Page 52 of Star Bringer
I’ve never been one for hand holding, but it feels sort of nice to walk with her like this. Her hand fits really well in mine, and her skin is soft and warm. “Where are we going, exactly?” she asks.
“Here.” I stop in front of a tavern.
“The Drunken Drokaray,” she reads from the sign hanging above the door. “I love drokarays!”
“You do? Don’t they eat people?” I’m no wildlife expert, but if I remember correctly, they’re a sort of carnivorous four-legged work animal indigenous to Askkandia.
“Only bad people.” She smiles at some memory, but then the smile fades. “When I was little, I wanted one for a pet. My dad was always the type to show rather than tell, so instead of trying to dissuade me, he took me to a farm and introduced me to a baby drokaray. It nearly bit my nose off.”
“Cute.”
She rolls her eyes at my sarcasm. “After that, we used to make up swear words with drokarays in them. And whenever I was being bad, my dad would remind me that a drokaray would bite me.”
Now she looks sad. I don’t like it—I’d rather have her pissed off at me. “Look,” I tell her. “It’s probably best you keep your mouth shut in here, okay?”
“Why?” She slips her hand out of mine. “Do you think I’m going to ask for help?”
Actually, that hadn’t even occurred to me, but now that she mentions it, I consider gagging her.
She must figure out what I’m thinking, because I can suddenly feel her glare, even if I can’t actually see it, courtesy of the hood.
“Don’t even think about it, you drokaray dropping,” she snaps, but there’s no real bite in it. “And yes, I’ll keep my mouth shut. Now, can we get on with this? I’d kill for a sandwich right now.”
I try not to smile as I pull her in. But then it’s easy enough to wipe it off, considering what we’re walking into.
Chapter 19
Ian
It’s dark in the bar after the bright sunlight, and it takes a moment for my eyes to adjust. Even in the afternoon, the bar is busy and there’s the beat of some music blasting out. I glance around to see if I can spot anyone I recognize, but there’s no one—which could be a good thing or a bad one, depending on the person.
I take Kali’s elbow to lead her in, and all eyes turn to us.
The patrons are mostly locals, from their appearances and dress, but I spot a group of wealthy-looking Permunians drinking at a table—probably merchants negotiating a deal for the Stellenium they mine for the Corporation. Their yellow eyes follow us as we pass.
“They’re all staring,” Kali whispers.
“I doubt they get many nuns in here.”
“I’m not a nun—and neither is Rain. No one is a nun!” She sounds exasperated. “And what is this music? I’ve never heard anything like it.”
“You need to go slumming more often. And what happened to keeping your mouth shut?”
“Stop saying things that make me open it.” But she shuts up; I’ll give her that.
I rest my free hand on my pistol and ignore the looks. At that moment, a young woman in a tight dress that hugs her very abundant curves enters from the door at the back. She sees me straightaway, and a smile flashes across her face as she bounds over.
It takes me a second to recognize her as the person Max had a thing with the last time we were here. Well, one of the people. He likes a lot of variety. And she’s also the daughter of the owner of this not-so-fine establishment. Because Max really is a big enough cliché that he actually tapped a barmaid. I just manage to get her name before she reaches us.
“Ian, where have you been?” Ella asks warmly. Probably more warmly than I deserve, considering how things ended with the two of them. “We’ve missed you.”
I shrug that off—she probably says it to everyone. “Around.”
“Max not with you?” She looks disappointed.
“Not this time.”
“And who’s this?” She glances at Kali, her expression curious.
