Star Wars_ Coruscant Nights II Streets of Shadows - Michael Reaves [87]
“Good call.” Den was visibly relieved. Behind him, however, Laranth’s continued silence bothered Jax slightly. But then, he reminded himself, she had been moodier than usual lately. He didn’t need the Force to tell him that.
Mindful of his friends’ concern as well as his own interests, Jax was determined to be as firm and straightforward as possible in the course of what well might be his final meeting with Dejah. It was a determination he set his mind to before he left for the meeting the following afternoon, that he maintained in the course of the journey to her residence, and that he continued to hold right up until the time he was admitted to the domicile she had shared with the late Ves Volette.
At which point, determination vanished like a solar sail in a sun flare.
Zeltrons were noted for the flamboyance of their attire, but what Dejah was wearing when she greeted him seemed to be shocking even for her kind. A shimmering silver drapery, as much cloud as cloth, it clung to her body while remaining in constant and revealing motion. It was if she had slipped into a pearlescent mist that coated the shore of a moonlit beach. It flowed in all directions, maintaining the shape of her body while giving fleeting, suggestive glimpses of it. A necklace and bracelet of matching Alderaanian sequat shells completed the ensemble. Definitely not a knockoff she’d picked up at the local discount house. It had probably cost more than most folk made in a year. Or ten.
“Come in, please, Jax. Follow me.”
He did so, forcing himself into a detailed examination of the walls and ceiling until they had arrived at the conversation chamber. It was a sunken circular seating area with a riverstone-surrounded fountain in the center that could spout water, fire, or any of a dozen other entertaining visual enhancements, according to the whim of the dwelling’s occupants. At the moment, it was spraying a deep orange liquid. Off at the far end of the chamber were three now nearly priceless Volettes, each dancing and contorting to its own individual encoding. They supplied all the illumination the chamber needed.
The shifting light made it difficult for him to think. The cloud of intoxicating pheromones she was emitting—not to mention the intoxication factor of the cloud-like subtance she was wearing—did nothing to improve his focus, either. Using the techniques in which he had been trained, he regained his equilibrium. But even with the use of the Force, it wasn’t easy.
She didn’t make it any easier by sitting down right next to him.
“So,” she began, “what did you want to talk to me about, Jax? You said it was important.”
“It is. Dejah—could you possibly damp your, ah, emissions?”
She sat back from him—but only slightly. “You could have put it a little more subtly,” she said with a slight, petulant moue. “Why? Do you find my personal emanations unpleasant?”
“No. Quite the contrary. That’s the problem. I’m having a hard time focusing in such a … potent atmosphere.”
“Oh, well then, if it’s unsettling you.” She did nothing visually, but suddenly the room seemed to clear and he was able to think reasonably straight again without invoking the barrier of the Force. Her smile left no doubt that being distracting bothered her not in the least.
“Thanks,” he told her. It would have helped his concentration even more if she could have done something about what she was wearing, too, but asking her to eliminate that would in all likelihood only make things worse. “I’m here because of the job.”
Her expression went from moue to full-fledged pout, which, although intended to convey a sense of disappointment, only ended up rendering her even more alluring. “What’s wrong, Jax? Isn’t the retainer I’m paying you and your friends sufficient? If it’s inadequate, I suppose I could—”
“It’s not the money,” he assured her quickly. “It’s just that other factors have come into play. For one thing, the sector prefect is growing