“So he should be. Mehabs aren’t known for their charming manners. He was a bit menacing.”
“A bit. He seemed arrogant, like he knows how good-looking he is.”
“So you admit you think he’s hot.”
“No! I mean, okay, he is striking.”
“He was sure of himself,” Heather said. “That’s not always a bad thing. You know he’d protect you. I’ve seen him around the station. I think he’s a bounty hunter.”
It didn’t surprise Avril to hear that. Mehabs used their predator skills to hunt down criminals. Many worked in law enforcement and often worked alongside Galaxars to protect planet inhabitants who weren’t so great at looking after themselves.
Some branched out and went solo, preferring to hunt down the bounties the Council of Representatives placed on criminals.
“You were flirting with him,” Heather said slyly.
“I was not.” Avril hid her face behind her mug. “I don’t know how to flirt. Every time I try, it feels like my tongue swells up in my mouth, and I lose the power of speech.”
“You spoke well enough to catch Iska’s eye. He flirted with you.”
Avril huffed out a laugh. “Then he needs glasses.”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself. You’re a gorgeous woman. Any alien would want to flirt with you.”
Avril shook her head. Aliens considered her weird. Despite the fact some aliens came with tentacles, squirted exotic goo, and had a tendency to shed fur and scratch things, they all considered her bizarre. Maybe it was the combination of red hair and green eyes, but most of them looked at her like she was some strange oddity that deserved to be in a freak show. Few ever tried to chat her up or buy her a drink. She’d spent a long time alone, and one side of her bed always felt cold and unloved.
“Didn’t he say something about having a game with you?” Heather asked. “You could have that in common if he likes to role-play.”
“He was teasing. Someone like Iska wouldn’t play in the holo suite.”
“Why not? Everyone needs a place to blow off steam.”
“Even if he does, an alien as cool as Iska wouldn’t be into me. I bet he has loads of women chasing after him, wanting to stroke his fur and play with his tail.”
“He does fill out his clothes nicely.” Heather grinned as she picked up her screwdriver again and undid another section of the casing on Dingbat. “When did you last have a date?”
Avril grimaced. It had been years. “I’m too busy for dates. I have my work.”
Heather’s nose wrinkled. “We all have our work. There’s more to life than work.”
“I have my role-playing. I love that.” She set down her mug and leaned forward. “I’m getting close to a spot in the final.”
“To win the fantasy gamer’s prize?”
Avril nodded. She’d been working on this ever since she’d joined the games. The first day she’d entered, she’d seen a competition to win a trip to the beautiful tropical planet Halina to claim her prize of two million holo suite credits, a trophy, and the title of holo suite champion. Every time she thought about the possibility of winning, a tingle ran down her spine. When she won, everything would be perfect.
“How many more points do you need to guarantee a spot?”
“Another three hundred kills should do it.” Avril had run the calculations several times. The harder the opponent was to kill, the more points you got. If she had a run of wild dragons, she’d only need to kill a dozen, but simple kills, like dwarves or gremlins, only bagged you ten points apiece.
“Three hundred kills! I never took you for someone who liked violence.”
“This is fantasy violence. It’s a completely different thing. No one gets hurt. Besides, everyone needs a hobby.”
“Not everyone’s hobby is so murder-orientated.” Heather twirled the screwdriver in her fingers.
“It’s not murder-orientated. It’s about solving puzzles and removing obstacles.”
Heather nodded. She’d always been sympathetic to Avril’s obsession with role-playing games. “As much fun as that all sounds, being involved in the real world is also entertaining.”
Avril sat back in her seat. She found the real world confusing and exhausting. Everyone rushed around and were so busy and focused on their own goals. The little people often got trampled or left in the shadows.
There was another complication. Everyone she knew was either coupled up or dating. Her boss, Vegas, had fallen for a gorgeous Galaxar. Heather lived with Loka, and even Poison Ivy had found love with a Forka. It seemed everyone was in a relationship.
It made Avril feel left out and alone, even more out of place than usual. She didn’t fit in the real world. In the gaming world, she was a queen. Everyone respected her. Everyone knew who she was, and everyone wanted to play with her. If only it was like that in real life.
The door to Heather’s room opened. Loka strode through.
Heather jumped to her feet and ran over to kiss him.
Loka scooped her up in his arms and twirled her around, making Heather laugh. His kiss turned into a long one as he bent her backwards, his hands holding her against him.
Avril looked away and tried to ignore the sadness that slid through her. She was thrilled her friend was so happy. Heather had been a loner until she’d met Loka. Avril hoped that one day she’d find that; she’d find the kind of love they shared. It looked like a lot of fun.
When she won the gaming tournament, Avril would have guys falling over themselves to be with her. That was her focus, get enough points, kill enough monsters, and win the tournament.
Loka finally let go of Heather, and they walked over to Dingbat. Loka’s arm was tucked securely around Heather’s waist.
“Avril,” he said, as he nodded a greeting.
“Good day working in the lab?” Avril pasted a smile on her face. It wasn’t Loka’s fault he was so happy to be with Heather or that seeing that happiness made Avril’s gut ache and her throat tight.
“We made good progress today. We completed another round of samples and are heading out tomorrow to inspect some dark matter.”
“Be careful,” Heather said. “You know I worry when you go on an expedition.”
“I am always careful.” Loka tenderly kissed Heather’s lips. He looked down at the open casing of Dingbat. “What have we got here?”
“Don’t worry. It’s not another Ernie. I’m fixing him for someone.”
Loka peered at the workings of the bot. “That’s unusual. It has an extra drive.”
Heather grabbed the screwdriver and bent over Dingbat. “You’re right. Let’s see what’s on there.”
Avril had just taken a sip of hot chocolate when Dingbat spasmed on the table as Heather accessed the drive.
A beam of light shot out of Dingbat, and images and text scrolled against the wall.
Avril lowered her mug and approached the wall. Pictures of wanted criminals and their bounties shot past.
“This must be some of Iska’s work,” Heather said.
Loka gave a low whistle. “He’s busy, whoever he is. I recognize some of these images. These are dangerous aliens.”
“He’s a bounty hunter,” Heather said.
Loka frowned. “You are friends with this bounty hunter?”
Heather reached up and stroked his horn. “Don’t go getting jealous. We bumped into each other when he was on his way to engineering. I offered to fix his bot.”
Avril continued to study the images and data that flashed against the wall. Iska worked hard. He must have serious fighting skills to have brought down that many criminals. He’d also be wealthy. These bounties had head-spinning amounts attached to them.
“What’s that?” She pointed at the scene of two aliens sparring. “That doesn’t look like it’s got to do with bounty hunting.”
Loka snorted. “It’s a fight club. It’s where aliens go when they need to batter each other senseless. Illegal, but they happen.”
�
�They happen on the station?” Avril asked, not able to take her eyes off the two bare-chested warriors as they pounded into each other. The sight was stimulating. The fighters’ skin was soaked with sweat, and their eyes narrowed with intense focus as they looked for a way to attack their enemy.
It was how Avril operated when she fought in the games. Look for your enemy’s weakness and exploit it. That was how you won. That was how you got people to respect you.
“I’m not sure there are any fights happening on Prodigy,” Loka said. “If so, it’s not something you want to go to.”
“Why not?” Avril asked.
“You can’t seriously be interested in going to watch a fight,” Heather said. “That place will be dangerous. Full of overexcited aliens wanting to beat the hell out of each other and anyone else who gets in their way. That includes you.”
Avril chewed on a nail as she continued to watch the fight. “I guess not. It was just a thought. You told me I need to get into the real world more.”
“In a safe way.” Heather patted her shoulder. “I meant, get a hobby with real people. Maybe join a reading club or a spacewalking club. There’s a new one going to explore Quadrant Four next week. That could be fun.”
Avril’s nose wrinkled. Although she lived in space, she wasn’t all that keen on going out there and exploring it wearing just a space suit. She got nervous about the possibility of getting a hole in her suit when she was outside or being sucked into some black hole and having her lungs explode.
“I’ll stick to my role-play games and early nights,” Avril said.
“Think about it. Space walks are fun.” Heather tugged Loka back to Dingbat. “Let’s see what happens when we take out the drive. That could be what’s making this bot overheat.”
Avril kept watching the images on the wall. An announcement flashed up. There was a fight club on the station. A fight was happening tonight.
She glanced over her shoulder. Neither Loka nor Heather had noticed, already absorbed in fixing Dingbat.
It was time she got into the real world and saw some fighting up close and personal. The real thing this time, not something fake in a game.
She made a mental note of the information before it vanished. It was time for excitement and danger. And if she just so happened to bump into Iska while she was there, so much the better.
Chapter 4
Iska ducked a punch and jabbed a fist into his opponent’s stomach. He met hard muscle but knew his contact would bruise.
He danced backwards on his toes and swiped sweat from his brow. When he fought, he always retracted his pale blond fur. It was a skill all Mehabs had. It helped them blend in when they were tracking prey. Whatever situation he was in, he liked to be unnoticed. He stuck to the shadows; he preferred it that way.
Iska’s opponent in the ring was a hyped-up, scarred Dackin. From his pinprick pupils, Iska knew he was high on something. Black blood oozed from the Dackin’s cheek where Iska had gotten in a solid strike.
No matter how many blows he landed, the Dackin didn’t damn well slow. Nothing seemed to tire him. It must be thanks to whatever stimulant raced through his veins.
Not that Iska cared. He enjoyed a good fight, the sweatier and bloodier the better. Tonight, he wasn’t just here to mess someone up. His bounty had been spotted coming to these illegal fights.
By being here, Iska could let off steam and get a payday. When he was cooped up in one place for too long and didn’t have an outlet for his energy, he got edgy. Iska wasn’t fun to be around when he was on edge.
That was one of the reasons he’d started playing in the holo suite games. Killing ogres and imaginary monsters took the edge off his own predatory urges. It kept him sane and less likely to rip out someone’s throat if they looked at him the wrong way.
But nothing beats the real thing. Getting his fists bloody and making his muscles work helped him sleep better.
The Dackin roared and charged at Iska, slicing his talons through the air.
Iska sidestepped the attack easily. Whatever the Dackin was on, it made him hyperactive but clumsy. Sweat poured off him, drenching his feathers and leaving tiny pools on the ground. If this moron didn’t slow down, he’d overheat and pass out. Victory would be Iska’s. It wasn’t exactly the win he was going for, but he’d take it.
As the Dackin bounced off the ropes of the fight ring, Iska took a second to check the crowd. There must have been a hundred aliens and a few humans in the audience. The smell of sweat and alcohol filled the air as they pressed closer to the fight ring, keen to get close to the blood and violence.
He didn’t care about them. He was looking for his bounty. The last communication alert he’d received had told him the fugitive he chased had visited the last fight. He could be here tonight in the crowd.
The Dackin attacked again. “I’ll kill you, you sneaky son of a whore.”
“My mother was a bitch, but she was no whore.” Iska slammed his fist into the Dackin’s feathered chest.
The Dackin shrieked in rage.
Iska blocked several punches before slamming his knee into the Dackin’s gut and following through with a kick to his face, being careful to avoid the edges of his curved beak.
There was one rule in fight club. Whoever was knocked out first, no matter how it happened, was the winner.
He bounced on his toes, moving away from the Dackin, his attention still on the crowd.
A figure with the hood of their sweatshirt pulled up drifted around the edge of the room. Their head was down as if they paid no attention to the fight.
This got Iska interested. Anyone who came here wanted to see the fight. This person was making sure no one saw their face. They had to be hiding something.
His eyes narrowed. This individual was too small to be his bounty. The shoulders were hunched, and hands buried deep in the pockets of the sweatshirt. The figure slunk closer to the ring, and Iska saw a flash of red hair.
He inhaled deeply trying to get the person’s scent but was overwhelmed by the acrid tang of underarm sweat and stale beer.
Iska tilted his head as a smile crept across his face. It couldn’t be his warrior princess. Would she have risked coming to a fight knowing he’d be here? Had she sought him out?
The Dackin charged Iska and knocked him off his feet. His fists pounded into his back as he was slammed to the floor.
“You star damned piece of space shit.” Iska’s fury was more for himself than the Dackin. He’d allowed himself to be caught off-guard because of a flash of red hair. He could lose the fight because of this moronic lapse in concentration. He never lost a fight.
As the Dackin rained punches down on him, Iska took in a deep breath and centered himself. Transferring his weight into his hips, he slammed his hips up into the Dackin and knocked him off-balance.
Iska rolled to his feet and smashed a fist and then a foot into the Dackin’s head. He’d only been playing with his opponent, killing time as he waited to see if his bounty would show.
This fight was over. Iska wanted to see who this hooded mystery person was. He wasn’t convinced it was Avril, but she was the only person he knew who was so tiny and came with that shock of red hair.
Intrigue filled him. If it was her, what would bring her to a shithole like this? How did she even know about the fights on the station? She was a role-playing geek. This couldn’t be the kind of thing that got her off. Unless she liked a bit of rough. If so, she was in the right place. No one in this room played by the rules. If any of the scum in here got their hands on someone as sweet as Avril, they’d destroy her. The thought sat uneasily in Iska’s mind.
The Dackin rose unsteadily to his knees, his face a mess of black blood and one eye almost shut from where he’d been punched.
“Give up, my friend,” Iska said.
“Fuck you,” the Dackin slurred.
“Right back at you.” Iska landed one more punch. The Dackin flopped backwards, his arms and legs flung out like a starfish.
The crowd roared their approval and beat their feet on the ground, making the room shake.
“We have another victory for our reigning champion, Iska.” The ringmaster, a squat Yeknod with a squashed snout and twisted bronze horns, jumped into the ring and grabbed Iska’s hand, thrusting it over his head in a show of victory.
The crowd roared again.
Iska accepted the praise and pats on the back well enough as he headed through the crowd, blinking the sweat out of his eyes as he did so.
“You don’t want another fight?” the ringmaster shouted after him.
Iska shook his head and waved a hand in the air. He wouldn’t have minded pounding out the rest of his frustration on someone else, but he had another target in mind. He wanted to know if Avril had followed him and what she was doing.
“Another time,” the ringmaster called. “Someone has to defeat you.”
Iska nodded, barely listening to him. He made a circuit of the room, but Avril was nowhere to be seen. Maybe she’d taken one look at what was going on and been repulsed. She could have found this place by accident and not realized what she’d stumbled into until it was too late.
If she’d seen him fighting, she might believe he was as shady as everyone else in the room.
Iska shrugged, his fingers clenching rhythmically. She was right. He’d lived his life on the wrong side of the law for a long time. Avril was right to stay well away from anything he might be tempted to offer her. Not that he had much. Not yet, but he soon would.
Convinced she wasn’t there, Iska headed out of the room and along the dark corridor that took him out of the bowels of the station where the fight club was held and back toward the main corridors.
Avril was nowhere to be seen. She was moving fast and making an escape attempt.
Iska grinned to himself as he inhaled deeply. He got the scent of a female on the air. It was her. It had to be.
As he reached a branch in the corridor, he slowed and considered his options. A smile spread across his face. This was his favorite kind of hunt, where his prey put up a fight and made it difficult for him.
Iska Page 3
