“I didn’t ask for anything like this,” she whispered. “All I wanted was a little adventure.”
“I know, baby. Your crime is only one of association.”
She gazed at him through her tears. His face weaved in and out of focus. “How are you so sure?”
“If you were a drug runner,” he said calmly, “Eyani wouldn’t have placed you under his protection without receiving something valuable in return. He could easily have turned around and sold the Gr’iis for a hefty profit to line his pockets with. You see, the Ashtaris rarely put themselves in the face of danger for someone other than a blood relation.”
“They don’t?” The Ashtari had seemed so benevolent she had assumed he would have put anyone who was in distress under his protective shield.
“He is a man of great kindness,” Harley supplied.
“You don’t often find aliens like him. I wonder if all his people are like that.”
“Believe it or not, they used to be much friendlier until drugs were introduced to their planet by smugglers. The Ashtaris’ physiology doesn’t allow them to use drugs. Unfortunately, many died before they found out their bodies couldn’t handle the stuff. Now the Ashtaris prohibit the importing of any kind of drug onto their planet, or even dealing with it.” He surveyed the corridor in one direction, then the other. “We’ve got to get moving.”
The man had a certain ease about him, even in such a dire situation, Odessa thought. He was charming, and most of all, convincing—in an ice-cold way. What did she have to lose if she went along with him? Nothing but her life, she decided obliquely.
The corridors began to swarm with confused residents and travellers. Soldiers seemed to be everywhere she looked, standing by themselves, trying to appear harmless, or in small groups. They carried guns tucked into the belts of their bland, grey uniforms.
“That’s so as not to scare the population,” Harley whispered in her ear. “If the soldiers massed together, word would spread that Romaydia isn’t user friendly to the people and aliens who land here. Pardua can’t afford that. It messes with his ‘good Lord’ image. I wonder if we wouldn’t be better off if we were each get one of those helmets and slow down our pace so we blend in better.”
Thankfully Harley slowed down. Odessa was determined she wouldn’t wear a helmet. “You’re trying to think where we could get a pair.”
“Did you marry an Ashtari?”
“I never met one before I got here. Why?”
“You read my mind.”
“It wasn’t hard to guess.” Sheer, black fright swept through her. She couldn’t, wouldn’t have the helmet on her head. She felt a wave of apprehension travel up and down her spine.
“I want you to go over to the vendors and get yourself something to eat. Don’t do anything suspicious, and try to blend in,” Harley said, handing her a small coin. “This should get you whatever you want. Then wait for me.”
“I thought you wanted to disappear as quickly as possible.”
“I do, but I’m going to get a pair of helmets.”
She felt near naked, as if everyone were keeping an eye on her.
“Don’t bring any attention to yourself. Stay low-profile.”
“What exactly is that?” How could she do that when the whole station seemed to be searching for her?
“Just blend in with the crowd. Like this.” With a carefree attitude, he walked away, leaving her gaping. Seconds later, he disappeared into the milling crowd.
“Okay. I get that,” she muttered. Her stomach rumbled. She could at least get herself some food before she died on this piece of metal junk. The thought did nothing to comfort her.
Odessa ambled over to a vendor’s stall, where the smell of fresh-roasted meat wafted into the air to mingle with garlic and tomatoes from another nearby peddler. The menu above the small space was printed in English, although the currency was foreign to her. “Roast beef sandwich, no mustard,” she said to the vendor when he directed an inquisitive look at her. He nodded and turned his back on her. She doubted the meat was actually beef, but she was hungry enough to eat almost anything. The vendor cradled his arm around a slab of roasted meat and carved several thin slices.
“Are you safe?” asked a gentle female voice from beside her elbow.
Odessa swivelled to look straight into Violette’s haggard face. “Yes,” she replied, trying to appear as inconspicuous as possible.
“Is he taking care of you? This Harley?”
The vendor handed the sandwich to Odessa in return for the coin Harley had given her, and made a disgusted face at Violette. “Go somewhere else and ply your trade,” he growled.
“I’ll go away if you give me a job,” Violette said with a hint of amusement.
Odessa bit into her sandwich and took a look around for Harley, who was nowhere in sight.
“I wouldn’t give you a job if my life depended on it, whore.” The vendor turned away and busied himself with a cleaning rag.
“It’s men like you who don’t give us a chance,” Violette retorted. She straightened her shoulders, making Odessa fear the other woman’s breasts would spill out of her scanty bodice. Violette shrugged. “If men like him would give us jobs, we wouldn’t be in the predicament we’re in. We could make ourselves respectable.”
Odessa’s mouth was full, so she didn’t reply. The vendor obviously didn’t care. She couldn’t imagine a life of penury and misery, catering to men and their wishes in bed. But was she that far away from being in that position herself?
“Unfortunately, the Murrach isn’t into equal opportunity employment.”
Odessa wished Harley would hurry as she bit into the tasty sandwich. She savoured the meat and fresh white bread. For all she knew, it could be the last meal she ever ate. Feeling pity for her unwanted companion, she broke the sandwich in half and offered it to Violette, who took it with a grateful look and a murmured, ‘Thanks.’
“Harley’s life is in danger. That means, by default, yours is too. Come with me. I will make sure you are safe with one of my clients. He’ll spirit you away to safety.”
“And make me his mistress or something, right?” Odessa asked, her mouth full. She didn’t regret sharing her meal with Violette, but wished she’d moved on.
Violette sidled closer. “I thought your chances of getting off the station with Harley were better than if you struggled alone. But word has it that the Murrach is shutting down the station and hunting down all he believes are traitors, under the guise of a virus threatening the station. Harley is on that list. So are you.”
“Traitors could very easily be perceived as a virus. But let me get this straight,” Odessa said, wiping her hands on her pants for lack of a paper napkin. Her stomach rebelled, threatening to discharge its contents. Her temper flared. “You’re telling me that the great Lord of Romaydia is hunting us down, that my chances with Harley are pretty slim, but they’d be better if I entrusted myself to a man who you handpicked for me?”
“Honey, not all men are as they appear. There are some who have no interest in women at all, not the way you’re thinking.”
“Right.” Odessa searched again for Harley. He sure was taking his time. “And you’d be familiar with one of them?”
Violette’s eyes glistened with unshed tears. “I’m trying to help you, since Harley obviously can’t.”
“What makes you think he can’t?”
“Why are you still here?”
Violette did have a point.
“Lord Pardua is out to get Harley, but no one’s yet clear on why, since he’s the Murrach’s most trusted right-hand man. It doesn’t make any sense. No one has won against the Murrach, or escaped his wrath. Ever.”
Odessa sighed and blinked back tears. “There’s always a first time.” Over the woman’s shoulder, she made out Harley waving to her inconspicuously and pointing at a narrow corridor, twenty feet to her right. He wanted her to slip away as quietly as she could.
Her short conversation with V
iolette had made her realise she trusted him, to some extent. He hadn’t lied to her, even though she had awakened to find his hands on her stomach earlier. But what had he been looking for?
The answer blindsided her. She had been wounded. She had fainted. Had he been searching for the bullet hole? Why hadn’t she found one? Had he healed her without her knowledge? She struggled to focus on the conversation with Violette. “I don’t believe that. My chances are better with him than with anyone you would choose. Whether he likes to have sex with a female or not is irrelevant.” What was she going to do to divert the woman’s attention?
A soldier observed Violette with greedy eyes. That gave Odessa an idea. “He’s looking for you,” she said, pointing in the soldier’s direction.
Violette turned her head. Odessa took off at a long sprint, hoping the constantly circulating people and aliens in the crowd covered her movements from the soldiers. She ducked into the corridor, where Harley waited with a helmet in each hand.
“Put this on,” he ordered, shoving the shiny object into her hand and straightening the chinstrap at the same time. “Just be sure not to turn the sound or the videograph on.”
“Don’t they come in any other colour?” she complained.
“Black is the in colour this year,” he retorted sharply. “If you prefer pink, you’re out of luck.”
She knew he was teasing. “Black isn’t my colour. Where did you get these?” she asked, almost regretting her question as she asked.
“Let’s just say I borrowed them.”
“Uh-huh. Sure you did.” Odessa didn’t like the sound of that, but she loved the sight of his seductively sensuous lips close to hers. How she wished she could plant her mouth on his and kiss him until the world turned right again. If such a thing were possible.
“I knocked a couple of guys on the head. They didn’t seem to notice,” he elaborated. His eyes twinkled with amusement, and the tiniest curve to his lips appeared. All she wanted was his kiss as he lay on top of her, while she rested against luxurious satin sheets.
“Odessa?” she heard him say. She blinked several times before forcing her mind back to the task at hand. It didn’t do any good to dwell on the man’s maddeningly tempting appearance. Frustrated with herself, thinking she had to concentrate on staying alive more than she did on getting him into bed, she slammed the helmet on her head and adjusted the strap to fit snugly under her chin.
“Can you hear me?” She heard his muffled voice. She nodded.
He already had his helmet on, and had finished tightening the strap when he lowered his head and kissed her on her mouth—a chaste, good luck kiss. She was so dazed she didn’t have a chance to react before he stepped back and took hold of her elbow. “Don’t walk terribly fast, and try to lose focus so your eyes look glazed over. Then we have a better chance of evading Pardua and his men.”
“Everything comes with a price,” she drawled, still dazed by his moist lips covering hers, if only for a brief second. Okay, one out of three wasn’t too bad. He had kissed her, even if she wasn’t resting on satin sheets with his weight lowered along the length of her thrumming body.
“Anything to stay alive,” came the hushed response.
She kept her eyes down, watching for the turns Harley made in front of her so she didn’t miss them. As far as she could tell, no one paid them any attention, not even the soldiers meandering through the crowd.
She breathed a small sigh of relief at having satisfied her stomach. Her light-headedness had vanished, replaced by a burgeoning sense of adventure. She was determined to get away from Romaydia. And in one piece. Humming softly to herself, she almost missed the fact Harley had stopped and raised his hand to a door which had a black number engraved into it.
He knocked. Holding her breath and glancing behind her in the direction they had come from, she saw no one suspicious or who appeared to be pursuing them.
Muttering, “I can’t wait any longer,” he fished in his pocket of his leather pants and retrieved a small credit coin, inserting it in the place where a lock should have been. Silently, the door opened to Eyani's room.
Making a shushing motion to silence her, he drew a gun from inside his jacket. He’d certainly come well prepared. Her heart hammered in her chest. Something had to be wrong, since Eyani hadn’t come to the door and flung it open.
Harley aimed his gun to the right. He nudged her out of the way and against the wall before he stormed into the room.
Silence echoed painfully.
“Stay here.”
Odessa heard the anxiety in his gruff voice. Disregarding his instructions, she followed him. At the sight that confronted them, she gasped and slapped a hand over mouth, trying not to vomit as she quickly looked away.
Eyani lay sprawled on the floor. Half his head was gone, splashed in a grotesque collage of blood and gore over the side of the single bed.
Violette had known Odessa wanted to distract her. She was terrified for the young woman. With the station closed down and her keeping company with Harley, the chances she would live till morning were almost zero. She caught the pair hurrying away. They were still so right for each other.
She had confronted Odessa as she’d eaten her sandwich, to ascertain whether the woman felt she was making the right choice for herself. So many females had that taken away from them once they arrived on Romaydia. Violette stood back in the shadows. The noise in the public area had increased to a painful level.
A plan had begun to form in her mind. It was risky, but it might work. As Harley and Odessa struggled to evade Pardua’s long hand, she would approach Pardua. Simply as a diversionary tactic. Nothing else. She would find Zorm and ask for his help. He was daring and young, and would welcome the opportunity to put a crimp into the Murrach’s orderly day.
The plan had holes as large as an interstellar spaceship in it, but she was determined she wouldn’t let the Murrach get away with murder again. Not this time.
Chapter Fifteen
“I don’t want to linger here any more than I have to,” Harley said.
Odessa watched as he checked the Ashtari’s wrist for a pulse.
“Nothing,” he said gruffly.
Odessa watched him search the room quietly and efficiently, pulling out drawers and rummaging through the small bathroom area. He grunted once before he said, so softly she barely heard him, “He won’t be creating an invisible shield or reading minds anymore.” He shook his head, and his shoulders drooped as if they bore the weight of the Romaydian station on them.
Odessa repressed a sniffle. The Ashtari had been genuinely kind when no one else had cared. She dared not look at the dead alien again, preferring to remember him as he had been when he was alive. Why would anyone want to kill such a harmless man?
Harley passed a hand over his brow and dislodged his helmet. They stood shoulder to shoulder. “We have to find another way to get off Romaydia.”
Slowly, Odessa removed her helmet. She couldn’t hide the tears streaming down her cheeks.
Harley held her tightly against his chest. “I wouldn’t have wished something evil on the poor Ashtari,” he whispered, “but we have to get out of here in case Pardua comes looking.”
“Where are we going to go?”
Gently, he smoothed her hair at the back of her head as he glanced around at the walls, as if he was searching for something. “Not here,” he whispered. “Let’s go.”
She clung to him, unwilling to release him and the comfort the close contact gave her. When had she started to feel he could give her solace?
She tucked her head under his chin, feeling the tiny bristles of his unshaven face on her scalp. “Don’t let me go,” she murmured. “I’m afraid.”
“I am, too,” he confessed.
Three months ago, she would have been appalled to think she could have said such a thing. Now, she had no alternative but to lean on him for survival. The thought rankled for a second before she huffed a miniature sigh. She didn’t have much choi
ce, especially after having witnessed Eyani’s battered body. She had to trust Harley. He wouldn’t place her in jeopardy with a ‘client’, as Violette had put it. There were no other options if she wanted to get off Romaydia alive.
Harley’s thoughts spun. Somehow, there had always been a way out. Until Abby—and now Odessa. “I know of some understation tunnels where we can hide in safety until I find a way out of this mess. It’s not my first choice, since it’s hot and humid and if Pardua looks hard enough, he’ll find us. We can always stay one step ahead of him, though. Let’s go. There’s no telling if the perps who did this will return.”
She lifted her head and gazed into his eyes, her cheeks filmed with tears. His protective urges overwhelmed him. Even if it meant giving up his own life, he would save Odessa.
“Perps?” she asked, her lips curling at the edges in a saddened smile. She traced a finger down his cheek. “I thought only the FBI said that.”
“I watch a lot of videographs,” he said hastily, covering his tracks. He didn’t want her to know who he was. How had she become involved in Roland Baylon’s affairs?
He took her hand and silently urged her to put the black helmet back on.
She shuddered. “I can’t put this on again.” Her voice broke on a whimper.
“I don’t like wearing it either, but we don’t have much choice.” Reluctantly, he admitted to himself there was no secure place on Romaydia. He’d spent the last year sleeping with a gun tucked under his pillow to give him a semblance of safety, but it was no longer an assurance. He jammed his helmet on his head, hating the trapped feeling it gave him. He took small consolation that if someone fired at him, they couldn’t kill him by shooting his brains out like they had the poor Ashtari’s.
Grimacing, Odessa placed the helmet over her head. Once again, they strolled at a leisurely pace through the public area, trying to appear as inconspicuous as possible. No one stopped them. Harley didn’t dare look over his shoulder to see if anyone was following. A drug-crazed idiot would never do that. The action would have given away his disguise.
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