Total pages in book: 149
Estimated words: 135784 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 679(@200wpm)___ 543(@250wpm)___ 453(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 135784 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 679(@200wpm)___ 543(@250wpm)___ 453(@300wpm)
"She's cold and scared," I growl at them. "Let me comfort her."
"Tell us where the credits are stashed," a second alien says, coming up to us. "You can play with the female all you want after that."
I snort. The moment I tell them anything, I'm dead. The only way I get out of this alive is holding out on information for as long as possible. "What credits?"
"We know there's a stash on this ship. It's a pirate ship, is it not?" They nudge one of the blasters into my face again.
I shrug, deliberately not looking in its direction. "I'm just here to take her to the port captain wants her at."
"And your human? And your carinoux? Those are both pricey pieces, friend." The V'tarrian smirks.
"They belong to the captain. I'm just watching them."
"If everything belongs to the captain, then you won't mind telling us where his credits are stashed." The avian alien gives me an evil look. "We'll even cut you in if you work with us, friend."
Sure they will. "Go kef yourself. I'm not telling you anything."
The butt of one of the blasters slams into my brow. It makes a loud cracking noise, but doesn't hurt all that much thanks to the plating on my forehead. I give my head a little shake and glare up at them. "Gonna have to do better than that, friend."
This time, the alien kicks me, hard, his clawed foot landing at the joint of my shoulder. I slam backward, and my arm sizzles with feedback as my circuits flare, the wiring stretched. If I were a normal male, that kick probably would have knocked my arm out of socket. As it is, it just sends pain rocketing through my system. I groan, rolling around on the floor even as my head fills with the pinging alerts of my prosthetic in danger of going offline.
“Kef…you…” I grit out.
"You can make this easy on yourself, or you can make this difficult." The avian looms over me, planting a foot at my shoulder again. "All we want are the credits. Tell us and we'll let you leave with the female."
That's when I know they're lying. If they didn't care about taking Sophie with them, they'd be kicking her, too, trying to get information out of her. She's not marked up, and as awful as it is, I know it's because a pretty slave fetches a lot more than a beaten one. I glare up at the alien. "You think I'm a fool?"
The V'tarrian leans on my shoulder, until my joints crack painfully.
"Leave him alone," Sophie sobs, crawling across the floor toward me. "You're hurting him."
"It wouldn't be necessary if he cooperated," the avian says. "Look at how unreasonable he is." And he steps on me again, sending a fresh wave of pain through my body.
I can feel where the wiring is coming loose, and it sends needles of pain through my body as if it were a real limb. It's a nightmare.
It…gives me an idea.
80
SOPHIE
I can't stop crying as they abuse Jerrok, trying to get him to admit where the guns and credits are stashed on the ship. He takes all that they unleash on him, not saying a thing as they hit his face, kick him, and use the butts of their guns as bludgeons. It's not just terror that makes me cry. I'm so damn angry and frustrated that I'm helpless. That every time I get to my feet to help him, they shove me backward as if I'm nothing. Jerrok shoots me a warning look and I know he doesn't want me to interfere.
So I stop trying to help and just bite my knuckles, watching.
They don't touch me, at least. I'm not sure if that's good or bad. The two men continue to brutalize Jerrok until the door opens and a third bird-alien steps through. "Any luck?" he asks.
"Nothing."
His feather's ruffle and he makes a sound that reminds me of an angry crow. "Leave it for now and come help me search, then. We don't have much time before we meet up with the others."
So there are more coming? Or are they meeting up with a group that's going to haul us back to V'tarr? Either way, I'm not a fan. We have to do something, and quickly.
I hold my breath as they file back out of the room, leaving Jerrok rolling on the floor in agony. The moment they're gone, I rush to his side. "Jerrok! Are you okay?"
He groans, clutching at his arm. His eyes are squeezed tightly shut, as if the pain is too much. "Are they…gone?"
"For now." I glance around the room, but we're alone.
Immediately, he sits up, wincing as he rotates his arm. "Keffing bastards." He tilts his head, neck cracking, and I blink in surprise at the transformation. "Think they're so tough," he grumbles. "I want to wring every one of their skinny necks."