by Ivy McAdams
“That’s awful.”
“Good way to die.”
No shit. I imagine one of those things could chomp down this entire ship. I cross my fingers in my lap and hope this guy’s a good pilot.
In the meantime…
“By the way, who are you anyway?”
As usual, he sits in silence for a moment before answering. A new screen flips down over the windshield, and I can see a large section of his face in it, like a rearview mirror. His bright eyes find mine and hold them at attention.
“Your bounty hunter.”
The sound of the profession is oddly intriguing. Bounty hunters are like spies, right? Or ninjas, sneaking in and grabbing people for money? Or something like that. With all the adventure.
He didn’t exactly answer my question, however.
“What about your name?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
I’m tempted to drop the whole thing since I heard his partner mention it earlier, but dammit, it’s the principle of the matter now. Why can’t he just tell me? Especially if I’m going to die soon anyway.
“I mean, you’re delivering me into Lord knows what scenario—I could be sentenced to death for being a shitty human, couldn’t I?”
One of his brows lifts in his rearview screen. “It’s possible to be sentenced to death, yes.”
“There you go. I think the least I deserve is to know who’s delivering me to my grave.”
“I’m not your sentencing. I’m just your ride.”
Holy moly, this guy is infuriating.
“Fine. Ride Dude, you gotta name?”
Why the hell do I even care anymore? If he doesn’t want to tell me, so what? But the challenge has been delivered and I must know.
He huffs in agitation. “Dax of Praezoria.”
That wasn’t so hard.
“What’s Praezoria?”
“A small planet in sector eight.”
And to think, yesterday I didn’t know anything existed beyond the moon and the handful of planets I learned about in grade school. Apparently, there are aliens and other planets, spaceships, suns, different sectors of space. Absolute insanity.
Rather than try to imagine the vast expanse of space, I keep my focus on him. It could be a good way to pass the time.
“Is your family still there? On Praezoria?”
“Some of them.”
“Do they approve of your…profession?”
He makes a breathy noise that sounds like a laugh. “They chase bounties too.”
Damn. I should have seen that one coming.
“Right. Well, is it nice there?”
He drops his hands from the dash and turns his chair to face me with a gruff sigh. “If you like sand.”
“Like beaches?”
“Like deserts that can swallow a town whole.”
Yeesh. “That doesn’t sound safe.”
“It’s not.”
Hmm. I think the conversation is getting away from me.
“Don’t you people have cool spaceships or something you can live in and not deal with the sand?”
He scoffs out a laugh. It’s interesting how his mouth moves into a half-smile, almost distracting actually, but it’s not a nice laugh. He shakes his head as if he can’t believe a word I’m saying.
“We have ways of dealing with the sand.”
More secrets. Fine. Let’s change gears.
“How does anyone out here in space even know who I am? I’ve never been to space.”
“I don’t read records. I just fetch.”
I purse my lips. What kind of half-ass job does he do that he doesn’t even properly research his target?
“Do you even know my name?” I ask with a tilt of the head.
The slow, sly tilt of his eyebrow tells me he does. “I know more about you than you realize, Esme Phillips.”
My heartbeat skips a beat at the sound of my name. Then the way his eyes glow brighter, more intense, makes it beat harder. Something about the way he’s looking at me, knowing that he’s researched me, makes my hands a little sweaty.
“What exactly do you—?”
A sharp movement in my side vision catches my eye. Something much faster than the gentle giants. It’s a ship, bigger than this one and covered in a patchwork of different color metal parts. A mostly orange hull with black blade-like wings. A skull is stamped in white on the side. Something about the sharp lines of the vessel and the puffs of yellow smoke that trail behind it unnerves me.
It comes right at us.
“Is that supposed to happen?” I say.
Dax turns just in time to see the ship as it circles us. His hands tense and he turns all his focus on the dash again, pressing and swiping so fast. My restraints pop free and I freeze, unsure of what to do.
“You need to get somewhere safe,” Dax says without looking back at me. He doesn’t even glance in the rearview screen.
Zeus is on his feet and staring up at me. I’m numb. What is this other ship out there? Dax’s body language says it’s someone dangerous, and I can barely swallow that. This big dude with the glowing eyes and horns is afraid of someone else?
My mind is blank. I can’t even imagine big bad aliens. The only thing still rolling through my brain is the sound of his words. Somewhere safe.
I’m free. For now. To run.
I hop down from the seat and Zeus pushes at my hand and hip, inching me toward the door. But I don’t need his encouragement this time. I’m gone.
We hurry out of the cockpit and into the main room. There’s the exit door. If anyone’s coming in or out we don’t need to be near that.
“Come on, Zeus,” I say as I run down the hallway, past the room with the original hostage chair, and to the next door.
It’s closed. I feel around the wall, looking for some sort of switch. The metal surface is covered with a dusty grime that makes me gag. Between the flickering lights and the tubes hanging from the ceiling, I’m starting to wonder if this ship is even fit for flying. Are there any regulations for vessels in space?
And where is this damn button? My hands slide around the frame for the door, collecting dirt and dust.
Zeus leaps up on his hind legs beside me and noses a nearly invisible switch next to a dingy symbol painted on the wall. The door zips open.
I don’t have a spare second to worry about being outsmarted by a dog, because I can hear the loud squawking voice coming from the cockpit.
“Daxius Altair, we need our triessence converter.”
It echoes through the hallway. A muffled reply answers.
“Don’t worry. We’ll come get it ourselves.”
My stomach clenches as a new wave of fear runs up all my appendages. Zeus and I dive through the doorway and into a dark room. Just as I go to search for the interior button panel, the ship jolts violently to one side. Zeus stops sniffing around the room to lunge for me, pushing me out of the doorway. We huddle down under a table jutting from the wall, pressing in close and falling as silent as possible.
The silence that follows is uncomfortable, and I take a quick moment to look over the room, so be sure we’re safe. A low bed covered with a mess of blankets takes up most of the space. There’s a bedside table platform jutting out of the wall, as well as the slightly larger one we’re hiding under. A helmet hangs in one corner, and beneath it, a small glass orb glows a soft blue.
This must be Dax’s bedroom.
Something about being in his personal space feelings oddly intimate. I want to look around more, but there are much more important things going on.
The strange voice outside is gone, but there are other sounds. Like Dax’s boots in the main room. The outer door opening. What sounds like many more feet joining him.
Whoever was in that other ship, they’re now on this one.
I’ve got a bad feeling about this.
“You remember the deal we made, don’t you, Dax?” The same voice that came over the intercom before says.
“I don’t have your triessence converter, Krut,” Dax growls back, “but I’m on a job right now. I can get you one as soon as I get to the Metagalactic Cruiser.”
“You don’t remember. I see. But I seem to remember telling you I needed to have the triessence converter rotations ago. Do you see a converter in my hands?”
My heart thrums against my ribs. This guy Krut sounds angry, and I’m guessing from Dax’s reaction to seeing his ship earlier, that he’s not a particularly good dude.
“No,” Dax grunts.
“This isn’t a new policy, my friend,” Krut says loudly. “Take him.”
There’s a scuffling and Dax growls. I put my hand to my mouth in surprise. Is he going to be okay?
Something solid hits the floor and a small voice wails.
“Cool it, Altair,” Krut snarls. “Don’t make me break out the big guns. You think it’ll be any hide off my ears if I shoot you?”
Oh my God. They can’t kill him. Not only will I never get home, I’ll never get anywhere. I’ll die on this cold, floating ship that I don’t know how to drive.
Desperate to help us survive, I creep out from under the table to the open door. Zeus woofs behind me, but I hold a finger up to my lips. Then I lean out a fraction to peek down the hallway.
Dax stands in the middle of the main room, hands on his hips and a scowl on his face. He looks so tall and hard standing there.
I’m surprised to find the three others in there with him to be so small. They barely come up to his hips. They have dull blue skin and large ears. One stands next to him, a long rifle at the ready. A second rolls on the floor next to them, as if he’s recovering from a fall.
The third stands facing Dax, arms crossed over his chest and a glower on his face. He’s unarmed but he looks ferociously menacing. He must be Krut.
“I’m not going with you,” Dax snarls. “I’ll get you your converter.”
Krut’s face contorts into an even angrier frown. The alien with the gun moves toward Dax, prodding him with the tip.
“You think you’re just going to walk away, breaking one of my deals?” Krut’s bat-eared head shakes. “No one breaks my deals.”
Dax’s hands clench at his sides as if he’s ready to punch each one of them in the face. But Krut’s men have guns, and if I’m not mistaken, the smaller alien is reaching for something behind his back with his three-fingered hand. It looks like another gun.
Dax is outnumbered and outgunned. There’s no way we’re getting out of this.
With a sick stomach, I drop back into the room and look around. The blue glow from the orb in the corner isn’t much to see with, but the small bedside shelf draws my attention. It is cluttered with some metal and plastic-looking items I don’t recognize, what looks like a book, and a couple bars of some sort of glowing material. Then a chunk of molded metal that I look at twice. I’m not very weapon-smart, but it looks like the butt of a gun.
I hurry to it while Zeus woofs at me again.
“Shh,” I hiss. “We have to do something.”
He follows me as I sneak over to the shelf and begin quietly removing some of the debris. He whines and makes more noise.
“Quiet, Zeus. You know we have to. They’re going to kill him. Then what? You going to fly us home?”
He snorts and snaps his teeth together. I look over at him, feeling oddly like we’re communicating on a level we never have before. I’m just running my mouth over here. Does he understand me?
Once some of the random junk is lying on the bed, I can slide the rectangular metal slab free.
“Thank God,” I breathe, holding up the handgun.
I have no idea what it shoots—bullets? Lasers? Something I’ve never even seen before? But it may be our only hope. I slip back over to the door and hold my breath as I listen.
When I peek down the hallway this time, Krut is holding a similar gun pointed at Dax’s face. His goonies are posted on either side of Dax’s long legs, guns jutting into his hips. He has his hands held out of either side of him, palms up to the ceiling, and a twisted snarl on his face. His eyes rage.
“What’d you say to me?” Krut growls. His hands look much too tight on his gun, like he’s ready to fire at any moment.
This may be my only chance.
I fiddle with my gun as I step out into the hall. It’s out in front of me in rigid arms before I know it. I point the barrel toward Krut’s head. That’d be the safest route, wouldn’t it? One shot and done? Hell if I know.
“You’re early, you zornath. Fuck your deals,” Dax barks, hands clenching into fists.
Krut’s eyes flash, and I know it’s his breaking point. I squeeze my trigger before getting the chance to find out.
Chapter 7
A zap of blue light cracks through the air, pinging off Krut’s gun and slamming into one of his henchmen. Krut and his goonie fly backward and hit the ground. His second man runs for cover. Dax jumps back, gaze searching the room. When it lands on me, his eyes widen.
He crosses the room to me as I run out to meet him.
“What the hell are you doing?” he says when he puts his hands on my shoulders.
It’s hardly the Thanks for the rescue I expected and I wrench out of his grasp.
“How about saving your ass?”
“I had it under control,” he grumbles, pushing me toward the wall.
At first, I don’t know what he’s doing and fight him, but when a green bolt of light hits a storage cabinet over my head, I shriek and duck down closer to him. He shields me with his body as he herds me into the corner of the room. I nearly trip over some broken crates and junk against the wall but manage to keep my feet long enough to peek out from behind him.
Krut is on his feet and firing in our direction. The inside of the ship is way too small to be having a gunfight. And there’s no way Dax is going to survive being my meat shield.
Thankfully, he has that figured out. Once we’re in the corner beside a table platform protruding from the wall, he kicks a locking mechanism next to it. The platform creaks and the entire rectangular slab falls from its inserted position in the wall. He catches it and spins it to cover our bodies. I stare up at him as he hoists the table in front of us. His arms and chest strain against the fabric of his suit and I wonder if he’s going to Hulk out of it.
The blasts ping off the slab over and over, and I bend beneath Dax’s legs to shoot back. Krut and one of his goonies flinch as the blast hits the floor between them. Dax holds the shield steady as the blue guys return fire. Shots volley back and forth.
When one of mine hits the henchman and he falls, Krut’s ears lower. He shoots off another few blasts as he runs.
“I’ll see you again soon, Altair!” he shouts angrily, rushing for the exit door.
Once the shots come to an end and we hear the hatch close again, Dax lowers the table to the floor. Krut’s goonie lies on the floor, his gun gone.
I stumble back to sit on the remains of a crate. “Holy shit. What just happened?”
Dax sets the platform aside and huffs out an irritated breath. “I should ask you the same thing.”
“What? Is it also against the law to save people out here?”
“You had no idea what was going on and just came in shooting.”
“But they were going to kill you.”
“Maybe.”
I scoff, tossing my hands in the air in defeat. “Coming in with the big rescue is supposed to be heroic. What’s the big deal?”
Dax falls silent and his tongue runs over his lip slowly. It’s much lighter than his skin, but more of a purple than pink like mine. Something about the way the tip of it slides over his lips is intriguing. It makes his angry face much…sexier. Not that the glowering look doesn’t look good on him already, but that one was even better.
Wait, what?
I pinch my lips in tight, unsure where those thoughts came from. There are much more serious things going on here.
Like how pissed Dax is. Again.<
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“Those are pirates,” he says. “They don’t take kindly to being shot at.”
That’s sounding bad already. “Space pirates?
“Krut will keep an eye out for me now and come after me when I least expect it. He doesn’t take defeat well. At all.”
“That does sound rough. My bad.”
He looks away from me, his jaw tense and hands on his hips. Seeing the actual stress on his face makes my stomach ache. Dammit, I screwed up. I was only trying to help. Not make his life worse.
“I mean, I’m sorry I didn’t slow down to weigh the options,” I say. “I thought they were going to kill you. I thought…”
He’s turned just enough to glance back at me. There’s a curiosity burning in his eyes. “I’m surprised you didn’t just let them.”
Ouch.
But…true.
My fingers on the gun tighten. I’d forgotten I was still holding it. With slow deliberate movements, I set the weapon on the ground and take my seat again. “You distrust humans that much?”
His eyes narrow a fraction. “Shouldn’t I?”
“I don’t know what humans do up here, but I’m not a part of them. I’m…” Hell, I don’t know what I am. I’m lost. In the dark. I’m totally ignorant of humans in space and their relationships. How am I supposed to know what he’s been through?
“Humans are all the same,” he says.
I want to retort, but he shakes his head, his big horns swaying. Then he continues.
“Though Zeus says otherwise. He vouches for you.”
I frown. “Zeus?”
Dax nods to something over my shoulder.
I spin to find the German shepherd hovering at the end of the hallway, watching us silently.
“I knew you could talk to him.” I turn back to pin Dax with my eyes.
The alien shrugs a shoulder. “Humans have limited language skills.”
I fold my arms over my chest with a frustrated groan. More human bashing?
“Although I guess you’re alright,” Dax says with a low voice. He puts a big hand on my shoulder. “Thanks for trying to save my life.”
I guess that’s enough, given that they may come back to kill him again now. “You’re welcome.”
Our eyes meet, and I’m not sure what to say. There’s still enough interesting things about him to look at, between the horns, tattoos, and chiseled jaw—not to mention his back and tail I haven’t gotten a good look at yet—so I’m good just doing some rude staring, but he seems as if he wants to say something else.