Page 3 of The Haunted Alien’s Mate

“Kelvane bioship.” Tambi scrolled. “The owner has had three crews walk off in a month. One left a full toolkit behind, and since we know what a decent toolkit costs, that tells you how bad things got.”

“Is the captain an asshole?” I asked.

“Not from my research,” Tambi said.

“So, it’s a cursed ship?” Doc downed another shot and gestured at Darius for more of the good stuff.

“It’s a something screwy ship.” Tambi tapped the screen. “He won’t put what’s wrong in writing, and says he’ll explain when we meet. The owner, Rennick Nogea, wants absolute discretion, so no questions or talk outside this table. Got it?”

I tipped her a salute. “Always. Especially when the credits are that OMG. I’ll tape my mouth shut and answer in blinks if it gets us that payday.”

The main door opened, and Monica Delgado came through like a hurricane, all hips, ass, and cleavage.

One of the Herren crew from two booths over stared after her, his gaze on her ass. And why not? She had an amazing fucking ass in those lycra pants she lived in.

He made a comment that had Monica turning in her biker boots. She sauntered over to him, whispered in his ear, then flicked him on the nose. He jerked back, but grinned, still not learning his lesson as he leered at her.

Monica dropped down beside Doc, grabbed the whipped cream can, and sprayed a mountain of it into her mouth. Her blonde undercut needed a trim, and her knuckles were skinned from the retrofit job that had almost killed her. She was still sweaty from her workout. All in all, a glorious sight that would make even Darius hard.

“Trouble?” Tambi stared at the Herren crew.

“Nah, he asked if I wanted to see his ship’s warp coil. Told him I’ve seen better coils on a toaster, and they were all bigger than he offered.” She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and grinned at him across the room until he had the decency to look away. “What’s the deal on the new job? The guy send through the final contract with a full lowdown, so Cass doesn’t blow herself apart?”

“You’re the high risker when it comes to messing with explosions,” I said. “You lost your hair and your eyebrows on that Eoan job.”

“Because they didn’t tell us about the dodgy repair they attempted themselves. Ass wipes.” Monica nudged me. “Great way to try a new hairstyle at no cost, though.”

“Other than almost losing your life!”

“The almost is the important word in that sentence.” Monica leaned against me. “So, the latest. Let’s hear it. How tough we talking?”

“That’s what I’ve been studying for the past hour,” Tambi said. “But I need more tequila to smooth the process.”

“Works for me. Does our ship have a name?” Monica asked.

Darius returned with our food and extra shots, and we spent the next five minutes chewing the delicious wings and chicken, shoveling in fries and greens, and downing the hot chocolate.

Tambi scrolled again after she’d wiped her fingers and inhaled her meal. “The Hollow Chorus.”

“Great.” Monica didn’t blink. “Love that. Very normal name for a ship. Doesn’t sound like it comes with a crew of space demons, at all.”

“That’s not a thing,” I said. “There are no demon demons, or space demons.”

“You don’t know that.” Doc snagged another wing. “Wait until you see one.”

“Never gonna happen,” I said.

“It will when you step on board a spooky-assed ship called the Hollow Crown.”

“Sounds romantasy to me,” Monica said.

“It’s not full of demons or smoldering fae who want to lock you in their castle and screw you every which way,” Tambi said. “And it’s called the Hollow Chorus, not Crown.”

“It’ll be a ship full of spooky singers, then. Legends of the Dead. You know, the kind that get those super high notes until their balls drop.” Monica waggled a fry in the air.

“Like the snowman guy!” I said.

Monica chuckled. “Just like him. Growling out we’re walking in the air doesn’t seem right when you sound like Eddie and his crew of grease monkeys.”