Chapter 23 #3
Tanin looked back at him, and there was a brief moment where he contemplated what to do. And Trove waited, at the ready, for the order.
But it didn’t come.
“He lives,” Tanin said instead.
Trove snarled. “Captain, he-”
“Lives,” Tanin finished, cutting him a glare that silenced Trove. Though not without effort. “I know. But if we leave dead bodies behind, we’ll be making problems for ourselves.”
“This will come back.”
“Yes. But we’ll deal with it then. He lives. For now.”
Turning on him, Tanin returned to the ship. Trove glared down at the baemoth male, fangs glinting, hand tight on his knife. It would be so easy to kill him…
But then they’d have to answer for the body. They were trying to leave no evidence, but if they killed someone, it would be that much harder to get away with this. Tanin knew that. It was why he was going to risk whatever this Yurekt male would do with the information he had.
Trove leveled the knife at his throat. “Don’t mistake this. We will deal with you if you force our hands. You have a chance to escape unscathed. Take it.”
That warning was all he could manage without the captain’s order.
Hoping that would be enough, knowing it wouldn’t be, he jogged up after the others.
Sway yanked the cord that connected Alred, releasing their hold on the station’s systems. But there were still no alarms or complications as they ran aboard, sealed the door, and broke the connection.
Trove hated leaving that loose end behind, and it must have shown on his face because Tanin approached him first.
“We can’t kill every potential threat.”
“And if he causes us problems?” Trove growled, snarling at Tanin.
“We’ll deal with it.” Tanin crossed his arms. “I don’t like it either. But Ikvar is only tolerant of us and the things we’ve done because moments like this when we choose not to take the easy way. This might come back to us in a bad way, but we’ll gain more overall.”
“Aye, captain,” Trove said, because he had agreed to follow Tanin and his orders. And he trusted that Tanin would make the right choices for them overall.
But the urge to kill that male, to snuff out that problem before it became one, was a strong one. It would be so easy to pre-empt whatever he might do to them by ending him…
But that was exactly why Tanin was in charge.
He was the only one of them who truly had control over himself.
He knew this likely would come back, but he was more willing to deal with the fallout because he knew they wouldn’t get in trouble for reacting to a bad situation, but they would for cutting one off before it began.
It was annoying following the rules. Killing people was a lot simpler.
He was tapping the flat of his knife against his thigh, annoyed, when the females came in. Alerted by Rok that it was safe to emerge – as Alred couldn’t see into the shelter room either – they came to investigate the fantastic, ancient, priceless painting.
Chee, however, didn’t go to the painting first. She went to him. Her gaze went from his pinched face to his tapping knife back up to his face.
“What happened?” She asked.
He let out a breath, forcing his hand to stop. He sheathed the knife back in his thigh belt. He didn’t want to accidentally hit her with it in his anger.
“Hopefully nothing,” he said. “I’m afraid it will become a problem later though.”
“Okay?” She asked, cocking her head.
“We’ll deal with it. Tanin always deals with it. I just wish that it wasn’t so complicated being a law-abiding citizen.”
Chee snickered. “For real.”
“Huh?”
“I get it. Laws are such crap sometimes.”
He blinked at her and she frowned.
“What?”
He shook his head, surprised. “Nothing. That’s just, er, not what I really expected you to say.”
Chee laughed, rocking on her heels. “Believe it or not, I’ve had my own fights with the law.”
“I absolutely do not believe it.”
“You don’t know my past,” she flipped her hair, the orange flaring brightly in the strands. It was meant to be a sassy move, but it just brought his attention to the scar on her face.
Honestly, he barely even saw it anymore. Not to say that he ignored it. It was just such a part of her, it was like taking note of her nose or her shoulders every time he looked at her.
But her flippant comment hit much harder than he was sure she intended.
She even laughed it off, turning as Haven called to her, gesturing her over to look at the painting.
They were all engrossed in what appeared to be an old city bathed in fire.
It was a huge scene of war, chaos, destruction, and tragedy. Beautiful, and terrible.
And that’s what her scar was as well.
There was a story there, and he didn’t know it. But he wanted to. He was eager to find out why she was attached to that scar.
Was she like him? Did the story of her past tie her tongue? Did she have screams that haunted her waking moments and infested her dreams? If he asked her about it, would she find her entire body locking down?
And if that were true, how could he ask her about it?