Hanna and the Hitman - Honey Phillips Page 0,20

loyal, and the loyal half lack intelligence. Unfortunately, it’s the intelligent ones who hate me.” Chotgor bared his teeth. “You are intelligent and you have no reason to hate me. And loyalty can be bought.”

“How much?”

Chotgor laughed. “You see? An intelligent question. Ten percent of the profits from the drug.”

“Twenty percent. As you said, it will be some time before you can reap the rewards, and I will be confined to this planet until then.”

“Fifteen percent to begin, but I will increase the percentage each year for five years as long as you remain loyal.”

Aidon paused as if considering the offer. “That is acceptable,” he said finally.

Despite Chotgor’s earlier words, the other male obviously didn’t place a high value on his intelligence. Aidon was quite sure that Chotgor had no intention of sharing any of his profits. He would leave Aidon in charge for as long as he needed him and then dispose of him before he was required to pay out.

During the negotiations, Aidon had been surveying the lab. It would have to be destroyed. He had no intention of letting an entire race be sold into slavery.

“When are you leaving?” he asked.

“Within the next day or so. I intend to take the Hothian female with me, and she is already restless.”

“Why take her? I’m sure you have other…companions.”

“I do, and I begin to grow tired of fur. But she would make a good reward for one of my fighters. Or perhaps…” Chotgor’s eyes gleamed. “Perhaps I would make her a fighter.”

Once again, he forced his face to remain calm. For all the brutality of the fight pits, none of them had yet used females as fighters.

“Which reminds me.” Chotgor gave him a speculative glance. “I will have need of a new slave. Yours seems quite…enthusiastic.”

Anger roared through Aidon, and he clenched his fists before his claws could emerge. “I thought you said she was too fragile?”

The other male shrugged. “It would make a pleasant change from the Hothian female. Sell her to me.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Why not?” Chotgor frowned at him.

“I have no inclination for Hothian females either. I will need someone to warm my bed while I’m here.”

“You can have your pick of my other females. Choose two, even.” Chotgor’s voice hardened. “Don’t forget who’s in charge here. What matters is what I want, and I want to see all that pretty red hair wrapped around my fist while I ram my cock down her throat. See if she’s as good as she looks.”

The thought of this bastard abusing his sweet Hanna filled Aidon with rage, and this time, he couldn’t control his transformation. He felt his vision change and forced himself back under control, but it was too late. Chotgor stared at him.

“You’re not the Hitman. Who the fuck are you?”

“I’m just here to retrieve something that doesn’t belong to you.”

“The Hothian bitch?” Chotgor didn’t wait for a reply, prowling toward him. “Doesn’t matter. Neither of you will be leaving this place. And your little slave is going to pay for the deception.”

Chotgor launched into a flying kick as he finished speaking, aiming for Aidon’s groin. The other male was lightning fast despite his retirement, but Aidon managed to dance back before the foot connected. He used his momentum to spin around and aim a kick of his own. It caught Chotgor’s knee with a satisfactory crack. The male staggered but recovered quickly, abandoning any attempt at finesse for a brute-force attack, trying to lock Aidon in his grip where his weight and bulk would give him the advantage. Aidon let him get close, then slipped past him with another blow to the same knee.

The deadly dance continued. Aidon caught a vicious blow to his ribs but managed to avoid being trapped in Chotgor’s arms. He led the fight to the far side of the room, his body aching as more of Chotgor’s punches connected, then aimed one final kick at the weakened knee. This time the kneecap shattered, and Chotgor went down with a howl of anguish.

“You will never lay hands on my female,” he said as he turned away, his voice ice cold.

“You’re going to pay for this, you bastard.”

“No. You will.”

As soon as Aidon reached the other side of the room, he let his hand shift, transforming to his true form. His nails clicked against each other, natural flints, and with one sharp strike, he drew them across the stone surface of a lab table. A series of sparks followed the path of