Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! This is going to be the best year!” He rubbed his cheek to Winter’s, a soft kitten purr in his throat. “But—”

  “The house may be in disrepair,” he cautioned. Harboring too many painful memories, he left the property—and all his research—to a caretaker. Other than the occasional update and request for repairs, he knew nothing about the condition of the house. “It will not be as comfortable as the ship.”

  “I don’t care! I’m so excited. When? Can we go now? Let’s go now.”

  The journey to Corra would take a solid month from their current location. “When my project has concluded.”

  “And I’ll find a nanny,” Zero nodded, as if he settled the matter.

  Ah, that blasted nanny.

  “No nanny.” Zero opened his mouth to protest, but Winter held up a hand. “No. If you want to be a peer with your cohorts, you must have the same accommodation. You are too old for a nanny.” Avoiding media attention and simply being the child of his parents would make Zero’s plan difficult enough. Having a nanny follow him around would further ostracize him from his peers and potential friends.

  “Fine,” Zero said, dragging out the word to indicate that it was, in fact, anything but fine. “This will be great. You’ll see!”

  Chapter 2

  Ferre family tragedy. Insurgent forces shot down the business magnate’s ship as it attempted to leave Talmar’s surface. No survivors have been reported.

  -Tal Tattler

  Marigold

  Apparently, it could get worse. A lot worse.

  “I heard everything. It’s shameful, really, just shameful. Of course, I understand why a girl like you would be susceptible to such an act, but I’m shocked that Valerian didn’t sense his bad intention.” The woman attempted to frown, but the muscle relaxants injected to smooth away wrinkles left her unable to express basic human emotions. Not that Mari thought the woman capable of such vulgarity.

  She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. The crystal pendant floated off her chest in the zero-gravity room. Focusing on the feel of the silver chain around her neck, she recited the seven Tal virtues.

  Humility.

  Patience.

  She would tune out the universe and find perfect peace.

  Mari cracked an eye open. The woman was still there, whispering in hushed tones.

  “I’m sorry, I’m trying to find my center,” she said.

  “Oh. Oh,” The woman’s eyes went wide, suddenly realizing they were in a Zero-Gravity Yoga class and not gossiping over cocktails.

  With her blood pressure at odds with the soothing music playing in the studio and her mood soured, Mari ran through the rest of the virtues: kindness, justice, fortitude, prudence, and forgiveness.

  Nope. A settling sense of calm did not descend. Mari found herself as annoyed as she had been a minute ago.

  The instructor moved the class through the final poses and into five minutes of meditation. Mari did her best to empty her thoughts. She floated a foot above a padded floor. Her hair, pulled back into a ponytail, drifted around her. The giant window on the far wall was open to reveal the brightly colored churning gasses of a nearby nebula, nearby being a relative term. Olympus Station offered spectacular views of the nebula.

  Free from gravity, the constant ache in her shoulders eased. She should follow up with a massage to work out the last of the tension in her back and shoulders, but she wanted to enjoy the blessed silence.

  The instructor thanked them for their participation and wished them all a peaceful journey. The music ended, and gravity returned with a gradual pull that dragged her back down to the padded floor.

  Her chatty companion picked up her monologue right where she left off. Mari turned to dry her face with a towel, hoping the woman would realize the conversation was at an end. Any reasonable person would. She grabbed her bag and walked out of the studio.

  The woman followed.

  What the…

  She needed help or a distraction. Heading to the refreshment table, she waved to Valerian. Yes, she did Zero-Gravity Yoga with her mother. In a few days, they’d be on a ship heading toward her prepaid and nonrefundable—she tried—honeymoon with her mother. She paid for two tickets, and she planned to use two tickets.

  It wasn’t that weird.

  “Cucumber water,” Ma
ri offered, wanting to stuff the sliced cucumbers and lemons down the woman’s throat. Instead, she handed the mouthy lady a tumbler of water and sliced whatevers that were supposed to promote…something. Detox? Energy?

  “Oh, thank you.” The woman took a sip, leaving a vivid ring of lipstick on the rim of the glass. “You know,” she started.

  Please, no. Just be quiet.

  Mari steeled herself for whatever the woman was about to say.

  “You have a lot of acid. I can see it in your pores.” The woman leaned close, as if to inspect Mari’s skin. “Massive. Like craters. Alkaline water will neutralize the acid in your stomach. A bit of lemon wouldn’t go amiss either, and help you shed a few pounds.”

  Mari repeated the virtues. The repetition had always soothed her temper in the past. Not today.

  “Lemon is an acid. If I added it to alkaline water, it would turn the water neutral,” she said dryly.

  The problem with living on a close-knit station like Olympus was that gossip spread like wildfire. Everyone seemed to know Mari’s story, and everyone felt the need to console her. The pity, sympathy, and well-worn clichés about everything happening for a reason got real old, real fast.

  She blamed Valerian and feared the pattern would continue on the ship.

  Bring her mother, she thought. Great idea, she thought. Don’t waste a perfectly good ticket, she thought.

  Big mistake.

  Valerian followed Mari around, constantly updating her star chart and loudly announcing anything that looked like a good omen. Her baby was suffering, and she would do anything to ease the pain, if that anything involved complaining about Tomas and how Celestial Mates was rife with con artists and thieves.

  It didn’t help that Valerian had just a touch of a flamboyant personality. Hardly worth mentioning.

  Okay, okay. Within hours of the disaster that had been her wedding, Valerian shared the shocking details about what a cad and a heartless monster Tomas had been to her baby with business associates, shop clerks, and the neighbors. Everyone seemed to know about Mari’s personal life because Valerian couldn’t keep her mouth shut.

  Valerian convinced her to come out for the yoga class. Or wore her down. The result was the same.

  Still better than mopping her apartment. Marginally. Mari bolstered herself, knowing that in a few days she’d be at the resort, enjoying the sunshine and a beach. She’d tolerate her mother’s persistent gossiping for a few more days. Hopefully, she’d be distracted once they boarded the ship.

  Mari gulped down her own glass of cucumber-infused water and looked to the window. The nebula swirled with purple and gold churning gasses.

  The woman continued to prattle on, and Mari did her best to keep a placid expression on her face. The woman complained about the freshness of the lemons—she honestly expected fresh lemons on a space station? Apparently, the woman had to apply a thick layer of makeup and tease out her hair into an impressive updo before she was presentable enough for yoga. Mari guessed she also regularly visited a youth spa; that woman had an impressive amount of work done. She had modified her body into an ageless state that could be anywhere between forty to one hundred.

  “You know, you’re not so old. You can get these lifted. They’re so droopy.” The woman grabbed Mari’s ear and pulled her down for inspection.

  Mari knocked her hand away, furious. How dare she grab her! She opened her mouth to give the opinionated woman a piece of her mind when a familiar hand touched her shoulder.

  “I don’t like your aura. It’s not normally so peaky,” Valerian said.

  Mari did not understand what that meant. “I’m fine.”

  Valerian frowned. “We should consult your star chart and sort this out.”

  Mari knew what was wrong with her. She opened her heart to the wrong man. “I’m going to take a nap. I’m sure the peakiness will pass.”

  “If you’re sure…” Valerian did not look convinced.

  Mari’s unwanted companion turned her attention to Valerian. “You do star charts?”

  “I do.”

  “Fascinating. Is it true—”

  The two women wandered off, deep in conversation.

  Twenty minutes later, Mari sat on the bed in the apartment she once shared with Tomas, staring in disbelief at the eviction notice on her tablet.

  How did everything keep getting worse?

  She threw the tablet across the room. The new landlord wanted payment now.

  When she and Tomas moved in together, he told her he’d handle the rent and she should put that money toward the wedding. So she did, like a chump, month after merry month. Turns out, Tomas hadn’t paid the rent at all. Like, not even once. Fortunately, she worked out a payment schedule with the landlord to avoid eviction.

  Something changed, and now she had thirty days to pay up or move out, all because Tomas gambled away their rent at the casino.

  Perfect. That’s what she got for checking her messages. She should have avoided those like she’d been avoiding Nox.

  There had to be a reason for all this bad karma barreling down at her. She believed herself to be a kind person. She didn’t kick puppies or spread malicious gossip. Why in the ever-loving heavens did the universe send Tomas DeWitt her way?

  Mari sank into the bed. The sheets were crisp and clean and the comforter fluffy like a cloud. The mattress must have been made out of a marshmallow because the bed felt divine. She fidgeted to get comfortable. Yoga usually eased the tightness in her lower back, but not today. She was wound so tight she felt like she’d implode.

  The mattress didn’t help. Her body ached. Her soul hurt.

  Even if she had the money, she did not want to stay. Tomas infected her apartment. What had once been her haven was ruined because she shared it with him.

  And her bed…

  She wouldn’t be able to rest in that bed, thinking about goodnight kisses, early morning conversations, and how Tomas’ hair spilled on the pillow. Her mind replayed every conversation from their first messages, first date to their final night when Tomas kissed her goodbye and said he couldn’t wait to see his perfect wife in her wedding dress.

  It didn’t matter. While she bent over backward to be the perfect partner for him, he gave her nothing but lies. Sweet lies that felt so real.

  Tears refused to fall, no matter how long she wallowed in self-pity.

  Maybe her aura was peaky.

  No. She couldn’t do this. Just no. On the first night, she changed the sheets and gave the entire apartment a good scrubbing. It failed to clean away the memories that clung to the walls, choking the air. She couldn’t stay here now, thanks to Tomas borrowing money and doing stars knew what with it.

  Looked like she was getting a fresh start in a new apartment, complete with a new bed.

  Being conned out of her money was hard enough, but her mother kept snatching at the air around Mari’s head to clean the negative energy...

  So embarrassing.

  She wanted to hide away in her apartment until people aboard the station got bored or the next juicy bit of scandal happened. It was a busy station. Someone had to be doing something worth gossiping about.

  The pressure would ease when they reached the resort. Stations were confined spaces, no matter their size. People got weird when locked up together for too long. At the resort, Mari would be a stranger. She could lounge on the beach or the pool. She could hike the hills and discover the island. The brochure boasted about ancient ruins. Those might be worth exploring.

  Mari couldn’t shake the feeling that she should be sadder. Heartbroken. She had been ready to pledge herself for life to Tomas, so why did she feel embarrassed and annoyed, rather than devastated? Had she been so desperate to marry that anyone would do? Or had Tomas been particularly charming? Shouldn’t she be sobbing on her best friend’s shoulder instead of holed up in her cabin, hiding?

  Mari just didn’t know anymore, and she wanted to be away from all those sympathetic people with their pitiful e
yes and empty words of comfort.

  She hated this. All of this. The self-doubt. The moping. The sleepless nights. No amount of mindful meditation helped ease the tension twisting inside her.

  That fresh start sounded so good.

  Now she needed to scrape together enough credits for first and last month’s rent for another apartment in the station. The lower levels were cheap, but she didn’t have the credits even for them. Joseph still lived in the family’s accommodation, where Mari had lived only six months ago. She’d have to move back until she got the money together for her own place.

  She shuddered. For a woman who built a career on mindfulness, inner peace, and harmony, Valerian embodied chaos. Growing up, Mari never knew how long they’d be in any one place. Being a constant outsider made it impossible for her to make friends. Just when she got over her shyness, it was time to move again. Mari hated the uprooted, drifting sensation of starting over.

  Age had not mellowed Valerian’s natural chaos. Working and living with her mother would be too much. A little Valerian went a long way, but Mari knew that wasn’t the issue.

  Her pride.

  She didn’t want to slink back to her mother’s house with her tail between her legs, so to speak. Bad enough that everyone knew she fell for a sweet-talking con man. She didn’t want to be the thirty-year-old loser who got evicted from her apartment.

  Correction: the thirty-year-old homeless loser.

  Fine.

  She’d talk with her mother. Soon, no doubt. Valerian had this weird knack for picking up on Mari’s moods. No third eye or sensitivity to auras necessary, just a mom knowing when her kid was upset.

  Mari left the bed to fetch her abused tablet, opened the mail program, and flicked through the unread overdue notices and threatening messages. Some could be contested. She hadn’t married Tomas, so she dodged being legally tied to the crook.

  As the bills grew, Mari could only assume that he had opened credit lines at every store and bar in the station. Clothes? Apparently, he bought an entire wardrobe and enough shoes to never wear the same pair twice in a month. Restaurants? Only the finest cuisine. She had loved those meals, the splurging for a special night out. She had no idea she’d be stuck footing the bill.