Slag: Book Four in the Galaxy Pirates Alien Abduction Romance Series (Shifter) Alana Khan (love letters to the dead .txt) 📖

We’ve been on this planet less than a day, we didn’t really explore on our way to the falls earlier. If we’d been here longer, perhaps we would know where a cave or boulders were that we could use to hide. As it is, all we can do is run, which doesn’t seem like the most effective strategy.

Another laser strike hits from above. A fiery crackle sounds like several trees are going up in flames. I don’t take the time to look behind me, I just know this one sounded closer than the last. We’re nowhere near the falls. I don’t think we’re going to get that far.

“You have nowhere to run to,” a rasping voice knifes through the air. “Stop!”

Shit.

We just keep running.

Although it’s fully dark, I can tell that a craft is moving above us, between the ground and the cloud cover. When I look up, I see a pie-shaped ship with twinkling red running lights skimming along above us.

“I’d hate to have to kill you now. The chase hasn’t been near enough fun.”

Obviously, this is a case of mistaken identity. The pirates assured me Sooma Ryone is dead. Besides, I can’t see Ryone bothering to chase us across the galaxy. It’s not like I was important to him, and I’m not sure he could even pick A’Zul out of a lineup.

Another laser burst explodes in the forest behind us, and before I can recover from that shock, the vessel above us points a targeted beam of light no more than three feet in front of A’Zul. This definitely grabs our attention. We stop abruptly.

A red laser beams directly on A’zul’s forehead. There’s nothing like the clear knowledge that your mate could be incinerated before your eyes to give clarity to your feelings about them. This is A’Zul, the male I love. What do I need to do to protect him?

“I figured you’d see the light,” the disembodied male voice chuckles as if he just told a joke.

Our pursuers on the ground join us in moments, first crashing through leaves, then emerging into the small clearing where we’re standing. There are six of them, all tall and thin wearing camo body armor.

A’Zul and I are well-armed. We might be able to take them, but we have no idea how many people are in the vessel above us. We know one thing, though, they have pinpoint accuracy, if the beam of light on A’Zul’s forehead is any indication.

“I’m going to shoot them, KJ. Run now and I’ll kill as many as I can before they kill me.”

“No!” I say, my voice so low it’s almost a growl. “It’s a death sentence for you and probably won’t save me at all. Whoever’s up there will kill me in a heartbeat. We’re in this together.”

The fact that he doesn’t argue means he knows I’m right. In my swift glance at him, I catch the tight set of his jaw and his flared nostrils. Not being able to protect me is killing him, but at least we’re both alive. There has to be a way out of this.

Who’s taunting us?

I can’t help but wonder what would happen if A’Zul shifted into his dragon form right now. I’m not even sure he can breathe fire. That’s just an Earth legend, right? Who knows what his actual dragon self could do. But I picture him incinerating the henchmen standing in front of us as well as whoever’s in the ship floating above our heads.

Five minutes later we’ve been relieved of our weapons by the team on the ground and beamed aboard a ship. It’s smaller than the Ataraxia, and much more luxurious.

Sitting in the captain’s chair is a lavender male with a bright purple mohawk. His face is . . . ruined—there’s no other way to describe it.

Lexa told me big, blue Sextus had carved his sister’s initials into Daneur Khour’s face and threw acid on it, which didn’t leave a pretty picture in my mind. But what I’m seeing is so much worse than what I’d imagined. The skin, an unpleasant shade of eggplant, is wrinkled and wavy, giving him a permanent sneer.

There’s no doubt in my mind this is Daneur Khour. I thought he was pursuing big blue Sextus and the pirates. Why has he captured A’Zul and me?

His steepled fingers press against his lips as he inspects us.

“I was hoping for someone . . . bluer,” he says, glowering at A’Zul. “What are you doing in the pirate’s lair?”

“Squatting,” I say.

“What?” That must not have translated.

“It’s a long story of how the big dummy and I were dumped here. The place looked uninhabited.” I shrug casually, as if my insides aren’t quaking “You almost killed us,” I report as if it’s of little consequence.

A calm descends and my brain shifts into 911 operator mode becoming a computer capable of running fifty internal programs at once. I somehow intuit it will be better if everyone underestimates A’Zul.

During our weeks in the cave on Rhoid, when he didn’t talk and the days were interminable, I babbled constantly. Some of what I said was so idiotic I have no idea how he fell in love with me.

I distinctly remember telling him that they used to call people who didn’t talk dumb. I hope it translated. I hope he remembered it—he was in and out of it that whole time. And I hope he takes the not-so-subtle hint.

When I glance over, I see his eyes have glazed over and his shoulders are sagging. Good job, A’zul. That took twenty points off your I.Q.

“I don’t believe you for a moment,” Khour says.

I channel my inner Valley Girl and shrug again as if our lives aren’t on the line.