MAGGIE
I’m unable to stop the rather irritating part scream, part squeak I make as a huge Sarkarnii warrior manages to surprise me, wings outstretched in a half dragon half man form.
Their ability to move like cats, silently despite their size, is not a welcome trait for these great idiotic aliens. And, yes, I have been on their planet for some time, and yes, I should be used to them by now.
But I’m not. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to being around what are basically lethal sky puppies. And the one who buzzed me was probably curious about the alien female.Again.
It doesn’t stop me from shouting a string of expletives at him. Curious or not about the humans, alien as we are to the Sarkarnii, it doesn’t give him the right to scare the crap out of me.
Especially as I’m not at my best this morning. Not only have I missed breakfast because I woke up late, but we’re still stuck in Dante’s sector, and Dante is my least favorite of the warlords because he’s the least predictable. I’m only here because of Rosalie, Dante’s human mate and my friend, and also because,for some unknown reason, my other friend, Lydia, feels safe here.
I know she doesn’t want to go to any of the other sectors as we were ordered to by Dalox, the big, brooding older male Sarkarnii warlord and their erstwhile leader, and while I dig my heels in here in Dante’s sector, we don’t have to.
The door to our quarters opens, and I see Lydia sat in the central seating area. In front of her is a spread of food I instantly descend on like a woman half starved.
“Did you miss breakfast?” Lydia asks.
I look up from my feral chewing. “How did you know?”
“You weren’t there.”
I shrug. Good point.
“Thanks for this.” I gesture to the food. “I can’t seem to wake up in the mornings anymore.”
“We’re all bound to feel the effects of being here in different ways,” Lydia says sadly.
Her pale skin seems more translucent and more blue than ever. I shuffle my bum over and put my arm around her shoulders.
“I know it’s hard for you,” I say. “I recommend you eat some of the green pancakes as a cure.”
Lydia blinks at me. I blink back at her. There is a long pause.
“You’re joking, right?”
“You know I am. No one in their right mind shouldevereat green pancakes. Not after what happened to Scarlett.”
“She thought they were matcha.” Lydia snorts a tiny laugh, and it makes me feel better.
“She was wrong.”
“So wrong.” Lydia risks a giggle. I give her shoulder another squeeze before going back to eating.
“Have you heard?” Lydia says, coming back to the seating area with two steaming hot cups of fee, a slightly sweet, almostmilky drink the Sarkarnii claim not to like and yet which is ubiquitous.
I have always preferred their ale wine, which the rest of my friends cannot stomach.
“Heard what?”
“About Driok.”
“I don’t give a shit about Driok, as you well know,” I spit out.
“Oh, I know,” Lydia says salaciously. “I think we all know. I think the entiregalaxyknows you don’t like Driok.”
“He’s an arrogant, egotistical, scaly wanker.”
“Oh? I thought he was a complete titting arsehole.” Lydia does an impression of my Yorkshire accent, and I growl under my breath.
