Free 3013: Targeted by Susan Hayes Page A

who had put them all in jeopardy. Hawke wanted to help her, or at least offer her his support, but she wanted nothing to do with him.
    Being cut out of her life was killing him.
    His circuit took him across the main concourse, the high arc of the domed ceiling curving high overhead. The flags and banners denoting the Alliance ships and units stationed on X2 hung in the open air, the station so still and quiet they barely stirred. The brightest light source was the crimson and black sign marking the entrance to the Black Hole, the red letters bathing the area around the door in an eerie glow.
    As Hawke reached the halfway mark, the sound of music grew louder, spilling out of the bar’s door as it opened. He slowed down to watch as several late night revelers staggered into sight. Two of them were helping to support a third man, and none of them were within a light year of sobriety. When one of them straightened to his full height, Brandt realized the trio wasn’t human, they were D’Aire. What was strange was D’Aire were immune to the effects of alcohol…so what had them so messed up?
    The middle one stumbled and groaned loud enough Hawke could hear him halfway across the concourse. They were going to need some assistance to make it back to their ship. He started jogging toward them, intending to offer his help, when more figures appeared in the doorway. This group were definitely human, but something about the way they moved had Hawke’s instincts screaming something bad was about to happen.
    He broke into a run, but he’d only taken two steps before it all went nova.
    The five humans were on the D’Aire before they left the bar, and Hawke knew that meant he was looking at a group of dead men. Fighting in the sanctuary was strictly forbidden, and with everyone wound so tight after the last attack, there would be no leniency. He heard the sound of fabric tearing as one of the D’Aire unfurled his wings and took to the air, his intoxicated companion held tight in his arms.
    “Get help!” Hawke bellowed. The alien overhead glanced down, and despite the distance between them, Hawke could see the iridescent blue gleam of the D’Aire’s eyes as he met his gaze, then gave an affirmative nod before soaring higher. The third D’Aire was doing an impressive job of holding off his attackers. Blood soaked through his shirt at the shoulder, but despite his injury he was still keeping the men at bay using nothing but his fists and his wits. The species humans had nicknamed Angels were an ancient and powerful race, and while they preferred to live in peace, they were more than capable of defending themselves when it was necessary. The humans who had gone after them while still in the sanctuary had to be suicidal.
    Hawke was only a few strides away from the brawl when two more figures came tearing through the doors of the bar, their glowing red eyes and vicious howls broadcasting their identity. The Krytos had joined the fight. Watching them, it was easy to understand how their early visits to Earth had sparked the werewolf legends. To the humans who had yet to even contemplate life on other worlds, the Krytos would have been terrifying monsters. For the second time in as many days, Hawke found himself up close with a beast in full battle form, and he couldn’t help but be thankful this time, their fury was directed at someone else.
    Claws slashed through cloth and flesh, and soon there were agonized screams blending with the howls and snarls. Hawke threw himself into the middle of the fray with a battle cry one part reflex and two parts joy at finally having an outlet for all his pent up frustration. He knew the Krytos didn’t need his help, but the D’Aire was injured, so Hawke made his way to him, blocking blows and throwing punches the whole way. While he was deflecting one strike, one of the other attackers landed a punch to the side of his face, and for several seconds there were more stars dancing in Hawke’s vision