Drakkal grunted and dropped back onto the couch. He lifted his right hand and dragged his fingers through his mane. “You never obeyed. But it was me who messed up this time.”
“Are you sure she’s your mate?” Arcanthus asked.
Drakkal tipped his head back and turned his unfocused eyes toward the ceiling. He’d felt lust before, had felt attraction, had once even mistakenly thought himself in love…but all of that was nothing compared to what he felt now. This desire, this consuming need, this instant obsession, it was unlike anything he’d ever experienced.
And that scared him.
“Yes,” he said.
“Then you didn’t mess up. You did what you had to.”
Those words were both comforting and unsettling. As head of security for this little operation, Drakkal had been cautious and disciplined for years. This lapse of self-control was uncharacteristic. It was dangerous—not just to him, but to Arcanthus, Samantha, and all the people they worked with and cared about.
“What now, Drak?” Sam asked after several seconds of silence. “You’re going to look for her, right?”
Drakkal’s brow furrowed. Finding his terran in this city would be like searching for a particular speck of dust amidst the vastness of space.
But he had resources—money, a network of informants and contacts, and access to Arcanthus, who was one of the best hackers in Arthos—and tenacity. There’d been a period in his life, before he’d met Arcanthus, when Drakkal had been on the verge of surrender, had been about to give up. That wasn’t him anymore. He’d meant what he’d told his terran.
He lifted his head and stood up as bolstering fire swept through his veins. Whether it had been fate or just blind chance, the universe had put the terran in his path. It was up to him to do the rest, and he wouldn’t let the odds deter him. “Not just going to look. I’m going to find her, no matter where she went.”
Four
Three Weeks Later
The sudden, insistent blare of Shay’s alarm startled her awake. Her fist reflexively flew up and smacked her nose, sending sharp pain across her face. With a curse, she lifted her head and fumbled with the holocom on her wrist, trying to remember through her grogginess how to turn the damned thing off. Once there was silence, her head fell back on the pillow.
Just another day in paradise.
She opened her eyes and squinted at the holocom’s display, which was blaringly bright in the otherwise dark room. 05:01. Not that it meant much in the Undercity, which was locked in an eternal night broken only by the vibrant, obnoxious neons and holograms on almost every street.
With a groan, Shay rolled onto her back, rubbing the throbbing bridge of her nose as all her other twinges and aches made themselves known—stiff back, sore hips, immense pressure on her bladder. Despite all that, she enjoyed this rare moment of peace.
Slipping her hands beneath the blanket, Shay settled them on her rounded stomach and closed her eyes. Little feet kicked against her palm from within.
Shay smiled. “Good morning, Baby.”
Baby. That was all she could call it. Shay didn’t know whether it was a boy or girl, wasn’t sure of the due date, didn’t even know what she was going to do when the time finally came. But she did know this baby was the only good thing in her life regardless of its conception and despite the piece of shit sperm donor, and she’d do her best not to fuck this up like she had everything else. Shay might have made a mess of her own life, but she wasn’t going to ruin her baby’s. She’d do better for her child.
Just how she was going to accomplish that remained a mystery, but she would.
It didn’t help that she’d been taken from everything she’d ever known, sold and thrust into this dangerous new world where some viewed her as weak and small, as a curiosity, a possession to be claimed. As a fucking animal.
Never again.
It’d been three weeks since her escape from that damned prison cell and every day had been a struggle. She was paranoid, always on guard, always looking over her shoulder, always anticipating the moment when they’d find her. And she was stuck here in Arthos. She had no ID chip and couldn’t get one through the United Terran Federation because of her criminal record—she had at least one warrant out for her arrest back on Earth. If she went to the embassy, they were guaranteed to see that warrant, and she’d be taken into custody. She was royally fucked.
Well, you wanted a fresh start. Doesn’t get much fresher than this. You’re nobody here.
“So, we make do with what we got, right Baby?” she asked softly, running her hand over her stomach as the baby restlessly shifted.
Pregnancy was a state she hadn’t wanted, one she couldn’t afford, but she didn’t resent it.
Fortunately, she’d been granted a better start than she might otherwise have had thanks to the azhera who’d purchased her from Murgen. He’d had chips with several thousand credits on them stashed in his pants pocket. But credits only went so far when you didn’t have an ID chip.
“And money isn’t going to make itself.” Despite those words, Shay lay on her pathetic excuse for a bed—an old, thin, lumpy gel mattress on the floor—and cherished the quiet moment with her baby a little longer.
She didn’t bother suppressing her groan when she finally rolled out of bed. “Lights on.”
The overhead lights along the upper walls hummed and flickered on, low and dim at first before strengthening to an uneven glow. Several were burned out.
On her hands and knees, Shay slipped her hand beneath her pillow, curled her fingers around the handle of her blaster, and pushed herself to her feet. Her bladder chose that moment to remind her of how long she’d ignored it.
She hurriedly snatched clean clothes from the dresser and crossed the small studio apartment to enter the bathroom. She set the blaster on the counter, shoved her underwear down, and relieved herself. The moan that escaped from her was embarrassing, but who the hell cared? No one was around to hear.
She took a moment just to glare at the auto-washer embedded on the wall—it was a sliding door about a meter wide and tall, and like everything else in the apartment, it was unreliable at best. The wash function worked well, but it was crapshoot as to whether her clothes would actually be dry when the done light came on. More than once, she’d been forced to drape damp clothing over the shower rod and let it air dry.
Once she’d finished on the toilet, she took a quick shower and got dressed.
The bathroom contained a tiny shower stall, a sink, and a bowl protruding from the wall that was her toilet, and it felt about the size of a coat closet. Despite being crowded and leaving her with bruised elbows a few times, it was enough for her. Better her arms than her belly, anyway, which seemed prone to bump into everything. She wasn’t used to being so…ungainly.
She was brushing her teeth when the door buzzer went sounded.
Shay paused, her mouth fully of toothpaste, and looked at the front door—which was behind her in the main room—in the mirror. She settled her free hand atop her blaster.
The buzz came again.
Trying to ignore how nauseous the toothpaste made her, she spat into the sink, set the toothbrush down, and quickly rinsed and wiped her mouth before stalking into the main room.
Pressing a shoulder against the wall beside the door, she raised the blaster and checked the charge. The view screen mounted near the doorframe hadn’t worked since she’d moved in. Any time she opened the door, she was doing so blind, and that was especially concerning in a place like this.
Her visitor pounded on the door. Shay felt the vibrations through the wall.
“Who is it?” she called.
“Open up, terran,” demanded Vrisk, her so-called landlord, his voice muffled through the closed door.
“What do you want? I’m busy.”
“Your payment is due.”
Shay pushed away from the wall to glare at the door as though she could see Vrisk through it. “The fuck you say? I paid for a month!�
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“It’s been a month. Hand over the credits or get out.”
Righteous fury burned in her belly. Shay gritted her teeth, switched the blaster into her left hand, tucked it behind her back, and disengaged the locks on the door.
“I so don’t have time for this shit,” she muttered, slapping the open button.
The door—the only thing in the apartment in decent working order—whipped open to reveal her two-hundred-ten-centimeter tall landlord, an ilthurii with dark brown bark scales and crimson eyes. He was one scary motherfucker, but that hadn’t stopped Shay from approaching him when she needed a place to stay, even if this was a dump.
Desperate times…
His hairless brow ridges were drawn down—whether in annoyance or in constipation, Shay neither knew nor cared. It was the look he always seemed to wear.
“It’s only been three weeks,” Shay said, glaring up at the overgrown lizard. “The deal was a month.”
Vrisk leaned down, the spines around his face and head flattening as he grunted. “If I say it’s been a month, it’s been a month. I want my credits, terran.”
“You’ll get your damned credits in a week.”
“I am not running a fucking charity.” He held his hand out. “I want what is due.”
Shay smacked his hand away. “You’ll get what’s due when it’s due.”
Vrisk snarled and stepped closer, shoving a clawed finger in her face. She barely managed to keep herself from shoving her gun into his.
“You will pay now, terran, or I will sell your room and everything inside it to another by the day’s end,” he said.
Shay’s jaw hurt from how hard she clenched it to keep her words from spewing out. Oh, the things she wanted to say to this asshole.
Think of the baby…
Shay tucked her blaster into the waistband of her pants and hid it under her shirt. “Stay there.”
She turned around and walked across the living space, listening closely for any indication that he might’ve followed her inside, to snatch up the belt draped over one of the chairs at the table. She fished the credit chip she’d been saving for next month’s rent out of one of the pouches. When she turned back toward the ilthurii, he was still standing in the hallway—and still looking like someone took a shit in his breakfast.
Striding to the door, Shay drew her arm back and snapped it forward, releasing the chip. It flew through the air and struck Vrisk right between his eyes. He flinched and shuffled backward, scrambling to catch it.
“There’s next month’s payment. You try and cheat me again, and I’ll blow your goddamned head off.” She hit the control button. The door shut immediately, cutting off Vrisk’s glare and any words he might have said.
A kick in her stomach startled Shay out of her anger. Shay settled her hand over the spot and closed her eyes, releasing a long, slow exhalation. “You’re right. Mommy’s gotta calm down.”
Once her heart slowed, she opened her eyes and glanced down at her holocom.
Shit!
Racing to the bathroom, she snatched a hairband from the counter, gathered her hair, and tied back. She returned to the living room and shoved her feet into her boots, nearly falling over in her haste. The near fall was enough to give her pause.
Bracing a hand on the wall, she took in another calming breath and muttered, “Slow down, Shay.”
After moving to the table, she placed the blaster atop it and picked up her tactical utility belt. Its weight was a comfort. Shay secured the belt around her waist and holstered the blaster. It wasn’t the only weapon she possessed. The belt—the same one she’d stolen from the azhera—held a wealth of surprises, including an extendable stun baton, a knife hilt that formed a hardlight blade when activated, a small but well stocked first-aid kit, and two sets of deceptively thin but strong automatically activated restraints.
She never left the apartment without it.
She grabbed her oversized hooded jacket and swung it on before opening the door and making her way out into the Undercity.
The Undercity was a place of stark contrasts—deep, inky darkness clashing with bright neon lights and pulsing holograms; the silent, still alleys that flowed off every street like roots from a tree juxtaposed against the bustling cacophony of the crowded walkways; cool air flowing from ventilation systems fighting against the heat of the crowds, locked in perpetual stalemate.
There were more alien species, languages, and scents than Shay could count, more than she could’ve imagined possible—and many of those scents made her wish pregnancy hadn’t sharpened her sense of smell.
But she’d dealt with nonhuman species on Earth, and even though she hadn’t seen a single human face since she’d been kidnapped and sold, this city seemed to share the same attitude prevalent in most large cities she’d visited. Most of these people were indifferent as they hurried past, acting as though the relatively small terran offering them floppy holographic flyers didn’t exist.
Assholes, the whole bunch of them.
Shay dropped her arm to her side and clutched the stack of flyers to her chest. Her shoulders sagged. Loose strands of hair that had escaped her ponytail and fallen from beneath her hood tickled her nose, and she blew them aside with a huff. After hours of walking up and down this block, her ankles were swollen, her feet were killing her, and her voice was hoarse, but her attempts to be seen and heard had failed miserably.
Why was it harder to get someone to look at a damn flyer than it was to bypass the security system of a high-end store and rob it blind?
Don’t these people understand that I’m trying to do things the legitimate way this time? Give me a break!
If she returned to her boss, Yorgaz, with all these flyers still in her possession at the end of her shift, he’d accuse her of laziness again. Then he’d launch into a rant about how her only job was to get asses into seats for the show, and if terrans were too stupid to do that, maybe he’d just ban them from his theater.
And Shay would bite her tongue and refrain from telling him that no one, no matter how alien, wanted to go watch trained skrudges—which were scary-looking, rat like animals—do tricks. Because she needed this job, she needed this fresh, legitimate start. She needed routine and stability. This was all she had for now. Once the baby came… Well, she’d figure out which branch to take when she reached that fork in the road.
Squaring her shoulders and setting her features in determination, Shay held a flyer out to the passing aliens. “Come see the Spectacular Skrudge Show!”
A tall, lean, four-armed dacrethian with pale pink skin glanced at her, snatched the flyer from her hand, and tossed it aside, walking on without even looking at it.
“Dick,” Shay said as she retrieved the flyer from the street. She backed away from the thicker foot traffic. “Come see the best trained skrudges in this galactic sector perform the most awe-inspiring tricks!”
The cycle continued on and on. Shay’s feet hurt more with each passing minute, her voice grew hoarser, her stomach was soon growling in hunger, and her frustration climbed to new heights. When another tall, powerfully built being passed her, Shay decided she’d had enough. Clearly her tactics weren’t working. She’d have to make them look at her.
Without thinking, Shay reached out, caught the being by his arm—an arm encased in some sort of segmented armor—and gave him a tug. “Hey, check out—”
Her eyes widened as the male turned to face her and she looked up into his intense green eyes. He was an azhera, his dun fur run through with darker patches of brown, and his broad shoulders were at least twice as wide as hers. He was huge—and he was terrifyingly familiar.
His nostrils flared, and his dark lips peeled back to reveal his fangs. His brows fell low. “You.”
This was the azhera who’d taken her from Murgen. Who’d purchased her.
Who she’d robbed.
“Fuck,” Shay breathed.
For what couldn’t have been more than a second or two—but in her m
ind felt like forever—they stared at each other. Violent criminals had been a part of her life for longer than she cared to admit, but she couldn’t recall having ever seen anyone look as angry and dangerous as this azhera right now.
Angry, dangerous, and kinda hot.
Where the hell had that thought come from?
The azhera eased closer to her. “I’ve been looking for—”
Shay released his arm and threw the stack of flyers in his face. The wobbly plastic pieces broke apart from each other the instant they were free, turning into a cloud of shimmering holographic advertisements that sent the azhera reeling.
Wheeling around, Shay ran. She had no destination, no plan, she just needed to escape. Even though this was one of the city sectors that seemed to have a very limited presence of peacekeepers, there were too many bystanders here, too many witnesses, for her to draw her blaster and start shooting. And even though Shay had done some shady stuff in her life, had broken a lot of laws, she’d never killed anyone—and she’d never hurt anyone that didn’t have it coming.
A bestial roar boomed behind her; it was the sort of sound that would’ve made a lion bow its head and scurry for a hiding place. Shay glanced over her shoulder to see the azhera swipe away the last few fluttering flyers. His fur was bristling, and the look of rage on his face had only intensified.
He charged toward her, plowing through the pedestrians in his path like a wrecking ball crashing through a wall.
Her eyes rounded, and her eyebrows rose. “Thaaaaat’s not good.”
Despite her soreness, her weariness, her awkwardness, Shay pushed herself forward with everything she had. The surprise advantage she’d gained with the flyers wouldn’t be enough to save her—she’d have to utilize anything she could to escape him.
And all she really had going for her right now was being a little terran.
Cradling her belly with one hand, she turned toward the center of the street, where the crowd was at its thickest, and plunged directly into the press of bodies. For once, her size was a boon—being smaller than many of the aliens allowed her to slip through the crowd with relative ease, using them to shield her from the azhera’s view.
Untamed Hunger Page 6