Page 28 of A Darkside Interlude

“Yea, it was a surprise to me too, Blue. Yer a top stealer and a solid asset on tha street, but this client’s offered crazy money. An offer I just can’t refuse…” He shrugged, as if to say: sorry.

That was probably the closest a Darkside gangster like K would ever get to being remorseful.

Unable to run, unable to protest, and unable to fight, Mari stared past the Collector, trying to think of a way out of this. But nothing came. Her mind was paralyzed with shock.

“Who’s the client?” she asked quietly, an unpleasant sensation crawling across her skin as she imagined the possibilities.

“I ain’t at liberty to say. Ya’ll find out in good time.” The Collector reached into his jacket and retrieved a long metal rod—a shock-rod. “Now, Maribel, are we gonna do this tha easy way, or tha hard way? Ya gotta stop wastin’ my time, bitch. I got things to do.”

Mari took a deep breath and closed her eyes. In her mind’s eye, she yearned for a silver-skinned stranger with scary-but-kind eyes, who seemed to live and breathe violence, yet had treated her with the gentlest of touches.

But that was just fantasy.

This was reality.

On bare feet, Mari followed the Collector as he turned and started to climb down the drop-ladder.

At least Arturo escaped.

It was a bittersweet consolation prize. The Syndicate didn’t know her little brother. She’d protected him fiercely for so many years, and maybe—just maybe—he had a shot at getting out of this place for good.

But Arturo was also stubborn. I’m gonna go and find that boss alien…

Could he even find the guy? Artoo was smart, but he was just a skinny twelve-year-old brat from the Dust Alleys.

Mari wasn’t counting on a miracle. She couldn’t just sit back and vainly hope for some unlikely hero to come and rescue her. Those sorts of things didn’t happen in real life.

The Syndicate saw all, heard all, knew all, owned all.

She might escape eventually, but there was always a price to pay, and Mari had always feared she’d end up paying with her body.

Shit.

But what did she expect? After all, this was Darkside, where corruption and beauty stared back at one another through a dark, glittering mirror.

Chapter Thirteen

Humans talked too much.

That was the conclusion Iskar reached as he stared across the light-filled gallery.

Xalikian’s tall form could easily be spotted in the crowd. With his long platinum hair and black horns, the ex-prince drew plenty of attention from humans, particularly those of the female variety.

True to form, Xalikian coldly ignored the admiring looks as he chatted with Teluria’s mayor. That was as it should be. Xalikian was mated, and Sera Kazharan and the twins awaited him back on base. On Kythia, before the gender imbalance had occurred, a Kordolian male would only ever take a single mate.

This whole notion of sharing; it was so very un-Kordolian. In truth, they were a species that preferred to be consumed by their obsessions, whether they be power, riches, revenge, violence… or a most prized and treasured mate.

Iskar caught Torin’s gaze as the First Division warrior deftly plucked a glass of water from a service-bot’s tray. Torin stood beside Xalikian, appearing cool and deceptively relaxed as he shadowed the prince. Of course, Xal had spent many orbits running and hunting with the Aikun, and he could more than take care of himself, but this wasn’t Kythia and it wasn’t Silence, and both the General and Iskar had trust issues.

They didn’t trust humans or anyone outside the inner circle. They’d seen too much of the Universe.

So Akkadian had sent his Head of Security and a First Division warrior to the party. As usual, Torin had been the only one to actually volunteer for the job. Odd bastard that he is. Iskar couldn’t imagine any of the other elite warriors willingly attending this type of gathering. Several of them were absent anyway, having left Earth to carry out various missions in the central sectors.

A smile appeared on Torin’s face as he slowly sipped his drink. He tipped his head at Iskar in acknowledgement before his attention was diverted by a curvaceous red-haired female.

But no matter how preoccupied he was, Torin could turn deadly in a fraction of a siv if the situation called for it. That’s why Iskar could afford to momentarily become distracted by the voices that swirled around him.

“Hey, Izzy, check out the one standing over there by the door.”

---