Renegade Runner by Nicole Conway (e books free to read txt) 📕

I … I was going to be sick.

“Hey,” Phox murmured quietly, his tone deep and soothing as he leaned down so he could speak right into my ear. “Take a few deep breaths. It’s almost over.”

I set my jaw and flashed him a heated, tearful glare. Almost over? It was just freaking starting. Didn’t he get that? Sure, he had what he wanted now. He had his citizenship license. He had a little money. He could walk at any time.

And now I knew for sure that, eventually, he would.

I didn’t have that luxury. Where would I go? What would I do? I didn’t know anyone who didn’t want me dead except for Rout and him—and even Rout’s desire to keep me alive was circumstantial. I doubted it would last if I couldn’t race.

My only hope, my only goal, was winning enough that I could get back home.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we welcome you tonight as we join together to formally recognize the winners of the Renegade Run first-circuit race!” A flashy, green-skinned female announcer appeared above us, floating on a thin silver disk. Dozens of small orbs, like miniature versions of spec-cams, floated around and followed her as she passed by. She tossed some of her long, neon-pink hair as she smiled and waved, her features exaggerated by brightly colored makeup as she blew kisses to the audience. They clapped and screamed louder, reaching for her as she hovered slowly past and even stretched out a hand to brush a few of theirs like a pop star pandering to her adoring fans.

“But, as many of you know, tonight is an especially momentous occasion. We have among us two new radiants! They captured our hearts with their incredible gestures of self-sacrifice. I know I was utterly breathless. Weren’t you? Of course you were! Such passion!” She giggled and spun to face us, thrusting out a hand in presentation with a creepy, too-wide smile that revealed her fang-like incisors. Apart from that, she might’ve looked human—maybe—if not for the sweeping, white horns protruding from her head right above her fin-like ears. “Please welcome Brinna of Earth and Phox Kellus of Olset!”

All eyes were back on us. But my eyes gravitated to Phox. Kellus? Was that his last name? Why hadn’t he told me? Well, to be fair, I hadn’t told him my last name, either. They probably only knew my first one because the spec-cams had picked up on him calling me that through the race.

Maybe it didn’t matter, but it hit a strange chink in my mental armor, like a grim reminder that I really didn’t know much about Phox at all.

Another deafening round of applause made me go as stiff as a corpse and my hand shot out, instinctually grabbing on to Phox’s. He squeezed back, his palm clammy as he stared straight ahead and forced a small, twitchy smile.

All I managed was a dorky little wave.

The announcer held up a hand, gathering the attention back to herself swiftly and pressing a finger to her perfectly painted pink lips. “But, my dear people, let’s not forget our past so quickly. Placing in an extremely close second are two figures we all know and love—The Faulbender Furies and now ten-time placers, Sienne Sol and Altai Regis!”

More applause. More screaming. On the other side of the crowd, Sienne and her alien partner stood straight and didn’t react whatsoever. Not a smile. Not a wave. Not even a blink.

It went on like that down the line—the announcer proclaiming the various teams until, at last, it was time for the first three to receive our official awards. One at a time, each of the top three placing teams were called up to stand on a raised red-glass platform that emerged from the floor. Third place first—which turned out to be a pair of enormous, brutish looking aliens with stony-gray skin and massive, whale-like heads. Then Sienne and her partner, Altai. Then us.

I wobbled dangerously the first few steps. Only my grip on Phox’s hand saved me from falling flat on my face as I stepped up into the platform at the very center. A crescendo of music blared through the atrium as a shower of silver confetti fell like snow over everyone. Beneath my feet, the platform broke away from the floor and began to float slowly upward, carrying us to the center of the room as the tiny spec-cams swarmed like curious bees.

My hands shook. I couldn’t feel my face, my legs—basically anything at all—except for Phox’s warm, strong hand gripping mine. That part was extra clear.

And it was the only thing that kept me from passing out cold.

40

OH, IT’S ON NOW

The rest of the event passed in an adrenaline and terror-garbled blur. We met group after group of adoring fans, who asked every invasive and inappropriate question imaginable. Had I known Sienne before the race? Were we interested in appearing on special-interview shows? Was I involved in any experimentation projects with Archilex? Were Phox and I romantically involved? Was I pleased with his sexual performance? Had we considered enrolling in any profitable, inter-species breeding programs to generate the next generation of racers?

Holy god. It was all I could do to keep from sprinting from the room screaming. At least I was marginally sure none of them would be able to catch me, right?

As the evening wound to a close, I took the first opportunity to bow out of yet another group of clamoring fans and speed-walk up the stairs and out the door. Phox followed close behind, his face still a disturbing shade of red after that last round of questioning.

“I’m, uh, I’m gonna go send word to Rout that we’re ready for transport back to the ship,” he grumbled quietly, avoiding my gaze and rubbing the back of his neck as he shuffled away. “Wait here.”

It was hard to look at him. Not just because of the questions, though. Touching and basically clinging to him all