2. Maryse

CHAPTER 2

MARYSE

M y boots slap against the grimy durasteel as I sprint through the narrow alley. The recycled station air burns in my lungs. Behind me, the heavy thud of Grolgath feet grows closer.

"Fresh meat runs fast," one growls in broken Standard.

The sound of their claws scraping metal sends ice down my spine. Dad always said I had more curiosity than sense. Should have listened to him instead of taking this "shortcut."

My compad chirps another useless direction.

"Turn left in twenty meters to reach-"

I hurl it behind me. The satisfying crunch of electronics tells me it hit one of my pursuers.

"Little thief breaks toys!"

The alley branches ahead - left or right? The dim emergency lighting casts everything in blood-red shadows. Both paths look equally dark and terrifying.

"Split up. Corner the meat," the deeper voice commands.

The socket wrench definitely wasn't worth this. What I wouldn't give for station security right now. Or better yet, one of Dad's pulse rifles.

My side cramps as I dodge around a stack of empty cargo containers. The metal walls press in closer, barely wide enough for my shoulders. If the Grolgath are twice as wide as humans...

A plan forms. A stupid, desperate plan, but better than ending up like that poor bastard back there.

I sprint faster toward the narrowing passage. Behind me, the scrape of claws grows louder, accompanied by eager growls. They think they have me trapped.

The gap ahead shrinks to barely half a meter. Here goes nothing.

I turn sideways and squeeze through, my jacket catching on rough metal. The curses and roars behind me say my pursuers won't fit.

But I'm not safe yet. They'll find another way around. I force my burning legs to keep running.

Left, right, another left - the passages blur together in this maze of metal and shadows. The wrench in my pocket bangs against my hip with each step. My lungs burn from running, and my legs feel like lead.

Stupid, stupid decision throwing away my compad. Now I'm completely lost in these maintenance tunnels. The emergency lighting flickers, casting dancing shadows that make every corner look menacing.

A distant roar echoes through the passages. The Grolgath haven't given up.

"Where did the meat go?"

Their guttural voices bounce off the walls. No way to tell how close they are. Or which direction they're coming from.

Another turn and - no. My heart sinks. A solid wall of durasteel towers before me, at least ten feet high. Rust streaks its surface like dried blood in the red emergency lights.

Heavy footsteps thunder closer. The scrape of claws on metal sends shivers down my spine.

"Fresh scent. Close now."

My fingers probe the wall's surface, finding shallow ridges where panels join together. The metal feels slick under my sweating hands. Maybe if I...

I jam my boots into the lowest ridge and haul myself up. The wrench shifts in my pocket, threatening to fall. My arms shake as I reach for the next handhold.

"This way! Heard movement!"

Halfway up. Don't look down. Don't think about falling. The metal groans under my weight.

"See it! Up there!"

My fingers slip on the smooth surface. Heart pounding, I dig them harder into the seam. Just a few more feet...

Claws dig into my ankle. My scream echoes off the metal walls as I'm yanked down. The ground rushes up and pain explodes through my shoulder as I hit the deck.

Rancid breath washes over my face. A massive hand clamps over my mouth, muffling my cries. The Grolgath's scales scrape against my back as he pins my arms.

His partner looms over me, yellow eyes glowing in the dim light. His claws catch on the zipper of my jumpsuit.

"Little college girl." His growl vibrates through my chest. "If you're nice to us, golden-hair, we be nice to you."

Metal teeth part as he drags the zipper down. Cold recycled air hits my exposed skin. I thrash against their grip but it's like fighting durasteel. The wrench digs into my hip, a useless weapon now.

The zipper stops at my navel. Tears blur my vision as rough scales scrape my bare stomach. My heart pounds so hard I think it might burst.

I kick out but the Grolgath just laughs, a wet gurgling sound that makes bile rise in my throat. His partner's claws dig deeper into my face.

"Stop moving, pretty thing. Make this easy."

A massive ebony arm wraps around my attacker's throat. Bone spurs glint red in the emergency lighting. The Grolgath's yellow eyes bulge as his grip on my zipper goes slack.

The crack of his neck splitting apart ricochets through the narrow passage. His body crumples beside me like a discarded puppet.

I stare up at my savior, unable to process what I'm seeing. Red eyes pierce the darkness. White hair frames features that belong in ancient tales of death incarnate.

"Let the human go." His voice rumbles like distant thunder.

The claws release my face. I gasp in recycled air that tastes sweeter than the finest champagne. The remaining Grolgath shoves me aside, metal deck biting into my palms as I scramble away.

Steel flashes as he draws a wicked blade. "Reaper scum!"

My rescuer moves faster than thought. Bone-tipped claws rake across the Grolgath's throat in a spray of arterial blood. The knife clatters to the deck as my attacker clutches his ruined neck, gurgling his last breath.

My fingers tremble as I yank the zipper up, face burning. The Reaper towers over me, his bone spurs casting jagged shadows in the emergency lighting. Blood drips from his ebony claws - Grolgath blood, but it could just as easily be mine.

"Thanks, Mr. um..."

"Bruticus." His deep voice echoes off the metal walls. Those crimson eyes study me like I'm a particularly interesting specimen. "Why are you in such a dangerous place? You are a tiny creature."

The words die in my throat. Dad's warnings about Reapers flash through my mind - soulless killing machines, he'd called them. But this one just saved me. Though maybe being torn apart by Grolgath would have been kinder than whatever he has planned.

I press my back against the cold wall, trying to put some distance between us without being obvious about it. The socket wrench digs into my hip, a pitiful defense against someone who just snapped a Grolgath's neck like a twig.

"I... got lost taking a shortcut." My voice comes out steadier than I expect. "The maintenance tunnels looked faster than going around."

His bone spurs flex as he tilts his head. The movement reminds me of a predator sizing up prey. Which, I suppose, is exactly what's happening here.

"I will guide you back to the main concourse." His deep voice resonates through my chest. "But you must be more careful..."

The words trail off as our eyes meet. My breath catches. This close, his crimson irises aren't just red - they shimmer like solar flares captured in crystal. Delicate patterns swirl within, hypnotic and otherworldly.

Sweat breaks out on my body, and not from fear or exertion. His scent fills my nostrils, spurring the hair on my skin to stand on end. This Reaper devours me with his gaze, and makes no pretense about his desire.

The emergency lights cast shadows across the planes of his face, highlighting those dangerous bone spurs. Yet there's an unexpected grace to them, like the elaborate scrollwork on ancient samurai armor. My fingers itch to trace their edges.

His massive frame towers over me, radiating power and raw strength. The kind of strength that just snapped a Grolgath's neck without breaking a sweat. I should be terrified. Instead, heat pools in my belly as I imagine those powerful arms wrapping around me, crushing me against his broad chest.

What would those lips feel like against mine? Would he be gentle, holding back his inhuman strength? Or would he unleash that primal energy I glimpsed during the fight?

Something electric sparks between us as our gazes lock. The sensation shoots straight through my chest, like a tether pulling me toward him. This isn't just attraction - it's deeper, primal, as if some part of my soul recognizes his.

"Come. The concourse is this way." His deep voice breaks the spell.

I follow his broad back through the maze of maintenance tunnels, watching bone spurs flex with each movement. The emergency lighting paints shadows across his ebony skin that make my fingers itch to trace their patterns.

"Left here." He gestures at another junction.

The familiar buzz of the main concourse grows louder with each step. Bruticus moves with lethal grace despite his size, like a predator stalking through his territory. Yet his presence makes me feel safer than I've ever been.

We emerge into the bright lights and bustle of the station's main thoroughfare. The contrast leaves me blinking. Bruticus hesitates at the threshold, one foot still in shadow.

"You are safe now." His words come slow, reluctant.

"Wait." The word bursts from my lips before he can retreat. "Let me buy you dinner. To thank you for saving me."

His crimson eyes widen slightly. "That is not necessary."

"Please. I insist." Heat creeps up my neck but I hold his gaze. "I know a great place that serves synthetic protein. Unless you have somewhere else to be?"

Something softens in his expression. "I... do not."

"Perfect." My heart skips at his acceptance. "Follow me?"

He nods, falling into step beside me. His massive frame draws stares from passing humans, but I find myself leaning closer rather than away. That invisible tether between us pulls taut with anticipation.