‘Yes we have,’ Carson suddenly announced, his voice a reassuring, strong rumble.
Nida immediately turned to face him.
He shot her a look that told her to shut up. ‘We got here as soon as we could,’ Carson continued.
The woman clapped her hands together and looked at Carson with clear adulation brightening her cheeks. ‘Thank you so much,’ she said slowly. ‘If you hadn't come along, that thing . . . would have killed me.’
For the first time, Nida turned around and glanced through the thick foliage around her. She had no idea where that hairy, fiendish creature had landed, but by the sounds of it, it had been far off. Still, here and there she could see flecks of black fur that must have fallen from it during the flight. Even those wiry strands were enough to make her shiver.
Carson glanced at her, probably checking to see that she wasn't about to fall over and die, then he shot her a very pointed look that he obviously intended to convey some grand scheme. Clearing his throat, he faced the woman again. He nodded low at her. ‘We are here to help.’
The woman still had her hands clasped together, and now she cast an absolutely radiant smile upon Carson.
With a quick glance his way, Nida confirmed he was blushing, somewhere under all of those fake blue spots anyway.
Which was kind of funny when she paused to think about it. This was Carson Blake—the greatest hero of the Academy. A man who was used to saving people, aliens, planets, and dogs too probably.
So why was he blushing?
Surely all of this stuff would be old hat to him?
The woman kept smiling, and even though flickers of anguish crossed fast over her expression as she leaned on her right leg, she didn’t stop beaming at Carson.
After a while, he actually reached a hand behind him and patted down his hair, looking thoroughly awkward as he did.
But it didn’t last. With a heavy breath that pushed his chest out hard against his leather vest, his expression hardened, and that by-now-familiar determination ignited deep in his eyes. ‘Can you take us into the city?’ he asked suddenly. ‘To meet up with the rest of the resistance?’
The woman nodded, the move so vigorous, she could have strained her neck. ‘Of course. Of course,’ she repeated even more emphatically. ‘They’ll be so thrilled that you’ve arrived!’
Carson nodded. ‘We can’t stay here. When can we leave? Are there going to be more vargs?’ He quickly added as he glanced warily over his shoulder.
The woman shook her head, her shoulders crumpling in as she did. In a small voice she whispered, ‘one is usually enough.’
Nida desperately wanted to ask the woman what the heck a varg was and why it had been chasing her, but she knew she couldn’t. Not only had Carson firmly taken the reigns of this particular conversation, but it would likely show Nida’s ignorance. For all she knew, vargs could be as common-place on this planet as grass was on Earth.
She had to be very careful what she gave away. So for now that meant smiling dully and keeping her burning questions to herself.
‘I’ll take you now. The resistance has a cell living in the underground tunnels to the east of the Central District,’ the woman spoke quickly, pointing over her shoulder as she did.
‘Let’s go,’ Carson said immediately. ‘But first, what do we call you?’
‘Harya,’ the woman placed a hand on her chest and bowed low. ‘And what do I call you?’ she asked as she straightened. Her smile still blazed, and as she turned it on Carson again, Nida could swear his cheeks flushed.
Again.
‘I’m Carak and that’s Nara,’ Carson pointed to Nida. ‘And we are here to help,’ he added, as if for good measure.
Harya clapped her hands together and pressed her fingers into her mouth, smiling around them. ‘Thank the gods for you, Carak and Nara. If you hadn’t come along, the varg would have finished its job.’ She briefly looked down at her leg. But the sight of her slowly oozing injury did not dampen her cheer. ‘Please follow me; I must take you to the resistance at once.’
‘Hold on, you’re injured,’ Carson gestured to the deep gash above her right knee.
‘I will be fine,’ Harya said bravely.
‘Sure you will,’ Carson noted skeptically as he knelt down and picked up Nida’s shawl. It had fallen on the ground when the varg had attacked her. Dusting it off in his hands, he walked up to Harya and handed it to her. ‘Tie it around the wound. Are you familiar with the herbs of this area? Do you know if there are any natural salves around?’
‘Herbs?’ Harya asked, blinking quite prettily. ‘Salve?’
‘Never mind. Just tie your wound off.’ Carson nodded at her, taking several steps back as he did.
Nida could tell he wanted to lean down and take care of Harya’s injury himself. The way he frowned at the woman as she inexpertly wrapped the shawl around her bleeding knee confirmed that fact. But something held him back. He had already mentioned that this province was oppressively chauvinistic. Perhaps seeing to an injured woman would get you a whipping. Or worse—perhaps it would get her one.
As soon as Nida turned to follow, Carson stopped her. With a quick step to her side, he brought his face close by her left shoulder and whispered, ‘don’t turn your back to her; you’re injured.’
Nida wanted to protest that she wasn’t, yet as soon as Carson suggested it, she started to become aware of a horrible tingle escaping over her back. Rushing between her shoulder and the base of her spine, her skin smarted.
She could also feel a worrying wet sensation.
Carson still stood resolutely by her side, and he flashed Harya a reassuring smile as she tied off her bandage.
‘That’s the way; make it as tight as you can, but not so tight that you will fall over,’ he cautioned.
As Carson distracted Harya, Nida reached up behind her and felt her back. She quickly realized the fabric of her top was torn. Worse than that, as she surreptitiously brought her hand around and stared at her fingers, she could see the red blood painted across them.
She clenched her teeth together and drew a whistling breath between them.
Carson shot her a quick look. ‘Just keep your back to her; I’ll do the rest,’ he promised. As he did, he was sure to stare directly into her eyes.
. . . .
He did that a lot, didn’t he? Staring right at her, as if for those few brief moments nothing else existed in the entire universe.
Despite the uncomfortable ache crawling across her shoulders and down her spine, she was suddenly only aware of how Carson’s direct gaze made her feel.
Soon enough Harya finished tying off her bandage, and she got to her feet, tucking her loose white hair behind her ears and smiling again at Carson. Though the woman was not human and rather belonged to this strange planet, Nida still felt she understood the emotion flashing in Harya’s gaze.
And just for a moment it seemed to mirror her own.
Suddenly Nida shook her head. What was she thinking? She had just been attacked by some great brute of an alien creature, and her back felt as though it had been slashed to shreds. Yet here she was, wondering whether she should harbor jealousy at Harya’s clear interest in Carson.
Bringing her hands in front of her, Harya clasped them neatly, then nodded. It was a long and drawn out move, and it was directed Carson’s way.
Despite the fact Carson was still obviously alarmed at Nida’s injury, his cheeks still became a touch pink, and once again he patted his hair down, even though there wasn’t much to neaten. ‘Okay,’ he mumbled quickly. ‘Now, if you think you can walk, we need to get to the city,’ his tone hardened, and any embarrassment disappeared in a blink.
And that, there, summed Carson Blake up perfectly. Despite how embarrassed or put off he could seem, he was only ever a blink away from returning to the diligent, trained, and ever capable lieutenant.
Once again Nida’s stomach kicked with nerves, yet once again it had nothing to do with the pain biting its way in
to her back.
‘How long will it take us to get to the resistance?’ Carson now questioned, his brow furrowing low over his eyes, the shadows over his cheeks drawing dark and long.
She knew what he was thinking; they couldn’t afford to be out here in this forest much longer. Yet neither could they afford to embark on a long and circuitous journey to wherever this so-called resistance was based. Their entire mission wasn’t just time sensitive; it was time dependent. Nida and Carson had no idea when or if the entity would corrupt again, yet it seemed clear that the longer they spent in this time period, the more likely it would be to occur.
Stiffening as she realized how serious this was, Nida was sure to always keep her face directed towards Harya, and her back well and truly out of sight.
‘I can walk,’ Harya concluded after she experimentally put weight on her leg. Then, for the first time, she appeared to look past Carson, and locked her gaze on Nida instead. ‘But how about you? That varg had you pinned to the ground. Are you injured?’
‘She’s fine,’ Carson answered before Nida could do or say anything. ‘And we need to get going. But first, I’m just going to go and check that the varg really is down,’ he said through a low growl. ‘You wait here, Harya.’ Then he nodded at Nida. ‘I’ll need your help,’ he said pointedly.
She understood. He intended to lead her off into the forest to see to her injuries.
If Harya thought it suspicious, she did not let on. Instead, she kept her hands cupped before herself, nodding low once more. ‘Of course. I will wait here.’
‘We will be quick,’ Carson promised. With that, he made a move as if he intended to grab Nida’s hand. Then he stopped, his fingers frozen a few bare centimeters from her wrist, as realization quickly caught up with him.
Reversing direction and choosing to rap his knuckles on his thigh instead, he shot her a nervous look and quickly turned around and headed into the forest.
They walked in silence until Carson appeared satisfied they had travelled far enough from Harya. Then he stopped, turned around, closed his eyes, puffed his cheeks out, and gave an enormous, rattling sigh. ‘That was close,’ he admitted, winking one eye open.
She nodded.
She promptly winced. Stumbling forward slightly as she tried to reach a hand around behind her to clutch at her injury, she let out a swear word. ‘I didn’t even know that varg had cut me. Is it bad?’ She asked, practically spinning around in a circle as she tried to touch that impossible-to-reach spot just below her shoulder line.
Despite the situation, Carson managed a chuckle. It was low, it was light, and it didn’t last, but at least it was there. They were back in time, fighting desperately to return the entity to its home, and Nida was injured, yet Carson could still muster a moment of mirth.
And that meant something.
To her, anyway. Because it saw a small smile spread her lips. ‘What?’ she asked eventually.
‘You really are the worst recruit in 1000 years,’ he conceded. His tone was not bitter and neither did it have the sharp reprimand she was used to hearing from the other officers back at the Academy. No, it was gentle, and tantalizingly friendly.
She let her arms drop by her sides, and she shot him a withering look, not that she could hold it for long. Her cheeks, almost of their own accord, fattened, and pulled up her lips until she practically beamed at him with as much enthusiasm and captivated attention as Harya had held only several minutes before.
There was just something about Carson Blake, Nida suddenly realized. Something she had never encountered in another man, human nor alien. And something the stories and legends about him had failed to underscore.
He was enchantingly real. Though he did seem capable of the incredible, on occasion, more often than not, his face was contorted in embarrassment rather than confidence.
‘Why are you . . . smiling at me like that?’ he asked, sounding uncharacteristically nervous.
‘Oh, nothing,’ she conceded quickly, swallowing her smile as she told herself to stop thinking about Carson and to start thinking about the deadly situation they had wandered into.
‘Right . . .’ he trailed off. Then he swallowed, loudly.
Again things quickly became awkward between them, and they remained that way until Nida groaned as a stab of pain travelled sharply down her spine. Clutching a hand to her shoulder, she buckled forward, but didn’t fall.
‘Right,’ Carson said again, this time firmly and confidently as he took a step forward. Maneuvering behind her, she heard him hiss sharply. ‘That must hurt.’
She nodded stiffly. ‘How bad is it?’
‘Three large cuts, running from your left shoulder down to your waist,’ he noted, taking a step forward and lightly touching the middle of her back.
Despite the fact she was expecting it, she still jerked with shock. It wasn’t because his lightly prying fingers hurt her; it was just . . . she didn’t know.
‘It’s okay,’ he assured her quickly. ‘I don’t think any of them will need stitches,’ he mumbled as she heard him take the scanner from his pocket. There was a soft hum and click as he used it to survey her injury. ‘Right,’ he said after a long pause, ‘this is good. There are a couple of plants close by that we will be able to use as salves, and they have anti-septic qualities too.’
‘Great,’ she managed, ‘we should hurry though. I don’t know how long Harya is going to wait there patiently on her own. Plus, we have no idea who is after her and why they sent that . . . enormous monster to hunt her down.’ The term enormous monster wasn’t exactly descriptive when it came to alien biology, but at least it was accurate.
‘You don’t have to tell me that, Cadet,’ Carson mumbled distractedly as he walked past her, selected several small green and purple plants, then proceeded to crush them to a pulp between his fingertips. ‘But we don’t have an option. We have to get into the city, and she’s promised us a way in,’ Carson said, replying to a question Nida had never asked.
‘Don’t you think it’s a little dangerous?’ Nida shot him a questioning look as he walked over to her left, leaned down, and selected several brightly colored plants.
He looked up at her from underneath his eyebrows, his gaze sharp and questioning. ‘Of course I think it’s dangerous. But like I said, we don’t have another choice. We have to get into the city,’ his voice broke with emotion, but with a swallow, his tone flattened out as he continued, ‘and this resistance sounds like it’s going to give us what we need. All we have to do is use them to get past the city limits, then we can continue with our original plan.’
Though there were many things that Nida wanted to say, she drew silent. If she pointed out any more of her misgivings, she knew Carson would likely point out she was nothing but a cadet, and that she was obligated to leave the planning and decisions to him.
Before she could get angry at him however, his shoulders deflated as he gave a sharp and heavy sigh. ‘I’m sorry. I get that you’re worried.’ He looked up into her eyes, and his gaze shifted and flickered about as genuine concern travelled through it. ‘So am I. But this situation is moving too quickly. I’m just trying to keep up. Now take your top off,’ he mumbled distractedly as he stared down at his scanner, his brows knitting with worry.
She spluttered. Of course she did. Carson Blake had just told her to disrobe.
He looked up sharply. ‘So I can get at your injury,’ he clarified in a high-pitched voice.
She nodded and stood there looking sheepishly at her feet.
Could this get any more awkward?’
She shouldn’t have asked that.
Because of course it could get more awkward.
‘I . . . you . . .’ he began, clearly incapable of stringing together a coherent sentence as the situation became exceedingly and uncomfortably weird.
‘Right . . . I will just,’ she squeaked, turning from him and fumbling with her top.
She wanted to say she could put those herbs on her injury wit
hout his help, but it was a clear lie. She couldn’t reach the slashes gouged into her skin, not without dislocating a shoulder.
So, her skin as red-hot as molten lava, she kept her back to him, she undid a section of her bodice, and she pulled up the white top.
Locking her arms protectively over her front, she sank her teeth deep into her lips. So deep, in fact, she soon tasted a tinge of blood.
Why did she have to make everything so embarrassing between them? Of course Carson didn’t want her to take her top off because he was interested. Not only would that be a very crude way to signal his desires, it would be blatantly inappropriate considering the situation and their current surroundings. Also, who was she kidding? Carson Blake liked the Bridgets of the world, not people like her. Not the worst recruit in 1000 years.
Closing her eyes and wincing through her embarrassment, she tried not to flinch as she felt Carson’s warm fingertips pushing into her back. Suddenly she was no longer aware of the pain her injuries gave her, only the feel of his hand as he smeared those crushed up herbs over her skin.
Though the herbs were cold, and as soon as they came in contact with her blood sent pins and needles escaping through her muscles, she didn’t flinch.
Carson had one hand anchored on her left shoulder as he worked. The large palm lay flat against her bone, his thumb and fingers pressed gently into the gap between her clavicle.
It was . . . distracting, to say the least. So distracting, in fact, she lost all track of time.
Clearing his throat, Carson took several steps back. After likely taking several seconds to appraise her injury, he said, ‘all right, that should do.’
Almost immediately she pulled down her top, the move so quick, she could have ripped the fabric further.
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