Page 25 of Dark Survivor (The Qaldreth Warriors #2)

Chapter Fifteen

When Tiny entered her ex-captain’s room, Themba was sobbing. She’d had to override security to gain access.

“Captain,” she said, with no response.

“Someone has died,” Nenn whispered from her right; his presence like an immovable wall. “A vid is playing on the wall.”

“Oh.” Now, Vic’s hesitancy made sense. He’s not well , she’d said. Pain had been in her voice. Maybe she’d known the person who’d died?

Tiny tapped the injection gun, choosing a mild tranquilizer. But when she took a step to where the crying came from, Nenn grabbed her hips and swung her, pinning her to his body.

She gasped and clung to him, her mind blank.

“There is debris on the floor,” he said, his breath hot against her temple.

Beneath her fingers was solid muscle. Red hair and eyes?

She liked the sound of that. And the texture of his skin was a mixture of warm suede and velvet.

How could he be walking around shirtless in cold space?

The thomp-thomp of his boots on the grated flooring said he wasn’t fully naked, but still.

While drawing in deep breaths to calm her erratic heartbeat, she pressed her temple to his chest. His scent filled her nose—sunbaked rock and metal.

“Thank you,” she croaked. “Lead me to him, please, or press this gun to his neck.”

Nenn shifted back but gripped her elbows. Then his touch was gone, along with the gun she’d squashed between her palm and his arm.

The swish of the injection ended the crying, no doubt surprising the catatonic captain. Sniffles then silence consumed the room.

“Computer, status?” she asked, reaching out a hand for Nenn.

When he grasped her fingers, something fluttered inside her: a sense of permanency, hope, promise… Whatever it was, it took all her concentration not to dwell on it.

“Heartbeat stabilizing.”

“Take me to him,” she asked Nenn.

Up he lifted her, summoning a squeak from her. He wrapped his arms just under her butt, leaving her clutching his shoulders. Before she could chastise him, her feet touched down. He released her, and the sweep-clink from the floor told her he brushed things aside for her.

Against her knees was the hard edge of a bed.

She patted the air until she met Themba’s hair.

Under her fingertips, she registered dehydration, no doubt worsened by alcohol—he reeked of it.

What she’d given him would help him sleep and wouldn’t be affected by anything he’d consumed. Maybe in the morning he’d feel better?

“Computer, monitor him, and notify me if anything changes. Please lead me to the med bay.” A beep sounded to her left.

Hot fingers laced with hers, and with a gentle tug, Nenn drew her toward it. “Computer, deactivate the vid.”

At his thoughtfulness, she smothered a smile.

She trailed him, happy to do so. Just because he was a medic wasn’t a good enough reason to blindly trust him.

Yet, he’d healed her, stayed with her, and been nothing but kind.

No way would she entertain the thought that he did all this to get into her pants.

She shivered and ignored her nipples puckering in anticipation.

No, she wouldn’t seduce the man, nor would she broach the subject.

She’d waited, bided her time, hoped Dieter would make the first move.

How quickly she’d forgotten the lessons learned from her promiscuous past. An interested man would move mountains.

One who didn’t care wouldn’t even bother to get to know her.

And she wanted it all: a knight who swept her off her feet, seduced, cherished, and…loved her? Finding that for a normal woman was hard, but for her, unable to read expressions, she was at a disadvantage from the get-go.

“My chessboard’s the last thing I need to pack,” she said when the familiar smell of her med bay surrounded her.

“I shall leave you here,” Nenn said.

“What? Why?” she asked, taking a step toward his voice.

“We are on a mission to find killers. As a medic—”

“I get it,” she muttered, flicking a dismissive wrist. He couldn’t babysit her forever. She pursed her lips, desperate to understand why she didn’t want him to go.

“I will return for you, hirihadie .”

“If you live,” she snapped, then scrunched her face at her angry tone.

He chuckled: low, husky, and sexy. “I am hard to kill.”

“When you’re shirtless?” She huffed. “At least put on some protection. Or…don’t go.” She winced, shut her mouth, marched to the chair and sat.

“Tiny,” he said, his body warmth at her knees. “I am armored.” He cupped her cheek, holding her still. “My symbiotes form it when I am in danger.”

She layered her hand over his. “Your what?” A ping shot across her temple when she tried to unravel what he’d said.

“Inside every Qaldreth are symbiotes that carry the memories of our ancestors. Anything we do is recorded for all to remember.”

“T-cells,” she whispered, her eyes widening.

She leaped to her feet, then darted around him to grab the 3D model. “Like this? Vic’s got these in her.”

“Yes,” he said, laughter in his voice. “Our symbiotes.” The model left her hands. “This is brilliant. Is this how you ‘see?’”

His admiration made her soul sing. “It’s fascinating to hold it,” she hurried to say to hide her breathlessness.

“Do you have one for Vic’s robotic creatures?”

“Her what?” She frowned. “Do you mean her nanites?”

He hummed. “Is that what you call them?”

“It is. I can ask the printer to make a model for you.” She raised her chin to the ceiling. “Computer, print a 3D representation of a nanite found in Vic’s blood.”

“Starting job now,” Computer said, accompanied by the whirring hum of the 3D printer.

“I like your med bay. Mine is not as well-fitted.” He caught her hand and stroked across her fingertips.

Somehow, she doubted that. “But you have that med-dev.”

“It is designed for urgent care on battlegrounds.” He caressed her knuckles, around her wrists, then to her elbows.

She pinched her lips, trying to hide the goose bumps rippling through her even as she relished being touched.

“For serious injuries, a pod fitted to the wall slides out when summoned. It caters for the full height of an Ivoyan.”

“Oh,” she gasped, splaying her fingers across his torso. Judging by how high she had to lift her arms, he was far from short. “How tall are you?”

“Six feet. An Ivoyan reaches seven feet on average.”

She smiled. Here was a world she’d never encountered. Everywhere she went were humans. Qaldreths and Ivoyans were aliens, proving there was life in that black expanse humans had yet to discover. “Do you come from Ivoy?”

“If you mean was I born there? No. My home is Qaldreth. I am Giniiri—the volcanic tribe.”

Her jaw dropped. No wonder he smelled like hot rocks and gave off such heat.

Was that normal? Did all Qaldreth burn hotter than humans?

What type of upbringing did he have? Were there parents, siblings, or was he raised by a village?

How did he become a medic? What made him choose such a path? How did he get to Ivoy?

“Is your world advanced enough to space travel?” Out of all her questions, that slipped out. She almost stamped her foot in frustration.

“No. The Ivoyans collect those who pass the rite of Uhann.” His tone lowered as if the subject hit a nerve. “That was…not a good day for me.” He cleared his throat. “A discussion for another time.”

“I’m sorry, Nenn,” she said, sensing something horrible happened to him.

“ Hirihadie , you have nothing to apologize for.” He cupped her cheek, drawing a shiver from his hot fingers.

“Nanite model complete,” Computer announced.

Grateful for the distraction, Tiny snapped the model off its stilts.

The hefty structure of a nanite came to life in her hands.

Having studied them, what she held felt right: a hexagonal ball with nozzles protruding off each flat side.

She handed it to Nenn, who’d crowded her from behind, warmth pouring off his body with his breath fanning her shoulder.

“Yes, this is it,” he said, his voice filled with awe.

“When you say Drafe has these, what do you mean?”

“The nanites have fused with the symbiotes, forming something…new.”

Her mind reeled. “Have there been any symptoms or side effects?” She gaped, her eyes widening. “When you said your symbiotes form armor, what does it look like? Do you sparkle?”

He barked a laugh. “No. Why do you ask?”

“Vic said Nikko punched her, but she didn’t feel a thing. That something shimmered over her skin.”

Silence met her words. “That…is impossible,” Nenn whispered. “I had to learn how to summon my armor.”

“Oh, it just happens. I don’t think Vic knows how to control it…them.”

A moan snapped Tiny’s head up. No, she’d heard wrong.

“Please,” Vic groaned.

A flush crawled up Tiny’s neck. She didn’t dare glance at Nenn, but she couldn’t sit there and listen for who knew how long. With or without Nenn beside her. “You better not be doing what it sounds like. I may be blind, but I’m not deaf.”

The kissing stopped; whispers and laughter followed.

Vic and Drafe hurried past the med bay. Nenn didn’t say anything, and Tiny was at a loss, too.

She gathered her confidence around her, strode to the bridge, and sank into the seat in front of the console.

With no one here, someone had to be on duty.

Nenn trailed her, bringing his quiet presence with him.