The Soul Eaters (The Thin Hex Line Book 1) by Gwyndolyn Russell (e reader txt) 📕

"Shut up. Let's get to the war room so we can get the footage."

Ianisse slung the bag over his shoulder so it rested on his hip. He headed from the docks and back to the heart of the station. His hands trembled at the possibilities. Finally, he had a chance to prove that he could do it. He wouldn't let them down.

Spectre never came back to the club. In fact, he almost missed her in the crowd of the evening. She walked down the busy street, seemingly chatting to nobody at all.

Ianisse followed her. She stuck out like a sore thumb with red hair done up like a mohawk. Her dog was right at her side.

He expected to see something organic, yet Mako was a machine. Obviously modeled after the real thing, his design was sleek without a single exposed wire or soft spot. He was nearly as big as Spectre.

Just on her other side was her companion, Phantom, hands stuffed down into the pockets of his jacket. Half of a helmet rested atop his head, shaped like a wolf's skull. Ianisse figured it was positioned like that so he could see, because there was no way with it down where it probably was meant to be.

Reaper and Jackal failed to mention Phantom. Maybe they didn't think he'd be with her today. He nearly dwarfed her in size. Yet she was supposedly the threat. If human females were weaker than their male counterparts, then this man was an even larger threat.

Ianisse fought and killed eldiravan. They were superior to humans! If he could handle that, then these guys stood no chance. He was not tasked to kill though, only watch.

They wandered the station. Went through the market where Spectre browsed the items. Phantom stood back, watching her and what was going on around them. She inspected random things. Foods, jewelry, tech, weapons. She had not even bothered to buy anything. Not even haggle.

Ianisse dared to get closer, pretending to browse a stall two spots down. While she checked out some sort of gadget, he pretended to be interested in a jar of honey.

"Didn’t realize this would be a shopping trip.” Phantom grumbled.

“We’re here on business.” She put the gadget down to inspect another. “Ain’t ever gonna be safe enough.”

“What happened to killing them before they kill us?”

“It’s not that easy anymore.” Another stall, this time with bubbling contraptions. “It’s not just us. Civilians are involved. I mean, you fuckin’ saw that.”

The conversation drowned out in the crowd’s chatter. Ianisse moved through the crowd. By the time he could hear the conversation again, it had changed topics. A typical everyday conversation about the weather and what was around them. When they made it to a shabby stall selling weapons, Spectre took her time.

“No Mozams?” She questioned.

The man across from her swallowed hard.

“Not today.” He said.

“You should get them.” She tossed the pistol back down onto the counter. Scooped up another she promptly inspected.

“Christ, can’t you sell anything that’s reliable?” She tore the slide off the pistol, breaking a couple pins. “These are all fake.” She growled. “No Mozams. Fake weapons. Are you trying to kill your customers? You can’t be that stupid.” She pulled out the firing pin and the trigger system all with her bare fingers. Each piece was tossed back down to the counter.

“Hey, stop that! None of these are bad!”

“I should do the station a favor and burn this shit down.” She said, ripping the rest of the pistol in half. “If you don’t know where Mozam is, then you better tell me where I can get one.”

“E-Emporium! Down by Emporium!” He cried.

“Should have started with that!” She smiled.

Off they went down the street, no longer browsing the stalls. Ianisse had to run to catch up to them. Now he bothered to activate that EMP shield. He may not have known the station well, but he did know where the Emporium was. It was back towards the docks. He took a few shortcuts to not just keep up with the two alphas, but to stay out of their sight.

“I might kill him.” Spectre said. “Bastard was supposed to be there.”

“What do we need this guy for?”

“He’s the first contact for strays.” She sighed.

She shoved the door open. Mellow music filled the room at a low volume. A television playing a news station. A handful of people were lounged about. A man at the counter helping another customer. On the couch right in front of the television was Mozam. He was kicked back smoking from one end of a bubbling and smoking contraption set up on the table.

“Spectre! You made it!” He cheered lazily.

“I didn’t ask to come to a drug den, you asshole.” She sat herself down on the table.

“Oh, come on!” He sang. “Take a hit. Relax. You’re always so tense.”

“Yeah, the last time I smoked with you I ended up naked and alone on a beach five systems away. Not happening again.”

He groaned. “I’ve apologized so many times for that, man! I had no idea what was in that bowl.” He started to laugh. “That was a crazy week.”

Ianisse knelt down at a lightly cracked window. Peeking inside every so often. His falcon perched down at the corner to keep an eye out for anyone passing by.

Spectre broke into a different language. One Ianisse had never heard before. Little did he know that she was speaking one of the many languages from Earth that were never brought to the Alliance. It was the fate of many languages. Exiled due to convenience and ease of use. Only the most used languages were brought and added to translators. The lesser ones were forgotten entirely, or restricted to their native lands.

Even Phantom seemed a little confused. Mozam and Spectre both spoke fluently, switching the language as they pleased, sometimes multiple times during a single sentence. The conversation lasted a few minutes, never returning to English until Spectre had enough. Then she and Phantom