Brant: Science Fiction Romance (Enigma Series Book 11)

by Ditter Kellen

  “No problem. Keep us informed on what you decide to do.”

  With a short nod, Carmen spun around and hurried from the room without a backward glance.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Syrina glanced toward the door that Carmen had disappeared through. Truth be told, she wanted to run out right behind her. Watching Carmen approach Brant, intending on running her hand down into the pocket of his pants, had sparked a foreign feeling of jealousy inside Syrina—a feeling she hadn’t been prepared for.

  “Are you okay?”

  Brant’s softly spoken question brought her up short.

  She wasn’t about to let him know of her unwanted emotions. She fidgeted with her hands and shut down her mind for fear he would sense her insecurities. “Are you hungry?”

  “Hungrier than I’ve ever been in my life.” He softly laughed. “You wouldn’t happen to have a candy bar on you, would you?”

  Relieved he hadn’t noticed her plight, Syrina grinned back. “I do not know what a candy bar is, but I can certainly get you something to eat.”

  Abbie picked that moment to re-enter the room, carrying a tray of food in one hand and a drink in the other. “Did I hear someone say something about food?”

  “I could eat the ass end of a billy goat,” Brant responded, gritting his teeth as he attempted to push himself up higher on his pillows.

  Syrina forced her feet to remain still when everything inside her screamed to put her arms around him and take away his discomfort. Instead, she blurted, “There is that word ass again.”

  Abbie chuckled and set the tray on a side table. “You don’t need to strain your ribs. Your bed is electric.”

  She picked up a small cream-colored box, pressed a button on the front, and glanced at Syrina. “He hasn’t explained what ass means?” The head of his bed slowly began to lift.

  Syrina was mesmerized by the contraption Abbie held. If there was one thing she appreciated about the humans, it was their wonderous inventions. “He has not. And he uses the word quite often.”

  Abbie placed the tray of food on Brant’s lap. “If that’s the worst he says, he’s doing good. Uncle Tony curses like a sailor. No matter who is around.”

  Brant met Syrina’s gaze, a twinkle of humor in his attractive eyes. And they were attractive. Everything about him was, she silently admitted, unable to look away.

  “The word ass has many meanings,” Brant began, picking up his fork. “Some good and some bad. For instance, a donkey is considered an ass, yet so is the human rear end.”

  “Buttocks are referred to as ass?” Syrina was thoroughly intrigued by this strange three-letter word.

  Brant’s lips twitched again. “They are. But ass is mostly used in slang as something altogether not good. Like, instead of saying, I feel bad, one would say, I feel like ass, or instead of, he is bad, you would say, he is an ass. Understand?”

  “I believe so.” She flicked her gaze to Abbie, noticing the other woman fighting a laugh. “I will think more on it later after I have had my bath.”

  Syrina turned toward the door, glancing back at Brant as she departed. He’d explained that ass was slang for bad, which made no sense, but she decided to use it. “You should consider a bath yourself when you are able, Mr. Henagar. You smell awfully ass.”

  Brant’s and Abbie Sutherland’s laughter followed her into the hall, coaxing a smile to her lips. It felt good to hear Brant laugh. It meant he was alive and on the mend. And for some reason, that mattered to her more than she cared to admit.

  * * * *

  Syrina arrived at the bath house to find Fiona frolicking in the pool.

  She smiled when she spotted Syrina. “Hey you. How are you feeling?”

  Removing her sharkskin vest and shorts, Syrina grabbed a clean towel from a shelf in the wall and laid it next to her discarded clothes. “I am fine. I was just with your brother.”

  Syrina stepped into the pool and swam out to the smaller female. “He is awake and doing better.”

  Relief shone in Fiona’s eyes. “He’s been sleeping every time I visit him. I’ll go see him as soon as I’m done here.”

  Syrina picked up the cake of delicious-smelling soap. “How do you fare?”

  “You really have to learn some slang,” Fiona muttered with a grin. “But to answer your question, I’m fine.”

  “Brant has taught me a little of the human slang. I am very ass at it, though.”

  Fiona’s laughter filled the bath house. “You certainly are.”

  Unsure of Fiona’s meaning, Syrina shrugged. “The land walker’s slang is very confusing. I am not sure that I will ever become used to it.”

  “You’ll get the hang of it now that you’re mated to my brother.”

  Syrina’s mouth dropped open. “Brant and I are not mated. Nor will we ever be!”

  A twinkle remained in Fiona’s eyes. “Whatever you say.”

  “Your brother and I are simply connected by circumstance, Fiona. Nothing more.”

  Obviously, Fiona didn’t believe her, if her expression were any indication, but she didn’t press the issue. “Gryke mentioned something about Brant having information for Carmen. What was that all about?”

  Syrina began to soap up her hair. “The female who helped us escape back in Cuba claims to be Carmen’s sister. I am not certain that Brant believed her, but he agreed to deliver a message to Carmen for her.”

  “That doesn’t make sense.” Fiona moved to sit on the bench along the side of the pool. “First of all, Carmen is an only child, and secondly, a girl claiming to be her sister just happened to help you escape? Seems rather fishy to me.”

  Syrina shrugged. “She told us that she worked for the Cuban doctor that took my blood. She also mentioned that is where she learned of Carmen and her association with the Bracadytes.”

  Fiona studied her for several heartbeats. “The blood this doctor took, he’s still in possession of it?”

  “Trescina caused a fire that burned the lab we were kept in. The blood that was taken from me has been destroyed.”

  “I’m still not sure what to think about this Trescina person,” Fiona muttered. “Her claiming to be Carmen’s sister, starting a fire in that lab, and helping you escape just seems a bit too coincidental to me.”

  Syrina understood Fiona’s apprehension. She’d felt the same way since meeting the beautiful dark-haired human. Something hadn’t felt quite right about the entire scenario. “I am not certain what her motives were for doing what she did. I only know that Brant and I would not be alive today if not for her actions.”

  Fiona’s gaze softened. “I know. And I’m so grateful for that. But Carmen is beside herself over all this. She’s trying to convince Zyen to take her into Destin so she can contact this girl. If this is all a trap, God knows what will come of it. I mean, what if Kerik’s son is behind all this? Carmen could very well lead him right to us.”

  “I have had similar thoughts,” Syrina admitted. “Perhaps we should speak with Carmen and Zyen about our concerns.”

  “That might not be a bad idea. I’m about to go see my brother. I’ll mention it to him as well.”

  Syrina watched her friend climb from the pool and snatch up a towel that rested next to her clothes. “Tell me about Melinda.”

  Fiona glanced up from her task of drying off. “How do you know about Melinda? Brant never talks about her. He hasn’t mentioned her name since her funeral five years ago.”

  Fascinated by that bit of information, Syrina softly admitted, “I saw her through his memories.”

  Fiona held Syrina’s gaze for a moment and then looked away to pull on her clothes and boots. “I’m surprised he allowed you into his head. He’s the most private person I know.”

  “He did not invite me in, that is for certain. I stumbled upon his memories by mistake. Please forget that I mentioned it.”

  Fiona paused for a moment and then finished lacing up her boots. “Thank you again for what you did for my brother. I can never
repay you for saving his life, but I’ll do everything in my power to try.”

  Discomfited by Fiona’s praise, Syrina waved off her words. “You owe me nothing, my friend. Besides, if not for Brant, I would not be alive today.”

  A soft smile touched Fiona’s lips. She turned toward the door, whispering over her shoulder as she went, “Brant couldn’t have picked a better mate if he’d tried.”

  “I am not his mate!” Syrina called out, only to be met by Fiona’s laughter.

  “Sure you’re not.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  The sound of footsteps in the hall snapped Brant’s eyes open. Was Syrina coming back to see him?

  If he were being honest with himself, he hoped it was Syrina returning to pick up where they left off earlier.

  She’d almost kissed him. Whether it had been a conscious decision on her part or involuntary mattered not. Brant had wanted that kiss to happen. He wanted it still.

  “You’re awake,” Fiona announced, striding into the clinic. “How are you feeling?”

  He shook off his unwanted thoughts and met his sister’s worried gaze. “I’m much better, thanks.”

  “You look better. You’re getting color back in your face. Have you eaten?”

  Brant nodded. “Abbie just removed my tray.” He lifted an arm. “And she’s feeding me fluids through an IV.”

  Fiona moved closer to the bed, her gaze touching on all the medical equipment surrounding him. “I saw Syrina in the bath house.”

  He kept his expression blank for fear his sister would notice the interest in his eyes at the mention of the Arkadian’s name.

  What was happening to him? Was it Syrina’s blood flowing through his veins triggering his sudden interest in her or something else altogether? “Yeah, she was just here about twenty minutes ago.”

  Fiona bent to fidget with the sheet on his bed, a nervous habit she’d had since childhood when something was on her mind. “You two seem to be growing close.”

  Brant watched her without blinking. “If you have something on your mind, just say it.”

  “Oh, it’s nothing.” She cleared her throat. “I mean, I know you shared blood, and I—”

  “We didn’t share blood,” Brant interjected. “Her blood was given to me by the doctor in our Cuban prison. We’re connected, that’s it. She hasn’t taken my blood, and we haven’t had sex.”

  “Jesus, Brant. Blunt much?”

  Brant laughed. “I’m sorry, but it was the only way to get you to relax. Stop fidgeting and say what’s on your mind.”

  “Okay.” Though her lips twitched at his words, her eyes remained serious. “I was just wondering about the direction of your relationship with Syrina. You haven’t dated anyone since Melinda…”

  Pain sliced through Brant’s heart at the mention of Melinda. “I don’t want to talk about her.”

  “You have to at some point, Brant. It’s been years. You can’t go through the rest of your life carrying this guilt—this regret. Melinda’s death was not your fault.”

  “Let it go, Fiona.”

  Her hands paused in their task of straightening his sheet. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. When Syrina asked me about her, I guess it sort of ripped the Band-Aid off.”

  That brought Brant up short. “Syrina asked you about Melinda?”

  “Yes. A few minutes ago, in the bath house.”

  Brant wasn’t sure what to make of that. Why would Syrina bring up Melinda? It made no sense to him.

  “She cares about you,” Fiona softly murmured as if reading Brant’s thoughts.

  “I admit we formed a bond back in Cuba, Fiona. But nothing more. Trust me on that. I have no room in my life for a mate, and Syrina despises anything human.”

  Fiona raised an eyebrow. “Really? She doesn’t despise me, nor does she dislike Andrew. In fact, I’d go so far as to say she loves him.”

  “He’s a child,” Brant argued. “What’s not to love?”

  “What about me, brother? I’m not a child. And the only reason she would ask me about Melinda is because she cares about you also.”

  Brant pushed himself up higher on his pillows. “You’re wrong about that.” But was she? he wondered, envisioning Syrina’s near kiss from earlier. “Like I said, there’s nothing between us but a bond built from survival.”

  Abbie stepped back in the room with Zaureth in tow.

  The huge Bracadyte stopped near the foot of the bed, his pale green eyes full of compassion. “May I approach?”

  Brant’s lips twitched. “You are far too polite for someone of your size and power. Of course you may approach.”

  Fiona touched Brant on the hand. “I’m going to go make Andrew’s dinner. I’ll be back later to check on you.”

  “Bring him with you when you come back. I’d love to see him.”

  She nodded to Brant, sent Zaureth a smile, and left the room.

  Zaureth stepped up close to Brant’s side. “Your body is healing at a rapid rate. You should be back to your full potential in a couple of days. In the meantime, I have come to help you with your pain.”

  Brant didn’t move as Zaureth pulled down the sheet that covered him, lifted the hem of Brant’s shirt, and placed his big palms over the binding around Brant’s ribs.

  Warm, powerful energy pulsed to life from the Bracadyte’s hands. It shot through Brant’s side, taking with it the brunt of the burning pain he’d been experiencing since waking.

  Relief was instant, along with an enormous amount of gratitude. “Thank you, Zaureth.”

  Zaureth removed his hands and straightened. “You are most welcome.”

  “If there is ever anything I can do for you,” Brant rushed out, “you only need to ask.”

  The healer shook his head. “I do not expect payment for helping those in need.”

  “Then don’t think of it as payment. Consider it a gift, something I would be honored to do.”

  After shaking his head once more, Zaureth turned as if to go, but then stopped suddenly and slowly pivoted back toward Brant. “Actually, there is something.”

  “Name it. Anything. And it’s yours.”

  Zaureth appeared almost embarrassed. “It will soon be the human holiday of Christmas. My mate talks about it often. I have looked inside her heart and seen how important this celebration is to her. I would like to design a room for Amy to read in. I have already had Abbie pick up some books written in braille. A nice library to place them in would be much appreciated.”

  Brant sent him a warm smile. “Consider it done.”

  “Many thanks.” Zaureth disappeared without another word.

  “That was really nice of you,” Abbie announced, appearing at Brant’s bedside. “Amy will love it.”

  Brant opened his mouth to respond, but a strange feeling overtook him.

  “Are you all right?”

  “Yeah. I just had an odd sensation—”

  The feeling came again, cutting off the rest of his words. “I have to go.”

  “That’s not a good idea,” Abbie argued, placing a hand over his wrist when he moved to pull out his IV.

  Brant firmly but gently disengaged his arm from her hold. “I’m sorry, Dr. Sutherland. I have to.”

  Abbie blew out a frustrated breath, rounded the bed, and reached for his IV site. “Fine. If you insist on getting up, at least let me do this.”

  Brant waited patiently for Abbie to remove his IV and heart monitor, all the while searching for the source of the sensation he’d felt.

  It came again, stronger this time. Syrina.

  Once free of his confinement, Brant threw his legs over the side of the bed and stood.

  A wave of dizziness assailed him, but he breathed his way through it, grateful for the fact that the pain in his ribs was now bearable. He silently thanked Zaureth once again.

  Abbie rushed to his side. “At least let me call someone to come help you.”

  “I’m fine, Dr. Sutherland. Really…I am.”
<
br />   Though she nodded her understanding, she kept her arm looped through his as he stepped into his boots and made his way to the door.

  A low growl pulled him up short. He stopped next to Abbie and looked up into the glittering green gaze of her mate, Hauke.

  Abbie’s free hand immediately went to her hip. She faced her husband as if she herself were a seven-foot Bracadyte. “I know that growl wasn’t directed at me?”

  Hauke kept his gaze pinned on Brant. “Remove your touch from my mate.”

  Brant glanced down at Abbie’s arm looped through his own. He opened his mouth to point out that she actually had her hand on him and not the other way around, but she beat him to the punch.

  “He’s not touching me, Hauke. I’m holding on to him since he’s standing for the first time since his ribs were broken. I’m a healer, my mate. I have to touch people. Even those of the opposite sex. You know this.”

  Hauke’s gaze shifted to his mate and his expression instantly softened. “I am aware. It does not mean that I have to like it. I cannot help my jealousy where you are concerned. I am a Bracadyte to my core.”

  Abbie carefully released her hold on Brant’s arm and reached for her mate’s hand. “Step aside so the man can pass.”

  Appearing somewhat apologetic, Hauke nodded to Brant and moved into the clinic, taking his mate with him.

  Brant inwardly cringed as he made his way down the hall to his room. He was more than grateful he didn’t possess that same possessive insanity Hauke had just displayed. And Hauke’s display of jealousy wasn’t an isolated incident either.

  Brant had witnessed some sort of jealousy in nearly every mated Bracadyte in Aukrabah.

  The sound of Syrina’s voice reached Brant’s ears as he neared his apartment. He slowed his steps, stopping outside her room.

  Her entrance curtain was down, which in Aukrabah usually meant, Do not disturb.

  And then a male voice echoed from inside her room, drawing Brant ever closer.

  Why would Syrina have a man in her apartment?

  A powerful emotion suddenly settled inside Brant’s chest. He staggered back a step, caught off guard by the sensation.