5. Chapter 5
Chapter 5
We crash landed and are stranded.
Cold air surrounded me, sending a shiver down my spine. I hated the cold—drakcol were meant for warm weather. I forced my eyes open with a loud groan to assess the damage. Attempting to land while under attack with failing stabilizers and shields was probably not my smartest plan, but what else was I supposed to do?
The front screen of my shuttle was shattered; snow and rocks covered the console and the open section. We’d crashed hard, but I was alive. I hadn’t expected that.
I tried to stand, but my stomach spasmed, making my vision waver and whiting out my thoughts. My hand went to my gut and met wet warmth. A piece of metal was sticking out of me, and green blood oozed around the shaft, not fast enough to worry me, but it needed to be taken care of. And soon.
Alive, but injured.
“Barth…” I trailed off. What was his name? He was nowhere in my line of sight. Where was he? Was he alright? A whine ripped out of my lips when I tried to turn. I had to find him. The small human was mine to protect. I’d taken him, and in all honor, I couldn’t abandon him. Gritting my teeth, I shifted enough to see the entire cockpit.
The human was crumpled on his side, not moving.
“No.” I tried to drag myself to his still form. Please be alive . “No, please no.” Fiery agony lanced my stomach from my pathetic attempts to crawl in his direction. “Human. Bartholomew. Please. No. Open your eyes. Don’t leave me alone here. Please.”
He took a jagged breath, then coughed several times in quick succession before rolling toward me. His lenses were gone, and his brown eyes were unfocused. My position and the darkness didn’t allow me to see much—only the emergency lights were on—but he didn’t appear harmed.
I stretched a hand toward him. “Are you alright? Are you well? Fine?” Which was the right word? I couldn’t remember. Why didn’t I remember?
“No,” he said, sounding perfectly fine. “We crashed.”
I coughed, pain shredding my stomach as my abdominal muscles clenched. “We did,” I forced out, shivering.
Bartholomew appeared above me, and I stared at him. His skin was darker than Seth’s by a shade or two, but still so pinky-white, and his hair was black, though it was so short that it was barely visible. His thin lips were pulled into a frown and his long nose was perfectly straight, though swollen. Why was it swollen, and why did he have blood covering his lips?
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“No. I got stabbed. My ship tried to murder me,” I teased to make him laugh. I was fairly certain I’d pulled the joke off. I was very good at English.
He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, then yanked away. “Fuck.”
“That is quite sudden, and I’m too injured,” I said, shivering.
“You’re not funny,” he said blandly, pressing his pointer finger to his nostrils.
“Seth and Caleb think I am.”
“Good for them.” He disappeared across the cockpit, patting the debris.
“Careful.” He could cut himself on pieces of jagged metal or shards from the screen, and I didn’t like the idea of him being hurt more than he already was. I needed to check the cut on his arm, as well as find out why there was blood on his lips. Any injury could get infected.
Ignoring me, he asked, “Are they how you know English?”
“Seth and Caleb taught me, as well as Edith, but she’s not human. My youngest brother mated Seth first, then my other younger brother mated Caleb.”
“Hmm,” he said. “So they’re why I’m here.”
“How?”
“Some xoi abducted us because humans are a commodity.”
There was no way for Kalvoxrencol to have known that mating Seth would result in other humans being abducted. Also, they were soulmates; he’d had no choice once the Crystal revealed Seth, though my little brother would feel guilty. So would Seth.
“Found them.” Bartholomew held up his lenses, more cracked than before, and shoved them on. He returned to my side and bent to inspect the wound on my stomach. “Do you heal fast?”
“Faster than what?” I didn’t understand. People healed as they healed without treatment.
“Fast enough that this won’t kill you.”
“No.”
“So what do I do?”
“You’re going to help me?” I’d taken him without permission, crashed, and now, was injured and he was going to help me?
He scrubbed his shorn hair, and I wondered how it would feel under my scales. Was it pokey? Soft? Stars, I wanted to know. Would he let me touch it? Maybe. I shook my head. My thoughts were jumping about more than usual. Blood loss or shock was affecting me; I couldn’t say which or if either.
“We’re stuck here,” he said evenly. “If you die, I’m even more screwed than I currently am. I’m not going to cut off my nose to spite my face.”
I had no idea what “screwed” meant or why he would chop off his own nose—it was a perfectly lovely nose as far as noses went—but I understood he was helping me. I pointed to the back of the shuttle. “Can you check if the cabin is whole?”
Bartholomew struggled to his feet and disappeared from view. The moment he left my sight, I had an immediate urge to follow him or call him back. I didn’t like him being out of my range of vision. What if something happened? What if he hurt himself? What if he left and I was all alone?
“It’s fine,” he called. “Though it’s dark. I can’t see much.”
The emergency lighting must be failing. That was not good.
“There's a lantern you can take back there,” I said.
When Bartholomew returned, I gestured to a panel, telling him how to open it and how to turn the light on. After he’d finagled it open, he disappeared again, and once again, the same urge to call him back surfaced. My tail writhed and wiggled with agitation. He needed to stay within sight. That would fix everything. I was sure of it.
When he returned, I asked, “Can you help me to the cabin? I need to get out of the cold. So do you. You’re too small.”
He lifted an eyebrow.
“What?” He was. Bartholomew had nothing to keep him warm.
Without a word, he hooked his thin arms under my armpits and tried to drag me, but I barely shifted. I was too heavy, and he was too slight. This wasn’t going to work. Bartholomew would never be able to manage my weight. With no other option, I tried to force myself to my feet, but I shook and my vision twisted before whiting out with the ripping agony.
“I’m too…” I tried to think of a word, but I was panting and my brain refused to work.
“Big. Muscular. Much of an asshole?”
“The last one is a swear for a butt hole. Why would I be too much of one? Or are you saying mine is large? I do not understand.” My eyes closed as I shivered.
Something cool touched my cheek, and I opened my eyes. Bartholomew grabbed my chin, forcing me to look at him, and my soul throbbed. His brown eyes were flecked with bits of gold and green. They were a jungle I wanted to explore. Maybe then I would understand this calm human. And I wanted to. I wanted to understand him, to know him, and I couldn’t say why.
“Stay awake,” he ordered. “You dragged me here without my permission, and I need you to stay awake. I’m not doing this alone. Do you understand?”
“I do,” I replied thickly. Why did I enjoy looking at him? It was nice. But more than that, I liked him looking at me. But that made sense. I was attractive. It was reasonable that he’d stare at me.
He vanished, and I instantly called for him. “Bartholomew!”
“Calm down,” he said. “God, you’re excitable.”
Bartholomew returned with a blanket from the cabin. He tied it under my arms, then yanked with a grunt. My armpits immediately protested the abuse, and fiery-hot claws raked over my stomach, stealing a whimper from my lips, but I moved. He dragged and dragged, swearing under his breath, and I fought to stay conscious with the pain ripping me apart. He didn’t stop, not even to take a breath, until we were in the cabin.
I pointed at the button on the wall, shaking so violently I didn’t know if Bartholomew saw what I was gesturing to. He found it with ease and pushed it, but the door didn’t close—it didn’t even budge. That wasn’t good. We needed to conserve heat; an open space didn’t help with that. It was too cold for me, which meant it was far too cold for my small human.
My eyes closed, but the insistent fingers returned, and I forced myself to look at him.
“Don’t worry about it,” he said, stroking my cheek. “I’ll find a way to block it.” Bartholomew pulled the pad from the bed closer, then dragged me onto it. Panting, he untied the blanket and draped it over my legs. “Do you have a first-aid kit ?”
“A what?” I understood all of the words, but not what they meant together.
He frowned, and a divot appeared between his eyebrows. I wanted to kiss the mark away. Wait. What?
“Medicine?” Bartholomew asked. “I need to do something about the wound.”
I gestured to the panel on the wall.
He popped it and pulled out a metal container. “This?”
“Yes.”
When he settled next to me, I removed a laser surgical tool, claspers, injectors, and two vials. I knew how to treat small injuries; I’d been trained to do basic medical care. I had to be able to take care of myself in case one of my long-haul races went wrong. Some lasted over six months with no other shuttles, stations, or planets nearby.
I had no way of knowing if the piece of metal had nicked anything important, like my bowels or one of my organs. If it had, I would bleed out when we removed the shaft, but I couldn’t leave it in either.
“I’m going to need your help,” I said.
“Tell me what to do.”
I pulled out an injector and filled it with antibiotics, then another one with a blood inducer to help my body replace the blood I’d lost. “Press this into the side of my neck.”
Bartholomew took it from me and pressed it against my scales without hesitation. I grimaced when the needle stabbed me and the liquid burned going in. “Rub the site, please.”
His long fingers circled the puncture and kept up the even pressure until I said, “Next one on the other side, and do the same thing.”
He leaned over me, arm brushing my chest and pushed the injector against my scales. I winced. Bartholomew squeezed my hand, and I returned the pressure as I breathed and he massaged the injection site. The pain would vanish soon enough.
After a few moments, the burning dimmed, but I didn’t let him go. His hand in mine was nice. I had seen Kalvoxrencol and Zoltilvoxfyn hold their mates’ hands—it was a human thing. I slid my fingers through his, pressing our palms together.
What did it mean? Neither of my mate-brothers had exactly explained it, and I never cared to ask, as humans didn’t interest me in that way.
“Vince likes me to hold his hand when he’s in pain as well.”
I frowned, releasing him with a growl building in my chest. “I need you to pull the metal out.”
“That’s not a good idea.”
“Do it,” I snapped. Who was this Vince? Then I recalled the other human he’d mentioned. Why did he feel the need to talk about the other human right now? I was the one holding his hand. I was the one he was looking at.
“Fine. Die if you want.”
He yanked the shaft out mercilessly, and I was unable to suppress the yelp that escaped my lips. I grabbed the claspers and ripped out the broken scales near the gash, whimpering with each pull. Blood gushed out of the wound, non-stop. My fingers shook and my vision spun until I couldn’t see straight. I dropped the clasper, shaking.
“No,” Bartholomew said, grabbing my chin. My eyes opened. I hadn’t even realized I closed them. “What do I do?”
My fingers fumbled on the laser. He seized it from me and pushed the buttons until the tip glowed bright blue. I tried to point to the bleeding wound, but my vision was tunneling and my hearing was turning into static. Bartholomew slowly dragged the laser over the gash, and the mottled skin knitted together, making me cry from the intense burning.
I fought to stay awake for as long as possible, but the pain dragged me away.