Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 64359 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 322(@200wpm)___ 257(@250wpm)___ 215(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64359 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 322(@200wpm)___ 257(@250wpm)___ 215(@300wpm)
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.
“ENOUGH!”
The scythkin — I really have to get his name — suddenly has them both in a big, shining hand. He grips Emrys by the back of the neck like a disobedient kitten, while his other hand is wrapped around the gauntlet of the barbarian. Neither one of them is able to move while he has them.
“Unhand me, insect!”
Of course it’s Emrys who says something that fucking stupid to an alien who is entirely capable of popping a blade out of any particular piece of his anatomy and turning the vampire into cold, unappealing kebabs. I do admire the nerve, though. Emrys has the vibe of a villain who is accustomed to being the master of his domain. It must be humiliating for him to be stopped by a scythkin. Good. I hope he hates it. I hope it causes a deep sense of shame that sinks into his bones and he thinks about it at random times of day for years to come.