Chapter 6

Chapter Six

Dane and I squared off, at an impasse. He held a pair of manacles and I stood with my hands balled on my hips, glaring at him.

“Parker,” he unexpectedly said my name.

“Dane,” I replied, and the corner of his eye twitched again.

“You are not coming to Monsa,” he repeated, infuriating me.

“Why not?” We’d been going in circles for a few minutes already. Frankly, that he hadn’t simply manhandled me into the restraints surprised me. Dane’s contact in the port city of Monsa gave him the name of a major competitor for Peregrine Curiosities. My brief excitement fizzled by the fact that I was not allowed to accompany him. I’d thought it was because he was worried I could be in danger. Nope.

“I do not know if I can trust you,” he said for the fourth or fifth time. “We cannot travel with you in chains. You must stay here until I return.” He shook the chains at me for emphasis.

I shook my head back at him. “Think through this logically.” The sour taste of bile burned my throat at the thought of being restrained alone in the house. I wracked my brain for a reason I hadn’t tried. An option hit me. “You need me to identify the competitor.”

“I know his name. Why would I need you to identify him? Besides, you stated you did not know any of Bowyer Haled’s business dealings.” His eyes narrowed. “Are you revising that statement?”

I flushed, remembering his merciless promise to deliver me to Vadhea to an uncertain fate if I lied. Such an untrusting alien Enforcer. “No, I am not. But Bowyer entertained a lot. Possibly this competition came by the house before.”

“Go on,” Dane said.

“Maybe you know the old Earth saying, ‘Keep your friends close and your enemies closer.’”

Dane remained silent and I rushed to explain.

“Bowyer might have invited the competition over in order to keep tabs on them. If so, there’s a chance that I’ll know him and can confirm he’s familiar with Bowyer’s home.”

Dane lowered the chains. He stared at me. I hoped he was considering this final argument. “That is reasonable. You may come.”

“Gee, thanks, master,” I retorted, though in honesty, I recognized he held the power. It was his home planet. I was still a long-term tourist.

His eyes ran the length of me.

“See anything you like?” I teased.

“Our clothing is fine for Monsa. You will need to replenish.”

Ouch. I lifted an arm to smell my pit. Yep, it smelled like I hadn’t bathed while I’d been on the run for three, almost four, days. He wanted me to shower.

He stepped back to allow me room to pass to the replenishment room, otherwise known as a high-tech bathroom. At least I wouldn’t have to pee in a side alley again.

“Are you going to watch?” I sidled past him, his body rigid when I bumped him.

His eyes widened at the contact.

I didn’t have time to consider his reaction.

“Be quick,” he ordered.

I snapped off a jaunty salute, which he ignored. His watchful eyes remained on me as I stood in the replenishment room’s doorway and stripped off my clothing.

Like before, using the heels of each foot, I slipped off my black shoes and nudged them to the side. I gripped the fastener for my black leather vest and released it. Shrugging the vest off my shoulders, I then grabbed the bottom of my black blouse and pulled it up and over my head. When I undid the bandeau supporting my chest, I didn’t miss how his eyes hungrily took in the scene before him. The tent fabric at his crotch ignited an ache of desire. I tore off my leggings faster, feeling discomfited by the entire scene and wanting to be clean. I noted the damp spot on my black panties when I shimmied them down my body.

Dane’s nose moved.

“Did you just sniff the air?” I asked. No way I smelled that bad. Sheesh.

His eyes had dilated and now he emitted a slight whine, surprising us both. “Finish,” he said gruffly, not answering my question.

The ache in my pussy growing, I spun on my heels to enter further into the replenishment room. For the distraction, if nothing else.

To my right was a small evacuation box, what we on Earth called a toilet. Straight ahead was a mirror and counter. To my left was the bathing apparatus, an enclosure similar to glass-walled showers on Earth, except with an entire wall of the Foulan-equivalent of hot tub rotary jets that streamed cleansing particles over your entire body.

The distraction not successful. I wanted to squeeze my legs together for release from the growing pressure.

Instead, when I entered the bathing apparatus, I spun the dial on the wall to the iciest setting. The quick blast of a cold shower quelled my immediate need for sexual release. My hand grabbed the dial to spin it to a warmer setting, and I paused to consider my situation. I hadn’t showered in the three days I’d been on the run and I didn’t know when I’d get my next opportunity. With a flick of my wrist, I spun the dial to a high heat level. Time to enjoy a leisurely pace for my shower.

I sensed Dane’s eyes on me as I stayed facing the wall of the enclosure while the particles bounced around me. It wasn’t water, exactly, but a version of it that had natural cleansing ions, left less mess, and evaporated in seconds off the skin. Even my long, blonde hair became saturated and then quickly dried. Despite this difference, I reveled in the silkiness of the ions against my naked body. The ions created a buffer between the skin of my hands and the rest of my body as they glided over first my arms and legs, then ended at my chest. I cupped my breasts, using my thumbs to rub across my pebbling nipples.

Movement in my peripheral vision drew my attention. Although Dane maintained a facial mask of indifference, his left hand shifted from his hip to his waist to his thigh, like something discomfited him. Our eyes met and he stilled. I allowed my head to drop back, releasing my tits and lifting my chest toward the ion streams. Dane broke eye contact first, surprising me by leaning down to grab something from the floor.

Dane held my black blouse to his face. He appeared to be sniffing it. Bewilderment filled me. While I watched, he vanished from the open doorway. I knew he wasn’t leaving, but I was at a loss as to what he was doing.

I wrapped up my shower so that I could take advantage of his absence to use the toilet. I had just pressed the recycle button when I sensed Dane back in the doorway. He stared like he wanted to eat me. Oof, poor choice of words, now that I knew there were some Foulans who enjoyed a little human sampling.

He held out a gray shirt in his hand. “Dress quickly,” Dane said, his deep voice even lower. “If we leave now, we will arrive before nightfall.”

I snatched the shirt from him, feeling like a complete idiot. That’s why he was sniffing my blouse. To see if that was an additional source of my stink. Embarrassment flooded me. I reversed my earlier movements to redress, substituting his gray shirt for my stinky and now-absent black one. It was large on me, of course. With my vest over it, it had an almost Renaissance Faire flair. The last touch was to grab my black wig, tuck my hair under it, and smooth down some flyaway strands. Done.

Meanwhile, Dane activated his communication device and requested an autonomous conveyance, or autocon. Once ordered, he set about repacking his blue satchel with what little he’d taken out: the communication device, some auto-note pads, and a keycard.

I perked up. It had to be an extra keycard. I’d seen him remove and replace another keycard in his back pocket. If this keycard was a true duplicate of the one in Dane’s back pocket, he’d shelled out quite a lot for them. Universal keycards were hella expensive and were a pickpocket’s dream. The keycards could identify and unlock almost any electronic seal.

Dane strode to the front door. He opened it and gestured that I should leave first.

“Chivalry isn’t dead,” I quipped, though knew it wasn’t chivalrous behavior. He wanted me to stay in front of him. I stepped down the stairs to find the autocon already waiting for us at the bottom.

Bigger than what I’d seen in sci-fi movies, the autocon otherwise mimicked the silvery bubble hovercrafts of Earth’s entertainment in the 1980s, including a translucent window that allowed the occupants to watch the outside world while traveling.

Dane waved a keycard on the bubble vehicle’s side and a door rose to allow us entry.

I hadn’t been in an autocon since I’d arrived on Foula and one brought me and Bowyer to our shared residence. He’d used them on his rare jaunts out, but mostly people came to him for entertainment.

Dane sat opposite me and the door swooshed closed behind him. The autocon was large enough to accommodate six of the average Foulan. It felt big to me, despite my larger-for-a-human-female size.

And, yet, in the enclosed space, I felt very near to my captor. Wait, was he still my captor? Who was I kidding? Until we found the truth, I remained at risk of the Enforcer bringing me to Vadhea. So, yeah, he was still my captor.

His musky scent permeated the vehicle. That was unusual; he most likely had cleaned up only a day or so ago; he wouldn’t be stinky like I had been. Although this scent wasn’t noxious; it was, in fact, rather pleasant?—

I fought not to show a visible reaction to my potential epiphany.

Was it the musk for attracting a mate?