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Keffing praxiian.
Keffing Bethiah.
The praxiian leans in toward her and whispers something, and she nods. She picks up her drink, spears all three blobs and downs them, belching a puff of pink smoke, and then gets to her feet.
Immediately, I stand, ignoring the sharp pain that slices up my leg. Shaking it off, I cross the bar and head to her side.
The praxiian notices my approach and steps closer to Bethiah.
It only sets off my anger even more. “Get your keffing hands off her.”
“It’s okay,” Bethiah says, putting a hand on my chest to stop me and then smiling at the praxiian. “He’s with me.”
The praxiian’s lip curls, showing fangs yellowed with age. “I’m not into threesomes.”
Then he’s definitely picked the wrong female. Before I can comment, though, Bethiah steps in front of me. “This is my bodyguard. Zasson is here to make sure I don’t get hurt.”
And she swats my good leg with her tail.
That’s my cue to let her take the lead, but I hate this. I bare my fangs back at the praxiian as he puts a hand on her waist and leads her towards the elevator, leaving me no choice but to limp after them. I do my best to keep up, though my leg is starting to really pain me. To her credit, Bethiah takes small, mincing steps and flirts the entire way across the lobby back to the elevator, where this time the guard rolls his eyes and lets the three of us through without a word of protest.
I say nothing as we go up floor after floor and Bethiah coos over the praxiian’s “fine whiskers.” I continue right on saying nothing as we get off the elevator and head down the hall. Glaring at the male’s back, I almost miss Bethiah’s signal. She gestures at something with her hand and then exclaims, pausing to fiddle with her shoe. “Oh, I think I broke a strap.”
The praxiian waits with an amused smile as she pulls the shoe off and makes a big show of fussing with it, and then flicks her tail to get my attention. I look over at the corner of the hall where she keeps indicating…and the security cameras are there. Of course.
“Can you believe a female like me wears this kind of shoe?” Bethiah giggles, sounding far too much like Rhonda at the moment. “Guess what planet I got these on.”
I move past both of them and pause when my eye sensors intercept the feed from the camera. I make a loop of the hall quickly, and then work on delicately tapping at the security system, looking for flaws in the code where I can force my way in. The security is incredibly lax, and I have access within moments, inserting the feed of Bethiah and her client standing in the hall and talking.
“All clear,” I say.
“Oh thank kef,” Bethiah says loudly. She grabs the praxiian by the throat and slams his head into an ornate sconce on the wall. The metal clangs loudly, the praxiian’s eyes roll back, and he slumps to the ground. She immediately crouches over him and rifles through his pockets, looking for the pass-key that gives access to the hotel. “If he grabbed my ass one more time I was going to make a rug out of him.”
“He grabbed your ass?” I growl. “I told you I hate this idea of yours.”
“You hate all my ideas,” she says, unfazed, and holds up a decorated fob with a room number and the hotel’s logo engraved on it. “It worked, didn’t it?”
“Except now I’ve hacked into the hotel, we’ve got a praxiian hostage, and we still don’t have our bounty.” I shake my head at her. “I’m starting to see why you get arrested so often.”
“Stick with me and I’ll teach you all my tricks,” she jokes, which only makes me growl harder. “Come on. Let’s see if we can find the suites.”
One Hundred Thirteen
BETHIAH
This job is turning out to be no fun at all.
Normally I’d entertain myself by causing some chaos. Maybe try to drop in through a vent, maybe rob a few people, maybe see how many drinks I could have at the bar before I decided to go swimming in the aquarium…but I can’t stop worrying over Jamef. I feel every step acutely, wondering if it’s bothering his leg. When we turn down a long hall, I inwardly look for a shortcut so he won’t have to walk so much.
Kef, I’d carry the guy if he’d let me. But Jamef is far too prickly for that sort of thing, so the best I can do is try to get this job over with quickly. Then we’re heading to the nearest station and we’re getting him repaired. I don’t care how much it costs.
I’ll sell Rhonda to the highest bidder before I’ll let Jamef go another day in pain.
