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A shot rings out, catching him dead center of his chest. The massive, bladed alien staggers back a moment and drops to the ground. There’s only one creature in this vicinity who carries weapons capable of downing a scythkin.
I speak first in the aftermath of the shot.
“I’ve been wondering when you’d show up.” My voice shakes a little, even though I’m trying to be brave.
A languid drawl emanates from the shadows. “Little lady, you’ve led me on quite a chase.”
I thought I was afraid when I was in Emrys’ grip. Now I am reminded of the meaning of true fear. The devil you know isn’t always better than the vamp you don’t. This alien is silhouetted as a tall, lean figure against the lights of Owned Mates. I know his face already. I know that his eyes will be filled with a mocking kind of laughter. I know…
I know that it takes more than one shot, even a good one, to put a scythkin down for long.
The scythkin rises from the ground, having been momentarily put down by the bullet. It didn’t even seem to make a dent. Instead, it’s probably still ricocheting down the strip. Hard to say, because all my attention is being taken up by the probably inevitable but still very unwelcome convergence of alien males. Emrys strides out of the shadows, his expression grim as the grave. I see a flash of blue about the edges of my vision and I know that Raz is nearby. Thank god. Hopefully he’ll help me escape again. He’s staying out of sight, blending into the shadows and using his natural abilities to remain undetected.
Kronos the barbarian makes his presence known by walking into the zone of combat. He looks only vaguely perturbed, as if chasing his mate through the universe with a squad of other aliens he just met is something he does every other day.
“Shoot first, ask questions later, lawman?” The scythkin is also remarkably relaxed for someone who was just shot. I’m impressed with his restraint. He is the most dangerous creature in the galaxy and I have no doubt he could destroy the Sheriff in a matter of seconds if he wanted to. It’s a testament to his temperament that he’s so relaxed.
The assembled alien males all eye one another, the vamp, the barbarian, the spy, the scythkin, and the sheriff. One might think that the authority of the law is the only thing stopping this from being an absolute massacre, but I think this could easily turn into a blood bath at absolutely any moment.
“There aren’t any questions worth asking about this one,” Sheriff says. “That bullet was a favor to you. I’m afraid you boys have all been scammed.”
“That had occurred to us,” Emrys growls.
I shrink away from Sheriff, even though it takes me toward Emrys. It says a lot about the way I feel about that guy that the malevolence coming from the valker is like a warm bath compared to the lawman’s energy.
“I’ve been chasing this young lady longer than any of you might care to imagine. She’s wily, alright. Had to purchase a share myself in order to track her down,” Sheriff says.
“So she’s a criminal,” Emrys says.
Raz smirks from the shadows. He is my closest ally, the only one who does not seem confused or angry or intent on making me do everything he says forever and ever. I got lucky with that guy. I glance at him in the hopes he’ll catch my eye and offer something reassuring. He doesn’t. He’s looking at Sheriff, but that makes sense. I’d bet that Raz has some warrants of his own to worry about.
The scythkin doesn’t care about any of these revelations, probably because the scythkin has no intention of giving me up no matter what I’ve done. I can already tell how intent he is on having me regardless of whatever Sheriff says. An alien who is prepared to burst through a plate glass window to abduct me from a shop is not overly concerned with my criminality.
Sheriff is nevertheless triumphant. He might be a crack hand with a gun, but right now he is choosing to twist the knife instead.
“There’s no chance of getting your funds back, because she owes more than the contents of whatever account she’s put your hard-won earnings into, I can guarantee you that. I picked up that pad of hers back at the diner. Those accounts have been closed, and the funds have been reintegrated into the payouts for her many creditors.”
“So the only value we have is her.” Emrys gestures toward me with a pointed, accusatory finger.
“A fifth of her each,” Kronos says.
“She is mine,” the scythkin replies.
As they discuss their ownership, I am looking for a way out. There are not a lot of ways to go. If I so much as move a muscle, I’d have all of them on me in an instant. How did some of the most intense alien males in the universe end up buying me? The odds of every single one of them tracking me down and finding me seem astronomical. I would have thought that the type of alien to purchase a mate would be an ineffectual, undesirable, weak sort of creature unable to pull from the limited pool of available females of his own species.
The scythkin, I understand. A scythkin matriarch devours her mate after she has been fertilized, so it’s understandable to want to kick that particular can down the road. The males are the most dangerous creatures you’ll encounter, striking terror into those they cross. That’s why they wear the suits. Posing as other aliens only to come bursting out of very lifelike disguises in a flurry of carapace and blades also adds a certain je ne sais quoi to the whole affair.
“Why don’t we go to my ship and talk about sharing her there?” Kronos speaks up. “I’ve got cells that’ll keep her contained. Maybe some of us are prepared to sell our shares.”
“I already overpaid for the lying little wench,” Emrys hisses. “If you think I will spend another deep space cent on her, you are out of your mind.”
“Aw, you’re already attached,” I smirk. Probably shouldn’t be teasing him this way. He’s malevolence incarnate. But I am also not having a particularly great day right now, and I like to start shit sometimes. If I can put them off taking me, that might save me a whole lot of pain. Hell, if I’m enough of a pain in the ass, maybe they’ll all forfeit their shares and I’ll go free.
Emrys glares at me. “You are a criminal,” he growls. “You are a human whose value lies in the heat of your meat and very little…”
One of the most satisfying things I have ever seen in my life is the hammer-like fist of a godly handsome barbarian meeting the chin and jaw of Emrys. The vamp goes sideways before turning with feline alacrity, his body twisting as if his spine were made of cooked spaghetti. His jaw hinges open, multiple fangs extending from the roof of his mouth. He has two prominent ones, but there are others on either side. They look like the inside of a particularly vicious predator’s maw, the kind that once it bites you, you can’t pull away without tearing off parts of your own flesh because they curve backwards and away.
The barbarian takes a step back — not as a matter of retreat, but because he needs the range in order to swing his sword. The weapon is off his shoulder in an instant, flashing with a blue electric field that I know is not for show. He doesn’t have to actually make contact with the blade — though you wouldn’t like it if he did. That sword has enough energy stored in it to drop a herd of almost any animal you might choose to name.
