Page 37 of Pact with the Alien Devil

A soft laugh in my ear. “You know, I’m starting to enjoy your sense of humor.”

“Who says I’m joking?”

Another laugh. “I’ve spotted him. Near the front of the auction room. He’s got two guards – standard muscle, nothing special. Looks like he’s waiting for something.”

“Or someone,” I added. “Stay where you are. I’m moving in.”

The hidden door opened at my touch – Iria must have sliced the security while I wasn’t looking. The auction room was smaller, more intimate, with rows of seats facing a small stage. About thirty potential buyers sat in hushed anticipation, while a tall, spindly alien in formal attire prepared to begin the proceedings.

Miggs sat near the front, just as Iria had expected, flanked by two human bodyguards in matching black jackets.

The room fell silent as I walked down the center aisle. Even the auctioneer paused mid-sentence. Miggs turned, and I watched his expression change from confusion to recognition to fear in the span of seconds.

But then, surprisingly, he smiled.

“Korvan!” he called out, too loudly, too confidently. “Didn’t expect you to show up at my little business meeting. Care to bid?”

I stopped a few meters from him, aware that his bodyguards had shifted their positions slightly, hands moving toward concealed weapons.

“You’ve betrayed the Fangs for the last time, Miggs.”

His smile faltered only slightly. “Now, now. Business is business. No need for?—”

Miggs never finished his sentence. Instead, he pressed something in his hand, and suddenly the lights in the room flashed blindingly bright. The crowd erupted in panic. I heardthe distinctive whine of blasters powering up, and I ducked just as the first shots flew over my head.

The bodyguards had drawn their weapons, firing wildly to cover Miggs as he bolted toward a side door. I rolled behind a row of seats as the auction-goers scrambled for exits, screaming and shoving each other.

I drew my own blaster, fired twice. The first shot caught one bodyguard in the shoulder, spinning him around. The second hit the other straight in the chest. Both fell, but the damage was done – Miggs had disappeared into the chaos.

“He’s running!” I snarled into the comm. “East side door!”

“I see him!” Iria’s voice came through clearly despite the noise. “He’s heading for the delivery entrance. I’m going after him!”

“Iria, wait?—”

But the comm went silent. I cursed, kicking aside a fallen chair as I sprinted toward the side door. Two more of Miggs’ men appeared, blocking my path. I didn’t slow down. The first one I hit with a flying tackle, smashing him into the wall hard enough to crack the decorative panel behind him. The second got off one shot – which burned past my ear – before my fist connected with his throat.

I left them both gasping on the floor and burst through the side door into a service corridor. The alarm system had activated, bathing everything in pulsing red light. I heard shouting from the direction of the main club, security personnel trying to contain the situation.

Following the corridor, I found myself in the kitchen. Abandoned food sizzled on cooking surfaces, and staff hid beneath counters. I pushed through the back door into an alley, just in time to see a flash of auburn hair disappear around a corner up ahead.

Iria.

I ran after her, my longer stride eating up the distance, but when I rounded the corner, the alley stretched empty before me, branching into three different directions.

I stopped, used every keen sense at my disposal.

There… the sound of running footsteps fading away.

“Iria,” I hissed into the comm. Nothing but static answered me.

I stood there, breathing hard, torn between fury and admiration. She wasn’t just brave—she was reckless. And for some reason, I couldn’t stand the thought of her doing this alone.

I chose the middle path and started running.

IRIA

Ispotted Miggs ducking through the side exit, his slick figure silhouetted for just a split second against the emergency lighting of the corridor. My body reacted before my mind even processed it.

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