For what couldn’t have been more than a second or two—but in her mind felt like forever—they stared at each other. Violent criminals had been a part of her life for longer than shecared to admit, but she couldn’t recall having ever seen anyone look as angry and dangerous as this azhera right now.
Angry, dangerous, and kinda hot.
Where the hell hadthatthought come from?
The azhera eased closer to her. “I’ve been looking for?—”
Shay released his arm and threw the stack of flyers in his face. The wobbly plastic pieces broke apart from each other the instant they were free, turning into a cloud of shimmering holographic advertisements that sent the azhera reeling.
Wheeling around, Shay ran. She had no destination, no plan, she just needed to escape. Even though this was one of the city sectors that seemed to have a very limited presence of peacekeepers, there were too many bystanders here, too many witnesses, for her to draw her blaster and start shooting. And even though Shay had done some shady stuff in her life, had broken a lot of laws, she’d never killed anyone—and she’d never hurt anyone that didn’t have it coming.
A bestial roar boomed behind her; it was the sort of sound that would’ve made a lion bow its head and scurry for a hiding place. Shay glanced over her shoulder to see the azhera swipe away the last few fluttering flyers. His fur was bristling, and the look of rage on his face had only intensified.
He charged toward her, plowing through the pedestrians in his path like a wrecking ball crashing through a wall.
Her eyes rounded, and her eyebrows rose. “Thaaaaat’snot good.”
Despite her soreness, her weariness, her awkwardness, Shay pushed herself forward with everything she had. The surprise advantage she’d gained with the flyers wouldn’t be enough to save her—she’d have to utilize anything she could to escape him.
And all she really had going for her right now was being alittleterran.
Cradling her belly with one hand, she turned toward the center of the street, where the crowd was at its thickest, and plunged directly into the press of bodies. For once, her size was a boon—being smaller than many of the aliens allowed her to slip through the crowd with relative ease, using them to shield her from the azhera’s view.
She could only hope it’d be enough.
Shay forced her way deeper into the ever-flowing river of alien pedestrians, twisting and turning as best she could to squeeze through the gaps. Her heart pounded, and her breath was ragged, but she didn’t let herself slow. If she stopped, that’d be it. Exhaustion would take hold and ensure she didn’t run anymore.
Shecouldn’tlet that happen. Saving her own skin was a great motivation, but it wasn’t her primary drive—not like it had been several months ago. She needed to keep her baby safe. She refused to birth her child into slavery.
The awkwardness of running through a thick crowd resulted in more bumps and touches than she cared for, but she shielded her belly, sparing it from the impacts. The exasperated words spoken by the aliens she hurried past—sometimes uttered in languages her implanted translator had trouble deciphering—flowed over her like a hot breeze, uncomfortable but ultimately harmless. She didn’t have the breath to spare for snarky retorts.
A series of near-simultaneous cries and shouts rose from the crowd behind her.
Shay’s heart skipped a beat when those cries were answered by a guttural snarl—a snarl that was much too close. How long would this crowd hold back a very large, very determined, veryangryazhera?
Not long enough.
More cries erupted from the pedestrians, drawing steadilycloser to Shay. For an instant, she pictured a slow-burning trail of gunpowder behind her, just like from an old cartoon, the little spark drawing nearer and nearer. Bad things happened when those sparks reached the character at the end of the line.
Her mind raced as she squeezed between a pair of tall, lanky aliens who were walking side-by-side; the aliens lifted their intertwined hands to glance down at her, opening a path for her to stumble forward.
If only her legs could move as fast as her thoughts.
“Out of the way,” the azhera yelled. He was perhaps as close as ten or fifteen meters, by the sound of it.
There was no question in Shay’s mind—even were she in peak physical condition, she couldn’t outrun him, especially not in the mazelike tunnels and alleyways of the Undercity. Her only hope was to outmaneuver him.
The trams!
She’d used Arthos’s public transportation—which the city provided as a free service—almost every day over the last few weeks. Without a private vehicle at her disposal, the trams were likely her only chance of escaping her pursuer.
Shay turned sharply toward the edge of the street; there was usually more room to maneuver near the shops and vendor stalls along the sides of the road. When she emerged from the thickest part of the crowd, she paused for only an instant—just long enough to lift her gaze and spot a glowing sign ahead. The largest letters on it were written in Universal Speech.
Public Transport.
She sprinted toward it, weaving around meandering shoppers and bystanders.
Shouts and curses from behind her called her attention back. She glanced over her shoulder to see the azhera burst out of the crowd, knocking over at least three pedestrians in the process. He came to an abrupt halt, snapping his head fromside to side with his nostrils flaring as though he were scenting the air.