Page 67 of Sold to the Alien Smugglers

Yet, I know it’s not. From the way the three Aurelians are standing, it’s veryclearlynot a routine request – and the fact that ‘the women’ were demanded to be brought along makes this invitation even more sinister.

Marcel shakes his head slowly, confirming my fears. I wince – but press on.

“We saw a ship approaching,” I gesture towards the viewport in the bedroom. “It was coming in to dock.”

Lucius holsters the hilt of his own Orb-Blade and turns to me.

“What did it look like?”

His eyes are uncharacteristically wide. Out of the three of them, Lucius is the one who always seemed the most difficult to push off kilter. I imagine he’d faced death so many times, he’d learned to laugh at it.

But he’s not laughing now. Seeing these three Aurelians react like this frightens me. They’re normally so composed – implacable, and fearless. Hell, I watched them cut the head off a Toad guard right here on this ship, unafraid of the consequences. They faced down that scarred Bullfrog who so desperately wanted to purchase me as if they had ice in their veins.

If these three warriors are worried, then Tessa and I should be terrified.

“Thin,” I describe the vessel we’d seen. “Expensive. It was flanked by at least a dozen attack ships. Whoever is inside it, they must be bloody well important.”

“Fuck!”

It’s Lucius’s voice.

“Another Finger. Another Gods-Cursed Finger, I know it. Oblog’s got a guest of honor – two Fingers of the King’s left hand.”

He turns to his battle-brothers.

“But what can it have to do with us? What should we do?”

I hate hearing this confident, cocky Aurelian sounding so uncertain.

Marcel sits down heavily at the table. His posture suggests he’s bearing the weight of the universe across his massive shoulders.

“You’re scaring her.” It’s Quint, his rusty voice barely audible. He gives me a long, lingering look. “Everything’s going to be okay, Jamie – I promise you. I’m getting you off this ship.”

It’s the most I’ve ever heard Quint speak all at once, and it’s the first assurance he’s given me. Before now he’d surveyed me almost like I was a housecat, and he has allergies.

But now I’ve heard it from the horse’s mouth – he professes to be as protective of me as Marcel and Lucius do.

I know it’s stupid, but I actually feel reassured by Quint’s words. I must clearly be important to him if he was willing to break his near permanent silence.

Then again, his words don’t change our circumstances. The five of us are trapped on a ship owned by one of themost terrible creatures in the universe, surrounded by scheming Toads and sadistic Bullfrogs.

Nevertheless – somehow – Quint’s words still reassure me.

Marcel and Lucius have stowed theirs, but Quint keeps the hilt of his Orb-Blade in his hand as he stands there – ready to activate it at a heartbeat’s notice.

“Why don’t we leave?” He suggests. “Our Reaver is halfway across the ship. We’ll have between fifteen seconds and a minute before the alarm is sounded – maybe more, if we’re lucky.” He tightens his grip on his Orb-Blade. “Then, we just cut our way through the Toads.”

Lucius shakes his head. “They could get hurt.”

He gestures towards Tessa and myself. As much as I want to tell him I can look after my own damned self, I know that isn’t true. Not here, in the heart of a Toad mothership.

While Quint’s plan sounds like suicide to me, I get the sense that if it was just the three of them, they’d be wading through an army of Toad and Bullfrogs already – leaving countless bodies in their wake.

However, with Tessa and I slowing the warriors down, who knows how far they’d get…

Marcel stands back up. There’s a sudden finality to his stance – the way he stands taller, with his shoulders wider. Whatever our course of action, he’s committed to it. The towering warrior turns to me, looking me up and down appraisingly.

“We don’t have time to plan a clean escape, so we’ll have to risk a dirty one. We must go to the meeting and see what they want. Are you willing to attend?”

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