Page 27 of Seven Oars
“Hell if I’m not.”
“Isn’t yours to take, Galan.”
“Whose is it? He’s dead!”
Without warning, a shorter Rix with a pugnacious, flattened face launched from the shadows and punched Galan.
Just like that, a brutal fight erupted within feet of the women.
They pressed back to the wall in a vain attempt to put distance between themselves and the violent predators.But there was no room, no escape from this sudden and unprovoked violence raging under the impassive watch of the other pirates.
The huge, scar-marked Striker came back to check on Phex, seemingly oblivious to the brawl.
Except, it wasn’t the Striker.
Rosamma blinked.
There were two large scarred pirates.
The real Striker, the one who had greeted them, had scars along the right side of his head and a trisected eyebrow.
This one was just as menacing, with deep gouges carved onto the left side of his skull, warping his eyelid and shrinking the skin around his eye socket.
In a contest of who was the most terrifying, it could go either way.
“He’s in bad shape.” The not-Striker sucked his teeth.
Another pirate joined him. This one had a shaven head, small, close-set eyes, and large hairy ears that stuck out like radar dishes.
He wasn’t Rix but a Tarai, an odd one out.
“He’ll croak,” the Tarai agreed.
Rosamma’s heart began to ache.
The rabid fight over the sleeping node ended as suddenly as it had begun, and the former combatants clustered around Phex.
A very tall, very thin pirate shouldered his way forward.
“I will finish him off, Striker.”
Rosamma’s breath made a whistling sound.
The short, pugnacious pirate—shorter only compared to the scarred Rix—whirled around.“What was that noise?”
The placid-faced Galan screwed up his face.“Who cares, Nud?”
Daphne opened her mouth and wailed.
“Shut the fuck up,” Nud barked.“Do any of you slimy slugs understand when I‘m talking to you?”
Daphne wailed louder.
Alyesha pinched Rosamma from behind.“Talk. You’re the spokeswoman.”
“Yes,” Rosamma croaked in Universal.“We understand.”
Nud only grew more annoyed.
