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Ashrael made a gesture with his hand. “Please. Finish what you’re doing. We will talk when you have a moment. If you’re going to be busy for a while, just tell me when to come back.”
She spun the chair completely until she was facing him. “Just give me a sec.” Then she spun, quickly fed some instructions to her console, and turned around again, giving him her full, undivided attention.
Amusement flickered inside him. She was Rykal’s mate; the order to the First Division warrior’s mischief and chaos.
“I presume you aren’t looking for Rykal, because you would’ve gone and sought him out directly. And it must be important, because you’ve come to speak with me in person.” She clasped her hands together and smiled, the curiosity never leaving her crystalline blue eyes. “So, how can I be of assistance, Ashrael?”
He understood why this female was the perfect match for the free-spirited Rykal. Although the warrior was highly professional and ruthlessly efficient whenever they worked alongside each other, he had an impulsive streak that could get him into trouble if he didn’t have anyone to temper him.
Speak of the demon himself…
Ashrael went perfectly still as he sensed a presence. He made sure that his hands were hanging loosely by his sides so as to appear as unthreatening as possible.
“Well, well. If it isn’t my favorite silent killer.” Rykal sauntered into the room. He was clad in his work attire; form-fitting obsidian armor comprised of millions of microscopic nanites. “To what do we owe the pleasure of your esteemed presence?”
Although Rykal’s tone was jovial, Ashrael couldn’t miss the threatening edge in his voice. It was a silent, instinctive warning, triggered by the fact that he was in close proximity to Rykal’s mate.
Ash couldn’t blame him for that, either. He’d feel the same way if one of the First Division warriors sought out Noa, even if he understood that they would never harm her.
He waited until Rykal reached Arin’s side and placed a possessive hand on her shoulder. In turn, the human gave her mate an indulgent look. “Don’t mind him, Ash. He’s just skulking around because he’s got nobody to play with.”
“A sparring session would solve that problem,” Ashrael said mildly, and Rykal’s gaze turned sharp with anticipation. “But first, I need to rely on Arin’s expertise.”
“I’m all ears,” Arin said lightly, giving Rykal a look that was decipherable only to him; a silent communication.
“I need your assistance to reach a supplier on Earth.”
“Oh? Color me intrigued. Of course I can help. Mind telling me what it’s for?”
Ashrael didn’t know why he suddenly felt hesitant. What was this slight burning sensation in his chest? “It’s the rotation of my mate’s birth soon. I want to source her a specific gift, but it involves contacting a certain supplier on Earth. It would be better if someone familiar with human customs could make the initial inquiry.”
“Oh, how sweet.” Arin beamed. “Of course I’ll help you. Just give me the supplier’s details. I’ll sort everything out.”
“Just make the initial contact. Find out about their availability and receptiveness.”
“What kind of business is it?”
“The human’s name isCaity Silvester.She’s apparently an expert in the repair and maintenance of wooden musical instruments.Pianos.”
“You’re going to get her a piano?” Arin’s eyes widened in surprise. “That’s very thoughtful of you, Ash. I’d be delighted to help.”
He didn’t know why the tightness in his chest was intensifying, or why there was a mild feeling of heat in the tips of his ears. Of course, they didn’t know that. On the outside, Ashrael always kept his reactions carefully controlled.
Rykal was looking at him strangely, as if he’d sprouted three horns. “The things they make us do, hmm?”he said in Kordolian.
Ashrael shared a wry look with the warrior. He knew exactly what Rykal meant. Never in a billion light-revolutions could he have conceived that he would be going to such effort to procure a simple wooden instrument for a human.
Only, thesepianoswere actually anything but simple. “Do you know anything aboutpianos,Arin?"
She leaned back as Rykal linked his hand with hers; an unconscious gesture of effortless affection. “Well, I’m no expert like Noali, but I do know that some of—the old, rare ones—are extremely valuable. Wealthy people collect them. They’ll pay astronomical amounts of money just to have an authenticChroustor something sitting in their living room, even though they have no idea how to play it. It’s similar to the way people collect mechanical watches. There’s a certain romantic nostalgia people have about life before technology. That’s what makes these things so valuable.”
Ashrael still didn’t entirely understand; he just accepted that it was ahumanthing. “I want to select from only the finest models. Money is no object.” After all, he was independently wealthy—he didn’t have to rely on Tarak or the Darkstar Corporation for credits.
When he’d carried out assassinations for the empire, he’d often come across significant riches in the vicinity of his victims. When the Mistress wasn’t watching, he’d managed to hide some of those riches—credit chips, gems, minerals—in secret stashes on various planets around the Nine Galaxies.
Even back then, a tiny part of him had hoped that he’d break free.
How prophetic that had turned out to be.
