Page 20 of Alien's Luck
He tucked the length of a gold chain that had gone astray back into her pocket, a smirk on his face. “This is about the Nakkoni female.”
“This is about my friend Poppy,” she said. “She actually needs to be liberated, and since you’re not going to help me and this is basically your fault, I decided that your money will do.”
“I see. That is quite the justification you’ve worked out.”
“It’s the truth. If it weren’t for you, Poppy and I?—”
“Would likely be dead. If by some miracle you survived, you would still be thieves, stealing from someone else for your next meal.” He shook his head. “Perching on an unstable cliff is no way to live.”
Oh, that condescending gargoyle.
Carla saw red. She reached into the still -open casket and grabbed another handful. This felt like a collection of bracelets, maybe a ring or two. “Every time you talk down to me, I’m grabbing more. It’s my fee for putting up with your ass.”
He huffed. “My ass is fantastic. I should charge you a fee.”
Carla reached in with her other hand. More rings. A few fell to the floor. “Keep going, please, but I’ll need a bag.”
The amused expression left his face. “You are clearly resourceful and intelligent. Surely, you can find better employment than thievery.”
Save her from do-gooders.
The truth was, Carla did start out her life on Reazus Prime with a proper job in a tavern. She and Poppy worked as servers, slinging drinks and doing whatever needed doing, usually scrubbing the floors after closing. It was fine for a few months. Customers didn’t keep their hands to themselves, but Carla never had a problem telling people to get stuffed. Poppy growling over her shoulder helped deter unwanted attention. Unfortunately, the tavern owner had a gambling problem, and even more unfortunately, he thought he could sell Carla to settle the debt. Anyway, long story short, Carla took the cash box at the end of her shift and never felt bad for one second.
“You think this place is swarming with nine-to-five jobs with benefits? That I can just work in an office, and that’s that?” She lifted her chin, stubborn and pissed, and only too late did she notice that stance made her stare directly into his eyes. They were a very pretty shade of violet, like twin gemstones.
“Have you tried?” he asked.
“Have you tried considering that maybe people are doing the best with the hand they’ve been dealt?”
Something sparked in his violet eyes, like a bad idea.
“I have decided to help you,” he said.
Yeah, bad and suspicious.
“Why’d you change your mind?” she asked warily.
“Your argument convinced me.”
“Bullshit.”
“I have a plan to access Tavat’s compound. You merely possess a bag of stolen jewelry,” he said, the forced cheerfulness vanishing for a moment.
Good. She liked him better this way, when he wasn’t pretending.
“What’s the plan?”
“Tavat would never invite me to his compound. I do not merit such attention, but if you were to accompany me?—”
“You mean be the bait.”
“The sweet morsel to tempt the greedy male. We gain access to Tavat’s compound and retrieve your friend,” Ari said, making the scheme sound easy. He flashed a grin full of charm, the cheerfulness back in full effect. She wanted to claim the grin wasn’t charming, but much like his baking skills, it was unmatched. Damn him.
Carla scratched the tip of her nose, thinking. Ari left out a lot of steps, and clearly, he had a motive, though she couldn’t say what. A personal beef with Tavat? Likely. His opinion of the man had not been flattering.
“What if Poppy is a zombie?” she asked.
“My sincere condolences. I would suggest violence as a method to process your grief.”
