Page 21 of Eat My Moon Dust
I bit my lip as angry fire boiled in my gut, staring daggers straight through the stupid jerk’s mane. But unlike every other time we’d ever talked, I needed to stay cool. Focused. I had a mission, and Christmas wasn’t gonnacraftitself, at least not now that I didn’t even have cache to replenish my food bay with.
I put on my big girl boots and used a calm, serene voice. “Maybe we can compromise, Hunar. It’s not that big of a project–”
Bizz’t.A glittery spark erupted beneath his little pen tool.
“Fuck!”
Hunar threw down his work and whipped towards me with two right fingers pointed in my face like a human. He stood, chartreuse blood dripping from the back of his hand, and I instantly gasped, both hands up. “Oh my god, are you okay?!”
“I told you I don’t have time. If I did, maybe I’d help, but Zufi is breathing down myfuckingmane, and I can’t juggle it all while you’re nipping at my ankles and telling me to ‘just compromise!’” His tendrils growled low like a crocodile, visibly pulsating with fury, and the hair on my forearms rose in alarm.
I clenched my jaw, eyes stinging. My chest was so tight that my inhale of breath was more of a shuddering hiccup. I wasn’t going to cry, absolutely not. I’d known asking Hunar was a long shot, and now I just knew it was a lost cause.
“Thanks for your time. I know how busy you always are,” I croaked, looking up at the fan swirling meters above us to keep the tears from falling. “Anyway, enjoy the cider. I hope you like it.”
Before he could respond, I turned so he wouldn’t see the fat tear race down my cheek, and I rushed past the lockers.
Defeated.
07
?HUNAR?
As soon as Tinsley disappeared into the shelving, I slumped into one of the break chairs with a groan. My mane fell lifeless around me, ashamed for blowing up in her face. It wasn’t her fault that her reasonable tone of voice had short-circuited my temper. It was Corsa, the way she’d goaded me for years with that syrupy fakeness that made me feel like asking her to give an inch was selfish.
Not to mention the coil withdrawal marching at a steady beat beneath my skin. My fingers and tendril tips tingled, even if I was on meds to mitigate the symptoms. Sure, I’d been strung out on Corsa’s pheromones for years, barely scraping by, but I hadn’t suffered from withdrawal for decades either. A healthier man would’ve been able to bounce back in no time. Me? I was a wreck.
Familiar boots strutted into the engineering lounge as Bajora cocked one hip, gesturing off towards the hangar doors with a piqued expression. “I leave you alone for one lunch break and you yell at one of the humans?”
“It was Tinsley,” I grumbled, leaning my upper elbows against the worn yellow table.
The culinary engineer shrugged. “So?”
Frustration compressed a huff right out of my chest as the vice of guilt tightened on my ribcage. I laced my upper hands together above the table and leaned my forehead against my knuckles. “I can’t handle another fight right now, Bajora, so just leave it.”
“Why should I? Someone has to hold you accountable for being aSkhrooj M’gess Het, and Bree’s not here to do it.”
“What the fuck is that?”
“It’s what Tinsley calls you. Means you’re a killjoy. And she’s right.” He tossed down his bag and powered up the food bay on his workbench with an irritated flick of his finger.
“Corsa’s having some poor boy’s brood and kicked our spats out to make room,” I bit out, baring my teeth.
Bajora turned his shocked stare on me. I sat back in my chair, arms falling limp in my lap as I met his indignant fury with my own numb exhaustion. “I’m in withdrawal and my contract is expiring. I’ll have three spats, no job, and no place to live in the next few weeks.”
“But the pursuit clause was terminated,” he insisted. “None of our contracts expire.”
I nodded to him slowly.“Yoursdon’t expire. Butminedoes.”
“That doesn’t make any sense.”
“You’re a test subject, Piro’s family is loaded, and the others fulfilled the clause. It makes perfect sense.” Silence descended between us as Bajora began to pace. “Zufi had me look over replacement applications when I got the spats’ visas.”
“Chudthibastard,” Bajora spat. He rubbed a hand over his forehead, thinking. “Are you on hectaconorphine at least?”
I nodded. “Got meds from Ezra yesterday.”
He stopped, looking me over with confusion. “A coil that thin should kick the bucket fast.”
