Page 11 of Baited

His eyes narrow again, looking at the food, at me, and back at the food again.

“Sit, eat,” I suggest, sitting down myself on one of the two couches.

He still hesitates.

“I won’t touch you,” I add.

It’s as if I’ve lit a fire under him. He vaults onto the couch, wings raised, and immediately is gobbling down the various dishes I’ve laid out. He doesn’t seem to take issue with anything I’ve chosen and his rate of consumption is pretty incredible.

Finally, it slows, and he sits back with a sigh, patting his stomach and, for a second, closing his eyes. They spring open almost straight away, dark pools of suspicion.

I tuck my hands under my legs, an action he watches with predatory interest.

“Blayn,” he says, snatching up some roast meat and shoving it in his mouth. “S’my name,” he says through the food.

“Hello, Blayn,” I reply.

“You don’t touch me,” he snarls, damp feathers flaring.

“I won’t touch you.”

His shoulders relax a tiny bit as those dark eyes rake over me. I suspect he’s wondering what sort of threat I am and how to deal with me if I make any sort of move in his direction. Then, with practiced stealth, he slowly goes back to the food and is gobbling it down again in no time, all the while keeping his eyes on me.

What follows is an awkward two nova-hours where he stares at me and I stare back at him. I’ve never been good at small talk, and he isn’t a talker anyway. Any attempts at conversation are met with a grunt or a growl.

He eats,oh boy does he eat,and at one point I think he might have fallen asleep, but a noise outside of the cubicle has his eyes springing open and every muscle in his tightly honed body on edge.

Eventually there is a knock on the door, and with no ceremony at all, four black clad Zarvu guards burst in and, spotting Blayn, head straight for him. His wings flare and hit the furniture. The guards seem to panic, their long poles crackling with electricity. Blayn bats them away and leaps onto the bed. Followed by two guards, he makes a break for the door and is brought up short by it being filled with a grizzled looking Xnosson bull.

“Just submit, Blayn. Make this easier on all of us.”

He looks over at where I’ve flattened myself against the wall and tilts a horn. “Make it easier on the little female who has her work cut out with you.”

Blayn, who is seemingly about to climb the walls, glances over at me and instantly, his demeanor changes. He holds out his wrists to the guards, the injuries there still livid and red. A set of cuffs is snapped on them and he is ushered out of the door.

By the time I get to the doorway, they’re all in the lift, Blayn towering over his captors, huge wings nearly blocking them out.

He stares at me, dark eyes boring into my soul, as the doors close, and he is gone.

BLAYN

My head aches. I can’t get her perfume out of it, no matter how hard I try. When I close my eyes, she is there, her beautiful face, eyes like glittering jewels, and her tiny body.

Izzy.

I was caught up in not being touched by any other creature, especially the Oykig female, and it’s as if I didn’t see Izzy until it was too late.

“Do you think the Gryn had a good time at the pleasure house?” One of the two Zarvu sat either side of me in the ground transport chuckles. “They’re normally there all night.”

“Not this one,” the second Zarvu says, sat on my other side. “This one never gets hired out for the night. It’s broken.”

“I’d like it if they hired me out,” the third guard says, sat across from us in the small, dimly lit space. “I don’t need paying neither.” He grinds his hips.

The obscene action rips a snarl from deep within my chest.

“Shut it, Gryn, or you’ll get a shock stick to the head.” The one across from me says, squaring his shoulders.

I slam my head against his, and he falls to the side, unconscious. My wing takes care of the guard on my left side,leaving only the one on my right. I stare at him. He shifts in his seat, and I lift my bound hands, catching him on his chin and sending him sprawling too.

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