Chapter 5 #2
He’d had a year to adjust to the cybernetic arm thus far, and over that time he’d developed a new admiration and respect for Arcanthus—who’d had to wear similar prosthetics on both arms and legs for better than a decade.
“Was out searching when I caught a hint of her scent,” Drakkal said. “Tried following it, but the air was too saturated with other smells to get a clear trail. As I was walking, I passed a female handing out flyers for some show. She grabbed my arm to get me to stop…and it was her.”
“You walked right past your mate?” Arc’s tone was light with amusement.
“She had a hood on, and like I said, it was hard filtering her scent through everything else.”
“Fortunately, she grabbed you.”
One of Arcanthus’s displays changed. Drakkal recognized the gold and teal seal of the Eternal Guard in the upper left corner.
The Eternal Guard maintained a massive network of surveillance devices throughout Arthos, though many areas of the Undercity were only lightly covered—and there was almost no Eternal Guard surveillance in the Bowels, which lay below the Undercity.
“We didn’t recognize each other until I turned around. Then she took off running. I chased her through the crowd but lost her in the tram station.” Drakkal inhaled deeply. “At one point, I almost had her. Almost grabbed hold.”
“Is this the street?” Arcanthus asked.
Drakkal leaned closer to study the still image Arcanthus had brought up on the main holo screen. “That’s it. Think she was around Burik’s Meat Emporium.”
With a few flicks of his fingers, Arcanthus opened three more holographic displays, each showing Orcus Street from a different angle. He manipulated the feeds until all were focused on the street in front of Burik’s Meat Emporium.
“There,” Drakkal said, heart skipping a beat. He leaned closer still and extended an arm to point out the small, hooded figure with an armful of flyers.
Arcanthus adjusted the display to zoom in on the terran and scrubbed through the feeds simultaneously. The crowd around her moved at an accelerated speed; Arcanthus didn’t slow the recording until a broad-shouldered figure with an armored cybernetic arm came into view.
“So, she doesn’t even come up to your neck, but she outran you?” Arcanthus asked.
“Just keep going,” Drakkal said distractedly. His attention was held by the image on screen—the terran’s hand on his arm. He wished it had been for a good reason, wished it had been because she wanted to see him, touch him, and share his company.
Startlingly, Arcanthus complied without comment.
Drakkal’s heartbeat quickened as he watched the chase.
He was so focused upon her and the way she moved that he barely noticed himself plowing through the crowd behind her.
He’d not seen faces or people on that street—only obstacles between himself and his mate.
But all his strength and speed hadn’t been enough.
He’d drawn close to her, but never close enough.
The angle shifted as Arcanthus jumped to different camera positions, following the terran’s progress down the street.
Drakkal curled his fingers into a fist as the recording showed the terran jump atop the staircase divider leading into the tram station, tightening his grip further as the display showed his fingertips brush across her hood.
Just a few more centimeters would’ve been enough.
The recording continued, following the terran down the sloped divider.
Drakkal narrowed his eyes as the terran plunged into the crowd—leaving the tralix she’d bumped into with a parting slap on the backside.
Drakkal clenched his teeth, and a deep, involuntary growl rose from his chest. Heat spread outward from his core, renewing his agitation.
He could find that tralix, could find him and—
The terran slipped into the tram and vanished from the images.
Arcanthus switched the main display to a feed from inside the tram car.
Drakkal frantically searched the crowd on the screen, breath growing ragged, but he couldn’t see her, just like when he’d been there in person, and he was going to lose her again.
Vrek’osh, what’s wrong with me?
“The other side,” he said, voice hoarse and tongue dry. “She went out the other side of the tram.”
Arcanthus changed the main feed again to display the outside of the tram from the opposite side of the station. Just as the tram’s doors began to close, the terran darted out of the car. She turned back as Drakkal appeared on the other side of the doors’ view windows.
“Oh, Drakkal,” Arcanthus sighed, shaking his head.
The tram pulled out of the station.
“Keep following her,” Drakkal said, bracing one hand on Arc’s chair and the other on the desk as he leaned his face closer to the screen, closer to the image of his mate.
“Drakkal, I don’t think—”
“Keep following her!” Drakkal snarled. Arcanthus’s chair creaked and groaned within Drakkal’s tightening grasp. “I need to know where she went. Where she is now.”
With a heavy exhalation, Arcanthus continued the recording.
He switched camera feeds regularly to keep the terran in view as she exited the tram station and made her way through the crowded streets, subtly checking for pursuit as she moved.
Though Arc played the recording at a faster-than-normal speed, the terran’s pace clearly slowed as she traveled, and she soon developed a noticeable limp.
Drakkal’s lips fell into a deep frown; the tightness in his throat and chest was no longer the result of rage but of sorrow and helplessness, of guilt. His mate was suffering, and he couldn’t comfort her.
His mate was suffering, and he’d caused it.
Her route was meandering, including a stop for food, but she eventually reached what seemed to be her ultimate destination—a big, rundown apartment building two sectors away from Viraxis. She entered the building, and Arcanthus paused the playback a few seconds later.
Drakkal’s heartbeat, slower now but even more insistent, filled the silence until he said, “Follow her into the building. Show me where she went in there.”
“I can’t, Drak.”
“Kraasz ka’val, you really think I believe you can hack Consortium surveillance but not crack the security of a dump like that?”
Arcanthus changed the main display to a three-dimensional model of the apartment building and the surrounding structures. Numerous slowly flashing dots were scattered around the building, but none were on the building itself—or inside it.
“The place is dark,” Arcanthus said. “If they have a system, it’s a closed network, off grid. But places like that don’t usually have surveillance at all. Less chance of liability for the owners when the peacekeepers come knocking.”
“So what do we do?”
Reverting to the main recording feed—the one focused on the building’s front door—Arcanthus scrubbed through the available footage.
Aliens of dozens of species came and went through that entrance, but there was no sign of Drakkal’s terran.
There was no sign of any terrans at all.
The feed slowed to normal speed when it reached current time.
“Either she’s still inside or she left by another exit,” Arcanthus said. “Either way, I think—”
Drakkal shoved away from the desk and turned toward the door.
“Where are you going, Drak?”
“To knock on doors until I find her.”
“Stop, Drakkal. Please. You need—”
Nostrils flaring, Drakkal spun toward Arcanthus. “Did you ever stop? You know what she is to me, Arcanthus!”
Arcanthus pushed himself up out of his chair and stepped closer to Drakkal.
Though the sedhi wasn’t nearly as burly as the azhera, he was a couple centimeters taller—not counting his horns.
The beast inside Drakkal, which hadn’t stirred for over a year before encountering his elusive female terran, demanded he face this challenge directly.
“I know exactly what she is to you, azhera, which is why you need to stop and listen to me,” Arcanthus said firmly, holding Drakkal’s gaze.
Drakkal’s fur bristled as a fresh wave of heat spread through him, concentrating in his face. “Stopping isn’t going to help me find her.”
“But it will help you keep her,” Arc said. The weight of his expression, paired with the sincerity in his tone, broke through Drakkal’s impatience and aggravation. It wasn’t often that Arcanthus was so solemn.
“What do you mean?”
Arcanthus settled a hand on Drakkal’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “Terrans are different from you and I, Drakkal, and I don’t mean merely in appearance. Whatever you feel for her, whatever instinctual drive is pushing you toward her, she doesn’t feel the same for you. They don’t work that way.”
“Sam loves you, Arcanthus.”
“Well, who doesn’t?” Arc replied with a smirk before lifting a finger and lowering his eyebrows. “Don’t answer that. This terran may well come to recognize that she’s your mate and reciprocate, but it’s not going to be instantaneous. You need to win her, not conquer her. You know…woo her.”
“I freed her from captivity and let her have the clothes off my back. Shouldn’t that be proof enough of my intentions?”
“According to your story, you bought her and then she robbed you at gunpoint.”
“All amounts to the same thing.”
Arcanthus licked his lips, sighed, and closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You really need to try to consider this from her perspective.”
Drakkal drew in a steadying breath, struggling to contain his once again growing anger. “I haven’t exactly had the opportunity to ask her about her perspective, Arc.”
“I have fantasized about having the chance to say this to you for a long time, Drakkal—don’t be stupid.”