Page 71 of Baited

She glares at me before her face splits into her famous smile. Mostly because if you see it, chances are something horrible will happen, but I’m long past caring. My life can’t get any worse.

“Our transport to Sartak is waiting, young female,” the madame says.

I give Riklinn one last hug and get on board. The door closes, and I wave as the transport lifts off and joins the stream of traffic above Tatatunga.

“You didn’t need to come with me,” I say to break the silence.

“Correct, but you need me.” The madame is checking her make-up and hair in a screen, which she puts into her voluminous bag.

She also has several other pieces of large luggage compared to my single one, which contains everything I own. Save my credits of course, the ones Yelii stole.

“I thought Sartak wasn’t as bad as the procurator made out.” I lean back in my seat, watching the other transport traffic go by.

Flying makes me think of Blayn, and I have to dig my fingernails into my hand to stop the tears. They’re not going to help him after all.

“It’s not, but it does need…handling. You’ll do better with a guide,” she says.

I’m not going to disagree. It doesn’t matter I’ve been on another planet for a nova-year, I’m well aware I don’t know anything, or hardly anything. I touch the new scar behind my ear. Not being able to read or write hasn’t exactly helped my education on an alien planet either.

“Is it bothering you?” the madame asks.

“No, it’s fine,” I say as we pass a hovering advertising board and I can read it. Not that I’d ever need something to soothe dry tentacles, but apparently someone does. “Thanks,” I add.

“I can understand why you might have not trusted me, Izzy.” Madame stares out of the window. “But you need to trust me now.”

A sigh blooms in my chest. What other options have I got?

“I guess…”

“You are in love with the Gryn?”

“Yes.” The word hiccups out of me.

“And he says you are his mate?”

“Yes, hiseregri.” I hope I haven’t mangled the pronunciation. Saying the word makes my heart jump into my throat.

“And you mated with him?”

Unbelievably, because I’m speaking with a pleasure house madame, and I was a pleasure worker, my cheeks are still heating with embarrassment.

“Yes.” I hold up a hand. “And before you say anything, I know it wasn’t part of my job.”

“You were supposed to get him used to being touched. And if anyone needed a mate and mating, I’d say that particular Gryn did.”

She shuffles her clothing as the transport dips, pulling away from the other traffic and following a new flight path towards a large open area which is buzzing with larger transport vehicles.

I hold her gaze, wondering if I should say something about the knotting. I decide against it.

“Where are we going?”

“Spaceport,” she replies, as if this is an easier conversation. “We’ll pick up an intercontinental transport from there.”

“How long will it take?”

“About three nova-days.”

My stomach chills. “He’s a long way away,” I hear myself whisper.

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