“Yet fear has never held your tongue before,” Dracoth scoffs, his gaze fixed on the exit. “Do not betray me again, female.”
I clench my jaw, swallowing the words I desperately want to say.
Betray what? This great partnership we have? All this trust we’ve built?But I keep quiet, my attention shifting to the sights coming into view.
We step through the black marble hangar, and I’m immediately hit by the chaos of Star City. The sheer number of strange aliens bustling back and forth is overwhelming; the buzz of countless voices rises like a swarm. Above, a blazing purple sun dominates the skyline like a comet poised to strike. It’s all too much. After so long in the dark and away from crowds, my legs feel weak beneath me.
“Lexie!” Sandra calls out as my vision blurs, and the chain pulls taut before clanging noisily to the ground.
A strong hand catches me as I stumble, the familiar warmth bringing a faint smile to my face.
“Dracoth... Is that you?” I ask, my blurry vision and hazy mind making everything feel like the end of a particularly intense bender.
“Drink this,” Dracoth demands, pressing something to my lips. My tentative sips quickly turn into greedy gulps. The delicious liquid is thick, sweet, and creamy, reminding me of partially melted ice cream.
He’s been holding out on us!
“Gods, look at her go!” Demon Egg-Head mocks, but I don’t care. This drink isyummy. Already, I feel better—the cool liquid soothes my throat, fills my growling stomach, and refreshes me.
“Silence, you old gas cloud,” Dracoth snaps before taking the container away.
No, come back!
“I’ll carry you,” he offers, helping me to my feet. My legs feel steadier now.
“No... no.” I wave a hand to fend him off, though a secret part of me likes him carrying me. “I’ll be fine. Just got a little dizzy.” I wipe the sweat from my brow and take a deep breath as my vision clears.
My gaze sweeps back to the bustling crowd. Alien passersby stare at us with open mouths. Whether because of my fall, Dracoth’s massive size, or the fact Sandra and I are human, I can only guess. My heart skips a beat as I take in their strange features and colorful, garish clothes. Some of them are the same species that attacked us on the ship, which doesn’t help my unease.
Still, these aliens stroll about the sprawling, sandy-colored paved streets and buildings in a hurry, like people back on Earth going about their business.
A market area unfolds before me. Tall structures stacked high with blinking neon lights display strange, runic symbols. Wooden stalls, laden with various items, are hawked by gray-haired Clown-dathians dressed in leather—much like what I’m wearing. My nostrils flare as the scent of unknown cooked foods wafts through the air, mingling with an earthy smell.
“Um... could I try some of what Lexie had?” Sandra pipes up, licking her dry lips.
God, she must be desperate if she’s asking Dracoth for something.
Dracoth frowns, reaching for a container hanging from his grotesque belt of bones. The faint sound of liquid sloshing inside the almost-empty vessel makes my cheeks burn.
“Ignixis, give her yours,” Dracoth commands, gesturing to Demon Egg-Head.
“Absolutely not! I need mine!” Demon Egg-Head protests as though I’ve asked him to dunk his head in a toilet. “Oh, don’tlook at me like that,boy. It’s the plump female’s fault. She drank all yours like a greedy little borack calf.”
My anger flares at his yellow-fanged smirk, glinting beneath his hood. “If you assholes hadn’t starved us, I wouldn’t have needed to drink so much, would I?” I snap, glaring at Demon Egg-Head with clenched teeth.
“Asshole!” Demon Egg-Head cackles. “You humans have the most fascinating insults. It’s like hitting a vipertail’s nest—each barb a unique color!”
I grimace, ready to unleash another torrent of insults when a realization hits me—he likes this. The attention. He feeds off it like some creepy, blood-sucking vampire demon. I’ve dealt with attention-seeking bitches before, and I’m not playing his game anymore.
Summoning all my considerable grace, I turn my head away and flip my hair over my shoulder with a satisfying swish.
Dracoth peers down at Sandra, who meets his gaze with a gentle, earnest smile. For a fleeting moment, something flickers in his crimson eyes... maybe an emotion. I almost gasp.
God, is that... concern?
“We eat,” he declares suddenly, turning with haste.
Sandra and I exchange a quick glance, eyes wide, brows lifting, as our chains yank us forward like tin cans tied to a just-married car.
