Chapter 10

Chapter

Ten

R ixx held his breath in the dark. Myrria and Zala had gone to sleep, and he no longer heard snatched whispers from the loft above. Still, he slowed his breath and waited until he was sure they were both sleeping, using breathing techniques he'd learned on the sands to quiet his heart rate and breath when hunting sand serpents.

He was not hovering on a dune with silent breath as he watched the sand for any ripples, though. He was waiting for the right time to sneak from the house.

Even as he thought about leaving Myrria and Zala, his stomach twisted. Zala would be upset. She would not understand. But Rixx knew he was doing this for her, for her and her mother. They could not be safe when he was in their house.

It was only a matter of time until the Zevrians landed on Myrria's doorstep and found him. That much had been clear when she'd burst into the house, her eyes wild. She had tried to downplay her worry, but it had pulsed off her in waves that had almost made him recoil.

"We must hide you."

Those had been her words, which had made Zala jump to her feet and sweep the small space frantically with her gaze. Then Myrria had reconsidered her outburst and reassured her daughter that Rixx would be safe until she could think of a better place to conceal him. But her lies had not convinced him. He could feel her fear.

Now as he prepared to steal away in the night so Myrria would no longer be afraid for her daughter's safety and for his, he frowned. He should not be able to feel anything from the human. She was not Dothvek. She was not empathic. She had no way of sending her thoughts, her feelings, her fears, but he had sensed them, hadn't he?

He touched a hand to his chest, sending nothing now. It was a relief to have only his emotions to deal with, but now that he couldn't pick up anyone else's feelings, he missed them. There had been something comforting and familiar about the pulse, hum, buzz of another's emotions. Since he'd left his home world and then the ship, his thoughts and feelings had been desolately alone. Until he'd woken in Myrria's home.

It does not matter, Rixx told himself. Picking up the faintest pulse from a human only meant that he was in a weakened state. He was in no position to defend Myrria and Zala. He was in no state to fight like a Dothvek warrior. The only way to save them was to leave.

When the rhythmic sound of snoring drifted down the ladder, Rixx padded from the bedroom to the front door, lifting the chair that Myrria had used to block it and placing it quietly to the side. He turned the handle and pulled open the door, pausing to make sure he hadn't been heard. The gentle snoring did not falter, so he opened the door wider and poked his head outside.

The alley was only lit by the shadows of moonlight slinking through clouds overhead, but Rixx scoured the narrow, dark passageway. There was no sound, no movement. There was only the fetid smell of garbage and the lingering scent of mildew.

Rixx glanced over his shoulder to the warmth of the small house that had been his home for the past few days. Even in the dark, the shapes of the table and benches reminded him of dinner with Myrria and Zala, and the air carried a hint of the evening's baked bread.

He steeled himself and glanced at the loft. "I am sorry I did not say goodbye." Then he pulled the chair over and tucked it beneath the inside handle as he closed it firmly.

Rixx did not linger for more than a mournful moment before turning and walking down the alley away from the unassuming doorway. The more distance he put between him and his rescuers, the better, although he did not know exactly where he should go.

The Den of Thieves did not sleep. He knew this much from what he'd been told of the place and the many nights he'd spent as a captive. The low buzz of music and shouts never completely died, so he knew he had to be careful. The night would only provide a small amount of cover, especially since he did not blend.

Rixx darted a look at the baggy shirt that Myrria had made him. It did cover most of his exposed skin and his markings, but that did not mean he didn't stand above most of the humans and aliens who populated Kurril. As soon as day broke and the sun hit his gold skin, he would be like a beacon to the Zevrians.

"Where does one hide in a city of criminals and those wishing not to be found?"

He turned from one alley into another, certain he was only one of many hoping to slip through the planet's underbelly without being caught. So, where did those creatures hide?

As he reached the end of a deserted alley, he paused and took a deep breath. Charred wood and human flesh. He remembered those scents. The site of the burning building he'd escaped from was near, which meant that he should go in the opposite direction. He had no desire to see the destruction or get a stronger whiff of ashes and soot.

Just as he ducked down another narrow passageway leading away from the smell, he stopped in his tracks. There it was again, the pulse of fear he'd felt from Myrria. He shook it off, telling himself that he was imagining things. He wanted to feel her, but it wasn't real.

Then Rixx was hit with a pulse of panic so powerful it almost knocked the wind from him. He had not imagined that. Myrria was in danger.

Rixx turned around and ran.