Taking one last cautious look around, she hauled open the door as quietly as possible and slipped inside. The darkness that greeted her within the cellar was eerily silent as she descended the stone staircase, her breathing and soft footsteps the only sounds to be heard.
As she made her way down, she began to see the outline of a large cage taking up most of the cellar’s limited space, its bars running from floor to ceiling. At the sight, Finn fought back a wave of foreboding.
Reaching the bottom, she approached it with caution. Surprise furrowed Finn’s brow. For all her expectations, she certainly wasn’t prepared for the sight that greeted her, or for the very female body lying prone on the cage’s floor.
The half-Sirian lay on her stomach next to a pool of what Finn assumed was her own vomit. Given her position facedown on the ground, it was hard to see much of her, other than the unique cascade of thick caramel, blonde, and red waves of hair shrouding her face from sight.
Worried now for the female’s condition, Finn ran the ID chip over the scanner mounted to the cage’s door and, as soon as it unlocked, pulled the heavy bars open with as much silent haste as she could manage. She moved with quiet steps, anxious to make sure the female still breathed. Finn’s hands made it to within an inch of her before the sounds of clanking at the Sirian’s feet froze her on the spot.
Suddenly, the much taller and more muscular hybrid was up and in her space. The female’s surprisingly strong forearm pushed into Finn’s neck, pinning her against the wall. A pair of clear, tawny eyes filled with hatred looked into hers.
“Come to gawk and look your fill?”
The lilt in her throaty voice was certainly a surprise, but Finn’s eyes couldn’t help but remain focused on the rows of tiny, pointed fangs filling the female’s mouth. She could almost have passed for a human were it not for those razor-sharp incisors.
Finn realized, belatedly and with no small amount of surprise, that the Sirian was quite pretty . . . especially with that long multicolored hair.
A layer of short, tan fur covered her lean body and face, but she lacked the characteristic pointed ears, long snout, and bushy tail one might see on a full-blooded Sirian.
Now that she’d stood, Finn had a clear, unabashed view of her curves; the ragged shirt and shorts she wore barely doing the job of covering her body. She tracked the direction of Finn’s gaze and her eyes narrowed in calculation. With a stare exempt of shame or embarrassment, she moved her free hand up to Finn’s face. Five black claws began to lengthen and grow, only stopping when they made contact with Finn’s pale cheek.
That’s new. She’d never seen a Sirian do that before.
“Or perhaps you’ve come to touch,” the hybrid growled, pulling Finn from her thoughts.
Glancing over to the barred door she’d left open, Finn listened intently for the sound of approaching bootsteps. When only silence greeted her, she turned back to the Sirian. She held the female’s stare as she threw an arm up and over the fur-covered forearm at her neck.
Using the momentum, Finn’s elbow slammed down hard. The Sirian stumbled, lost her footing, and flew backward; her chains tangled around her four-toed feet as she began to fall.
Finn’s gloved hand shot out and caught the falling woman by the arm. Ignoring the Sirian’s ferocious growl, she hauled the large female against the barred cage in a hold almost identical to the one Finn had just been in.
A feral snarl slipped past her full lips, her unsheathed claws grasping Finn’s gloved forearm hard enough to draw blood. Her glinting eyes watched closely for signs of pain, but Finn kept her face neutral, despite the burning and the growing bloodstain on her sleeve.
Finn forced a grim smile through the pain. “Actually, I’m here to rescue you.”
She saw surprise flash in the yellow depths of the hybrid’s eyes—far too intelligent for any regular Sirian—before they hardened once again with anger.
“You’re strong, but it won’t save you.” She peeled back her lips in a horrifying mockery of a smile. “I am a champion . . . the greatest N’Goza in my tribe. Were I not reduced to this”—she snapped her jaws so close to Finn’s face, it was an effort not to flinch—“I would bring this manor and everyone in it to their knees.”
Her powerful body began to thrash, but Finn didn’t ease the pressure. Instead, she removed the ID chip from her pocket and held it up for the Sirian to see.
“I’m going to hold you to that. At the rate we’re going, the whole manor should be down here shortly.” Narrowed eyes snapped to Finn’s, something like hope warring with the pain and fury in them. Finn met her stare unflinchingly. “I meant what I said. I’m here to rescue you, but the longer you fight me, the more you risk our chances of getting caught.”
She took the female’s silence as a positive sign she wouldn’t lose a finger or some other valuable extremity to those claws and fangs. Finn released the pressure against her neck and knelt before the Sirian, examining the chains around her ankles. The skin beneath looked raw and ragged, and Finn sucked in a breath at the familiar sight.
“If you don’t have the stomach for something so trivial,” the hybrid mused, “I can’t wait to see how you intend to pull off this rescue attempt.”
Biting back a growl of her own, Finn glared at the Sirian and mumbled under her breath.
“I should’ve rescued the other hybrid, I’m sure he would’ve been more gracious.”
The Sirian’s body stilled and the air around her pulsed with looming danger.
“What other hybrid?”
Finn reached into the holster at her ankle and removed a small, handheld plasma gun courtesy of the Mud Pit’s black market.
“We don’t have time for this,” Finn murmured. “Once I get you out of here, we can talk all about the other hybrids being held prisoner. Right now, we need to get to the pod I have waiting to take you far away from here. Now, hold still.”
The Sirian’s eyes widened and then narrowed into frightening slits. With steady hands, Finn aimed the plasma gun and burned through the locks at the hybrid’s feet. They released and fell to the floor with a loud clank.
When the Sirian remained motionless, Finn looked up to find her staring, her face devoid of the bitter rage that had filled it moments before.
It made her look painfully young.
When she finally spoke, her voice was hoarse.
“You really intend to free me?”
Finn rolled her eyes and stood up.
“That’s what I’ve been saying, isn’t it?”
“Even though I could very well kill you as soon as the chains are removed?”
Finn smiled wide and gave the plasma gun a pointed look.
“You can give it your best shot, but I think I can take you.”
Her claws lengthened once again—a full inch this time—but not before Finn caught the smile in her unique eyes.
She set to work on the wrists, keeping up a steady dialogue as she did in a bid to distract the female.
“So, what should I call you?”
“Are we to make small talk then, N’Goza?”
N’Goza? There was that strange word again. Finn shot her a confused shrug.
“Sorry, my Sirian’s a little rusty.”
The hybrid had the audacity to click her tongue in vexation.
“I suppose the closest translation to your tongue would be warrior.”
Finn presumed she should be flattered, but it didn’t stop her from rolling her eyes.
The chains around the Sirian’s wrists came crashing to the ground and Finn heard a sigh of relief the female couldn’t quite hide. Finn holstered the plasma gun and pulled the cloak from where she’d tucked it into her belt. She moved to wrap it around the hybrid, but before she got close, the Sirian hissed and crouched into a defensive position against the wall. Finn eyed her carefully, showing her with slow, deliberate movements what she intended to do. The Sirian continued to glare but didn’t shrink away. Once covered, she wrapped her arms
around herself and huffed.
“My name is Enyo.”
“How old are you, Enyo?”
“I was fourteen when they took me from my home. I have no way of telling time here. I used to carve marks in the walls, but I stopped long ago.”
She looked to be about nineteen or twenty, but the hardness in her eyes made her seem older. Finn motioned with both hands for her to pull the hood of the cloak up and over her head. She did, and Finn found her willingness to cooperate both surprising and pleasing. The cloak covered her from scalp to feet, shadowing her face and most of that unique mane of alternating shades.
“Are you ready to get out of here?” she asked Enyo with a wink.
The woman bared her fangs and nodded.
“If you want to make it out of here alive, I need you to follow me and do everything I say,” Finn told her with authority.
Enyo’s eyes burned with rage at the command, but she didn’t object. It would seem this Sirian was the type of warrior who didn’t enjoy taking orders but could do so when necessary.
Thank the Gods for that.
Finn took the lead, creeping through the barred doors of the stone cell. Enyo followed, equally silent, and Finn smiled to herself, already impressed with the female’s stealth. They moved in time together, their silent steps mirroring each other until they reached the top of the stairs.
Lifting her shirt, Finn pulled out a compact, short-handled blade from where she’d strapped it to her stomach. Enyo raised a multihued brow, but didn’t comment, her claws elongating even farther until each hand became like its own set of black-tipped blades.
Finn wondered at the Sirian’s strange control over her claws; it must have been a uniquely hybrid perk. Finn raised a finger to her lips, giving Enyo the signal to remain silent, and proceeded to open the door a fraction at a time. She stuck her head out and peeked around. Once she saw the coast was clear, she motioned for Enyo to follow.
They crept together through the kitchen, slowly making their way to the exit. She sensed the moment Enyo’s steps slowed and turned back to find her staring in awe at the opulence of Jessup’s manor, from gold-dusted countertops, tile, doorframes, and crystal chandeliers, to red satin drapes adorning the windows. Fury sparked in her eyes once again. Finn’s stomach dropped, and she moved to get into Enyo’s space, her nose barely reaching the Sirian’s chin.
“You don’t like what you see? You want to do something about it?” Enyo’s tawny eyes shot fire down at Finn as she continued to speak. “The only way you’re going make that happen is if we get the hell out of here.”
The hybrid inhaled a deep breath, her eyes small slits and her jaw clenched, but she gave a tight nod. Finn figured it was the most acknowledgement she was going to get. Suppressing a relieved sigh, she turned her back on the Sirian and directed her to the servant’s entrance leading outside.
They’d just made it past the second set of motion sensors—albeit much more slowly with the Sirian in tow—taking as much time as their racing heartbeats would allow so Enyo could mirror Finn’s movements, when a voice stopped them in their tracks.
“You there. What do you two think you’re doing?”
Finn turned, stepping in front of Enyo as a beam of light emanating from the comm device around the wrist of a patrolling Reliance soldier washed over them. Fortunately, he was far enough away that he missed Enyo’s hiss of aggression, but he was closing in fast. Finn slipped the knife up her sleeve and threw her hand over her eyes to stem the brightness.
“My sister is sick, sir,” she called to the soldier, distress lacing her tone. “She needs a doctor.”
The soldier’s steps slowed, most likely worried about exposing himself to whatever disease her “sister” was carrying. His arm moved and it looked like he might be reaching for his comm. It was hard to tell with the light hitting her square in the face, but she couldn’t risk him calling more soldiers to their location. Letting the knife drop into her hand, Finn pulled back with her wrist and released, watching as the blade sailed across the distance and sank into the soldier’s comm device.
She moved to run at him but froze, shocked as Enyo loped on all fours straight for the man, her movements faster than Finn could track. She’d removed her cloak, her long hair in all its shades now in full view. The soldier seemed transfixed, wide-eyed as he watched her lithe body make its way toward him with the smooth, precise movements of a predator.
When she reached him, there was a blur of movement, and then Enyo was on top of him, those deadly knifelike claws slashing into his throat and chest with a sickening gurgle. The man didn’t even have time to scream.
Claws receded and finished with her kill, Enyo strolled back to Finn’s side, wiping the blood and gore from her hands and body with the discarded cloak.
“Are we leaving, N’Goza?” she asked, as though they were discussing the weather.
Finn finally snapped out of her stupor enough to fume, “What was that? We don’t kill people unless we have to.”
The Sirian had the temerity to laugh.
“I do.”
Finn did her best to ignore the fingertips still partially caked in the soldier’s blood. Her eyes narrowed on Enyo and she took a threatening step forward.
“Not anymore. You’re part of my crew now. We do things my way, and my way is . . . we don’t kill people unless absolutely necessary.”
Enyo regarded her impassively for a moment before responding.
“Did you truly expect to secure our freedom without a few meager fatalities?”
Lights went on around the first floor, the activity making Finn’s skin prickle.
“We don’t have time to argue about it. If you’re coming with me, you need to promise me you will exercise a little control and you will follow my rules. Understood?”
A war waged behind the Sirian’s eyes. After a beat, she seemed to come to a decision. “Get me out of here and I will not kill anyone until we’ve had a chance to speak on this further.”
Finn puffed out a groan at the carefully placed emphasis and all it implied, imagining Enyo leaving a slew of maimed and moaning soldiers in her wake. Finally, she gave the Sirian a sharp nod. She figured a win was win, even if it was only half of one.
THREE
Once they’d sprinted the two kilometers to the rendezvous point, Finn all but shoved Enyo into the awaiting luxury pod. Nova, a Mud Pit doxie before she chose to join Finn on her mission, sat behind the controls, her back to them as one scarred, bony leg dangled over the side of a flight chair and she gnawed on a hunk of fresh bread. Without even bothering to turn around, she tossed the veiled hat from her head to the ground and called, “Can I change yet? These clothes are itchy.”
Finn had forced her to wear the ostentatious hat with a veil and a long-sleeved garnet dress with a tulle hoop skirt and high collar, just in case any wandering soldiers decided to have a look inside and question her. The doxie had squawked like an Inner Rings meadow bird when she put them on, much more at home in something a little less constraining.
“Not yet,” Finn called. “Did we have any visitors?”
“Nope, I was actually starting to get lonely.” Nova finally turned, her cheeks filled with the bite she’d just taken. She nearly choked when her wide eyes caught sight of Enyo. “Holy Gods,” she whispered.
Finn shot a warning glare at Nova and the crumbs falling from her mouth in a cascade, but she was too busy gawking at the Sirian to notice. An unholy rumble began to emit from Enyo’s chest at all the attention. Nova’s eyes shot even wider at the sound and she finally looked to Finn, swallowing her bread with a loud gulp.
“Nova, this is Enyo. She’ll be joining our crew.” Finn turned to the Sirian. “Enyo, this is Nova. She’s been instrumental in your rescue, so play nice.”
Enyo examined Nova from top to toe; taking a few extra moments to linger on the doxie’s newly revealed crater pox scars and lanky brown hair, her wary gaze clearly finding the woman wanting.
�
��How was she instrumental in my rescue?”
“She is going to fly us out of here . . . without crashing. Right, Nova?”
Nova blinked at Finn’s question and offered them both a wobbly smile. “I’m getting much better,” she told the Sirian breathlessly. And she was, considering she now only managed to crash into something thirty-five percent of the time as opposed to the whopping eighty-five percent when they’d first purchased the pod. Turning back to Finn, she flashed a smirk. “We’ll get out of here as soon as we settle the small matter of my payment.”
Of course. She’d almost forgotten in all the excitement.
Finn moved from the cockpit to the connecting bedroom within the depths of the designer pod. It was built to make long trips as comfortable as possible for the upper castes and had three rooms connecting to the cockpit as well as two bathrooms. The layout was more like a small ship than a pod, but by Reliance standards, Finn supposed it wasn’t nearly spacious enough to earn that title.
Finn headed for the lockbox she kept inside the false bottom of her dresser and grabbed the key she wore around her neck to unlock it. Pulling out two gold coins from her dwindling stash, she returned and flicked them at Nova. The doxie caught one coin in each hand and shoved them inside the top of her dress.
“All right then, ladies,” Nova exclaimed. “Let’s get out of here.”
Finn felt and ignored the Sirian’s eyes burning meteor-sized holes into the back of her skull. When they broke orbit, Enyo finally interrupted the silence.
“You have to pay your crew for their loyalty?’
Finn snorted and shot the Sirian an amused smirk.
“I was a little short on time and crew.” She turned fully and her smirk became a hard stare. “I kind of had to put things together in a pinch. See, I had this Sirian hybrid I was trying to rescue from a life of imprisonment.”
Something flashed in Enyo’s eyes and her shoulders sagged infinitesimally.
“You have granted me my freedom and for that I am grateful, but I still don’t understand your intentions.”
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