She adjusted the silver visor over her eyes, scanning the crowd. She wasn’t looking for trouble; she was looking for a specific kind of electricity.
He didn't move, but the temperature in the room seemed to spike. "That’s a dangerous curiosity, Amala. Some things are better left as theories."
Under the violet glow of a tri-sun setting, the skyline of the capital city stretched upward like jagged obsidian shards. It was a world where desire was a currency more valuable than gold, and tonight, the exchange rate was peaking.
"I had to bypass the sector-seven security grid," he replied, his voice a gravelly contrast to her silk. "And you know how the peacekeepers feel about unauthorized tele-transportation."
She leaned in, her breath warm against the cool metal of his collar. "I need to know what you're really here for. Not the mission. Not the data. I want to know the frequency you vibrate on when no one is watching."
"I didn't call you here for a report on the grid," she said, her eyes trailing over the sharp lines of his jaw. "I’m restless. The kind of restless that doesn't go away with a drink or a dance."
"Show me," she challenged, her voice dropping to a low, intimate frequency. "Show me what's behind the protocol. I’ve heard the rumors about your kind. I need to know if the reality lives up to the hype."