Page 19 of Alien's Luck
She even begged him to help—literally begged on her knees—and he had the nerve to ask her why she bothered.
Well, it was a fair question. She should take his money and go live her best life. No guilt. It was survival, and she was a survivor. Anyone would take the gargoyle’s money.
Anyone except Poppy. She wouldn’t abandon her. Not for money. Not for any reason. She’d do whatever it took to save her, even going to Tavat’s supervillain lair and rescue her zombified ass, like a proper hero.
She wasn’t hero material. Sure, she had skills, but they were more people-oriented, all about reading a room, placating egos, and distracting a mark by batting her lashes or being gross and playing up the helpless little human. Those weren’t even villain skills. They were support-villain skills, and none of them translated into kicking down doors, shooting zombies that needed to get dead and stay dead, and otherwise being a badass.
Well, she wasn’t helpless, and she had badass potential. So much potential.
Fine. She’d do it herself. He said his resources were at her disposal. She’d dispose the hell out of his resources.
But there wasn’t anything she could do about it immediately, as much as she itched to get started on the badassery.
Carla threw herself onto the bed, resentful at how comfy it felt. Staring up at the ceiling, she planned. Two hours, Ari said, until the ship arrived at the settlement. She’d take his money, hire a team, and rescue Poppy. Until then, she had to be patient and wait.
A full stomachand a brief nap helped clear away the doom and gloom feelings. She made her way back to the treasure room, taking her time to explore the ship.
Lush barely scratched the surface of how luxurious the ship was. Opulent. Sumptuous. All accurate. Also garish and just a wee bit over the top. Oddly, all those adjectives also described the gargoyle.
Carla peeked into the cabins as she made her way down the corridor. The other cabins were furnished but too neatly arranged, ready for a guest but not currently in use. The bathroom she shared with the cabin next door was clean and fully stocked, though.
She found a saloon furnished for entertaining but clearly never used. It was too clean. The pillows were too neatly arranged on sofas.
Mainly, she noticed how quiet the ship was. Perhaps it had something to do with quality materials—solid walls, thick carpets in the corridor perfect for muffling footsteps, velvet wall hangings to dampen sound—but she suspected it was because the ship was empty. The place felt hollow.
She made her way back to the treasure trove without encountering another person or evidence of their existence. Despite having been in the room before, she was still dazzled by the collection. It was like stepping into an illustration of Aladdin’s cave. It was floor-to-ceiling treasure. Just gold, silver, and shiny gems. It was too much to comprehend.
Where did Ari get this?
She quickly realized that she didn’t want to know. Nothing good. She didn’t want to know the kind of person who acquired this fortune, and she certainly didn’t want to know the kind of person who hoarded a literal dragon’s hoard of treasure. Well, gargoyle’s hoard. Not a thing, yeah, yeah.
Just grab a piece.
A necklace. Nothing big, just flashy enough to sell and use the money to hire someone to rescue Poppy. How many necklaces did it take to hire a pair of mercenaries? Two? Better make itthree so they didn’t have to skimp on bullets. Good thing her jumpsuit had lots of pockets.
Carla pried open a promising black velvet box. Sure enough, it was filled with jewelry. Were any of the pieces particularly valuable? She couldn’t tell but had a vague idea that a truly precious piece would be in its own case, not jumbled together. She grabbed a fistful and shoved it into her pockets.
Great. Now time to get out of Dodge.
“You are a thief.”
She jumped at Ari’s voice. “Don’t sneak up on me like that.”
“Pardon me. I forgot how rude it is to interrupt a person while they’re robbing me.” The gargoyle took a menacing step forward, his wings flexing out as if to block her from escaping the room.
Good call. She would run, given a chance.
“You said I could have anything. This is anything.” She flashed a smile, hoping to soothe the situation.
“You are stealing. From me.” He sounded so scandalized that Carla almost felt bad.
Smiles weren’t going to cut it. She planted her hands on her hips. “Oh, please. Don’t get all high and mighty on me. You literally bought me off the street.”
“It was a bribe, and I liberated you.”
“I wasn’t imprisoned, and people aren’t property,” she said. “I know everyone on this planet seems to think that might makes right, but you can’t just take people. Even if you have good intentions.”
His gaze swept over her, taking in her stuffed pockets and the open casket. He leaned in, his hand brushing her hip. She gasped at the touch.
