Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 68478 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 342(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68478 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 342(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
All right. If she’s mine, then I need to fix this. I slap my communicator on my wrist, turning it on, and lift it to my mouth. “Niri, head to med bay, would you? I’m coming in and you’re needed.”
She immediately clicks back. “Are you all right? Did you hurt yourself?”
“Just go to med bay,” I tell her, and move forward. I head to the other side of the smelly, furry creature and heft him into my arms. He’s enormous and probably weighs twice what I do, with long, dangling legs and so much fur that I’m going to be pulling it out of my molars for weeks to come. But he’s not fighting me, and his head is limp. I tilt so the majority of his weight falls on my bionic arm, and then stagger toward the entrance of the ship.
The woman follows after me. I almost expect her to shout in her angry, babbling language, or to hit me with those delicate hands of hers, but she doesn’t. She hovers at my heels, her sniffs the only sounds she makes. The hatch opens automatically, and I head inside, turning sideways to go through the narrow entrance. The creature’s bleeding all over me and all over the floors, but right now that doesn’t matter. What matters is making sure it doesn’t die, because I don’t think I’ll be able to stand it if this strange woman looks at me with hate…or worse, disappointment. Hate can always be flipped back to friendship, but disappointment lasts forever.
“What is going on?” Niri calls as she enters the ship’s main narrow passageway. She gasps, flattening herself against the wall as she sees me with the furry, bleeding monstrosity. “What the kef is that thing?”
“This planet?” I growl. “It’s not uninhabited.”
“Is that one of the locals?” Niri asks, her eyes wide as she hurries back toward med bay. Inside, I can hear the hum of her computers as they power up. “Did he talk to you?”
“No. It’s complicated.”
“I see. I don’t know if he’s going to fit on the diagnostic bed.” She moves to the control panel and taps a few buttons, and the metal bed rolls out of the compartment with a soft hiss. I heft my burden onto it and stagger backward the moment he’s out of my arms. Gods, that thing was heavy. I glance down at my enviro-suit and it’s covered in blood. I unzip it and begin to unbuckle my way out of the cumbersome thing.
Niri busies herself with the creature. When the legs don’t tuck into the bed itself, she gives up on sending it through the diagnostic scanner and takes out a handheld, moving it over the creature.
“I can tell you what’s wrong,” I say gruffly as I pry the insulated boots off my feet. “I keffing shot him. He was charging at us.”
“Us?” Niri turns and frowns at me. “What are you talking about?”
“The girl.” Her brows go up, and I turn, realizing that my new friend didn’t follow me into the med clinic. “Shit. Be right back.” I shove the filthy enviro-suit aside and race back into the hall, looking for her. If Trakan sees her…
But there she is, standing near the doorway that leads to the bridge. She’s admiring one of the wall panels, touching a light as it flashes up on screen. It’s a weather reading of the outdoors, and I’m pretty sure she can’t read what it says, but she seems fascinated by it. I move to her side, and she jerks in surprise at the sight of me. Must not hate me too much, though, because she immediately starts purring again, and that makes me feel better.
“Tisik,” she says, pointing at the screen. “Vo?”
I have no clue what she’s saying. “Do you like the lights? Or do you want to know what it says?”
She sighs heavily and gives her head a little shake. “Ne vo.” She gazes at me, frowning as she studies my chest. I rub a hand over it, wondering if there’s something wrong with my crew jumpsuit. It ain’t much to look at, but considering I spend ninety-nine percent of my days in space with only three other people, I don’t much care what I look like.
And it’s not like a naked chick’s gonna be a fashion critic, right?
She pats my chest, and then looks up at me, frowning.
“Are you wondering where my clothes went? They’re still here. Speaking of…” I untuck my shirt and pull it over my head, then offer it to her.
She takes it and raises it to her nose, gently sniffing it. After a moment, she pets the fabric and gives me another curious glance. Her fingers reach out and she touches my chest, the scars over my heart-plating, and the line where my flesh meets the bionic arm. It’s making my body respond, and I need to shut this shit down fast before I remember that it’s been well over three years since I slept with a woman. I take the shirt and pull it over her shoulders, then help her work her arm through the sleeve. She giggles, the sound light and achingly sweet, as I button her into it.