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They followed closely behind, as Pog hurried around the nearby stalls and elicited the occasional shriek of alarm as he sniffed someone’s leg. After a while circling the same spot, he sat down and made a mournful sound.
Tegan glanced at Zaandr. “What does that mean?”
The Dothvek’s chin dropped. “He lost the scent.”
She bent down and patted Pog’s head before hoisting him back into her bag. “That’s okay, buddy. You tried your best.” She pivoted to Zaandr. “What do we do now? Do we continue to search for him or go back to the ship?”
“It would be wise for us to return to the ship.”
“But you don’t want to,” she said, her instinct telling her that he was only saying they should go back for her benefit.
He frowned. “It doesn’t matter what I want. I was tasked with protecting you. Now that Rixx has disappeared, I can no longer guarantee your safety.”
“Do you think I’m in danger, or do you think since one Dothvek has vanished, you might be in danger of disappearing too?” The second possibility had just occurred to her, but as soon as the words left her lips, she knew they were right. She swiveled her gaze to the people who inhabited the place known as the Den of Thieves. They wouldn’t care about a well-covered, nondescript human female in a place like Kurril, but burly, half-naked aliens with gold skin and ridged backs were a different matter. She knew that there were fighting competitions on the planet and slave auctions, and in both, a Dothvek would be a prize.
She slipped one of her arms around Zaandr’s waist. “Maybe you’re the one who should stick close to me.”
He grunted as he started to move her in the direction they’d come. “If I am a target, then being with me puts you in danger. I need to get you to safety before I can look for Rixx.”
Tegan remembered the stories Tori had told her about being on Kurril, about how she’d tracked Vrax to a slave market and then to the particularly dangerous madam who’d bought him. And that had been before he’d entered the fighting rings. She stopped walking.
Zaandr jerked to a stop and narrowed his eyes at her. “What are you doing?”
“It’s my fault your friend is missing. If I hadn’t needed supplies, neither of you would have been here.”
“It is not your fault for needing supplies.” He cast a dark look around them. “The only ones to blame are the ones who are behind Rixx’s disappearance.”
“Either way, whoever managed to take a Dothvek without you noticing or him being able to send you some kind of mind signal must be pretty clever or pretty deadly. Which means we don’t have time to waste taking me back to the ship. We need to find him now.”
Zaandr shook his head. “Impossible. If I let you remain here and in danger, I’ll be failing at my mission. Rixx would understand why I cannot risk you for him.”
“The faster we start looking, the greater the chance we can find him or find someone who saw something.” She stamped one foot on the ground. “I’m not going to be the reason you don’t find your friend.”
She locked her gaze on him, hoping he would see how serious she was and that she should not be challenged on this. But even as she stared at him, her heart pounded with traitorous desire.
Focus, Tegan. Now is not the time to get a ridiculous crush. You have to find Rixx, not think about how good he felt pressed close to your side.
His eyes flared dark as one eyebrow lifted. “So be it.” Then sighed, bent down, and tossed her over one shoulder. “If you won’t come willingly, I will have to take you back to the ship by force.”
Chapter
Seven
The female wiggled on Zaandr’s shoulder as she struggled to get down, and she slapped one hand on his back as he made his way back through the bustling market. She used her other hand to keep her bag from falling and to keep Pog inside it. “Let me down!”
He ignored her cries, which were luckily drowned out by the frenzy of the vendors shouting about their prices and the animals screeching in protest from inside cages. The sight of a male carrying someone over his shoulder—even a someone who was clearly being taken against their will—didn’t draw many glances. The lack of concern for the screaming female worked to his advantage, but it made unease tickle the nape of his neck. He’d been warned by Vrax that the Den of Thieves was treacherous, but Zaandr wondered what kind of place this was to allow such a thing to happen.
The kind of place where a Dothvek warrior could vanish without a trace, he thought darkly, his thoughts returning to his best friend, who was now missing.
Zaandr knew he had to move fast—get Tegan to the ship, tell the other Dothveks, and mount a rescue. But where would they begin? They could start in the market where Rixx had last been seen, but he knew that the chances he was still there were slim.
Vrax had warned him about the Den of Thieves and told him about his own experiences and narrow escape. In a place that contained a slave market, more pleasure houses than he could imagine, fighting rings, and an underground market for all kinds of dark deeds, there was no doubt in his mind that Rixx had been taken for a reason.
He swallowed the sharp taste of bile that teased the back of his throat. He probably didn’t want to know the reason.
Zaandr had known something was wrong from the moment he’d realized Rixx wasn’t nearby and had reached out his mind—and sensed nothing. He wasn’t used to nothing. On the bounty hunting ship, there were enough Dothvek minds to have a steady mental patter. Not to mention the females, who were not shy about conversation.
On his home world, he’d been surrounded by other Dothveks in his oasis village. There had been a constant buzz of thoughts and ever-present pulses of emotions. The only time he’d heard and felt nothing had been when he’d ventured onto the sands alone to hunt, but that had been rare. Usually, Rixx had joined him.
