The back of my neck prickles with awareness as Bethiah saunters up to the big moden male with his arms crossed, standing in front of the elevators. He glares at her and holds his palm out, and she gestures at me. “Pay the male, boss, and hand over the keycard.”
I hand her the leads for the two humans and pretend to pat my clothes, as if forgetting where I kept the keycard. As I do, I can see the male reptile sneaking forward in the shadows, knowing he’s going to strike before we leave. That’s what I’d do, after all. I pat my tunic again, frowning.
The reptilian male strikes, but I’m ready for him. He lashes out with a knife, and I block it with my forearm, letting the thick mesakkah plating block most of the slash. I slam my other fist into his face, and when he grunts, I grab him by the soft bag of flesh under his jaw, the one that inflates and turns red when he’s frightened. It turns red even as I grab it, and I slam him up against the wall with a head-splitting CRACK.
He collapses, boneless.
I glance over at Bethiah. “Now we can go.”
She looks over at the moden. He just wiggles his fingers as if he wants to be paid more. “Right,” Bethiah says. “You pay our friend. Come on, ladies,” she says, switching to a human dialect. “We’re going to steal his clothes and get you something to wear so you don’t have to go through the entire station naked.”
CHAPTER 62
HELEN
I’m restless and anxious as I wait for Mathiras to return. I hate being left behind. I hate having to wait aboard the ship, pacing and worrying as my lover heads toward the most dangerous part of Three Nebulas Station without his amazing, perfect bodyguard—me.
Adiron isn’t worried, though. He has his data-pad out and types away on it, composing another note for Jade. “I’m trying to decide what to get her here at 3N,” he tells me. “You think she’d like a dress? Or maybe something to put in her hair?” He gets dreamy for a second. “She has such nice, springy hair with the cutest little curls.”
“Jewelry,” I say absently, biting one of my nails and leaning over one of the stations to peer at the monitors. They’re set to watch the docks, but nothing’s happening there.
“Oh right. Ear jewelry. I can do that. She does have the cutest little ears.” He types some more. “Cutest everything, really. Ah, kef, now I miss her again.” Adiron sighs heavily. “Tell me something from your days back on the Star. Something about Jade. Anything.”
“She likes scented candles,” I tell him. “Flower scents. Said she missed having a bath with some next to a tub so she could just relax.” We’d often share stories about things we missed back home, luxuries that we were having to do without—or rather, Jade and Alice and Ruth would, and I’d listen in excitedly, trying to visualize such things. Ruth said she missed music and movies. Alice missed food. Jade missed creature comforts like soaps that didn’t dry out her skin, and scented things, and pretty clothes.
He groans. “Smelly things? She would say that. But I’ll see what I can do.”
There’s movement on one of the monitors and I gasp, practically pressing my face to the screen. “Is that Mathiras?” There’s a group hustling toward the Little Sister, hands on blasters. I see one mesakkah female, but it doesn’t look like Zebah. They have two dirty humans with them, and when the male stops looking behind him, I can see his face.
Relief floods through me and I race toward the door, lowering the ramp so they can board. I can’t let myself be seen by the dock guards that crawl below, but I can wait in the shadows to kiss his face the moment he boards again. I clasp my hands tightly under my chin, lurking as the group heads up the ramp. First it’s the strange female, and then the two dirty humans—and the stench they carry with them.
The moment Mathiras is aboard, the doors slide closed. I let out a happy squeal and fling my arms around his neck, showering his face with kisses. He smells like the humans, with the stink of the station, but I don’t care. He’s beautiful and right here and he’s mine. “You’re back!”
“Holy kef of all kef, is that a qura’aki?” the strange mesakkah female says, a hint of wonder in her voice. “You’ve been holding out on me, naughty boy.”
Mathiras practically growls at her and puts his arm around my waist, hauling me against him protectively. “This is my mate.”
The female makes a face. “I’m not trying to shag her, I’m just surprised.”
One of the humans gives the female mesakkah a shove and then races down the hall, sobbing. The other chases after her, also running, and I blink. “Are they scared?”