by A. G. Wilde
If he could understand what she said, he’d have asked her more about it.
He wasn’t great with conversation but he reckoned he wasn’t that bad at it. Surely.
That thought made him almost slap a hand against his forehead.
He was an idiot.
Reaching into one of his pockets, he pulled out a small square device.
It was an archaic language recorder and translator. He only used it when he had to go to the outer reaches where his translator implant might not pick up the language of whatever poor soul he had to…question.
The device took a few hours to work though, and he’d need her to speak.
He turned the thing on, noting from the corner of his eye that Nee-ya was watching him, then slipped the device back into his pocket.
It was recording now.
Long ago, he’d “altered” the device to serve his own purpose.
Every word she said, the device would compile into a language file.
It would parse the interstream for information, both the public and private streams, and find whatever language she spoke.
If Riv and Sohut had the language file for her, no doubt the main file was hiding somewhere on the interstream. He was sure of it.
After his device worked, then he could update his implant with the information.
She fanned herself again and that reminded him that she was burning up.
It wasn’t dry heat either.
It was humid down here.
“You’re burning up.”
She glanced at him and a soft smile spread her lips. She jerked her chin toward her chest.
“Iht iz hot downheer.”
The humidity coming from the engine room was going to be a problem and he was beginning to wonder if coming down there had been a good idea after all.
“Mai’nd iff ai trahy too kool down?” Her language was such a strange mixture of sounds…it was captivating.
Ka’Cit blinked. She was looking at him as if waiting on something. Maybe she’d asked him a question?
“I don’t understand what you just said but I agree with you.”
That garnered a small chuckle from her and Ka’Cit felt something warm inside of him.
As he watched her, she pulled her cloak down so it rested partway down her shoulders. Then, she brought the hem up and tucked it between her thighs, exposing the perfect dark skin of her legs.
The movement was so unexpected, he choked on his own breath.
Nee-ya glanced his way, her hands ready to pull down her cloak once more, and he fought to keep his face as neutral and unaffected as possible.
That was hard. But, if he wasn’t good at anything else, he was a master at blank faces.
When she didn’t pull the cloak back down, he allowed himself to relax a little.
She was overheating. She was only trying to cool herself down and a part of him wanted to tell her she could take the entire thing off, though he suspected that invitation would be misinterpreted.
He didn’t intend to creep her out, though he supposed he’d do that without even trying.
Still, he wanted her to feel comfortable.
They were going to be stuck in the nook for a while.
For the next few moments, she stole glances at him and when she realized he was watching her, she’d avert her gaze.
Maybe he was being impolite with the staring, but he’d rather look at her than at the drab gray walls.
She was far more interesting.
He could admit that he was curious about her. Her brown eyes were almost the same color as her skin. It was a rich hue, different from the other two humans he’d seen, but just as beautiful.
There was that hair that was like a cloud around her head, framing her face, and there was a little black dot in the middle of her cheek that moved whenever she spoke or smiled.
Phek. She was the most gorgeous thing he had ever seen in all his revolutions.
She was ta’ii from the first moment he’d seen her. A “sweet, flower” and that’s exactly what she looked like.
Delicate, small, and sweet.
She leaned back, closed her eyes, and her head tilted back a little.
She had a small nose, just as small but full lips, and her chin had a little indentation in the middle that made his mouth twitch at the corners.
Cute.
He almost choked on that thought.
The phek?
The last thing he’d called cute was a Taraxian slave master who’d begged for its life as his blade had flirted with its throat.
And it had been “cute” only because its pleas were the last words that left its lips.
His brow furrowed a bit as he watched Nee-ya.
But she was cute.
Cute but also so small and helpless.
Vulnerable.
Just how had she gotten away from Herza and triggered the lockdown? She must have been guarded. Herza was cheap and opportunistic, but she was no fool.
Nee-ya said something that he didn’t catch and Ka’Cit blinked.
He’d spoken out loud?
One look at his expression and she giggled—a sound that tickled his ears in a most unexpected way—and then she did a motion with her hand as if she was throwing something.
“Ai yoozed ah peb-broo.”
Ka’Cit frowned. He didn’t quite understand what she was trying to tell him.
She shook her head and settled back down.
“How?” he repeated. “How did you get away?”
She laughed a little again then shook her head once more.
Then it seemed as if she decided to tell him and she got up on her knees.
She looked at him pointedly and he assumed she was telling him to pay attention.
He couldn’t help but lean forward a little. This was…fascinating.
She began moving, her arms extended and grasping the air in front of her.
She moved on the spot in a circle as if she was enclosed. Her brows were knitted and she put an exaggerated look of trepidation on her face.
“You were locked up?”
She glanced his way and nodded ecstatically.
“Wow, yoo got it fursst trahy. Oh-kay. Koool.”
She then grabbed the hood of her cloak and put it over her head. Glancing at him, she wrinkled her nose and shook her head from side to side while mumbling words underneath her breath.
Ka’Cit chuckled. He couldn’t help it.
The Niftrills.
That had to be the Niftrills.
She glanced at him, her eyes holding a question.
“Niftrills?”
She nodded again and smiled.
He liked this game.
It seemed she liked it too but then her face changed and she glanced at him again, this time with a look he couldn’t read in her brown gaze.
She made a motion as if something was growing from her pelvis, then she stopped and frowned, glanced at him again, then shook her head.
“Uhm, neh-ver-mayned dat wohn”
Ka’Cit frowned as he watched her.
“What was that you just showed me?”
She shook her head again and waved her hand at him as if he should forget about it.
Ka’Cit’s humor died on his lips.
The corner of his eye twitched a little as he stared at her.
“Did they—”
Before he could finish his question, she shook her head but she wouldn’t meet his gaze.
A sigh made her shoulders rise and fall as she pointed to herself.
“You?”
She nodded then pointed to her shoe.
She had to crouch a little as she stood and hopped on one foot.
“You hurt your foot?”
She shook her head then wrinkled her nose.
There was a bulge in his pocket and she pointed at it.
It was another of the smoke canisters and he took it out and handed it to her.
Ka’Cit blinked as he watched her put t
he canister underneath her foot. She pointed at it and said “ow ow.”
He studied her for a moment.
“Something under your foot?”
Her eyes lit up and she jerked her chin.
Then she took the canister out and pretended to throw it.
He was a bit lost now, but all he could think about was what she’d shown him before.
He knew what she’d been trying to tell him before she changed her mind…
What she’d almost said…
“Did they…” His throat closed up. Had he been too late?
He hadn’t considered…
Phek.
“Did they force you?” The growl that came from his throat startled her, he could see. She jerked a bit and her gaze focused on his fangs, but it was too late to hold back his reaction.
Ka’Cit closed his eyes for a bit, forcing himself to look away from her.
“Did they force you?”
There was silence in the nook.
“Answer me.”
“Noh.”
That sounded like a negative answer. His gaze met hers again and he studied her.
Her body language said she wasn’t lying.
Ka’Cit stretched his neck a little and rolled his shoulders.
There was tension there.
If those Niftrills had…
Phek.
He hadn’t been planning to leave any bodies behind, but if they had forced her…
Well, let’s just say Herza would have more than cargo to dispose of.
Wiping a hand across his face, he shook the thoughts from his mind.
Nee-ya was fine.
She hadn’t been hurt.
She was okay.
“Yohr hahnnd.” She crawled on all fours and moved closer to him, a frown on her brow.
Without hesitating, she took his hand in hers and turned it over on her palm.
“Waht hahp-end? Yohr hahnd?”
Her gaze was studying his, and it was filled with such concern he was momentarily taken aback.
But he couldn’t understand what she was asking.
“Yohr hahnnd!” She pressed, jerking his hand in hers.
He looked down then and saw the bruises on his knuckles.
Oh.
That.
He didn’t remember receiving those.
“It’s nothing.”
She made a sound like air moving between her teeth and gave him an annoyed look.
“What?” What had he done?
She shook her head then and knelt beside him as she reached for the inside of her cloak.
Without warning, she brought the garment to her mouth and ripped a piece of it.
“What are you doing?”
His eyes were wide now as he watched her.
She placed his hand on her thigh as she ripped another piece of cloth and began pressing it against the bruise.
She was…patching him up? With her own garments?
“You don’t have to do that.”
She ignored him.
“It doesn’t hurt. I—”
She gave him such a sharp look that the words died on his lips.
As he watched her rip the fabric into a thin band, he became speechless.
He tried to pull his hand away, but he could admit it was a weak attempt because she promptly grabbed it, shot him a look that told him to stay still, and placed it on her leg again.
Ka’Cit fought to breathe past the lump forming in his throat.
She was tending to him. In this situation? Even when he was sure she was terrified to bits, worried out of her mind, she was taking the time to tend to him?
“Nee-ya…” he whispered almost inaudibly.
She was kneeling between his legs and he without his mask, he could scent her now.
It was a delicious sweet scent that gave him the image of running his tongue across her skin just to test if that’s what she tasted like—sweet like the way she smelled.
He swallowed hard as he watched her, not wanting to move…not willing this moment to end…but at the same time…too afraid to feel.
15
“Your hand was bleeding this entire time. I can’t believe you didn’t notice.” Nia frowned at him, then paused.
Shit.
Her gaze met his.
He’d carried her through the dark tunnel, tried to calm her down, all while his hand was swollen and bleeding.
Blinking, she averted her gaze and refocused on his hand.
Though the blood had mostly clotted, the swelling was dark against his blue skin. He’d hit his hand against something hard.
She knew it wasn’t an old injury too. It was fairly new.
“Don’t worry, I’m a nurse,” she said in the silence. Somehow, she felt the need to speak even though she knew he couldn’t understand her. “Well, I was a nurse, you know, back where I’m from…Earth…but not a proper one, I suppose. I only worked at the free clinic in my neighborhood—not in a hospital or anything. I wasn’t doing it as a job per se. I didn’t need the money.” She let out a small laugh. “Not that I was rich, or anything, but Dad was smart with money. He’d made it so that I wouldn’t have to work or depend on any man, ever. I was lucky. So after I left nursing school, I worked at the free clinic a few days a week. I did it because…well…the people needed help. Healthcare can be expensive if you don’t have insurance where I’m from.” She huffed another short laugh through her nose. “A good old bleeding heart like my father. He is like that too.”
She glanced at Ka’Cit..
He was watching her with that intense gaze of his again and she had to look away, otherwise she’d forget that she was staring.
She focused on tending to his hand. She only had the makeshift bandage; she couldn’t do much, but she hoped it would help.
“He went to Syria, you know. My dad. Some years ago. Fought there. He was lucky to return but when he came back, he’d…changed, you know.” She glanced at the alien again. He was listening to every word she said, as if he could understand her, and that thought was comforting. She hadn’t spoken to anyone about her life back on Earth. At least, not the intricate details.
Lauren and Cleo knew she’d been a nurse and that she’d done a lot of community work. That was about it.
Ka’Cit was silent so she assumed he didn’t mind her continuing.
“I remember when he came back. It was like looking into the eyes of a stranger. It took a while for him to…return, if you know what I mean. But when he did come back, mentally I mean, he started volunteering. Building houses in the neighborhood for free. Helping single mothers with their kids, like taking them to school and such. He did a carpool. And then, eventually, he started the after-school club. The kids loved him. They looked up to him. Wanted to be a soldier like him. So he taught them what he could. Like martial arts, discipline, and what it took to be a soldier. The boys looked up to him the most. It gave them something to do after school and their mothers knew they were safe. And it gave my dad some purpose again. I think…I think after Syria he realized just how short life was. He saw his friends die. He wanted it to matter more.”
Nia cleared her throat and shook her head. God, why was she ranting? She didn’t even tell the animals on the Sanctuary about her past and they could listen to her for ages.
A blush warmed her cheeks as she looked up at him.
Those green eyes of his felt like they could strip her bare.
“I’m almost done. Not much I can really do down here without supplies. You’re just lucky it doesn’t seem to be infected.”
He made a sound in his throat.
Then he opened his mouth as if to say something then closed it.
“What? Tell me, what were you going to say? I can understand you, remember?”
He opened his mouth again then stopped.
He didn’t even wince when she began wrapping the wound. Her cloak had an inside layer and she was using that part. It was the cleanest bit she could find.
> “I guess you’re wondering what did this to my hand…” His words brought her head up.
“Well…yea…but you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”
He seemed to be trying to determine what she’d just said.
“Yes,” she nodded, “tell me.”
He understood the nod, she realized, because he began speaking. “Some poor Niftrill got in my way when I jumped down through the hatch.”
Nia paused and looked at him, her eyes narrowing slightly. So, that’s how he got into the ship? He’d snuck on board.
“Phekking Niftrill was going to talk. I had no choice but to quiet him.”
Nia shook her head, a smile finding its way to her lips.
“I really didn’t,” he said. His voice held not one ounce of regret.
That made her chuckle.
Something told her that a part of him had enjoyed beating up the henchman and after what they’d been planning to do to her, she couldn’t find it in her heart to feel sorry for the Niftrill.
“Tough phekker though. Was like hitting rock.”
The way he said it, the utter nonchalance in his voice, made her stifle another chuckle.
“Happy my pain gives you such pleasure.”
Her gaze darted to his. “No. I—”
But there was a twinkle in his eye and she found herself hiding her smile.
She was done now anyway. Securing the last bit of her makeshift bandage, she started moving back to her spot when the ship suddenly lurched.
If she wasn’t so low on the ground already, she’d have stumbled and fallen, but the effect of the movement caused her to fall awkwardly against him.
There was another loud sound in the engines and her body stiffened.
It was a stark reminder that she was far from safety.
For a moment there with him, she’d forgotten where she was.
The ship lurched again and the rhythmic clanking in the background slowly died.
“What…what’s happening?”
Ka’Cit cursed under his breath and checked the huge band on his wrist.
“Phek,” was all he said as she scrambled off him and he sat upright.
“What? What is it?”
“Herza just killed the engines.”
She stared at him, alarm making her heart beat hard in her chest.
What the hell did that mean? Had they arrived at wherever the ship was going?
“She’s cheaper than I thought…” His gaze met hers.