Tattle Tail Read online

  “Not that one. The other one.”

  “Chase Cayne? He was a murderer!”

  “Well, we know that now, but he was very charming.”

  In an oily sort of way.

  Peaceable did not understand her mother.

  Toying with the ends of her hair, she twisted the locks in her hands. This was a distraction. She said, “Mother, I do not appreciate the trick you pulled today.”

  “What trick?” Tolerance sounded so innocent, so above suspicion.

  “Convincing Lord Resolve that I would be his…breeder,” she said, the words tasting foul.

  “There’s no need for such language, Peaceable. Try to live up to your name.”

  This was impossible.

  Nettle jumped into her lap, grabbing her attention. Tension drained as she stroked the wuap, who contentedly kneaded her paws into Peaceable’s thighs.

  “Mother, you lied to me. You said you wanted me to help plan your New Year’s Eve party.”

  “That’s been planned for ages, and if I had told you I also invited Lord Resolve, you would have canceled.”

  True.

  “He tells me you declined his offer,” Tolerance said, sounding irritated.

  “Yes, because—”

  Her mother spoke over her. “I don’t know why you’re so resistant to Lord Resolve. My family was great friends with his father’s family, and we’ve been happy for thirty years. Lord Resolve is a great friend of the family.”

  As subtle as a flick to the ear.

  “Mother, Lord Resolve is a good male, but—”

  “But what, Peaceable? Is he not distinguished enough for you? Not generous enough? He sponsored our move to Corra. Has he not done enough for the family? What more do you want, Peaceable? I do not know how you became so unreasonable when you were such an agreeable kit.”

  To marry for love.

  The sentiment was right there, but she could not speak the words.

  Sometimes, Peaceable considered changing her name. She had been born during the civil war on Talmar, and her parents wanted a name to protest that war. Over her lifetime, the meaning morphed. Her name no longer meant finding peaceful resolution, but be nice, be pleasant, be agreeable.

  Do as you are told. Do not argue.

  She loathed it.

  Marry who we say.

  “I have a fiancé,” she blurted out. Fiancé? She could have started small with a suitor, but her brain jumped straight to fiancé.

  “Oh?” Interest sparked in Tolerance’s voice. “Who is he? Who are his family? When can we meet him? You will bring him to the party, of course. I suppose we should meet him before then, to determine if he is suitable.”

  “He’s suitable,” she said, her voice sounding thin. She grimaced; her tail close to her body. She was such a terrible liar.

  “What is his name? What is his occupation?”

  “He’s a pilot,” she said, closing her eyes. The lies just kept coming.

  Tolerance made a noncommittal noise. Pilots had a reckless reputation. One particular reckless pilot sprang to her mind, along with his arrogance and an ego the size of the solar system.

  And considerate enough to leave chocolate on my desk.

  “Does this pilot have a name? How long have you been engaged? Why have you never spoken of this? Why must you be so secretive, Peaceable? Your brother does not behave like this. Armistice tells me what is happening in his life.”

  On and on, Tolerance kept asking why and who and how. Peaceable tried her best to stick to evasive answers, giving half-truths about her fictional pilot fiancé, but to no avail. Tolerance would not be satisfied with anything less than a full pedigree, medical history, and financial statements. Possibly a DNA swab too.

  Peaceable pinched the bridge of her nose, searching for patience to endure this. Finally, she could take no more. “Joseph! His name is Joseph Moonquest,” she blurted out.

  As soon as the words left her mouth, she wanted to claw them back. Joseph Moonquest? That male?

  Silence.

  “Joseph? What kind of name is that? So odd.”

  “It is a traditional human name. It means to increase.”

  Her ears went flat against her head. She didn’t know why she said that or even why she knew that. She certainly hadn’t stayed up late one night with a glass of wine and too much time on her hands, researching human biology and culture. Especially human anatomy, including informative videos of mating. It was an interesting area worth studying. Repeatedly.

  If anyone checked her network browsing history, she had scrubbed that incident clean like it never happened.

  Because it didn’t happen, and she didn’t fantasize about a certain human pilot. That also did not happen.

  Humility. Patience. Kindness. Justice. Fortitude. Prudence. Forgiveness.

  She would need to recite more than the seven virtues to get out of this situation, considering her absolute lack of prudence.

  “Mother, I must go,” she hurriedly said, then disconnected the call.

  She stroked Nettle, letting the wuap’s purr quiet her mind.

  What had she done?

  Chapter 4

  Joseph

  “Mom, no.” Mari took the crystal-encrusted candlestick holders and put them back down on the table.

  “Sunshower Marigold, yes.” Valerian grabbed the candlestick holders and handed them over to the vendor before any of her children or good taste could intervene. “Your house is so gloomy. You need something positive to align beneficial energy.”

  Sweet black oblivion of space, help him.

  Joseph flashed an apologetic smile to the vendor, who seemed to understand his plight. He had been conscripted into accompanying his mother and sister to the holiday night market to carry packages. He loved them, but they were exhausting.

  “What about that?” Marigold pointed to a set of chimes with cut-glass pendants.

  “Another wind chime? Please. You have enough chimes to furnish a symphony,” Valerian said, holding out her wrist to be scanned for payment.

  “Oh, and we need more crystals? If you want to decorate, get your own house,” his sister retorted.

  Exhausting. At least Valerian wasn’t trying to align energies in his apartment or ship.

  “I’m going to get a drink,” Joseph announced, and took off before either his mother or sister could hand him another bag to carry.

  Far enough away that he couldn’t hear Marigold and Valerian bicker, but close enough that they could fetch him, he found a stall selling hot drinks. Grabbing a nearby table, he dumped a vile amount of sugar into his coffee.

  The first sweet and bitter sip was hot enough to scald his tongue.

  Perfect.

  A cold wind stirred, blowing away the empty packets.

  Joseph shivered and adjusted the scarf around his neck.

  He liked Corra but did not particularly like the cold. Having spent his life on space stations and deep spaceships, he was completely unprepared for the practicalities of living on a planet. Open skies, unfiltered air, and so much space it unnerved him were things he dealt with. But the cold? He couldn’t uncouple a lifetime’s instinct that the cold meant something catastrophic had failed, and he needed to race against the clock to fix it before turning into a human popsicle.

  Otherwise, the weather fascinated him. He had teased Mari when she expressed the same sentiment after moving to Corra, but he got it now. Fundamentally uncontrollable and volatile, every day was different. Wild. Sometimes there was a pattern, and sometimes it changed so dramatically that forecasts might as well have been fortune-telling. Rain? Wonderful. Hot summer days? Fantastic? Crisp autumn air? Love it. Humidity? Not a huge fan, but whatever. Winter? That could fuck right off.

  Joseph glanced at his sister, still arguing with their mother.

  That he enjoyed living planetside surprised him. He thought for sure that the sedentary nature of staying in one place would bore him to tears. Truthfully, he’d lived a decade on Olympus
Station, and it was, well, stationary. He piloted a small vessel for day trips, but returned to the same station and went to sleep in the same bed. On Corra, he didn’t have to worry about exceeding his water limit or upgrading the ventilation filters to remove a stale odor from the air.

  On Corra, he had all the air he could breathe, mostly clean, so much water that it fell from the sky, and he didn’t have to share living quarters with his family. For the first time, Joseph had room to sprawl out and privacy.

  Well, he had privacy in theory. His sister married a very wealthy and infamous man. Joseph took an instant dislike to Winter Cayne, but his devotion to Marigold won him over. Winter made Mari so damn happy that Joseph had to admit that the alien grump wasn’t that bad of a guy.

  Usually.

  All that aside, the biggest complication of being in-laws with a reclusive billionaire was the constant media attention. Shortly after Chase Cayne’s arrest for the attempted murder of Marigold, the media outlets went into a frenzy trying to get anything, any scrap of information, on Winter and his new bride. Even distant relations like himself got the D-list celebrity treatment, much to his chagrin.

  Marigold hadn’t mentioned the latest headlines, so hopefully, that meant the story had been buried so far down the news feed that no one would discover it.

  “I admire your lack of self-consciousness. I’d be too mortified to show my face,” a familiar voice said.

  Peaceable sat down at the table, pushing back the pale blue fabric of her wrap. The soft material gathered around her shoulders like a hood. The cold brought color to her cheeks. Like a storybook ice princess, she looked utterly in her element.

  “And yet, here you are,” he mumbled into his coffee. Last night had…not been good. He didn’t need Perfect Peaceable to remind him of that.

  “Excessive sugar is not good for you and will only exacerbate an overhang.” She held her own steaming cup of something, probably a tea made of organic flower petals. Actually, that sounded exactly like the brews his mother poured down his throat as a kid because he had excessive bile or some such thing.

  “I don’t have a hangover,” he said pointedly. No matter what the media reported, he was not drunk last night at the club. He barely had a sip of his drink before his ex made a scene and tossed her cocktail in his face.

  She frowned, confused by her mistake. “Is it not the correct word?”

  It was petty of him to take so much delight in her mangling words, but he was a petty man. He took a sip to hide his grin and said, “I’m cold, and coffee is hot.”

  “I don’t drink coffee for ethical reasons,” Peaceable said. Her tail squirmed behind her, the only hint that she might have a mood other than vague disapproval. “Shipping from Earth takes far too many resources. I can’t support such waste.”

  “What about the locally grown stuff?”

  “It’s an invasive species.”

  Joseph rolled his eyes. “Are you a vegetarian too?”

  “Actually, no, but I prefer to eat from ethically sourced local suppliers.”

  “How about kave? It’s a Corravian product,” he said and pointed to a stand with a short line. The brew was almost like coffee, the same way a diet soda was almost like the full-sugar version. Still, better than nothing.

  “I enjoy my herbal tea, thank you,” Peaceable said, head down and murmuring into her cup.

  She glanced up, her eyes a striking gold, then glanced down again. The warm string lights cast a soft glow on her amber complexion. Dark amber hair spilled over her shoulders, and her ears flicked back and forth, listening to the crowd.

  Joseph found her attractive. Of course he did—he had eyes. No matter how she irritated him, he could admit that she ticked off the boxes for conventional beauty on any planet. More irritating was the fact that she was nice. Disgustingly so. Nothing got a rise out of her or disturbed her calm, cool exterior. Unflappable, that was the word.

  Which made him want to ruffle her feathers all the more.

  In the last two years, they ran afoul of each other. Technically coworkers, he ran into her more in social situations than in the employee break room. They seemed to have this pattern. Joseph had an opinion. Peaceable had a differing opinion that somehow had an air of moral superiority and managed to be as bland as space dust at the same time. It was a weird dance that provoked the worst in him.

  Speaking of, if he could stop being an ass for half a minute…

  “Are you shopping for yourself or family?” he asked, trying this new thing called politeness.

  “I am with my mother, but I am looking for a gift for my parents.” Her shoulders slumped in something like defeat as she spoke. “They are the most difficult to purchase a gift for.”

  “Difficult because they have everything they need or difficult because they’re picky?” he asked, even though he already suspected the answer.

  “Yes,” she said.

  Ah. Perfect Peaceable had emerged from a pressure cooker of parents demanding perfection. Sympathy stirred in Joseph. Not that Valerian had been the sort to demand perfect grades or anything more than his best effort, but he understood not wanting to disappoint loved ones.

  “My mother is also difficult to shop for,” he said. Her ears moved forward, indicating that he had her attention. He continued, “She has so many new interests that if I purchase organic wool for her loom, she’s moved onto the next thing. I realized it was better to give an experience, rather than something that’ll collect dust.”

  “An experience…” Her voice trailed off, thinking. “I do not know that I can afford to send them on a trip, but the thought is pleasant.”

  “It doesn’t have to be a trip. Maybe dinner at a restaurant they love or always wanted to try. A show? A tour of…” He fumbled for something that classy people toured. “Gardens?”

  “Gardens? In winter?”

  “There has to be an ice sculpture garden somewhere. That’s a thing that planets have.”

  Her tail waved behind her, and her lips pulled back just enough to expose a bit of fang. “That is a thing that planets have, yes.”

  “Hey, don’t mock me. I’m trying to be helpful. There are plenty of other perfectly valid reasons to mock me.” He smiled, almost enjoying himself.

  Peaceable waved to someone in the distance. Her posture changed; the playfulness was gone. “Thank you for your wisdom, Joseph. I will consider your words, but I must rejoin my mother.”

  Peaceable

  Too late. Tolerance spotted Peaceable chatting with Joseph. Drawn like a predator circling prey, the older woman pounced.

  “Who is this? Is this the male?” Tolerance’s posture was friendly and open, her ears alert and her tail swaying, but her eyes were hard.

  Peaceable jolted from the table, standing stiff as if for inspection. Her tail slinked low. “Mother, this is Joseph Moonquest. My…my fiancé.”

  Joseph and Tolerance both gasped.

  “Fiancé?” He blinked.

  “Yes, my fi…fiancé,” she said, stumbling over her own lie.

  She closed her eyes. The lie was out now. The truth would follow, and she’d have to explain to her mother that she panicked and—

  “I thought we were going to wait to make the announcement, sweet pea,” Joseph said, a huge grin on his face.

  “We were?” Peaceable asked, confused at his response.

  “You got excited, didn’t you?” He slung an arm around her, casually, as if this level of touching was normal.

  Tolerance’s eyes were huge. Her tail twitched back and forth. Peaceable had no idea if her mother was excited or annoyed.

  “It is my fault,” Tolerance said. “I pressured her until she told the truth.”

  “The truth,” Joseph said, slowly turning his head as he dragged out the word. “What an interesting concept.”

  Peaceable wanted to hide her face, change her name, flee the planet, and start a new life on a distant asteroid.

  “You didn’t tell me your mom was her
e, sweet pea.” Joseph pulled her against his body, squeezing. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Daval.”

  He extended his right hand in the human greeting. Tolerance blinked, then touched her palm against his.

  “Sorry, humans shake hands when introduced.” He wrapped his hand around Tolerance’s and gave it two pumps.

  “That does not seem hygienic.” Tolerance indiscreetly wiped her hand against her wrap.

  Joseph, to his credit, ignored the insult. “That is a charming color. I see where my sweet pea gets her impeccable style.”

  “Thank you.” Tolerance plucked at the plush cream-colored fabric of the wrap. Iridescent strand had been woven into the knit, letting it sparkle like moonlight on snow. “How long have you known my daughter?”

  “Two years now, and she’s full of surprises. I’m discovering exciting things every day,” he said.

  “We work together,” Peaceable added.

  “And you are a pilot?” Tolerance’s tone sounded unimpressed as she frowned.

  “Yup, just like my dad. I ran cargo for the family business, but now I’m a CayneTech flyer.” Joseph seemed immune to Tolerance’s frown. Perhaps he was used to parental disapproval, or he did not care. He needed to share his secret of indifference with Peaceable.

  Tolerance sniffed. “You will join us for dinner tomorrow.”

  Translation: Peaceable’s parents would interrogate Joseph. Food might be present.

  “He cannot,” she said quickly, speaking over Joseph so that he would be unable to accept. “He will be on a supply run tomorrow.”

  Another lie. They seemed unavoidable now.

  “The next night then,” Tolerance said.

  “I should be back,” he said slowly, watching Peaceable’s reaction as he spoke.

  She nodded. The delay would give them time to prepare. For what, she didn’t really know.

  “Do not let us intrude on your plans. We should go,” she said, pulling away.

  “No kiss?” he asked. His eyes gleamed with amusement.

  “A kiss?”

  “That’s what people do when they’re engaged.” The challenge was in his voice, daring her for a kiss.