Page 4 of Alien's Luck
“As deeply flattering as your offer is, I must decline. We are not for sale,” Poppy said.
Carla pressed herself against Poppy’s side, burying her face against the fabric of Poppy’s shirt as if she were shy. She wasn’t. She was pissed. Scowling or yelling at the creep would ruin all their hard work. And yes, swindling was hard work. You couldn’t just walk up to a mark and politely ask them to give you all their money. You had to cajole them, flatter them, and make them think it was their idea. Then you took the money and ran.
“You know who I am,” the creep said.
“Should I?” Poppy asked in return.
The creep’s quills went down, unamused.
They didn’t need to know who the man was. Not the specifics, anyway. They had a name—Tavat—and knew his hobbies included spending obscene amounts of cash, frequenting the gambling halls, and splashing out money. He was currently surrounded by an entourage of sycophants and security, making him impossible to miss. Everything suggested he loved the attention.
What more was there to know?
One of the sycophants, a finely dressed gargoyle—Khargal—with a deep gray complexion that held a purple sheen, stared at Carla.
His gaze was intense, like he saw right through her act.
Carla looked away, casting her eyes toward the floor.
“Then you know I am accustomed to getting what I desire,” Tavat said.
“She is not for sale,” Poppy said, her tone indicating the conversation was closed.
The creep didn’t get the message. He leaned one arm on the table and licked his lips, the tip of his tongue split.
That wasn’t a standard Nakkoni feature. At least Poppy did not have a split tongue.
Tavat caught her looking and grinned. “Do you like, pretty human? My tongue is especially pleasurable for certain features of your anatomy.”
Oh, barf.
Carla tucked her face against Poppy again, not having to fake the shiver of disgust.
“Enough,” Poppy said, wrapping a protective arm around her. “Do not speak to my friend again. You distress her.”
Yeah, that wasn’t going to do anything. Tavat made a thoughtful noise, like he was deciding if it would be better to throw money at Poppy or just shoot Poppy and take her.
Carla curled her fingers against Poppy and tapped, sending a message in their code. This guy was giving off bad vibes. She didn’t like it. They needed to find a new target.
Poppy ignored her message. She said, “I came here to play. Stop wasting my time.”
Not perfect, but Carla would deal with it for now. She relaxed once the creep’s attention returned to the game.
The trouble with Poppy was that she was fundamentally a decent person. Carla’s pod slammed into her ship, causing it tocrash. Poppy could have left her in the flaming wreckage, but she dug Carla out. Did she hold that against her? Nope. Did she even once mention Carla paying her back for all the money she spent patching her up and installing a translator chip so they could talk? No, and the bills had been nothing to sneeze at.
Carla had no idea why she did any of that. She had been a stranger, unconscious and nearly roasted alive in a pod that crashed into her ship. She wouldn’t have pulled a stranger out of the wreckage, much less spent all her money to save that stranger’s life. Basically, Poppy was a better person than her. Huge shocker.
What about resentment for wrecking her ship? Well, Carla had opinions about the condition of a ship that couldn’t withstand a little fender bender. Space was full of dust, debris, and junk, right? Ergo, spaceships should have shields or deflectors to deal with that shit. Regardless, Poppy never blamed her for ruining her piece of junk spaceship or grumbled about having to sell it for scrap.
Carla would have grumbled. She was still salty about her struggles to find a toaster that lasted more than a year. You’d think the expensive models would perform better than the ten-dollar ones, but no. All garbage.
Focus. You’re a good little pet.
Carla chanced another peek at the gargoyle. He stared at her, not even trying to hide it. She had no idea why that bothered her so much.
The gargoyle winked.
Carla plastered a blank smile on her face, even as she felt the heat of a blush rise in her cheeks. She wouldn’t panic. So what if the gargoyle was wise to them? They’d done nothing but behave exactly as you’d expect a gambler and her pet to act.
