Page 26 of Trak
The sounds of crashing and yells and heavy footsteps made everyone freeze.
“They know I’m here.” Anna snatched up her weapon and lunged for the rear of the dressing room, where there must be another exit. But Gitza used six of her arms to grab and haul her back, then used one of her free fingers to press to her lips. She bustled Annainto an armoire stuffed with costumes, then barked out another order and everyone scattered back to their vanities.
Anna held still behind the stifling curtain of garments. She could see through a fluff of a sheer sleeve. The door slid open and three Belka-Tus muscled their way in. Gitza stood there, pretending to be in the act of pinning her hair. She sent them reproachful glares and spoke to them, but not in the grunts they had used.
After a brief discussion, the Belka-Tus moved roughly through the dressing room, looking at every dancer. Apparently the male worker who had stopped her had told the Belka-Tus where she had gone. Anna thought about shooting them as they searched, but they would undoubtedly return fire. It wasn’t worth the risk of harming the dancers. Her pursuers overturned a few things, to be assholes, clearly, and then left through the stage entrance in search of her. Anna crept from her hiding spot, weapon clutched in her hand. Gitza used all eight hands to pat her arms and fold her into the strangest hug she’d ever had. It was like being embraced by a large group, without all the bodies.
A great crash boomed through the dressing room. It came from the theater. Anna heard the unmistakable roar of a male. She’d never heard that particular noise before, but she knew it was him. Trak had found her and he wasnotpleased.
Anna turned wide eyes to Gitza, who wrung all four sets of hands. “He’s here.”
She darted for the stage door, where dancers and stagehands were fleeing. Anna burst on stage and through the holographic curtain that shimmered in a shower of glittering multicolored lights made to look like a psychedelic rainbow.
Patrons had begun arriving and taking their seats. Some were running for the exits while others were frozen in place, either in fear or fascination. In the center of the theater, amidst the rubble of smashed-up seats, stood Trak. Or rather, aformof Trak.
He was bigger than before, with muscles bulging where she hadn’t thought muscles existed. Red striations spidered out all over his skin, glowing red and menacing. Most dramatic were the pair of red, fiery horns that emerged from above his temples and curved up over his head. They pulsed and wavered as though they were made of living lava. His tail swished behind him like an angry feline. He was as fearsome as he was magnificent. Anna couldn’t have dragged her gaze away from him if a bomb hit the theater.
“Anna,” he bellowed.
“Um.” All eyes had turned to her as she stood there in a dirty bodysuit, holding a stolen gun. “Hi, Trak.”
His eyes were different, too. Red flames seemed to leap from them, extinguishing only when he blinked, then flaming again. He began moving toward her, knocking chairs out of his way. He was burning everything he touched. She could see the sizzle on the chairs and the streams of smoke. It smelled like cooked electronics in there. His tattoos glowed blue against the red streaks on his skin. He looked like a demon out for vengeance, which, Anna supposed, he was.
She wondered what he would do when he reached her, as he would surely incinerate her if he touched her. If this was a permanent condition, it would make their association pretty tricky.
Movement caught her eye at the back of the theater. Her gaze snapped to the all too familiar shape of a Belka-Tu moving through the path of destruction Trak had made. It was Giru Limpa. He snuck closer, stepping over smoldering bits of furniture and smashed beverages. A weapon exactly like the type Anna held was clutched in his hand.
She watched in slow motion as the alien raised it. A hateful look twisted his features. Trak had no idea of the danger behind him. Going on instinct, and years of training, and the survival skills she’d spent a lifetime grappling with, Anna dropped to one knee, aimed her weapon and shot. Her aim was perfect. The green laser hit Giru Limpa in the middle of his forehead. The alien went down in a big green lump. He didn’t move.
Big-Red-Flaming Trak turned slowly. He gazed down at the body of his enemy. The gun was still in the Belka-Tu’s hand.
Anna’s knees were shaking. All the adrenaline and energy and courage that she’d needed since being abducted drained away. She numbly took in the destruction in poor Gitza’s theater and eased herself off the edge. Stumbling toward Trak, she held back tears. When she got within a few feet of him, he held out his hands. “I won’t hurt you.” His voice sounded like crackling embers. “Please, don’t be afraid.”
“I’m not,” she said, breathless. “I could never be afraid of you.”
A look of pure relief flowed over his fierce, fiery features.
“You mustn’t come closer.” Heat poured off his glowing body. “I am too hot to touch.”
Anna hugged her body, still holding the gun. She may never let go of it. “Okay.”
“Are you okay?” He frowned, eyes narrowing to red, glowing slits. Those pointed eyeteeth had grown to long, terrifying fangs. “Were you harmed?”
She looked into his flaming eyes and wondered how he could see like that. “No. I’m…fine.” Really? No, that wasn’t true. Her lover and the father of the child she carriedwas a massive boiling rage monster who was burning the carpet under his feet.
“How are your pants not burning?” she asked, of all the inane things.
“They’re made to stretch and withstand my heat,” he replied, “when this happens.”
Anna felt perilously close to tears. “Will you…go back to normal?” Whatever that was.
“Yes.”
She sighed in relief. “When?”
“I don’t know.” He looked down at his hands. “It takes a great deal of fear and pain to make a Virilian transform to this form.”
She took another step toward him, despite the heat, wishing she could fall against him and be held in his arms. “Oh?”
