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“Oh,” he grins. “You must have sold yourself to a scythkin.”
I’ve heard of scythkins before, but I assumed they weren’t really real. The stories about them are fucking wild. They love owning humans, though some of the stories say they actually consider themselves protectors of humanity. I guess that’s in keeping. He was trying to help me before he came bursting all the way out of his skin.
Raz moves us around the back counter and then over it. I notice that I can somewhat see the counter through my body as we move over it. He is making me somewhat invisible somehow. I wonder if anything he touches also turns invisible, or if there’s something intentional about this process.
We sneak by the confrontation which is still taking place on the other side of the counter. The scythkin could rip the other two to shreds, but he seems to be restraining himself for the moment. I can’t hear what is being said, largely because Emrys is no longer shouting or raising his voice in any way.
I am pulled out the back of the diner, around the trash cans.
Raz is chuckling to himself as we put distance between ourselves and the three owners in the diner. He picks me up, swinging me onto his back as he carries me through the crowds, dodging aliens who clearly cannot see either one of us. It’s fun being invisible, even in this vicarious way.
We dash to the port, where a little bit of his ship is just barely visible until he puts his hand on the hull and a sleek blue vessel appears. It has swept back stabilizers and yellow contrast exhaust grates. It looks like something that was made to go very fast. It also looks very cheerful, much like Raz himself.
He gets us on board. The second the hull is sealed behind us, he barks a command in his native language. There’s a brief tugging sensation and then the station is a tiny dot in the distance. A second later, it is entirely gone.
I realize at this point that I am now stranded with nothing besides my clothing in a spaceship with an alien who can make himself invisible, and who has legal claim to me. I am out of the frying pan, but god knows what fire awaits me.
“You’re a real piece of work.” He smiles down at me, his handsome features lit with amusement. “I’ve seen some scams in my time, but that? That has to be one of the best.”
I let myself feel a little bit pleased at his compliment, though of course I have to deny that I was actually doing anything wrong.
“I have never seen anybody brave enough to sell themselves to the most dangerous aliens in the universe over and over again. You know they are going to hunt you down, don’t you?”
“We can’t let them find me.”
He cocks his head to the side, and his big blue shoulders perform a kind of shrug that indicates this is all out of his hands.
“Here’s the problem. Every time you sold yourself, the system tagged you.”
“Tagged my tablet, you mean.”
“No, I mean it tagged you. It’s nano-tech. The nearest commercial bots sent a little organism to fly in your ear or up your nose and it embedded a tag that broadcasts to your owner. You are never going to be able to escape any of us, Julie.”
“My name’s not Julie.”
“Whatever it is, it doesn’t matter. Those three are going to come for you.”
“Okay, well, I didn’t know that.” That makes me rethink things a little. “How did I manage to sell myself so many times over if I was being tagged every time?”
“I don’t know. Maybe it’s a glitch in the system. Those still happen sometimes.”
“I’m starting to think this was a bad idea. Maybe I’ll just refund everyone, call it an accident. Maybe I’ll go to the company’s head office and explain. Would you take me there?”
He flashes me a broad smile. “You know I am one of your owners, don’t you?”
Owners… There’s something in the way he says that… there’s a note of possession and carnal intention. He just saved my life, probably. If I had stayed stuck between those other aliens… if Emrys had been able to have whatever counts as his way with me…
“What do you plan to do with your property?” My question is arch, but genuine.
His golden eyes run up and down me, and I see the corners of his mouth turn up as he makes an even broader smile. “I have to say, the packaging is very cute, but I want to see exactly what I bought.”
“And what if I don’t want to show you?”
He arches a brow and gives me a cocky grin. “Then I’d have to strip you myself, wouldn’t I?”
“I suppose you would.”
I am testing him, but I am also curious. My intimate experiences are limited. I’ve spent most of my life trying to avoid this exact scenario. I swore I’d never be one of the girls who had to trade her body for favors, but the older I got, the more I realized the others weren’t doing it because they were lazy. They were doing it because it’s basically the only way to survive in a universe where the strong dominate, and the weak are forced to submit or suffer. Sometimes you’re made for something, and sometimes all creation is determined to use you for that one thing.
