His dark eyebrows shot up, his expression blanking for an instant.
Oooooh boy. Too much? Crap, why had I said anything at all?
He started toward me again. I cringed back, every muscle drawing tight. With my hands clenched into fists at my sides, I bit down hard and forced myself to glare back up at him. If this was the end, then I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of watching me cry or beg for my life.
His lip curled back, revealing slightly pointed incisors as a deep, thunderous growl rumbled from his chest.
Oh, sweet mother of god. This was it. He’d kill me with one hit. Or break my neck. Or eat me.
“Rout bought you for the Renegade Run? On purpose?” The way he asked made that sound like an insult.
I swallowed hard and took a small step away from him. “A-Apparently,” I wheezed through my terror.
I wasn’t about to tell him the reason was probably an extreme misunderstanding about my, er, running history on Earth. Somehow, I doubted that skillset was going to get me very far when it came to flying alien spaceships. Or killing people.
He leaned down, as though trying to get a better look at me. From this close, I could make out a faint pattern blemishing his odd, bluish gray skin along his forehead, cheekbones, and jaw. The blurred dark markings reminded me of a snow leopard’s blotchy, ringed spots. Strange … but also kind of beautiful. It might have been the strangest thing about him.
Well, except for the fact that he was an absolute giant. Good grief, he must have been over seven feet.
“You gotta lot of nerve for someone I could snap in half like a twig,” he grumbled dangerously.
I hesitated.
Hmm. If he was supposed to be some primal, big bad monster, then why was he going to the trouble of threatening me? Why not just crush me like a bug and be done with it?
Unless …
“A-And you’ve got bad breath for someone who’s supposed to be from a more advanced species,” I fired back, struggling to keep my voice steady.
Okay, so he didn’t really have bad breath. A total bluff on my part. In fact, he sort of smelled weirdly … good. It was an earthy, heavy scent. It took me straight back home, plunging me into memories of standing out under the trees after a heavy storm. I could still taste that primal energy in the air, hear the distant rumbles of thunder, and smell the fresh rain and wind.
Crap—get a grip, Brinna. Stop smelling him like a weirdo and focus.
One corner of his thin mouth twisted up into a roguish smirk.
My heart did a ridiculous skipping, stalling thing that left me breathless for a second.
Beneath all that alien strangeness, there was something undeniably appealing about his strong, chiseled jawline, sharp features, and piercing stare. Wait, why was I even noticing this stuff? He was acting like an elementary schoolyard bully, talking down to me like he had some big point to prove. What was with that smug look, anyway? And why did it make my stomach queasy?
I’d broken a few noses in second grade in situations a lot like this. Granted, those kids hadn’t been big enough to palm my head like a basketball. But still, the basic principle was the same, right?
“You have any idea what we’re about to get dragged into?” he asked, tilting his head to the side so that some of his lengthy, dark hair brushed over his cheek and the side of his neck. It was an odd mix of shiny platinum silver and jet black, like someone who’d had highlights painted in with liquid mercury.
I opened my mouth to make another snappy reply, but the metal floor beneath us shuddered. I staggered, wobbling and tripping forward—right against his chest. Oops.
Without thinking, I put my hands on him to push away. His body was … firm and unbelievably warm even through his suit. Almost like he was radiating an unnatural amount of body heat.
I glanced up. Our gazes locked.
Awkward.
My stomach dropped and I blushed, jerking away from him.
Before I could apologize or try to explain myself, the far wall gave a metallic groan and suddenly began to open. It lowered all the way to the ground like a ramp leading out into a small hangar. Parked in the middle, under the glow of lighting strips that ran the length of the low ceiling, was a small aircraft.
Or … maybe it was supposed to be. Honestly, it didn’t look anything at all like the ones I’d seen in the video. It was bulky, with short wings, big, bulbous engines on the back, and a snubbed-off nose. Not something you’d expect to be built for speed.
Portions of the craft were rusted and scratched, and there were huge dents and dings down the sides. The three stubby legs of the landing gear looked like they might buckle at any moment and were gripped firmly in place by a trio of massive clamps that anchored it to the floor of the hangar.
My jaw dropped. Next to me, the alien guy let out a barking sound somewhere between a cough, a laugh, and a groan of dismay.
My sentiments exactly.
This was our high-tech, super-fast, alien racing ship? It was a hunk of total garbage!
8
TAKING OUT THE TRASH
“Of course.” The alien guy groaned as he stormed down the ramp toward the small ship. “That slimy, rump-sniffing, gutter-toad. Not enough just to kill me! Gotta humiliate me while he’s at it!”
I glanced around at the barren metal room. Well, no point in staying here, right?
Jogging after him, I called out, “Hey! Are you talking about that alien thing that bought us? Rout-something?”
He gave a snort and a shrug. I took that as a yes.
“And
