woman.
Blast it all!
Maybe he couldn’t handle her.
Oh, please let her kiss him. It wasn’t in him to take an unwilling woman but a single sign, that’s all his body needed.
Suddenly, she began to chuckle as she pushed herself up from the floor. He wasn’t expecting the sound, and it took him off guard. Dev wasn’t sure if he should be offended, so he held perfectly still. Her laughter grew. When he could take it no longer, he asked, “What?”
“I was just thinking,” she said, calming herself, “no one would ever mistake a great beast of a man like you for a little semikin.”
Dev didn’t share in her humor. He saw the irony, but couldn’t force himself to smile. At his lack of participation, she sobered. He was sorry to see the merriment fade from her eyes but did nothing to bring it back.
Already he calculated a way to overtake the vessel. Seeing the captain, he could well deduce he was on Racing Banana . The ship was small. He could man it solo until he was rescued. Now, all he would have to do is determine if the layout matched what he’d studied in the VR, subdue the crew, and fly himself to a safe port if The Conqueror wasn’t close enough to answer his distress call. It should be simple enough.
“I see we are beyond pretending my being brought here was an accident,” he stated. Her lack of answer was answer aplenty. “I thought as much. What’s the plan? Ransom? Trade? Torture for information?” He arched a brow. “Slavery?”
“All valid reasons to have someone taken,” she agreed. “But I didn’t order you—”
The door slid open behind her, drawing their attention around to the front of the cargo hold.
Dev’s eyes narrowed, and he tensed. An Angelion? His hands balled instantly into fists. His father’s people were at war with the treacherous race.
“Gil, do—” Violette began.
Gil stopped, his wings spreading slightly in shock as he stared at Dev. He held an injector in his hand. It was filled with yellow liquid. This was the man who’d been trying to keep him sedated.
“What did you do?” Gil yelled at Violette. “Quick, get down!”
The injector dropped from Gil’s hand as he reached for his waist to grab his gun. Without waiting to assess the full situation, he lifted the weapon and fired. Violette jolted in surprise. Dev didn’t hesitate. He grabbed her by the arm and dove out of the way, taking her with him behind a large crate. She struggled against his hold, but he pressed her firmly to the ground to keep her safe.
“Captain?” Gil yelled. Violette moaned an answer.
Dev jumped up to face Gil. He grabbed a high crate and leaped, pulling his weight up to get a better vantage point. As he landed, he saw Gil hovering above the ground. The Angelion swung his arm up. Dev lunged at his target. He slammed into the flying brute, drawing an arm around his neck.
“Stop,” Violette yelled below them. Dev wasn’t sure which one of them she meant to command.
Gil fired off a shot. It went wild in their struggle, the blast ricocheting off a metal container. Dev swore, thinking of the woman below them. The Angelion was careless. He squeezed the trigger a couple more times. Violette’s short cry sounded more annoyed than hurt.
“I said stop! That’s an order,” she yelled. The men didn’t listen. Dev couldn’t back down. Gil wouldn’t. The war between the Angelion and Bevlon had been raging for a millennium, possibly longer. In truth, neither side could remember how or when it started. Though both races were small in number because of it, none of them stopped the fighting. Dev didn’t feel the hatred like his father’s people did. The way he saw it, his father’s kind didn’t care much for him because of his human mother. They used to call him a halfling, a changeling, tainted, half-breed, rotted, spawn… They didn’t want to accept him and, well, in return, he wouldn’t care about their stupid blood feuds. Evidently Gil didn’t get that
Learning to Kill: Stories