Zuran: A Paranormal Sci-Fi Alien Romance: Albaterra Mates Book 6

by Ashley L. Hunt

  “I doubt Kharid would allow me to join the militia, Terrik,” I contended. “I am too high-profile an outlaw.”

  “Oh, but it is all in the wording, dear boy!” He wrapped his arm around my shoulder, pulling me against him. I felt the array of knives beneath his vest, as bumpy as a rib cage. I realized he had a large mass on his back beneath the vest’s hem, and I immediately knew he was carrying a gaar’kon gun. That was unusual; it meant one of two things: either he had some business to settle after his meeting with me, or he was prepared to ensure I had only one option regarding his proposal. Knowing Terrik, it could have been both. “You simply tell the Council how much you regret your misdeeds, how you were short-sighted and entitled and lacking in judgment. You thank them for their efforts in rehabilitating you into a worthy citizen. And then you tell them you want a chance to prove yourself.”

  “I expect the Council is astute enough to see through a plea as thin as that,” I said dryly.

  Terrik released me and spun to face me once more. He was grinning from ear-to-ear now, widening his scar to an unnatural berth. “You expect the Council to see through it because you believe them to be as shrewd as we are. What you are forgetting, Zuran, is ego. We know what we do not know, and we learn. The Elders want to think they know it all, making them stagnant and arrogant, but they do not necessarily believe it. So, when someone steps forward and praises their choices, it reinforces their desired omnipotence, and their ego accepts the praise as truth. They are fleeced by their own psyches.”

  I frowned. Terrik’s assertion was very much the truth, but the fact was I had no desire to become a warrior. He circled his arm behind his back, though, and I remembered the gaar’kon. I had no choice. I was to become a warrior of the Dhal’atian milita.

  Chapter Thirty

  Phoebe

  Zuran’s story was like a scene from a crime novel or a Mafia movie. It boggled my mind that those kinds of dealings happened anywhere, let alone Albaterra. I goggled at him and, when he crooked a brow at me, I shook my head.

  “Are you still a mole?” I asked, trying to keep the distaste out of my tone.

  “I have not assisted the rogues for many, many years,” he said.

  His hand was still around mine, but it wasn’t comfortable anymore. My palm had become sweaty as he’d imparted the memory. I had been granted a metaphorical window into his past and my future because every step I took was a step closer toward meeting this Terrik myself, and I really didn’t want to do that.

  “So, did they kick you out? The rogues?”

  Zuran looked at me and wiggled his eyebrows. “Once a rogue, always a rogue.”

  I knew he was trying to be silly, but I didn’t feel any humor. When I’d decided to duck out of the hospital and travel to Ka-lik’et with him, I’d been nervous and more than a little doubtful that I was making the right decision. Now, however, I was terrified. The only thing I wanted to do was grab Zuran’s arm, pull him backward the way we came, and beg him to forget about this whole thing.

  Either he could sense my fear or my expression gave me away. He leaned down to peer into my face without missing a step. “You are bothered,” he noted.

  “No,” I said, my voice squeaking in the middle of the word against my will. “Nope. Not bothered. Scared out of my fricken head, yes, but not bothered.”

  “Why are you scared?” He came to a full-stop, and relief washed over me. All he would have to do now is turn around and start walking where our footprints still lingered in the sand, and I’d feel all better.

  “Because that Terrik guy sounds dangerous,” I admitted. “I’m not sure it’s such a good idea to see him.”

  Unfortunately, Zuran resumed walking, and I followed suit despite every cell in my brain screaming at me to turn back. “With any luck, we will not have to meet with Terrik,” he said.

  “Well, are you planning to meet with someone equally as bad?”

  He chuckled. I didn’t see what was funny about it, but he was clearly deriving some kind of entertainment from my naivety. “I do not think there is anyone as bad as Terrik,” he told me. “Even I could never compete with him.”

  I don’t know why I was thinking we would reach Ka-lik’et in only a few hours, but I was very wrong. It took several days. Thankfully, we came across a house owned by a hermit of an A’li-uud who was kind enough to give us some food and water, and we passed through a small village as well where we were able to purchase necessities. Zuran didn’t seem troubled in the slightest that the journey was as lengthy as it was. In fact, he seemed to be in a downright good mood. I realized just how much he relished the open space, the freedom of the vast desert. For me, it was perilous, and I was constantly worried about dying of dehydration or getting bitten by one of the angui serpents he told me about. For him, though, it was like all of his worries were lifted from his shoulders and tossed into oblivion, forgotten.

  When we eventually did reach Ka-lik’et, I’d lost track of the days. It had definitely been more than two, but I wasn’t sure how much more. The peach-colored clay walls of the city rose from the horizon bit by bit until we were able to see where they met the ground. If it had been daytime, we would have been able to see the palace dome, but it was as dark as it had been when we’d first left the hospital, and it was difficult to see anything at all. I only knew the walls were there because the silhouettes of the dunes against the skyline disappeared into flatness, and Zuran pointed ahead.

  “We are nearly there.”

  I should have been grateful or excited. Edie was there, and so was a bed and plentiful food and safety. But I didn’t feel safe. I felt like I was getting ready to walk into a hornets’ nest. What was strange was Zuran commented about feeling similarly, but he seemed thrilled by it. Exhilarated, almost. I knew I was no longer looking at the Interplanetary Affairs Officer of Dhal’at; I was looking at a reformed criminal who, just like an alcoholic, might only need a taste of his old life to spiral back down into destruction.

  “Zuran,” I said suddenly. He kept walking, but I stopped and dug in my heels. Sand spilled over into the backs of my shoes, grittily scraping my skin. When he turned, I released his hand and ran my fingers through my hair. “This might be a really, really bad idea.”

  “I know,” he replied boyishly. “The bad ideas are always the most fun.”

  “I’m being serious,” I sternly persisted. The wind from our travels had tousled my locks so badly they were knotted from scalp to end, and my head protested as I forced my fingers through. I could only imagine what I looked like. “I’m afraid something is going to happen.”

  He crossed his arms and leaned back on his heels. “I tried to warn you of that before we left,” he reminded me.

  “Yeah, but I didn’t know everything then,” I argued. “You hadn’t told me about Terrik and the underground trade and the rogues before.”

  “Would you have come if I had?”

  I didn’t expect him to ask me that. I expected him to try to convince me we’d be okay, or even to get angry and insist we keep going because he wasn’t going to leave Venan to an undeserved fate. The question threw me off-guard, and I stumbled over my words.

  “I—well—it would have been—” He lifted a brow, and I exhaled hard. “I don’t know. Probably, because I would’ve wanted to help.”

  “Then, is this not a moot argument?” he asked.

  “I’m not arguing,” I contradicted. “I’m voicing my concerns.”

  He softened, uncrossing his arms and stepping toward me. I breathed deeply as he wrapped me in an embrace. His chin rested on my scalp, which was still burning from my aggressive finger-combing, and I breathed in the scent of his chest.

  “Your concerns are well-founded,” he said. He sounded distant even though we were pressed against each other. “I have concerns of my own. But I did not come all this way to abandon my plan. I cannot let Venan implicate himself for a crime he did not commit, at least not without a fair trial and proper evidence. However, if you
do not wish to accompany me, I understand. I could escort you to my parents’ home if you prefer, and you may remain there until I am finished.”

  In some ways, the idea sounded good. I could meet his parents—which was a little scary in itself, but definitely preferable to meeting a major A’li-uud gangster—and relax in the safety of their home. There was no way I was going to let Zuran go on ahead with his plan alone, though. I wouldn’t know if he was caught or if things turned bad with the rogues before it was too late, and I didn’t even want to imagine the guilt I’d feel then. Besides, I had wanted to come with him in the first place because I felt like my presence would help justify him if we were to be discovered. That hadn’t changed.

  “No, I’ll go with you,” I murmured. “Just…can we be careful? Like, really careful?”

  He chuckled. I heard the sound vibrating between his pectorals. “Sure,” he agreed, kissing the top of my head. “Do you feel better?”

  “Barely,” I replied dryly.

  “Well, barely will have to do, because now we need to get into Ka-lik’et before day breaks.”

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Zuran

  Ka-lik’et was a large, sprawling city, which meant it would take a lot of time we simply did not have to case the exterior for guards. I had to rely on my prior knowledge of their stations and hope things had not changed over the years, or since Kharid’s passing.

  The main entrance gates were not an option; I knew that without even looking. In the prime of my criminal career, there had been no less than twelve guards assigned to the gate every single night. There were several other entry points along the walls in less conspicuous parts of the city, and those were frequented by two guards apiece. Then, of course, there was the option of scaling the wall, but we lacked the equipment necessary. That meant we had only one option: distract one of the guard pairs overseeing a side entrance long enough to sneak in.

  “Can’t we just go to the gates and tell them what we told the rest of the mutacorpathy team?” Phoebe whispered as we trekked a wide berth around the city borders toward the lesser-populated back.

  “Unfortunately, no,” I said quietly. We were well out of earshot even if the wind carried our voices, but, when it came to stealth, I always preferred to be safe than sorry. “If I had truly been called back to Ka-lik’et to check on the colonists, the guards would have been notified.”

  “Well, could we make something else up?” she suggested hopefully.

  I shook my head, though I kept my eyes pinned on the clay boundary. We were rounding to the rear of the city, and I could see the two separate openings through which merchants traveled each morning to bring their wares to their booths before the market opened. They were not gated or blocked in any way, just simple thick breaks in the wall with arches overhead, but a guard stood on either side of each with their eyes pinned to the desert expanse before them. That might mean we needed to make a distraction for all four, rather than two. I cursed under my breath.

  “No,” I responded to her gruffly. My frustration was not with her, but she shrank a bit as if it were. I glanced at her momentarily to silently reassure her I was not displeased with her offerings. “I wish we could, but guards are not easily fooled. Our best option is to get them away from their posts for an unseen reason. That way, by the time they realize they have been duped, we will be already inside.”

  “Okay, so how are we supposed to do that?” she asked, now sounding as frustrated as me.

  I eyed the guards. They were familiar to me, of course, but I knew none by name or by demeanor. I would have to hope they were all foolish enough to defy orders and leave their posts in search of my distraction.

  “I have an idea,” I said carefully, “but we will have to be fast, and we will have to be ruthless.” I pulled both daggers from their sheaths, and her eyes widened.

  The uhudu brayed in panic, and I swung my legs around it to straddle its middle.

  “Hold its head down,” I ordered.

  Phoebe looked hesitantly down on the creature. “This is so cruel,” she mewled miserably. “It’s like a little camel.”

  I knew not what a camel was, so I leaned forward over the uhudu to stop it from squirming out from under and looked at her firmly. “I told you, we are going to have to be ruthless if we are to succeed,” I said. “I like this no more than you do, but there are greater things at stake here.”

  “Are you going to kill it?” she whimpered, kneeling down one leg after the other and placing her hands on its slender neck. Stray golden hairs fell from its throat to the sand where her fingers pushed them free of the rest.

  “Of course I am not going to kill it,” I snapped a little irritably. To think that I would kill an innocent creature for any reason other than self-defense was insulting. “I am going to cut off a chunk of hoof.”

  She ogled me in horror. “That’s awful!” she hissed.

  I took the uhudu’s back left leg in my hand and held it aloft. Phoebe squeaked in protest, and I paused.

  “We have nothing else at our disposal, Phoebe,” I told her warningly.

  She shook her head wildly, matted hair tumbling around her face. “I don’t care! We can’t hurt an animal just to get what we want!”

  I released the uhudu’s leg in surprise. “You think I will hurt it?” I asked, startled. “You think that is what I intend?”

  “Well, cutting off its hoof doesn’t sound like a spa treatment,” she whispered fiercely.

  I almost laughed. “There are no nerves in an uhudu hoof,” I explained. “It will not hurt him. It will only force him to walk lopsidedly until the missing piece grows back.”

  She stared at me, studying me hard as if trying to determine if I was placating her or telling her the truth. “How is that going to help us?” she suspicioned.

  “Because we will direct the uhudu toward Ka-lik’et where the guards will see it, and they will try to capture it,” I confidently said. “Illegal uhudu farms are a popular source of income for a number of rogues. They are useful beasts. Their hooves are quite solid yet porous and make excellent water filters for nomads in particular, and, of course, when they are grown, they are prized as travel animals. An illegal uhudu can almost always be characterized by a lopsided gait because the farmers are always harvesting the hooves, so the guards will assume this one has escaped and will want to catch it as evidence against the offending farm.”

  “Fine,” she groaned. She turned her face away and closed her eyes so tightly that her lids wrinkled. “Just do it quick.”

  I took the beast’s leg again and began prodding around its surface with the tip of my dagger in search of a weakened soft spot. When I found it, I slid the blade in easily and popped the hilt upward. With a sick stretching sound, a mass of hoof separated from the rest and rolled into the sand beside me.

  “It is done,” I said, dropping the leg and snatching up the hoof piece before the uhudu’s flailing flung it far away.

  Phoebe scrambled upright at once, and I got to my feet. Immediately, the uhudu rolled over onto its belly and shakily stood. It brayed at us with displeasure as it tried to gather its balance again. I flattened my hands against its flank and shoved in the direction of Ka-lik’et. Then, I grabbed Phoebe’s hand once more as I slid both the hoof and the dagger into the empty sheath on my hip.

  “Come,” I said hastily. “We must hurry.”

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Phoebe

  I had never seen Ka-lik’et in the middle of the night before. Generally, the colonists didn’t leave the colony after dark, not because there was a curfew but because everything we needed was inside our walls. I never expected it to look like this, though.

  We were in the back of the city, behind the palace where a number of residences in neat lines were plunged into blackness on our right, and a multitude of the glowing crystal lights bathed the market walk in every color imaginable on our left. There was a striking amount of activity. While the homes of Ka-lik’et residences
were silent and slumbering, the merchant booths were alive with vendors, shoppers, and a host of seedy-looking A’li-uud. I had never heard the chatter I heard now from my hut inside the colony, and I wondered if this was unusual activity or perhaps something that had developed after I had been relocated to the hospital in the north. Either way, I didn't have a good feeling.

  Zuran’s plan of distraction for the guards was brilliant. They acted exactly as he expected. When the uhudu staggered into their line of sight, we heard the one nearest us talking to one another in A’li-uud from where we hid behind a small dune. As the uhudu grew nearer to them, they began calling out to the other pair of guards further down the wall. I couldn't understand anything they were saying, but Zuran had an expression of satisfaction, and I knew things were going as planned. After some discussion, the guards closest to us began walking toward the creature, but, when it began to run away, the guards at the other entry point joined in the chase.

  “Now,” Zuran whispered.

  With our hands joined and our feet pounding, we raced to the entrance. I wanted to look back, to make sure the guards didn't see us, but Zuran was pulling me so quickly that I knew I'd lose my balance if I tried. I didn't hear them shouting in protest anyway, which I figured they’d do if they noticed us. We reached the boundary, slipped through the opening, and flattened ourselves against the wall. We made it.

  My relief lasted for only a moment. The second I laid eyes on the thin crowds of aliens gathered on the market walk, my heart sank. This felt more and more dangerous and less likely to be successful with every passing breath.

  “Come,” said Zuran. “We have to blend in.”