Species Traitor: A Science Fiction Dystopian Novel by Kate Mary (universal ebook reader .TXT) 📗

stopped outside my front door, and in the light from the single bulb the red paint looked twice as chipped as usual. The sand gathered on our small porch had covered the welcome mat, obscuring the W and L from view—which were the only two letters that hadn’t completely worn away.

I reached for my bag so I could retrieve my key, only to realize I didn’t have it. Shit. I’d taken it off when I got to the bar and must have left it on the floor.

“My key,” was all I managed to get out before the door was ripped open.

“Ava!” Mom’s shrill voice echoed down the street. “Where have you been?”

For once, she didn’t have a drink in her hand. It was either a miracle or the end of the fucking world.

“Out,” I mumbled as I tried to decide if her missing beverage was a blessing or a curse.

“With Ione?” Mom narrowed her eyes on my face before focusing on Dean, jerking back in surprise. “Oh.”

He flashed her a charming smile. “Sorry I kept her out so late, Mrs. Mendoza.”

How did Dean know my last name?

“That’s fine. Really, it is.” My mother flushed like a teenager under his grin and stepped back, waving for us to enter. “Come in, come in. I’m so sorry for being rude. We’ve just had some complicated family issues lately and, well, I don’t want to bore you with that. I just got worried is all.”

“Understandable.” Dean held my arm as if to help me inside, kicking the door shut behind him. “There’s a lot going on these days to worry about.”

“That there is.” My mother nodded a little too emphatically then lifted her hands and took a step back. She paused beside the kitchen counter so she could swipe her waiting drink up. Figured. “Well, I don’t want to bother you two, so I’ll just head on to bed.”

She shot me a grin as she walked by, her glass already halfway to her lips. I had to fight the urge to stick out my tongue. I knew it was childish, but I couldn’t help it.

Once we were alone, Dean smiled. “Should I help you to your room?”

“You wish.” I twisted out of his grasp, catching myself on the dining room table when I stumbled.

“Actually,” he said, “as much as I’d love to go to your room, I’d rather wait until you’re sober. Maybe, if things go well, two nights from now after our date?”

He was asking me out.

I was no longer surprised, and at the bar when we were laughing and drinking, a part of me had even wanted him to. But standing in front of him now, I found it impossible to answer right away. I couldn’t help it. Not when a pair of citrine eyes flashed through my mind. Damn that half-human asshole. How the hell had he gotten under my skin?

Dean’s smile faded but didn’t disappear. “Did I misread the situation?”

“No.” I tightened my grip on the table and pushed Finn from my mind. “I don’t know. I just—”

I paused, and Dean waited patiently, his expression not changing.

The memory of how he’d said halfling bubbled up, but so did the way he’d laughed with Rye by the end of the night and how he’d apologized for using the word in the first place. He was an okay guy, right? Finn had been correct, it was Dean’s job to keep the Veilorians inside the District, but Rye was right, too. Dean was protecting them. Making sure no crazy humans got in and blew the place up. It was necessary. It was important.

Wasn’t it?

Yes, I decided. It was. Dean’s job was one of the most important ones in the city, because without the guards at the gate, anyone would have been able to get inside the District. Who knew what would happen then? He was saving lives.

“Okay,” I said before my jumbled thoughts could flip to something else. “Yes.”

Dean’s smile widened. “Great. I can pick you up here. Eight?”

“Yes,” I said again, and his grin got even bigger.

I showed Dean out and shut the front door, leaning against it when my head swayed. It was late, and I was exhausted—I’d definitely be hung over tomorrow—but the realization that I’d forgotten my bag was the main thing on my mind. I’d have to go back to the District after work. Hopefully, the nice bartender had found it.

After a day of backbreaking work cleaning off mirrors—just like I’d thought, they’d been in bad shape from the storm—I headed for the District, feeling oddly torn when Johnson wasn’t at the gate, but not sure what any of those emotions meant.

My memories of the night before were fuzzy, which was putting it mildly, but I remembered the uncertainty of being sandwiched between him and Finn, and how the warmth of their bodies had been equally distracting and confusing. Finn’s hostility hadn’t waned, but there had been moments when he’d been almost cordial to me. Like we were acquaintances instead of strangers, or worse, enemies. Maybe I’d proven I was different than most humans, or maybe it had only been for Rye’s benefit.

Either way, the change in his attitude had made me admit something I hadn’t wanted to before. I was attracted to him. It was silly because even if he’d thawed toward me a little, there was no way he’d ever be interested. To him, the idea of humans and Veilorians being together was about as appealing as the concept of humans and the creatures living in the wastelands.

Yuck.

That mental image was something I didn’t want to even consider.

I recognized one of the guards at the gate as the new guy who’d demanded my bag be searched the other day, but the other one was a stranger. There had been a lot of new faces lately, but I wasn’t sure what that meant. Were they increasing security, or was it just the natural order of things? People got sick and couldn’t work anymore, or