by Roxie Ray
I muttered a Valkredian curse under my breath, feeling like a fool.
I should have known that things with her weren't going to be so easy.
2
Miranda
Run, run, run, get away, anywhere but here, anywhere he can't find me and drag me away again…
Those were the thoughts jabbering through my brain over and over as the soles of my cheap boots smacked against the metal floor of the corridor.
During my time with Nos – and the strange journey that first brought me to this goddamn insane zoo of a place – I hadn't been able to learn much about the bizarre creatures that surrounded me each day… but the ones I knew the most about were these Valkredian monsters, and what I had learned scared the fucking hell out of me.
They were vampires. They came from an entire planet of vampires. And their only interest in humans seemed to be as “blood slaves,” to be locked up and used as food supplies.
I hadn't survived this long on this space station just to let that happen. No fucking way.
As I dashed away from Zark and dodged the arms (and assorted weird appendages) of the other aliens who tried to stop me, I thought about my brief conversation with Carly a while back. She was another human woman who'd been abducted from Earth and sold to Nos, just like I had. She'd arrived on the station far more recently than I had, and she'd been confused and frightened out of her wits. I'd explained the situation to her to the best of my admittedly-limited ability, and had given her some free advice: read the patrons' body language, try to find someone who seems like they wouldn't be too cruel or abusive, and flirt with them until they feel compelled to bid on you at auction.
It had seemed like good advice at the time.
But a few moments later, some Valkredian had just grabbed her, thrown a giant wad of space-cash at Nos, and dragged her away. I hadn't seen her since. For all I knew, she was dead, or in some dungeon having her blood sucked out on a nightly basis. I'd thought about her a lot since then – in fact, those thoughts had kept me up many nights (if I could even call my sleep-cycles “nights,” since being on a space station left me with no concept of how much time had passed, or what time of day it was).
And now the exact same thing had happened to me.
Sure, this Zark guy had acted polite and genteel as soon as he'd gotten me out of The Vein. He'd said all the right things to get me to relax and trust him… but that was the point, wasn't it? He was probably just telling me whatever he thought I wanted to hear, to get me to come to his ship willingly and without any fuss. But for all I knew, once I got there, all bets would be off and I'd be on the menu.
In more ways than one.
And why had he taken me to a place that was so obviously some kind of extraterrestrial whorehouse?
Yeah, sure, a “prince.” I giggled hysterically. Pull the other one and I toot “Jingle Bells.” He's probably just some space-pimp with delusions of grandeur.
Suddenly, Zark swooped down directly in front of me, his feathered black wings outstretched to block my path.
Damn. In my panic, I'd forgotten these Valkredians could fly. Stupid, stupid, stupid.
“I'm not entirely certain what outcome you had in mind,” Zark said. He still sounded friendly, but there was a slightly harder edge to his voice – I could tell I'd annoyed him. “But I can assure you, whatever it was, it wouldn't have worked. You wouldn't have lasted five minutes on this station alone… you'd have been returned to Nos, handed back to me, or stolen away by some derelict trash who'd trade you for a half-charged blaster at the nearest barter post. You're far better off coming with me. So unless you have any other escape plans up your sleeve, I suggest…”
He grabbed my arm firmly, and my head was filled with a terrible pain and buzzing, as though a wasp's nest had broken open inside my skull.
Oh no. Not one of my goddamn visions. Please. Not again.
Ever since I was a small child, I'd sometimes received strange flashes when I touched certain people or things – flashes of voices, images, sensations, plus a horrible feeling of tumbling through a cold, screaming void. Something so vast, so far beyond my comprehension, that it made me genuinely afraid of losing my sanity. As though I'd accidentally put my hand through a patch of reality that was too thin, and came into contact with the infinite.
I'd never told anyone about these incidents. I was too afraid of being branded a lunatic and sent to an institution for the rest of my life. Which probably wouldn't have been too long – members of Earth's lower class who were suspected of mental illness were generally carted off to hideous human warehouses in the middle of nowhere, kept in poor conditions, and neglected until they starved or died of exposure. Only the wealthy could afford places that provided real treatment, and those were usually more like spas than hospitals.
It didn't help that my abilities were so unpredictable. Sometimes they worked, sometimes they didn't. There were plenty of times when I'd even tried to use them consciously, times where they could have helped me, and nothing happened. It was frustrating, and had kept me off-balance for most of my life.
Now a voice boomed and echoed – not just in my ears or my brain, but through every cell of my body. It was an alien language, but I instinctively understood the meaning behind the words:
You will die on the thirteenth rise of the moon.
Had I detected a threat lurking in Zark's thoughts, directed at me? Did he intend to kill me at some point in the future? Even through the confusion and excruciating agony, I dismissed that idea. The language didn't sound like the same one he'd been using with his fellow Valkredians.
So was this a threat someone had made against him?
Yes… I was fairly certain it was.
“What is this? Another trick?” Zark asked. “You feign illness so I'll relax my grip, and then try to run again, is that it?”
“Thirteenth… rise… of the moon,” I mumbled. The words were still clanging in my head so loudly that they drowned out my own thoughts – I couldn't string together a sentence of my own, I could only repeat the deafening phrase.
Zark's dark green eyes widened. “Where did you hear that?” he hissed urgently. “What do you know about it? Answer me! Now!”
Before I could focus enough to respond, though, he looked over my shoulder and bared his fangs. I followed his gaze uneasily.
There were six more Valkredian thugs approaching us, wearing heavy body armor and aiming massive rifles in our direction. “Prince Zark!” one of them called out mockingly. “Torqa has requested the honor of your presence. I suggest you toss your blaster on the floor and come quietly, along with your new female.”
Well, I guess he was telling the truth about being a prince, at least. I rubbed my temples. The pain was starting to dull, replaced with a deep stab of panic. What the hell had I been dragged into the middle of?
“Shit,” Zark spat. “My disguise is still down. Come on, we need to get out of here immediately.”
Before I could respond, he swept me up into his arms, sprinting down the corridor at speeds far beyond what my human legs could have achieved. The momentum made me nauseous, but I figured that still wasn't as bad as whatever horrors those Valkredians had planned for me, just for being with Zark.
Alien faces and glowing storefront signs sped past us in a blur. A second later, laser blasts streaked toward us from behind, leaving smoldering holes in the walls and floor.
I looked around. “Isn't anyone going to stop them from shooting up the station?”
Zark shook his head grimly. “No law here on Cexiea. That's why people go here. Our best hope is for someone to get tagged by accident and start shooting back.”
Sure enough, I heard a Krote and a couple of Drekkir howl at our pursuers angrily and fire at them. Some of the aliens ducked behind walls to get away from the firefight – or grabbed others to use as shields.
“Shouldn't we be returning fire?” I asked.
“I'm a bit busy carrying you and running for our lives,” h
e snapped back. “But if you insist, there's a blaster clipped to my belt. You're welcome to use it, as long as you don't hit me by accident. Or on purpose.”
I was so stunned that it took me a second to react. Was he really going to trust me with a weapon?
Well, one way to find out.
I snatched the blaster out of its holster and leveled it over his shoulder, aiming at the other Valkredians. It was hard to target them when I was being jostled up and down by Zark's hurried steps, but when I squeezed the trigger, I still managed to hit one of them in the arm. He yowled, dropped his gun, and fell back.
“I hit one!” I exclaimed.
“Well done,” Zark answered through gritted teeth. “Five to go.”
I fired off a few more shots, and zapped another Valkredian's leg out from under her. She collapsed, holding her knee and cursing in her native language.
Just as I was preparing to aim at another one, Zark scurried around a sharp corner and set me down on my feet, hurriedly punching a code into a keypad. “Come on, come on, open up,” he muttered darkly. A moment later, a thick metal door swung open – just as the Valkredians rounded the corner, guns at the ready.
I pointed the blaster at them, but my shot went wild. Zark put his hand over mine, aimed, and squeezed the trigger, shooting one in the chest and another in the midsection. Then he darted through the door, pulling me along with him before I could process what had happened. The door rolled back into place just in time to block their returning laser blasts. He shoved me down the narrow passage and through another hatch that was automatically opening for us.
His ship. We were on his ship.
Sparks started to fly around the first door, and I realized that the Valkredians were using some kind of tool to cut through the metal and get to us before takeoff. Zark worked another keypad, cursing and cajoling until it blinked green and the second door closed behind us.
“I'll take that back, thanks,” Zark said, yanking the blaster from my hand and hustling us to the cockpit. I hadn't gotten a good look at the ship through the observation windows of the docking area – I'd been far too busy shooting at the aliens chasing us – but from the inside, it seemed small and cramped, with low ceilings and dim lighting. The temperature was set extremely low, and I found myself shivering.
Of course, part of that might have been because I could hear the metal-cutting tool working on the shuttle door as they tried to get in. Unless it was much thicker than the airlock door had been, we'd have less than a minute before they succeeded.
Zark sat in front of the shuttle's control panel, punching in a series of commands. The ship lurched, there was a sickening grinding sensation underneath us – and we disengaged from the station.
“Just in time,” Zark smirked, pointing out the side window. “Look.”
I peered out and gasped. The Valkredians had still been in the airlock when the ship pulled away… and now they were drifting in space, squirming and clutching their throats as the vacuum swiftly stole their air.
“Neatly done,” I said. “And thanks for trusting me with your gun-thingy. How did you know I wouldn't just shoot you and run off again?”
“Because I asked you not to. Besides, from the first moment I saw you, the look in your eyes told me you're an intelligent and resourceful woman. Sure, you panicked and tried to run… most people in your situation would have. I respect that – had I been in your shoes, I may have run, as well. But I was confident in your understanding that ultimately, you'd be far better off with me than the ones who were chasing us.”
“Huh. You know, I don't mean to be rude, but for a prince, your spaceship seems kind of… unimpressive.”
He laughed heartily. “Go on, you can say it, I won't be offended: This vessel is a steaming pile of excrement! But that was the point when I chose it. It's an unmarked civilian craft, cheap, dented, utterly unremarkable. It had to match my disguise, so I'd appear to be some disaffected Valkredian expat scavenger or other such lowlife. No, my real ship – the one my brother so generously allowed me to borrow for my mission – is right… there.”
He pointed again, ahead of us this time. I looked. For a moment, all I could see was a swirling green nebula – then the shuttle banked sharply, and it came into view.
“Wow,” I breathed.
“‘Wow’ is right,” he agreed, nodding happily. “‘Wow’ sums it up quite nicely.”
The ship was huge, ivory-colored and cone-shaped, with markings etched around its body in a hypnotic, swirling pattern. It looked like a giant fang, floating in space – beautiful, majestic, but with an air of menace clinging to it, as well, as though it might leap forward and bury itself in its prey at any moment.
“What's it called?” I whispered.
“The Angel's Wrath. It's our flagship, the pride of the Valkredian fleet. And if you think the outside is impressive, wait until you see the interior… which, given our current intercept course, should be any moment now.”
As he spoke, the shuttle quickly approached the underside of the larger ship. A pair of doors slid open and we glided through them, touching down in the docking bay.
I moved to get up, but Zark put a hand on my forearm, staring at me intently. I flinched, hoping there wouldn't be any more violent visions – and thankfully, there weren't this time.
“Now that we're out of danger, I believe it's time for you to tell me what you meant before.”
“What do you mean?” I tried my best to sound innocent, but from the look in his eyes, I could tell he wasn't falling for it. “What did I say?”
He sighed. “Earlier, you mentioned ‘the thirteenth rise of the moon.’ That's a rather specific phrase to bandy about, wouldn't you agree? Why did you say it?”
“I… don't remember saying anything like that,” I lied. “But it wouldn't be the first time something like that has happened. Sometimes, I black out, I lose focus, I spout a bunch of meaningless gibberish… it's a condition that runs in my family.” I paused, then added, “A lot of Earth families, actually. Usually, it's best to just ignore it, instead of trying to make any sense of it.”
It was a hell of a gamble – for all I knew, the Valkredians knew everything about Earth, including the fact that no such medical condition actually existed.
Zark stared at me for a long moment, his expression unreadable. It made me extremely uncomfortable. It was like he was trying to see through me somehow. Then I remembered something Nos had said a few times while I was at The Vein. He'd tap the side of his lumpy head and sneer: “You not try anything, yes? Not to run, not to fight! Valkred read minds! Valkred see through your tricks, and then you are punished, eh? Punished bad!”
At the time, I thought he was lying just to frighten us into submission. After all, what did a bunch of humans know about space vampires and their supernatural powers?
But now, from the way Zark was looking at me, I realized it wasn't a lie at all.
The Valkredians could read minds.
And this Valkredian was trying to read mine.
I felt a peculiar flare rise up in my brain – a reflex, like my arms automatically lifting to shield me when someone tried to hit me. Not just that… there was a feeling of collision, as though something had tried to tunnel through my mind and hit a wall instead.
Could it be that I'd somehow blocked his telepathic probe? Did I have that ability?
Zark shook his head slowly, his lips drawn into a thin line. He took a step forward, then another, until he was towering over me ominously. He stared at me for another long moment. “I suppose I'd better show you where you'll be staying, then. Come along.”
3
Zark
As I led her through the Angel's Wrath toward her quarters, my mind raced.
“The thirteenth rise of the moon?” How did she know that phrase? How could she possibly know, unless she knew about the curse? And how in the names of all the Succubi could she have blocked my telepathic probe?
Could it be that she has some psych
ic abilities of her own?
I'd never heard of a human with such powers, but I supposed it could theoretically be possible. By the stars! Centuries of dealing with Earthlings – of visiting their planet, communicating with their leaders, snatching away members of their lower classes as food sources – and our knowledge of their world and its phenomena was still so dreadfully limited. I cursed myself inwardly for not being conversant enough in such things.
Might there be some way to test her? To confirm whether she can do such things?
Well, one way to find out.
I reached out to her with my mind again, this time sending a very specific message: Miranda, can you hear me?
If she did hear, she didn't react. She just kept following me. And yet… had I seen the barest flicker of something in her eyes? Or had I merely imagined it?
Ugh, how damnably frustrating.
Still, there wasn't much I could do about it now. It seemed like the harder I pushed, the more she'd withdraw. No, if I really wanted answers to my questions, I'd need to find some way to gain her trust – to “play the long game,” as the Earthlings liked to say.
Easier said than done, no doubt. But letting her use my blaster during the chase was probably a good start.
“This is where you'll be staying while you're on board,” I said brusquely, opening the door to her room. “The adjoining chamber is the captain's quarters, which I will be using. There's a door which leads directly from one to the other.”
Miranda raised an eyebrow. “From the way you dragged me out of The Vein, I assumed you'd force me to share your cabin.”
“As I said before, I mean you no harm,” I insisted. “Granted, I would be immensely pleased if you did indeed choose to stay in my quarters with me, but…”
“Why?” she asked. “Why would that give you pleasure? You don't even know me.”
“That is true. But I wish to. You see, when I saw you in The Vein… something strange came over me. I've been known to be impulsive a time or two before, but this was nothing like I'd ever experienced before. My desire for you knew no bounds. I could not bear the idea of anyone else bidding on you, purchasing you, perhaps even mistreating you. I needed to bring you with me. To protect you, no matter what. And to campaign for your affections. Most earnestly.”