Earth Husbands are Odd (Earth Fathers #2) - Lyn Gala Page 0,47

you.”

Carrington followed as Max approached the main exit. Fresh air from outside leaked through the thick ship air like water through a sieve, assuming that water seeped through that sieve in such small quantities that a person was desperate for more. The humidity was killing Max. “From a certain perspective, perhaps,” Carrington admitted. “I dislike how humans see perspective.”

Max laughed. “We are annoying,” he agreed. He increased the cart’s speed now that he saw the open door.

“I would ensure you compensation beyond the ensuring of honorless Bundy,” Carrington tried again. She was the most persistent alien ever. Well, other than Rick, but that didn’t count because Max liked Rick.

“Max!” a voice called out in English. For a half second, Max feared Xander had followed him, but Xander’s voice was lower and more sing-song than clipped like this one. Dee raced toward him. “Run!” she screamed.

Max’s feet engaged before he could consider motives or possibilities. His squad member told him he had to run, so he dropped the cart’s remote and sprinted toward the exit. A Tribes alien came out of a side door, and Max went into a controlled slide, his feet forward, the sides of them digging up the slime that covered the ship’s floor. He hit the Tribe’s alien in the ankle, and with a bugle, the creature went down.

It scrambled to catch Max, but all it caught was the edge of a shirt that ripped when Max jerked free. He dashed for the open air, but the second he broke free, he spotted the line waiting for him. People of Red, their violet stripes and lips—their operatic cries as they spotted Max—their law-enforcer uniforms. Oh fuck. Something had gone wrong.

A body crashed into him from behind, and then human hands clutched his arm. “Oh fuck,” Dee whispered, an echo of his own thoughts. Yep, that about summed it up. An alien raised a stunning weapon, and Max raised his hands in surrender.

Chapter Seventeen

Max followed the lead law-enforcement alien, but most of his attention was on Dee who walked beside him. He had no idea what she had done, but she had done something. He knew it. He kept glaring at her, but she was immune because she didn't even bother looking chagrined.

Carrington’s ship was closer to the city, and that was where they were headed. It meant that every step took him farther from his family. Max wondered how long Rick would wait for him to return before he figured out that something was wrong. Selfishly, Max wished Rick were here to curl a tentacle around his arm and tell him that he knew how to fix this.

Not that Rick would say that. Rick would bugle complaints about Max never listening to his warnings. He would probably then add a few insults about Max not running fast enough. Even if Rick berated him for following this stupid plan, Max would want him here. And to be honest, Rick had a right to say “I told you so” about a thousand times.

They passed the three- and four-story buildings that housed traders and craftsmen and headed deeper into the city, always surrounded in front and back by the purple People of the Red. At one point, they passed an alley, and Max considered making a run for it, but when they got to the entrance, a police officer stood in the opening, his oversized lips moving with puck-puck-puck sounds.

At five feet tall, it wasn’t impressive, but its weapon was. Bundy had tried to convince Max that weapons weren’t valuable commodities. He was either an optimist or an idiot. And the whole time, aliens stepped aside to watch as Max and Dee were escorted by the armed guards. As they passed, the chatter would quiet, and huge alien eyes would watch them pass.

They passed under an archway, and the boardwalk broadened and the buildings grew taller. Max had never been to this part of the city. Fuck. Max glared at Dee, but this time she narrowed her eyes and glared back at him. “Don't give me shit because I warned you too late for you to get out,” she snapped at him. She lifted her chin and probably hoped to project strength, but that was not the impression Max got.

A forward guard turned to consider them, and hysterical giggles floated through Max’s gut. Rick would have told the guard that it lacked eyes in appropriately asymmetrical rear-facing places.

No matter what had happened, the police were treating both of them the