Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 119846 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 599(@200wpm)___ 479(@250wpm)___ 399(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 119846 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 599(@200wpm)___ 479(@250wpm)___ 399(@300wpm)
Noelle picked at it, trying to find a piece of food she could tolerate. Across the room, Cookie stood at the stove, frying something on a massive flat griddle. The scent that wafted over made her stomach tighten—it smelled like bacon. Real bacon. Salty, crispy, and delicious.
Her mouth watered.
“Whatever’s he’s making smells way better than what we got,” she remarked under her breath.
“You’re right about that,” Bright agreed, making a face at his mostly-full plate.
“Hey, what are you making?” Burn shouted at the chef.
“Breakfast for old Thune,” Cookie grunted. “Don’t even ask—you can’t have any of his special meat. If the three of you are finished eating, you’d best get to your chores.”
“What chores are those? The Trollox—uh, Thune—never told us exactly what to do,” Bright said.
Cookie turned, pointing one thick finger at Burn.
“You—wash the shuttle. Clean inside it too—old Thune makes a mess and you’ll need to clean it all up if you want to keep him happy. You…” He pointed to Bright “Go over his books. He left them out on the desk in his study. You’d better be a damn good accountant—his finances are always a snarl. And you, missy—” Here he jabbed a finger at Noelle “Need to clean his bedroom and make his bed. Be sure you do a good job and throw any bones you find in the special can here in the kitchen.”
He pointed to a huge barrel in the far corner, sealed with a rusty metal lid.
“I use ‘em to make soup,” he added, as though that was perfectly normal.
Then he stomped off, muttering about babysitting brats and how it wasn’t his job to look after them.
The three of them exchanged a long, uneasy look before climbing down from their chairs but there didn’t seem to be much they could do except follow orders.
“Okay,” Burn said. “I’m headed for the shuttle bay. I might get lucky and find the key in there somewhere—you two be ready to go if I come for you.”
“Got it,” Bright nodded.
“You and I need to keep an eye out for anything we can use against Thune,” the Light Twin added to Noelle. “And I’d still like to know what happened to our predecessors. So keep your eyes open for any clues.”
“You got it.” She nodded, heart thudding. “Um… I wonder where Thune’s bedroom is?”
“I’ll come with you to find it,” Bright offered.
“I’m coming too,” Burn growled. “The shuttle can wait.”
They didn’t say it aloud, but Noelle knew the truth—they didn’t want her alone anywhere near the monstrous Trollox.
Fortunately, Thune was nowhere to be found when they located his bedroom—a huge, dim space at the very back of the sprawling house. The ceilings were twice as high as any normal room and the bed large enough to sleep ten normal sized men. The air was thick with the scent of old sweat and something metallic. Trash littered the floor—the three-headed Trollox was a slob, Noelle thought with disgust.
“I wonder where he is right now?” she murmured, after Burn went in and made sure the room and adjoining bathroom were empty.
“Maybe he’s already eating First Meal,” Bright said quietly.
“Whatever he’s doing, if he comes in here while you’re working, you get out or hide,” Burn growled.
“I will,” Noelle whispered. She didn’t like the idea of being alone with the troll-monster either. “I don’t like splitting up like this,” she admitted.
“I know, sweetheart. But Burn and I are attuned to you now,” Bright said.
“Hell, we’ve been attuned since that night we spent on the Skow prison ship,” Burn added.
“What does that mean, though?” she asked, frowning.
“It means that if you’re in trouble, we’ll know. Just shout for us and we’ll both come running,” Bright promised.
He gathered her into a warm, tight hug and Burn joined in, enveloping her from behind so she was sandwiched between them, their big bodies pressing protectively to hers.
“If you need us, we’ll be there,” Bright murmured in her ear, and Burn rumbled his agreement against her back.
Finally, reluctantly, the hug broke.
“Let’s find that key so we can get the fuck out of here!” Burn said.
And the three of them turned to their separate tasks, even as Noelle’s heart whispered that they were stronger together—and their time was running out.
50
BURN
The air inside the docking bay hit him like a punch to the gut.
Hot, greasy, metallic—the place smelled like engine oil, unwashed alien funk, and the faint scorched stench of fried electronics. Burn wrinkled his nose and blew out a breath through flared nostrils.
Gods, what a fucking pit.
The docking enclosure was massive—cavernous enough to hold the kind of shuttle that only a narcissistic, three-headed monstrosity would commission. Grayish-blue metal beams arched overhead like the ribs of a dead beast. Panels of dented sheeting lined the curved ceiling, some blinking with embedded green or amber lights. A handful of high, square windows filtered in dusty beams of yellow light, illuminating the alien clutter that filled the room.