Page 35 of Kissed By the Alien
Damon’s hand nears the knife at his side. “Why the fuck do you think I have blasters?”
“Little Snake said you have some.”
Damon grabs Max by the back of his neck. “Shut that fucker up. Now.” He shoves Max forward, and the guy heads outside the hangar.
“Look, I’m not here to get anyone in trouble. But Ineeda blaster. If you’re not the right guy, can you tell me who is?”
“Why do you need a blaster?”
“None of your fucking business!” This tap dance interrogation of his is wearing on me. He’s not questioning any of the other buyers. Just the lone woman. “Look, fuck-face, either you’re selling or you’re not. I have the money, but not on me so don’t think you can rob me. I have a score to settle and a regular gun’s not gonna get me past security, so let’s leave it at that. Do you have any blasters or not?”
His body eases. I’ve learned over the past few years that blending in and coming across as believable is often all about attitude. Figuring out the right attitude for a specific guy and situation is the tricky part.
“Five hundred credits. Tomorrow 10 pm. The bridge at Echo Park.”
“A bridge? Could you be any more cliché?” Images from old spy movies Dad shows in our media room pops into my head.
“Practical. You screw me over, we dump you into the lake.”
Okay. Not cliché. “Three fifty and you have a deal.”
“Five hundred.”
“Don’t fucking think you can overcharge me because I’m a woman.”
“How would you know what we charge?” Damon asks.
I don’t, but going along with everything he says will make me come across as too easy, too agreeable, and he’ll get suspicious all over again. I don’t need to meet him tomorrow. I just need to get out of here alive so I can relay what I’ve learned to Lutan.
“Little Snake told me you’d overcharge me.”
Pure ire fills Damon’s eyes. “I’m gonna kill that mother-fucker.”
I resist the urge to make excuses for Little Snake to keep him from getting killed, but I’m not responsible for what happens to him. “Do we have a deal or what? Three fifty.”
He remains silent for a moment. “Four-fifty. And only because you have balls, Thirty-One.”
“Deal.” I shove my hair back into my baseball cap and turn to leave. Two of his guys block the door. “Now what?” I ask with an exasperated sigh. “Did I forget to say thank you or something?”
That’s when all hell breaks loose. One of his bodyguards pulls out a gun and shoots across the hangar at two males moving at a fast clip. Blue males. Withhorns.
“She’s a plant!” Damon yells as he charges at me.
I pull out my gun from under my shirt and point it at him, stopping him. “I don’t know or care what’s going on, or what the fuck you’re trying to pin on me, but I’m walking out of here, Damon.”
From the corner of my eye, I see movement to my left. I turn. Big mistake.
Damon rushes at me, his knife in the air ready to come down on me.
I aim and shoot.
The gun doesn’t fire!
A flash of blue catches my eye as I’m knocked into one of Damon’s bodyguards. The zyanthan trading punches with Damon has his back to me, but it looks like Lutan.
That information doesn’t have time to sink in as the guy I knocked over whips his knife toward me. I shove my gun in his face.
“The gun’s empty,” he snarls.
