Chapter 16
Chapter
Sixteen
Skye
Even with a head start, there was no way we were going to remain free if we didn’t get off the streets and make Kolt look less like a Vandar.
I eyed the nearly seven-foot-tall alien with dark swirls spooled across his bare chest and a tail that slashed anxiously behind him.
Not to mention the leather kilt and thick boots.
There was nothing about this guy that made him easy to hide.
So far, we hadn’t run into many of the locals, but that was because we’d kept to back alleys. It couldn’t last forever, and soon word would be out that escaped prisoners were on the loose. Already, distant sirens and muffled shouting put me on high alert. How long until soldiers tracked us down?
I glanced up at the clothes dangling overhead. “Can you grab that?”
Kolt flicked his gaze to the air-drying garments, reaching one arm up to snatch a white cloak that looked only moderately damp. “This?”
“We need to cover up all your…” I flapped a hand at his markings. “Vanderness.”
His dark brows pressed together. “Vanderness?”
I glanced over my shoulder, certain that someone would come around the corner and spot us at any second. “Didn’t you notice the locals? They don’t appear to have tails or tattoos.”
Kolt touched a hand to his markings. “These are not tattoos. Vandar are born with—”
“I know, I know, but they don’t know because they’ve probably never seen a Vandar before.” I sighed out a hot breath. “How long until they spread the word that a dangerous, tailed alien is on the loose and we’re caught?”
His scowl deepened, and he attempted to put on the cloak. The fabric strained across his shoulders, and the front didn’t come close to closing. Still, for now, it was better than nothing.
“It’s wet,” he said.
I touched the fabric covering one bicep, trying to ignore how hard the muscle was underneath. “It’s not sopping wet.”
He grunted, clearly unhappy.
“We’ll find something better,” I said as I waved for him to follow me. “But right now, we need to move.”
He didn’t argue as we continued down the alley and turned, ducking into the alcove of a doorway so a couple could pass. I pushed Kolt behind me so his imposing figure would be less noticeable. Still, I wasn’t crazy about the curious looks we were getting.
As much as I tried to steer us away from the sounds of crowds, it felt like we were going deeper and deeper into a maze. I’d lost all sense of direction or even if we were still heading away from the prison.
“I think soldiers are behind us,” Kolt said.
“Why do you…?” I started to ask before I heard it—heavy boots pounding the ground accompanied by barked orders. He was right. They were closing in from behind.
My pulse jackknifed as I hurried forward, leading us closer to the sound of people laughing and jeering. I should have been trying to avoid crowds, but the alternative was soldiers, so crowds it would have to be.
The next narrow street was packed with people, and I hesitated for a beat. Kolt walked into me, his body a strange mixture of hard, warm muscle and damp fabric.
“Keep moving,” he husked, bending his head low so that his mouth buzzed my ear. “The crowd will provide cover.”
I wasn’t sure if they could hide his bulk, but Kolt bent down, curling around me from behind so that his head no longer poked above everyone else’s.
We allowed the surge of people to carry us forward, even though I wasn’t sure where we were going with the throngs of locals.
I peered ahead, spotting tall doors leading to some kind of stadium or theatre.
My chest tightened. Once we were inside, we’d be trapped. I spied an alley that ran beside the building, and my gaze snagged on the symbol that had been etched into the bench. I took it as a sign and maneuvered us through the crush of people until we were spit out into the alley.
I didn’t bother to look behind and track the approaching soldiers. I hurried down the dank, narrow space that reeked of fetid water and urine and prayed it wasn’t a dead end.
I was so focused on getting away from the crowd, I almost ran past the open door. Stopping, I spotted something painted above the door. It was that symbol again.
I glanced inside. Racks of clothes, huge painted canvases propped against a wall, and the heady scent of too much perfume. Whatever the symbol meant, I had a feeling it was a good omen.
“In here.” I ducked through the door, waited for Kolt to follow me, and then closed the door behind us.
I wasn’t sure if we’d stumbled into the back of a clothing shop or the home of an artistic eccentric, but it was safer than being outside. Sinking onto a canvas sack filled with who knew what, I heaved out a breath.
“What now?” Kolt asked.
I suddenly realized that muffled voices echoed somewhere overhead, along with the thunking of feet on floorboards.
Were we under the arena? Then I looked more closely at the clothes on the racks.
These weren’t ordinary garments. The racks held garish costumes, elaborate masks, and even armor, although a cursory glance told me that it wasn’t real.
“I think we’re in a theatre,” I whispered.
“A what?”
I breathed in the aroma of face powder and perfume, which tickled my nose but was still an improvement over the smell of the cell. “A place where they put on plays. You know, entertainment.”
Kolt made a sound in his throat, and I didn’t know if it was disapproval or confusion.
The canvas sack under me sagged, so I stood and walked to the racks of clothes. “The good news is that we should be able to find you something to wear.”
Kolt poked a feathered headdress. “I do not think these garments will make me less conspicuous.”
I grinned at the idea of him in purple feathers.
“Well, not that.” I pawed through the clothing until I reached a section containing what appeared to be uniforms. I picked a dark blue jumpsuit that had stripes on the sleeves and reminded me of a flight suit I’d seen Imperial pilots wear. “This could work.”
He took it from me and frowned. “You wish me to wear all this fabric?”
I fought the urge to roll my eyes. “I know you Vandar badasses like to run around half naked, but we need you covered.”
He narrowed his gaze at the costume. “It might fit.”
“Just try it.” I held up a pink and green fairy costume. “Unless you’d rather wear this.”
He gave me a scathing look as he draped the costume over the nearest rack and took the blasters from his belt. Then he unhooked his belt and dropped his kilt before I could look away.
Fuck me.
I wasn’t even sure if I’d said that out loud or not. I was too distracted by the enormous cock hanging between his legs to notice anything else. It even had the same dark swirls that covered his chest, which I registered as interesting beneath the low buzz of shock and desire that filled my head.
When I snapped out of the haze, I realized he’d asked me something.
I managed to wrench my gaze back to his face. “What? Um, yeah, I think the cut looks better.”
“That is not what I asked you.” He tilted his head ever so slightly. “I asked if you could take one of the blasters in case someone comes through the door while I’m changing.”
I snatched a blaster from where he’d placed them on a stack of crates and swung it toward the door, finally exhaling.
This was better, I thought as I listened to him pull on the jumpsuit and pointed the blaster at the door. At the very least, my heart now had a chance to beat normally again.
A low growl of frustration made me glance back. “Everything okay?”
“There is no hole for my tail.”
I turned, pointing the blaster down as he stood with the jumpsuit pulled up to his waist with the sleeves dangling to each side. “That’s good. We want to hide your tail.” I gestured in the general direction of his crotch. “Just tuck it down one side.”
“Tuck it down?”
I wanted to tell him he’d clearly managed to tuck his cock down the right side of the pants, but there was no way I was going to say that out loud. “Pick a side and put the tail down that pants leg.”
He grumbled as he readjusted himself, but he was soon jamming his arms through the sleeves and fastening the front of the suit.
Shockingly, he looked pretty normal. Apart from the fact that the jumpsuit was like a second skin on him and left not one thing to the imagination, he didn’t look nearly as Vandar.
I tapped my chin as I eyed him, then I put down the blaster and snatched a prop weapons belt from the rack and looped it around his waist. That way the bulges in front and back weren’t as instantly noticeable. “That’s better.”
“What about you?” he asked, flicking his eyes to the racks.
To humor him, I tugged a bright red cape off a hanger and threw it around my shoulders. “Better?”
Before he could answer, a man with spiky orange hair and a clipboard hurried up with an exasperated sigh. “You two! On stage. Now!”