Chapter 16
GEMMA
Despite the sunlight filtering in through the metal shutters, Gemma needed a moment to adjust to the gloom.
The space was depressing. An abandoned shop: dust coated the glass counters that ran along both walls. A jewelry store, maybe? Sun-faded velvet lined the cases.
Crime didn’t pay, apparently.
Zalis headed to the light at the back of the store.
No sooner had he crossed the threshold than a gun was pressed to the side of his head.
“Drop the knife,” Niklas ordered.
Zalis complied, holding up his empty hands. Gemma crouched down behind a display case, for all the good it would do her. The cane clattered to the floor.
“You’re not as stealthy as you think,” Niklas said, turning toward Gemma’s noise.
Good job, Gemmy-bean.
“Tell me, when did you notice me?” Zalis asked, sounding genuinely curious.
“You think I wouldn’t notice you hacking into my security system? Big mistake.”
“Ah, then you did not notice me at all.”
“You.” The gun waved from Zalis to her. “Stand up. Hands up.”
Using the cane, Gemma pushed herself to her feet.
“Not that. Leave it,” Niklas barked.
“I can’t. I need it to walk.” Not completely true, but the cane was excellent for whacking against shins, and she didn’t want to lose that option.
Niklas wasn’t buying it. “You seem to be doing just fine. Get back here. Now.”
Holding up both hands, she eased into the room. Her eyes never left Niklas and Zalis. Panic and worry had vanished, leaving her cold and focused. She’d fall apart as soon as this was over, but that was okay, because she knew Zalis would hold her hand until the anxiety calmed down.
Until then, she was going to explore her villain era.
“Tell me what you want or I’ll pull the trigger,” Niklas said. “Mahdfel are fast but not faster than a blaster.”
“What I want? Oh wow, where to start?” Gemma turned in a slow circle, taking in the dingy room in all its glory.
“I’m having an existential crisis about what it means to be a morally good person versus a law-abiding person.
Tricky stuff, you know? Some of the biggest assholes I know are perfectly law-abiding but they’re not good.
Heavy stuff. A bit too heavy for the circumstance, so let’s talk about your decor. ”
“My decor?” She could see him calculating just how unhinged she was. Mildly unhinged, but still mostly concerned about survival and feared him. Extremely unhinged meant she had zero fucks.
Or had a secret weapon.
She did—Zalis.
“I thought crime paid,” Gemma said, drifting to a desk at the back of the office. “The building’s outside is rough but that could be to keep the property tax low and the thieves away. If you’re not too flashy, you won’t get the wrong attention, am I right?”
No response.
“I’m right.” She dragged her finger along the shelf behind the desk and held it up to show the dust. She tutted and gently shook her head from side to side.
“But the inside should be a flex. Make a splash. Brag about how good you are at business with expensive furniture and gold paint. This?” She picked up a plaster figure on the desk.
She had no idea what animal it represented but the paint job was sloppy.
“This is sad. This screams failure. Do you enjoy looking like a failure?”
“I’m not—”
“You know, when you didn’t recognize me, I was hurt,” she said, hopping up to sit on the desk. “Isn’t that weird? That I needed some sort of validation from the man who left me for dead sitting on top of a bomb.”
Niklas squinted his eyes, then he grinned. “The twin. You survived.”
“Obviously.”
“You were a special order.”
“I was what?” That made her feel some sort of way. Mostly icky. Being the victim of greed and opportunity was somehow more tolerable than knowing she had been requested. She needed a hot shower to clean away the ick.
“I didn’t want to leave you and all those females like that. So much good inventory wasted.” Niklas dipped his head slightly in Zalis’ direction. “I see you wasted no time selling yourself.”
“Oh no, you don’t get to slut -shame me.” Acting before she could question herself, she flung the plaster figure at his head.
With that moment’s distraction, Zalis elbowed the man and stepped away. He grabbed the arm holding the gun and twisted, forcing Niklas to his knees.
Brutal. She loved it.
“Technically, you left her with a mine,” Zalis said, not even panting.
“Bomb. Mine. Same difference,” Niklas replied, his voice cracking as Zalis twisted his arm.
“Details matter.” He produced another knife—seriously, those boots were a literal walking armory—and held it to Niklas’ throat.
“Do you know who I am?” Niklas rasped, repeating the well-worn line uttered by every arrogant asshole ever who never had to face real consequences.
“This is exhausting,” Gemma said. “I can’t believe I’m on the other side of the galaxy and the bad guys have the same lines. You have zero imagination and zero taste.”
He struggled against Zalis’ hold, which was rather optimistic of him. “I can get you anything you want. Anything. Females? That one is broken. I can get you a fresh one.”
Gross.
“Gemma is not broken,” Zalis said, holding him with ease.
“Ah, that’s sweet, baby,” she said.
Niklas made more idle threats. You won’t get away with this. You have no idea who you’re messing with. Blah blah blah. Seriously, these guys all had the same script.
“Screw justice and being morally good.” Gemma wasn’t sure what disgusted her more, the crippling lack of imagination or his arrogance. Both, probably. He’d never face justice. He had connections, leverage, and the cash to burn.
She met Zalis’ gaze. “I want vengeance. Make him hurt.”
ZALIS
Zalis did not enjoy violence. He had seen his share of battle, particularly on Earth.
The experience had left him with a distaste for it.
Too loud, too messy. He much preferred his work with technology, which was calming and quiet.
The other warriors could beat their chests and lock their horns together.
He would, however, make an exception for this piece of filth.
A solid blow to the chest and Zalis felt ribs crack.
Another punch slightly lower to the back and Niklas would urinate blood.
A quick jab to the face and the nose broke, sending blood gushing down his front.
He tore away the ridiculous chains from the male’s horns, tossed them to the floor.
Just as quick, he grabbed the now bare horns and flung the male across the room, sending him crashing into a shelving unit.
Unsteady on his feet, Niklas managed to turn himself around before a precisely placed stomp to the foot and a less precise kick to the knee sent him back to the ground. A kick to the chest broke his collarbone.
All survivable with a long recovery.
Zalis tempered the power of his blows, holding back his true strength. Gemma asked for him to be hurt, not killed. If he allowed rage to fuel him, he could end the male with a strong blow to the jaw or a snap of the neck.
Even holding back, Zalis moved quickly. Niklas did not have time to react before ending in a mewling pile on the floor, blood pouring from his nose and soaking his shirt.
Zalis loomed over him. It would be nothing to end this male.
No remorse. No questioning his rogue actions.
This male was a blight. Countless people had lost their lives because of him, because of the industry he serviced.
Killing him would save people. It would be the most efficient course of action.
Gemma watched, a hand covering her mouth as if in horror but her eyes wide, refusing to look away.
His mate had been hardened. Her softer side slipped through occasionally, the cupcakes and whimsical confections, or the way she covertly wiped away tears during an emotional film.
While he felt privileged to see that aspect and understood why she buried it behind a more ferocious mask, he liked her ferocity.
“I should end him,” Zalis said. “It is the only way to stop him from hurting others.”
“Is that true?” Gemma moved off the desk and stepped closer. With her arms behind her back, she leaned down to speak to Niklas. “You haven’t learned your lesson?”
“What lesson is that, you crazy bitch?” He spat, blood hitting Gemma’s shoes.
A boot to the back knocked the male to the floor. The same boot kept him in place.
“That lesson,” Gemma said, her voice artificially sweet, “is that abducting people and selling them is bad.”
His face pressed to the floor muffled his response but he agreed.
“And you’ll get a new business. Run a numbers game or an insurance scam. Plan a jewel heist. The world is your slimy little oyster,” Gemma said.
“Yes. I’ll find a new occupation.”
Zalis doubted that but the male’s answer seemed to satisfy Gemma. “You can let him go.”
There was one thing he had to do first. He crouched down, gripped the nearest horn, and twisted until it cracked in half.