Chapter 3 #2
Dom puts his huge hand on his shoulder. “I get equilibrium from this. Arik has done only as I asked.” He gets to his knees as well, first one, then the other, purple eyes never leaving mine even though they're unfocused, almost as if he’s in a daze.
“If we have transgressed or broken one of your laws, or… frightened you, it is my fault. I accept full responsibility.”
He doesn't seem to be in pain, but first things first. “Let me see your back. Do you have healing spray or something?”
He shakes his head. “Arik didn’t cut through my scales. This is… necessary.”
“Necessary? For what?” I glare at Arik, who wilts under my stare but doesn’t move.
Dom shifts his weight, sliding his shoulder in front of Arik’s as if shielding his twin. “Arik did as I asked. I… I need…” Dom bows his head, whispering, “I need this.”
“Actual torture? No, absolutely not.” I pace around them, checking the damage for myself.
Not that I can do much to help, I'm no good with blood.
Fortunately his scales aren't oozing anything; smokey black lines crisscross his back in every direction, like someone slashed charcoal marks all over him.
I bite my lip. “Look, you know you’re free, right? You don’t have to do this to each other.”
Dom and Arik exchange a glance. “Yes, Oh-Law-rah,” Dom says.
I rub the bridge of my nose. Now I've calmed down, I take in the scene again, break it down. “What is it you need about… this?” I ask him.
“It centers me. Gives me clarity and calm.” He says it so matter of factly, like I would reel out case precedents. “But if it is forbidden, then I will not seek it out anymore.”
“You’d better not,” I say, sharp.
He nods, but his eyes have lost all sense of that dreamy relief, and I can't help but feel I've messed something up.
Whatever it is, it has to wait. “Arabella isn’t in the house, and clearly she’s not here,” I explain. “Do you know where she is?”
“We don’t,” Dom replies, voice rough-edged. “Gara went to find her.”
My stomach sinks. Fuck. “Then we have to go search too. Where did he go?”
“Mm… across the fields.” Dom lifts his arm to point roughly toward the west, but it quivers and then drops to his side, his muscles finally giving in to exhaustion.
Poor guy. “Who saw her last?”
“We did,” Dom says. “You, me, Nevare, Arik. She left then.”
“She’s been gone for that long?” Frack, this is serious. “We need to find her, get up, let’s go search.”
Immediately they surge to their feet, but what’s amazing is that Dom is suddenly focused, eyes sharp as if he’s had three days of rest and a bucket of coffee.
“At once, female,” he says with a feral grin, revealing a flash of longer-than-human incisors against his pale purple lips. He locks eyes with Arik who immediately peels off as if given a signal, and then Dom approaches, his huge form shadowing me.
“Would you like me to escort you into the homestead before I leave on the search?”
Dom’s close. Super close. Reach out and touchable close. “N… No.” I bite my tongue. “I want to search too.”
“Nevare will scan the nearby area for… hm. The nanites are struggling to translate. Thought patterns, brain noise, the spike of signal unique to the human Arra-bellah and Gara.” He cocks his head. “He’s found them.”
“Wow, it was that simple? Wait, how do you know he’s found them?”
He taps his temple. His sweaty, shiny temple. “Nevare and Arik communicate with me here. I’m the Base with Arik, and Nevare is our Apex.”
Ah. “A psychic?” I check.
“Yes. Do you have them on Earth?”
“I'd say no, but who knows, actually. I mean, if aliens are real, why not psychics, right?”
He nods. “I see the logic, Oh-Law-rah.”
He's very literal. So am I. “What’s Gara doing with my friend? If he’s hurt her, I’ll skin him alive.”
“He would never hurt a female, but I swear to you, if he has or you judge him lacking, I’ll skin him for you.” His voice rings in the shed with the promise, his jaw tight.
I take a step back. He’s sincere. He’s not happy about it, but he’ll carry out the sentence. “Let’s get Arabella to safety first, okay?”
He presses his fist to the center of his sweat-streaked chest. “At once, Oh-Law-rah.”
We step outside into the driving rain. “What a washout,” I mutter, wrestling with my soggy umbrella.
Dom comes to stand in front of me, arms up to block as much of the deluge as he can. Which isn’t a lot, but it’s the thought that counts. And man, that does something for me. A big strong guy seeing what I need before I do? Hello.
Except he does actually manage to block out the downpour. I stare up at his huge hands. “How are you doing that?”
“Doing what, Oh-Law-rah?”
“It’s Laura. Just Laura.”
“Law….rah.” A man’s tongue has never rolled the syllables of my name around his mouth like that. His breath is a puff of warmth against my cheek, and I’m reminded his literally steaming hot half naked body is practically pressing against me as he shields my head from the British weather.
I can't deny I like it. A lot.
“Anyway, you're blocking the shower with your fists,” I explain, but a few feet away it's raining harder than ever, coming down in sheets. As if someone pulled a waterfall curtain around our little area, giving us privacy.
I point upward. “Is that something you're doing?” Because I hope it is.
“No, Law-rah.” He stares at the dry circle around us, jaw ticking, then looks up.
“Then what's going on—”
Blinding bright white light bathes the yard, and he grabs me.