Page 9

The Abr security teams and the humans that jumped in to help during the clusterfuck of males near the race’s end now gather up for a debrief. By the way that the leader points to different areas of the grounds, they’re discussing some sort of plan.

One of the men isn’t listening. He’s looking at me. Then I recognize him. He’s the guard that saved me from suffocating beneath the Ginarigon.

He protected me.

Most of the human men that are worth a damn are fighting in the war or involved in securing Earth. A few are in business and government. Even fewer are solo pilots or working the territory like me. With many alien species to pick from, several hundred, last I’d heard based on the Sol expansion bulletin, I’d say I have a better chance at finding an alien mate than a human one.

But that guy— Sure, he was just doing his job. But then why look at me? Checking on me?

I muster a thumb-up but can’t bring myself to smile. I’m still working on my escape plan. If I can get away from my father, I can get away from anyone.

The doors to the mingle celebration pass, and the Ginarigon sets me down. “I’m going to go chat.”

“To look for a sister who will actually screw your little carrot?”

He hisses at me, takes me by the back of my race suit, and stalks through the room. Then the bigger Ginarigon that tackled me and tried to bite-claim me enters with the blue-banded woman. When he sees me, he lets her go, completely uninterested. The young woman watches him walk away, looking hurt.

Fuck this game. It’s not matching mates; it’s breaking hearts.

He stares at me for a few seconds before starting toward me. I back away, catching the attention of the Ginarigon that caught me. Pulling from Teol’s training, I twist sharply and break free. Using the cover of the crowd, I slip as fast as I can toward the nearest exit. Both stay right behind me.

I try to move faster, but with everyone dancing and grinding to the tribal trance music, some standing around eating or making out, it’s a tough maze to navigate without causing a scene.

Before me, a group of chatting racers blocks my route.

The one that almost claimed me catches my wrist, collects me, and presses me against the wall in the back corner. His powerful body pins me in place. He doesn’t say anything, just runs the back of a finger along my cheek, down my neck, and inside the collar of my race suit. He nips at my throat, even when I shy away.

He’s just horny. It’s not because of me.

But I can’t say I hate the attention or the way his eyes look me over like I’m a delicious treat he wants to devour.

“Hey!” The Ginarigon that carried me off the field walks up with another woman under his arm. “That one’s mine!”

The one that holds me ignores him and sweeps his mouth over my neck. Fear rises again. Then I feel his teeth nibble gently, and a new feeling awakens in me.

Heat crawls from my neck down my body, into my core, loosening every muscle. I might let him take it further, might like it. I definitely like the attention and the way he’s willing to confront and even fight others for me.

“Did you hear what I said?” He pulls the other of his kind off of me.

“She’s mine,” the one that holds me rumbles.

The woman under the smaller Ginarigon’s arm shakes her head and slips away from them both. She meets my eyes, runs a finger over her neck, and mouths drug . She points to her teeth, then to the Ginarigons.

I haven’t heard this before, but I have felt strange now and then when fighting Ginarigons in deep space. I always chalked it up to battle fatigue or just fatigue and starvation in general.

The more I think about it, the angrier I get. Adrenaline seems to burn off a bit of the drug.

I use what Teol taught me and peel free the hand that clutches my suit by reaching over his fist and tugging his wrist in a direction that’s unnatural.

He grunts and glares at me as I lurch for the closest door. He swipes at me, but I am smaller and dart under a table before flinging myself into the hallway.

A cameradrone whizzes after me as I search the bottom floor for my room. When I find it, I frantically scan my wristband. The door beeps as it unlocks. He appears in the hallway, sees me, and charges.

I thrust myself inside and slam the door in his face. It promptly latches with loud chunks.

He roars with frustration and punches the door. The screen beside me displays him pacing. He growls and punches the door again. Red lights flash over his body.

Speakers relay a message into the hallway. “Aggressive action toward racers is not permitted. Return to your quarters to cool down or be removed from the game.”

“Zariah,” the room’s AI calls to me from the nearby screen. “Are you hurt?”

“I was unaware Ginarigons can drug us with their teeth,” I admit.

“They are capable of this, yes, much like venomous snakes from Earth. But they are supposed to refrain from it during the race.”

“Fair comparison.”

“Shall I order you room service?” the AI asks.

“I won’t trust it, won’t eat it. So don’t waste it.”

“Understood. I can call your private security and have them escort you to the lunch hall when you are ready.”

“Thank you.” Private security?

“ Shall I do that now?”

“In a moment. Let me catch my breath.”

Leaning back against the wall, I notice the jar of weirdly shaped condoms on the dresser, feel my insides squirm with disgust at the idea of mating after such a night, and hide it in a cabinet. I’m a mess of venom and hormones, struggling to think through my next moves.

What the hell were you thinking, Mom? This is turning into a nightmare!

I slump to sit at the base of the door and rest my head in my hands, breathing through the rest of the weakening venom. I won’t leave my room until I’m certain it no longer affects me.

My head pounds, the lights blur in my vision, and my body feels like I’ve had one too many drinks at the bar minus the upset stomach.

In the time I’m recuperating, I think about the media coverage, how my brother probably knows where I am thanks to it, and that the males were likely fighting over me because they think I have access to my father’s riches. Trouble is, I don’t. And anyone who knows anything about bounty hunters, pirates, or marauders is that they will sacrifice everyone and everything but their money and power.

Anyone with half a brain will know I don’t have access or I wouldn’t be here. Too many males fought each other over me for it to be a coincidence.

I turn on the holovid and watch Abr’s feed. The news banner reads “Alien Male Racers Fight for Deceased Bounty Hunter’s Daughter.”

It’s not Abr’s fault. It falls on the reporter who failed to respect my privacy for a hot story.

Now, I’m never going to be able to leave my room.

“Zariah,” the room’s AI asks. “Do you need medical assistance?”

“No.” I don’t need to draw any more attention to myself.

Another minute passes, and I start to get hungry. I fight the growing rumbles, wanting whatever commotion I’ve caused to simmer down. When I can’t tolerate the hunger any longer, I get to my feet.

“I would like something to eat now. Could you call my security guard, please?”

“Please make yourself comfortable while I contact him.”

I walk to the window and look out at the vast array of ships docked at each end of the complex. The female hangars boast simpler ships, more uniform, and many of the same Terran designs.

For a few moments, I wonder what it’s like to have so much money and power that they can hire people to protect them. I guess that’s all that makes us worthwhile anymore: money and power. It must be why I am always alone. No one wants to join me or my cause.

No one cares anymore.

At the other end of the facility is an array of colorful ships, massive vessels with swooping ailerons, powerful and precisely adjustable engines, and radiant body lights. They come in every shape, from angry porcupines to shards of dark glass and even one that looks like a bundle of snakes the way it billows out from a rippling center and flares into thin tails at the end.

It’s a curious sight, even if I don’t benefit from it. Many species have come to our homeworld. I wish I could learn from them all. Part of me wonders if this awe was what the Sol Federation felt at their first meeting with all the nations where they formed their alliance.

I wish they were here for me. I wish someone cared about me for once. Not my father’s plunder or the potential of my uterus. Just gave a damn about me .

I don’t understand. Why, Mom? “Why the fuck am I here?”

“Zariah. Your guard is outside.”

I thank the AI, not because I have to but because it’s polite. Then I walk to the door and check the screen. I don’t see him outside. “Are you sure?”

“He is to your right.”

“Uh, okay. Thanks.” I crack the door, unsure how this works. I’ve never had a guard, not formally. “Hello?”

A gloved hand opens in front of me as if to hold me back. His voice is a quiet rasp. “Wait.”

After a moment, his hand disappears. “You are clear to exit.”