2. Alana

"It's slow tonight, huh?" Maisie remarks, folding her arms.

"Tell me about it." I sigh. "Our tips tonight are going to be shit."

"Well, at least we don't have to keep going to the vault every hour to download our credits. Some nights, I swear I just go up and down to the vault all night long."

We're supposed to never carry more than about a thousand credits on us at any given time. If we get robbed on the floor, the owners don't want us turning over a credstick worth a fortune, so making sure we make regular deposits is the best way to avoid that.

I heard once, a long time ago, a girl got her credstick stolen at the end of a thirteen-hour shift. The casino was out something like a hundred thousand credits.

I thought maybe the obvious answer was that no one should be working thirteen hours without taking at least one clock-out break, but I guess the real lesson was just that they should just make us walk the nearly quarter-mile trek to the vault more often. Sure.

"Oh, he looks like a big tipper," Maisie remarks, tipping her head discreetly toward a well-dressed Vakutan. "I call dibs."

She starts heading his way with a predatory smile, then stops abruptly. "Dammit!" Her shoulders sag, and I turn to realize two other drink girls are already hanging off him, one on each arm.

"You'll get the next one." I pat her arm in a halfhearted attempt to cheer her up.

She glowers. "There is no way I'm standing around in all this smog and still missing rent. This night had better be worth it." She waves an arm to indicate all the cigars and the smoke that hangs in a thick haze over everything.

Maisie gets her wish about an hour later when a tall Kaleidian takes a liking to her. I'm pretty sure he orders a drink every time she twirls her blond hair, even though he gives half of them away to his friends. I'm not sure if he's trying to impress them or her until I see him tip her on her personal comm pad for the third time.

I make my way up two stories to the vault even though I have next to no money to deposit. Maybe it's wishful thinking. Maybe I'm just jealous and don't want to look at Maisie anymore. Doesn't matter. I figure at least it's a chance to stretch my legs.

I almost quit and head back to the floor when I realize the hover pad elevator isn't working. That's weird. It's not the kind of equipment that normally breaks down. I don't know if it's ever stopped working in the three years I've worked here, to be honest.

I almost turn around right then and head back to the floor. It's not like I actually need to go upstairs. Then I shrug and decide I might as well take the walk. I'm bored anyway, and I've made it this far.

A guard nods at me as I pass him on my way to the stairwell. He pushes a couple of buttons and scans his thumbprint. The door slides back into the wall, letting me pass.

I'm out of breath when I reach the vault room. Normally, we just insert our credstick into a data port next to the door. I'm already holding my credstick out as I approach when I notice the door is cracked open. It's almost imperceptible. If I had only glanced down the hall from a distance, I'm not sure I'd have noticed.

"That's really weird," I mutter, a funny clenching feeling in my chest. Slowly, as though it could burn me, I put one hand out to push the door open a little wider.

It gives easily, creaking a little as it rolls open. I hold my breath, trying to get the courage to look inside and see what's going on.

It's probably nothing. Most likely, it's a manager in there or something. It's not like people don't go in there just because I never have.

I don't think my shoulders are even past the threshold of the door when a hard, muscular body bumps into me.

"Ouch!" I say reflexively, stunned by how much it hurts. I'm practically seeing stars, just from a tiny collision. I take a step back, trying to gather my wits about me.

That's when I take in the person before me. He doesn't belong here. He definitely doesn't belong here. I want to scream, shout for a guard, anything, but I can't. There's no air in my lungs.

Only a split second later, it's already too late. He snatches me by my ponytail and drags me into the vault room with him. Then he clamps his hand over my mouth. I try to bite down, desperate for anything that will make him let go of me, but he only laughs.

"Are you serious?" he scoffs. His breath is warm in my ear as he presses into me, my back tight to his front so that he can hold me still.

I try to look at my captor out of the corner of my eye. His skin is black and thick, with jagged teeth that seem to form a perpetual grimace. His silver hair is short, showing off a thick, muscular neck that matches the rest of his hard form.

For some reason, my only thought is that he looks like he used to be handsome. I don't know why it occurs to me at all, considering it's regarding a person I saw for the first time about ten seconds ago. But when I look at him, it seems like a fact that he was once very, very handsome, and still perhaps is. But it's hard to see it underneath all his anger.

He must feel my eyes on him. He spins me around and pins me against the wall, shifting so that he can lean down to look me in the eyes. His hand is still covering my mouth, the meaty pad of his palm shoved between my teeth so that I can't make a sound.

His red eyes probe mine, and I can't look away. Even when he speaks, I don't hear what he says the first time. I'm busy studying those eyes, feeling as though I'm lost in another world, one that lies behind them.

For just a moment, I can see him with golden skin instead, and then it washes away so quickly it's as if it was never there at all.

I can't help but shiver.

He pulls his head back, looking at me accusingly. Did he just go into whatever trance I did? Does he think I'm responsible?

But then the grimace settles over his face again, and he moves his other hand to the back of my neck. "You're coming with me," he decides. I'm tempted to ask him what that even means, but everything suddenly starts swimming in my vision as my head gets light.

Too late, I realize he's pinching a nerve in the back of my neck. I squirm, trying to lift my leg to kick him away, but the fight is over before it even begins. My knee barely reaches to graze his thigh before the pulsing in my ears swells and everything goes dark.

"Why didn'tyou just kill her?"

Whoever that is, they sound angry. I guess you'd have to be, if you were trying to kill someone.

"Are you questioning my judgment, Renari?" another voice snaps back. "You're here to assist me, you remember."

"Well, let me assist you in getting rid of her. She's going to bring problems, Karvex. When did we get in the business of hostages? Especially ones who have no value?"

"Who says she has no value?"

The first voice snorts, but there's no humor at all. "She's a human. They're all powerless and broke. What could you possibly get out of keeping her? It's one more mouth to feed."

It's only at this point that the fog clears from my brain enough to realize they're talking about me. Everything rushes back in a flood, and I open my eyes to figure out just where I am before I can think twice.

I realize with dismay that I probably should have pretended to sleep a little longer. I might have learned something useful.

I'm definitely not in the casino anymore. Dull metal walls surround me, and I can tell by the motion underneath me that we're moving through the air. It must be a spaceship. His spaceship? Where is he taking me?

I turn to face the two speakers, recognizing one as my kidnapper. He's kneeling close, studying me with an almost eager expression on his face. The other one recoils with a sneer of disgust. He stares between me and my kidnapper and lets out an indignant huff.

"You're making a mistake, Karvex. She's going to ruin us. You should kill her while you still can." Then he storms out of the room, leaving me alone with the one he called Karvex.

"He's right. You should let me go while you can. I won't say anything to anyone," I offer.

His red eyes seem to be looking into my soul when he answers. It's piercing and hollow, yet there's something warm radiating distantly. It's like standing far from a bonfire, but still being able to feel the licks of heat drifting from the flames. I want to get closer, to be wrapped in the scent and security the fire promises. Something in my heart is begging to be closer to him.

But I'm terrified of getting burned.

"I'll do what I want with you. If you know anything about me, know that."

I do know you. I want to tell him so badly. I swallow it down, feeling like something that used to be mine is now his, and I can still see it in his eyes.