Page 38 of Alien's Luck
“Listen, buster?—”
She never got a chance to finish. Ari pushed through a pair of swing doors into a service corridor. As he lowered her to her feet, the fabric of her dress climbed up, exposing more thigh than she was comfortable with.
“What is that discoloration?”
“Nothing. Just bruises.” She tugged the fabric back down, only slightly mortified.
“I allowed you to be injured.” Ari crouched at her feet, pulling the dress back up.
This guy certainly had a high opinion of himself.
Carla knocked his hand away. “They’re a couple of days old from my encounter with Tavat’s henchman. Are we running away or not?”
“You’ve been injured this entire time?” Ari sounded horrified. “You should have told me so you could receive proper treatment.”
The clock was ticking. If they didn’t have time for him to explain what the hell was going on, they certainly didn’t have time for Ari to have a meltdown over her human fragility.
“It’s not a big deal. Let’s go that way,” Carla said, pointing to the dimly lit end of the corridor.
“No. Vermin hide in the darkness.” On his feet again, he pushed through a set of doors into a busy kitchen.
“Excuse me, your lordship. I mistook you for someone with a warrant for their arrest,” she said, following him through the general pandemonium of the kitchen. No one seemed to notice them. Yet. “What could you have possibly done? You’re an antiques dealer. Unless you really are an art thief. You can tell me.”
“I am not an art thief.”
“That’s cool. I totally understand.” If he had been facing her, she’d give him an exaggerated wink, but that would probably be lost in translation. “All right then. Keep your secrets.”
A shout came from behind as armed men burst through the kitchen doors, knocking into a server carrying a tray. Ari grabbed her hand and hustled out the back, through a storage area with coolers, and onto a loading bay.
It was a dead end. Exposed to the elements, the short platform had no railings to stop a person from plunging over the side. No stairwells or ladders offered access from above or below. This place was a health and safety nightmare.
She shivered from the wind coming over the cool water. Exhaustion was coming fast as the adrenaline wore off. She felt shaky, like she needed a cup of strong coffee and a donut. No, a dozen donuts. Just pure sugar and delicious grease.
Shouts of alarm came from the storeroom.
Steel girders crisscrossed overhead. Ari stood near the edge and had a look on his face like he was considering climbing.
“I never made it up the rope in gym class, if you’re thinking of climbing,” she said.
“Feeble upper body strength. Note.”
Rude, if true.
The shouts got closer. Those guys with the creepy blank-faced helmets spilled through the door.
Ari grabbed her, wrapping an arm around her waist, and fell over the edge.
ARI
Carla screamed.
Loudly. Right in his ear as they plummeted to the water. Below, floating piers and watercraft used by the resort and staff were docked under the platform, hidden in the shadows. The water rushed toward them, and the crafts grew closer.
His wings snapped open, catching the wind. Controlling the glide proved difficult with Carla’s added mass—the squirming as she attempted to climb him, and the clutching did not help—but he managed to avoid slamming into the platform’s structural pillars.
Carla’s arms tightened around his neck like she was determined to strangle him.
He aimed for a maintenance walkway, a narrow metal bridge suspended between the pillars. Rusted and discolored, the metal did not look solid enough to hold his weight when shifted to his stone form.
