The bartender approached, wiping at the counter.
“I overheard what you said. I might know of a job.”
He sat up straighter. “I would appreciate it.” It might help him gain information, especially if he were to work directly for Yorlian Trevis. Everyone on the colony seemed to in one way or another.
“What did you do before?”
“This and that.”
“You’re not very talkative.”
“It pays to keep my mouth shut. I like creds more than conversation.”
The bartender nodded. “Let me talk to someone. I’ll be back.”
He noticed that Pree had strode up to Dovis, who was rapidly shaking his head. Cavas wanted to groan. The male was mated, of course he’d instantly say no to sex. Amarains like Dovis bonded to one female for life.
The response was swift. One moment Dovis sat on the barstool, and the next, the two bouncers were on him.
Cavas remained still, torn between helping him and keeping his cover. He needn’t have worried. The head of security for The Vorge was a good fighter, even in skin. Dovis took down both bouncers fast, standing over their unconscious bodies in seconds.
The bartender jumped over the counter and tried to take him down next. Dovis turned and punched him in the face. The sound of bones breaking was loud.
Cavas slid off his seat and leapt forward.
Dovis spun, fists raised, and snarled at Cavas.
He lifted his hands. “You just took out someone who might get me a job. Leave or I’ll knock you out, stranger.”
Dovis frowned momentarily—then attacked. Cavas dodged his fist easily and swung, pulling his own punch at the last second.
Dovis yelled out as if in pain and flew backward though, playing along. He crashed into the bar before sinking to his ass, pretending to be down for the count.
It was tough not to laugh. Cavas liked Cathian’s crew. They would have made excellent soldiers. He stepped over Dovis’s legs and helped the bartender up. Blood poured from his broken nose.
“Are you good?”
The bartender glanced at the unconscious bouncers, then at Dovis, still pretending to be unconscious. “You’re hired. Pick that traitor up and carry him downstairs. We have holding cells.”
Cavas gave a sharp nod. Dovis might not have meant to cause a fight but it had worked in their favor. “What’s the pay?”
The bartender held his gaze. “Three hundred a day. Free room upstairs included, and two meals.”
Cavas nodded and leaned down, grabbing hold of Dovis and hoisting him over his shoulder. The male kept his body lax. The bartender led him to the back of the bar and through one wide door before pointing out another. “Go down. Tell the guard that Mall sent you, and you’re new. His name is Grah.”
Cavas realized the second door didn’t hide stairs, but a lift instead. He entered, glancing around stealthily, but there were no signs of security measures to monitor them. He shifted Dovis’s limp body to a more comfortable position over his shoulder after the door sealed. “You weigh a ton,” he whispered.
“You punch like a child.”
Cavas fought a laugh and pushed the old-fashioned button to make the lift go down. “Interesting that they have a floor underground. Wouldn’t it be great if Crath is down here?”
“We can’t be lucky enough to find him that fast. They wouldn’t make it too easy for us.”
“I know. I just want to find him.” The doors opened and Cavas stepped out.
A large red male with horns stood from his chair, reaching for the gun strapped to his hip. Dolten aliens were dumb creatures, mostly known for hiring out their muscle to others and eating uncooked meat. They were strong, though, and excellent fighters.
“Mall sent me. I’m Jorgan. You’re Grah. I’m supposed to lock this one up. Mall said he’s a traitor. Did he work here before or something?”
The guard took his hand off his weapon and came closer, his black eyes scanning Dovis. “No. Never smelled him before. Probably law. That’s what we call them. They come here sometimes. We make them disappear. Good eating.” He turned, walked to a solid metal wall, and pressed his hand against a reader pad nearby. “Follow me.”
Cavas’s humor had faded as the alien talked. They ate law enforcement? It sent a shiver down his spine. What kind of planet was Yorlian Trevis running?
A far worse one than they had imagined, if he allowed his hired thugs to eat prisoners.
Cavas followed the large alien into a mostly lit corridor with a long line of cells. The three they passed contained various aliens. Grah pulled his weapon, pointing it at the two occupants of the barred cell he stopped in front of, and waved his other wrist over the lock. The door slid open.
“Toss him in there.”
Cavas tapped Dovis’s leg to warn him. He couldn’t see all the cells farther down, but he hoped Crath would be in one of them. But no way would he allow Dovis to be locked up—especially after the eating comment. “Sure thing. Just make sure you don’t accidently shoot me. That’s no stunner.”
“Right. Mine makes big holes in prisoners if they rush me.” Grah moved to the side, keeping his weapon pointed at the two males in the cell.
Cavas tensed as he stepped closer and gave three light taps in rapid succession for Dovis. His men knew what that meant, but he hoped the Amarian figured it out.
He reached the open cell—and suddenly twisted, dumping Dovis off his shoulder and lunging for the gun.
He grabbed the red alien’s wrist and shoved it upward. The gun discharged into the ceiling, chunks of debris falling around them. Pieces of it hit Cavas but he barely noticed. He was too focused on the guard.
The bigger male recovered from the sudden attack and tried to use his clawed fingers to tear at Cavas’s eyes. But Dovis was there, grabbing the red hand heading for his face and preventing it from doing damage. It took them both to steal his weapon and use it.
Grah wouldn’t be eating any more prisoners ever again.
Cavas turned to study the two males inside the cell. They were against the back wall, watching with leery expressions, but they didn’t try to escape through the open door. He pointed the weapon at the skinny blue alien he couldn’t identify. “What are you in for?”
“Being the wrong skin color.”
Cavas arched an eyebrow.
“Truth,” the alien swore. “They hate blue skin here.”
The yellow alien nodded. “They do. I’m here for not paying a bill—but they charged me four times for the same night. Nobody would listen to me.”
“Have you seen a Tryleskian my size? Longer hair, black? He’s probably going by the name of Brit?”
They both shook their heads.
“Stay put. We’re releasing everyone soon, but I’m checking the other cells first. We stand a better chance of escaping if we all rush out of here together. Understood?”
The blue one wrung his long, skinny hands. “Truth?”
“Truth. Just stay put for now while we search. Then we’ll leave. Everyone goes.”
The yellow alien pushed off from the wall. “Don’t release the green beast! Leave him.”
Cavas frowned. “Why?”
The yellow alien shuddered. “He kills anyone they put in with him. Crazy. No control. He’ll attack us all.”
“I’ll be careful.”
Leaving Dovis at the open cell, Cavas moved to the next, peering in. Three prisoners were in the small space, all staring at him with hope. He guessed they’d overheard his conversation. Crath wasn’t amongst them.
“Did you see—”
“No. Your kind run this planet. They don’t get locked up,” one of them said before he could finish.
Cavas moved on, peering inside each cell and asking about his brother. No one had any information to share. So far, all he’d learned was that Yorlian Trevis must have hired every dishonorable Tryleskian he could find.
Seven cells down, a Parri male stood holding on to the bars of the door. Cavas kept out of reach.