Though she ached to slam it, Shohn Lexius eased her office door shut, then took a civil and polite step back. Hissing, she swiped the air with her claws and stuck the smallest ones straight up.
Claws retracted, she stalked to the narrow window, braced her hands on the sill and pressed her forehead to the glass. The spring sun offered no heat. And why? Because on human worlds, builders installed special glass so their precious little sun wouldn't hurt their precious fragile skin.
Humans. Honestly.
Oh, all right, she'd admit human skin was sleek. Nice to stroke. She even liked its smoothness against her tongue, but come on. Would it hurt so much to let in a little heat?
Humans protected themselves from such trivial 'dangers' as sunbeams. On this world, indoor temperatures never fluctuated. And forget opening a window.
Not on the seventieth floor of the city's tallest building.
She laid back her ears, aching for the fresh air of her homeworld. The freedom of a hynder beneath her, galloping full speed in sunshine along the beach. Charging through the forests, cantering in the rain. A purr rumbled in her chest at the memories.
Working up an honest sweat mucking out stalls, tending the stock, shoulder to shoulder with family, everyone laughing and singing. Accepting her word that when she asked for something, she should get it. No one telling her how much money she could spend or asking why she needed it. She reined in her thoughts. That was her old self talking.
The person of privilege her family had reared her to be, not the fighter for equality she'd become. Sometimes, though, living off-world rankled. Here she was, a Kin warrior with the honor blade at her side to prove it, stuck working in a human-oriented office on the capitol planet of what she'd once considered her people's enemy.
Well, she'd brought this on herself, hadn't she? She'd left her homeworld of her own accord. It was her fault she spent every day with round-eyed humans whose ears could hear a third less than her own. A race oblivious to the overpowering reek of its own species.
Not that humans stank, individually. At least, not once they shed themselves of the cloud of cleaners and so-called deodorizers that added more scent to what was already there. But put a crowd of 'clean' humans in a room?
She hissed at the thought.
A Kin's sense of kahlah caught the scent of human lies no matter how small. A handy skill during interrogations. She knew before a human spoke if they would try to pull a fast one, and they all tried. As for the tartness of their fear, well, a clawed Kin had better get used to that pretty fast, because a fanged smile was no help whatsoever.
A knock at the door pulled her back to here and now. She picked up a notereader tablet and fanned herself, dispersing any scent of frustration she might have released.
After straightening her green-and-black uniform jacket, she squared her shoulders. "Come."
