by Lea Kirk
“It must be pretty serious.”
Gryf suppressed a sigh and opened his eyes. Alexandra squatted in front of him, her expression sympathetic. If only she knew the extent of the problem and how grim and far reaching the consequences were, not just for him, but also his people.
“Far more dire than you could know.” He tipped his head to one side. “How old are you?”
She blinked at him as though the question had caught her off guard. “Um, twenty-two. How old are you?”
No shortage of mettle with this one. “I am thirty Terr cycles.”
“A thirty-year-old senior captain of a decimated space fleet, and a twenty-two-year-old survivor of mass genocide. And somehow I’m too young to understand, huh?”
“I did not say so.”
“You didn’t have to.”
He raised his brows. She had a valid point. How had he not guessed this spirit was in her when she’d planted her fist in his eye? In retrospect, that had merely been the cone of the comet. The tail promised a wondrous, colorful spectrum, and he wanted to see that spectrum.
“Are you always this direct?” He should not engage her; it was too risky. But neither could he bring himself to cease.
Alexandra compressed her lips, then shook her head. “No,” she admitted. “Only when my planet is invaded, or my life feels out of control, or….” She stopped and looked down at her clasped hands.
“Or, what?” Perhaps the more he knew about her, the easier it would be to protect her. You are an incredible fool, Helyg.
Her gaze met his, and there it was. The answer to his question clouded her eyes, but she needed to say it out loud. She would find strength in her admission.
“Or when I’m scared.” Her voice wavered.
He gave her a slow nod. “Would it surprise you to know that I am scared too?”
She regarded him with an intense look, then shook her head again. “No. I don’t think so. At least, not much. You have more reason than anyone to be scared. You carry not only the weight of your worries, but also the worries of the rest of us. And I don’t mean just those of us in this cell with you.”
So she understood that the rest of the Atlantis’s crew was imprisoned in the cells around them. It was shameful that he had underestimated her. “I stand corrected. You are uncommonly astute for twenty-two years.” He offered his hand, palm up in invitation. “Squatting is not comfortable long-term. Will you sit with me?”
“Only if I’m not intruding.”
“Too late.” He gave her a half-smile.
She made a small scoffing sound and placed her hand in his, warm and soft. An effervescent tingle traveled along his arm to his shoulder, and his heart rate increased. Alexandra sat cross-legged facing him, her brown-bronze eyes wide. Had she felt it too?
“I do worry about the rest of my crew, and pray constantly for their safety.” There was no reason to admit this to her other than he wanted her to know. “Talking with you would take my mind off these worries for a short while.”
Her eyebrows rose. “Okay. What do you want to talk about?”
“Tell me about your life, before the attack. I would very much like to hear about Terr...Earth...as it was. And learn more about your customs and way of life.”
~ * ~
Alex gave Gryf a crooked grin. “A lot of our customs are pretty different.”
Gryf chuckled. “Learning has been entertaining, has it not?”
“I’d love for you to teach me more.”
Their gazes locked and Gryf’s smile wavered, his eyes turning a darker shade of blue. Heat suffused her body, and her mouth went dry. Ooh. Way to put your foot in your mouth again, Alex. “About your customs, I mean. All of them. Okay, maybe not all, but….”
Oh god, there was no saving this conversation. Super Glue. That’s what she needed to clamp her lips together so the wrong words wouldn’t keep falling out.
Of course, gluing her lips together would make kissing him difficult.
Oh. My. God. Where did that come from? Shut up, shut up, shut up!
“My apologies,” Gryf murmured. He appeared as discombobulated as her. “I did not…it was not…I….”
Gryf’s gaze held hers. She couldn’t look away from those sapphire depths if she tried. And she wasn’t going to try.
He cleared his throat. “I put you in an uncomfortable position with my response to your comment, and I apologize. There is...you...I have never….” Gryf plowed his hand through his hair with a frustrated growl.
This wasn’t the self-assured fleet captain she knew, rather a man trying to sort out his own jumbled emotions.
He dropped his hands into his lap. “Matir means Mother, so-named for the Holy Mother of our race. Our women, we hold in the highest esteem. It is a sin for a man to force himself on a woman. Any woman.”
“Wait. Do you think you just forced yourself on me?” The look on his face plainly said that was exactly what he thought. How had she missed that one? “But Gryf, you didn’t.”
“Perhaps I did not use force,” he replied. “However, my actions made you uncomfortable.”
“Maybe a little, but only because….” He’d made her examine her own feelings. Yikes. That’s not something she should say. Not yet anyway. Maybe never. “No. I’m not the least bit offended by your actions. Given how gross I feel, and how bad I must smell, I’m actually flattered.” Wow. That sounded half-way intelligent.
His gaze roamed over her face, then he shook his head. “There are dangers in this, Alexandra. Mostly for you. It was not an accident that you and the others were placed in this cell with me. We are being watched, even now.”
“You mean there are cameras in here?” Her eyes automatically scanned the featureless wall behind him.
“If a camera is a form of surveillance, then yes. If what I suspect is true, Kotas has bought himself a cushion of time with the Anferthians, and they are allowing him free reign to exercise his revenge for my slights against him, in exchange for I know not what. However, I believe his grudge goes beyond just me, and he plans to hand over the Defense Fleet to them. The result would be catastrophic for Matir.”
Her belly made a queasy roll. “Are...are you sure?”
“That the Anferthians are using Kotas as much as he is using them? That Matir faces the same fate as Terr? Yes, I am sure.”
Alex straightened her spine and frowned. How was it that every time she thought things had gotten as bad as they possibly could, they got worse? “Um, would you excuse me? I need to go….” She pointed in the general direction of Dennis.
“Of course.” Gryf’s responding smile reassured her that he understood. “I will keep my crew apart so you may converse with your people.”
~ * ~
Alex cast a glance toward the Matirans congregated in the opposite corner. True to his word, Gryf had gathered his crew there, giving the Earthlings as much privacy as possible. But some of the Matirans must have a hunch what the topic of discussion was.
“Are you serious?” Simone asked, her voice one notch above a whisper.
Alex turned her attention back to the tight circle of Earthlings. “Gryf is.”
“This isn’t just about Earth anymore, is it?”
“Not by a long shot,” Dennis murmured.
Alex pursed her lips. “I think we’re in deeper shit—don’t ever repeat that word, Juan—than any of us realized. Yeah, Earth is occupied by a hostile race. But now the only other race that might care enough to help is at risk of the same fate. At least with the Matirans around, we stand a chance. But if they lose everything to the Anferthians, we’re all screwed.”
“Royally,” Nicky agreed.
“We can talk to Cap’n Gryf. He’d know what to do,” Juan piped up.
How do you tell a six-year-old that you don’t completely trust someone he idolizes?
Dennis pinned Alex with an expectant gaze. “Maybe it’s time to do that.”
She cast a glance over her shoulder at Gryf. Maybe it was.
~ * ~
Gryf could not stop the wide smile he gave Alexandra. “We welcome the partnership and trust of your people, Alexandra. I am correct to assume that you are their representative?”
“Umm….” Alexandra threw an uncertain look at Nick and Simone. Ah, so she did not know that her own people already looked to her to lead.
“She speaks for all of us,” Simone said with a definite nod. Alexandra clutched her hands together in front of her, but did not argue.
Life in this prison seemed less daunting, as if he had something to look forward to. Like more open and frequent conversations with Alexandra. It was a blade with two edges, and he would have to tread with care or Kotas might become more suspicious than he likely already was.
Chapter Seven
Alex leaned against the wall worrying her lower lip between her teeth. Day ten had arrived. The tension in the cell was as thick as the walls that stood between them and freedom. She and Dante had done their best, and Dennis had taken a short walk this morning, unassisted. He was improving, but would it be enough?
“Relax, Alex,” Dante murmured.
“Easier said than done.”
Dennis’s beefy hand covered hers. “Don’t worry. I’ll be ready to run when we find a way to escape.”
She met his gaze and gave him a smile. His positive attitude, and active participation in his own recovery, made him the best patient she’d ever worked with.
Gryf climbed to his feet and extended his hand. “Come, Alexandra. Walk with me.”
That must be code for “I’m distracting you before you drive everyone nuts”. No point in arguing that, though. She took Gryf’s hand, and he pulled her up. He set their pace at a slow stroll as they circumnavigated the cell. When they reached their corner, he turned to face her, halting their progress.
“Your service to Dennis has been invaluable, Alexandra. Thank you.”
A flutter of butterflies took up residence in her stomach as heat rushed into her cheeks. “You’re welcome. It’s been an amazing experience, and I’m glad I’ve been able to help.”
“How much…?” The cell door whooshed and ice crystalized in her veins, chilling her body and soul.
Gryf jerked his head up. Two armed Anferthians took up positions at either side of the door. He flicked his hand in a circular motion and hissed, “Custii.”
Before she could blink, the other Matirans had moved to stand with their Terrian counterparts. Nicky, thankfully, stood with Graig. The commander may be a pain, but he’d do everything possible to protect her brother.
Gryf moved to shield her from their view. “Alexandra, please do nothing to attract attention,” he murmured.
No problem there. But she couldn’t resist a peek over his shoulder. Kotas strode purposefully between his Anferthian escorts, followed by a third armed guard, who stopped in the doorway.
Gryf stood with his arms relaxed at his sides, a sharp contrast to the snapping tension in the air. Alex met Dennis’s wide eyes from across the cell.
“Capeto.” Kotas’s calculating brown eyes fixed Gryf with a spiteful glare, then he turned away. “Were you able to heal him, Dacian?”
“Dennis is able to walk.” The icy contempt in Dante’s voice could have frozen a lava flow.
“Ah.” Kotas gazed down at Dennis. It was amazing that Dennis didn’t flinch away from the Matiran traitor. She’d be freaking out in his position.
“Get up and walk, creature.” Kotas’s words dripped with contempt.
Dennis nodded, then rolled onto his hip and levered himself off the floor. Alex squeezed her fists together under her chin. Come on, Dennis. He took one step with his good foot, then his bad foot. On his fourth step he collapsed to his knee. Damn. Karise moved to help him back to his feet.
“Leave him,” Kotas snapped at her, then looked at Dante. “I gave you ten days, Healer.”
“He is able to walk a few steps now. In a few days he will be walking without a limp, I assure you. All I need is time, Vyn.” Dante replied. How did he keep his voice so calm?
Kotas took a slow step back, and Alex caught her lower lip between her teeth. Would he give them those crucial days? Please, please, please.
“Time is up.” Kotas’s weapon appeared in his hand in a blur. It made a faint sound when he pulled the trigger. Dennis grunted, his face registering shocked surprise. Then his eyes glazed and he slumped forward, blood seeping from the hole in his temple.
“No!” Alex’s cry mingled with sounds of dismay from the others. Dennis’s body toppled sideways, his eyes staring and vacant.
“You son-of-a-bitch.” Alex stepped around Gryf. At the same moment Dante roared, “Dolonos!”
Gryf grabbed her arms and hauled her against his chest, his eyes flashed with warning. “Think of the living,” he hissed.
But she had to kill Kotas. Rip his throat out for murdering Dennis. She pulled back, trying to free herself from Gryf’s iron grip.
“Do you need my help to see reason?” he asked.
She froze. Did he mean using his Gift? She glanced toward Dante. The healer had closed the gap between himself and Kotas in three long strides. Angry words in a language she couldn’t understand flowed from his mouth.
Kotas leveled his weapon at Dante’s chest, responding in the same language. At six foot three, the healer was a good four inches taller than Kotas, and the traitor had every reason to be intimidated. But if they lost Dante….
“No, I don’t.” Her words gagged her. “But Dante might.”
“Will you stay put?” Gryf’s grip tightened a fraction.
She looked into his eyes. “Yes.”
Gryf released her and moved toward the two men. “Stand down, Dacian!”
“That would be wise.” Kotas’s voice was cool.
“He could have been healed,” Dante ground out, his teeth clamped together hard.
“Will you be able to heal yourself from a point blank telum shot, Chief?” Gryf asked. “Stand. Down. Now.”
The healer’s expression changed from rage to reason in a blink. Alex frowned. Very weird. Dante took a stiff step back from the traitor. Even though he seemed in control, his fists were still clenched. Kotas did not lower his weapon as he eased back a few steps, putting himself out of Gryf’s reach. Alex narrowed her eyes. He’s afraid of Gryf.
“It would seem I have solved a serious problem for you, Helyg. No thanks are necessary,” Kotas gloated.
“None are given.” Gryf’s voice was as tight as the set of his shoulders.
“No?” Kotas smirked. “Pity.”
The murdering scumbag turned and walked out of the cell as if nothing had happened. His Anferthian escort followed him, leaving morbid silence in their wake.
~ * ~
Hunger gnawed at Alex. No dinner had come that evening. Whether it was because Kotas had ordered it, or the Anferthians were retaliating against the prisoners for having to clean the bloody mess, was anyone’s guess. They hadn’t done a thorough job of it either. She cast a glance at the thin smears of Dennis’s blood on the floor where he’d fallen. God, give him peace.
Damn, her heart hurt—no, burned. Kotas had so much to answer for, and she hoped she was there at his moment of reckoning. She let her eyes drift around the cell. Simone and Juan were asleep. It was the first time any of the Earthlings other than Dennis had gone to Dante for help sleeping. Dante too had retired to get a little rest before he relieved Graig from watch.
Karise sat where Dennis had lain for the last week and a half of his life. Her thumb and first two fingers rested on the bridge of her nose, praying for her fallen cellmate, no doubt.
Nicky’s warm hand closed over Alex’s. He didn’t say anything; he didn’t need to. He was here for her, and she for him. God willing, that would never change.
She let out a soft sigh and leaned her head against her brother’s shoulder. Gryf sat directly across the cell, head back against the wall and his eyes closed. Was it her imagination, or was his skin
several shades paler than normal? Must be the dimmed lighting. She furrowed her brow and frowned. No, it wasn’t the lighting; he was flushed and haggard. The dark circles under his eyes appeared more pronounced.
“He doesn’t look so hot, Alex,” Nicky whispered next to her ear.
“I noticed.” She pursed her lips. “And Dante’s asleep.”
“Then it’s up to you to find out what’s going on, isn’t it, Nurse Bock?”
A tremor went through her hands. Was it? She wouldn’t mind caring for him, but she wasn’t his doctor, or a member of his crew. She was just a Terrian nurse with no special Gift. Unless…. She cast a glance to her left. Graig sat against the adjacent wall. His usual impenetrable mask had slipped, and his concerned eyes returned to Gryf with steady frequency.
So, he saw it too. And he was both Gifted and a crew member.
“Gag me,” she whispered to Nicky and pushed herself upright.
Her brother gave her a mystified look. “What?”
“I have to swallow my damn pride and ask Commander Not a Chauvinist for help.” She made a small choking noise.
Nicky scrunched his eyes closed, his shoulders shaking with silent mirth.
Alex pushed herself to her feet. “Yeah, well you just stay here, Chuckles, and I’ll take care of everything.”
“I have faith in you, Sis,” Nicky choked out.
“Thanks.” Twerp.
She started across the cell toward her intended patient. Half way across, she shot a pointed look at Graig and jerked her chin in Gryf’s direction. Graig sprang to his feet, and they arrived on either side of Gryf together.
Gryf opened his eyes, their sapphire depths bright with fever. “I...had wondered...if you….” His lips barely moved as his words tapered off, and he closed his eyes again.
Pushing damp tendrils of white hair up, Alex lay her hand on his forehead. This was not good. He was hot by Earth standards, and more so by Matiran, but by how much?
She met Graig’s concerned gaze. “Any idea what the temperature difference is between our races?”
“Terrians, 37, Matirans, 34.”
So the Matirans used a system akin to Earth’s metric system. She could work with that. “He’s about a 39 or 40 now. Way too hot.”