The Yarian (Women of Dor Nye Book 3) Page 3

  Her fingers curled in on themselves as her anger about the entire day, the whole situation she was now in, came to a head.

  She wanted so badly to pound on the alien’s back like a child in the midst of a full blown tantrum, but she didn’t. Not because of her pride or the shred of dignity she had left, but because the Yarian might swat her ass again.

  If he did it again, his hand so close to the spot his fingers invaded a handful of moments ago… she might like it.

  How much lower can I stoop?

  The Yarian’s opposite shoulder slammed into a door, jolting her back to the present.

  The humid night air swept up into her lungs as the colorful lights of the city nearly blinded her after being in the pitch dark. She lifted herself, pushing her loose hair out of her eyes as she tried to get her bearing.

  They were in an alley beside a bar she remembered seeing on the way in. A line of sleek looking hoverbikes were parked not even ten feet away. Music blared each time the sliding glass doors of the establishment would open when a patron went in or came out.

  To her surprise, the Yarian set her down on her feet.

  Immediately, she bolted in the direction of the doors, as she figured she would be safer in the bar than with the alien who kidnapped her like some kind of backward barbarian.

  His long fingers caught her wrist, encircling it, and yanking her back to him. She yelped when she slammed into his chest, but quickly pushed against him until she was nearly bent backward in her attempt to get away.

  His humanoid body was like an immovable brick wall.

  An immovable, searing hot, brick wall.

  The second she opened her mouth to scream, his other hand clamped down over her lips.

  “No,” he commanded, startling Fin still.

  She stared up at him, her nostrils flaring over the tops of his fingers with each breath she took. He glared down at her, his brow pulled low, seemingly emphasizing his meaning.

  Fin was trying to wrap her mind around the fact that he spoke. He hadn’t said a word since she first laid eyes upon him, even when she asked her few questions.

  Then again, she never really asked him anything that required verbalization.

  The Yarian’s fingers slowly lifted from her mouth, ready to latch back on in case she defied him.

  Hostility. Desire.

  They continued to stand there, staring at each other, gauging how to proceed, when the first fall of fat water droplets struck her in the face.

  The musical sound of raindrops pinging off metal and various objects started out slow, only to turn into a deafening roar when the downpour started.

  Finley made a sound of disbelief as the cold drops began to soak her hair and robe within seconds, cooling her warm skin.

  The alien pulled her along just as a newcomer was parking his hoverbike beside the others.

  “What are you doing?” She had to yell above the sound of the rain. The faint sound of blaring sirens signaling more Vishik Guards touched her ears, a mixture of panic and relief skittering through her.

  She wasn’t sure if it was safe to go with the officers. The one from inside wanted to arrest her, and she would truly be guilty if they knew what she’d done.

  Finley just needed to get home.

  If she could convince him to take her to the port, she would most likely find Dana there, and then they could find a shuttle to take them back to Dor Nye.

  Fuck Paola.

  She promised herself she would never step foot on Vishik again, and as soon as she got home, she really would tell that psycho to go stick it where the sun don’t shine.

  Without answering her, she watched as the Yarian shoved the Zacva man off his bike. He tumbled to the ground, his gills puffing up with anger, and his enormous black eyes flickering repeatedly with white film that worked as an eyelid for the aquatic race.

  “Oh shit,” she breathed as the alien swung his leg over the white and silver bike and quickly pulled, depositing her in front of him.

  Hot, searing skin and hard muscle.

  The wet fabric of her dress was heavy, and glued to her like a second skin as it was forced to hike up to her thighs when she sat astride. She shivered when she felt his cock press into her ass after he positioned her firmly.

  “Hey, that’s my bike!” the Zacva shouted just as three officers on their own hoverbikes rounded the corner.

  Finley’s lips parted as she brushed more water out of her eyes. “Look,” she yelled over her shoulder, pointing.

  The Yarian quickly flipped the reverse tab, and her fingers gripped the machine under her as it wobbled side to side. She wondered if he even knew how to drive a hoverbike.

  I’m not gonna die, I’m not gonna die, she kept chanting to herself when the bike leapt forward jerkily after he flipped it into drive.

  “This is the Vishik Guard,” one of the officers announced through a speaker, that dreaded siren getting louder and louder. “Stop the vehicle.”

  The adrenaline shooting through Fin’s veins made her heart pound and her hands jitter.

  That ingrained part of her that was conditioned to listen to authority wanted to tell the Yarian to do as the officer said, but that new part of her, the lawbreaking one, didn’t.

  The moment she walked into Carnal Bazaar was the moment she had a reason to fear law enforcement.

  The hoverbike jumped again, the small turbine at the back purring as it came to life underneath them. His hand twisted the accelerating lever forward, and they were off.

  The rain felt like tiny pins poking into her skin as they sharply turned onto the main expressway once they cleared the alley. The Yarian punched the lever, the bike quickly gaining speed, eager to please.

  Fin wasn’t sure she could watch as he dodged in and out of traffic, over and under other hoverbikes and transports, small and large. Multiple vehicles filled the road below and the air a hundred feet above it.

  Vishik’s expressways were massive, and dangerous.

  Her body swayed left, and right with each jerk of the bike whenever he flipped directions or turned a corner.

  “This is the Vishik Guard,” their pursuers announced again. “Stop the vehicle or we will use deadly force.”

  Just then, the Yarian jerked the hoverbike to the right, barely missing the electric immobilizer they shot at them.

  She watched as it latched onto a small transport instead, the entire machine shutting down and skidding to a stop as two more transports smashed into it.

  She screamed, goosebumps breaking out along her arms as real terror gripped her insides. It was dangerous to be in a transport when an immobilizer struck, but at least you had the cover the transport provided.

  On a hoverbike, there was only air.

  If the immobilizer hit them, at the speeds they were reaching, Fin didn’t think they’d come out on the other side alive.

  She didn’t want to be arrested, and she didn’t want to be shipped to a penal colony, but she most certainly wasn’t willing to die to avoid either one.

  “Pull over!” she screamed over her shoulder. “Just pull over!”

  He ignored her, dodging to the right again when another immobilizer was discharged.

  She screamed once more, though this time the device didn’t hit another vehicle but the side of a building, lodging into the stone surface.

  The rain stopped, and strands of her hair began to dry at the speed they were going, whipping her in the eyes.

  Finley was shaking with unease, her muscles contracting and relaxing over and over as the Yarian pushed the bike even harder when traffic began to thin.

  She watched the speedometer climb to over three hundred kilometers per hour. The small windshield did nearly nothing in safeguarding her face from the wind and gnats in the air. She tucked her face close to the machine, unsure how the alien could even stand it.

  He’s gonna kill me.

  I’m gonna die, and then I’ll never get to tell Paola she’s a stupid cow.

  Wh
en the sirens faded, Fin realized the bike had an illegal mod else it wouldn’t have been able to outrun any Vishik Guard vehicles.

  By the time the only loud sounds were other bikes and transports, the alien began to slow down.

  Fin lifted her head just as he took an exit to the left, continuously slowing down to a legal speed and blending in to the rest of the commuters.

  A lit, blue sign read ‘Welcome to Kru’.

  As they traveled further into the smaller city, she noticed it wasn’t as crowded with sky towers as Trion, the city they just escaped. A smaller place meant less spots to hide.

  Fin shook her head.

  She didn’t want to hide.

  She couldn’t think like that.

  What she wanted, and needed, to do was head to the port. Yes, the port. That was the only safe, logical option, the only way she was getting home.

  He took another exit, this time into a quiet parking lot that was nearly filled. When he found an empty spot, pulled in, and shut down the hoverbike, Fin couldn’t get off the thing fast enough.

  “Listen,” she told him as he, too, stood up. “I can find a transport to take me where I need to go, and you can do… whatever it is you plan to do. Be free, or go home, it’s your business-”

  “No.”

  “Is that the only word you know how to say?”

  “No.”

  Fin rolled her eyes.

  “I have to get home. That’s all there is to it. So, goodbye, and no offense, but I hope to never see you ag-”

  He gripped her hand when she started to walk away, pulling her back to him as he began striding in the opposite direction.

  “Let go of me!” she commanded angrily, shaking her hand and slapping at his in an attempt to make him release her. “Did you hear me? I said let go.”

  That dreadful tone of sirens sounded faintly from a direction she couldn’t pinpoint.

  The disconcerting feeling of her stomach flipping made her exhale sharply, and she wondered for a second if that was how every criminal felt when they heard the sound of law enforcement.

  The Yarian hesitated only momentarily before he nearly dragged her kicking and screaming along with him.

  He swiftly ducked behind a building, plucking her out of sight just as a Vishik Guard slowly rode by on a bike, a stark white spotlight whipping over the parking lot.

  “Why are they still looking for us?” she whispered as they crouched down, watching the spotlight circle a second time.

  She couldn’t understand. There were so many clients and staff there at Carnal Bazaar; why waste so much time looking for her and the Yarian?

  She supposed busting an officer’s jaw and stealing a vehicle could significantly add to the charges they faced, but it still didn’t make sense.

  He whispered hoarsely, surprising her once again, “They don’t like it when their property runs away.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Fin blinked repeatedly as she let the weight of his statement sink in.

  Her gaze idly traveled over his face while he kept watch on the officer with the spotlight. A hot, humid wind swept past them carrying the trace of damp earth, and the blended scent of various nearby restaurants.

  She’d watched an ample amount of crime vids, and knew enough about human history to know what that meant.

  They were being hunted.

  The gravity of the situation shook her like a punch to the gut. She wasn’t safe, and especially not with him.

  “Why did you come back for me?” she heard herself asking. “Why would you drag me into this mess?”

  Fin was beginning to think it would’ve been better for that guard to arrest her. She might’ve dealt with a fine, and possibly a small sentence to a penal colony, but both of those outcomes seemed favorable to being hunted by an underground organization.

  His concentration on the lingering officer broke momentarily, as if the questions caught him unawares. His lilac gaze swept to her speedily before he returned to his main focus.

  “You would have preferred I let that dirty guard take you?” his deep, strangely accented voice rumbled.

  Fin’s brows pinched together in confusion. “Dirty guard?”

  He gave a sharp nod, watching as the officer moved along before he grasped her hand again to guide her down the back of the graffiti covered building. “Every single guard that raided the place is on Xeno’s payroll.”

  Another gust of muggy air lashed around the structure, the temperature doing nothing to help dry her heavy, clingy, soggy dress that felt like ten extra pounds of weight.

  “Xeno? Is that the owner of Carnal Bazaar?”

  “Yes.”

  “That doesn’t make any sense. Why would he want his own place raided?”

  “He allows the raids,” he answered, turning a corner and ducking into another alleyway with her in tow. “To pull suspicion off the guards he pays. Would it not raise questions if Xeno’s well known business went untouched?”

  All of this new information made her wonder how long he’d actually been trapped in that hellhole, which made her feel worse that she had anything to do with supporting the place.

  I didn’t pay for it, Paola did.

  “But doesn’t he lose money when that happens? Half the… prostitutes in there were being arrested.”

  Fin swallowed, unsure what else to call the caged individuals. It didn’t seem to bother him, as he simply continued pulling her along.

  “It’s free cleanup,” he went on. “Days afterward, those left are moved to a different location, and a new shipment of chattel join them, filling the cells and creating new interest. Business resumes, as usual.”

  Finley frowned, her brow wrinkling at how mellow he sounded while he revealed the procedure of a nasty business, like it was just another day at the office.

  She supposed it probably was, for him.

  “What happens to the arrested workers?”

  He shrugged, a muscled shoulder rolling easily. “Prison, death, no one knows.”

  She shook her head, amazed in the worst way possible. “How long were you there?”

  It took him a beat to respond, like maybe he was trying to remember. “Five.”

  “Five? Five space terms?” A space term was the universal time equivalent to one of Dor Nye’s years, and she couldn’t fathom what he might’ve seen in that vast period.

  “Yes.”

  He held up an arm, stopping her from stepping forward before crouching down, gesturing for her to do the same.

  She followed his gaze across the garbage littered pavement as he observed the skinny, dirt path that led to the slums. “I have been through mishk, the rut, five times since my capture.”

  Her eyes zipped from the street to his profile. Fin wasn’t exactly sure what ‘the rut’ technically was, other than what Ranaan described as an amorous time for him.

  “Is that why you nearly raped me?”

  Finley couldn’t help the cold, accusing tone of her voice.

  The Yarian’s brows pulled low, gaze darted to her profile, like she was crazy. “I didn’t rape you.”

  “Nearly,” she hissed. “Had the Guard not busted the place up when they did, I’d be a bloody heap right now.”

  He snorted.

  “I wouldn’t have hurt you, little human,” he grimaced before his brows lifted in a haughty curve. “I’m an excellent lover.”

  Fin choked.

  “Mighty full of yourself,” she grumbled.

  “Stating fact,” he rolled a shoulder. “And I believe it would’ve been you, full of me.”

  Her mouth fell open, closed, and opened again at his vulgarity. “You filthy-”

  “Shh.”

  Her eyes bugged. He was shushing her! What a beast.

  A muscled, tall beast with talented fingers.

  Focus.

  “What is your name?”

  “My name is…,” he proudly spewed a string of words foreign to her. When she squinted her eyes in confusion, he said
, “But you may call me Hunter.”

  Uh huh…

  “I’m Finley,” she half smiled, knowing he probably already heard Dana say it back at Carnal Bazaar. “You can call me Fin.”

  “Ffffinley,” he repeated her name, his lips pulling strangely over his predatory teeth when he did so, as if pronouncing the letter F was foreign to his tongue.

  Maybe that was why he spoke English in an odd, rough way.

  “Yes,” she nodded.

  After a few breaths, he returned his focus to the entrance of the slums.

  Fin had never been to the slums, anywhere. Neither Dor Nye, or Vishik, or Bocern, the only other trade planet she’d visited.

  “Quickly,” he said suddenly, rising to his full height, and forcing her to stand as well.

  She did her best to keep up with his long, easy strides in her clinging wet dress. The soles of her feet felt extremely uncomfortable as her slippers squelched with water on each impact.

  She never thought she’d feel exposed simply walking across a street, but she found herself worried someone would see them.

  Once they leapt the crumbling curb and were a few feet up the path, she felt safer.

  A snort caught in her throat as she realized how ridiculous it was to feel safe in the slums, where poverty reigned, and crime ran rampant, and mostly unchecked.

  “Where are we going?” she whispered.

  The uneven ground was a maze of shacks made out of everything ranging from stone, brick, and sheets of metal, and wood. Fin wasn’t sure she would ever be able to find her way back out even if she tried, but Hunter moved with purpose.

  “Safety.”

  That was all he said.

  Her nose wrinkled when they walked through a cloud of stench emanating from a row of outhouses, the sharp smell of urine and feces causing her lungs to shudder with the need to expel the dirty air. She lifted her fingers to her nose, breathing through her mouth until they passed.

  Her wet slippers and the sagging hem of her dress were already discolored with the dust it picked up from the dry paths, proving the rainstorm in Trion had yet to reach Kru.