Page 40 of Dirty December

Instead, she was going to sell herself to some alien cat-man.

The idea of selling her services, whether it was having sex or cleaning a bunker didn’t bother Layla. Growing up poor on Sapien-Three meant that you were always looking for any way to make cash. That was one reason she hadn’t struggled too hard when she woke up in the hold of some strange vessel. Part of her had been relieved when she realized the accommodations were clean and the food was good and plentiful. Another part of her, while still worried, had been curious about what kind of contract she’d been sold into. A contract meant money, or at least food and shelter.

She hadn’t known until she’d explored the media viewer and the limited number of books that she was on a Felix Orbus craft. Most people from the Sapien planets preferred to stick close to their three human-friendly rocks. Those who did leave didn’t usually go to the Felix Orbus planets. Layla wasn’t sure why. But in the last handful of years, ever since she’d been forced to start looking out for herself, she hadn’t met anyone who’d been to that galaxy. The smug feeling was the most comfortable, so Layla tried to hold onto it while she paced in her little room.

Ha. Leonids, Servalis, Lynxians, and Tigerites were so aloof. So stand-offish. They wouldn’t dream of coming to the Sapien planets. They weren’t at any of the Galactic Games that she could remember.

But here I am, taking up space, and we’re weeks away from wherever we’re supposed to land, and what does the big horny lion-man want to do?

She didn’t know.

Curiosity came back.Maybe he just wants a good belly rub?

It wasn’t that interspecies dating wasn’t a thing—it just wasn’therthing. On Sapien-Three, interspecies couples were rare and were usually just there for refueling. She could count on one hand the number of interspecies couples she’d met personally.

He doesn’t want to be a couple. He’s probably bored and doesn’t have a sex droid. The first one pays for my passage and the rest he can pay for with cold, hard credits.

How much should she charge?

Her friends who traded in carnal pleasures usually asked for a thousand credits or more per exchange, but they weregoodat it. They were professional seductresses with skills and moves.

Layla didn’t even have a dress. She had the black blouse and faded jeans she’d been wearing on her date and a simple white robe that came with the clean linens the service droids brought every day.

They’re clean. Everyone says cats are clean. It’ll probably be basic in-and-out stuff.

I wonder if they have fur on their—

“May I enter?”

Layla jumped off her bed so fast that she stumbled and smacked into the glass partition. That wasn’t the little old lion-man. This was a different voice, deeper and...wider somehow. It was almost like a different frequency, radiating in her ears and sliding down to rest in her middle.

“Yes. C-come in.” She tried to lean seductively against the edge of the bed, praying he hadn’t been watching her on somecorridor camera to witness her spectacular burst of clumsiness a moment ago.

The being who stepped up in front of the glass partition was easily seven feet tall. He wore a black suit that looked like it might be a cross between silk and leather, which Layla recognized as Thermagyle, a polyblend of fabrics recommended for extended time in space because of how it adapted to temperature changes and gravitational force fluctuations. Above the suit, which seemed to consist of a tight, chest-hugging shirt and fitted trousers, was a massive head.

A massive head with dark golden eyes spanning a wide feline nose, rounded ears perched above hard brows, and a tawny, brownish-yellow mane that flowed past his shoulders.

Thoughts spilled into her brain.

Tall.

That head! It’s huge.

I wish I had hair like that. I wonder what conditioner he uses?

“Miss Layla?” The voice that rumbled out was businesslike and disdainful.

Layla nodded, her entire perspective changing.Nope. This is not a sex call. This is a “Will you kindly attend to returning my communications and hanging up my suits?” deal.

“I am Rupex, King of this pride, captain of theComet Stalker. Welcome aboard as a passenger.” He pressed one paw to a panel on the side of her chamber.

The glass vanished with a whooshing shift, sliding up into the ceiling. Layla was staring at his paw. It was the size of her head, thick and furry with light brown pads. She wondered if Leonids still had claws, and when did they use them if they weren’t typically on display?

“I am Layla Threewood. Domestic and retail worker. Personal services provided based on a contract-by-contractbasis.” Layla hoped she sounded professional and polished, keeping her eyes locked on the Leonid’s face. She refused to look away, even though she was growing twitchier inside with every passing second. Leonids were supposed to be as intelligent as humans, maybe even more so... but when she looked at those golden eyes with oval pupils, she felt like she was looking at something incredibly foreign and wild, something lost and intimidating.

Rupex nodded. “Would you like to move your quarters to A-Deck? It’s usually for crew, but we are currently en route to pick up our new crew.”

That would explain why she hadn’t seen other people milling about or heard other noises and voices on the ship.

---