Page 4 of Fool's Gold

The words hung heavy between us, her shallow breaths caressing my face. Up close, I could see the different flecks of color in her wide eyes. See the tiny freckles dusting her cheeks and the fullness of her lips parted ever so slightly.

An unfamiliar ache blossomed in my gut. This close, surrounded by her scent and warmth, it was maddening. I wanted...needed...

Releasing her with a snarl, I turned on my heel and stormed out, her whimper following me like the cry of a wounded animal.

Once back on the bridge, I slammed my fist into the side of the comm panel. "Arana!" I shouted, oddly agitated. "Get Servus on the line."

"At once," the ship's AI responded in its eternally calm tones. "Please hold."

I fought to regain my temper, pacing while awaiting a response to my signal.

"Sevrus, you blasted icicle-spined son of a harpy, answer your damned comm!"

The screen flickered to life, revealing the visage of my fellow Vinduthi hunter. "Is that any way to greet your closest friend and confidant, Kaelith? Tsk tsk."

I bared my teeth. "Cut the kanda piss. I need you to send me the complete schematics for Stanica Maglina."

One thick brow arched over Sevrus' crimson eyes. "Planning a little larceny, are we? What's the target this time?"

"Potentially a treasure trove," I growled. "I'm...pursuing a lead."

The bastard had the gall to laugh, his deep chuckle like shattering glass. "You? On a wild hartha chase? This I have to hear."

Grinding my fangs, I quickly laid out the details Gemma had provided about Landar's final score. By the time I finished, Sevrus was grinning like a decrepit knarloc.

"And you actually believe this little tale your new human pet is spinning? She has you chasing shadows and whispers, my friend."

"She's not my damned pet, she's a means to an end,” I snapped. “A small one that I'll discard once I've wrung her dry of every scrap of usefulness."

The words felt like acid on my tongue. When had I started thinking of the girl as mine? As anything more than a source to be exploited then eliminated?

Sevrus held up his hands in mock surrender. "Of course, of course. My mistake." His grin turned sly. "I'll send over the station schematics. Just don't get your hopes up too high over this treasure. You know how unreliable human females can be with that incessant prattling of theirs."

"I'll be the judge of that." I cut the transmission with a vicious stab of my claw against the console. Exhaling a long breath, I pulled up the newly transmitted schematics, studying every nook and cranny of the massive orbital station.

Just what insane gambit did my little human have up her sleeve? And why in the seven hells did that thought fill me with eager anticipation rather than dread?

GEMMA

I explored the small cabin, but there wasn't much of interest. Just a basic bunk, a small dresser, and a utilitarian refresher unit. The walls were bare metal, giving the space a cold, impersonal feel.

As I ran my fingers along the dresser's surface, I noticed scratches and dents marring the material. This wasn't guest quarters, but more like a...cell. Realization dawned on me. Kaelith had brought me here as a prisoner, not a guest.

The door swished open, and the imposing Vinduthi filled the entrance, his massive frame blocking out the light from the corridor. His red eyes bored into me, pinning me with his fierce gaze. Kaelith's nostrils flared as if scenting the air, and I couldn't help but shudder at the predatory way he regarded me.

"Follow," he commanded in a deep rumble, turning on his heel.

I hesitated for a moment, my heart pounding, but something in his tone warned against disobedience. I trailed after him, my footsteps echoing hollowly in the narrow hallway.

He led me into what appeared to be a combination galley, mess area and general storage room. The space was cramped, with a small counter, a narrow table, and a few basic appliances lining the walls. Despite its utilitarian appearance, everything looked meticulously maintained and organized.

"Sit," Kaelith gestured toward the table, his tone clipped.

I slid onto the bench, my hands clasped tightly in my lap to hide their trembling. He moved with an effortless grace, rummaging through a cabinet before producing a few ration bars.

"I have no fresh provisions," he said, his deep voice laced with an edge of...regret? "These will have to suffice."

He placed the bars on the table in front of me, and I stared at them, bewildered. Why was he being considerate? I was his captive, wasn't I?