“She…she can finally get away from her,” Dravka said, the words falling from his lips even as his chest felt like it was being torn to shreds. “She can…she can have everything she wants now.”
He didn’t know who Gabriel Larchmont was but the human male could sure as hell give Valerie more than Dravka ever could.
Tavak’s lips pressed together firmly, his pupils flickering back and forth between Dravka’s. Dravka couldn’t tell what the other male was thinking. Frankly, he didn’t care. All that mattered was Valerie. All that mattered to him was her future, ahappyone…and she would never find it here. She would never find it with Dravka.
Dravka reminded Tavak, “You said to cut her loose.”
“Pax, but…” Tavak trailed off, his tongue darting out to wet his slim lips.
“Vauk,” Dravka rasped, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment, his mind still whirling. He still smelled smoke, all around him. “I need a drink.”
He needed to get out of this room. He couldn’t stand to feel the stares of Tavak and Ravu on him. He couldn’t stand to feel their pity.
Dravka was already stumbling towards the door, dropping the Nu device on the threadbare rug with a gentle thud.
The door to the Cluster slammed shut behind him and he stalked back down the staircase, the brothel’s hallways and walls going past in an endless blur. Once he was back down to the main lobby level, he eyed the cart of glass decanters in the sitting area, filled with the golden, thick liquid he sought.
He sank down into the armchair, snagging a heavy bottle off the trolley cart. He didn’t bother to pour himself a glass of it. He hadn’t had alcohol in a long while but he took a healthy swallow of it now, letting the liquid burn down his throat.
It took a lot to get a Keriv’i male drunk.
Dravka intended to find out how much of Everton’s liquor it took to get him there.
Chapter Nine
“Dravka?” Valerie breathed, incredulous and wary as she eyed the slumped figure on the floor of the lobby.
His back was to the desk that Valerie greeted the clients at. An empty glass decanter of sweetened brandy was tipped over on the floor next to him.
“What in the world—what are you doing?” she asked, closing the door behind her.
She was exhausted and drained but content and pleased with the progress she’d made at the townhouse that day. She’d gotten in touch with an experienced and discreet trader, who knew a wealthy collector of Old Earth items on Genesis. She’d taken brief videos of the contents inside Eve’s townhouse and the collector had immediately responded with his interest.
If most of the items sold, she was looking at at least 250,000 credits for the lot, not to mention the credits from the sale of the townhouse, which would go for a steeper price.
Of course, Madame Allegria owed the Keriv’i in her ‘employ’ much, much more than 250,000 credits—each—but it was a small fortune that was their back-up plan at the very least. If anything went wrong, at least they would have access to it.
The rest of the day had been spent inventorying the contents and furniture, packing away any knick-knacks and personal items that Valerie didn’t think would sell—items that one day, she hoped she could send to Eve and Khiva. Tomorrow, she was planning on going back, to get in touch with a property agent to see about selling the townhouse.
She was running out of time. Her aunt would be back in a couple days and there was no telling if she would leave Everton again before the wedding. Valerie had an inkling that she wouldn’t, if only to ensure that Valerie kept her mouth shut and quietly married Gabriel Larchmont in a drama-free ceremony in front of her wealthy, tittering friends. It was a small blessing that she’d had to be on Genesis this week to give Valerie time to prepare.
So, after such a day, it surprised and worried Valerie to see Dravka sprawled on the floor near the main entrance. It was evening. Night had already fallen and clients would begin arriving, which was why Valerie had needed to rush back.
Approaching Dravka, she wondered how long he’d been there. Casting her eyes to the trolley cart of alcohol, she saw thatallthe bottles were emptied.
“Dravka,” she said softly. His gaze focused on her but instead of the bleary, glassy gaze she’d expected, the look was steady though intense. “What are you doing?”
“I thought it would be obvious,” he said, shrugging, lifting the bottle next to him, bringing it to his lips, only to find it empty. He frowned.
“Did you drink all this?” she asked, dumbfounded, concerned. It was probably enough liquor to kill someone. Then again, Dravka was a Keriv’i.
She’d never seen him drink a drop of alcohol before. Not even with his meals. None of the Keriv’i did, for that matter.
“Pax,” he rasped. “And still it wasn’t enough.”
“Enough for what?”
He blew out a sharp breath, his hand reaching out to curl around her ankle. The touch startled her, though his hand was warm.
