Page 38 of Dark Survivor (The Qaldreth Warriors #2)

Chapter Twenty-Three

Alone in her room, Tiny sucked in a deep breath, her thoughts circling Ulvus’s advice. She couldn’t carry her anger forever. While Nenn was climbing his wall, she wanted this done. And who knew when next she’d be alone to do so.

She said to her tablet, “Open email. Compose to Henry and Maria Bryant. Speech to text.” Dear Mom and Dad, I’m sorry for my silence.

I’ve been kidnapped with my consent by an alien race offering me a possible healing.

I’m loving the trip, and I’ve met someone too.

I just wanted to get something off my chest, once and for all.

Why was Jamie loved more than me? Why did you neglect me?

Was I a bad daughter? Did I do something to make you love me less?

I don’t think you’ll get this message, considering I’m isolated, one of two human women onboard.

That’s a good thing when I’m writing this fueled by anger and resentment.

I’m sorry this is out of the blue, but it’s been a long time coming.

All my love from a daughter who does matter, Tiny.

“Send.” She slumped, drained, and yet somehow, that shadow that had clouded her thoughts was gone as if a weight had been stripped from her.

“New message. Compose to Jamie Bryant.” Dear sweet baby brother, To say I hate you would be wrong, because I don’t.

I should for what you put me through. I’m blind, you asshat, thanks to your drug dealing and general disregard for everyone else in your life.

I’d call you selfish, but that would mean nothing to you.

So, here goes. I forgive you for always stealing Mom and Dad’s attention and affection and for ruining my life and career.

And, I guess, for making my existence pointless.

Maybe one day, I can look back at this and feel nothing.

I will find my new purpose, and I hope you find yours. Tiny.

“Send,” she said and sniffed. Why was she crying?

Enough was enough. Ulvus was right; she had to move on, to forget.

She leaped to her feet. Okay, she was standing.

Now what? She wiggled her butt, longing to lose herself to music.

But how? The speakers on the tablet wouldn’t do it for her.

She headed for the door, not wanting to bother Nenn during his climb.

When the door swished shut behind her, she paused.

Right was the bridge. Someone there might be able to help her.

Seventeen steps brought her closer to the quiet hum, purr, whizz of the bridge.

“Um, hello?” She paused in the doorway and sniffed, trying to guess who was on duty. Molten metal met her sensitive nose. She grinned. “Igar?”

“Yes, Tiny? Is there anything you need?”

She crossed to him. “I want to play music. Is there a way to connect it to the speakers in my room?”

“Music?” His smell became stronger with his heavy tread.

“Just for me, not to be broadcast across the ship.” She waved her tablet. “My playlists are on here.” Silence met her words. She frowned. “I can show you. Tablet, play my favorite beats.” She raised the tablet between them when a song played.

“Oh,” Igar gasped, taking the tablet out of her hand. “This is…fascinating.” He walked away, something squeaked like a chair, then boom went her music as it filled the room.

She laughed, relishing the vibrations coursing through her. “Yes, like that,” she yelled just at the music cut off.

“Very well,” Igar said, catching her hand to slide the tablet onto her palm. “It is set up as you requested.”

She clasped the tablet to her chest and beamed. “Thank you so much.”

“What was that?” Vaen demanded from behind her.

She squeaked and stepped aside, then winced when she bumped into something hard. Now wasn’t the time to rub her hip, no doubt bruised.

“Tiny’s…playlist.” Igar sounded both confident and hesitant.

She nodded, switching her gaze between the two shadows that seemed not as blurry as she was used to.

“A cultural thing?” Someone else joined the conversation. She’d hazard a guess it was Gusin. He didn’t speak much, and she hadn’t had that much interaction with him to memorize his voice and scent.

“Sort of,” she said. “I used to dance at a nightclub.”

Chaos ensued while the men argued over and around her. They spoke too fast for her to follow along, but when silence reigned, Vaen touched her forearm.

“Will you share what you have?” he asked.

“Oh,” she gasped, shoving out her tablet. “I didn’t know you’d be interested.”

“Some tribes have these…sounds.” Gusin drew closer, bringing his charged-air smell like electricity coursed through his body. “Ours does, to an extent, with the thrum and boom of thunder.”

“Mine, too,” Nenn said, his tread approaching her. He threw an arm around her and pulled her against his warmth. “Though it is only reserved for mating ceremonies.”

“What’s going on?” Vic called, her dainty tread crossing to Tiny. “What did you do, babe?”

“Just wanted to listen to my music loud,” she said, raising her chin in defiance. No way would she act as if she’d done something wrong.

“You have tunes?” Vic’s surprise had Tiny shuffling on her feet.

“Club music, maybe a few ballades.”

“The most music I got to listen to was my arena intro and exit. And always the same damn song. Along with the other Carne gladiators, of course. Trust me, they got pretty tired fast.” Vic leaned in to whisper, “Thought we could chat. You free?”

“Um, sure,” Tiny said, patting Nenn’s stomach.

He released her. “I will fetch you from the galley.”

“Get my tablet when they’re done, please,” she said and let Vic pull her off the bridge.

They headed to the kitchen in silence while the men flicked through her playlists, blasting two-second snippets, one after the other.

“Well, I see you’re doing well,” Vic said, ushering Tiny onto a bench.

“Causing havoc, you mean,” she said, tossing the woman a smile.

The replicate dinged. Vic shoved a cold glass into Tiny’s hand.

She raised it for a sniff, then sighed. “Mango?”

Vic chuckled. “Something like that.” A slight shift of air confirmed her sitting opposite Tiny at the table. “Thought I’d check in on you. How are things going?”

“Well, Nenn’s made this transition…um, journey, smoother, better. I am worried about the Ivoyans imprisoning me and poking me with their orange fingers. Aehort said as much.”

“Did he now?” Vic smacked her lips.

Reminded of her juice, Tiny sipped the sweet nectar and hummed at the tartness coating her tongue.

“Whatever happens, I’ll fight to protect you, Tiny.” Vic cupped Tiny’s hand. “Drafe, too.”

“I know, and I’m grateful. Just don’t get hurt or die, okay?” Tiny peered at the shadowy outline that was Vic. “They’d have to study me to maybe heal me. I’ve accepted a little prodding’s in my future.”

“I don’t know, Tiny-babe. I’m a tad bit worried since I convinced you to come with, then abandoned you to…”

“Have sex?” Tiny grinned. “No judgment from me. I’ve got Nenn, you see.”

“As in got —”

“Yes,” Tiny blurted. Heat exploded across her cheeks.

“Oh, thank God.” Vic squeezed Tiny’s hand and released her. “I’m glad you’re not alone. Are you his vatia sahaar?”

Tiny frowned. “His what?”

Vic cursed under her breath. “If you don’t know, then you’re not. He’ll tell you if you are.”

“Tell me what?” Tiny snapped.

“That you’re his love mate. It’s rare for Qaldreths, apparently, and yet, Drafe’s mine.” Vic stood. “I see you got an implant. Call me if you want girly companionship.”

Puzzled by Vic’s words, Tiny didn’t listen for her fading footsteps. “Um, will do,” she muttered and cradled her juice.

Oh, what she’d give to stay with Nenn as his mate. Yet, rare meant the chance was slim. She sighed, drained the juice, and rose. Not sure where to put the glass, she took it and inched in the direction Nenn always went. A counter was within her touch, so she left it on the smooth surface.

No Nenn met her on the way to her room. She entered without hindrance, and the closing of the door weighed heavily on her heart. Being alone didn’t used to bother her, probably because her parents had always been reachable…physically. That wasn’t true anymore.

And even though she was heading toward an unknown galaxy, it was good to know she had Vic in her corner. Though how much an augmented human could do against a superior, orange species… Well, she’d find out soon enough.

She sat on the bed and slid the reed from on top of her pillow.

Already, the notes Juunn had taught her didn’t warble as much, and she could hold them for longer.

As a doctor, she likened the playing of such an instrument to breathing exercises.

She drew in a long inhale to prove she’d improved her lung capacity, then ruined it by giggling at her silliness.

A buzz made her jump, and she fumbled the reed. It clattered across the floor and rolled away from her.

“Shit,” she muttered before commanding the door to open. While it did so, she crawled in the direction the instrument rolled. Wincing at the hard floor, she patted around her, inched forward, and repeated.

“What are you doing?” Nenn asked, bringing his amazing cologne with him.

“Dropped the reed.”

“I will get it.” And up she went with a barely muffled squeak. He dumped her on the bed and marched off.

When he sat beside her, his thigh warming hers, she twisted to smile at him. He placed the reed in her hand, then clasped it shut but didn’t release her. “What did Aehort want?”

“Oh,” she gasped and bounced on the spot.

“Nenn, he touched my temple, and I could see through his eyes. It was amazing. I wish you’d been there.

” She raised her free hand to fluff her hair, then lowered her chin to her chest. And he called her beautiful?

She sniffed, tears pressing behind her eyes. What a sweet man.

“Did he say anything about the Ivoyans healing your vision?” Was there concern in his voice?

“The Ivoyans helping me was always a gamble. If they can’t, that’s okay.” Of course, she’d be devastated, but while there was a chance, she wouldn’t worry about it.

The silence stretched. She raised her face as if she could read his expressions. “What’s wrong?”

His mouth across hers made her squeak. She threw out her hands to hold onto his biceps, needing him to stop her from toppling over. His ardor and skilled lips took over, seducing her and melting her insides.

He broke away, his breathing ragged. “I love kissing you, Tiny.”

She forced a smile while her heart lost its rhythm. “What, don’t like calling it face-latching?”

He laughed. “I love face-latching with you, Tiny.”

“How much longer before we reach Certorth?” She ran a fingertip along his smooth jawline.

“Three weeks,” he said though his tone had curiosity.

Then her life would change again. “Well, we have all that time to face-latch as much as you want.”

“Oh, I intend to every chance I get,” he said, drawing her closer.