Page 49 of Monsters in Love: Lost in the Stars

Zil scanned the flight deck, impatience twisting within his belly. He did not understand why he was here. Why was he even indulging this foolish female? She knew her choices; he should have left her to figure it out on her own while he continued to strip the engine. He was wasting his time, and he could not figure out why he was even bothering. This was not his concern.

Exhaling heavily in annoyance, he scraped his claws along his neck and wrinkled his nose at the captain’s remains while Daisy grunted in her attempt to drag one of the male’s boots free from his feet. Despite the fact that her mouth produced an unending stream of words and far too much attitude, she was at least amusing to watch. At the moment she was providing vast amounts of entertainment just by her struggle in stripping the human. Naturally, first she had tried to order him to do it and that had been entertaining, too—especially when he declined. Now, however, he was trying to decipher exactly why she was struggling so hard to remove the uniform.

Of all the crew, the captain was the closest to the female’s small build. It should not have posed so much difficulty. And yet the female was weaker than a juvenile Daranthiki. Every little task seemed to be accompanied by a great deal of tugging and a surprising amount of cursing coming from her pink lips. Those same lips twisted in a grimace when she suddenly looked up at him.

“You really are just going to watch, aren’t you?” she demanded, her voice scathing.

He glanced down at the body dismissively before meeting her eyes. “I do not wish to touch it.”

Zil just barely restrained his laughter when her mouth fell open to gape at him in disbelief. “Wait, after all the crap you gave me about not wanting to touch a badly decomposing body, you are refusing to help me for the same reason?”

“That is not entirely accurate,” he corrected in an impassive voice. “I just refuse to follow the orders that you feel far to free to dictate to me. You are not my superior and I do not owe it to you to shoulder your burden, however you may feel about that. Besides,” he wrinkled his nose with distaste at the corpse, “it is disgusting and not at all hygienic.”

Daisy scoffed angrily as she gave one last vicious tug to the boot and promptly fell over back onto her ass when said gave with a sucking pop. She gagged a little at the boot before tossing it to the floor beside her with a scowl. One that she quickly focused on him.

“I can’t believe you’re concerned with whether or not something is hygienic. Aren’t junkers supposed to laugh in the face of dirt to make a quick credit?”

He lifted his brows at her surly comment. She was certainly riled now. It was interesting to watch as her cheeks grew red, her lips darkened and trembled even as the flesh around them grew paler, and her eyes flashed with anger. He could not quite decide if it was attractive or utterly hideous.

Perhaps it had been too long since he had lain with a female. That would certainly explain his uncharacteristic indulgence.

“One,” he replied, lifting a finger, “assisting you does not earn me credits. Unless you have some available to transfer immediately via comm, then nothing compels me to do anything for you.”

Her lips pressed together angrily but she shook her head so violently that he guessed that she was highly displeased to admit it. “No,” she ground out. “Because of the high risks in space, my bank will not release funds unless done from an official branch on an Earth colony. I brought credits with me, but?—”

“But they were with your luggage,” he supplied, his amusement growing. Poor little female had not even begun to figure out how screwed she was.

She gave him a jerky nod and swallowed nervously as reality finally began to dawn. Strangely, his amusement subsided and an uncomfortable feeling of sympathy for her replaced it. He immediately pushed it away. Softer feelings never did a Daranthiki any favors, particularly when it came to small, ridiculously fragile humans who had a tendency to stab their generous lovers and mates in the back at the first opportunity.

“What’s two?”

Her grumbled question caught him by surprise, and he felt the corners of his mouth hitch in response.

“Ah, two is simple—I am not a junker. Salvaging is at the bottom of a long list of things I would undertake to support myself. I believe murder and thievery is right above it, in fact,” he added with a dry chuckle.

She blinked at the sound of his laughter, and for a moment he wondered if it was true that humans spread bizarre rumors about his race. Did they think that Daranthiki could not laugh? Her eyes lowered, a look of confusion briefly coloring her expression before disappearing completely. He was suddenly very curious as to what was going on in that head of hers. It was not fear. That he would recognize. No, she was not afraid, but he had surprised her and he wanted to know why. Despite the fact that her constant talking exhausted him, he had to admit that he was impressed that her mind had so much verbiage to spew at him. It was as if it did not slow down for even a moment. He begrudgingly admitted that it was perhaps a little fascinating. It was still highly irritating, however.

“I see.” Her small pink tongue darted out and slicked over her lips, and Zil felt a sensation of pressure drop through his belly. He had gone far, far too long without female companionship. Her green eyes rose to peer up at him, her lank brown hair framing her face in soft tendrils. “What exactly do you do then?”

He peered at her for a long moment, assessing, but finally shrugged. There was no reason not to tell her.

“I am a Daranthiki first-class mercenary,” he replied in a flat voice. “My ship required considerable repairs, and when I saw this vessel floating dead in space, I merely seized the opportunity.”

He was not exceptionally proud of it. His family would have disowned him for following the mercenary path if they had survived the famine that had laid waste to his homeworld during the Daranthaknar-Earth war. But a minor Daranthiki colony planet mattered little in the larger scheme of things. It had been enough to make him abandon his ranking position in the military so that he could go home to bury his entire line. It had not been a difficult decision considering that his family had heavily protested when he accepted the recruitment offer. Leaving had felt like shucking off an unwanted weight that he had long regretted. It was unfortunate that it was too late to recover what he lost with his family. He also could not divest himself of all the battle modifications that he had reluctantly consented to over the revolutions that he served. In retrospect, it was not surprising that Daisy confused him for a battle droid. Some days he felt like one as he went through the motions of living.

He still could not believe that he was the last. His familial line would die with him.

“O-oh, that means you can fight well, right?” she stammered, no longer looking at him.

Zil frowned with confusion. “Naturally. As you have noted, I am highly modified. Why?”

Her hand shook as she lifted it, her finger pointing toward the viewing screen at the front of the deck. Slowly he turned toward it, and a curse fell unbidden from his lips as a ship rose parallel to his own. Zil dove for the female, covering his small body with his at the exact moment the other ship fired. The entire transport ship rocked violently as small explosions illuminated the flight deck command center. He stared in shock as his ship lit up from the blasts, destruction sweeping its insides before culminating in complete darkness as its lock to the freighter lost power and disengaged, and the fighter began to drift from the freighter as the larger vessel drew nearer.

Shock turned to fury, and Zil’s jaw clenched as he watched the vessel lock onto the freighter in turn.

He jumped to his feet, furious. He wanted to murder whoever destroyed his ship. It was tempting to engage and let the odds fall however they might, but he was not feeling particularly suicidal at the moment. Better to evacuate and plot his vengeance later. With a growl, he stalked toward the door.

“Wait! You cannot just leave me here!” she shouted as she jogged after him.

Zil glanced back at her and grunted. “I believe we have already covered this. I am not obligated to do anything but look after my own hide. And as it stands, I am getting myself safely off this ship before it is boarded.”

Her footsteps halted as she gasped behind him. He did not feel particularly good about that, but it was all business. He could not afford to be held back by caring for a soft female. She would be a weight around his neck.

“Fuck! Wait, I can pay you!” she yelled as he reached the door. He paused.

“You have my attention for the next thirty seconds,” he grumbled and glanced back as she hurried over to his side.

“You mention getting paid, right? I don’t have access to my money at the moment, but I can pay you one million credits if you can get me to a safe place where I can legally access my account. It doesn’t even necessarily have to be destination. Any world that hosts a branch of the Intergalactic Credit Exchange where I can give a biosignature will be acceptable. I can arrange my own transport from there.”

He narrowed his eyes on her as he weighed his options. While leaving the ship alone would be easier, it would not hurt to be a million credits wealthier after losing everything he owned. He had credits in the bank but not enough to replace his ship and supplies. Helping her had the financial benefit and would satisfy the annoying whisper of his long-silent conscience that had unexpectedly deigned to make an appearance.

“Very well, female?—”

“Daisy McGillin. You may refer to me as Ms. McGillin, or Miss Daisy if you like.”

He scowled slightly. He did not have the time for this.

“Come, McGillin,” he impatiently growled, settling on her family name in accordance to Intergalactic standards as he grabbed her forearm so that she would not fall behind. “We cannot stay here. That is a Valthaan striker. They are favored among that species’ pirates and raiders.”

She unexpectedly shook her head stubbornly, throwing her weight back to her heels when he attempted to drag her away. “I can’t. Not without a TRS. That is suicide.”

“So is staying behind to be a lap pet for a Valthaan,” he snapped. “Trust me when I say that you would not enjoy that experience.”

Despite the lash of his words, he spun back to where the captain’s corpse was left on the floor and jogged over to it, dragging Daisy McGillin with him despite her sputtered, breathless protests. Bending, he yanked the clothing from the captain’s remains, handing each piece to her brusquely. She did not complain other than a few hissed expletives and a some well-deserved whimpering groans as she pulled on each peace, which in itself was impressive. Perhaps he had not given her enough credit.

She made a face as she zipped up her TRS but startled him when she lifted her arms up like a youngling, her fingers wiggling impatiently in the air. She frowned as he continued to stare in disbelief.

“Don’t look at me like that,” she snapped. “You move a lot faster than I can keep up, you are going to need to carry me.”

He shook his head, wanting to laugh at how quickly she disabused him of the idea that just maybe he had her wrong. That said, he could not disagree with her argument, however distasteful he found it.

With an annoyed grunt, Zil yanked her up into his arms and ran like the hunting beasts of the underworld were on his tail.

“Where are we going?”

The warmth of her breath on his ear and the low volume of her voice nearly made him stumble as desire shot through his systems with hot urgency. Thankfully, he had enough control that he was able to stabilizing himself quickly with barely a break in his stride.

“Escape pods,” he grunted in reply. “We are in Daranthiki space. Wherever your vessel was when it was attacked, it drifted into the edges of our territory just a few days ago. There are habitable planets nearby. No colonies, but most planets at minimum have an outpost relay for emergency situations.”

“A Daranthiki rescue, yippee,” she mumbled, and although it was a dig at his species, Zil could not help but agree.

He was not looking forward to it either.