Keeping an arm around his waist, a wing hugging him, and his face turned to my neck, I walked out as confidently as possible, dragging the limp human beside me. My soul pounded, but I remained relaxed. All I needed was confidence. Everyone believed confidence. Act like you belonged, and people assumed the same.
I exited, and no one said anything. The guards didn’t even notice us.
The moment the building was out of sight, I swept the human into my arms and rushed to my shuttle with my precious treasure.
Chapter 4
If this is a rescue, I don’t like it.
I woke to the floor vibrating beneath me. The sensation sent an ice shard right to my heart, and I froze, unable to move. For a moment, I smelled the stench of too many bodies crammed together, heard the sobs and cries of terror, and felt the overwhelming dread that I was going to die. That this was it—my last moment alive.
My arm throbbed in time with my rapid pulse, drawing my attention from the uncomfortable memories. I took a deep breath, trying to force myself to move, but my limbs were locked in place as a sense of helplessness filled me. I was stuck. Once again, I was stuck and going somewhere else. I tried to take deepbreaths, but my lungs didn’t want to cooperate and my pulse hammered in my ears, drowning out the vibration.
A pulsing throb went through my arm, and I focused on that. The pain. It was so clear and real. No shadows. No guilt hiding beneath the memories. No panic. Just my body telling me I’d been injured. Straightforward.
I drew in a huge gulp of air, then held it before releasing it. I did it again and again, then one more time. Slowly, my pulse settled, and I shifted. Moving was possible. First things first, I checked my arm. A jagged white cloth stained with red was wrapped around my arm. Red. Blood. I blinked, trying to collect my scattered thoughts.
What had actually happened, and where the fuck was I?
The cabin around me didn’t say much. I was on the sole bed in the room. The walls were metal, though far nicer than anything I’d seen on Xome, and there were plenty of panels that looked like they popped open for storage. Besides the recessed lighting and a small monitor, there wasn’t anything else.
All of a sudden it hit me like a ton of bricks. That fucker. The purple drakcol had cut me with his claws and kidnapped me. He’d fucking abducted me. Twice now I’d been taken by aliens. Why couldn’t people stop kidnapping me?
One second, I was on the reasonably comfortable bed, and the next I was in a heap on the floor, groaning. The ship lurched again, sending me sliding across the floor and into the wall, making me yelp. I scrambled to my feet, tangling in the silky blanket, and smacked into the wall; blood coursed over my lips and tears rushed to my eyes. Swearing, I gingerly pressed my fingers against my nostrils to stem the tide from what I guessed was a broken nose.
What the hell was happening?
I slid again, hitting the bed, though the mattress cushioned the blow. I forced myself to my feet and scrambled to thedoorway. Crashing into the walls, I rushed down a tight corridor that opened into a cockpit. The white-haired drakcol was at the controls. He peered back at me, his deep green eyes wide while his slit pupils were narrowed.
“Ah, human, you’re awake.”
“What the hell is going on?” I asked, voice calm, as the ship squealed and lurched again.
“We're under attack.”
“No shit.” I could’ve figured that out myself. I slammed into the wall again, my shoulder screaming from the impact. Where the hell were the stabilizers?
The shuttle jerked, and I staggered, hands landing on the alien’s shoulders to catch myself. He didn’t even react, and his fingers continued flying over the controls.
“Who’s attacking us?” There was no way Agk was coming after me. He didn’t care enough. I was a product to be used and thrown away—nothing more, nothing less.
Vince. God, I’d left him behind. I had to go back for him.
The drakcol pushed me toward the stool beside him. “Xoi. They are after this ship or me. I’m not sure which, and they didn’t bother to tell me when I politely asked.”
“Why would they want you?” I asked, then paused, finally recognizing him. “You’re that racer.”
The drakcol gave me a wide smile that made me frown. He blinked like it was unbelievable that someone didn’t like his smile. The ship jolted, and he pressed buttons faster.
“Dontilvynsan,” he said, and at first I thought it was his name, but another drakcol appeared on the monitor.
The behemoth with black scales and purple hair stared at my drakcol. “What’s going on?”
“I’m under attack.”
The ship groaned, and I swore. I was getting rescued by a maniac, and I was going to die because of it. Not starvation. Notbeing sold to a restaurant. Not exposure. Not being ripped apart in the fighting ring. No, I was going to die because some drakcol decided to “save” me, then mounted a piss-poor rescue.
I was past the point of caring, though fear did zing through me at my imminent demise. Besides, wasn’t this exactly what I deserved?
