The Melier: Prodigal Son

by Poppy Rhys

  She had lost count of the days, but she remembered the fights. Sector five was their destination, but along the way, Jruviin and Val’Koy had stopped at sectors eighteen, fifteen, and ten to participate in matches.

  Every fight had shaved years off her life as she’d waited in the darkness with River. Every fight, the guests booed them out of the arena because they didn’t give a show. And at every checkout, the subscriber count got lower and lower.

  Their earnings dropped to new depths. The amounts were still more than she could make in a handful of years, but they were low compared to what she knew they’d been making before her arrival.

  Dania started to worry.

  It didn’t bode well. Surely their sponsor wouldn’t appreciate his fighters underperforming. She didn’t know everything there was to know about Hae’deth, but bosses were all the same: they wanted maximum profit.

  The day had finally come when they arrived at sector five and Dania immediately noticed a shift in the atmosphere. Not to mention, how Val’Koy and Jruviin closed in around her like a fucking second skin. She nearly walked in tandem with their strides before Jruviin hauled her up and bolted her to his chest.

  She looped her arms around his neck and held tight. Her leash was firmly wrapped around his fist and she worried she’d be decapitated if anyone tried to yank her away.

  “I don’t like this place,” she whispered close to his ear, hidden beneath his shoulder length quills.

  This sector felt... menacing.

  The aliens around them didn’t simply commute to their destinations, like usual, but stopped and stared at them as they walked by. Dania wasn’t oblivious to how they watched either. Her arms tightened around Jru’s neck, fingers fisting into his feathers, and her legs curling tight over his arm.

  Val’Koy’s warning upon first collaring her whispered to her now: “It is too easy, too tempting, for another fighter to take you from us.”

  Dania’s eyes darted this way and that, noticing even the guards kept their beam lashes uncoiled and live, ready to cut down anyone who stepped out of line.

  “Not safe for Mine,” River growled into her brain, his snarling the eerie background music as he walked beside Jruviin, a paw curled around her ankle. His lips were pulled back over his teeth, ears flat, while he warned off anyone he perceived as a threat—which was everyone.

  “You’re scaring me, River.” He really was.

  It didn’t help that Val’Koy’s shoulders were tensed as he led them through the city. His four arms bulged and bowed out while he walked, like he was prepped for anyone to come at him.

  “Not mean scare Mine Dania,” River’s voice was softer, but she could tell he tried hard to suppress his growl.

  “It’s okay,” she whispered. “Everything will be okay.”

  She hoped.

  This had never happened before. Even on her first day, in the food court, people had covertly eyeballed her but here they openly glared, and Dania didn’t like what she saw in their eyes. At all.

  It wasn’t hard to read, especially the ones that licked their maws and panted as they went by. Almost like they wanted to gobble her up or worse.

  She shivered.

  Someone stepped into their path, and Val’Koy halted, Jruviin stopping nearly the same time. If River’s snarling could get any louder, it did. Dania resisted the urge to cover her ears.

  The air thickened and Val’Koy snapped, “Remove yourself.”

  Goosebumps popped up along her arms, the skin puckering so quickly it stung.

  Those nearby stiffened, eyes taking in the scene, bodies tensed and ready to spring or flee. Her vulnerability, being held in Jru’s arms and off steady ground, only heightened her unease.

  The purple alien, its fur so dark it was nearly black in spots, matched Val’Koy’s height, and Dania could just see his left eye. Its pupil was white, while the rest of its eye was the same purple as its fur. Its gaze slid to the side, freezing her in place. The corner of its mouth hitched up, flashing yellow fangs.

  She refrained from gulping.

  “Give female,” it grunted, and Dania could swear it was teasing the Melier.

  Jruviin’s curled talons flexed at the demand and dug into her flesh, pricking the skin on her thigh and along her side, but she was too petrified to even realize he was hurting her.

  The last thing she really wanted to think about was getting snatched from her guys. Another glance around confirmed she’d probably be torn limb from limb if they didn’t share nicely. And none of these aliens looked like the sharing is caring type.

  Five drones whirred by, circling and hovering, and the guards converged, fighting their way through the crowd.

  She gasped at the sudden crack of a beam lash slicing down someone in the guard’s path.

  Val’Koy grabbed the purple alien—with more flab than muscles—around its thick neck and stabbed his newly acquired dagger through the alien’s temple. The sharp tip poked out on the other side of his head.

  Dania gagged.

  The alien’s shocked face slackened, and it hit the ground with a heavy thud. Val’Koy stepped over the body, not bothering to retrieve the dagger, and Jruviin followed.

  “What in the five trade planets...” she murmured under her breath, eyes so wide her lids nearly embedded into her sockets.

  The drones buzzed, following them like an entourage, and the aliens ahead cleared a path, the seething rage on their faces evident. Even those without expression exuded hostility—but they didn’t fuck with Val’Koy.

  This was bad. Very, very bad.

  “I thought it was against the rules to kill outside the arena?” she whispered into Jru’s ear.

  “It is.”

  “Then why’d he do it?” Dania’s heart bumped along in her chest at an unhealthy speed. “The guards were coming to defuse the situation.”

  “Would have been worse,” he ground out, though Dania didn’t think the rude tone was directed at her. The fighters around them continued to glare torpedoes.

  Worse? “That doesn’t make sense.”

  “Respect.”

  That single word was all the answer she needed. Oh.

  She understood. Had Val’Koy let the guard fight the confrontation for him, he would’ve looked like a pansy.

  Fuck, even aliens had too much testosterone.

  The bad juju was stacking up against them. Not only had their subscriber base and their earnings been plummeting, but now—now—he’d gone and broken a rule. Everything to protect her hide.

  Stars above, this is a nightmare!

  One of the drones broke off from the cluster and hovered in front of Val’Koy. It scanned his face with a green light, but the Melier didn’t bother to slow down.

  “Fighter three-zero-three of sector nine,” its robotic voice announced, “you have been summoned.”

  She knew this was bad.

  “Summoned? That doesn’t sound good.”

  “Do not like this,” River growled.

  “Same.”

  Val’Koy led them to one of the blocky black buildings, the glass doors having gone so long without a wash, the gray film of grime was impenetrable.

  “Fighter three-zero-three of sector nine?” the lanky Drinish attendant behind the counter, and solid wall of thick glass, spoke into the microphone. Its voice was deep, but from what Dania could tell, it was a female. They had brighter skin glyphs and longer, white eyelashes.

  “Yes.”

  “You have been summoned by your sponsor. Room ten, to your left.”

  When they moved out of earshot, Dania rasped, “What?! We’re in deep shit. We’re in deep shit,” she chanted.

  “Dania, now is not the time.” Val’Koy rubbed his bald head with both of his upper hands, black claws scratching his skull.

  “When’s the right time? After you’re both dead and me and River are sold? Is that the right time?”

  She may have sounded hysterical, but she was so fucking tired of being afraid of thei
r uncertain future. They couldn’t take away these aliens she’d grown fond of, who she’d depended on for the countless days or weeks—she didn’t know—that she’d been here.

  “Calm down,” he lectured.

  “Calm down? Calm down?!” she shrilled, both aliens wincing. “That is the worst thing you can tell a woman when she’s literally being carried to her death.” She involuntarily kicked her foot and caught River’s ribs.

  “Sorry,” she apologized, and River squeezed her ankle reassuringly.

  “You will not die,” Jruviin said as though she were immortal.

  She huffed. “Give it time. Without you two, I’m as good as hamburger.”

  “What is hamburger?”

  “Ground up meat, that’s what!”

  Jruviin scowled, his black mask of feathers bunching above his nose.

  The lights above flickered—and she wondered if the hallway ever ended—when they finally came upon a black metal door with a halo-display above it of a green glyph she figured translated to ten.

  It automatically opened and Val’Koy entered first. The entire room—walls, floor, ceiling—were brushed silver metal, and it was empty of any furniture.

  Dania’s guts clenched when her eyes landed on three Trepnils.

  Specifically, the one she’d seen in the sponsor stands who’d eyed her when she hid in the shadows.

  “Vu’Mal’Su,” Val’Koy coldly greeted.

  This was the guy who tricked her alien into servitude.

  She shivered at his lizardy figure. Dania was too traveled to be a xenophobe, but she knew these aliens weren’t the good kind, and their drooly traps and perpetually molting scales that smelled of rancid dairy—she remembered this all too well—made it easy for her to instantly despise them.

  Then of course, there was that incident when they’d hacked her eyeball, nearly drove her insane, hired someone to kidnap her, and then tossed her into an arena just to use her against the two good aliens that continued to keep her safe...

  You bet the five trade planets she fucking hated them.

  The two flanking Vu’Mal’Su hissed. “You dare address—”

  Vu’Mal’Su held up a taloned hand, hushing his guard. The scaled, pale lip along his extended snout lifted in what Dania could only describe as a facsimile sneer.

  Fucking creepy.

  “You broke the rules,” he gurgled, and Dania was convinced the Trepnil language had to be in the top five most awful. “You fail to entertain the fans. You have stolen from my pockets, Prince, and I do not tolerate thieves.”

  “That’s rich,” she blurted, and immediately bit the side of her tongue. Val’Koy’s tail stiffened, but he didn’t turn around. Vu’Mal’Su’s round yellow eyes slid toward her and that sneer widened.

  Jruviin’s nails bit into her thigh once more and she tried not to wince. Again, she didn’t think he did it on purpose.

  River snarled. “Kill males?”

  “Not yet. Stand by.” She internally shook herself. What the fuck was she thinking?

  “Enjoying your new pets?” Vu’Mal’Su prodded Val’Koy, a sick gleam in his eye. His tone abraded her skin in the worst way.

  “Dania is not—” Jruviin began.

  “Silence, runt.” Vu’Mal’Su emphasized runt and didn’t bother to deign Jruviin with a glance. “I paid more money for your hide than it is worth.”

  “How dare you talk to my Jruviin like that, you son of a woxikian whore!” Dania exclaimed, nearly sputtering, and she wondered if her brains had liquified with her good sense.

  Oh my god, what have I done?!

  That time, when Jruviin’s claws nearly pierced her skin, she thought it might be on purpose.

  “Therran scab!” one of the guards cried and advanced.

  River’s snarl was so deafening, her ears rang.

  Val’Koy stepped in the Trep’s path, his voice like mountains scraping against the planet’s crust when he warned, “Back. The fuck. Away.”

  They stood mere feet from one another, glaring. The Trep hissed and Val’Koy’s growl was a rolling click in the depths of his chest. It sounded menacing that even her arm hair raised.

  Vu’Mal’Su’s jaws had opened and hung suspended now. Dania understood they did this when they were excited. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know why.

  He waved his hand and rasped, “Dismissed.”

  THIRTY

  JRUVIIN

  “What were you thinking?” Val’Koy roared at Dania, making Jruviin’s spine feathers raise, eliciting a warning grumble from River.

  “I-I wasn’t!” she tossed her hands in the air and then drove them into her mess of curls to hold her head. “I’m sorry! I just—I just. I don’t know what came over me. He disrespected Jru and—”

  “So, what?” Val’Koy exclaimed, pacing the stone room as they awaited their turn in the arena for the fight—the one that Vu’Mal’Su had so carefully scheduled once they began caring for Dania. “Insults are just words!”

  “They aren’t just words!” she shot back, face a bright pink that so clearly displayed her exasperation. “He’s already got you under his thumb, and then he just adds insult to injury by humiliating Jruviin. I didn’t like it!”

  Jruviin didn’t know how to feel. A new sensation had bloomed in his chest, and it hadn’t yet dissipated.

  No one had ever taken a stand for him in his life. Not that he needed it, he could defend himself or ignore it entirely—which was often what he did—but it had happened now, and Jruviin struggled to process it.

  “Val’Koy is right, Dania,” he admitted from his spot on the metal bench. “They are just words. They cannot hurt me.”

  Her darkly captivating eyes landed on him as her face fell. She closed the distance, her soft fingers reaching out to brush through the quills of his crown and he nearly cooed.

  “You’re wrong,” she gently protested. “Words have weight, I don’t care what either of you say. Yell at me all you guys want, but I couldn’t let that flaky bastard talk to you like that.”

  And then she did the most startling thing. Her cheek softly nuzzled his and her pinkened lips brushed against his mouth.

  “No one can talk to you like that,” she firmly declared, staring him in the eyes before she did it again. Her lips pressed against his, harder that time. His nostrils flared, he deeply inhaled and nearly drowned in her pheromones. “You either.” She pointed at Val’Koy when she pulled away, her hand still clutching the back of his neck.

  “You do not understand,” Val’Koy sighed, a good portion of his rage seemingly tamped by Dania’s honorable—excitingly territorial—intentions.

  “What don’t I understand?”

  “Something is coming.” The prince scrubbed his head. “I know it.”

  “Something like...?” The previous pink on Dania’s cheeks slowly faded and she grew pale. “I don’t like the sound of that.”

  “You should be scared,” Val’Koy barked, casting her a dark glance. “In this place, we are outnumbered. It is already challenging to keep you by our sides, but you have provoked Vu’Mal’Su further.”

  Her brows puckered, and she glanced from him to Jruviin and back again. “I realize it wasn’t the best timing, and I’m sorry, okay? But what aren’t you guys telling me?”

  Jruviin’s tail tip flicked back and forth and he tucked a few of her stray curls behind her flexible ear. “You know as much as we do.”

  ****

  DANIA

  This had to be about their declining numbers. She knew it was bad, but she hadn’t thought about it when she mouthed off. She hadn’t been thinking at all—a sudden case of word vomit. Obviously, there was a better way—somehow—to go about sticking up for her guys, but she had reacted in the heat of the moment.

  Seeing how wound up Val’Koy was made her sweat. His ominous words caused her blood to pool in her legs, making them heavy, while the craggy fingers of terror latched onto her shoulders and threatened to squash her.

  Som
ething wet and sticky buried itself in her ear and Dania jumped off the bench with a squeal, the skinny pink appendage detaching and disappearing from the edge of her sight.

  “What was that?!”

  Jruviin rubbed the side of his head where his ear hid. “You grew alarmingly pale,” he shook his head; layered, shoulder-length quills swaying. “I only wanted to check your health.”

  “With what?” Dania rubbed away the clear, tacky fluid from her ear.

  “His undertongue,” Val’Koy grated and lowered himself to the bench.

  “You have two tongues?”

  “I do. One aids in taste and the other allows me to sense wellbeing.” When she remained silent, still covering her ear in case he decided to do it again, he explained, “It is sensitive to temperature shifts, heart rate, and subtle changes in gland secretions that could alert me to illness.”

  So weird. She rubbed her ear again. Getting surprise tongue was more unsettling than she imagined. The alien version of a wet-willie.

  “It is pointless to fight it,” Val’Koy glowered at the middle distance. “He refuses—”

  Jru’s undertongue shot out, slapping against Val’Koy’s temple and retreating in the next blink.

  Val’Koy’s tail dangerously whipped side to side. The swish-swish of it brushing stray sand back and forth on the floor filled the silence.

  “You remain in good health,” Jruviin simply offered, unbothered by the death-glare the Melier shot him.

  Dania realized there was so much about these guys she still didn’t know, even after the seemingly endless time they’d spent together on the centipede train.

  “Val’Koy?”

  He grumbled, “What?”

  “Why did Vu’Mal’Su call you Prince?” It stuck out to her, because it reminded her of his moniker. “Anything to do with what they call you on the sands?” Prince of the Arena they shouted.

  She understood why they called Jruviin the Liberator of Limbs—arms and tentacles were his favorite appendages to sever. But Prince?

  Val’Koy dragged his menacing eyes from Jruviin and his expression gradually shifted to one of pride. “Vu’Mal’Su himself gave me that title. To mock me. He calls me Prince because I am.”