“Shit,” Thalia said again because it bore repeating. “Shit, shit, shit.”
Hyde frowned and looked around. “What, is that your ex?”
“I wish,” Thalia said, tossing a few credit chits on the bar and hastily grabbing her bag. “We should leave now.”
“Look,” Hyde said, pulling away, “you’re real cute, but I’ve got enough shit in my life without whatever it is you’re involved in. You’re gonna want to leave me out of this one.”
“Too late,” Thalia said, grabbing his shirt and staring wide-eyed over his shoulder. “I’m here for you, and that’s the only reason I can think of that they’d be here for me, so you’re already pretty involved. Can we please run away now?”
She could feel the way Hyde went tense. “What do you mean, you’re here for me?” he asked, low and dangerous.
“Two choices here, buddy,” Thalia hissed. “You can get the fuck out of here with me and I’ll explain everything later, or you can stay here and maybe one of them will tell you what’s happening before putting a bullet in your skull.”
Hyde stared at her a long second, then grabbed her arm and started pulling her through the crowd toward the back door.
They burst out into the cool night air a moment later. Thalia, never the best athlete, stumbled forward and only avoided falling on her face thanks to Hyde’s iron grip on her arm.
“When we get to the ship,” he told her as he yanked her behind him, “you’re going to explain everything. Anything you lie to us about, or neglect to mention to us, will have some very negative consequences.”
As far as Thalia was concerned, that still beat finding out what the two goons that had been following her had planned.
“So, this is awkward,” she told him as she struggled to keep up with him, “but we really need to go to my hotel room to get my stuff.”
The choice swear words that came out of Hyde’s mouth in response to that would have made an Outer Rim dock worker blush. “You must be out of your goddamn mind if you think—”
“All my things are there,” she hurriedly said over his objection. “That includes my equipment. I think we’d both prefer it if that stayed with me.”
Thalia could nearly hear the grind of Hyde’s teeth. “Where?”
“The Grinning Knave. It’s a few blocks that way,” she told him, pointing.
Muttering under his breath, he changed direction, still dragging her after him.
“Knew it was a stupid fucking idea,” he said. “’Oh, Hyde, go relax, get a drink. What’s the worst that could happen?’ Fucking knew it.”
“To be fair,” Thalia said peaceably, “this seems like a pretty run of the mill encounter for you.”
“See, the fact that you know that? Not helping me relax,” he told her through gritted teeth.
The journey to the Grinning Knave was mercifully short. She’d picked that place out to be convenient and was suddenly very, very glad she’d done so. They nodded at the receptionist as they passed, making a beeline for the elevator. Once inside, Thalia punched the button for the fifteenth floor, then leaned against the wall.
“So this is fun,” she said, closing her eyes and pressing her forehead to the metal of the elevator. She was still a little dizzy, but the shock of the events at the bar had done a god job of cutting through the haze of alcohol. Nothing said “sobriety” like abject terror.
“As soon as I find out what I need to know from you, I swear, I’m going to drop you into a black hole,” he said murderously.
“See, that’s a horrible tactic. Now I don’t want to tell you anything. Also, you were so nice at the bar, can we go back to that, please?” Thalia responded, trying to get her breathing under control as quietly as possible.
“Who are you with, anyways?” Hyde demanded. “Blackfangs? Blue Tongues? The Red Hand?”
“Actually, I’m with the Periwinkle Toes. We’re a new gang starting out of Fenos, we specialize in assassination and mahjong,” she said, opening her eyes and turning to look at him. At the look on his face, she sighed. “I’m not with anyone. I couldn’t convince anyone to come with me.”
“To do what?”
“To talk to you.” She shifted her stance. “I’m a journalist. I wanted to interview you for a story.”
Hyde snorted. “Sure. A journalist. That’s exactly the type that runs away from possible assassins without breaking a sweat. Who are you really?”
“I assure you, I’m sweating plenty. You go very, very quickly when motivated.” She rummaged in her bag for her wallet and, after finding it, gave him her ID. “My name’s Thalia Addams. I’m from Goton. I work for a local paper in the Blackstone district.”
“This could be a fake,” he said. “What story could possibly important enough to go through all this just to get it?”
“Serkot,” Thalia said right as the doors opened with a ding. She powerwalked out, heading straight for her room and digging in her pocket for the room key. She fumbled a few times due to the shaking of her hands—embarrassing, she thought—before managing to open the door.
Her room was neat, only a few things not still in her suitcase. She habitually traveled light and had gone to the club almost immediately after checking in, so it was easy to sweep everything into the case and zip it up. She turned to find Hyde standing in the doorway, waiting on her. There was nothing left of the smirking man from the bar left in him. Now, he resembled a particularly homicidal statue as he stood rigid, something dark burning in his eye.
“Why do you want to ask me about Serkot?” he asked, his voice deathly calm.
“Now? Really?” Thalia asked, trying to push past him.
“Yes, now. I’m trying to decide if I should just kill you now or not,” he replied.
“Please don’t,” Thalia said. “Okay, so, long story short. Seven years ago, you were an exemplary member of southern Serkot’s Red Quarters until all of a sudden, Councilor Marcus winds up dead with your DNA all over the scene. You flee. Obviously, you know all of this. What I’m trying to write my article about is what really happened. Logan Tillman, the man who framed you, did it because he wanted to be able to push his registration bill and didn’t have enough votes. After framing you, not only did he have enough votes to get the bill passed, he got elected to chancellor.”
“Shockingly, I have been keeping up with the news on that,” Hyde said drily.
“Have you been keeping up with the aftermath of the registration bill passing? Things were already bad for shifters in in the Gorgon system. Don’t think I didn’t go over how much you had to get a place in the guard. After the Tillman debacle, it only got worse. Anti-shifter violence isn’t legally considered a hate crime there anymore.”
Hyde raised an eyebrow. “And you think one little article is going to change that?”
“If it’s just one little article, what’s the harm in letting me write it?” Thalia countered.
“Are you really asking me that right now, while we’re running from the people after you?”
Thalia considered his point. “Fair enough.”
“So as much as I don’t want to ask this,” Hyde said, looking like someone who was about to attend his own execution, “but what are you going to do next?”
Thalia blinked. “I beg your pardon?”
“After we get out of here,” Hyde expanded, gesturing at the room. “Where are you planning to go?”
“A different inn, where I plan to use a fake ID to get a ticket online. Hopefully I can shake these assholes for a while,” Thalia said. “Maybe they’ll think I gave up on the story and fuck off.”
Hyde snorted. “Speaking from experience, Tillman’s not the sort to just let things go. You need a more permanent plan.”
Thalia thought for a moment. “Move to the Outer Rim and settle down with a jakit herder?” Hyde’s face managed to display several strong emotions in response to that without ever shifting. He seemed to go through all five stages of grief, starting with denial and ending with accep
tance, in roughly as many seconds and rubbed at his temples as though he had a headache.
“Look, my plan to remain unmurdered was somewhat dependent on publishing my article. I’m winging it at the moment.”
“Come with me,” Hyde ground out like it pained him to say.
“What?” Thalia asked warily.
“Come back to the Breakwater with me. The others would never forgive me if they found out I left you alone and defenseless, and there’s no way they wouldn’t find out.”
“So, in order to protect me—grudgingly—from a few mercenaries sent by a super sketchy criminal dickwad, you’re taking me to a ship filled with mercenaries and sketchy criminals?” Hyde nodded. “Fuck it, I’m in. Point the way.”
“Follow me,” Hyde said, stalking back out into the hallway. Thalia had to jog to keep up with him. The trip to the elevator was uneventful, as was reaching the lobby. It was only when they reached the street that things went to hell. Chasing down the sort of people that frequented the dangerous parts of town meant that Thalia, too, had to frequent those parts, which how when a bullet slammed into the wall next to her head she knew no self-respecting law enforcement officer would be showing up to lend a hand.
Hyde swore and pushed her into the nearest alley, which was good because Thalia’s brain had chosen to shut down. People stalking her across a system and a half wasn’t the best experience ever but suddenly the realization that she could die crashed over her. It took all her years of experience with repressing emotion to keep herself from freaking out.
“Are you armed?” Hyde asked, looking through the scattering crowd for their attacker.
“I have half a candy bar and a can-do attitude,” Thalia responded automatically. She was wearing decent shoes. Could she get away if she ran? And how much of an asshole move would it be to leave someone who had offered her protection—albeit somewhat reluctantly—to get possibly murdered while she made a break for it?
“Fantastic, let me know how bringing optimism to a gun fight works out for you,” Hyde shot back as several men emerged from the crowd, striding with undisguised purpose. Thalia was no great mathematician, but there were definitely more than two of them.
“I mean, optimism, a candy bar, and a badass space pirate,” Thalia said, pasting the best shit eating grin on her face as Hyde spared a moment to throw a thoroughly annoyed look over his shoulder. “Look at it like this: you can’t kill me, which I have no doubt you’d love to do at the moment, if they,” she nodded at the steadily advancing figures, “do it first. So, you know, grin and bear it.”
“I’m throwing you into a fucking turbine the second I think Annie won’t have me drawn and quartered for it,” Hyde said backing slightly more into the alley.
“Aw. Chivalry isn’t dead, it just smells funny and hasn’t moved in a while. What’s the plan?”
“I can’t beat all of them like this, and I’m assuming you’re not going to be much of a help. I’m going to have to shift, which means we need to get to the Breakwater immediately afterwards. I need you to take my comm unit and call Richard Chapel,” Hyde told her, stripping his jacket off in one fluid motion and throwing it to the side. As it turned out, despite going a few rounds with his truly sharp tongue and being in imminent danger Thalia was still capable of finding him ridiculously attractive.
“I can do that,” Thalia said. Hyde handed her his communicator.
“See the dumpster over there? Get behind it. Tell Rick what’s going on, and if it sounds like I’m dying feel badly about your life choices and run away.”
“I’ll just practice my lamentations, shall I?” she said, making her way to where he told her to go. “And… try not to die.”
Hyde snorted. “Sage advice. Now, hide.”
Thalia hid.
She heard the slightly nauseating sounds of muscle expanding and reforming and the creaks and snaps of bones rearranging. The urge to look was strong, but Thalia had priorities and tapped once on the comm, the holoscreen flickering to life. If she lived, she’d maybe get to see him shift again another day, and the best way to get out alive was to do what he said.
She opened the video call function of the comm and scrolled until she found “Chapel.” Her finger was just about to press the connect button when she heard a shout, followed by a growl, followed by the loud pop of a blaster going off too close for comfort. Flinching, she forced herself to make the call.
The sounds of the fight continued, echoing off the alley walls, and Thalia was somewhat embarrassed to realize her breaths were coming shorter and shorter.
None of that, she told herself. What sort of self-respecting investigative journalist can’t handle a little danger?
Nevertheless, it was a relief when the call connected and a man with touseled brown hair and, of course, gold eyes peered out at her from the screen.
“See, you’re calling me from Hyde’s comm link, but you don’t appear to be Hyde,” Rick Chapel said, “so I imagine you can understand my confusion.”
“I’m almost always confused, so I understand perfectly,” Thalia assured him. The distinct sound of bones breaking, accompanied by a squelching noise, cut through the air and Thalia flinched again. “Okay, so, um, it’s like this: I sort of stalked Hyde to a bar—not for weird reasons, I just need to interview him for an article—and, wouldn’t you know it, apparently the people I’m writing the article about don’t want it to get published, which, fair enough, they’d probably go to jail. So it turned out they had people following me and they apparently decided to act when they saw me talking to Hyde and so now he’s a bear and I’m sitting behind a dumpster next to what I really hope is an unused condom and hoping they die before he does. And he told me to call you to tell you this was happening and that we’re going to be making a run for the ship, pending our survival. So. Um. Just letting you know?”
Rick took in the rant with a slow blink. “Are you telling me that you’re in trouble and Hyde is helping you? And that he’s bringing you to the Breakwater as part of that?”
“Yes?” Thalia said.
Rick sighed. “Karma is a beautiful thing. I’ll get everyone ready. Good stars.”
The image winked out. Not knowing what else to do, Thalia peeked around the dumpster and immediately wished she hadn’t. She had known, intellectually, that getting in a fight with a bear wasn’t the sort of endeavor that left a pretty corpse behind but the sight still shocked her. On the bright side, it looked like Hyde was almost done.
Thalia leaned back against the alley wall, forcing herself not to think about what was on it, and breathed deeply. She couldn’t go falling apart now. Actually, she should be happy. Not only had she found her man, she was going to be sailing off with him. Surely at some point she would get a few answers, and that was all she needed. Journalism, it sometimes seemed, was the art of making mountains out of molehills. So, really, everything was going even better than planned. It wasn’t like she’d rather have the mercenaries very much alive and succeeding in their goal. This was the best outcome for the situation.
She took a deep breath in and then slowly let it out, letting the tension leak from her shoulders only to tense right back up when something very large and suddenly very close to her huffed. The warm air hit her face and she winced at the smell before she could help herself. Slowly, she opened her eyes.
Ian (BBW Bear Shifter Wedding Romance) (Grizzly Groomsmen Book 4) Page 5
