CHAPTER FOUR
REL CROUCHED BESIDE the water-stained crate that stank like the takeout sharmish noodles he’d eaten last week. He pinched his nose closed and tried not to breathe. Keeping his fidgeting silent was a losing battle. Zeth better hurry his a*s back before the smell seeped into his coat. Rel liked this coat.
Taking a shallow breath, he peered around the edge of the crate. Light from Billings’ three moons lit the ground enough to see the shopfront was deliberately cast in shadow, wide awnings and super long plastic shutters. It gave all the appearance that nobody was home. He held his g*n steady, though his fingers were freezing. Huffing out a breath sent a curl of fog into his face and the split second of warmth made his nose drip. With his free hand still clenching his nostrils
