Species Traitor: A Science Fiction Dystopian Novel by Kate Mary (books to read to get smarter txt) 📕

Since I had no bag this time, all I had to do was allow Brentwood to scan my chip, and in seconds I was inside the District.

Like every other day, stepping through the gate felt like walking into another world. It was amazing how the makeshift walls could block out the sounds of the city. Not completely, that would have been impossible, but the noises were muted so it seemed as if the human world was miles away instead of just beyond the wall.

I made my way to the bar without seeing anyone I recognized, arriving to find the same Veilorian man from the night before behind the counter. He smiled when our eyes met, a gesture that was warm and welcoming and more open than anything any of the humans I’d seen today had offered me.

“I bet I know why you’re here,” he said.

“I think,” I began almost shyly, “I might have forgotten something last night.”

“I think you did,” he replied.

Like the night before, he gave me a wink that made it seem like we were in on a secret no one else knew, and I laughed.

“I was a little drunk.”

“You were, but you did okay. Most humans as small as you can’t hold their Veilorian rum.”

The man had about ten years on me, but the appreciation in his pale purple eyes when he looked me over was obvious. It caused a flush to move up my neck to my cheeks as I shifted my feet. I was what you’d call very curvy, especially compared to the women of his species, and while I was used to looks like this when I was in the District, they never failed to make me blush.

As if catching himself checking me out, the bartender shook his head and chuckled quietly to himself. “Sorry. It’s just that human women are…” He shrugged, still smiling.

“I’m used to it,” I said even as my cheeks burned hotter. “Anyway, I just came for my bag.”

“I figured.” The bartender busied himself cleaning the counter almost like it was the only thing he could do to stop himself from once again checking out my curves. “I don’t have it, though. Your friend took it.”

“Oh,” I said, not necessarily surprised.

I should have known Rye and Ione would take it home if they found it.

“Finn,” the bartender added.

I froze for a second, confused. “Finn?”

“Yeah. The half-Veilorian. He came back after everyone else left and was the one who found it, so he took it home.”

Finn had taken my bag.

I couldn’t understand why he hadn’t given it to Rye, unless his cousin had already dragged Ione home. She’d probably had about as much to drink as I had—and she was a lot smaller than I was—so it made sense.

It was a relief to know my bag was safe, but there was one problem.

“I don’t know where he lives,” I said, frowning.

The bartender looked up from the now immaculate counter. “I can tell you.”

“You can?” I asked, perking up.

“The District isn’t that big,” he said, still smiling.

I loved how friendly everyone here was.

I took mental notes as he relayed how to get to Finn’s place. Since most of the houses in the District towered over the road, there were no street names, but the staircases and walkways were numbered, as were the houses. It had taken me a while to get used to the system, but thanks to the numerous occasions I’d had to find my way to Rye’s house, I was now pretty familiar with how it worked and felt confident I could find Finn’s place with no problem.

Once the bartender had given me directions, I thanked him and headed out, aware of his hot gaze on my backside as I crossed the empty bar.

Outside, I made my way to the staircase I’d been directed to and climbed to the first walkway. Both were covered in sand from the previous night’s storm, but already the District looked cleaner than the human part of the city did. Veilorians were hard workers.

I turned left, crossing walkway number sixteen before heading down twenty-three. The bartender had told me Finn’s house was number one twenty-four, and like I’d thought, I found it with no problem. But it wasn’t until I was standing outside the closed door that the nerves started. I wasn’t sure if Finn had meant for me to come here. Maybe he’d already dropped my bag off with Ione so she could return it to me. Maybe he’d thrown it in the trash just to show me how much he disliked humans. It was unlikely, considering how much Veilorians hated waste, but I couldn’t discount the idea completely when I thought about his hostility toward me the first time we met.

Gathering all my courage, I forced myself to knock on the closed door. Three gentle raps, and I dropped my arm to my side, not uncurling my fingers as I waited for the door to open. A few seconds passed and nothing happened, and I began to wonder if he might be at work—he must have a job—when a faint reply penetrated the barrier.

“Coming!”

I leaned forward on instinct and pressed my ear against the closed door. There was movement on the other side, followed by footsteps. Beyond that the faint sound of a viewing screen or possibly even a broadcaster was audible, and I thought I could even make out the voice of Karl Winters.

My ear was still pressed against the door as I strained to hear when it was suddenly pulled open. Caught off guard, I stumbled forward, and my hands went up as I tried to brace myself, and I found my palms pressed against a very firm—and very bare—chest. What sounded like a half-gasp, half-yelp burst out of me as I tried to back up, but in his surprise Finn had reached out to stop me from falling and now had his arms around me, making it impossible to extract myself