Page 17 of Alien's Challenge
“Let the female go,” Faris said.
“No, I don’t think I will.” The man’s breath stank like booze. Cheap booze. “How much for the female?”
“She is not for sale,” Faris answered.
What was wrong with this place?
She adjusted her grip on the knife’s handle, bending her wrist to poke the blade against Mr. Grabby Hands’ stomach. The blade pushed in just far enough to get his attention.
“Let me go or I'll stick this in you,” she said.
Please let me go. I really don’t want blood all over me.
When he failed to respond quickly enough to her satisfaction, she applied more pressure.
He laughed. The four-armed fuckerlaughed.
“You are not the sort to kill a male,” Mr. Grabby Hands said.
Faris stepped right into their personal space, pressing a barrel to the side of the man’s head.
“She may not be, but I am,” he said, his voice colder than the snowstorm outside. “Let the female go or I decorate the floor with your brains.”
“I think we will play cards for the female.” The male did not release her.
Seriously, what was wrong with this place?
The quills went flat on Faris’ head. That couldn’t be good.
“Close your eyes, Alice,” he said, voice now colder than the blizzard outside.
She closed her eyes, there was a pop, something warm splattered her—don’t think about it, just don’t—and she fell to the floor.
Chaos erupted. People jumped to their feet, chairs overturned, and punches were thrown.
“Female, follow me,” Kamron instructed as he crawled under a table. Glass shattered on the floor next to her. Following Kamron might not be the smartest move but it had to be safer than sitting on the floor in the middle of a bar fight.
She shuffled forward, joining him under a table.
“Drink?” He jiggled a flask in her direction. When she declined, he took a long pull.
People hit the ground hard and were slow to pick themselves back up. Cards and tokens littered the floor.
She picked up a silver hexagon-shaped token. “Is this money?”
“Only in this province. That will buy you a meal.”
She shoved it into a pocket. Cash was cash. Even having a single coin made her feel more in control.
The fight showed no signs of stopping. Faris stood at the center of the maelstrom, fending off several attackers with nothing more than his fists and well-placed kicks.
Mr. Grabby Hands moaned on the floor, bleeding heavily from a head wound. He also seemed to be missing an ear.
“He fights like an Imperial soldier,” Kamron said.
“Who? Faris? Is he good?”
Kamron snorted, the frills at the side of his neck fluttering. “When he is done destroying my property, tell your male that I will bill him.”
