Chapter 7

CHAPTER 7

ARI

Ari needed to be patient.

Nothing good happened when he acted impulsively.

It only took a moment to let his anger and resentment at his father change his position in life from Khargal aristocrat to fugitive, though he could not admit any regrets. He accepted Miriam’s poisoned bargain on an impulse, which left him with a debt of honor he struggled to pay. He impulsively bought Carla’s freedom on the street, and now they were in the midst of this farce.

With a look of smug contentment on his face, he strolled through the lobby of the Ocean’s Seven Club. This was the plan. Parade his new human like a nestling with a new toy and be seen.

Ari glanced down at the human female. She clung to his arm, her golden hair gleaming under the lights.

Again, he had no regrets.

Carla tightened her grip, subtly steering him toward the bar.

“Are you thirsty, my pet?” he asked.

She shook her head from side to side.

“Use your words,” he said.

She scowled up at him. “No, I’m not thirsty,” she said, carefully enunciating each word to the point they felt like daggers.

Adorable.

“I will feed you,” he said, patting the top of her head. He had only known her for two days, but he already noticed that her mood dramatically improved when she had a full stomach.

“I’m not hungry.” She batted away his hand.

He chuckled, but he knew the root of her dissatisfaction. He felt it, too. “You are also impatient, but this is a thing that must be done carefully.”

Carla made a grumbly noise that he interpreted as, “Why yes, you are correct as always, Ari.”

They had stayed overnight at the human -friendly settlement, waiting for the last delivery of their purchases. They traveled the next day, arriving at the Ocean’s Seven Club by evening. Not once had she thanked him.

That was acceptable. He did not want her gratitude. What he wanted was utterly more difficult to formulate.

She broke into his cabin in the middle of the night, held a blade to his throat, and threatened to murder him in any number of creative ways. He should have been appalled. The reasonable thing would have been to hire security to protect himself from the unpredictable female. He found himself unwilling to do so.

She was exceptional. Admirable.

Delectable.

“What are you smiling for?” Carla asked, sounding like she was definitely hungry. “I don’t know why we just don’t hire guys with guns to blow shit up for us. Smash and grab. In and out. Bada bing, bada boom.”

His translation chip must have been malfunctioning, turning her last words into gibberish. He said, “A gun is not the correct tool for this situation.”

“Isn’t it? I really feel like lots of massive guns would help.”

“You will feel differently after a meal. This club has an excellent restaurant.”

“I guess I could eat.”

The restaurant seated them immediately at a table in the center of the busy floor. Ari demanded a more secluded table and would not relent until the server relented.

“You didn’t have to be an ass about it,” Carla muttered.

“It would be suspicious if I weren’t.”

She snorted, then pressed her lips together and scowled, as if remembering that she should not find him amusing and charming. Folding her arms over her chest, she struck a defiant pose.

Ari understood her struggle. He was extraordinarily charming.

“I still don’t understand why. I think Plan Guns-a-blazing would work,” she said.

“One would think so. I’ve employed it successfully before,” he agreed.

“Then why can’t we?—”

A server appeared, delivering drinks and a basket of bread.

“What do you crave, my pet?” Ari asked, holding a menu.

His blood spilled on the ground, judging from the look she tossed him.

“Whatever you like,” she said in a voice so falsely sweet that he had difficulty not laughing.

He ordered more food than they could reasonably consume. At least one of the dishes should appeal to Carla.

When the server departed, Ari said, “We could hire every mercenary on this planet. It would not matter because the security for Tavat’s compound would blast any ship without a clearance code out of the sky. We need an invitation. We must be patient.”

She chewed on a slice of buttered bread. “There has to be another way in.”

“The compound is located on an island. Arrival by air or sea does not matter. A stealth approach is impossible.”

“Yeah, but guys like that need their fancy booze, food, and I dunno, peasants to hunt. I bet the island gets regular deliveries. Get the code from one of them.” She spoke in a soft voice, keeping their conversation private.

“It changes daily. We would need to locate a merchant and bribe them for the code. None will risk Tavat’s wrath.”

She finished the bread. He could see her mind working. “I suppose hiding in a delivery ship is out of the question.”

“Again, we would need to locate a merchant willing to take such a risk.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” she muttered. “I don’t like waiting. Why can’t you just send him a message saying that you have a human to sell?”

Ari’s tail thumped in agitation against the leg of his chair. “You do not understand our target.”

“I understand he’s a dick with a supervillain secret lair on an island that’s shaped like a skull or on a volcano. Probably both. Also, the volcano skull is filled with zombies, including Poppy, if we don’t do something,” she said.

“Tavat is the kind of male who is only interested in what he cannot possess. Approaching him as a seller of flesh will not work.”

She slumped back in her chair. “A contrary supervillain. Fantastic.”

“We make a spectacle of ourselves. The biggest gossips on Reazus Prime frequent this club. Word will reach Tavat about the human female with golden hair. He will wonder if she is the one who slipped through his fingers, and he will want to possess her at all costs,” Ari explained. He took a drink of water. “We will be patient. The hunter waits for the perfect moment before swooping down from its perch.”

The server arrived with their meal. As predicted, it was too much. Aromatic and steaming dishes covered the table. Ari had not exaggerated when he said the restaurant was excellent.

His first bite confirmed it. “The kitchen has a Khargal chef who is as talented as any in the capital of my homeworld,” he said.

Carla jabbed a fork at her plate, sullen and sulky, but did not eat. “I don’t like it, but I hear what you’re saying.”

“We must wait. Now, try to enjoy your meal.”

“It just feels wrong. How can I enjoy a fancy dinner and all this while Poppy…” Her voice wobbled. She reached for her glass, drinking to cover the emotion in her voice. “I need to do something.”

“Rushing in will only make it worse for your friend.”

“My sister,” she corrected.

“Apologies. Your sister,” he agreed. “We have a plan. We must see it through.”

She muttered an unconvincing agreement, then asked, “If Tavat’s such a creep, what were you doing with him?”

“Wasting my time,” he said.

She made an interested noise as she took a bite of food, chewing thoroughly before speaking. “So, you weren’t scoping him out to rob him?”

“I thought he could purchase a few items from my collection, but he failed the vetting process.” Tavat had the credits but lacked discretion.

“Why?”

“Why?” Ari repeated. “You are always demanding explanations. If he saw the extent of my collection, he’d snap off my wings and slit my throat.”

“I can see how that’d be bad for business. It’s a shame,” she said. “Being an art thief is much sexier than being an antique dealer.”

“I am flattered at your concern, but rest assured, my sexual appeal is robust.”

Her lips tugged, as if she wanted to smile. He’d accept that as a victory.

It would be no hardship to spend the next few days in her company, even though he did not believe she would honor the plan. He would have to keep an eye on her.

Patience .

It was something they both needed to cultivate.

CARLA

Day three.

She had to be patient. It was a struggle. Logically, she agreed with the steps of the plan and knew they couldn’t be rushed. Emotionally, though, she was a mess. Every minute she spent parading around on Ari’s arm pretending to be his pet was a minute that Poppy slipped closer to zombiehood. How dare she stroll through the luxurious casino lounge dressed in a new silk gown, acting as if she didn’t have a care in the world?

“Smile,” Ari said, taking her glass of wine.

“Oh, fuck off.”

“It is not difficult.” He gestured to his own face, a maniacal grin spreading slowly, displaying very sharp fangs.

“Give me back my drink.”

“Only well-behaved pets get wine. Because I am not cruel, you may have water if you are thirsty.”

Ari made it very easy to pretend to be a disgruntled human, chafing under the yoke of a new owner. Carla barely had to act at all.

She breathed deep, made her eyes go wide, and gave an intense, if unhinged, smile.

Ari chuckled, poking her cheek with a finger. “Human faces are so expressive. How is your skin so pliable? It’s like plastic.”

She snapped her teeth, which earned her a fond rub on the head like she was a puppy. Yeah, zero acting on her part.

That evening, they arrived at an oil rig that had been converted into a casino. It was… something. Constructed in the middle of the ocean, there was nothing but open water as far as the eye could see. Logistics had to be a nightmare to keep it supplied. Smaller ships huddled around it, the docks stretching out haphazardly. Aesthetically, it was all harsh industrial on the outside and shiny, reflective surfaces on the inside, with an overabundance of black marble, brass, and mirrors. It was like the largest, most indulgent 1980s bathroom ever.

Carla could only assume the place required a fortune to convert into something comfortable and another fortune to keep it well-stocked with the food, booze, and service the guests expected. She could only assume that the point of the place was to spend massive amounts of money.

“What’s this place called, anyway?” she asked. Currently, they strolled through the lounge, a large space filled with comfy chairs no one used, leafy green palms strategically placed to give the illusion of privacy, and a full-service bar.

“Ocean’s Seven.”

She snorted. “No way.”

“It is a name designed for luck, pairing the bountiful with a lucky number. I do not know why you find that improbable.” He looked genuinely confused, which was something considering his inhuman features. Not that he was so different. Two eyes, a nose, and a mouth, all arranged with generally the same layout.

The stony complexion, gray with a purple sheen, was different, as were the five horns on the top of his head hammered home their differences. Oh, and the wings, the tail, and the ability to shift his skin to stone. So yeah, just a smidge different.

Still, the more time they spent together, the less Ari looked alien. He started looking more like himself, and she sort of liked him, the playful version, at least. If they had met any other way and if he hadn’t bought her off the street—yeah, yeah, good intentions—she’d consider him friendship material.

Not that she had a lot of friendship experience. Poppy was basically her only friend. Anywhere really, here or on Earth. She could admit to being a grown woman with exactly one friend, as sad as that was.

She had been a quiet kid, and her parents’ secrets meant she kept to herself. No birthday parties. No sleepovers. No soccer team or whatever kids with money did after school. It seemed as if everyone else at school settled into cliques and never made space for her. By the time she got to college, she lacked basic friend skills.

How did people make friends anyway? Do you just walk up to a stranger and say, “You look nice. You’re my friend now.”

That didn’t seem right, despite that being exactly what Poppy said to her, but Carla honestly couldn’t think of another option.

“Smile like you mean it, my sweet,” Ari said.

Scratch all that. He might be friendship material if he kept his damn mouth shut.

Carla smiled as sweetly as she could and batted her lashes. “Do you want to be my friend?”

Ari took a step back, and his wings shivered, as if disgusted. “What is that? Do not do that.”

“Do what?” Her smile widened.

“With your face.”

“It’s my friend face.” She took a step toward him. “This is what friendship looks like.”

“Human faces are too expressive. Cease making the friend face at once,” he said, sounding genuinely horrified.

Oh, this was delightful.

Carla cackled with glee and held out her hands like claws, threatening to pounce… with friendship, of course. No other motivations involved.

“Your pet requires training.”

The stranger’s unwelcome comment was as shocking as having a bucket of cold water dumped on Carla’s head, reminding her that they were very much on display. That was the point.

Carla turned around to find a Khargal woman critically examining her appearance. Carla returned the favor, taking in the woman’s long silver braid and flowy white gown. The silver hair and delicate fabric glowed like moonlight. It appeared elegant without effort, which Carla knew for a fact involved a ton of effort. Carla’s own lavender gray dress with its deep V neck and nearly translucent fabric seemed gaudy in comparison.

Two massive slabs of muscles stood behind the woman at a discreet distance. These men—assuming a masculine gender based on nothing more than body type—had broad, flat noses and a shock of thick, tawny hair that flowed well past their shoulders, giving the appearance of lions.

The Khargal woman’s critical gaze swept over Carla. She did not look impressed.

Ari wrapped a possessive wing around Carla, tucking her into his side. He said, “Madame Delandra.”

Should Carla know that name? It was becoming clear that she and Poppy did not run in the same circles as Ari. That disastrous excursion to the club three nights ago had been the first time in that particular establishment. In hindsight, they were playing out of their league. Sure, they should have spent a couple nights watching people and learning the vibes. Mistakes were made. Chance and a misunderstanding were the only reasons Carla escaped the consequences of their choices while Poppy suffered.

“I did not seek the opinion of others,” Ari said.

“This one is too spirited. She’ll run away,” Delandra said, as if Carla was not even there.

“I am not interested in broken playthings,” Ari replied.

Carla bit her tongue, struggling to keep her mouth shut. Two years she’d been on this planet, and it never got easier having people talk about her like she was a thing or a misbehaving puppy.

“Consider it advice freely given, Lord Solivair.”

“It’s Ari now,” he said. Nothing in his tone or posture said he was bothered, but somehow, Carla knew that name upset Ari.

“Is it? How interesting,” Delandra murmured in a tone that sounded bored. She reached for the gold necklace Carla wore, holding Carla’s gaze as she raised the pendant up to catch the light. “A very pretty ornament.”

This was weird, right? Aliens had different expectations for social etiquette, and the concept of personal space always seemed to be in flux—like right now, tucked under Ari’s wing like a baby chick—but this was weirder than usual.

“Pretty,” she said, still clutching the pendant. Then added, “For a human.”

Carla batted the woman’s hand away, breaking her hold on the necklace. “Well, you’re not so bad for a bitch.”

Delandra raised her hand as if to slap her. The protective shelter of Ari’s wing fell away as he stepped back. Carla squeezed her eyes closed and tensed, waiting for the slap.

Nothing happened.

“Do not,” Ari said.

Carla opened her eyes to see Ari clutching the woman’s wrist.

Furious, Delandra jerked her hand away. “Your pet needs discipline. She lacks proper training.”

“I like Carla the way she is,” he said.

Carla knew it was all part of the act, but she melted just a little. He liked her, even with the shooting and the larceny.

“I see your judgment remains questionable, but to each their own, I suppose. I’d recommend investing in a good collar, not pretty baubles, since you refuse to train your pet,” Delandra said before swanning away. That was unfair. She walked with an elegant glide filled with purpose.

“Come,” Ari said, planting a hand in the middle of her back and giving her no choice but to move. No elegant gliding for her, just a stumble as she lifted the hem of her dress to avoid stepping on the fabric.

He pushed his way through the lounge to the elevators and returned to their hotel suite. Without saying a word, he marched onto the balcony.

Carla gave him a few moments to calm down or whatever before joining him.

The cold spring night air wrapped around them, and the quiet. Distance muffled the noise of the casino and all the chattering patrons several floors below them. There was only the sound of the ocean and the wind.

Three moons hung in the sky, casting enough light to see clearly. Two huddled close together, one large and the other smaller. The smallest was halfway across the sky, like a tiny duckling trailing behind.

Carla went to the railing, wanting to get as close as she could to the enormous sky. Ari kept a healthy distance from the railing.

It was gorgeous. The fresh, salty air felt invigorating after living in the smoky, congested city. Air quality was not a priority here, and neither were health and safety regulations.

She shivered. A sleeveless gown was perfect for a crowded room but not the outdoors.

Without saying a word, Ari shrugged off his jacket and draped it over her shoulders. The warmth of his lingering body heat enveloped her.

“Thank you,” she said, her fingers curling into the fabric. Before she could think better of it, she blurted out, “That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said about me.”

Ari’s brow furrowed. “That you are high -spirited? I would not consider anything that female says to be a compliment.”

“You like me the way I am.”

“That is not a compliment. My taste is questionable.”

Carla shrugged, unbothered. She turned to face him, slouching back against the railing.

His posture stiffened, as if fighting back the urge to caution her about the dangers of railings and poor facility maintenance. Instead, he said, “You did well. Delandra is a notorious information broker.”

“Is that a high-class way of saying she’s a gossip?”

“And a blackmailer. Word about my untrained human companion will soon reach Tavat.”

Good. The night had not been a waste. They were one step closer to rescuing Poppy.

This was fantastic. She buzzed with excitement. Now seemed the perfect opportunity to show Ari the little souvenir she found.

“So, Oliver…” Her voice dragged out in a teasing tone.

“My name is Ari.”

“So, Oliver, do you think Delandra’s jewelry is the real deal?” She twirled a golden bracelet around her index finger like a tiny hula-hoop.

“The name is Solivair,” he said, stressing the second syllable.

“So-lee-vair,” Carla repeated, giving up her attempts to recapture the lighthearted mood from earlier. Delandra spoiled it. With a flick of her wrist, the bracelet stopped spinning and rested in the palm of her hand. “Never mind.”

“It’s Lord Solivair, if you insist on being impertinent,” he said, his voice growing stiff and formal. “The title is technically mine, but my name is Ari.”

“Right. I’ll remember that.” She had a dozen questions to ask about Lord Solivair, Delandra, and what all that was about, but she could tell that now was not the time to be nosy.

Ari finally noticed the bracelet. “What did you do?”

She grinned, slipping the too-large bracelet over her wrist. The lighting on the balcony could be accurately described as mood, but she held her arm up in a hopeful attempt to inspect her loot. Small symbols were etched into the metal finish. “It’s nice, right?”

“Carla, it is wrong to steal,” he said, but it didn’t sound like he had his heart in it.

“Oh, please. If she didn’t want to be robbed, she shouldn’t have grabbed me.” Carla recognized a symbol used for sending messages. She brushed her thumb across the symbol. The band lit up briefly, the characters glowing ruby against the gold.

The characters flashed as if waiting for a code or thumbprint for a biolock.

Excellent. This was no simple bracelet but a communicator. The biolock would require some finagling to circumnavigate, but it wasn’t impossible. Poppy usually handled stuff like that.

This was good. This could be useful.

The light faded as the device went back into sleep mode.

“You are making the friend face again,” Ari said, his tone dry.

“This is my happy face.” Things were finally going to plan. She had a bit of control back, and it was exhilarating.

Impulsively, she reached up and grabbed Ari by his shirt collar. She tugged him down to her level and kissed him.