Mid-Flinx Read Free Page A

called Jack-Jax, whose presence had so thoroughly and effortlessly intimidated the entire dining establishment, sauntered around the table until he was blocking the view. His piercing jet-black eyes bordered on the remarkable. The emotions Flinx sensed behind them were uncontrolled, unformed, and immature. Outwardly he was the soul of calm, but internally the man seethed and boiled like a sealed pot on a high flame. Only Flinx knew how close to the proverbial edge his visitor was treading.
    Unable to ignore that intense stare, he raised his own gaze to meet it. “Yes?” he ventured politely.
    The response was as cordial as it was superficial. “That’s a very, very interesting pet you have there.”
    “Thanks. So I’ve been told.”
    “I’m Jack-Jax Landsdowne Coerlis.” A little emotional pop accompanied each name.
    It was an innocuous enough salutation. “Lynx,” Flinx replied pleasantly. “Philip Lynx.” He didn’t offer a hand. Neither did Coerlis.
    Lips didn’t so much smile as tighten. “You don’t know who I am, do you?”
    “Sure I do. You’re Jack-Jax Landsdowne Coerlis. You just told me so.”
    “That’s not what I mean.” Impatience bubbled beneath the other’s impassive visage. “It doesn’t really matter.”
    Knowing he should leave it alone and, as was too often the case, unable to do so, Flinx nodded tersely in the direction of the kitchen. “Girlfriend?”
    “After a fashion.” The lips thinned like flatworms. “I have a lot of girlfriends. It’s a matter of timing.”
    “You didn’t seem to be getting along too well.”
    “A minor disagreement easily resolved. I’m good at resolving things.”
    “Lucky you. I wish I could say the same.”
    This semicomplimentary rejoinder caused Coerlis to mellow slightly. His attention shifted back to the snake shape relaxing on the table.
    “Absolutely gorgeous. Really magnificent. It’s an Alaspinian miniature dragon, isn’t it? Warm-blooded, toxic reptiloid?”
    Flinx displayed surprise, deliberately flattering the other. “You’re very knowledgeable. It’s not a well-known species and we’re a long ways from Alaspin.”
    “Exotics are a hobby of mine, especially the resplendent ones. I have a private zoo.” Flinx looked appropriately impressed and was rewarded with something akin to a genuine smile of satisfaction. “I collect all kinds of beautiful things. Animals, sculptures, kinetics.” Coerlis jerked a thumb in the direction of the kitchen. “Women.”
    “It must be nice to be able to indulge in such a diversity of interests.” Despite the cordial banter, Flinx was very much aware that Jack-Jax Coerlis was an emotional bomb waiting to go off. For one thing, beneath the underlying tension and anger a vast sorrow lingered, turgid and repressed, which bordered on despair.
    Curious patrons kept sneaking looks in their direction, frantic to ignore the confrontation but unable to wholly rein in their curiosity.
    “How much?” Coerlis said abruptly.
    “How much what?”
    “How much did she cost you?” He indicated the flying snake.
    “Nothing.” Reaching out, Flinx gently rubbed Pip on the back of her head. The minidrag couldn’t purr. Beyond an occasional expressive hiss, she made hardly any noise at all. Instead her eyes closed contentedly and a small but powerful warmth emanated from within her pleasure center.
    “I found her. Or rather, she found me.”
    “Then that should make my offer all the more inviting. What do you say to fifty credits?” When no response was forthcoming, Coerlis added, as if the actual amount was a matter of supreme indifference to him, “How about a hundred? Two hundred?” He was smiling, but internally the first stirrings of irritation were beginning to surface.
    Flinx withdrew his finger. “She’s not for sale. At any price.”
    Coerlis’s emotions were as easy to read as if he’d presented them to Flinx in the form of a printed hardcopy. “Three hundred.”
    A flicker of