Page 10 of Alien's Luck
Carla felt herself relax as they walked onto the plaza, the stress just melting from her muscles. Running for your life had that effect. “How much money did we lose tonight?”
Poppy’s quills went back. “It could not be avoided. Some nights, we take a loss.”
“Yeah, not about that. I want a hot shower. Do we have enough credits?” Cold showers were free. Hot water costs extra. She needed a shower badly—mud and sweat made that non-negotiable—but she’d really like a hot shower.
“If you are quick.”
“Taking your time is the point of a hot shower,” she grumbled, but fair enough. They didn’t have money to waste, and Tavat was pretty pissed. It was one thing to try to get the better of someone. People expected it here. Frankly, if you didn’t try to cheat them, they were insulted. But Carla embarrassed Tavat by throwing that drink, which was unforgivable, and now they had to keep their heads down for a few days. No work, no money. No long hot showers.
Carla mentally calculated how to squeeze the most out of five minutes of hot water. She could scrub her feet in a basin of cold water, no problem. Getting the rest of her soapy meant moretime standing under the hot water like a zombie, and she wanted zombie shower time.
She made it halfway across the plaza when a sharp sting on her shoulder made her slap her hand over the spot, like swatting a bug.
Then her legs went out from underneath her. They were numb, just gone. There was a moment that felt like a thousand years but was likely two heartbeats of confusion before her falling body slammed into the pavement. She caught herself, palms scraping against the dirty stone pavers.
Panic filled her. Why couldn’t she feel her legs? A tranquilizer, if she had to guess, and a fast -acting one because her head already felt muddy.
She shouted a warning, her voice slurring. Poppy turned to face her and staggered back a step.
Scales for the win.
Carla would have cheered if she could make any noise other than gurgling. Shooting her with a puny little tranq dart wouldn’t penetrate her scales; it’d only made her angry.
Poppy roared in fury—that was her dragon bestie—and rushed toward someone Carla couldn’t see. She tried to push herself up to stand but quickly gave up. Her legs wouldn’t cooperate. Rolling over to her side was hard enough, let alone pushing herself into a sitting position.
It was quite the scene. Poppy wrestled one of Tavat’s henchmen. A crowd had gathered to watch. Absolutely no one bothered to help. Typical.
“Fuckoffyafuckers!” she shouted, her words a jumbled mess.
The crowd mostly ignored her. So far. If Poppy went down, she was alone and immobilized. Easy pickings.
Hiding seemed smart. Carla flopped onto her stomach, dragging herself forward with her arms, determined to crawl away. She was afraid. Nothing wrong with fear. Fear kept youalive. Fight or flight was an instinct for a reason. Poppy was all fight, and Carla very much was flight.
A pair of strong hands lifted her from the ground. She knew at once it wasn’t Poppy. The hold was all wrong, slinging her around like a naughty kitten instead of cradling her like a football.
She caught a glimpse of an unconscious Poppy sprawled on the ground, a white cloth mask fastened over her nose and mouth. This was bad. The kind of bad that you don’t survive.
“Hello, human,” a Nakkoni man said. Carla recognized him as one of Tavat’s goons.
Carla tried to spit in his face but only drooled on herself.
“None of that,” he said, covering her mouth and nose with a square cloth.
An acrid aroma made her eyes water. She wanted to tear the cloth off her face, but her arms were just dead weight she that couldn’t lift, and her eyes grew heavier…
CHAPTER 3
ARI
Tavat’s minion turned the blaster on Ari, never losing his grip on the female slung over his shoulder. “Do not approach,” the male warned.
Ari held up his hands, as if surrendering. He could shift his skin to his stone form, allowing him to resist a simple blast as he rushed the minion. However, such a maneuver endangered the unconscious Carla. Inadvertently injuring the female in an effort to rescue her was unacceptable. If he could not use his strength, he would use his words.
“My friend?—”
“I’m not your friend,” the minion said, cutting off Ari’s very charming overture of friendship.
“Indeed, but perhaps we can come to a mutually beneficial arrangement.”
