by Stone, Layla
The female grinned. “You’ve got a great attitude. I like that.”
“You need to get yourself checked out. Mostly your hearing because I said I wasn’t working for you.”
“You will now that I know you don’t have anywhere else to go.” The female feigned surprise. “Oh, I forgot to tell you, a friend of mine works at the front desk. I’ve been looking for you since you found a ride off the main road. I know you have my homner. Was sent to pick it up for my boss. Time to hand it over. And I emptied your bank account as a fee for pissing me off.”
Hoping against hope that the female was bluffing, Adelia said, “What’s a homner?”
“Really? You’re going to go with that? I expected more.” The female took a step forward to enter the room, and Adelia quickly slipped her foot behind the blue female, using her knee and shoulder to topple the Demon over.
The female fell back. Adelia was already shutting and locking the door before she hit the floor. As stupid as it was, she wanted to call Z for help.
On the other side of the door, the female yelled, “Give back the homner, and we’ll call it even.”
If the female knew as much as she claimed, then she would have known that Adelia had been at Z’s. it wouldn’t take a genius to figure out that’s where the homner was. Which meant, the Roth didn’t know anything at all.
So, Adelia needed two things now. First was to slip out of the hotel without being seen by the Roth Demon, and the second was to take Z up on his offer for a job because she was broke with no way off the port planet other than claiming to be a Luri—and she wouldn’t ever do that.
If she did, her family would know just how low she had sunk.
7
Sleeping Silk
He was right; she smelled like honey and pim.
Back in his office, her scent didn’t linger like he had hoped. The seat she’d sat in was empty, and he wondered if she would return the next morning. He’d gambled forgoing the contacts list and giving her the money first in an effort to win back a little trust. But just in case she’d missed his kind gesture, he’d sent her to a luxury hotel where she could spend a good chunk of her freedom money.
And if that failed, he’d decided to make it impossible for her to get off the planet. Z pulled up the list of incoming and outgoing merchant ships.
Thirty-five.
Bringing up a separate section on his Minky desk, he typed a general letter.
Captain,
Do not allow passage to a female with dark hair and yellowish hazel eyes. She’s about five-five and slender. She’s cunning and a thief. If you capture her, I will pay a finder’s fee.
Z
He selected all thirty-five names and blind copied all then hit transmit. Backup plan in place, he leaned back, opened the drawer, and pulled out his bottle of jubriaan and a glass. He poured himself two fingers while powering off the Minky desk.
Standing up, he walked back into his warehouse.
There was a special container in the back. It was a red metal and ten feet tall and round, with one side made of hard, clear plastic. He walked to the side of the container, drink in hand, and peered at his ex-associate.
Trent was lying on his back, arms and legs spread, blood coating his blue button-up that he had paired with grey slacks. The male’s face was no longer swollen, and his chest rose and fell steadily.
The container had advanced healing. Anything broken, gashed, or otherwise done to the skin, muscle, bone, and veins were fixed while inside.
Zane had purchased it years ago. It had been his biggest personal purchase yet.
It was a prototype of a design made by a Federation doctor named Ansel. He was a Numan, and well ahead of the Federation’s medical advancements. The Federation hadn’t sold this to Z, but he was able to procure it from a medical officer who had a gambling problem.
Years ago, Zane had been sitting at a Permom game, when a male lost and was told by the pit boss to pay his debts. All two hundred thousand keleps of it.
While playing, Zane had learned where the male worked—at the Federation Academy, specifically in the medical field. The talkative kid had been going on about a Numan who ended up teaching them more than they knew about physiology. Apparently, the Numan had built a container that healed wounds quickly.
Zane had paid the male’s debts in exchange for the container.
After lots of fake paperwork to make the Federation believe that the container had been broken and that Z was going to fix it, he took possession of it. Then the officer lost the paperwork, and no one knew where the healing device was or who had it.
Zane used it for when Shine hurt himself in his lab and needed immediate help. Shine was a brilliant chemist, and although he was careful, accidents happened when experimenting with new substances. This was the first time Z had used it to heal someone he’d hurt on purpose.
And as dark as it felt, Zane didn’t believe that it would be his last time. Z spoke, knowing that his ex-associate couldn’t hear him. “I’m going to kill you, Trent. As soon as I find out who you’ve been working with.”
Pulling the glass to his lips, he took a sip. The taste was…. Wrong. It had a hint of pim to it. Disappointed, he tilted the offending tumbler in his hand, looking at the light, straw-colored alcohol and wondering what had happened. Then it hit him. He’d grabbed the wrong glass. This was the one that Adelia had used.
Refusing to waste the expensive drink, he tipped the glass back and gulped the rest. The pim aftertaste wasn’t there, and he figured the alcohol had killed any saliva that Adelia had left on the rim.
With an empty glass, it was time to take a hot shower, get dressed in some clean clothes, and rest.
In that order.
He walked back to his office and set the glass on the desk so he remembered to wash it, then grabbed his spare clothes and walked to the back to his private shower.
Inside, he let the heat relax his muscles. The showerhead had several pressure options. Today, he chose massage. Tilting his head forward so the water could hit his lower neck and spine, he felt tingles.
It was almost euphoric. He leaned into the water pressure and felt a smile tickle the corners of his mouth.
He spent so much time soaking, he felt the temperature change. Grabbing the soap, he lathered, washed, rinsed, and decided against shaving the bristles from the past day.
Dried, dressed, and with his teeth cleaned, he went back to his office to lie on the black leather couch, hands on his stomach as he settled down.
As a Silk Demon, he could never fall asleep on his own. But the microscopic thorns in his hands gave him the ability to live instead of dying from mental fatigue. It just took some work.
Letting the cool leather relax him, he closed his eyes and imagined himself on the couch as the walls turned into hundreds of thousands of tube ends. Each tube linked him to a person who belonged to him that was currently sleeping.
In his dream, he picked a tube on the far side of the wall. The tether didn’t have a name or a picture on it, but even without that, he knew who it belonged to.
Riam.
He held out his hand and called to Riam’s sleep. Little puffs of white, gold, and grey floated in the air and gradually seeped into his outstretched palm. Little by little, the sleep saturated his body. It was an odd sensation. He felt light, and yet, at the same time, the lightness became heavy when it entered him. Filling with sweet sleep, the office darkened around the edges, closing in fast. His arm fell, and that was the last thing he remembered before he slipped into a deep slumber.
8
What the Hell
Zane woke up on his couch, rested, thirsty, and hungry. He sat up and twisted his torso, letting his joints pop and stretching his muscles. He grabbed a water bottle from the refrigerator in the small kitchen and walked out to the front of the warehouse, intending to head out to breakfast. For some reason, he was hungrier than usual.
That was until he saw a body slumped against the tinted glas
s of his front door. A glance at the hair, clothes, and body size, and he knew it was Adelia.
Surprise didn’t cover what he was feeling. His feet propelled him forward, and his eyes focused on her slumped form. He imagined the worst.
Once at the front, he pushed open the black glass door and crouched next to Adelia’s bloody face.
He touched her neck, hoping for a pulse. Her skin was warm, thank Seth. But just then, her yellowish eyes shot open, and she jumped away from him, crying out.
“Hey, hey, hey. It’s me. Z. I’m not going to hurt you.” He looked around. The sky was light, but the star hadn’t crested the horizon yet. It was early, very early. She must have left four or so hours ago.
Several questions popped into his mind. Like how long had she been lying there? Who had hurt her? And, of course, how did she get to his office door? Was it a message from someone?
Her face pinched, and her breathing turned shallow. She needed the healing container. “Let me help you up.” Moving his hand behind her to lift her, she pushed him back.
“No. Don’t touch. I came to buy cinder oil. How much for another glass?”
She needed more than cinder oil. Now that Z looked closer, her hands were cut up, too. She had been fighting. Whoever she’d fought hadn’t crushed her skull or ripped her clothes off. Which meant she hadn’t been attacked by street thugs.
Trent would be healed by now. She could use the container.
Ignoring her cries, Z swept her into his arms and lifted her to walk into his warehouse.
Holding her small frame close to his chest, he kept hushing her and letting her know that he wasn’t going to hurt her. He didn’t know the specifics of what had happened to her, but he knew that she had been abused. Her natural defenses would have made her fight.
Whatever had happened, it must have been bad. She currently repeated the same word over and over. “No.”
Her eyes were closed, which was probably good, considering how puffy they were.
Following the hallway to the back of the warehouse, he put her down next to the container, then grabbed some rope and opened the door, needing to remove the healing device’s current occupant.
Trent was awake and tried to dodge him, but Zane was in no mood. He used the end of the rope to whip the side of the traitor’s face before launching himself at the male’s center mass.
Z wrapped the rope around Trent’s wrists and secured his ankles before pulling him out—face down so it would hurt. Then he grabbed Adelia, being extra careful not to jostle her, and put her in the healing device.
Once the door was shut, he moved to the side with the clear glass and waited for the healing to take place, for the swelling in her face to reduce, and all injuries to disappear.
“Who’s the nipsy?” Trent asked from the floor.
Zane didn’t respond. Trent had no right to ask anything.
“You get a little rough? I know you’re into that kind of thing. Didn’t know you liked it that rough, though.”
Zane didn’t like it that rough. Trent knew a lot of about him, and it pissed Z off how much he’d let the male into his personal life. They spent so much time together, they knew each other’s taste in females, eating habits, and life preferences. Trent had been the only other person in his life that Zane trusted other than Shine.
“She must be special if you’re willing to heal her. Unless you think she’s working for me.” Those were the only two reasons a total stranger would be attacked on Lotus Adaamas. A sadistic Demon looking to get off, or someone knew she’d had the homner and came looking for it. Which meant someone had followed her and waited until she’d left Z’s office.
Z decided right then that he was going to find out who it was and punish them for hurting her. If they’d watched her leave his office, then they should have known she was one of his clients at the very least. Which should have given her a level of protection. It obviously hadn’t, and he took exception to that.
9
Whole
Adelia woke up in a large container. Lights blinked, and her body felt as if someone were trying to whisk her blood. She felt lightheaded and airy. Her arm was numb and tingling when she raised it to look at it. Then it flopped down onto her face.
Adelia heard a hard knock to her right. She turned and saw Z standing outside the container she was in. His Terran face was stern. It reminded her of her brother when he lectured her.
Too bad Rannn wasn’t around. She would have told him about fighting the nasty Roth who had been following her. He would have been proud.
Z knocked again when he lost her attention. This time, he pointed to his arm and then to the floor.
“Um…I do not understand what you’re saying,” she told him.
He opened his mouth and spoke, but she couldn’t hear him.
“Again…I can’t hear you.”
He started pointing and… She stopped watching so she could concentrate on pushing herself up. Two tries and she finally succeeded. Moving to her hands and knees, she waited for her vision to clear from the blood rush.
She took a deep breath and pushed herself up, using her knees to aid in her momentum. Her vision wobbled again, and her feet felt numb. If she took a step, she would likely fall. She stood, arms out, balancing as best she could.
“Deep breaths. You can do this,” Adelia told herself.
Bending over, she checked herself over. Her knuckles were healed, her stomach felt better, and breathing no longer hurt.
She took one tentative step to the door of the container. Her feet were good, legs strong. She felt good. Better than good, actually. Yet she felt…odd.
At the door, she looked for a handle but didn’t find one. She turned to find Z looking at her. She pointed at the door and said, “Let me out of here.”
He hesitated, but eventually walked over and opened it. As soon as he did, she felt the hot Lotus Adaamas air again.
Z stepped back, letting her walk by. As she did, she heard him sniff the air.
“What?” she snapped, knowing she probably smelled from being in dirty clothes and from walking from the hotel to his warehouse.
His expression was strange, unsure. “How do you feel?”
“Good.”
Something moved in her periphery. Gazing over, she saw the man she had thought was dead the day before, tied up on the floor. Z hadn’t killed him. He had been telling the truth, which meant that the container she had been in must have healed her.
That was amazing. She hadn’t known things like that existed. “You were telling the truth,” she quietly mumbled.
“I heard that, Pet. And I’m insulted.”
Despite herself, she looked back at him and smiled widely. “No, you’re not.”
His eyes darkened as they lingered on her. He moved closer, and her smile faltered.
What is he thinking?
She held her breath, knowing she couldn’t kiss him, but at the same time hoping he would kiss her.
When he didn’t close the gap, she assumed that he remembered her saliva. The pause allowed her to regain her senses. She’d come to buy cinder oil and interview with him. Now was not the time for fantasies.
Z took in a deep breath, his chest rising as he did. “You smell amazing. Better than yesterday.” He took a step forward, touched the side of her hair, and inhaled again, letting his eyes close for a moment.
Her stomach shot up to her throat.
Why the hell was he smelling her hair? Maybe he needed to step inside the healing container.
“I could fall asleep to this scent.”
Yep, he was clearly wrong in the head. Figured. “Okay…well, that’s interesting, but I came here to talk to you about that job interview.”
He cleared his throat, and she saw the lust melt away. The look was replaced by a sly grin and a teasing tone. “You should bottle your scent, Pet. We could put it in a fancy container, label it Delirium, and I could sell it for you. I’d give you seven percent profits.”
> She wasn’t doing well transitioning from his sweet words to his business strategy, but she tried to keep up. If she were going to work for him, she had to prove that she had what it took to get the job done—the one that would require her to spend long hours with him.
“I don’t think I can bottle my scent. But even if I could, seven percent is a joke.”
“Fine, six percent, but only because you talked me into it.”
“You’re not right in the head, are you?” Seriously, how did the crazy male do business?
Z pulled her head in and hugged her. “Pet, to be the best, you can’t be normal.”
Her world tilted as he held her to his chest. She hesitated, then wrapped her hand around his torso to stay steady. “But to be effective, you have to think clearly.”
Z walked her out of the warehouse still tucked against him. It was uncomfortable, but something about it also felt normal. Or maybe Z’s unpredictability made the awkwardness less so.
“I think I drank out of the wrong glass. I could taste your pim. By the way, I’m starving. Let’s go eat breakfast.” Z rambled.
She pushed back. “I need a shower and some fresh clothes first. I can’t go out in public like this.”
Z looked her over. “No, you’re perfect.” Then he sniffed her again.
She waved her hand to stop him from smelling her. “Seriously, I’m not going unless I shower.”
“My stomach is going to eat itself. But, fine, let’s make this all about you.” He took her wrist and pulled her back in and towards the office. “I’ve got a shower, and I can get you clothes while you clean up.” He didn’t let go when he turned the corner and led her down the hallway. “But try not to fall in love with my shower.”
Adelia was starting to see a trend when it came to Z. He was playful, serious, and lusty all at once. Maybe it was a morning thing.