Page 45 of Bound

“Time to get back to Tatatunga,” I say, flinging open the door. “This time in comfort.”

“Is that…ground transport?” Chrissie gasps and then looks around. “Do you think these are all transport?”

“I suspect most of what’s in the rest is used for narcotic production, and this is what they use in an emergency to take away their crop.” I press the side of the vehicle, and it glides out of the box, waiting for us. “So, their loss is our gain.”

“We’re stealing from narcotic growers?” Chrissie’s eyes are wide. “Isn’t that dangerous?”

“My sweet mate, you’re standing next to one of the most dangerous creatures on Trefa. I can guarantee nothing and no one is going to deny me what I want.” I shake out my wings. “Your transport awaits, Chrissie.”

She flashes me the best smile I’ve ever seen, one filled with life, with laughter, with wickedness. One without pain and fear as she steps into the vehicle, and I join her.

“Tatatunga,” I announce as the thing rises up and, without any ceremony, shoots over the canopy heading west at an impressive pace.

“Wow,” Chrissie says. “Fast.”

“If you need to get your paraxio away sharp, this is the craft you want.” I give the side a pat. A small hatch opens up, making me flare my wings.

“Steady, mydangerousgladiator.” Chrissie laughs. “Or you might end up slaying these snacks.” She starts pulling out packet after packet of rations and handing them to me. “And given the night you’ve had, you’ll probably be wanting something to eat.”

CHRISSIE

The amount of food Rych can put away is impressive. He makes me feel hungry enough to devour the contents of one of the packages. It’s mostly sweet. Crackers, tubes of soft creamy paste in various flavors, and balls with a similar texture to boba which burst in the mouth. I can’t remember enjoying anything as much.

Rych looks deeply satisfied, sat with his wings relaxed and his arms stretched out over the bench next to me. He watches with a different type of hunger as I lick my fingers clean before looking out of the window.

“Tatatunga,” he says with not a little venom. “We’re on the outskirts.”

I risk a look and see the dusty shanty towns below.

Rych is at the controls, and he growls. “It’s on a locked course, presumably back to its masters, vrexing bot,” he rasps. “All I can do is slow us down, but we’re going to have to leave before we come to a full stop.”

“Leave? You mean bail out while this thing is moving?”

“I have to use my wings for something occasionally.” Rych grins at me, filled with masculine glee.

“I’d rather not.”

“Ah, my sweet creature, we don’t have any choice. But you know you’re safe with me.”

I refrain from saying tossing me out of the transport doesn’t seem safe in any way.

“We’re closing in on the dome.” He holds out his hand and pulls me into him. “It’s time to leave.”

The door snaps open and wind rushes in, sucking out all the debris from our meal.

“I’m really not sure about this, Rych,” I say.

“Trust me, little spark,” he responds. “I’ve battled a ziggurat in the dome. This is a lazy afternoon in the baths to me.”

His arm tightens around me, and he flings us out into the rushing wind and aerial traffic. We tumble for what seems like forever until his wings open and with an abruptness which jerks me against him, we’re no longer falling.

We’re flying.

Gliding over the rooftops of Tatatunga, it looks almost serene, even if the smells we fly through are less than fragrant.

And then I see it. The dome.

It rises up out of the low lying buildings like a boulder rolled from a vicious ice age. It has always been here, it will always be here. A temple to death.

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