Hotbloods 6: Allies

Hotbloods 6: Allies

Bella Forrest





Chapter One





I wanted to snatch the compass and run, but the pawnbroker was watching me. I figured I could smash the glass and take it. Although, what if alarms started ringing and metal bars came down around me? I could probably reach the door, but what then? My attempt at casually sauntering past the display case had failed miserably, and now we were dealing with unwanted attention. I felt guiltier than I would’ve if I’d actually stolen the compass.

I pushed the information button once again, just to be sure I hadn’t misheard: Species locator. Insert blood sample to map nearby targets. Ideal for hunting enthusiasts.

The first time I’d pushed it, I’d done it out of sheer boredom, but now my interest was piqued. I just wished I could’ve been a bit subtler about it; I might as well have been pressing my nose to the glass, from the way the pawnbroker was looking at me. There was a warning in her eyes, communicating to me that stealing the compass would be a very stupid idea. If only we had some money…

To be honest, I didn’t feel like getting on her bad side. She was pretty scary looking, with dark green, snake-like hair that moved independently of her head, an eye blinking at the end of each rippling tendril. She reminded me of Medusa, though I hoped she didn’t have the same freezing powers. I’d never get out of here with the compass if she could do what Stone could with his third eye.

The memory of that three-eyed bastard made my heart ache. He’d stolen Lauren away, and though we’d been chasing after her for a month, the trail had gone cold. It hurt to think about her, but getting her back was pretty much all I could think about. That, and Yorrek’s notebook, which potentially contained the secret to solving the immortality elixir. If someone got their hands on it, they could conquer the universe without contest. So, not the usual waking nightmares in an average girl’s life. Now, I was standing in front of the one thing that might refresh our fading hope.

Knowing I had to direct some of the attention away from me, I wandered around the shop again, casting a casual eye over the pawnbroker’s wares. They were mostly junk, with a few gaudy jewels and a curious piece of technology or two, but the only thing I was interested in was the compass. I was kidding no one—the pawnbroker knew what I was after. She was looking at me over Navan’s shoulder, with all her eyes, while he tried to haggle over a pile of our weapons. He was standing at the counter, desperately bartering for a loan.

After being hijacked in the middle of open space by another gang of pirates, we only had a few credits, limited weapons, and zero dignity left. Unfortunately, we needed to buy fuel and replacement parts for our ship… things that really required more than a handful of credits. Plus, the pirates—great, gangly creatures with scarred tattoos crisscrossing their bodies, and claws the size of my forearm—had gone to town on our vessel, and the whole engine spluttered and wheezed every time we flew. Bashrik and Ronad were back at the ship trying to patch it up as best they could with what we did have, along with Angie and Mort, who were mostly there for moral support.

“Sixty credits for the lot, or you can clear out of here with nothing!” the pawnbroker snarled.

“Sixty credits? That’s daylight robbery!”

“Take it or leave it.”

Navan lifted one of the guns, brandishing it in the pawnbroker’s face. “This blaster is worth at least fifty by itself!”

“Put the barrel of that in my face again and I’ll show you what it’s worth!”

My stomach rumbled, reminding me that we needed to buy food, too. About two days ago, we’d run out of the dried-up food that Navan had brought from Brisha, and the coldbloods were almost out of vials. It really wasn’t looking good for us. If we couldn’t find enough money to get off this planet, we’d be forced to stay until we’d earned enough to leave. That was simply time we didn’t have.

I heard Navan growl as I walked down another aisle. “This is worth a hell of a lot more than sixty credits! A hundred credits and we’ll call it even,” he said firmly.

“Sixty credits and I don’t call the authorities,” the pawnbroker threatened. “Haggling is for the darkstar market. If you aren’t happy with what I’m offering, put your wares up for auction there. See what those criminals want to give you for this heap of garbage.”

“Maybe I will.”

“My shop is a reputable business, not a seedy auction site. You won’t get a better price, and you know it, or you wouldn’t still be standing here,” she countered, her tendrils bristling.

I wandered down another aisle, my eyes still drawn to the glass display case, despite the array of weird and wonderful objects that the pawnbroker had on offer. I had no idea what most of it was for, but there were some unmistakable guns and a couple of impressive-looking blades tucked away to the side.

Coming full circle to the compass, I touched the glass case, wanting to check how flimsy the door was. A lock rattled.

“Keep your grimy hands off the merchandise!” the pawnbroker snapped, mid-conversation with Navan.

I jumped back, startled. “Sorry, I was just admiring it.”

“Yeah, well, don’t moon over things you can’t afford!” she growled. “Come over here and stand with your keeper, where I can see you. I’ve had enough of you creeping around my shop. There’s nothing in these cabinets for you!”

Feeling my cheeks burn, I shuffled over to where Navan was standing, keeping my head down so the pawnbroker wouldn’t see my sour expression. Anger burned in my chest at being referred to as a lowly thing that needed a “keeper.” It seemed the planet of Pulsyde was no better than Vysanthe. Humans were inferior beings wherever we went, even where nobody knew what we were.

“Sixty credits is all I can offer you,” she repeated, ignoring me entirely now that I was under the close guard of her tendrils.

“A hundred credits is a reasonable amount. It’s what we estimated judging by the current universal exchange rate on goods,” I challenged, having listened to Mort go on and on about it, after the pirates had robbed us. “You’re trying to cheat us, and it won’t work.”

The pawnbroker’s hair hissed at me, miniature jaws snapping. “Sixty is my final offer. If this is all you have to give, you can only expect a low offer.”

“Nice to see your sort are amoral wherever you go,” I muttered.

“Say another word and it’ll go down to forty credits,” the pawnbroker warned, her countless eyes staring me down.

Navan and I shared a look, knowing we really didn’t have the grounds to press her, in case she made good on her threat to lower the offer further. Sixty credits was better than no credits, which was what we’d have soon enough. Even so, it wouldn’t buy us much in this place. Pulsyde was a port-planet, and they knew how to work their clientele. Prices were constantly fluctuating, people were always in need of something, and the sellers could get just about anything.

“Fine, we’ll take the sixty credits,” Navan conceded with a heavy sigh.

We really were at rock bottom, with no sign of our luck turning around anytime soon. As well as having a broken ship and no money to our name, we were no closer to stopping Yorrek’s notebook from getting into the wrong hands. Then, there was the painful, perpetual fact that Lauren was gone… potentially sold as a slave, or dead.

Tears pricked my eyes. It was all I could do to hold myself together while Navan completed the exchange. I hated feeling so helpless.