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bought the pair from one of her neighbors back on Earth.

The woman had been scammed into a Ponzi scheme, and it was the only way Nia had known how to help—even though the shoes were a size too large.

It was just bad luck they were the shoes she’d been wearing when she’d been taken. Digging down, she had to scrunch her toes in order to keep the shoe from falling off. When it settled back on her foot, her heel landed on something hard like a pebble, and Nia bit back a hiss of discomfort.

So not only was she hobbling now, but she was fighting against what felt like the current of a moving river. Struggling against the group of aliens pushing her along was like trying to swim through the rapids.

“Listen! I’m not one of you. Look at me! Please, just let me through!”

The aliens kept going, not listening to her, and Nia realized she was caught in a most unexpected of situations. She needed to do something.

“Phek, he’s really out of it,” one said.

“Phekking talking nonsense,” another said. “I told you not to give the new ones any woogli drink. It’s too strong for them.”

Shit, that’s right. They couldn’t understand her. No one spoke English on this planet.

Fuuuuuuck.

The panic on her spine spiked and shattered all across her body, sending icicles through her veins.

With a final effort, Nia tried to scramble from the group. She flailed her arms as she tried to free herself from between the aliens. With strength she never knew she had, she resisted the arms holding hers down to grab on to two of their shoulders so she could surge forward toward the edge of the street. Hope flared as she saw the street side for just a moment.

They were going up an incline now and, for just a moment, she managed to see Lauren’s blonde hair when the crowd parted just a little. She and Riv were still arguing with the merchant selling the cradles.

She saw Lauren turn to say something to her, she assumed, and the exact moment when the woman realized she was no longer standing there was clear.

Panic flooded Lauren’s face and Nia called out, but with the noise of the exchange and the distance now between them, neither Riv nor Lauren heard her.

That’s when she felt another blow to the back of her head and this time, it didn’t make her vision swim. It made her vision go dark.

Fuck.

“No!”

She’d been so close.

She fought to retain consciousness, but a scream died on her lips as she felt her body fall against the aliens around her.

4

Ka’Cit Urgmental hated the Exchange.

Not because of how busy it was.

No.

He didn’t hate the crowds. He simply hated the individuals that made up the crowds.

He could see the demons on most of their faces—the lies they hid behind.

He only needed a few seconds looking at them to know if they were thinking something nefarious.

Maybe it was because of his job, the life he’d chosen for himself, but it was an uncanny skill that made him question the motives of every single being around him.

He’d long learned that most beings were selfish. Always.

He sat at one of the food stalls on one of the upper levels of the exchange, a woogli drink oozing in front of him on the counter.

Down below, the sea of shoppers on the main street flowed and ebbed.

He was alone. Despite that food stalls were always crowded at the exchange, this one was empty, save for his presence.

In front of him, the food merchant trembled as he pretended to dry some fresh drinking utensils.

What was his problem?

Ka’Cit eyed the merchant through the slit in his mask.

“Is—is something wrong with the drink?” the merchant asked, his round eyes flicking from the drink to Ka’Cit then back. His thin grey arms trembled, as did the antennae on the top of his head. “I can make a new one, no problem. No problem at all.”

Ka’Cit growled and the merchant almost dropped the utensil he was pretending to dry. “What makes you think I want a new drink?”

The merchant trembled even more. “B—because…well, you haven’t touched that one and you’ve been sitting here for quite…some…time?” The last words came out in a trembling voice, and the merchant’s eyes darted across the street to another merchant. When Ka’Cit glanced behind him, he saw the other merchant duck behind his stall before the shutters slowly closed.

Ka’Cit glanced back at the merchant in front of him. “Do you have a problem with that?”

The merchant began shaking his head so hard his antennae wobbled.

“Good. Then we don’t have a problem.”

Ka’Cit stared at the drink.

He wasn’t going to drink it.

Even if he was thirsty, he wouldn’t have removed his mask to quench his thirst.

He never took his mask off around people he didn’t trust and especially not in public.

He’d simply bought the drink so he’d have something to do other than stare at the counter while he waited for time to pass.

He had a job to do later. Information to collect. Maybe a few arms to break. You never knew with these things.

At that thought, his gaze darted to the group of Niftrills at the food stall farther down on the street below.

They were moving now, having finished their drink.

It was go time.

They had no idea he was on their tail. Earlier, when he’d bumped into one of them, he’d put a tracker and listening device on the Niftrill’s coat.

It was simply so could hear everything they were saying—not that he expected to get what he wanted that way.

It was never that easy.

“If everything is okay, Bone Crusher,” the merchant interrupted his thoughts once again, “I would like to close the stall. I, um, have, um, business to attend to?”

Was that a question?

Ka’Cit’s eyes narrowed to slits.

Bone Crusher.

He hated that name.

He didn’t crush bones…he merely broke them.

There was a difference…really, there was.

But this wasn’t a time to get into conversation with some random merchant. He was on a job.

His gaze slid

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