Page 15 of Alien's Luck
Carla shrugged one shoulder. This was going nowhere. “How long was I unconscious?”
“Two hours. It is a little after dawn,” he said. Well, he didn’t technically say hours. Translator chips played fast and loose with units of measurement, shifting it to the closestapproximation that Carla’s brain would understand. Yet they still bungled names.
Only two hours. The minion probably didn’t murder Poppy in the street, so there was a good chance that she was still alive.
“Was Poppy hurt?”
“She was unconscious.”
“But was she bleeding out? Did Tavat’s goon shoot her?”
His wings shifted, almost suggesting a shrug of his own. “Not my concern.”
“Not your concern? This is your fault?—”
“Also your fault.”
“We were doing fine until you stuck your nose in.”
“You were both unconscious in the street. Your definition of ‘fine’ is lacking.”
She narrowed her eyes. His quick, glib responses infuriated her. “We have to go back and get Poppy.”
“No.” Ari turned, striding down the corridor.
Carla followed. “What do you mean no?”
“We are no longer in the Hub’s port and cannot return immediately.”
She struggled to match his strides. She had all sorts of questions about why he couldn’t turn the ship around but stuck with the obvious. “Why not?”
His tail lashed from side to side. “Because it is necessary.”
“You owe me.”
Ari paused in front of a door, which opened softly. “Incorrect. You have benefited, albeit erroneously, from a debt I owe to a friend. Now, this is your cabin. You will find it adequate.”
Adequate didn’t do the cabin justice; it was lush, far nicer than any room she’d rented in the last two years. It was spacious, clean, and decorated with a heavy hand that appreciated shiny things. It wasn’t as ostentatious as the treasure trove; more likea casino trying really hard to be classy with lots of marble and reflective surfaces.
“I don’t need a cabin. I need my friend,” she said.
Ari ignored her and asked, “Are you hungry?”
“No,” she answered immediately, then her stomach growled.
“Would you like to clean up while I prepare a meal? I printed these for you.” He picked up a neatly folded gray jumpsuit from a dresser. “Then we can discuss your situation.”
Right.Hersituation, likehehad no hand in creating it.
“Fine. I’ll get cleaned up.” Carla took the clothes. While basic and as far from fashionable as you could get, at least it was human-sized, and she couldn’t deny she needed something clean to wear. A shower would be good, too. It’d give her time to strategize.
Clearly, Ari had a thing for damsels in distress. She’d convince him to rescue Poppy, even if she had to lay on the waterworks. Even if she had to play dirty.
There was still time to turn the situation around.
ARI
The wrong human. Of all the stone-headed mistakes he’d made in his life, this one was top of the roost. A barely noticeable mistake. Hardly worth mentioning.
