Page 25 of Needed in the Night (The Fortusian Mates, #2)

MIKAS

I followed Isla into the narrow corridor. The hidden door slid soundlessly closed and sealed behind us.

My shoulders nearly brushed the walls and the top of my head was only a few centimeters shy of the ceiling. Still, wherever Isla went, I would go—whether it be a secret escape from an Engareni perfume shop or a planet far from here.

My sharp ears caught a low hum from the room we had just left. I frowned and tilted my head to listen.

“The room’s air and surfaces are purified between guests,” Isla explained. “It’s a necessary step to ensure each customer gets exactly the scent they want.”

“And it is quite handy for removing traces of anyone who has passed through,” I observed. “An ideal setup.”

Despite the danger of our situation, she smiled. “Yes, it is.”

I took advantage of our closeness and ran my nose over her hair. To think I might be able to do so whenever I wanted and no longer had to hide either my feelings or desires…what bliss.

I wanted to know what she planned for us to do, but her most personal scents and tastes remained on my fingers and tongue, a decadent reminder of the intimacy we had just shared—and that our time had been interrupted.

I also could not forget that her torn underwear was in my pocket, or that beneath her dress her sweet, bare pussy dripped for me.

“Isla,” I ground out, pressing my hand to the wall beside her head. The cold metal helped me focus on our need to get away instead of my need for her. “Where will we go now?”

“We have to choose.” Her expression turned grim. “I know I asked if you had anything you can’t leave behind, but it’s not fair for me to decide for you.”

“You are not deciding for me.” I cupped her face with my hand. “All my instincts tell me we cannot go back and we must avoid Nubo and his people. To do that, we must leave Onat’ras at least. To be safe, we should leave Fortusia. I do not believe Nubo’s reach extends beyond this planet.”

She rested her forehead on my chest. “I know,” she said, her voice muffled by my shirt. “I knew it couldn’t last. I wanted to believe I could live in this beautiful city, on this beautiful world, but in my heart I knew this would be a stop, not a destination.”

My hearts ached once again. I had already accepted Isla as my home, but she could not be expected to feel the same.

Certainly not until—or unless —she truly accepted me as her mate, and perhaps not even then.

Human physiology was not the same as Fortusian.

We might share much of our DNA, but her body did not respond to mine the way mine did to hers.

More than anything, I wanted to find a way to give her the same peace and contentment her presence gave me.

I knelt in front of her again, this time for a very different reason. She let out a little sound of surprise, tinged with dismay.

“I do not wish to cause you pain or regret,” I said, and kissed her hand. “I am sorry I have upended the life you built here.”

Isla startled me by kneeling too. The corridor was barely wide enough to accommodate us, so I sat back on my heels and pulled her onto my lap once more, her knees astride my thighs.

“You don’t need to apologize.” She cupped my face with both of her hands and stared directly into my eyes. “I chose to accept you and your feelings for me knowing full well that meant we had to get as far from Nubo as we could. It wasn’t something I said in the heat of the moment.”

“But if you like your life here—” I began.

She quieted me by resting her index finger on my lips.

“Do you think I’d trade how I feel about you—how I feel with you—for a gig as a singer in a bar?” she asked. “Because I wouldn’t. I can feel sad about having to leave Fortusia and be happy to be your…mate. I’m working on that last part,” she added with a wry smile. “Give me time.”

“You may have all the time you need.” I kissed her forehead. “There is no rush.” I glanced at the doorway we had come through, then down the long corridor to where it turned and continued out of sight. “Where shall we go, Isla?”

She kissed my jaw, making my chest rumble. “If we want to leave Onat’ras, we need to go now,” she said. “If we can make it to the Delta spaceport, Ycari has a contact there who can get us on an offworld transport using pseudonyms.”

“Then we will get to the spaceport.” I rose and lifted her to her feet.

“This hallway leads to a hidden exit on the side of a shop much closer to the market’s exit.” She slipped her hand into mine and tugged. “This way. We’ll blend into the crowd and head for the port.”

Knife at the ready, I followed, all my senses alert to any hint of danger. The silence and Isla’s trust in Madame Ycari and her contact at the port did little to diminish my tension or my rage at the threat Nubo posed to not only our newfound happiness and Isla’s safety.

But as we made our way quietly down the corridor, I recalled Isla’s skill with her dagger and the fearless way she looked at the Hardanian. That did not banish my anger or trepidation, but my boots returned to solid ground.

I would do whatever I must to ensure we made it safely away. Fighting was what I did—what I had always done. What better cause could I fight for than Isla and our future together?

Two turns and about twenty-five meters later, we reached the end of the tunnel and another sealed door. But when it came into sight, Isla’s steps faltered.

“That orange light above the door is a warning,” she said in answer to my unspoken question. “It means our way out of the market isn’t clear. Ycari or someone she knows must have gotten word that Nubo’s people are searching the whole area, not just the perfume shop and its immediate surroundings.”

My spines bristled and tingled anew. “Nubo may be well-connected, but overt violence in the market itself, in front of many witnesses and law enforcement, seems unlikely,” I said.

“I feel we will be in the most danger once we leave the market area. Many of the streets between here and the Delta Port will be quiet this time of night.”

She leaned against the wall and thought.

“We could go through the market and head straight for the main boulevard where most of the tourists are. It will be packed with people. We could stick to the crowded areas and head for the Alpha Megaport instead to book passage offworld on a commercial transport. I doubt even Nubo can prevent us from finding a cabin on a cruiser bound for who-knows-where.” She looked up at me, a smile tugging at her lips.

“Assuming, of course, you want to share a cabin with me…”

I scooped her up with one arm so I could bury my face against the side of her neck, where her scent was most powerful. “I would share a tent with you on a barren moon, my mate,” I murmured, my lips against her skin. “And it would be heaven as long as you were in my arms. ”

“Well.” She drew back to eye me, her smile so gentle that I had to lean against the wall to steady myself. “That is quite the statement of devotion. I’ll have to do my best to make sure you don’t regret making that pledge.”

“I could never regret it.” I kissed her temple and put her back on her feet. “To the port, then, Isla. And on to wherever the first ship we find with an available cabin may take us.” A thought occurred to me. “Have you told Brae our plan?”

“Yes. He’s keeping watch from above.”

Quickly, she braided her long hair, perhaps anticipating the need to fight.

As she did so, I reluctantly returned my knife to the sheath in my right boot, since I could not carry it openly in the market.

I could draw it quickly again, but milliseconds might mean the difference between life and death.

From the market to the Alpha Megaport was a little more than a kilometer if we kept to the crowded streets. The distance had never seemed so close and yet so far.

She settled her bag in place and squared her shoulders. “Ready?”

“Almost.” I stole one last kiss. “Now I am ready.”

Smiling, she took a deep breath, ran two fingers down along the wall to the right of the door, tapped twice, and waited. I braced myself.

The door unsealed and slid aside, revealing an alcove and a wide alley between this shop and the next. The noise and chaos of the market, which I had not minded earlier, struck me almost like a physical blow after the quiet and stillness of both the sampling room and the corridor.

As the door closed and sealed behind us, I scanned the faces of shoppers passing through the alley, studying their body language with a soldier’s practiced eye.

No one seemed to pay us any particular notice other than a few casual glances.

The alcove was a perfect place for a couple to steal a few moments together out of the stream of foot traffic.

With the door now hidden, perhaps onlookers assumed we had stepped into the shadows for romantic reasons.

If only it were so. If only we were not running for our lives.

I affected a casual air and stayed close behind Isla as we joined the stream of shoppers and tourists.

Rather than attract attention by running or walking briskly, my mate strolled from shop to shop, looking over the goods on display as we made our way toward the exit closest to the street that would lead to the boulevard.

Meanwhile, even with my spines flat, I had never felt quite so conspicuous.

Despite her rainbow-colored hair, Isla blended in with the crowd.

At least I was not the tallest person in the market, as I might have been on some other world.

Most Fortusians were my height or even taller, and the market was packed.

But if Nubo and his people were scanning the crowd looking for us, I would be easier to spot than my diminutive mate.

I could do nothing for it though but keep watch for danger.

Just as the arch of the market’s exit came into view, Isla paused suddenly. Her hand found mine and squeezed.

“Hello,” said a small, very musical voice.

I peered over Isla’s shoulder and was startled to see the little Sirrah who had sung so beautifully outside the perfume shop standing in front of us. She had donned a long gossamer coat over her dress and carried a small pack on her back that looked about the size to accommodate her collection box.

“There is a merchant this way with good wines to sell,” the Sirrah said to Isla, her hands clasped in front of her. “The shop you like near the exit is no longer open.”

The back of my neck prickled in warning. I slid a glance toward the market’s exit and caught a glimpse of a hawk-like face in the shadows, waiting just outside the arch.

“Please show us to the wine merchant,” Isla said, raising her chin in outward defiance, even as her hand trembled in mine.

I growled low, the sound a rumble in my chest .

To our left, a pair of expressionless human men I recognized as Nubo’s employees were making their way through the crowd toward us. From the direction of the perfume shop, Kona approached, her gaze fixed on Isla and hands on her daggers.

I wanted to fight. I wanted to kill them all and get my mate to safety.

We could do neither in this market full of witnesses and innocent bystanders.

Rather than appearing casual, Kona and the others moved with a purpose, and I did not like the way they seemed to have a coordinated plan.

My rage and worry made my stomach churn.

We followed the Sirrah.

She moved with grace through the endless stream of shoppers, weaving her way past a Fortusian dagger artisan’s studio and a busy fruit and vegetable shop. My hearts pounded in my ears.

The third shop was indeed a wine merchant, but the sight of its signage and open doors did nothing to diminish my worry. How did we know who or what waited for us inside?

In my peripheral vision, the humans and Kona continued to close in on us. My grip tightened on Isla’s hand, and I prepared to bolt with her at the slightest indication of betrayal by our little guide—whose delicate neck I would wring if she had led us into a trap.

All I wanted was to board a cruiser and share a cabin with my Isla, where I could spend our days of travel worshiping her and then every day after that doing the same.

My hearts were set on this. My wounded soul had found its home and peace with my true mate.

I would let nothing harm her as long as I drew breath.

This shop might be a dead end, quite literally. But Isla showed no sign of trepidation. She trusted the Sirrah—her scent and her body language told me so. And because she trusted, so must I.

As we approached the shop’s doors, I caught a scent wafting through the doorway that nearly made me stop in my tracks in surprise and confusion. I knew that scent and who it belonged to.

What he was doing in the market and why the Sirrah had brought us here I did not know, but we were about to find out.