”No.”
“Thank you for using lawbot services. Please consider us again for any and all of your future legal needs.”
It rolls back into a compartment, leaving us alone in a room that is all too sterile.
The hallway leading from it isn’t much better.
“You own me now.” Ferrok says, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “Do you want me to call you mistress?”
“Maybe…” I’ve never considered the idea before, but I don’t hate it. “But I don’t own you. That’s just paperwork and bullshit to keep you alive. Because I like you alive.”
“I like me alive too.”
“Is it done?” Mooralan asks, waiting for us in the corridor.
“Yep. It’s done. Hopefully, it gets there in time,” I say.
“Should we take a vacation until the paperwork’s been logged?” Mooralan laces his fingers in Ferrok’s.
“I’d like that,” he says, “Where would we go?”
“Someplace warm?” I’m thinking beach and bikini.
“Hell’s pretty warm.”
I freeze at the words. I know that voice.
When I turn to look at the Trulavian, I flinch.
“I told you I hoped we wouldn’t meet again… I am sorry that was not an option in the end.”
CHAPTER 6
Mooralan tries to step in front of both of us, but the woman who had been with the Trulavian before jumps onto his back, holding a needle to his throat.
“Only one of you needs to die right now. There’s no reason to make that number any higher.”
“He can’t be king.” I tell him. “He doesn’t pose any threat.”
“No, I’m sure he wouldn’t, but that doesn’t really matter. He’s on the list. He’s got to go.”
“He shouldn’tbeon the list. It’s just caught up in paperwork. I swear.” I hold up the receipts.
“You can swear all you want. That doesn’t mean I can believe you.” He looks at Ferrok. “Sorry. I bring back your head or I lose mine.”
“I’m not moving,” I tell him.
Ferrok looks at Mooralan. “You have eight hands. Use them. Keep her safe.”
Mooralan grabs me and I try to shake him loose.
“Don’t. You belong to me. You don’t get to just let him kill you.”
Ferrok tries to smile. “I’ve belonged to you for a very long time. But you belong to me too, and if the choice is one, or all of us, then it has to be one.”
With a sigh so heavy it makes me flinch, the Trulavian says, “I don’t need to deal with this.
He raises his hand, and a gun forms in it, like it’s grown out of the blade-like appendage.
