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Femme Metal Page 6
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“There is more profit in the games. Drokesh out.”
The screen changed back to flat gray-green. Sekmeth leaned back in the seat and closed his eyes briefly. More profit. That’s what it was all about on the Gorgosh. Profit from games of the flesh, of luck and of violence. No respect for the hunt, though Drokesh had been one of theirs, a Hunter. He sighed deeply.
A small sound caught his keen ears. He stared at the woman-child just as she was turning something off on her console.
Sekmeth stretch an arm and grabbed her by a shoulder. “What was this?” he asked, pointing at the small light, which had just flashed green.
She tried to shake his hand away but failed. He released her and stood. “I gave you fair warning.”
Bending over the clearly frightened child, he noticed over the small light a piece of tape, old and flaky, reading “Engine Room”.
Sekmeth grinned.
Chapter Six
With Kim’s screwdriver in hand, Alex padded out of the engine room. The worn handle felt smooth under her sweaty fingers. She just hoped the inhibitor wouldn’t pick up aggression before she actually acted on it. Right now, it must have been busy sifting through the slew of her emotions, from fear and panic to excitement, even anticipation. Good thing it was set to “human mode” and could differentiate strong internal changes and not kick in every minute. It knew the difference between vomit-inducing fear and I’m-about-to-kill-you rage.
She swallowed hard. If she missed the Yithian, she’d not only get a good jolt but would also taste whatever punishment he’d hinted at earlier. Her insides twisted.
Good thing for the Femme Metal’s small size. It’d be over quick. Good or bad.
She was reaching the ladder to climb up to the second deck when a pair of very large boots appeared on the grill over her head. Since there was more light above than below, she could see the Yithian above her, but he couldn’t see her under him.
Shit.
As silently as she could manage, Alex backpedaled from the ladder, turned into the narrow passageway leading to the cargo hold and sprinted the last few feet. She could hear him coming down the ladder. His big steel-clipped boots clacked on each rung. He wasn’t even trying to be discreet. What the hell could he be looking for down there anyway?
Alex squeezed in between stacks of cargo crates and watched the Yithian land on the deck and turn toward the engine room. Fear knotted her stomach. There was no reason to go there unless… Had he overheard Kim talking? What if he’d punished her? Alex gripped the screwdriver tighter. Scumbag wanted something to hit on? She’d give him options.
Images of the “trade disagreement” with the Yithians a few years back flashed in her mind. Tall blue-skinned people spilled out of sleek crafts, shiny weapons in their hands, gray pearls for eyes. She’d never forget the fear, the awe these people inspired. Her soldiers had practically cowered back inside the command post rather than face these blue giants with the expensive gunnery. She’d held her ground, mainly because she was a captain and her soldiers expected it, but she’d remained rooted to the spot also because these aliens were just so damned beautiful. They hadn’t looked so beautiful the next day, though, after they’d blasted her unit to smoldering pieces. Border dispute, my ass!
Her surroundings came back to her and Alex shook her head. Grand time to be having some damn nostalgia attack. She was definitely getting too old for this.
After the Yithian had turned the corner, Alex raced back to the ladder. No sound, no movements from down the passageway. Good, some luck, finally. She was about to grab the first rung when the sound of footsteps froze her. The temporary lapse in judgment quickly passed, though, and she bolted.
She’d just squeezed back into her observation point between crates when the Yithian emerged into the cargo hold. The hold’s dirty yellow light made him look green. It hit his face at an angle and Alex gritted her teeth.
He knew.
She knew just by the expression on his face. The Hunter sniffing for his prey. He’d seen or heard Kim, and came looking for the wayward captain lurking in the engine room. When he hadn’t found her there, he’d thought logically she was still somewhere on the lower deck. Hence himself in the flesh, looking tight as hell and scanning the hold. His hands clenched and unclenched at his sides. His long coat had parted but she couldn’t see if he had a weapon or not. Not that it mattered with a guy his size.
Alex realized she had squeezed the screwdriver with enough force it’d created a sharp indentation in her palm. She loosened her grip so blood would come back to her knuckles. She’d need those very soon. Right before the inhibitor decked her. Just one shot, that’s all I’m asking.
The Yithian took a few cautious steps inside the large hold. His eyes scanned left then right to the piles of stuff and other junk littering the place. If she didn’t move, he’d be bound to find her eventually. An idea blazed across her turbulent mind. Desperate situations called for desperate measures, or some shit like that.
From her position, she couldn’t see the access panel but knew exactly where it was. If she could get to it and press the big yellow and red button, the one with a cage over it, the exterior cargo doors would open and jettison into space everything not tied down. Including the seven-foot alien standing in the middle of the place. Air would leave too, and a whole lot of stuff would go flying around, but the emergency system would kick in and close the doors.
Yeah, you big dumb thing. Let’s see you fight off a giant vacuum.
Keeping her gaze on him at all times, Alex snuck all the way back to the tight space. She kept her back to the wall as she crab-walked closer to the interior hatch and its precious access panel. The button resembled a giant mushroom. Alex licked her sweaty lips. She swore the screwdriver would leave a permanent imprint in her hand.
On all fours, she crept further inside the hold until she was about twenty feet away from the panel. She’d have to be quick. Lift the small cage then slam the button. She’d done it enough times to know how it went. Only she’d never done it with an inhibitor around her neck and two hundred and fifty pounds of Yithian on her ass.
Fifty feet away, the alien reached the main cargo doors and turned completely around, probably so he could check the crates she’d just used as a hiding place. He cocked his head to one side and grinned. He was getting excited, she could tell.
It’s now or never.
Alex leapt from her spot behind a pile of rigging equipment and charged for the button. Only one thought propelled her—got-to-get-to-the-mushroom!
Behind her, the Yithian swore in his language. She heard his big boots clatter on the metal floor. He was charging.
Before he’d taken three steps, Alex lifted the cage, broke at least three nails doing so and slammed her fist on the button.
At once, a piercing alarm wailed at rhythmic intervals. Air whistled angrily as the cargo doors cracked open. Riggings, crates, spare parts and all kinds of stuff scraped the floor as they slowly inched toward the doors. Alex looped her arm around the interior hatch handle and dug her heels in. She saw the Yithian leaning forward as he fought against the massive change of air pressure and tried to avoid the junk sliding toward him.
Alex would have applauded had she not been bent on seeing him out with the rest of the unwanted stuff. He managed to keep his footing, even made some progress. Foot by excruciating foot, he advanced toward the access panel. His hair flew about his face in mad silver ribbons. The ponytail hung loose, whatever held his long hair had been ripped off. His clothes looked painted-on in front but fretted angrily behind him.
The level of oxygen must have been rapidly diminishing for nausea crept up Alex’s throat. She fought against the urge to scream and tried to keep what air she had in her lungs. Too soon, the automatic safety trigger kicked on. The doors began to close.
The Yithian straightened, his eyes narrowed to slits. The pressure was coming back now. Alex no longer felt as though her ears would pop inward. But when he charged at her, she cursed. A
lex cocked her other arm back, aimed for the big blue head coming at her and let the screwdriver fly. No aggression—just deadly intent. The inhibitor didn’t jolt her. Alex could have wept in relief.
The screwdriver thudded against the Yithian’s forehead. He shook his head but kept on coming. Alex let go of the handle and made a run for it.
Air swooshed behind, and she knew the Yithian had tried to grab her. Too fast for you, big guy?
She yelped when a hand closed over the back of her jacket. A great weight tackled her to the side. She went down heavily. Rivets dug into her shoulder and hip. They’d probably have to be surgically removed later. Alex squirmed to get free but only managed to trigger the inhibitor. A jolt of pain hit her as electricity raced down her neck to her chest. Behind her, the Yithian grunted. He must have had a measure of it, too.
“Stop it,” he hissed, grabbing both her arms in his and keeping her close to his chest.
She snapped her head back, hoping to catch anything softer than her skull. No luck. Another jolt of pain ripped through her. Warm liquid trickled down her nose, out her mouth. Blood. Damn it.
No fight left in her battered body, Alex slumped against the metal floor and laid her forehead against it. Between pants, she tried to swallow but it hurt too much. Her hair came down over her face in a disheveled mass of black curls.
The Yithian kept her there in a bear hug, pinned under his great weight but not enough so she couldn’t breathe. She just couldn’t escape. Her ears popped when the emergency system restabilized pressure.
“Are you calm now?” he asked, rolling onto his side and taking her with him.
Now that her lungs could fill with air and her chest no longer felt as though someone was sitting on it, Alex felt the closeness of him. He lay on his side, his whole body pressed against the back of hers. Long and powerful arms circled her shoulders, held her hands tightly together over her chest. Lemon and pepper came to her nostrils. He wrapped a long leg over hers, kept his heel between her ankles. Alex stiffened. Warmth surged up from the collar of her jacket. Rich. Very rich to be drooling over this guy when he’s about to beat the shit out of me.
The Yithian climbed up to his knees, taking her with him. She seemed to weigh no more than a wet towel in his arms. He stood. Her feet dangled inches off the floor. His breathing forced his chest solidly against her back and his body heat transferred to hers. Alex squirmed.
“If you do not stay still, this thing will kill you, which would make me lose a great sum.”
“Sorry to be an inconvenience,” she sneered through her teeth. “You’re lucky I have this on.”
He chuckled. The deep baritone rumbled in his chest. He leaned his chin against her shoulder and blew some of her hair away. “You are no inconvenience at all, Alexandra Novona. Quite the contrary. I get easily bored with docile preys.”
She meant to drive her heels in his shins but rethought that plan. “I’m no one’s prey.”
“A hunter being hunted is always a worthy prey. They should all be like you.” He let her feet touch the floor. “That being said, you are dirty, you smell bad and you injured yourself. That could all affect my fee. I warned you.”
Alex meant to bolt but he lifted her off the floor again. The powerlessness needled her pride. Tears stung her eyes. She’d never been afraid of much in her crazy life, but this, the prospect of this Yithian punishing her made her throat constrict and her belly quiver. Yet the added element of his hot body pressed next to hers added another layer of emotions. She’d heard of people doing stupid things for love, or even lust, but she’d always attributed it to weakness of character. She was the one now, the dumb one, excited at the idea of what this Hunter had prepared for her. Torture and rape, no doubt. He’d been obvious enough the last time he’d been in her company. What was this shit called again, the “Stockholm Syndrome” or something? She was just so goddamn confused.
When in doubt, curse.
And she let loose a long string of good ones. Some she hadn’t used in a while, some she’d never heard. As she was going on, the Yithian chuckled and stepped into the passageway. He still carried her in front of him as though she weighed nothing. When they came up to the ladder, it was her turn to chuckle. Yeah, big guy, figure this one out.
“You will go in front and I will follow,” he said after some reflection.
Alex snorted. “I’ll have time for a good kick before the inhibitor gets me.”
“Then I will go in front and you will follow me.” The Yithian set her down beside the ladder. But he still held her tight from behind.
“Yeah, right.” What did he take her for? “So,” Alex asked, not even bothering to go light on the sarcasm, “how you going to manage this?”
She felt something pinch the nape of her neck. She went all limp and numb. Sneaky scumbag.
“Like this.”
Chapter Seven
Alex kept her eyes tightly shut while the Yithian slowly climbed the ladder with her over his shoulder. Not the most dignified way to get on deck for sure. His little neck pinch had paralyzed her. She couldn’t even curse. He bumped her head against the ledge.
“My apologies.”
No hint of malice there, as though he was truly sorry for hurting her. Finally, he set foot on the landing. Instead of heading for the brig, he turned right and followed the tight passageway leading to personnel quarters. Sweat beaded on her forehead. Heartbeat thudded as blood gathered in her head. The pressure made her feel as though her face would explode.
She spotted her cabin door, upside down, and gulped. He was taking her back to his—correction—her cabin. This time, real fear jabbed her in the gut. He punched the access code, which he had undoubtedly forced from Kim, and the hatch slid into the bulkhead. From her vantage point she could see he had cleaned the place up quite a bit. What kind of bounty hunter cleaned his prey’s cabin? His smell permeated the place.
The Yithian slid Alex off his shoulder and deposited her on the floor. “Feelings to your limbs should return shortly.” He left her there and stepped into the tiny cubicle that passed for a washroom on the Femme Metal. The door swung closed with a click.
As much as she tried, she could not get her legs or arms to function. She tried to roll toward the hatch but couldn’t even make half a rotation. All she managed to do was flop onto her side and lay there, cursing under her breath. As promised, tingling began to make her toes and fingers itchy. The sound of the shower interrupted her misery. He was taking a shower? The smug, conceited brute.
Renewed efforts to escape brought no great accomplishment—a full rotation toward the hatch, no more. By that time, her whole body tingled painfully. After a few quick breaths, she floundered to all fours and crawled forward a couple of feet but then slumped back to her side. Her heart beat as though she’d just run around the obstacle course—ten times.
Inside the cubicle water shut off and the rattling of the stall indicated he’d stepped out. For a split second she tried to imagine the seven-foot alien attempting to stoop under the spigot, but the thought zipped out of her mind when the door slid back and out he came. A towel wrapped his lean waist. The thing barely reached mid-thigh. A nasty bruise spread on his chiseled brow. The screwdriver hadn’t pushed him off her ship, but at least it’d made a dint. Made him look fallible. She liked him this way.
He looked surprised to see her by the door and grinned. “You are resilient.”
She jutted her chin defiantly when he picked her up and helped her to her feet—his skin still beaded with water. “You will feel much better after you have one yourself.”
She felt like she’d drunk four Slip Knots in a row. Her legs barely managed her weight. Alex tried to push him away but feared triggering the inhibitor. The shame of it all but made her eyes well up. She could take the beatings, the stunners, the pain, but this debilitation was so humiliating she had to stare at her feet to hide the pain. No point giving him satisfaction on top of things.
“I do not enjoy using s
uch methods. In truth, I rarely have to. Preys usually do not behave like this.”
“Don’t call me that.”
“Very well, Alexandra Novona. Take a shower. You stink. Is that better?”
“I’m not your plaything. You want me, you’re going to have to take me dirty and smelly. And you can go—”
He put a finger to her throat. “Do not wake it. Now clean up.”
“No.”
Water dripped in crystals from his silver hair down his chest. He pinched her jacket’s zipper. “I will do it for you, Alexandra Novona.”
Sensations to her limbs slowly returned and Alex pushed his hand off. “Bite me.”
He grinned ominously.
“Fine, just so I can get your stink off me,” she snarled, slamming the door to the cubicle open and stepping inside. His clothes neatly hung from the pipes overhead. So he was a clean freak on top of things?
As she closed the door, he put a hand to the handle and shook his head. “I do not trust you. Leave it open.”
Alex did the only thing she could under the circumstances—she made a rude gesture with her hand and whirled around. Luckily, the shower stall wasn’t in direct line with the door, but still.
She watched him sit on the narrow cot, stretching his long legs in front of him and leaning back. He resembled one of those Old Earth white marble statues carved by some long-dead civilization—only seven feet tall and spray painted blue.
One piece at a time, Alex dropped her clothes in a pile beside the stall. Good thing an extra towel hung on a hook. She draped it over the shower’s inside wall so he wouldn’t see too much of her should he decide to take a peek. Fingering the metal band around her neck, she stepped inside the stall, closed the door then pressed on the chrome pommel. Steaming water hit her like hail. She sucked in her breath and adjusted the temperature. How could anyone sustain such heat?
As much as she hated to admit it, he was right. She felt much better. So much, in fact, she decided she could take him on, whatever he meant to do. The inhibitor might stop her from booting him in the chops but she could…let’s say, make something happen to him without resorting to violence. Alex grinned. Her locker. There were some clothes in it, relatively fresh ones, but more importantly, there was another jacket with a stunner in it.