Page 38 of Caged

“Yes, okay, but you promised no killing.” I sigh, reaching for the chip, which he holds up higher.

“I promised no killing if you were not in danger.”

I contemplate the compromise. No one pays any attention to a small cloaked human anyway. I shrug.

“Fine, I stay in the open at all times. Anything else?” I ask, stretching up on tiptoes, balancing myself against him.

Sylas’s lips brush mine and he brings down the credit chip, but now I don’t want it. The clawed hand cups the back of my head, and he dominates me with a kiss that shouldn’t be legal.

And by the time he releases me, I’ve virtually forgotten my own name. The clawed finger he’s slipped under my chin is the only thing holding me up. He presses the credit chip into the palm of my hand.

“I’ll collect the rest of my price later, little feather,” he rumbles, all sin and feathers.

I don’t so much walk towards the main area of the hub as stagger.

Underneath the cooling solar wings, there are a number of transports, some which look sleek and safe and some which look like they’re held together with the alien equivalent of duct tape and blue rope. A Cirmos lounges against the hull of the worst looking one of the lot.

Her ears twitch in my direction, but she’s watching a small vid screen, her striped tail twitching from side to side. I have a bit of a soft spot for the Cirmos, given they all look like tabby cats.

“What do you want?” she asks, not looking up from her screen.

“I’m looking for transport to Chohan for me and a…friend,” I say, taking a few steps closer to her.

“The massive Gryn gladiator over there? The one trying to look like he’s part of the structure and failing?”

“Um…yeah?”

“He’s your mate, right?” She lifts her head and fixes me with her green cat eyes.

“Sort of. We only met yesterday.”

“It’s ten thousand credits each, half now, half when we get to Chohan,” the Cirmos says, pressing a blue button on the side of her craft which hisses out smoke, a door opening and a gangway unfolding in a series of painful hitches.

I look around at the other transport. “I might get cheaper elsewhere…”

“You won’t,” the Cirmos says, climbing up into the craft. “And you won’t find anyone else who will take a mated Gryn either.”

I poke my head inside and wrinkle my nose at the shabby interior.

“Eight thousand each,” I say. “And we leave straight away.”

The Cirmos mews out a laugh. “You’ve got a nerve.” She leans into me, her dark lips curling up like a cat’s. “I like that. You’ve got a deal.”

She looks over to where Sylas is now no longer even attempting to hide. The shoulders of his wings are hunched, and he frankly, looks like he’s about to explode, and not in a nesty way.

“Get him over here and out of sight. I need to get some supplies and we can go. Travel to Chohan will take a couple of nova-days.” She turns her green gaze back to me, lips hitched to show sharp fangs. “And I’ll take the payment now, if you don’t mind, little human.”

SYLAS

“Smells,” I grumble with a sniff at our less than salubrious surroundings.

This is not a nest I want myeregrito spend any time in.

“Shhh!” Alex hushes me. “She was the only one who would take you…I mean us.”

“She’s taking more than just us.” I lift up a bulkhead container to see a number of bugs skitter away. “I’m going to get feather mites.”

I shake out my wings.

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