had
made themselves disappear without a trace.
Too bad she couldn’t do the same. Gods, she sucked at this
furtive, stealthy crap. Grimacing at her bare ankles and feet, she groaned.
“I look like space trash,” she complained to herself. “Now
no one will want me.”
Yet she had no choice but to keep going. She checked left
and right before leaving the alley, then walked with purpose through the busy
three-hundred curve of the ring. Long minutes later, the four-hundred curve
sign hovered overhead.
She slowed to check the name of each establishment. At last
she saw a small sign that said Misty’s in understated silver letters. There was
no green hiring symbol—a humanoid with one hand raised and one by its
side—beneath the name though. Maybe Misty’s was too high class to advertise an
open position that way.
Before she could step through the blue-tinted shield door, a
tall man with sharp features stepped out and looked her over, his eyes
lingering on her torn skirt and bare feet.
“This establishment requires a standard of dress that you do
not meet, Mar,” he said in a crisp, condescending tone. “Please return when you
are properly attired.”
He turned his narrow back, dismissing her, but Achelle let
her anger take her by the hand. She stepped around the man and glared up into
his sallow face.
“I’m looking for a job and was told Misty’s might have an
opening.”
The corners of his nearly lipless mouth lifted ever so
slightly, as if he were amused. “You were misled, Mar, but even if we did have
an open position…” He cleared his throat, glancing down at her burned feet. “We
would be unable to offer a position to…you.”
He lifted his gaze to meet hers and smiled openly, revealing
four rows of oblique, serrated teeth. “Perhaps you should check with the local
brothels? They are located on the eight-hundred curve—on the opposite side of
the ring—and are always looking for new bodies to fill their beds.”
Achelle stepped back from the arrogant Krahs male but
refused to drop her gaze. She waited until, with a lift of his thin eyebrows,
he lost his toothy grin, broke eye contact and went into the restaurant. Then
she walked away. She might be naïve about, well, a lot of things, but one thing
she did know was never to turn her back on a Krahs whose teeth are showing.
An itching between her shoulder blades told her that the
Krahs male was watching her through the cloudy shield door—at least she hoped
it was him and not the captain.
When she and her mother had started the journey, Achelle had
been excited to meet people of other races, maybe even Ranes. She was half-Rane
after all. She had their same larger-than-human eyes and longer-than-human
neck. But the more people she met, the less she wanted to know.
With a forced show of pride, she lifted her chin, fisted her
hands at her side and marched toward the upper hundred curves of the ring. So
what if the brothels were located in the eight hundreds. She was sure there
were plenty of other respectable jobs to be found there as well, and she
wouldn’t let some Krahs snob keep her from looking.
Chapter Two
The activity of the small space station buzzed around Sam as
he stopped in the middle of the shopping ring’s wide way and breathed deeply.
Within the stale recycled air, past the stench of trash and citrusy-smelling
cleaning chemicals, beyond the medicated water and deep-freeze food…he scented
an irresistible bouquet. His body hardened, every muscle growing taut as he
inhaled the sexual scent that fired his blood and enlivened the coupling
instincts that his species had held since the dawning of their civilization.
He followed the scent to Spaced, hunting his mortal mate.
When he entered the upscale clothing store, his jaw clenched
as his cock swelled. She had been here—briefly but recently. Adjusting the
strap on his sling bag, he followed her scent through the aisles up to the
cash-out counter, where his mate had
made themselves disappear without a trace.
Too bad she couldn’t do the same. Gods, she sucked at this
furtive, stealthy crap. Grimacing at her bare ankles and feet, she groaned.
“I look like space trash,” she complained to herself. “Now
no one will want me.”
Yet she had no choice but to keep going. She checked left
and right before leaving the alley, then walked with purpose through the busy
three-hundred curve of the ring. Long minutes later, the four-hundred curve
sign hovered overhead.
She slowed to check the name of each establishment. At last
she saw a small sign that said Misty’s in understated silver letters. There was
no green hiring symbol—a humanoid with one hand raised and one by its
side—beneath the name though. Maybe Misty’s was too high class to advertise an
open position that way.
Before she could step through the blue-tinted shield door, a
tall man with sharp features stepped out and looked her over, his eyes
lingering on her torn skirt and bare feet.
“This establishment requires a standard of dress that you do
not meet, Mar,” he said in a crisp, condescending tone. “Please return when you
are properly attired.”
He turned his narrow back, dismissing her, but Achelle let
her anger take her by the hand. She stepped around the man and glared up into
his sallow face.
“I’m looking for a job and was told Misty’s might have an
opening.”
The corners of his nearly lipless mouth lifted ever so
slightly, as if he were amused. “You were misled, Mar, but even if we did have
an open position…” He cleared his throat, glancing down at her burned feet. “We
would be unable to offer a position to…you.”
He lifted his gaze to meet hers and smiled openly, revealing
four rows of oblique, serrated teeth. “Perhaps you should check with the local
brothels? They are located on the eight-hundred curve—on the opposite side of
the ring—and are always looking for new bodies to fill their beds.”
Achelle stepped back from the arrogant Krahs male but
refused to drop her gaze. She waited until, with a lift of his thin eyebrows,
he lost his toothy grin, broke eye contact and went into the restaurant. Then
she walked away. She might be naïve about, well, a lot of things, but one thing
she did know was never to turn her back on a Krahs whose teeth are showing.
An itching between her shoulder blades told her that the
Krahs male was watching her through the cloudy shield door—at least she hoped
it was him and not the captain.
When she and her mother had started the journey, Achelle had
been excited to meet people of other races, maybe even Ranes. She was half-Rane
after all. She had their same larger-than-human eyes and longer-than-human
neck. But the more people she met, the less she wanted to know.
With a forced show of pride, she lifted her chin, fisted her
hands at her side and marched toward the upper hundred curves of the ring. So
what if the brothels were located in the eight hundreds. She was sure there
were plenty of other respectable jobs to be found there as well, and she
wouldn’t let some Krahs snob keep her from looking.
Chapter Two
The activity of the small space station buzzed around Sam as
he stopped in the middle of the shopping ring’s wide way and breathed deeply.
Within the stale recycled air, past the stench of trash and citrusy-smelling
cleaning chemicals, beyond the medicated water and deep-freeze food…he scented
an irresistible bouquet. His body hardened, every muscle growing taut as he
inhaled the sexual scent that fired his blood and enlivened the coupling
instincts that his species had held since the dawning of their civilization.
He followed the scent to Spaced, hunting his mortal mate.
When he entered the upscale clothing store, his jaw clenched
as his cock swelled. She had been here—briefly but recently. Adjusting the
strap on his sling bag, he followed her scent through the aisles up to the
cash-out counter, where his mate had
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