Chapter 12 #2
“Wait!” she hissed. She listened carefully. The loud thumps and crashes had ceased. She heard only the skittering of the larvae. The sounds of a titanic struggle between Kordolian and Xargek had disappeared.
That meant one of two things. “Wait here.” Arin held up a hand and crept up to the doors, gingerly placing her hand against the door panel. With a whoosh, the doors slid open, revealing carnage inside.
The first thing that hit her was the smell. It was absolutely putrid. Yellow gooey stuff was splattered across the communication equipment, and black chitinous limbs lay on the floor, severed from the Xargek’s body, which was motionless, a dagger protruding from its black triangular head.
“Rykal?” Her voice was tinged with dread.
“I’m fine,” he called out, but he sounded like he was in pain.
He’s alive. Thank the fucking stars.
Arin looked down and saw a trail of black liquid on the floor. It began as droplets, turning into pools and streaks. She followed the trail with her gaze. The black stuff seemed to be moving, sliding towards the naked being slumped in the corner.
“Rykal!” She rushed over to him, dropping to her knees beside him. His weapons were scattered around him, and there was a large wound in his chest. The black stuff was his blood. Kordolian blood was dark, and it smelled bitter.
He looked up, a crooked smile crossing his lips. “Be a sweetheart and get that for me, will you?”
“Get what?” Arin was dumbfounded that he could be so nonchalant when he was lying seriously injured on the floor.
Rykal waved the severed stump of his left arm in the air. “That thing over there. My hand.”
Arin followed the direction of his gesture and saw his silver hand lying in a pool of black blood.
She opened her mouth, but no words came out.
Her horror must have been clearly written on her face, because Rykal regarded her with warmth in his eyes.
“Don’t look at me like that,” he said gently.
“It’s just a flesh wound. All I need to do is stick it back on. ”
“Stick it back on…” Arin shook her head in disbelief as she reached out and gingerly picked up Rykal’s severed hand. It felt strangely warm and familiar, even though it was detached from his body. As if in a trance, Arin passed the severed extremity to him.
It was gruesome and surreal, and Rykal’s tender smile only made the situation seem ridiculous.
How could he be smiling and relaxed and cocky at a time like this?
He took his hand from her and pressed it against the stump on his arm. Arin’s eyes widened as his skin started to knit together, those weird little black dots swarming up and down as if they were somehow repairing his flesh.
“Nanites,” Rykal said, as if that explained everything.
In a couple of minutes, he was able to move his fingers.
“Holy hell,” Arin whispered, unable to hide her shock. Just when she thought she’d seen everything, she’d witnessed Rykal’s amputated hand heal itself, as if he were some kind of Frankenstein from beyond the stars.
“I told you, I’m a bit of an abomination.” Rykal made a fist, testing his hand. “It will take a while for me to regain full strength in this hand, but at least it’s back on.”
“What does it take to kill you, Rykal?” Arin murmured, not really expecting an answer. She was just expressing her disbelief.
“Beats me,” Rykal said, propping himself up on his elbows.
Arin did a double take. “Why are you naked?”
“Healing,” he grunted. The terrible wounds in his chest were almost completely patched up now. His body was repairing itself right before her very eyes.
“Right.” Arin’s eyes wandered. She couldn’t help it. Injuries aside, Rykal was everything she’d hoped he would be and more.
Wait a minute… what exactly were you hoping to see, Sergeant?
He was silver, chiseled perfection. He was a living, breathing sculpture, from his generous shoulders to the defined lines of his abdominal muscles to his, uh, rather… generous endowment.
Said endowment was rather, uh… erect.
Arin couldn’t stop staring. Responding to the direction of her gaze, Rykal’s smile grew even wider.
Impossible bastard.
He sat there surrounded by his own blood, healing from gruesome injuries, and yet he somehow managed to look like an Adonis from ancient times, a renaissance sculpture brought to life complete with fangs, elf-ears, and out-of-this-world nano-modifications.
He was grinning at her, not at all bothered by his nakedness.
Cocky bastard.
“Ahem!” Riana’s nervous voice made her turn towards the doorway. Her dark eyes were wide with fear, and her arms trembled as she raised her bolt gun. “S-sergeant, what’s going on?”
Riana, too, was staring at Rykal.
Feeling strangely protective, Arin shed her flight jacket and draped it across Rykal’s nether regions.
“Riana,” she said gently, “he’s not a threat to us. Put the gun down.”
“H-he’s the one I told you about,” she whispered, “the one who…”
“I know.”
“I’m going to call for backup.”
“Don’t bother, Riana. Just get your ass into the chair and do as I asked, or we’re all fucked.”
“But…”
“That’s an order, Riana.” There wasn’t time for freaking out or screwing around or ogling naked Kordolians, although the latter two options were mighty tempting.