Homecoming - Page 3

CHAPTER 2

I knew Fiona came from money, but I don’t think I understood exactly how much money.

The shuttle shakes a little as we enter Earth’s atmosphere and head toward her father’s estate, turning on cloaking as we descend toward the woods on the north side of the property. It’s been well over two decades since I was last in Atlanta--since I was on Earth at all--and things have changed since then. The city has gotten bigger, taller, the cars boxier and sharper. I’m struck with the bizarre sensation of having traveled through time, and my heart hammers in my chest at the prospect of coming home after all these years.

I don’t want to be here.

I don’t want to be flying over this sprawling estate, looking at an old plantation house and thinking about all the ways that Earth is just as bad as the Merati Kingdom. I don’t want to be setting down in the woods to feel the balmy humidity of the Deep South, to deal with the bigoted people I know we’re going to meet. I can’t imagine Fiona’s father is going to be thrilled at her sudden arrival with not one, but two boyfriends: one of whom is a devastatingly pretty man with lots of jewelry, and the other of whom is ten years her senior and, even worse, not white.

Fucking Earth. Why did I come back here again?

Oh yeah.

Because Nereus wants to “do this right,”--whatever that means--and I made the foolish mistake of giving him the idea of asking the distinguished Governor Ward for Fiona’s hand in marriage. It’s stupid and antiquated, and we’ve already shared every private thought and deed with each other...but Nereus insists. It’s amazing to me how the Merati prince manages to care so much about ceremony and propriety when he’s been on the run this long.

But here we are. About to meet the parents.

...this is not going to go well.

I make my way to the aft of the ship, where Fiona and Nereus are sorting through their belongings and packing a suitcase. We managed to find some human clothes and luggage on our last stop at a waystation, and Fiona is in the process of dressing Nereus, despite his protests. She’s got him in jeans and a tucked in white button-up, a violet blazer completing the look--with the collar popped to hide his gills. He wrinkles his nose at his reflection in the mirror as I lean against the door frame, crossing my arms to watch them.

“I don’t understand human clothes,” Nereus complains as Fiona tousles his hair. “How does this compliment the grace of the human form?”

“You look hot, trust me,” she says.

He does. I didn’t expect human fashion to suit him so much--I like how he normally dresses, but understated works for him. The glimmer in his eyes, his high cheekbones framed by his long auburn looks, it’s making it hard for me to drag my gaze away from his face.

“Like a somewhat respectable, if still flamboyant, gentleman,” Fiona says and I look at her when I hear the sound of her voice.

She’s frowning, her mouth half-open as her eyes narrow while she looks at him, soft color in her cheeks. She fiddles with a series of gold rings bound into the loose braids in his auburn hair, and I can tell she’s trying to figure out how much is too much when it comes to his jewelry. He’s usually decked out in tight, bright clothes and gold cuffs, and this feels all wrong on him.

“If you insist on meeting my father, there are certain things we have to do to avoid unwanted attention,” she says, tilting her face up to meet his gaze and flashing him a sweet smile. I can see a flicker of desire in her hazel eyes even from where I’m standing, but there’s something else to this. It feels intimate, bordering on domestic. I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel about it, but it makes my heart race. “If you want him to talk to you at all, you’re going to have to dress at least a little like a human.”

“I thought you’d be looking forward to scandalizing the governor,” I pipe up from the door.

She rolls her eyes at me, smoothing her hands over Nereus’s chest as he pulls her in close. She’s wearing a plain black dress that hangs in all the right places on her curves, and Nereus drags his palms down her waist to rest on her hips. He presses a kiss to her throat, his eyes locking on mine and sending a jolt of arousal through me.

But Fiona isn’t distracted. After several months together, she’s immune to our charms. The more I get to know her, the more I realize what a no-bullshit girl she is, a trait I’ve come to admire.

“I want to offend him, not give him an aneurysm,” she scowls, though her voice is just a little breathier than it was before. “I may not like my father, but I don’t want him dead. And I can’t imagine we want the attention it might draw if aliens killed the governor of Georgia.”

“You’d be surprised how little the rest of the galaxy cares about human governors,” Nereus says. “We won’t be noticed.”

She narrows her eyes at him and steps gingerly away, brushing her hands back through her dark hair. Nereus has this way of putting his foot in his mouth that somehow still surprises me.

“And what about your mother?” Nereus asks. “Are you sure you’ll be safe?”

“Like I told you, stepmothers don’t just murder their stepchildren on Earth...or at least, not usually,” Fiona says. “I’m looking forward to a little unpleasantness, but nothing else. I hope.”

It’s on that less than optimistic note that we leave the shuttle in the woods, cloaking it with the press of a button on my wrist before we head toward the manor. It appears in all its glory in the moonlight, glowing lamps decorating the promenade and the whole house lit up with golden twinkle lights. It should be festive, but it strikes me with a sense of dread. I can feel the grass crunching under me as we walk slowly, the sound of voices coming from the manor. There are so many familiar smells, too, scents that used to make me happy but now make me feel a little sick.

I can smell food and blooming flowers. I can practically taste the cigarette smoke even from where we are and it’s nauseating, but I can also feel the wind on me, flies and mosquitoes buzzing around me. They’re on my skin, my actual skin, and I don’t want to bat them away, even though I probably should.

I’m letting my senses take over because I don’t want to think. It’s all too much.

I haven’t met a girlfriend’s parents in well over ten years. I haven’t been to a party in ten years.

Wait. There wasn’t supposed to be a party tonight.

But there definitely is: people in fancy clothes mill around on the front lawn in the Georgia winter chill, fur coats and shoulder pads standing out from the crowd. Some of the people are wearing diamond necklaces and rings so big that I can see their sparkle all the way from here.

“Uh…” I start. “Did you know that all these people were going to be here?”

“Shit,” Fiona curses. “No, I didn’t. But I should have known.”

“What’s wrong?” Nereus asks, and I’m not sure if we need to explain the concept of a party to him.

“Looks like we’re about to crash my father’s annual holiday ball,” she says. “Hope you’re ready.”

Tags: Clarissa Bright Science Fiction
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