Page 8 of Alien's Luck
The mirth and revelry in the crowd vanished.
“It is nothing,” Poppy said, which had to be the worst possible response.
“This is not nothing.” Tavat’s tail lashed violently from side to side.
The club’s steward appeared, a serious -faced Nakkoni male with a pale coppery complexion. “We will handle the matter.”
“No,” Tavat said, pulling out a blaster from the inner pocket of his suit jacket. “I will deal with the cheater myself. But first, the female human is forfeit.”
This was escalating quickly. Normally, Ari welcomed chaos, but he needed to pull it back to a manageable level of chaos.
Carla removed her mask. Her entire posture changed, shedding the timid human act and grabbing a drinks tray from apassing server. She spun in place and flung the tray—drinks and all—at Tavat. A fair portion hit Ari, but he didn’t mind.
Before the male or his security could react, she grabbed Poppy and ran. Tavat shot at them, aiming badly. A nearby gaming table took damage. A scream of alarm tore through the crowd.
“Don’t stand there! Get her!” Tavat snapped, pointing to the fleeing couple. The gesture would have been far more dramatic if it had not splattered those nearby with liquor. His guards sprang into action.
Ari laughed, utterly delighted.
A chase. He loved chases.
CARLA
Carla ran, following Poppy, who used her large size to push through the crowd. She gasped for air, her calves burned, and her sides were doing that thing that told her she should have been serious about taking up jogging instead of just buying a pair of sneakers and calling that good enough. She wasn’t a runner, okay? And now she was being chased by proverbial regrets and a very literal pissed -off lizard man.
She glanced over her shoulder.
And a gargoyle, for some reason.
Poppy burst through a door into a service corridor, knocking into a cart. Plates and food went flying. “Pardon me,” she said, managing to have manners while charging through. Not wanting to be shot full of holes was no reason to be rude.
Carla didn’t want to look like Swiss cheese either but struggled to keep pace.
The corridor took them down a flight of stairs to the same level as the storeroom. The air had a musty, earthy scent.
“There’s an exit,” Poppy said, not out of breath in the slightest, and pointed to another set of fucking stairs.
Carla gave up, bending at the waist and resting her hands on her knees as she gasped. If she was captured by creepy Tavat, so be it. She’d figure it out, but there was no way she could keep running.
“Carla—”
Footsteps rattled down the stairs. Had to be their trigger-happy friend or that gargoyle.
“Go.” Gasp. “I’ll hide.”
Poppy grabbed her and picked her up like a football, tucking her under one arm as she ran toward the exit. She bounced the entire way. It was humiliating.
She rushed up the stairs, each step making a huge racket. Energy blasts hit the wall, dark spots growing and eating away at the plaster like little angry voids.
Not good, not good. Was she panicking? Yes, absolutely. She enjoyed being non-perforated with all the inside bits, you know, inside.
Finally, Poppy reached the top. The door squealed in protest as she pushed it open. The rank smell of humid air mixed with garbage made her wrinkle her nose. It was gross outside, but staying inside wasn’t an option.
The stairwell building dumped them into a twisted warren of poorly illuminated alleyways. There was no clear way to the main thoroughfare. She continued to run, not slowing down to a brisk walk until they were a good distance away.
“What were you thinking?” she demanded, still clutching her like a football. “You have provoked the wrong male.”
Yeah, yeah. Throwing a drink on Tavat wasn’t the brightest move she ever made, but they needed to make a quick exit.
