Chapter 6
SIX
Shay absently stirred the unappealing slop in the food tray.
The brown, gravy-like substance contained chunks of unidentifiable gray meat.
She shifted in her chair, which creaked and wobbled slightly beneath her weight; it was in only slightly worse shape than the dinged-up table she was sitting at.
As hungry as she was, she didn’t have much of an appetite—at least not for this crap. But it was all she had on hand.
Wrinkling her nose, she scooped up a spoonful of the food and shoved it in her mouth. She forced herself to chew and swallow the bitter, gelatinous substance, struggling to hold back the threatening rise of bile. She nearly lost the battle.
“Ugh!” She tossed the spoon down and shoved the tray forward as a shudder swept through her entire body. “Sorry, Baby, but even for you, I don’t think I can tolerate that garbage.”
Shay leaned back in the chair. There were places with decent food within walking distance, but she was trying to stretch her credits as far as possible, and her feet were still sore from working and running from the azhera the day before.
At this point, she wasn’t even sure if she had a job to go back to.
She closed her eyes and let her head fall back, releasing a groan.
What the hell am I going to do?
The sudden, insistent sound of the door buzzer startled her from her thoughts.
“What now?” Shay muttered, pushing herself up to her feet. She grabbed the blaster from her belt, which was draped over the other chair, and made her way to the door. Once she was there, she raised her voice and said, “I already paid your goddamned rent, Vrisk. Go away!”
The buzzer sounded again.
Guess I’m shooting my landlord today.
Rolling her eyes, she slapped the control button. The door slid open with a whoosh. “I said go—oh fuck!”
Shay’s eyes rounded, and she took a step backward, lifting the blaster to aim it at the big azhera standing in front of her.
She’d known he was dangerous. He’d made short work of Nostrus back at Murgen’s and hadn’t seemed concerned by the possibility of running into more guards on their way out, and he’d looked terrifying while he’d chased her yesterday.
But he was also the last person she’d expected to be standing there when she opened the door.
How the hell had he found her?
The azhera raised his hands, displaying his empty palms—one flesh and the other black metal. “Don’t shoot, terran.”
Shay’s eyebrows dipped lower over her narrowed eyes as she took the blaster in a sturdy two-handed grip. “Why the hell not?”
“For starters, it’s rude.”
The azhera’s dry tone and neutral expression left her unable to tell if he was joking or being serious.
Shay tipped her chin down to give him a droll look. “That’s cute coming from you, kitty.”
The azhera’s lips turned down in an annoyed frown, but he quickly returned his expression to its neutral state. His nostrils flared with a slow exhalation. When he inhaled, his slitted pupils dilated, thinning the green irises around them. “Not here to argue. I want to start over.”
“What do you mean start over? You fucking purchased me from that walrus to be your sex slave.”
Something moved behind the azhera. It took her a moment to realize the movement was from his tail. His broad-shouldered frame filled most of the doorframe, leaving little of the corridor visible around him.
“I paid him so he would be forced to accept that you weren’t his anymore. I wasn’t going to keep you as a slave,” he said.
“You expect me to believe that? You were there for a reason, with all that talk about deals and rutting.”
The azhera bared his fangs to release a sigh that was punctuated by a low, brief growl. “He was a client. Didn’t know about his zoo until he brought me down there to show it off. All I wanted was to conclude my business with him and get out, but the zhe’gaash wouldn’t shut his mouth.”
Shay’s brow furrowed. She’d encountered words to which her translator could attribute no meaning, but never in direct conversation like this. “Zee gash?”
“Zhe’gaash,” he corrected. “It’s a word in an ancient Azheran dialect that fell out of common use a long time ago. It’s someone who’s…dishonorable, disgraceful. Cowardly. Those aren’t exactly it, but it’s along those lines.”
She tilted her head, sweeping her gaze over his body.
He was dressed in black pants with reinforced knees and cargo pockets that would’ve fit perfectly with the uniforms of most private security companies and law enforcement divisions back on Earth, and a gray shirt beneath a form-fitting jacket.
Though she couldn’t be sure what anything was made of here, the material of that jacket looked to be leather; it was a dark, rich brown with the slightest hint of red, and it brought out the subtle copper highlights in the fur on his face and mane.
He wore a belt similar to the one she’d stolen from him, its hip holster empty. Though his lower legs from mid-shin down were clad in black leather wraps not unlike the upper portions of combat boots, his feet were bare, and his toes were tipped with wicked looking black claws.
“Deciding whether you want to rob me again or not?” he asked, just as drily as before.
She met his gaze. “Maybe. Some of your other stuff sold for more than I expected.”
He narrowed those intense green eyes and asked in a slightly strained voice, “Did you sell my belt?”
“I think you mean my belt.”
His ears flattened against his head, and he muttered, “Vrek’osh, that was my favorite belt.” Moving slowly, he lifted his right hand and combed his fingers through his dark mane, tugging the fur back. “Look, terran, when I said I wanted to start over, I—”
Shouting from down the hall called the azhera’s attention to the side. From the sound of it, Ostik and Zira were arguing again, like they did most days. Drakkal turned his head toward the disturbance.
Shay found herself studying his strong jawline and admiring the patterns in his fur.
It really was quite appealing. Despite his animalistic traits, she found his appearance far more masculine than bestial.
She was suddenly tempted to reach out and touch his fur to see if it was as soft as it looked.
What the fuck am I thinking?
She was reaching for the door control—meaning to shut it while he was distracted—when he turned his face toward her again. His gaze flicked to her extended hand, and he frowned. Her hand paused. Why did it fucking pause? And why did she feel a little pang of guilt over what she’d been about to do?
“I want to talk. Can I come in?” he asked.
“For real?” she asked. “You really expect me to believe that you weren’t trying to buy me as a sex slave, or that you’re not going to make me pay for robbing you and leaving you naked in an alley?”
He shrugged his right shoulder; she swore she could almost see the play of his powerful muscles through his coat, even though that didn’t seem possible.
“I’ve been naked in worse places. You can keep your gun on me, and I’ll keep distance between us. Whatever makes you feel safe, terran.”
“I’d feel safe if you left.”
He turned his head, glancing first right and then left before swinging his gaze up across the ceiling as though taking in the entirety of the apartment complex. His brows rose questioningly when he returned his gaze to her.
“Yeah, okay, so maybe I don’t feel safe here at all,” she said snidely, “but your being here definitely isn’t making that better. You looked like you wanted to eat my face yesterday!”
His expression darkened. “That’s just how I look, damn it. It’s not my fault!”
“So you’re really trying to tell me that this is all a big misunderstanding because you suffer from RBF?”
“I don’t know what that means.”
Shay snickered. She couldn’t help it.
“Give me a few minutes of your time. In private. If you feel that threatened, you can always shoot me. You wouldn’t be the first.”
“I could shoot you now.”
The azhera nodded. “But you won’t.”
She arched a brow. “You’re so sure about that?”
“I don’t doubt you’re capable. But if you truly thought I was going to harm you, you would’ve shot me in that tunnel weeks ago.”
Shay stared at him for a moment, lips pressed together. Finally, she sighed, took several steps back, and waved him in with the blaster. Her arms were burning from holding it steady for so long, but she for damned sure wasn’t going to point it anywhere but at him. “Get in and shut the door.”
His ears perked slightly. Though it was a relatively subtle change, Shay had the impression that it was the result of deep surprise and delight he was trying to hide.
Keeping his palms raised and facing her, the azhera stepped forward, stopping to press the button and close the door behind him once he was through the doorway.
He seemed even bigger now that he was inside her apartment. Her landlord, Vrisk, was at least half a head taller than this azhera, but she’d bet the azhera could rip that scaly son of a bitch to shreds with his bare hands.
“Weapons?” she asked.
“Only two.” Keeping his left hand raised, he slowly moved his right down to his belt. He flipped open a container behind the empty holster and removed a hilt identical to the one she’d found in the stolen belt. He tossed the hilt onto the floor near her feet.
“And the other?” Shay prompted. It wasn’t just her arms bothering her now; her feet were aching, and that discomfort was slowly working its way up her legs. And that wasn’t even counting all her now-typical pregnancy pains. Without letting the blaster waver, she backed up to the table.
The azhera’s brow furrowed as Shay lifted the utility belt—formerly his belt—off the back of the chair, laid it atop the table, and sat down.
She rested her arms on the table, keeping the blaster trained on him, and stifled the relieved sigh that threatened to escape her.
How could it feel so good just to rest her arms and take some weight off her feet?