Page 14 of A Darkside Interlude

He hadn’t killed her—yet. He could very easily have done so, a thousand times over.

“That will do. Put the dagger back as you found it, in its sheath. Get the fibrogel tube and do as I told you.”

Guided by feel alone, she took the small tube from the pouch at his side. Like everything else he owned, it was also black, with a bold red stripe marking one end.

“Hold the marked end against the wound.”

Mari did just that, and was surprised when a silver colored gel poured from the tube and covered the entire surface of the wound. She still couldn’t see what color his skin was—a vital clue as to his origins—because everything was coated in slick black blood.

Even her fingers.

The silver material surged and writhed, as if it were a living thing. As it filled the defect, a small silver bump emerged, growing longer and longer until it solidified and dropped from the wound-site.

It hit the floor with a solid thunk.

Mari’s eyes widened as she realized what she was looking at.

A large metal bullet.

The alien gel-stuff had burrowed into the stranger’s flesh and dug out the bullet. Now the bleeding had completely stopped, and the silver substance stretched across the wound, forming a seamless patch.

Magic.

People on Earth would pay a fortune for this kind of stuff. What kind of race possessed such advanced medical technology?

The stranger shrugged his injured shoulder, testing it. “It is adequate.” The liquid silver settled into his wound, peeling away from the surrounding skin, leaving it clean and bare.

And silver.

Silver skin…

The penny dropped.

“Y-you’re Kordolian,” she gasped. No other species had skin like that. Trepidation and excitement shot through her.

Ever since their dark ships had appeared in Earth’s orbit, the Networks had been awash with news and speculation about these mysterious aliens.

For months, Earth’s human population had lived under the threat of an imminent invasion. After all, the Kordolians had a reputation for being vicious fighters and ruthless conquerors. Media outlets had gone wild with talk of war and devastation. Doomsday prophets had appeared on every street corner, warning of the coming apocalypse. Unscrupulous smugglers and pirates had taken advantage of the chaos, selling escape-tickets to far-flung destinations for ridiculously inflated prices.

Months passed. Nothing happened.

The Kordolians stayed, but they didn’t invade. Some sort of agreement was reached, and somehow, they became Earth’s unlikely allies.

Eventually, the hype died down. People went back to their dull, ordinary lives. The threat of invasion was mostly forgotten about.

And then one day, news broke that the Kordolian Empire had fallen. For the most part, people on Earth didn’t pay much attention. Sector One was so far away, and Earth was insignificant in the grand scheme of things.

So what if their Empire had fallen? Nothing had changed. The Kordolians were still here. The Dust Alleys was still a shit-hole. Mari was still broke. She didn’t have the time to try and understand galactic politics. She was too busy trying to survive and keep the fucking Collector off her back.

She was scared of her assigned Collector, but now she was much more scared of the tall alien male who was currently propping her up on one strong, muscular arm.

With a soft grunt, the Kordolian slowly moved his left arm. What? She’d thought his arm was too badly injured to move. Was the silver gel-stuff that effective? His hand came up, and suddenly the dark glasses were gone.

Deep crimson eyes stared back at her, framed by startlingly pale eyelashes. Actually, for such an intimidating guy, he had very pretty eyelashes.

Dumbass. How had that thought even occurred to her at a time like this?

Mari’s heartbeat went nuts. She forgot about the pain in her feet. She forgot to breathe.

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