Hotbloods 6: Allies

by Bella Forrest

  “Do you think we have enough, with these knives and the guns we brought?”

  Ronad looked doubtful. “I think we might have to see what we can buy from the Junkyard itself. There are plenty of things we can trade or sell from the ship, even without the stuff Killick took with him.”

  I thought about the small bottle of serum that Kaido had made for me, and the powerful abilities it held within. If we couldn’t protect ourselves against Stone and the other criminals on the Junkyard with weapons and traditional means, then I would have to rely on that extra boost. Well, as long as it actually worked when the time came…

  We went back into the cockpit, and the others turned to us with expectant eyes. “What’d you find?” Angie asked.

  “A couple of knives. And a drill,” I said, chuckling tightly. It was a sorry situation.

  “Same here,” Ronad added. “Although, we’ve still got the guns from the Coeptis, so we’re not going in there completely unarmed.”

  An anxious air settled over the group as the Junkyard appeared through the windshield. We were approaching fast, with Bashrik turning on the invisibility shield as we came closer. It wasn’t enough to land on the planet undetected; we needed to explore and search for Lauren undetected, too.

  Chapter Twelve

  As the cruiser pushed through the Junkyard’s atmosphere, I could see that it was a very urban planet, with haphazard structures sprawling across the surface, and not a patch of greenery in sight. There were stretches of what appeared to be water, but instead of deep blue, they were a sludgy shade of brown. Everything looked rusty and grimy, with hills of scrap metal and graveyards of burnt-out ships instead of mountains and valleys. Plumes of thick smoke billowed from patchwork buildings, and vessels were taking off and setting down all over the place.

  Navan wrapped his arms around my waist from behind, holding me tightly to him, as we descended toward a particularly scrappy-looking part of the planet, where no smoke billowed and no ships seemed to be visiting. Fortunately, it appeared to be quite close to the flashing green dot, but not so close that we’d risk anyone bumping into our cruiser.

  “The Vysantheans took control of this planet decades ago,” he murmured sadly. “It used to be covered in fertile forests and grassy plains, with a native species and a thriving ecosystem. They came here and destroyed it, the same way they’ve done with so many other planets. When it was finally barren, with nothing left to give, the Vysantheans left it to die, abandoning it to whoever came along first.”

  “Gangsters, pirates, and thieves?” I said wryly.

  “Hey, it’s like I keep saying—Vysantheans are all those things, just with nicer clothes!” Mort chimed in, cackling to himself. “Only, when they do it, it’s called ‘cultural exchange’ and ‘pioneering.’ Am I right?”

  Navan ignored him as we watched the ground rise to meet us. We’d picked a spot beside a polluted canal, with Bashrik tucking the ship behind a high stack of scrap metal, where nobody seemed to be walking. A few boats went past, the clang of metal chiming through the smog that drifted off the grimy water, but the parking spot appeared to be just what we were looking for. The smog gave us a bit of extra cover to sneak out of the cruiser and onto the planet’s surface.

  “So, who’s coming?” I asked, as the ship came to a standstill. Taking the compass off the dashboard, I moved through the cockpit and over to the hatch with the others. Leveling my gaze at them, I slid a gun into the waistband of my pants and strapped a knife around my calf. There was no way I was being left behind, not when Lauren was waiting out there.

  “If you’re going, I’m going,” Navan replied firmly, doing the same with another gun and knife.

  “I’ll come along too,” Bashrik said, reaching out for a third set.

  Mort shrugged. “Not looking forward to wandering around a rusty crap-hole, to be honest.”

  Ronad grimaced. “I guess someone needs to stay behind and guard the ship. Preferably, someone who can fly this thing and keep Mort from touching everything,” he muttered, flashing a warning look at the shifter.

  “I do love getting in all the crevices,” he whined, pouting his fleshy lips and licking them licentiously.

  I shuddered. “Just try not to frighten poor Ronad away, okay?”

  “Spoilsport,” he murmured, pretending to sulk.

  “Angie, you coming?” I asked, knowing she’d want to be there when we found Lauren.

  She bit her lip. “I really want to come and find her, but I’m not very good with a gun. Do you think I’ll be okay out there?”

  Before I could even open my mouth, Bashrik interjected. “No way. Navan might be crazy enough to let his girlfriend out amongst murderers and thieves, but I’m not letting mine.”

  I frowned at him. “You don’t really get to have a say, Bashrik. You’re her boyfriend, not her keeper. If she wants to come and help us rescue Lauren, she has every right to,” I said. “I’m not about to let you stand in the way of that. You know very well that Angie can handle herself, with or without a gun.”

  Angie smiled, and I was glad things had returned to normal between us. “You heard her, Bash. I’m going, whether you like it or not. Wild horses couldn’t keep me away from finding Lauren.”

  “It’s dangerous!” Bashrik protested.

  “I don’t care. My friend is out there, and I’m going to help get her back.”

  He sighed. “All right. But I’m not taking my eyes off you!”

  Smiling, Angie took a gun and a knife from the collection we’d piled together. Now that we were all armed and ready, Bashrik opened the hatch and let us out onto the Junkyard’s surface, though he still seemed reluctant to let Angie come with us.

  Regardless, we pressed on, slipping down the gangway and around the stack of scrap metal, leaving the canal behind us. The smell hit me first as we rounded the corner—a pungent mix of sulfur, rust, burning, and rotting things. Next was the noise, clanging in my ears, chiming across the endless heaps of scrap and ship carcasses. I couldn’t see much through the fog that rolled off the water, but our surroundings cleared the farther we got from the ship.

  It was ten minutes before we reached a populated area of the Junkyard, where the towers of metal had been positioned to form winding streets and alleyways. People were shouting from various structures, and signs swung from bars across several entrances, though I didn’t know what they were supposed to represent. In truth, I wouldn’t have even known they were buildings if there hadn’t been people poking out of gaps in the metal and walking through the sheets of metal that acted as doorways.

  “Stand tall and don’t look anyone in the eye,” Navan whispered, as we walked along confidently. “That’s the quickest way to start a fight in this place. They don’t care if you’re male, female, adult, child—they’ll pick a fight with anyone.”

  “Noted,” I whispered back, though it was easier said than done. There were so many interesting characters walking around, looking like they’d stepped out of the pages of a fantasy story. A scarred, spiny creature stalked past with a patch over his eye, crossing paths with a gangly, turquoise-skinned lizard-person who had two blades instead of hands. Honestly, I wanted to stare at every single one of them.

  I’d tucked the compass into the inside pocket of my jacket and kept checking it discreetly as we wandered along, following the flashing green dot. It was getting bigger with each step we took, the map having narrowed to focus on the target.

  “This way,” I said, leading us down a dingy alleyway. It opened onto a wider road, where crowds swarmed across the trash-littered ground. The people walking alongside us seemed particularly shady in this part of the Junkyard, though they were an eclectic mix of species. Most of them were facially scarred and tattooed, with guns dangling from harnesses strapped across their bodies, and blades glinting in the hot sun. It was almost like they were proud of their weapons, showing them off as a warning to anyone who might try anything. Barely any of them had any teeth, unless they were jag
ged or fanged, and there was a sinister glitter in most of their eyes, though I forced myself not to look for too long.

  Up on a rusting, wrought-iron balcony, alien women dressed in scanty clothing leered over the edge, whistling at Navan and Bashrik as they passed underneath. A few more sat on windowsills, their limbs draped across the ledges, flashing glimpses of what they were selling.

  “Hey, coldblood, you need a little warming up?” one shouted licentiously, shimmying her top down to reveal a violet, scaly cleavage.

  “Yeah, grayskin, you fancy a bite?” another yelled, smirking.

  “Hey, how about two for the price of one?” a third barked, in a deep voice that made her stand out.

  Navan leaned down to my ear. “Please, make them stop,” he whispered, laughing softly.

  “Grayskin, don’t be so coy—the smooth-skinned baby can come with you! She can join us for free. I’ve never seen one like her before!” the first alien shouted. “I’d love a taste of what the two of you are offering!”

  “You interested?” I teased.

  He grinned. “No way. I’ve got everything I need right here.”

  Bashrik and Angie were following close behind, though poor Bashrik looked mortified at the sound of the alien women calling to him. Angie, on the other hand, was finding it hilarious, shoving him in the ribs and pointing up at a woman with long black hair and bright red fur covering most of her body.

  “It’s just up ahead,” I whispered, my attention distracted by the glow of the green spot, which was now blinking rapidly.

  Standing at the end of the road was a towering metal shack, made from the sleek sides of several wrecked ships. The green dot was inside, according to the map, which had shrunk down to show the layout of the Junkyard. This had to be where Lauren was being kept; we were getting painfully close now.

  “We’ll have to take Stone and his cronies by surprise, in case they’re all in there too,” Navan suggested. All four of us stepped into the shadows of a nearby building so we could piece our plan together. If we messed it up now, there was no telling what Stone might do to Lauren.

  “Especially considering his third eye. We need to make sure we avoid it at all costs,” I said, looking at the others. “If we can attack before he has the chance to remove his bandana, we might be able to dodge it altogether.”

  Angie nodded. “It looks like there’s an alleyway down the side of the building. I’m guessing it leads around to the back. If two of us go that way, and two of us find a different way in, we’ll stand a better chance. I don’t want to risk using the front door.”

  “Well, I’m not leaving your side, so it looks like you and I are going together,” Bashrik said, glancing at the towering structure. A few people had come in and out of the front entrance, but none of them were familiar.

  I smiled at his attachment, knowing Angie would never allow him to get overly possessive. “How about Navan and I go around the side, while the two of you head around the back?”

  “Sounds good to me,” Angie agreed, with Bashrik grunting his reluctant response.

  “Then let’s go get our girl,” I whispered, feeling the nerves take hold.

  Without another moment to lose, Navan and I headed for the side of the building, while Angie and Bashrik slipped around the back. There was a window cut into the sleek façade, but no glass to keep anyone from clambering in, which was precisely what we did. Navan went first, making it look ridiculously easy, vaulting through the gap, before reaching through to help me climb up and over the ledge. The ragged sides of the frame scraped at my clothes as I pulled myself through and dropped down on the other side, sweating profusely.

  “You okay?” Navan asked.

  “I will be,” I replied, glancing around the room we found ourselves in.

  It looked like an old-style smoking room of some sort, with tables and chairs spread out across the vast space, and a vaulted ceiling complete with dangling chandeliers crafted from broken bits of glass that had undoubtedly been reclaimed from the scrapyards. Nobody was in the room, however, the whole place steeped in dim light and a blanket of dust. Evidently, it hadn’t been used in a long time.

  I took Navan’s hand as we crept toward the door at the far side of the room and paused beside the wall, listening for any sound. There was a splinter of light coming through a gap in the metal door, prompting me to duck down and peer through. I’d been expecting a hallway, but instead my eyes were met by an adjoining room, and my ears were treated to the sound of two people talking.

  “It’s an intriguing prospect,” I heard a deep, masculine voice say.

  “I hoped you might say that,” another male voice said.

  I tried to get a closer look at the two people, but they were sitting at a funny angle, in a peculiar lounge that was empty except for them. From where I was crouched, it was impossible to get a good look at them, but I couldn’t ignore the familiarity I’d heard in both their voices.

  “What can you see?” Navan asked, his voice barely a whisper.

  “Not much.”

  I moved around, hoping it might help me see them better. As I struggled to eavesdrop, waiting for the two individuals to speak again, I was reminded of the house where I’d first met Navan, back in the hazy heat of a Texan summer. I remembered lying flat on the ground, listening to Navan, Jethro, Bashrik, and Ianthan try to decide what to do about the three human girls they’d locked up.

  It was so strange to think about it now, after everything we’d been through. I couldn’t imagine an existence without Navan in it, and yet I couldn’t help wondering what my life might have been like, if I hadn’t met him. Where would I be, if we’d ignored the cry in the night and lived out our final summer together, before college, the way we’d planned? I pictured myself wandering through a college hallway, books clutched to my chest, chatting away with some new friends I’d made and making eyes at a cute guy I’d seen in a seminar. Only, the girl in that image didn’t quite feel like me. She was the one I’d lost in coming out here, following the coldbloods; she was the girl I’d never see again. There was something deeply sad in that, but there was nothing I could do about it. It couldn’t be changed or reversed.

  “Yes, I’m very glad you came to me with this,” the first, deep voice said.

  “How could I not?” the second purred.

  Their names were just on the tip of my tongue, when one of the figures leaned forward to pluck their drink off the table. I gasped instinctively, clamping my hands down over my mouth and praying they hadn’t heard me. Navan shot me a worried look, but I shook my head at him.

  No, it can’t be. I must be seeing things, I thought, all of this suddenly feeling like some sort of horrible dream.

  I peered through the gap again, wanting to be sure. As I did so, the other figure leaned to the side of their armchair, giving me a full view of half their face. Half was all I needed, to complete the nightmare that was playing out in front of me.

  This isn’t real, this isn’t real, this isn’t real, I repeated in my head.

  Except, this was very real. There was a balding man with gray sideburns sitting in the nearside armchair, leaning to place his drink back on the table. Only, this wasn’t just any balding man—this was the president of the United States. And sitting across from him, half his face visible to my dumbfounded eyes, was Ezra.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “What is it?” Navan asked, ducking down beside me.

  “Ezra… and the president of the United States!” I hissed, unable to believe that I was putting those words in the same sentence.

  Navan’s eyes went wide with horror. “No way!”

  “Yes way—I’m looking right at them!”

  “What are they saying?” he pressed, resting his hand on my shoulder.

  “It’s hard to tell,” I said. “Let me listen again.”

  Ezra was staring expectantly at the president as he tapped his thick fingers on the armrest. Even though the chair was huge, Ezra’s imposing size seem
ed to dwarf it, while his menacing, dark eyes seemed to reflect the light, as though they were mirrored—a feature I’d almost forgotten. It had been so long since we’d encountered one another, and I wasn’t planning on coming face-to-face with him again anytime soon.

  “These are big plans we’re talking about here. They could change a great deal and will certainly help with matters of security on Earth,” the president said, in that voice I’d heard a thousand times on the TV. I knew my parents hadn’t voted for him, but the populace seemed to like him well enough. He definitely wasn’t the kind of man I’d expected to be in cahoots with a villain like Ezra.

  “What I’m offering can open up an entire universe, Mr. President,” Ezra said with a smirk. “These things are the secret to the stars, and I am willing to give you that secret.”

  “For the right price,” the president remarked wryly.

  “Everything has a price, Mr. President. You know that. However, I should hope you know me well enough by now to know that I would never cheat you.”

  “You have certainly held true to your promises so far,” the president replied.

  “And I will continue to do so, Mr. President. Ours is a mutually beneficial friendship, which is only just beginning,” Ezra assured him. “There is far more possibility in our future, which I am very much looking forward to showing you.”

  There was something bear-like and sinister about Ezra, and seeing him like this only reminded me of that fact. I wanted to rush in there and ask the president what the hell he thought he was doing, but common sense held me back. Their conversation was vague, but there was enough in there to be worried about. Evidently, Ezra—likely on behalf of Orion—had offered something powerful in exchange for something else. It was that latter unknown that concerned me the most. Ezra’s offering would likely be powerful weapons or spaceships, but what had been offered in return? It had to be something substantial; otherwise, Orion wouldn’t have bothered agreeing to it. After all, he appeared to have sent his emissary all the way out here to meet with the president, presumably as an attempt to win the president over, proving that a whole, sentient universe existed beyond the realms of Earth.