by Poppy Rhys
“I could really go for some replicated Skittles right now,” she moaned. “Or Airheads. Mmmm Nerds.”
Jruviin shifted, helping her up. “What language are you speaking?”
Val’Koy quietly laughed, his chest lightly jostling her when she leaned against him. Dania grinned. “She talks of human treats.”
“What kind of treats?”
“Delicious sugary ones with just the right amount of sour to make your taste buds zing.” Her mouth watered. She didn’t think Val would appreciate it if she drooled on him right now.
It didn’t slip her notice that she’d lost a little bit of weight since their escape from Tundrin. No doubt it had something to do with the lack of high-fat ration bars the Treps had been feeding her.
Whenever she got back to Dor Nye, that candy store would be leveled. And by leveled she meant she’d buy up all her replicated favorites, including the extra stock, and then pay like the upstanding citizen she was.
A life of crime wasn’t in her ten-year plan.
****
“What do you mean we’re there already?” Dania’d barely closed her eyes to take a power nap after that glorious shower—she had sand in places she didn’t know sand could get—and now Zed said they’d arrived.
“These mechs have bangin’ tech. Far superior to this heap of ju—"
“Hey,” she interrupted, gusting a breath as she heaved herself into an upright position on the bed and pushed her wild hair out of her face. “Don’t talk about yourself like that.”
“Ha ha ha,” Zed laughed, making the conversation even weirder. “You got jokes, Cap. I’m just the rad A.I. who got saddled to this heap, but I’m ‘bout it, ‘bout it.”
“What is he saying?” Jruviin asked from beyond the door just before it slid open.
“Do I appear to be a human from Earth’s ‘nineties’?” Val’Koy shot back, perplexed.
Dania fell back against the bed with an exasperated laugh. Beside her, River’s mismatched eyes stared into hers and then his big paw grabbed at her side. He pulled her to his chest and curled his body around her as if to resume their blissful, much needed nap.
One thing about all these aliens—she’d never need a blanket again. They all ran at a million fucking degrees and, on top of that, River’s silvery fur was thick and wiry with an unbelievably soft undercoat she could sink her fingers into.
She did that now and her fingernails scraped his chest gently, erupting a pleased rumble from him as his huge foot scratched against the bed repeatedly until she stopped.
Dania smothered a laugh and did it again.
“Are you done playing?” Val asked dryly and Dania slid a peek at him.
“Jealous much?”
Val’Koy bristled and River’s bushy tail thumped against the bed like he was laughing.
A blue hand reached for her and River stiffened, a growl bursting from his chest as his black gums pulled back over his sharp teeth in warning.
Because, just like human men, aliens have an overabundance of testosterone too—or whatever the equivalent is—Val and Jru growled right back.
“Neanderthals,” she mumbled, rolling her eyes and trying extremely hard to keep her lips from twitching. “There’s plenty of me to go ‘round!”
“She just insulted us,” Jruviin pointed out, but the question in his gaze—made apparent by the way his left eye squinted just slightly—led her to believe he was guessing.
Her vision tremored when the growls between Val and River kicked up a notch, causing the wolvenk’s chest to visibly vibrate.
“You won’t really bite him, right?”
“Mine want me to bite male?”
Dania snickered. He obviously wasn’t serious.
River tensed again and her smile vanished.
“No! Don’t bite him.”
“You’re all pretty!” she announced, and the growling stopped. “Is that what you want to hear?”
“Pretty?” Jruviin’s mouth quivered like he held back a grin.
“Now she insults us,” Val’Koy huffed.
It would seem her aliens would rather be compared to extinct cavemen than called pretty. Unless they didn’t know what a Neanderthal was.
Probably the latter.
“Are you feeling better?” Jruviin asked, sitting on the edge of the bed and grasping one of her ankles. His warm, callused hands massaged her foot and she almost forgot the question.
Dania nodded. “Wish I could get a longer nap, though.”
“A nap?” Val’Koy’s hairless brow ridge dipped over one eye. “You slept for nearly twelve hours.”
“I what?”
“You slept for—”
“I heard you the first time.”
“Then—”
“I can’t believe I slept that long.” How? She could’ve sworn she just closed her eyes when Zed buzzed through the ship.
Val’Koy scrubbed his head, annoyed.
“Does that mean the ship is fixed?”
“No,” Jru answered before Val could. “The repairman asked us to disembark so he could fix it properly.”
“Well how much is he charging?”
“We took care of that,” Val’Koy calmly stated.
They really were on top of things. Again, how had she slept that long? A yawn had her sore jaw stretching and she stifled a groan.
“You need pain meds.”
“I’m fine,” she said to Val, patting his arm when he helped her off the bed. “Really.”
The way they worried and fussed over her was cute. It had them burrowing even deeper into the depths of her chest.
Jruviin’s hand swept down her tattered dress—the one that basically looked like a gauzy veil in the form of an ill fitted tunic—to brush away River’s shed finger-length gray hairs.
In no time they were off the ship and Dania gaped, soaking in the barrage of holoscreens and colorful strobing, rotating, and twirling signage for every kind of shop.
A main strip cut down the middle of Sau-sai Hub, buildings and multiple levels on either side. Hover cars and buses zipped by on every level. She counted twenty stories high before the haze of a purplish smog made it impossible to see farther up. Lights glowed beyond it though, so there had to be more levels and more shops.
Arched skybridges with rounded glass tunnels crossed the strip at various heights. Dania could see the myriad of aliens and androids that navigated over them.
It was sensory overload and she loved everything about it.
“Wow...” she breathed as her mates guided her into a transparent lift. River sniffed it before crossing the threshold, much to the chagrin of those impatiently waiting to board behind him. She grinned.
River grunted. “These people stink.”
Dania snorted in the silence, drawing stares. Val’Koy shifted and laid a hand at the small of her back, which only garnered more attention.
Her cheeks burned. Maybe she should be used to aliens staring at her by now, but she wasn’t, and when they exited multiple levels up, she exhaled with relief...
And then a gaggle of wombat-koala aliens, no higher than her knee, walked by. Their language was a series of squeaks and baritone churrs, and she had the sudden urge to grab one and squeeze.
“Not a good idea, Cap.” Zed’s voice blared in her mind like he knew how bad she wanted to snuggle those fluffy aliens. Val’Koy and Jruviin jumped at her sides.
She squinted. “Are you okay?”
“I heard... Zed,” Val murmured, rubbing his temple curiously.
“Me too,” Jru added.
“Zed—”
“That’s my name, Cap, don’t wear it out.”
Dania took a deep breath. “Did you download to their translators?”
“I did. After your escape from Equah, my algorithms concluded it would be safer if your mates could also hear me.”
The wombat-koalas were getting away. “So cute...”
“The Fifi’s—” d’aww, they even had an adorable name “�
��are easily offended and expel venomous hairs from their butts that are capable of paralyzing many species,” Zed warned. “Humans included.”
Her mouth fell open, and her urge to cuddle them died a fiery death. “My god... Such angry little fluffs.”
Her mates dragged her away.
“What are we doing here?”
“Clothes,” Val’Koy answered, and her eyes drifted over her mates. All this time they’d been stuck with their Tundrin slave clothes and the only thing she had, other than the burlap-sack-turned-tunic, was the half-ripped thing the Equahns made her wear.
“Good idea!” she chirped. “But I’d really like to make a call.”
She’d been gone for... well she didn’t know the exact time and she hadn’t asked Zed the date. To be honest, she was afraid. How long had she truly been gone?
By now her apartment would have been rented to someone new. What happened to her stuff? She never had many possessions but what she did have meant something to her. Namely, the few pictures in her hallway.
And her blender. That simple, yet amazing, piece of machinery had seen her through tough times.
If she could get in touch with Rita or her parents and let them know she wasn’t dead, that would be great.
“After we find suitable garments,” Val’Koy said, his gaze tracking down her body. “You need better clothes. We can see everything.”
“Is that so bad?” Why did she feel a tiny twinge of shame? It made her want to cross her arms over her body and hide.
“For us, never.” He peered into her eyes, the intensity of his pale green orbs drilling into her as if he’d read her mind, then pinpointed her insecurity—and fucking annihilated it. “I hate how everyone else can see you. I want to rip their fucking eyes from their skulls and stalks and tentacles.”
Dania stood straighter and failed to bite back her smile. “Okay,” she peeped.
****
Yanking on her other calf-high, black boot, Dania straightened and regarded her reflection. Even though the black pants were skin tight, the matching long-sleeved shirt was roomier and tapered to points off her rounded hips.
The ensemble completed with a hooded black jacket that swept the back of her thighs. She’d gained a little sun while on Equah, but her paler skin and hair contrasted starkly with the fabric.
Dania did a small ninja move and hand-chopped her invisible opponent. The awkward motion made her chuckle, but the outfit reminded her of some assassin about to go kick ass.
She hand-chopped another invisible target and a whispered ‘hai-yah!’ slipped.
“What are you doing?”
Dania squawked and whirled around, meeting three pairs of eyes as all three guys watched her with narrowed gazes.
“I, uh... I, um, the...” She gave up and cringed at their amused faces. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you it’s rude to watch a girl get dressed?”
“You were already dressed,” Jruviin pointed out.
“That isn’t—You know what, never mind.” Dania could feel her face flaming.
“You turned red,” Val’Koy stated, no longer hiding his grin.
“That means embarrassment, right?” Jru dug in, leaning casually against the door frame, a twinkle in his eye.
“She also turns red when she org—”
“O-kay!” Letting Val’Koy finish that sentence was a bad idea. “I’m ready to make those comm calls now.”
She quickly slipped past them and tried to gain some control over her damn blush that kept giving her away. Instead, she only fidgeted awkwardly and fussed over nonexistent lint on her jacket while the guys paid the six-armed, black and pink striped woman.
Sneaking glances at her mates’ muscular forms, she had to keep from fanning herself. They had on the exact same outfit she did, but it looked scarier on them. Especially when they flipped up their hoods and—
“Down!” Jruviin shouted, yanking so hard on her arm that she crashed to the floor just as a bullet whistled above her head.
The waxy shop owner shrilled a scream that could rupture eardrums. Dania clapped her hands over her ears, eyes bugging as she watched Val’Koy drag the storekeeper down to the floor and shove a wad of fabric in her mouth.
“Fucking hell that hurt!” he bit out and scrambled behind the counter just as River dove over it and she and Jru rounded the other side.
Bullets rained, shattering mirrors and marring the walls. River covered her, protecting her from the flying shards of glass and splintered wood.
“What the fuck is going on?” she shouted, peeking at Jru as he ducked, searching for something along the shelves they were pressed up against.
Jru grasped something and pulled it from the shelf. It was the length of her arm—a gun.
With barely a glance, he pressed a hidden sensor that revealed the mech settings and started punching in codes with the ease of spelling his own name.
Dania was beyond confused. How did he know all that? What exactly was he doing?
Another swipe of the sensor, and the gun ejected a big ass clip. Jru’s gaze quickly swept it, and shoved it back in.
The bullets ceased, the only sound the drizzling and patter of water droplets hitting the floor from a busted vase.
An audible crunch of glass beneath someone’s boot had River’s ears lying flat.
Jruviin leapt to his feet, the unholy noise of a charged weapon cutting the silence before he pulled the trigger and the automatic firearm let loose a torrent of red projectiles.
The deep, guttural grunts and high-pitched screams of multiple people being littered with the energy bullets filled the air, along with the stench of blood.
Jru ceased fire and there was nothing but silence.
“Greesh mercs,” he spat, lowering the gun. “There must be a bounty on our heads.”
Dania gaped. “How do you know?”
“They prowl the routes surrounding gaming planets hoping to snatch up any contracts.” He checked the firearm, opening its panel and adjusting the settings again like it was his personal, long time weapon, which had her jaw dropping. When the panel fizzled, sparked, and died, he tossed it away.
“How do you know how to use that thing?”
Val’Koy stood, helping her to her feet and checking for injuries.
Jruviin paused, his expression unreadable. “We all have a past.”
She groaned. “Please don’t say you were like these mercenaries...”
“No,” he uttered, and she exhaled a relieved sigh. “But I did arm them.”
Her eyes bugged. “You what? Why would you do that?”
“Family business.”
“You’re an arms dealer?” She glanced at Val’Koy. “Did you know this?”
“News to me,” he said, a small lift to the corner of his mouth.
“I was, yes.” He reached over and flipped up her hood and then his own, Val’Koy doing the same. “We should go. These were scouts, and I would wager my venomous barbs they alerted their nest as soon as they spotted us.”
“You have venomous barbs?” Why that—of all things—had her curious said something about her unhealthy obsession with their bodies.
Jruviin lashed his tail in response. The light nearly glinted off the mace-like end dotted through with sharp spines that were soft, and seemingly harmless, when relaxed. How many times had he run that tip along her body? And all this time she’d never known the quills were poisonous.
“Thanks for the heads up.” She gulped. Clearly she’d gotten too comfortable around the aliens that, at the end of the day, were still vicious predators.
Her lust for him only grew. Maybe she had a death wish.
Val’Koy leveled her with a glare. “You worry about that after everything that just went down?”
Dania blinked. “Priorities.”
He groaned.
“Guess we will not be making those calls.” Jruviin grasped her hand and they made their way out of the shop. Already a crowd was forming, fingers pointing at the four
dead scouts in red armor.
“Why not? We could really use some help right now.”
“They know we are here,” Jruviin answered. “Others might too, but no reason to alert anyone to our presence with a call.”
“It would be nice if we only had to worry about one set of mercs coming at our hides.”
“Oh.”
One of the major rules of nomad life popped into her head—which she seemed to be forgetting the more time she spent in the presence of these imposing aliens. When in the dangerous and infinite wild west that was space...
Trust no one.
FORTY-SEVEN
JRUVIIN
“This is because of the Drinish glyphs, isn’t it?” Dania queried, her voice winded as they weaved through the crowds. If she weren’t so stubborn, one of them could carry her and move much faster.
“Because you used your Tundrin account, right?” She cursed. “I knew that would bite us in the ass!”
“Possibly.” Yes, they did use their Tundrin winnings to pay for everything since the escape. Val’Koy no longer had his chip and no one needed the headache that would be triggered if Jruviin used his personal accounts.
Any activity on those and Piktiin would be alerted since they’d been confiscated when he got sold. The last thing he wanted was for his father to show up. No doubt he’d have his lackeys in tow. They already had enough problems right now.
And there was no fucking way he was getting dragged back to Tundrin or even Dravidim, his abysmal home planet. He was determined to go somewhere new.
“Possibly?” Dania pressed.
“It may have been a stroke of misfortune,” Jruviin countered. “For us.”
“You’re saying they just happened to know we’re here and they weren’t tracking your Drinish account?” she dryly lobbed, her disbelief bordering sarcasm.
All right, so it was a longshot, Jruviin could admit, but not improbable.
“Maybe you should ask the mercs next time we run into one,” Val’Koy antagonized. Jruviin had the sudden urge to sigh. Why they did this to each other, he didn’t know. Any other time and he might find it amusing.
Not now. Not when Greesh mercs were on their trail. The vermin ran in numbers. Their tactics were to overwhelm their target. The credits shared among them weren’t the real reward—the hunt was.
