Total pages in book: 119
Estimated words: 110600 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 553(@200wpm)___ 442(@250wpm)___ 369(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 110600 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 553(@200wpm)___ 442(@250wpm)___ 369(@300wpm)
She tilts her head at me, taking another sip of her frothy beer. “I was wondering when you were going to show up.”
Her words surprise me. I look around.
“Yes, you. You’re not as stealthy as you think.” The blue female mesakkah rolls her eyes. “Hard for a praxiian to hide out in these parts. You don’t exactly blend.”
It is true. While most races are taller than the dainty humans, praxiians are built differently. We have large, hulking shoulders, strong barrel bodies, and long tails. More than that, my gray fur sets me apart from the blue-skinned mesakkah that are so common in these parts. It sets me apart, as does the fact that my clothes are tight and ill-fitting, as if made for someone else.
Probably because they were. An escaped fugitive such as myself is low on options, and clothing is not a particularly relevant need, especially on a farm planet in the outer reaches such as Risda III.
“What gave me away?” I ask, because I need to know for the future. Even though I’m no longer a gladiator, I still take away what I can from my training. I discover what caused my defeat and I correct it.
The bounty hunter shrugs. She taps a long finger on her glass. “Praxiians have a certain smell. When I smell that everywhere I go, it’s not hard to put things together.”
“There are plenty of praxiians here,” I bluff.
“There are five on the entire planet, and three of them are homesteaders. Given that it’s not raining, I imagine they’re at home taking care of their crops. Number four is currently in jail. It’s not hard to figure out who number five is.” She gives me a dismissive look. “So what do you want from me?”
I hesitate, then decide I have to know, regardless. “I want to know what job the little human female hired you for.”
“Saw that, did you?” When I nod, she shrugs and drains her beer, then pushes the empty glass in my direction. I order her another and then wait, expectant. It’s not until she finishes her second drink that she finally looks over at me again. “Why should I tell you?”
I fight back the hiss growing in my throat. I can’t snarl at this female—I need her help. My tail twitches angrily, even though I keep my expression calm. “I am looking after her.”
“Are you, now.”
She doesn’t believe me. I drum my claws on the bar. “I am…trying to instigate a courtship with the female. So far she has ignored me.”
“A praxiian courtship? I can only imagine the horrors.” She grimaces, the tip of her bony, plated nose wrinkling just a bit. “Does it involve batting a ball of yarn in her direction?”
I can feel my tail fluffing in anger, and I clench my jaw. “Very funny. I am interested in the little human but I do not know how to approach her. Until she realizes I am courting her, I am doing my best to look after her from a distance. I do not know if you are aware, but she is very innocent.”
The mesakkah woman finally turns to give me a direct look. “You say innocent, I say she doesn’t have common sense. She won’t last a year out here.”
I bite back another angry snarl. “Kim is very clever. She is doing very well on her farm. You are being unfair to her.”
“No, I’m just practical. Look. You said you were a gladiator?” The bounty hunter cocks her head at me. “You of all people know how long people like her last without a protector.”
“I would be her protector,” I say stiffly. “I have let her know my intentions. Now I must wait for her to acknowledge them.”
“Well, she must not like your intentions, because she’s asked me to find her a husband.”
I sputter. “She what?”
“Hired a bounty hunter to kidnap her a husband,” the woman says coolly. “You want to talk about her common sense again?”
I consider this. If what she says is true, Kim is putting herself in danger. Hiring a bounty hunter to kidnap a husband for a human? A human female that is already in danger every day thanks to the cruel realities of the outer reaches? If she’s not enslaved again within a year, someone will kill her for her homestead. I have heard a great many detailed stories about how the females here are treated. I know that the mesakkah lord in charge of this planet thinks he is doing a favor to these females by awarding them farms and the equipment to run them, but in my eyes, he is simply setting them up as targets.
And they are being picked off by unscrupulous sorts. Risda III is a good place to hide out, but that also means it harbors a fair amount of galactic scum behind its pastoral views. This woman speaks the truth—Kim has a good heart, but she is still far too trusting. She will place her trust in the wrong person—such as a bounty hunter—and end up being robbed of her purse.