Page 40 of Baited

Blayn shifts from foot to foot and then offers me his arm. I take it and feel his body vibrating under my touch. I go to pull away.

“No, I like it,” he says, not looking at me as we step into the ground transport. “I like you.”

My insides do a weird drop and recover thing. “I’m just pleased you didn’t want to fly there,” I say as the door closes.

Blayn’s face takes on a hunted look. “I can only fly in the dome or if I’m free,” he murmurs. “I’m never free.”

I look down at his ankle, now encased in a thick heavy boot.

“Will they know…if you fly?” I ask.

“Yes, and they have ways of bringing down a Gryn in flight,” he replies, brow pulled down and his eyes darker than ever.

“Then it’s a good thing we have some transport.” I do a light stroke on his arm, and his feathers rattle. “Destination: Solyom,” I say out loud, and the covered platform moves away through the streets which surround the pleasure house.

Most of the buildings in this district are pleasure houses like the madame’s. Some are in better condition than others, some have worse reputations. Madame and the Lux Pleasure House are not the bottom of the barrel. Perhaps I should count my blessings, given where I might have ended up.

From the look on Blayn’s face, as if I didn’t already know it, he’s never been anywhere near a pleasure house, salubrious or otherwise, given his eyes are about to pop out of his head as we pass some of the places where the pleasure workers wait outside to tempt in punters.

“This is not the dome,” he mutters, mostly to himself.

“You’ve been other places than the dome, haven’t you?” I query.

“Solyom. The amphitheater,” Blayn says, his feathers bristling. “I didn’t like the amphitheater.”

“But you had a family…”

He shakes his head. “I don’t remember.”

He looks out of the transport window, shutting the conversation down, as we move into the main retail areas of Tatatunga, but his hand curls around mine in a move I wasn’t expecting.

We travel in silence for a while, the streets and markets getting busier until the transport chimes we are near our destination. Blayn’s wings flare at the sound.

“If you didn’t fly, how did you get around?”

He nods ahead of us, and I see it, the dome. It rises up like a dark cloud, dominating this part of Tatatunga.

“I walked,” Blayn says as the door hisses open and all the smells of the market flood in.

His feathers rise like porcupine spines, then quickly slick back as a large Remek warrior, all horns and attitude, comes close to the doorway. I’m pulled behind huge, dark wings as Blayn releases a blood curdling growl.

“Mine,” he says through large fangs.

The Remek takes a step back, a look of shock, presumably from finding himself face to face with Blayn who is looking bigger than ever, given he’s holding his wings up high.

“Forgive me, gladiator.” He gives Blayn a short bow. “I did not see you had a mate.”

Blayn shakes himself, “Retah?” he queries.

“At your service.” The Remek male smiles and bows once again.

“This is Retah,” Blayn says to me, all evidence of his earlier outburst gone. “He makes the weapons for the dome.”

“Hi,” I say.

“Has Blayn brought you to his favorite place outside the dirt of the dome?” Retah asks.

I can hear the growl inside Blayn, but impressively he keeps it under wraps.

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