Chapter 2 #3
Drakkal hammered his right fist into the side of Nostrus’s head.
The volturian swayed. A second blow had the volturian’s knees buckling.
After the third blow, only Drakkal’s hold on the volturian’s shattered hand kept Nostrus up.
Drakkal struck his opponent one more time—mostly because it felt satisfying—before prying the blaster from the volturian’s limp hold and letting him collapse.
Murgen, with eyes so wide they seemed about to burst from their sockets, backed away from Drakkal. He lifted his arms and reached for his holocom, which still displayed the controls for the terran’s restraints.
Leaping over the unconscious Nostrus, Drakkal lashed out, caught hold of Murgen’s holocom, and tore the device off the durgan’s wrist. Murgen staggered backward with a quivering cry and slammed into the wall hard enough to send a jolt through his entire body.
Drakkal tossed the holocom aside, switched Nostrus’s blaster into his right hand, and continued his advance on Murgen. He thrust his cybernetic arm forward, grabbing the durgan by his fleshy throat and pinning him against the wall. Drakkal jammed the barrel of the blaster against Murgen’s cheek.
“Rude?” Drakkal growled. “I’m not going to let a gresh navari like you call me rude after the way you’ve behaved.”
Murgen’s lips quavered, releasing a series of stammering, unintelligible sounds.
“Suddenly don’t have much to say? I should’ve done this thirty-five minutes ago.” Drakkal leaned his face closer to Murgen’s. “You ready to listen for once in your life?”
Swallowing thickly, Murgen nodded as much as Drakkal’s hold allowed.
“You’re selling me the terran. One hundred thousand. Since you’re no longer receiving the ID chip, I’ll add the advance you paid on top of the price.”
Murgen’s eyes somehow rounded further. “That’s…that’s…a-an insult, an outrage, a-a—”
Drakkal tightened his left hand, silencing Murgen. “Big picture, Foltham. One hundred thousand, your advance, and your life. She’s leaving with me whether you agree or not.”
Murgen gasped and sputtered, struggling to respond. Drakkal allowed it to continue for several seconds before easing his grip.
“All right,” Murgen croaked. “I accept. I-I agree. Sh-she’s yours!”
Those words triggered another wave of rage in Drakkal. The terran was already his; Murgen had no say in that, no right to declare it. This was just another example of the merchant’s inherent arrogance.
Drakkal wanted to pull the trigger. He’d taken many lives in his time; what was one more? Murgen Foltham had very likely harmed a lot of people apart from the ones in these cells.
But the uproar it would cause… Foltham’s death would get the Eternal Guard involved, and Drakkal had undoubtedly been captured on the manor’s surveillance system. Murgen Foltham’s wrongdoings would not shield Drakkal from repercussions—not after the merchant was dead.
But they could while Murgen was alive. The revelation of a private, illegal zoo—including sapient captives—would prove costly in a multitude of ways, and people like Murgen cared about their wealth above all else. It was the only sort of loss they understood.
Still, it took a considerable amount of Drakkal’s willpower to loosen his hold on Murgen’s throat. That willpower was dragged through the crimson haze of Drakkal’s rage in the process, and he nearly succumbed to his instinctual drive to protect his terran by eliminating this threat.
“This is all between you and me, Murgen. Understand? That’s the only way I keep quiet about your collection. You give her up and you get to keep everything else.” Growling, Drakkal stepped back, pulling Murgen by his neck before heaving him aside.
With a choked cry, Murgen stumbled forward and fell heavily onto hands and knees.
Drakkal turned toward Murgen, aiming the blaster at him. “Lie face down.”
The sputtering durgan seemed about to protest. He twisted to look up at Drakkal, and his eyes widened when they stopped on the blaster. Breathing heavily and grunting with the effort, Murgen lowered himself onto his belly.
“Don’t move,” Drakkal ordered. Keeping the blaster directed at Murgen—and the still unmoving Nostrus—Drakkal eased back to the discarded holocom. He flicked his gaze toward the terran as he crouched.
Though she couldn’t change her position, she had changed her expression. Wariness remained in the hard set of her mouth and eyebrows, but the new gleam in her eyes suggested hopefulness—or perhaps, more accurately, the recognition of an opportunity.
Drakkal held her gaze as he picked up the holocom from the floor. Fortunately, the screen hadn’t locked. Adjusting his hold on the blaster, he studied the restraint controls for a few moments.
A simple flick of his finger across the appropriate option was all it took to deactivate the invisible tethers.
She stumbled forward as the tension on her restraints vanished.
Remaining upon her feet, she turned toward Drakkal, one arm raised to shield her breasts while she cradled her belly with her opposite hand.
Drakkal returned his attention to the controls; unlocking the restraints wasn’t quite as straight forward as releasing their tethers.
There was a dull thwump from near the terran.
When Drakkal looked back at her, she was standing a little straighter, and the light in her gaze had shifted to say What?. He flicked his eyes down; though she hadn’t moved from her spot, Nostrus was now laid on his side rather than his front, still unconscious.
One corner of Drakkal’s mouth twitched up.
“You’re making a mistake,” Murgen said, voice strained. “Letting her loose is stupid, and crossing me is even more foolhardy!”
“Still trying to talk big?” Drakkal asked as he looked back at the holocom controls. “Guess you have more balls than I thought. Let me tell you what else is stupid—threatening the person who’s holding the blaster. You agreed to our deal.”
“Under duress! That…that’s illegal!”
Drakkal selected the option to unlock the restraints. With several simultaneous clicks, the cuffs around the terran’s neck, wrists, and ankles unfastened and clattered to the floor when she shook them off.
“Is that really your argument?” Drakkal asked. He stalked forward and settled a foot on Murgen’s back, extending his toe claws as he leaned his weight on that leg. Shuffling the holocom and blaster between his hands, he quickly shrugged off his jacket and tossed it to the terran.
She caught it and stared at Drakkal with narrowed eyes for a second before pulling the jacket on and zipping the front.
The garment dwarfed her, making her appear even smaller.
The hem, which came to Drakkal’s waist, hung to her knees, and the sleeves dangled well past her hands until she rolled them up.
Something about the sight rekindled Drakkal’s earlier desire. This terran in his clothing—and knowing she wore nothing beneath it—was the most erotic, arousing image he’d ever seen.
But the insistent protective instinct she’d awoken in him was more powerful than his lust. Keeping his left hand free, he removed his foot from Murgen’s neck and grasped the back of the durgan’s shirt.
He hauled Murgen up and tossed him backward.
The durgan landed in a sitting position against the wall with a startled grunt.
Drakkal crouched near Murgen, keeping the blaster aimed at him. “If I don’t let my friends try to argue ethics during illicit activities, I’m definitely not going to listen to you blather about the rules. Owning people is illegal, zhe’gaash. Lift your arm.”
Lips quivering, Murgen hesitantly lifted his right arm.
Drakkal glanced at the terran over his shoulder. “Clamp that collar around his arm.”
The female bent and picked up the collar. When she straightened, she approached Murgen without a hint of fear in her expression. If Drakkal was correctly reading the fire in her eyes and the slight upward slant of her lips, she was taking satisfaction in this.
She clamped the collar around Murgen’s raised arm.
Drakkal shifted over to Nostrus and quickly removed the volturian’s holocom. He crushed it in his cybernetic hand and tossed it aside. “Now get the others on our favorite volturian.”
Hand on her belly, the terran squatted and gathered the cuffs. She secured a pair around the volturian’s wrists and paused to tug off the volturian’s boots before closing the remaining manacles around his ankles. That done, she stepped into Nostrus’s boots, covering her little feet.
Drakkal’s smirk grew more despite the seriousness of the situation.
Once the terran had stepped away from Nostrus, Drakkal accessed Murgen’s holocom again.
“What are you doing?” Murgen demanded.
“Ordering lunch,” Drakkal answered.
The lights on the restraints came on when Drakkal activated them.
Murgen grunted as his arm was forced back against the wall.
Nostrus stirred as he slid across the floor, dragged by the cuffs on his limbs.
Both the volturian and the durgan were forced into upright positions, their restraints locking into place against the wall—close enough to each other that their bodies were pressed together.
Nostrus groaned as his eyelids fluttered open, head lolling.
Drakkal fished a credit chip out of his pocket—unmarked and untraceable, the only sort he used—and briefly linked it to his own holocom to load it with credits.
The read out ticked up to one hundred and eighty-thousand credits.
He flicked the credit chip onto the floor in front of Murgen. “Your payment. She’s mine now. Forget that, and there will be consequences. Let this be proof—you’re not untouchable.”