Chapter 70
CHAPTER SEVENTY
NORA
Nora paced every surface of the ship, urged on by a droning anxiety that everything was about to go to shit. She went from cell—there was no other way to describe the dozens of claustrophobic, unfurnished rooms—to cell, not knowing exactly what she was searching for.
Lucky chased her, and although his limp had greatly improved, he still favored his other legs. Poor thing hadn’t been given enough time to heal, ripped from his healing rest to be with her. He licked her fingers, as if he had read her thoughts and wanted to say he didn’t mind.
“That’s because you’re the best boy,” she said, scratching behind his ears. Purring, he flicked his tail under her nose.
Unsure whether the ship would acknowledge her, she looked up at the ceiling, at the disco-ball surveillance sensor. “Um…hello, ship? Can you tell me what time it is, please?”
She waited, feeling dumber as the silence dragged on.
Of course the ship wouldn’t talk to her.
She was just a human who didn’t belong here or know the right words.
Even if the ship could interpret English, would she understand the answers or the concept of alien time?
And judging by how Airik had broken Xallix’s translator, such devices were illegal.
There were no humans in this world to talk to.
At least she’d have Lucky, who, for some reason—probably a dark and horrifying one—understood her.
She touched her throat, wincing as her fingers brushed the small cuts left by Xallix. She had smiled at him, like a polite idiot.
You tried to fight. He was…too much. Why can’t you be gentler with yourself? Like Airik told you to be.
Airik.
Who had been her first true choice. Of course, she’d had no say in who would’ve found her, but she chose to want him.
It had been her decision to share her food with him back on his own ship.
She had seen the tremor in his hand after they’d gotten back to the ship, after the waves had nearly killed them.
How, even in his anger, he had left her a neatly folded shirt.
He wouldn’t have taken her food from her, she knew.
She had decided to stay with him when he’d nearly died after the bison-bear from hell attack, even after he had told her to go.
There was no guarantee he would survive if she stayed, but she’d gone into the water with him.
Although it hadn’t healed her of her fears, she felt like she had done something… great.
And it had been her choice to tell him about Theo, something she’d never done before. Airik had been the perfect person to tell. He had listened carefully and remembered everything. And now Theo would live in the mind of someone else she loved.
What else would Nora choose to share with Airik?
Maybe she could tell him about Theo’s favorite foods—applesauce and chicken nuggets.
If she were lucky, Vorakon would have something similar, so Airik would know it better.
And what would she discover about herself if given the chance and enough time?
Then the dread, thick and sticky, churned in her stomach: What if they were already out of time?
Her tongue burned as she gnawed on one of Airik’s teeth-cleaning sticks. The spicy flavor distracted her from the thoughts—he’s not coming back, you’ve lost him—screaming at her like static on a broken video feed.
She walked the single, circular corridor of the ship so many times that her ankle started to throb. Forced to stop, she sank into Airik’s chair, facing the ramp. His gun glowed faintly.
I love you more than the words I have.
Nora hugged Lucky’s tail to her chest, with what she absolutely knew was a goofy smile on her face. Despite what he’d said, Airik did, in fact, have enough words and knew exactly how to use them.
The skin on her throat itched again, and not wanting to go all the way to the back of the ship, she searched Airik’s bag for healing gel.
Instead of dumping everything as she usually did with her own belongings, she arranged them in a tidy row on the bench.
Nutritional packets. That small black bag with gold embroidery.
The cat pen that she wanted him to have. Tubes of healing gel.
She broke one open, rubbing the cool substance into her throat and a little onto her palm. Her breast still stung from Airik’s bite, but she didn’t treat it. She wanted it to scar. To last as long as possible, in case things—
A loud bang shook the ship. Lucky bounded away, landing on all fours in front of the sealed ramp.
After half a second of deliberation, she grabbed the gun and headed toward Lucky. His ears pointed forward, his fangs bared. She moved beside him, pressing her ear to the door.
The exit ramp squealed as it descended, but the door, which she had seen roll up into the ceiling, remained closed. She exhaled a small breath of relief—only Airik or Torren could open the door.
Despite that, Nora’s stomach sank at the sound of footsteps climbing the ramp. There seemed to be more than one person, and neither had Airik’s confident stride. It sounded too heavy and almost…lazy.
A pause. Lucky grunted, saliva dripping as his fangs lengthened.
Fuck, what if one of them is hurt? Her grip tightened on the gun. Hopefully it’s Torren—he can use the healing tubes.
Shame flooded her—how dare she wish him harm?
It took at least a minute for the malfunctioning ship to open, and all she could do was stand and wait, bracing her legs to keep from collapsing, hoping everyone was all right.
“Lucky,” she said.
He grunted in response.
“If it’s not Airik or Torren, I want you to go find them, okay? No hanging around to help—just go.”
Lucky whipped his tail in protest.
“You’re hurt, and I…” She glanced down at the charged gun, then wiped sweat from her brow. “I’m not totally helpless. Just go find them. This ship can break planets. I don’t think it’s a good idea for just anyone to be running around in it.”
The metal door swung open. Sunlight penetrated the darkened ship, and the overly sweet scent of flowers hit her with a jarring impact.
Her breath caught.
Two figures stood before her—both reasonably human in shape.
A small figure, maybe just a little taller than Nora, their eyes the only part visible beneath the cloak they wore.
Green, human eyes, with no glow. In fact, the eyes looked lifeless, barely held open, though they faltered at the sight of her.
And a man wearing a dirty cloth over his nose and mouth.
Tall—taller than even Torren. He held a sword, awkwardly extended in front of him, as if he were afraid of it.
A strip of cloth was tied to its handle.
A bow. The one Airik had made to say he was hers.
A pained moan escaped her as she stepped back once.
Lucky let out a whine but darted between the man’s legs as she’d ordered.
The man’s head whipped back, watching him, a streak of cosmic colors bolting across the city square until his tail vanished around a corner.
Nora fumbled with the panel, trying to close it.
The ship emitted a faint sound of denial, and the screen went blank.
The man raised a thick, dark eyebrow. He could not possibly have been human. His red eyes—faceted, like a cut ruby—dropped down to the gun in her shaking hands.
Nora pressed against the wall, raising the gun. He was of towering height—close to eight feet, a huge target that even she could hit.
But instead of firing, Nora froze, caught in the ill-timed thought that perhaps humanity was the failure among the six species she’d seen in the square.
Technologically behind, isolated, and, if Nora was any indication, lacking the drive to survive.
She worried more that she didn’t want to kill him, despite the fear coursing through her.
Unbothered, the man approached her, and in the next instant, he was suddenly much too close. He grabbed her wrist and slammed her hand against the wall. The gun dropped to the ground. He caught her other wrist, pulled both of them over her head, and held her in a one-handed grip.
Nora bit her tongue to keep from crying as the smaller figure staggered beside her and collapsed to the floor. The man trapped her but didn’t move closer or try to speak. His eyes narrowed as he looked her up and down, his head turning side to side as if deciding what to do with her.
Refusing to acknowledge him and with no hope of escape, Nora kept her eyes down on the person beside her as they struggled to sit upright.
Their sleeve slipped down as they raised their hands to their face, revealing bruised wrists and two shiny black cuffs.
Although the cuffs weren’t chained together, their left arm hung limply, as if tied to the other.
They coughed, a jerking hack that must have hurt.
One of the cuffs slipped back, exposing more of their wrist.
Nora’s mouth fell slack, disbelieving in what she saw.
The bound captive wore a bracelet with the letters m-a-m-a in beads strung around a pink braid.
A woman. Someone’s mother.
A human.
The man’s brows furrowed, his attention now on the restrained captive.
She stopped coughing, and he loosened his grip on Nora but didn’t fully let go.
He made a sympathetic frown, looking between her and the woman on the floor, as if he’d just scolded misbehaving puppies and hadn’t realized how stern he’d been.
With his free hand, he pulled the cloth off his face and muttered something under his breath that sounded like “Fuck” but couldn’t possibly have been because he wasn’t human.
Unable to blink or move, Nora had no choice but to take him in.
He had fangs—because of course he did. Though his were thin, like a snake’s.
His hair hung in a dark, thick braid draped over his shoulder—almost exactly like Nora’s, except for a shock of white at the front and the fact that his hair was straight.
His skin was tan, with a faint outline and shimmer of raised rectangular scales.