Stealing Jia (Coletti Warlords #12) - Gail Koger Page 0,15

guy entered the bar. His gaze fixed on us. “I think we have a problem.”

“Yagga’s are always a problem. He probably knows you are a female,” Loki snarled.

“Should I be concerned?”

Ivan placed his laser pistol on the table and stroked it. “Yaggas are addicted to sex and their three penises secret a substance that causes fatal convulsions in most females. Since few last more than two days, they must constantly replace the ones they kill.”

Merda! “Have they ever thought of getting a blow-up doll or a robot?”

“The female’s screams and convulsions add to their pleasure,” Loki said.

“Those degenerate bastards need to die.”

Ivan nodded. “I agree.”

The Yagga took the table next to us and tapped on his comm-link. Was he calling for reinforcements, scanning me or both? “Is he desperate enough to take you two on?”

“No. Yagga’s are cowards and poor fighters.” Loki replied.

Ivan added, “They let others do their fighting.”

“Aren’t you a tiny bit worried that he’s called for his thugs?”

“No.” Loki walked over to the caged bar and said something to the bartender.

Ivan hooted as the dancer jumped on our table and shook her breasts in his face.

I rolled my eyes.

Pepe peeked his head out. “What she do?”

“It’s called table dancing. It’s a guy thing.” I pinched Ivan’s hand to get his attention. “Why haven’t the Yaggas killed her?”

“She’s a Tiktik. They eat their mates.” Ivan stuffed a credit chip in her G-string. “She’s too talented of a dancer for anyone to kill and butcher.”

“Why does she smell like rotted meat?”

“Chuff, chuff,” Ivan said, and the dancer jumped to another table. “Water is a scarce commodity here. No one bathes.”

That explained the stench.

Loki came back with three bottles of Datol. He handed me one and took a seat. “There is an old freighter on pad twelve that fits our requirements.”

Ivan smiled and chugged his Datol.

Guess I could try their beer. It was cold. Ick. The bottle was covered with a greasy substance. On second thought, it might not be a good idea. “Do they sell water?”

Loki snorted. “Water is two hundred credits per bottle. Datol is five credits.”

“Is it safe to drink?”

“Nothing on this world is safe,” Ivan said.

An extremely dirty Bjarke male with one long oily braid stormed into the bar. His armor was crusted with God knows what. He stopped in front of our table. “I want the female.”

I pulled my laser pistol.

Pepe growled.

Loki and Ivan totally ignored him.

Everyone in the bar retreated to the far side of the room. Totally oblivious, the dancer kept on gyrating.

“Give me the female or I will take her from you,” he bellowed.

I’d like to see him try. On a private link I asked Loki, “Who is he?”

Rage flashed across Loki’s face. “Halvor the Betrayer. Our father.”

Holy Mary Mother of God. This was about to get nasty.

Halvor the Betrayer pulled a blood encrusted sword. “Is she worth dying for?”

“I see Dingle is still your master,” Ivan spat.

Halvor pointed his sword at Ivan. “You will show me the proper respect.”

“You deserve none.” Ivan erupted to his feet. “You would have sold Yakira to that monster.”

“It was my right,” Halvor screamed.

I slid out of my chair. Someone was off his meds.

Loki stood up. “She was your daughter.”

“Not by blood.”

Disgust and fury burning in his eyes, Ivan spit in his face, “Quod mox ut nondum gradatim. I renounce you again.”

“As do I,” Loki growled.

An evil smile curved Halvor’s mouth. “Vengeance will be mine. You will all die horribly.”

I quickly scanned the room. Six rather large goons were creeping up behind us and they had brought their Rodan buddies with them. “We’ve got company.” I flashed them an image of Halvor’s friends.

A muscle ticked in Loki’s jaw. “Prepare to die, father.”

Everyone in the bar fled, leaving Loki, Ivan and me facing off with Halvor the Betrayer and his chums.

Halvor laughed. “You are surrounded. Get on your knees and beg for your lives. Now!”

My temper flared to life. “Shut the hell up.” I stunned him.

The father of the year crashed to the floor as his arms and legs spasmed violently.

“Duck,” Ivan commanded.

I hit the floor. An instant later a knife whizzed by and impaled a support beam. “I thought the idiots wanted me alive?”

“Dingle won’t care what kind of shape you are in. If you die, they can sell your flesh for a hundred thousand credits,” Ivan replied.

Cazzo! I rolled under the table and flipped my pistol from stun to laser mode.

Dropping down on his knees, the Yagga reached for me. “Mine.”

“Not in this lifetime or