Page 33 of Black Mamba

I must show her she does not need to fear me.

I must show her she can trust me to take care of her. I must be convenient.

I cannot lose her. Not when I can prevent it.

SEVENTEEN

HAZY DREAMS

Elena

“Hey, sis, are you coming to hear me sing tonight?” Jenna tugs up her bustier, plumping the tops of her breasts. She’s wearing a sparkly midnight blue gown with a slit up the side.

“No,” I mutter, looking back down at my tablet and scrolling through several more commercial space listings. For the past two months I have been waiting for a store unit to hit the market, a spot in one of the higher caste commercial wards just off the main hallways. A place near enough to the shops and restaurants that is also close to the business sectors that are located a short distance away. A spot like that will go fast, and my realtor doesn’t always do her due diligence.

So, I have too.

I’m hoping for a small place, something manageable with just a couple of employees. My inheritance is limited and I want to invest wisely. I might not make the type of money my parents want me to make, but I’ll be happy. I don’t need much. I’ve never needed much.

Growing up as a talentless child next to one who is very talented has made me appreciate how wonderful it truly is to be in the shadows.

Nearly everyone in the upper castes on The Dreadnaut knows my sister. She’s beloved. But they don’t know me, and having been witness to the dark side of my sister’s fame—the stalkers—I want to keep it that way. Thankfully, my sister’s long-term boyfriend has enough money to provide her round-the-clock security detail.

I don’t have security detail—nor do I want to ever have the need to pay for them.

Tea is safe. It calms people. It invigorates them. It doesn’t need security.

Jenna sighs. Looking up from my screen once more, I pick up my cup and take a small sip of sapphire dew, giving her the attention she craves.

“You never come these days,” she whines. “We rarely spend time together anymore.”

I set down my cup, and cross my arms, only to cringe when pain floods me. Reaching up to rub my right shoulder, the pain within it fades. Weird.

“You’ve been singing every evening and have been with Mateo the rest of the time. And you know my opinion on the first. It’s getting dangerous out there. I mean,” I wave my hand at her, “it has always been a little dangerous for you. But outside your stalkers, the people in the lower castes are mad.”

“Mateo hired the best security team on the ship—and it’s not like I sing on the lower floors. We’re on floor seventeen tonight, which is perfectly safe and far from the dregs.”

How can I tell her I don’t want to go because being in her world makes me miserable? How can I put it into words that I’m willing to sacrifice our relationship for my own mental health?

I’ll never be like my sister. I’ll never be as good at anything as her. I learned at a very early age that we’re opposites in every way possible.

I turn away and look down at my screen. “I can’t. I’m waiting for a comm from my realtor.”

“You haven’t seen me sing in nine months…”

I wince at the pain in her voice. She groans, pivots, and leaves our parents’ unit behind to enter the embrace of her security team and friends awaiting her outside. Catching her gaze for a final, brief moment, my shoulders sag in relief when she’s gone.

I feel guilty but the guilt isn’t enough to put myself in uncomfortable, potentially unsafe, positions.

Catching a whiff of something in the air, my nostrils flare. Ilubriam chocolate?

The pain in my shoulder comes roaring back, and as I reach out to grasp it, I find my other arm trapped. The room around me gets yanked away and the room within my parents’ ship appears in its stead. There are people surrounding me. I’m on my bed.

Hissing fills my ears, voices. “Gentle!”

I cry out and thrash my legs, trying to turn to my side as someone pulls my arm hard, then begins to roll it. As the pain in my shoulder eases, my vision clears to announce an even worse pain in my head. I wince, hard.

“Her shoulder’s back in,” a man to my right says. “It’ll feel raw for her for a few weeks. Where’s her brother? I thought she said she had a brother?”