Hostile Genus: An Epic Military Sci-Fi Series (Invasive Species Book 2) Ben Stevens (best contemporary novels txt) 📖

mirror with gratitude in her eyes. This gaze into the mirror lingered longer than the first had, and when she saw Maya’s look of affection waiting for her, she smiled and nearly blushed.

“As you wish, Señorita, thank you.” Rose made a quick, jerky, polite bow and left the dressing room, pulling the door shut behind her.

As soon as the door closed, Maya exhaled, and her smile deflated along with her lungs.

Exhausting. Exhausting and nerve-wracking. It will all be over soon, for better or for worse.

She looked at herself in the mirror, looked at the girl behind the makeup and thought about Jon, and also about her late husband. She sat motionless for a solid minute and then finally took a breath as deep as her silent musings. She let it out forcefully through pursed lips.

Well, here goes. We are doing the right thing, aren’t we? It’s worth the risk. Both to us, and the people of New Puebla. It must be done; otherwise, what is the point of any of this?

She gingerly reached down and touched the necklace Ratt had made, hanging around her neck like the mantle of responsibility she and her guardians had taken up two days ago. She ran her fingers along the contours of the inlaid jewel and sent out a wordless prayer.

Then she clutched it and raised it to her mouth.

“Okay, boys. It’s showtime.” Another prayer. She had trusted so much to fate before.

Please let Jon be listening and watching. And please protect him now more than ever.

A knock came at her door, and it opened before she could speak. Lucy.

“My lady, we are ready.”

Maya wondered to herself if Lucy’s heart was as wild as hers. Lucy had always oozed cool, but was that chilly exterior just a defense?

Maya knew this to be true, had seen into the girl’s heart the day they’d met, the day she had freed her the way that they would free the people of New Puebla together tonight. But did Lucy have the same reservations about their plan? Did she worry for Carbine as Maya worried for Jon? Maya knew that Lucy was prepared to die if need be, but Maya wished not to if it was at all possible, and if death was their fate, would Lucy think it had been worth it, as Maya did? Some questions were better left unasked. Maya had only to look into her guardian’s eyes to know that Lucy was content—no, more than that—she was fulfilled to simply serve her lady.

“Feroz Pantera.” Maya turned away from the mirror, spinning in her chair to gaze upon Lucy. “I love you.”

Lucy nodded her head almost imperceptibly, stepped to the side, and held the door open for Maya.

“I love you too, my lady.”

Was there a more perfect place for a goddess than on a stage, in front of thousands of screaming fans? Were the audience’s rabid adorations not some kind of worship? Did the masses not idolize their celebrities? The arrangement was perfect and very befitting of gods and men. Or in this case, goddess and vampire.

Maya was thrilled to be in the limelight again. The sounds of the roaring cheers, the blissed-out looks of fans in the front rows, the constellations of lighters in the dark, the light-show production, the smells coming from the food court and writhing sea of humanity. And above it all, she was there in the center, on the pedestal, being worshiped.

Maya was a goddess of song, always had been, and always would be. She was its living embodiment. She used song to shape Strange. As she strung a melody together, she was capable of voicing an incantation that moved the spheres of the cosmos as well as touched the hearts and minds of men. She was a musician, a performer, and performers needed an audience like… well, like a god needs worshipers.

Add to all that her persona as Lily Sapphire and the doors that it opened. They were the perfect front for a prominent leader in the Resistance and a situation that was as perfect for Maya as she hoped tonight’s plan would be.

Each show was like a living thing. It had its own flavor, its own personality. Like the varying cuisines of the different regions within a nation or culture, the shows she performed could be similar in many ways, but each had its certain uniqueness. The undercurrent of excitement running through the ether this night was strong, and its scent carried a top note of nervousness. She hadn’t felt nearly this skittish when she had walked onto that stage in Home, knowing full well that she was going to be arrested and imprisoned by the Ministry of Social Purity. She had been calm then, confident in the manifestation of her destiny. She’d known without a shadow of a doubt that Lucy would find Jon, and all would work out as it did.

Tonight, however… Tonight was different. This hadn’t been in the big plan. This was a segue, an impromptu pièce de résistance, a spontaneous coup d’état. Something didn’t sit right with her, though she couldn’t put her finger on it. Something kept reminding her of her late husband.

What is it? she had thought as she’d walked, not even realizing she had finished her stroll up the back ramp from the green room area and reached the zenith of the stage. Ratt had noticed, however, and had lit her up with his floodlights, provoking a cheer from the crowd and snapping her out of her troubled daydream.

The show must go on.

Ratt had killed the spotlights as quickly as he had turned them on. A few beats of darkness, its black void filled with the cheers, applause, and whistles of the crowd, and then a dizzying array of colorful lights had sprayed across the city center as Ratt dropped the beat. With that, the show had kicked off.

Maya gave as good as she got. Her performance for the vampires and their human slaves was every bit the equal