The Last Twilight Read Online Free PDF

the brush of their clothing and the slosh of water in the buckets they carried on their heads.
    Amiri listened, and watched, and felt like a stranger. Not Kenya, true—but he wondered if it would matter, whether too much time had passed. He had always been an outsider; his father had seen to that. But this was different. The pain, different. He had never truly learned how to be human—not until he was more man than child—and he felt that now more than ever. The lack of connection. Isolation, loneliness. Stranger. Strange land. All because of his blood. Because of bad luck, bad timing, his own stupidity.
    The cheetah rumbled. Amiri chided himself. No self-pity. Do not dare. You are alive. You are strong. You have friends You have purpose. Nothing else matters.
    Nothing, except the hole in his heart. Nothing, except the quiet knowledge that he could never go home again. And oh, he had not felt this way in years. Too occupied, too content with his new life. But being here brought it back, all the very worst and best.
    Duna reached beneath his tattered seat for a manila folder. He passed it back to Amiri and said, “This is Doctor Kinn.”
    Rikki, he remembered Max calling her. He held the file in his hands, uneasy. Occupied with his thoughts. It was only when Eddie began reaching over did he flip open the file. He was uncertain what to expect, but he got his answer, fast. Found himself struck hard, unprepared for yet more heartache.
    It was a photo of a woman. Still young, but no girl. A body shot, a candid photo that could have been taken from a personal album. There were potted flowers behind her, and the edge of some corporate building, all steel and glass. Impossible to tell her height, but she was slender, compact, with short brown hair and a dark gaze so intense it was like looking down the barrel of a gun. Her face was shaped like a heart, her skin the color of pale Saharan sands—blindingly warm, shifting colors of cream—and her smile was fierce as a lion’s grin, wry and sharp, with a brilliance to it that was breathtaking in its sincerity. She was a woman who made promises with her smile. A woman who broke hearts with it, as well.
    Amiri liked her face. He liked the spirit shining there, as though there were sunlight beneath her skin, bright and breathtaking, burning. Bold as fire in a bowl of ice. He could not stop staring.
    Not for you, whispered a dull voice. She is not for you.
    Bitterness crawled up his throat, as well as an ache so close to loneliness he clutched for something, anything, to fill the gaping hole in his chest. He chose pain. Dug his nails into his palms, cutting himself. No one seemed to notice—except Max, but that was to be expected. Amiri trusted him to keep a secret. He had no choice.
    “She’s cute,” Eddie said, peering over his shoulder. Amiri forced down a growl. Cute was not an accurate description. Beautiful, maybe; utterly unattainable, perhaps.
    Dangerous, whispered that same deadened voice, which was his father now, and hateful. Human women are dangerous. Use them, leave them. Do not trust them. Do not love them.
    Or they will pay the price, recalled Amiri, and against his will, suffered yet more memories: Ebony skin damp with sweat, rolling soft under his hands. A husky voice, whispering his name with pleasure.
    And later, fear. A woman’s awful, terrible fear.
    He took a deep steadying breath and forced himself to look past the photograph to the documents underneath. There was little to find, other than a description of Rikki Kinn’s education and degrees, as well as some personal observations cobbled together by someone with a very colorful opinion.
    Demanding, read Amiri. Stubborn as hell. Occasionally makes shit smell good.
    “Sounds charming,” Max said, leaning over to read. “So, why is she in trouble?”
    A loaded question. Giving Duna direction, focus, something that Max could eavesdrop on. Amiri watched his gaze turn distant, contemplative—then worse: