by Celia Kyle
“They will learn of the errors of their actions.”
“Yes.” Every warrior agreed with him and now Kozav realized he may have to protect Sugal and Impe from his men.
The rumble of an approaching shuttle reached him and Detzan looked out the window. “Units raghroru and ruor come.”
It amazed him that they’d arrived so quickly, but it should not have. Many observed Kozav with Grace in that hallway. Many knew of the reason for their trip to the surface. At least he had some males he could depend on to be honorable.
“Grant them entrance when they arrive. I will be with Grace and her dam.”
And he would not be rejected. He strode down the narrow hall once more, ignoring the way the floor shook with his every step. Already the aroma of sickness was lessened and he hated that she’d been the one to cleanse the space. He softly knocked on the door, waiting to see if she would come to him or if he’d have to push his way into the space.
But his mate appeared, hair stringy and damp, face pale and eyes wide. “Shaa kouvi.”
His heartbeat tripped and joy sang in his chest. He hated the reason behind her use of the endearment, but he loved hearing it on her lips. “Shaa kouva,” he murmured in return. “Healers will be here momentarily.”
“Heal…” she whispered and swallowed hard. Liquid filled her eyes again and he was unsure what he did wrong this time.
“Do you wish me to send them away? I believed your dam required medical—”
She grasped his hand and squeezed it tightly. “She does.”
“Then they shall assist you. Will she allow that?” Kozav was not sure he’d allow Grace’s dam the choice.
Grace glanced over her shoulder and Kozav followed his mate’s line of sight. The change in the female sitting in a chair near the window was astounding. The paleness remained but her hair had been brushed, clothes changed, and her eyes no longer seemed so hazed with exhaustion.
“Mom?” His mate whispered at her dam. Perhaps the female’s illness also affected her hearing? He would have to warn the healers.
“I…” Her lower lip trembled and Kozav could not remain silent.
He spoke to Grace’s dam directly. “Dam Hall, I swear to you—”
“Donna,” Grace murmured. “Her name’s Donna.”
Kozav shook his head. “She is an honored dam and should always be treated as such. It is our way.” He shrugged. She could not change their entire race. “Dam Hall, healers will be here momentarily to escort you to our ship.”
Dam Hall fluttered her hand, a gesture much like his kouva’s. “I’m fine now,” her voice was so soft and brittle. “There’s no point in dragging me into space just to hear there’s nothing that can be done. Then you’ll have to bring me back down all over again.”
The small smile he received was weak and tender, and a look to his mate showed him she had the same beliefs.
They truly thought…
Kozav grasped his mate’s hand and pulled her into the room, not stopping until they stood in front of Dam Hall. “I was told that human females do not like being told what to do. They find it offensive. So, I am sorry for what I am about to say, but your anger will not change my decision.”
He gently squeezed Grace’s hand and then lowered himself, carefully reaching for Dam Hall’s. He cradled her fisted hands in one of his own. “Dam Hall, your daughter is my mate, my one.” The ill female’s gaze bounced between them. “I have handled this badly by stealing your daughter from you when you needed her, but I swear to the skies that you will suffer no longer. You will return to the Preor ship with us permanently.” His mate gasped, but his focus was on the frail woman before him. “You will be made comfortable and our healers will do all they can to make you well. I swear it.”
It was a vow he intended to keep. Neither female would ever know another day of heartache, pain, or struggle.
Ever.
10
The Knowing made her stupid. No, Kozav made her stupid. Actually, him being all sweet and promising to take care of her mom made her stupid. Just… all of the above. Everything from waking up until this very moment was a great big ball of “make Grace stupid.”
And it’d worked. Because now she was in his—their?—suite while her mother was in medical and Kozav was doing whatever Primary Warriors did. When the healers and additional guards, as well as Sobol joi Zurer, had appeared in her apartment, Grace sensed an underlying tension that thrummed through them all. And it hadn’t dissipated when they’d arrived back on the battleship.
Kozav had escorted her to their suite and promised he’d only be gone a short time. She was to rest and then he would return and escort her to medical to check on her mom. He didn’t want her wandering around alone and getting into trouble. Her words, not his. He just emphasized the resting.
Well, she’d rested—for five minutes—and then she’d paced for thirty more. Now Grace was ready to rock and roll right down the hall to find out how her mother was doing and whether the Preors could do anything for her. For the umpteenth time, she thanked God for the Preors. Even if they didn’t have a cure, her mom would at least be clean, fed, and comfortable until the end. The end when the Pol Mutation won.
At the thought of the end, her eyes burned, tears gathering. Dammit, she wasn’t normally a crier, but Kozav… having him turned her into one, apparently.
Grace blinked the moisture away and shook her head. She wasn’t going to go down that sentimental road. Not right then. Maybe later when she wasn’t so worried about everything in her world blowing up. For now, she’d gather her brass ovaries and find her mother. Her mate could—
It was weird to think of Kozav that way. Her mate. The Knowing manifested between them and he was her mate.
The one thing she’d been searching for all this time (for all the wrong reasons) and now she had one. He hadn’t been found in the Intergalactic Mating Agency offices, but on an exam table. She still hadn’t quite come to terms with the concept of a winged alien mate, but she needed to. Soon. Before he expected her to share his bed. Not that it’d be a problem for her. Already she craved him, her body attuned to his, and her mouth watered when she wondered what he’d taste like.
No. Bad horny Grace. She needed to find her mother.
The only way to do that was ask for directions. “Ship, directions to medical, please.”
“Medical is located on deck ravou section ouakh.”
That didn’t tell her a damn thing. “Let’s try this again,” she grumbled. “Ship, please provide turn-by-turn directions that will get me from this room to medical.”
“Primary Warrior Kozav joi Grace Hall recommended remaining within the suite.”
She glared at the room since she wasn’t sure how the ship monitored the area. “Recommending is not the same as ordering. Comply.”
She wouldn’t ask again. If the ship didn’t listen to her, she’d… Do something really bad. She wasn’t sure what since she wasn’t familiar with Preor vessels, but—
But the Knowing surged, feeding her data at a rate that made her dizzy and she stumbled toward a nearby chair. She gripped the back, aching to remain on her feet, and waited for it to end. There was a bonus about asking that mental question, though. She didn’t need the ship to provide directions any longer. Apparently the design hadn’t changed in nearly a century and it was well documented in the blood memory.
“Disregard my request.” Grace padded toward the door, the last of the knowledge settling into her mind. “I’ll handle it myself.”
She paused at the exit to the room and placed her thumb on the identipad, waiting to see if the ship would let her go or try and keep her captive. It didn’t sound too happy about her finding medical.
The red light turned green and the doors parted, revealing the hallway beyond. A tremor overtook her, one completely unrelated to exhaustion or worry. Nope. It was more a hint of foreboding with a dash of “this is how women from old horror vids died.” That chill down her spine and the su
dden swamping of unease practically screamed that she should go back into the room and crawl under the covers. But that was the easy path, and she hadn’t done easy in years and years. She was used to doing the hard things, to standing up for what she believed and working for what she wanted. At the moment, she wanted her mommy.
So, death by stupidity or not, she eased from the room, twitching when the metal doors slid shut behind her. She recalled the path outlined by the Knowing, the distant knowledge having her turn right and then left, avoiding the hall that led to the meal area and then doubling back so she also avoided the training rooms. The Knowing was really great at the subterfuge stuff. She was already halfway to medical, even moving as slowly as she was. The Knowing sickness was long gone since she’d been reunited with Kozav, but that didn’t immediately wipe away the fatigue left behind by her riotous emotions throughout the day.
She was a mere three turns from medical now, two lefts and then a right, which would let her dip around engineering and come out in another mostly deserted area of the ship.
Quick.
Easy.
Until she got close to that next-to-last corner. She’d gotten too cocky—too pleased with herself. Grace hadn’t seen a soul and assumed she was home free since she was so close to medical, but… Yeah, she wasn’t.
That was when shit got real. Live, in living color, and all over orange.
She rounded the bend and slammed into a solid wall of flesh, bouncing back. She grasped the biceps of the person—Preor—she’d hit and stumbled, nearly losing her footing. Shock was followed by panic and worry danced on her nerves. Had the ship contacted Kozav and tattled on her? Had he intercepted her?
No. Because Kozav was teal and this guy with his amber hair and orange wings reminded her of… Screw reminding her of anyone. It was him. “You.”
“You,” he snarled in return, exposing long, glistening fangs.
Grace jerked her hands off him and shuffled backward. His rage whipped at her, chasing her, striking her with its intensity. The smart thing would be to back off, apologize, and pray she got out of the situation unhurt. Grovel, Grace, grovel.
“Sorry about that.” She forced herself to smile though she was sure it was more like a grimace.
“Do you know what you have done to me?” He towered over her, taking a step forward each time she stepped back. “Do you know what I have had to endure?”
She licked her lips and swallowed past the hard knot in her throat. “I—”
He came nearer once more, a light in the dim hallway shining down on his face. “Do you?”
No, but she had some idea. His face was a mass of purples and greens, the colors clashing with the orange of his wings and eyes. She saw the small pin-pricks from Kozav’s attack, but none of this had been present when they’d left the ship. All of the damage to the male had to have occurred after they’d gone to Earth.
“I didn’t—”
She didn’t do a damned thing. Good or bad. He’d been the one to come after her. She’d lied to Kozav about this male’s behavior, but she’d been too intent on getting to her mom. She should have told him the truth, but—
“Do you know what has happened to my uncle? Because of you? Because of some breeder?”
Breeder.
A derogatory term applied to—
Grace put a lid on the Knowing. She didn’t need an explanation for that one. The definition was pretty clear. He saw her as nothing more than a vessel. Someone to carry Preor babies to term and then that was that.
She was a thing to him, not a person.
Just a breeder.
He stalked her, herding her as if she was cattle, farther down the passageway.
“Sugal was a Healing Master. The only Healing Master in the third fleet. And he’s been jailed because of you and your breeder dam.” He hissed. “You both should have been left on Earth. The Preors don’t need you. Any of you.”
Grace was going to stay calm. She wasn’t going to react to his ranting. She just needed to bide her time and then when someone else came along, she’d run. Simple. Easy.
Except he kept talking and it didn’t take him long to say the words that broke the camel’s back. Or released Grace’s hatefire.
“You’re nothing. You’re no one. You’re ikpor.”
Worthless. Garbage.
Growing up with hardly a penny to her name meant Grace’s life was different than everyone else’s. It meant she had solid ideals and a hovocar load of pride when it came to who she was and what she’d accomplished in life. She’d fought and scrambled for everything she had. Was she God’s gift to the world? No. But she wasn’t nothing. She wasn’t no one. And she’d worked damned hard to be worth something.
“I’m no one?” She stopped retreating and stood her ground. “I’m no one?” She pointed to herself. “Look, I tried to save your sorry ass. You and I both know you grabbed me and threw me down. We both know that if Kozav hadn’t shown up, I’d be sporting bruises or a broken bone.”
“The Preors do not need breeders—”
She sneered at him. “Listen, Tang—”
“My name is Third Warrior Impe sen Viz’on.”
Right. Earth jokes wouldn’t work on a Preor even if his wings were the color of orange Tang. Her blood pumped quickly through her veins, anger fueling her every word and movement.
“Fine. Third Warrior Impe Pussy-Boy sen Viz’on.” His face darkened to a deep red and she wondered if he was familiar with Earth insults. “I may be a breeder, but you’re nothing but an overgrown hatchling trying to play at being a warrior.” She looked him up and down, making sure her disgusted sneer encompassed him. “You’re a child, you speciesist misogynistic butterfly.”
“Breeder bitch.”
Grace was prepared for the breeder insult.
She wasn’t prepared for the backhand that came with the bitch.
Or the blackout that immediately followed.
11
The blackout didn’t last long. The ear-ringing dizziness stuck around, though. That and the throbbing from her cheek. Or rather, the entire right side of her face since Impe sen Viz’on’s hand was as big as a house. And, of course, when she thought of his name it was with the male’s whiny, thin voice.
My name is… Whiny, whiny asshole.
Grace slowly opened her eyes, anxious to discover where she’d ended up. The ceiling was the same as Kozav’s rooms, but the surface beneath her was different—soft, yet hard. That didn’t tell her anything. The scents in the room did, though. A hospital was a hospital whether on Earth or in an alien spaceship. There was no getting away from the aromas of sickness and cleanser. The cleaning staff could be the best ever created, but illness always clung to everything.
She slowly turned her head, searching out anyone else who might be in the area, and she realized she wasn’t in a private room but an open space. An open space she shared with her mother. Well, she got to her destination. Painfully, but she got there.
Her mom’s color was better, some of the paleness gone and replaced with a low flush of health. No, not true health, but at least it wasn’t death. The memories of the past haunted her, the frailness of her mother’s body, the thinness of her arms when Grace clutched them and helped her into the bathroom. The room hadn’t been as bad as she’d imagined, but it’d been close. When she’d gotten her mom into the shower, settling her on the small shower chair, she’d done nothing but apologize.
For her failures. For her neglect. For… everything.
And so like a mom, she’d been told there was nothing to forgive. Which had only made her cry harder.
Then Kozav, with his forceful nature and dominating presence, was beyond gentle and caring with Donna Hall—Dam Hall in his words. Respect and awe had been in his every word and touch. After that, he’d done as promised. Healers flowed in and out of the small apartment, carrying off her mom for treatment while Kozav promised she’d get the best Preor had to offer. He would demand the Royal Healing Master if ne
cessary.
I will not lose another dam.
The message resonated through her, heartache and grief in those few words, but it hadn’t been the time to question him. Not while surrounded by his warriors.
Now, lying on one of the platforms in medical and staring at her mother’s relaxed face, Grace knew he’d fulfilled each vow.
The rustle of wings, already familiar to her in the short time she’d been surrounded by Preor, drew her attention to a nearby healer. His grey eyes were kind, gentler than the other warriors she’d met so far, and he gave her a soft smile. Maybe it was the overall grey of his appearance that eased some of her tension or merely his expression, but he reminded her of a kind, old doctor. Not one of the pretty boys who didn’t know their ass from their elbows, but one of those she’d seen in older vids. When doctors cared more for patients than credits.
“Hi,” she whispered, unwilling to disturb her mom. The woman needed her rest, needed it to get healthy. Well, as healthy as possible.
“Hello, Grace joi Kozav. I am Primary Healer Whelon.”
She gave the male a careful quirk of her lips in return, waiting for the pain to flare, and she was surprised when it remained a dull throb. “What’s the damage, Doc?”
“Bruising, no more.” He raised his eyebrows. “You were very lucky, Grace joi Kozav. A Preor warrior’s strength is much greater than even Earth’s most fierce military officers.”
Yeah, she knew that. Now. She’d been decked by a patient or two in the ER. Sometimes shit just happened. “Yeah, that’s all it feels like.” She laid her hands on the bed near her chest, and levered herself up before swinging her legs over the side. She so wasn’t commenting on a Preor’s badass-ness. “And how’s my mom?”
“Better, though no cure has yet been found.” He shook his head. “But I would not be worrying over another when you should worry over yourself.”
“You just said I was fine.” Achy, but fine.
