Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

ARI

Ari recognized the female at once.

Human. In the possession of a Nakkoni female.

She was dressed as a pet, complete with a collar, and wearing a fitted black dress, the fabric covered in sequins that caught and shimmered in the light. Sleeveless, her exposed arms highlighted her beige complexion and soft human skin. A bracelet of white pearls adorned one wrist. Her yellow hair gave the appearance of a summer blossom. No scales. No skin that could shift to stone. No wings or claws or anything that could be used defensively.

Except her intellect.

Yes, he saw how she studied the room. Her appearance was delicate, arguably decorative, but that was a ruse. She subtly touched the Nakkoni female, utilizing a code or a signal they devised. She threw the dice a few rounds, watching the Nakkoni lose more than she won. Always modest amounts. Never enough to draw suspicion.

Was this Miriam’s friend Darla? Miriam’s description had been vague: a human female kept as a pet, in the company of a male called Logus. This was a female called Poppy, but that meant little. Humans were purchased and sold frequently.

Tavat was making a nuisance of himself. He had plenty of credits and used them as a bludgeon. He kept battering at the other female, trying to wear her down and agree to sell.

Such behavior was insufferable. Ari immediately decided that he would never sell to Tavat, not for any amount of credits. He was glad he had only come to the club in a social capacity to observe the male. They had not discussed business.

Finally, Tavat pushed the other female too far. Poppy rushed forward, grabbing Tavat by the throat.

“Apologize to Carla,” she demanded.

Carla? Yes, now that he heard it spoken, he felt certain that her identity had been confirmed. A fortunate wind finally blew in his direction.

Unfortunately, that irritating male Tavat was too interested in the female. He was not the type of person who accepted being told no. After Poppy forced an apology from Tavat and the game resumed, the male seethed.

“My friend, no female is worth this trouble,” Ari said, keeping his voice low to be discreet.

Apparently, Tavat had never encountered the concept and spoke loudly. “What do I care for a female human? I could buy and sell anyone I please. That female must be put in her place, so I will take what she values.”

This could not end well. A reasonable person would take their leave and avoid the oncoming trouble, even if it meant losing a potential sale. That would be the prudent course of action.

Ari was not reasonable or prudent. He sensed an opportunity.

As the game continued, Poppy lost a greater and greater sum, and Tavat’s stack of credits grew. The human female’s expression grew more and more concerned. Was this part of their scheme? Poppy loses badly, gambles away all her credits and possibly the female? To what end? Perhaps to have the female alone with the winner to incapacitate them.

How? A human was defenseless. Ari imagined several scenarios in his mind, each more ludicrous than the one before. Drugging the target was the only option that made sense. The female’s form -fitting outfit excluded pockets and hidden pills or syringes. Maybe she stored a sedative in her mouth, like a burrowing animal preparing for the winter’s frost.

He huffed with amusement. The female tilted her head, as if curious. Her expression remained blank, even as Ari’s grin widened. She was a calculating one.

What would it take to get a genuine reaction out of her? Ari wanted to discover the answer.

Tavat noticed nothing. He only saw a covetous female, something to be collected. He failed to notice the subtle communication between her and Poppy. He failed to notice how Poppy brushed her hands against the fabric of her jacket, leaving a slight trace of dust, or how Carla would lean against her, using her body to shield her hand as she removed the evidence of cheating.

All in all, a very amusing show. Well worth suffering through Tavat’s company.

Eventually, Poppy held up her hands in surrender. “I must cease. I have nothing left unless you desire my shoes.”

A greedy expression settled on Tavat’s face. “For your human.”

Poppy pulled back, as if offended.

“Double or nothing,” Tavat offered.

Carla gently tugged on Poppy’s sleeve. “It’s too risky.”

“We will have nowhere to sleep tonight if I don’t.”

“I don’t care. I’ve slept on a park bench before.”

Ari’s wings fluttered at the delicate quiver in her voice. She was an artist.

The Nakkoni drew back her shoulders, as if reaching a decision. “This streak of bad luck cannot hold. Give me the dice.”

Tavat’s tail lashed from side to side, hitting those standing closest to him. “An excellent decision.”

Poppy grabbed the dice and held them out to the female. “For luck,” she said.

She obediently leaned in and repeated the motion of pressing her finger tips to her lips and blowing a kiss. It was an excellent distraction. Ari nearly missed it.

Poppy tossed the dice. As they tumbled down the table, the female shrank back in on herself. She folded her arms defensively over her chest while Poppy chanced her freedom. It was a fine act. If one ignored her eyes and how they watched the crowd, it was a flawless performance.

The crowd cheered at the high score.

Tavat grabbed Poppy’s wrist, holding it tight as he jerked the female’s hand into the air. “Cheat! There’s dust on your palm.”

The mirth and revelry in the crowd vanished.

“It is nothing,” Poppy said, which had to be the worst possible response.

“This is not nothing.” Tavat’s tail lashed violently from side to side.

The club’s steward appeared, a serious -faced Nakkoni male with a pale coppery complexion. “We will handle the matter.”

“No,” Tavat said, pulling out a blaster from the inner pocket of his suit jacket. “I will deal with the cheater myself. But first, the female human is forfeit.”

This was escalating quickly. Normally, Ari welcomed chaos, but he needed to pull it back to a manageable level of chaos.

Carla removed her mask. Her entire posture changed, shedding the timid human act and grabbing a drinks tray from a passing server. She spun in place and flung the tray—drinks and all—at Tavat. A fair portion hit Ari, but he didn’t mind.

Before the male or his security could react, she grabbed Poppy and ran. Tavat shot at them, aiming badly. A nearby gaming table took damage. A scream of alarm tore through the crowd.

“Don’t stand there! Get her!” Tavat snapped, pointing to the fleeing couple. The gesture would have been far more dramatic if it had not splattered those nearby with liquor. His guards sprang into action.

Ari laughed, utterly delighted.

A chase. He loved chases.

CARLA

Carla ran, following Poppy, who used her large size to push through the crowd. She gasped for air, her calves burned, and her sides were doing that thing that told her she should have been serious about taking up jogging instead of just buying a pair of sneakers and calling that good enough. She wasn’t a runner, okay? And now she was being chased by proverbial regrets and a very literal pissed -off lizard man.

She glanced over her shoulder.

And a gargoyle, for some reason.

Poppy burst through a door into a service corridor, knocking into a cart. Plates and food went flying. “Pardon me,” she said, managing to have manners while charging through. Not wanting to be shot full of holes was no reason to be rude.

Carla didn’t want to look like Swiss cheese either but struggled to keep pace.

The corridor took them down a flight of stairs to the same level as the storeroom. The air had a musty, earthy scent.

“There’s an exit,” Poppy said, not out of breath in the slightest, and pointed to another set of fucking stairs.

Carla gave up, bending at the waist and resting her hands on her knees as she gasped. If she was captured by creepy Tavat, so be it. She’d figure it out, but there was no way she could keep running.

“Carla—”

Footsteps rattled down the stairs. Had to be their trigger-happy friend or that gargoyle.

“Go.” Gasp. “I’ll hide.”

Poppy grabbed her and picked her up like a football, tucking her under one arm as she ran toward the exit. She bounced the entire way. It was humiliating.

She rushed up the stairs, each step making a huge racket. Energy blasts hit the wall, dark spots growing and eating away at the plaster like little angry voids.

Not good, not good. Was she panicking? Yes, absolutely. She enjoyed being non-perforated with all the inside bits, you know, inside.

Finally, Poppy reached the top. The door squealed in protest as she pushed it open. The rank smell of humid air mixed with garbage made her wrinkle her nose. It was gross outside, but staying inside wasn’t an option.

The stairwell building dumped them into a twisted warren of poorly illuminated alleyways. There was no clear way to the main thoroughfare. She continued to run, not slowing down to a brisk walk until they were a good distance away.

“What were you thinking?” she demanded, still clutching her like a football. “You have provoked the wrong male.”

Yeah, yeah. Throwing a drink on Tavat wasn’t the brightest move she ever made, but they needed to make a quick exit.

“Me? You were supposed to lose,” she retorted. “What were you thinking?”

“I would not leave you alone with that male. He is dangerous.”

The nerve of her, sounding virtuous when she changed the plan. She lost the bet. She always lost the bet, and Carla was the collateral. That was the plan. When she got the mark alone, she drugged them. It was simple. Easy. Foolproof.

Except Poppy went off script.

“That’s how we work,” she snapped. “You don’t change plans in the middle of a job.”

“Incorrect. Plans must be altered when confronted with new information. Tavat was a bad target.” Then, in a quieter tone, “He would hurt you.”

Oh no, that sounded like an emotion.

She never asked Poppy about her life before Reazus Prime. She had absolutely no problem stealing or throwing a punch, especially against those she believed had it coming. The fastest way for Poppy to decide you deserve it was to hurt someone smaller and weaker, and not in a big-sister-protects-you way but in a rage-inducing, berserker dragon way. She lost her damn lizard mind and went full Godzilla. Popzilla, if you will. It had gotten them into more than one scrape.

There was a story there, a reason why she flew into a rage, but Carla never asked. To be fair, Poppy never asked about what Carla left behind either. Some things were too painful to talk about.

“Don’t get all sentimental on me.” Carla squirmed. “Set me down. We’re far enough away to walk.”

Poppy’s hold tightened as if she disagreed. She continued to carry her; each step felt like she was being shaken. By the time Carla was well and truly dizzy, she finally relaxed and set her down.

“How far are we from the hostel?” Carla braced a hand against a wall, waiting for her head to stop spinning.

Poppy held up a hand, signaling her to be silent.

She listened. The noise of the city seemed distant, even as they were in the heart of the Hub. Was that footsteps?

“This way,” Poppy said, heading to the right.

Carla wasn’t going to argue. Poppy had better hearing and eyesight than her, so maybe she heard something promising.

Or maybe they were going in circles.

In this part of the city, it was hard to tell. The Hub, the largest city on the planet, was a chaotic mess. Originally built when Reazus Prime was a prison planet, the Hub was a transportation and administrative center. The older sections were orderly, populated with grand buildings and wide streets. Honestly, the old city reminded her of photos of Paris, that elegant city with wide streets built for the ease of movement of troops and the difficulty for the rabble to erect barricades.

Nothing said oppression like elegant buildings and picturesque boulevards.

What came after the prison shut down and the administrators abandoned the planet, the city exploded with chaotic growth. New buildings were repurposed shipping containers, junked spaceships, and basically anything people could get their hands on. Quite environmentally friendly, if you were looking for a silver lining. Too bad safety regulations and building codes didn’t exist. Streets were narrow and twisted. Utilities were spotty and questionable. It took a brave person to drink the water from the tap, and Carla wasn’t that brave. Police? Nah. The swankier neighborhoods hired watchmen. A person might hire private security if they were concerned, but most people looked after themselves.

The Hub was a chaotic, colorful, and loud mess, and Carla adored it. And the people…

The city was packed with a variety of aliens from all over this corner of the galaxy. There were the lizard guys, obviously, and some with stony gray skin, not to be confused with the gargoyles. Those were totally different aliens with stony gray skin and wings. People came in so many colors, not just the human brown-beige-pink, but purples, blues, greens, gray, and red. Wings. Tails of all varieties. Horns? Take your pick. You had horns like a ram, an antelope, or a nice classic demon. Fur. Scales. Eyes? You could have two or four. Same with arms. The one constant was people tended to be bipedal and had the same general shape with limbs and a torso.

Carla loved it. The whole package. Sure, being abducted sucked and there was some trauma to work out, but she didn’t miss Earth. She sure as hell didn’t miss her abusive family, her boring job in medical billing, or the daily struggle to keep body and soul together. Life on the former prison planet wasn’t a picnic, but it agreed with her.

The city was so different from the small Midwestern town where she grew up. That place had been suffocating, the kind of town where it was impossible to keep secrets, and everyone knew your business.

And turned a blind eye while her father drank himself to death and dragged his family along with him.

No? Too bitter?

Carla shook out her hands, letting the unpleasant memories fall away with her nervous energy. Dwelling on the past didn’t help. She needed to focus on the here and now.

She and Poppy wound their way through the dark alleys, pausing to hide in shadows when they heard footsteps. She flinched when she splashed into what she hoped was a puddle of rainwater, the fluid soaking her toes. Her poor shoes. They were soft leather, meant to be stealthy and quiet, and not for traipsing about in the dark and stomping through questionable puddles. She hoped they could be cleaned. Human feet were smaller than average and her shoes had to be specially made.

The rumble of trains and the noise of passing traffic lessened, and the odor of seawater grew stronger. They must be near the docks. The narrow alley opened onto a larger plaza filled with light and noise. Bar and tavern patrons spilled onto the street. Across the plaza was their hostel.

Finally, they were home. Well, home-ish. Since arriving on the planet, they had rented rooms as a place to live. They stayed in some truly terrible places, like the place that had such a thick layer of mold and fungus on the walls that it had to be structural support. Or the place converted from old, rusted shipping containers. Their current hostel was a luxury. It had electricity, plumbing, and no one asked questions. Perfection.

Carla felt herself relax as they walked onto the plaza, the stress just melting from her muscles. Running for your life had that effect. “How much money did we lose tonight?”

Poppy’s quills went back. “It could not be avoided. Some nights, we take a loss.”

“Yeah, not about that. I want a hot shower. Do we have enough credits?” Cold showers were free. Hot water costs extra. She needed a shower badly—mud and sweat made that non-negotiable—but she’d really like a hot shower.

“If you are quick.”

“Taking your time is the point of a hot shower,” she grumbled, but fair enough. They didn’t have money to waste, and Tavat was pretty pissed. It was one thing to try to get the better of someone. People expected it here. Frankly, if you didn’t try to cheat them, they were insulted. But Carla embarrassed Tavat by throwing that drink, which was unforgivable, and now they had to keep their heads down for a few days. No work, no money. No long hot showers.

Carla mentally calculated how to squeeze the most out of five minutes of hot water. She could scrub her feet in a basin of cold water, no problem. Getting the rest of her soapy meant more time standing under the hot water like a zombie, and she wanted zombie shower time.

She made it halfway across the plaza when a sharp sting on her shoulder made her slap her hand over the spot, like swatting a bug.

Then her legs went out from underneath her. They were numb, just gone. There was a moment that felt like a thousand years but was likely two heartbeats of confusion before her falling body slammed into the pavement. She caught herself, palms scraping against the dirty stone pavers.

Panic filled her. Why couldn’t she feel her legs? A tranquilizer, if she had to guess, and a fast -acting one because her head already felt muddy.

She shouted a warning, her voice slurring. Poppy turned to face her and staggered back a step.

Scales for the win.

Carla would have cheered if she could make any noise other than gurgling. Shooting her with a puny little tranq dart wouldn’t penetrate her scales; it’d only made her angry.

Poppy roared in fury—that was her dragon bestie—and rushed toward someone Carla couldn’t see. She tried to push herself up to stand but quickly gave up. Her legs wouldn’t cooperate. Rolling over to her side was hard enough, let alone pushing herself into a sitting position.

It was quite the scene. Poppy wrestled one of Tavat’s henchmen. A crowd had gathered to watch. Absolutely no one bothered to help. Typical.

“Fuckoffyafuckers!” she shouted, her words a jumbled mess.

The crowd mostly ignored her. So far. If Poppy went down, she was alone and immobilized. Easy pickings.

Hiding seemed smart. Carla flopped onto her stomach, dragging herself forward with her arms, determined to crawl away. She was afraid. Nothing wrong with fear. Fear kept you alive. Fight or flight was an instinct for a reason. Poppy was all fight, and Carla very much was flight.

A pair of strong hands lifted her from the ground. She knew at once it wasn’t Poppy. The hold was all wrong, slinging her around like a naughty kitten instead of cradling her like a football.

She caught a glimpse of an unconscious Poppy sprawled on the ground, a white cloth mask fastened over her nose and mouth. This was bad. The kind of bad that you don’t survive.

“Hello, human,” a Nakkoni man said. Carla recognized him as one of Tavat’s goons.

Carla tried to spit in his face but only drooled on herself.

“None of that,” he said, covering her mouth and nose with a square cloth.

An acrid aroma made her eyes water. She wanted to tear the cloth off her face, but her arms were just dead weight she that couldn’t lift, and her eyes grew heavier…