Page 62 of Zalis
And then… nothing. All that talk about not letting the weasel walk away and Zalis just stood there while the weasel got a hot drink.
“Do something,” she said, keeping her voice low.
“Patience. The ideal opportunity will present itself.”
Gemma doubted that. Zalis couldn’t walk up to the weasel and politely ask to put a tracker on him. Nor could he just punch the guy, even if he deserved it. Well, he physically could, but polite society discourages random violence and laws, blah blah blah.
Well, no one would ever call Gemma polite, and she definitely wasn’t one for standing around and doing nothing.
“I could use a drink,” she announced.
As she approached the stall, Niklas was leaving, drink in hand. He did not look her way or pay her any mind. He certainly didn’t notice when Gemma stuck out her cane, causing him to trip and fall to his knees, spilling his drink.
It felt good. Really good.
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” she said, her voice flat. Acting wasn’t her strong suit, all right? With him on his knees in a puddle of something hot and sugary, the urge to continue whacking him with her cane was strong. So strong.
“You tripped me.” Before Niklas could continue, Zalis was there helping him to his feet. Before long, he was on his way, grumbling about clumsy tourists.
“You should not have done that,” Zalis said.
“I’m impulsive, but you knew that.” She wouldn’t apologize. “It feels wrong just letting him walk away.”
Zalis raised his arm, displaying the screen on his comm unit. A small glyph blinked and moved on the screen. “He is leaving the station. Let us follow.”
A rare moment of adult responsibility hit Gemma. “We’ll miss our ride back to the ship.”
“There are more shuttles.”
“Do you mean shuttles going specifically to our ship or in general, like shuttles exist and we’ll find a ride? Because while I really want to go kick that guy in the balls, I also don’t wantto get left behind. Do Sangrin even have balls? Sorry, that’s rude.” Gemma flapped her hands, trying to shake off the spike of adrenaline. When she saw the weasel, she went cold. No panic. No anger. Tripping him with the cane had felt nice, empowering even, but now that he was gone, she was trembling.
“May I touch you?” Zalis asked. She nodded. His hand resting on her shoulder helped ground her. “There are hourly shuttles to theJudgment. We will not be left behind.”
She let out a slow breath. “Okay.”
“You said our ship,” he said with absolute pride in his voice.
Yeah, she had. “Don’t get excited. It’s where I keep all my stuff.”
He grinned, flashing his fangs. Gemma braced herself for relentless teasing, about his romantic prowess, how she could not resist his charms, but it never came. Instead, he gently steered her through the crowd.
“What are you going to do?” she asked, finally asking the obvious.
“What must be done.”
“That’s not as enigmatic as you think. If you’re choosing violence, you don’t have to beat around the bush.”
“Are bushes invasive on Earth? I have heard this idiom before,” he said.
“Are you cracking a joke right now?” Gemma searched his expression for an answer.
His lips were pressed tight, his jaw clenched. Tension radiated from him.
Nope. Not joking.
They exited the station onto a busy road. Sleek, shiny personal transport pods waited at the curb. They weren’t quite cars, more like a self-driving teardrop on wheels. Zalis pressed his hand to a panel and the door slid open. He input their destination, or shared a link to the tracking device, something technical. Gemma didn’t ask and he didn’t offer to explain. The pod glided away smoothly.
“I will do what you wish,” he eventually said.
