Destiny's Blood by Marie Bilodeau (superbooks4u txt) 📕

to Layela: that Yoma probably had no intention of giving up her old ways as she had promised Layela she would, and that she was planning something probably stupid and more than likely dangerous.

“I’d have announced my presence sooner, but I was enjoying your singing,” Josmere said with a slight grin, her eyes searching out Layela’s.

“Why don’t I believe your showing up here is a coincidence?” Layela snapped, walking towards the cash register to tally the day’s sales.

Josmere’s confusion did nothing to calm Layela. “What do you mean, coincidence?”

Layela shook her head, not willing to play along. She used to, when she was younger and more stupid. She had also once convinced herself that her sister would give up thieving, and that her powers of vision could be of use.

But not this time. She wanted nothing to do with whatever scheme they were involved in. She just wanted Josmere to leave and never come again. To leave her in peace with her flowers and satisfaction, without interference, without intrigue and without illegal activities. Visions tugged at her mind, refusing to show themselves but refusing to stay silent.

“Where’s Yoma?” Josmere finally asked.

Layela looked up, disbelief pulsing through her like venom. But the green eyes looking back at her were sincere and lined with concern. If nothing else, after being tricked so often, Layela had learned how to tell when Josmere and Yoma were lying. They hadn’t always excluded her, after all. Layela had been hurt badly a few years ago, and it had taken her months to recover. Ever since then, her sister and Josmere had been secretive, as though her protection relied on her knowing less.

“What do you mean, you don’t know?” Layela asked, her voice rising. “She left this morning without a word, and I haven’t seen her since. And now you’re here? Come on, Josmere, you can’t expect me to believe that you don’t know anything about this!”

“I was supposed to meet her here today,” the Berganda responded, her head shaking her loose hair back and forth, intensity dripping from every word. “Here. Now. She’s supposed to be here, Layl.”

“What were you two planning that’s so important?” Layela demanded. In all of the years that she, her sister and Josmere had survived together, never once had she known Yoma and Josmere to miss a set meeting. It was a practice that had saved their lives on more than one occasion.

Josmere shrugged and focused on some Booknot plants. They were well known for their sentient qualities, and were by far her favourite type of plant life. As a Berganda, Josmere had the ability to communicate telepathically with others from her race and with certain types of plant.

“They’re very happy here,” Josmere said, smiling at the plants. Layela resisted the urge to hit the woman in the back of the head. She had tried that too, once, and had learned that Josmere was not as weak as she looked.

“You can have them, if you’d like,” Layela said, keeping her hands busy rearranging some blue flowers with rotating hearts. “It’s illegal to sell them in these parts, since they’re sentient, but I had to buy them when some smugglers brought them in. The poor things needed a lot of care. Kind of like a Berganda would, were she to be beaten up by her friend.”

Josmere ignored Layela’s sarcastic comment, making Layela even angrier. “I think they’re fine here,” Josmere looked around the shop some more, her careful steps telling Layela that she was deciding what to do next.

Josmere stopped before some blooms kept in a locked glass case.

“Pomboms? You keep Pomboms in your shop?” Josmere asked, shooting an incredulous look at Layela, who simply shrugged.

“They’re safe enough behind the glass, and in another two nights they won’t be explosive anymore. They’ll bloom beautifully and sell well.” Josmere shot her a grin and continued looking around. Layela felt her patience dripping faster than the ink from the pen with which she was tallying sales.

Layela sighed. There was no use pushing for information, and if she kept Josmere close, then chances were she would see Yoma again soon. And then she could beat them both up.

Three loud knocks sounded on the protective outside metal door, scattering her thoughts.

Josmere reacted instinctively and was beside the door in moments, looking through a small window.

“Josmere, we’re not on the streets anymore,” Layela said, annoyed. “Normal people don’t do that. They open the door.”

“They don’t look friendly to me,” Josmere whispered, backing away out of sight. Layela sighed and opened the door, making sure not to show any hesitation to Josmere. Over. It was over, this life of running and hiding. It was why they had founded Sunrise Flowers — to mark the beginning of a new life. She had never before thought that she might have to pursue her dream alone. She clutched the side of the door, fighting the hollowness in her stomach.

Three men stood in the doorway. One, she guessed, was a government official, dressed in an expensive suit with an air to match it, fatigue plastered in the dark rims under his eyes and in the sparse growth of his beard. He jingled keys in his hands. The two others were marked by dark smoky uniforms and a sun symbol. Layela swallowed hard. Solarian soldiers had full jurisdiction on Collar.

She forced herself to keep her ground, her feet aching with the need to back up, to move, to run away. Every encounter she had ever had with Solarian soldiers had not been pleasant.

“Layela Delamores?” the government official asked, flashing his badge at her. Layela barely had the time to read his name, Coyal something or other, from the Ministry of Solarian Defence.

She smiled and nodded. She was not a criminal. She was a business owner. A flower shop owner. There was no need to act like anything else.

“May I see your Interplanetary Passport?”

No introduction, no hellos. It seemed like an arrest, but all they wanted was to see her passport, and the soldiers were not