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I let the issue go, just as a real bodyguard would. Securing my client’s safety was supposed to be my focus, not indulging in fights. Frek, I wanted to, though! The chance to channel the energy racing through me into something I could punch sounded really damned good.
Gravin had used the distraction to drift closer to this end of the dance floor. The huge merc scowled as he pretended to dance, more bouncing in place than anything else. I choked back a laugh. My friend was horrible at “having a good time.” The only thing that ever got him to relax was his human mate, Car-Raa. His gaze met mine for a moment, and his eyes narrowed slightly—he was ready for a fight.
I kept my face expressionless—we didn’t want anyone to figure out we knew each other—and turned back toward the door.
The Sjisji guiding us lifted her wings to get my attention. Her beak hung slightly open as if she wanted to clack it in irritation at the delay, but she held off on the display because she really did think Fran-Key was royalty.
My mate took that as her cue. One gloved hand emerged from the slit in her golden robe to wave me to follow as she started forward again.
The movement brought me close enough to smell her sweet scent for just a moment, and my tail flicked forward to brush her leg before I could pull it back.
Fortunately, the Sjisji had already turned away and didn’t see my slip, and Fran-Key was far too good at playing her role to react.
We made it past the rest of the dancers without anything else going wrong, and my shoulders started to relax. The wide door, built with Grug in mind, trundled open, and we pushed through a set of blackout curtains into the well-lit room beyond. The entire nightclub had started life as a warehouse. Darkness hid the plainness of the walls in the main room, but no special effort had been made here. Everything was utilitarian work lights, unpainted metal, and an unpolished composite floor.
All of this made the row of display cages standing in the middle of the open space impossible to miss.
They were small, made that way to force the animals close to the front and into easy view.
Only this time, they were filled with Hyoo-mon females.
Fran-Key didn’t jolt or give any outward sign that seeing others of her kind locked up bothered her. And it must have, because she’d been kept in a cage once, too.My soul’s breath is a blade made of pure titanium, polished to a glorious shine, both strong and beautiful.
And deadly.
She remained calm.
I wished I could say the same. A group of Zaarn mercenaries stood right in front of the cages.
Frek! What in the seven sectors are they doing here?
They weren’t anyone I knew, but that was pretty normal. Only three-quarters of Zaarn males found a fated mate on our home world. All of the rest of us were banished, sent to Roam. That meant hundreds of males left our planet each year as soon as they turned twenty without their kron vibrating for a fated mate.
These Zaarn were a complication we didn’t need. Just because they were my species didn’t mean they’d be on our side. Or that they were good guys. Some males became so despondent at the thought of never having a fated mate that they went hard and turned to pirating.
The Daredevils took jobs that weren’t “legal,” but a lot of laws trampled over the little people, and we always followed a code. But I had no idea if these males had any honor left.
My shoulders tightened, and my hands fell to the grips of my blasters. They were set to stun, and I’d knock out everyone in this room if I had to.
But the odds were now ten to one against us.
Frek. This job just went about as unsmooth as you could get.
CHAPTER THREE
Frankie
WHAT A SHIT show!
Four women of different shapes, sizes, and colors stood in a series of cages in the middle of the bright room. They had one thing in common, though—they were all in their early twenties like me, all fertile.
Each of them still wore the flimsy white onesies we were put into on Earth by the cryotechnicians. They all looked a little dazed, slumped against the bars. I remembered the woozy, disjointed feeling I’d had right after coming out of cryo. It sucked ass and made everything about waking up surrounded by aliens a hell of a lot worse.
But I was also glad they hadn’t been awake long. It jived with what we’d found out—the big gray aliens were keeping the women on ice in cryo for easy storage. They were only waking them a few at a time whenever they had a sale lined up.
It gave us more time to find the others.
That headache was future-Frankie’s problem. Right now, I needed to spring these girls. Four might just be doable, as long as the bidding didn’t go high. We’d drain this royal dry, but she had mega-rich parents, so it wasn’t like she was going to bed hungry, no matter how much we spent. And since the duchess was the type who’d come to an illegal sentient auction, I sure as shit didn’t feel bad about using her creds to do something good.
