Page 21 of Healer (The Outlander Book Club… in Space! #4)
Despite the humid heat of a few hours ago, a faint chill settled in the air as night fell deeper.
I arranged the fur like a cape, the piece so big it covered my head and body completely.
Glancing up for Hakkar’s approval, he smiled, bending over to kiss me soundly before arranging the edges of the fur to better hide my face.
“Stay as silent as possible,” Hakkar admonished, taking my hand.
I nodded, my shoulders growing tight with worry. We hurried across the open field, tall grass rustling more from the breeze than our steps. It took only a few minutes to reach the first ramshackle building. I held my breath as we crept deeper into the settlement.
Hakkar kept us to the shadows, side streets, and alleyways as much as possible.
Passing building after building, one thing struck me as both odd and familiar.
The shops of the settlement weren’t that different from those on Earth.
Granted, the buildings were more akin to something you’d find in the old west instead of Madison Avenue, but the wares they carried, although a bit more rustic, echoed the shops of Earth.
Clothes, food, leatherwork, metalwork, and what appeared to be a primitive technology store.
Although I suspected what looked like junk from the outside was far more advanced than anything on Earth.
The streets were deserted. Only one out of every six lanterns flickered with a dull flame. The air felt thick, with a miasma containing remnants of the day—unwashed alien, cooking meat, and some kind of bitter ale.
Slipping into a side alley, Hakkar jerked me to a stop when a door slung open in front of us.
A tall, blue alien with black tentacles for hair stumbled out from what reminded me of the cantina from the Star Wars movie.
Beady, glowing green eyes swept over us, narrowing briefly before rolling completely back into his head.
The alien’s drunken slide down the wall was so familiar that I had to clamp a hand over my mouth to keep from laughing.
The only other being we came across—a short, squat bald creature with large white eyes and a square nose-less face thankfully seemed more concerned with locking up his shop for the night instead of passersby.
This wasn’t a big village, not even a quarter the size of my hometown.
Still, moving so stealthily, it seemed to take forever to travel the dark streets.
Finally, we stopped outside what appeared to be a small clothing shop.
Like the other buildings—wood and metal comprised its construction, with the front door made of thick steel, which seemed oddly out of place.
Hakkar scanned his comm unit over the locking mechanism, and the door opened with a loud click.
Shock replaced relief as I stepped inside.
The outside might appear dilapidated, but luxury appointed the inside of the shop with sumptuous fabrics, accessories blinged to the max, and something similar to jasmine scenting the air.
My gasp of surprise ended, tinged with horror, as something whizzed by Hakkar’s head, stabbing into the wooden door frame with a resounding thud.
Hakkar glanced at the blade, still wavering from impact, with more aggravation than concern.
“Siereita,” he hissed, pulling the blade from its perch.
The creature emerging from the back of the shop literally took my breath away, and not because she held a laser blaster trained at my head.
Statuesque and lithe, her pale lavender skin was utterly flawless, as were the dark green ringlets piled atop her head in a style that reminded me of portraits of Marie Antoinette.
Her bright green eyes caught upon Hakkar, and full purple lips curved in appreciation.
She moved closer, the rustle of her deep red gown reminding me of silk, a beautiful garment despite the wide “ V” at the front, which exposed her breasts—all six of them.
I’d always been quite happy with my God-given endowment in that area. But standing next to her with my chest completely unsupported in my Wilma Flintstone ensemble, I had to admit—I looked rather inferior.
“You are Vaktaire?” She practically purred. Jealously reared inside me as deep green as her hair.
“My name is Hakkar, healer of the Bardaga and friend to Siemba and Dixa,” Hakkar told her, flipping the knife in his hand and handing it back to her hilt first.
A faint smile crossed her lips as the female relaxed. She took the blade from Hakkar and deposited her blaster atop a nearby counter.
“I received a message from Siemba to expect contact from a Vaktaire and... Her eyes roamed over me, completely unimpressed. “A human.”
“I rescued this human from an Ulkommanian research facility,” Hakkar said, as though that fact alone should earn me the female’s respect.
Siereita’s shoulders shifted. Whether from relief or resignation, I couldn’t tell. “I will relay a message to the Bardaga that you have arrived.” She turned toward the rear of the shop, gesturing with a graceful wave. “Come. You look in need of rest.”
Silently, we followed her from the shop and into a storage room, where she bent, grabbing what looked to be a thick fur rug, jerking it upward to reveal a trapdoor underneath.
We followed her through the trapdoor and down a narrow stairwell.
It amazed me how someone Hakkar’s size moved so gracefully in such a small, cramped area.
The area below consisted of a long, narrow hallway with a series of rooms on either side, which suggested that perhaps we weren’t the first to seek refuge here.
Siereita led us to a room at the end of the hall, swinging the door open to a sparsely furnished but clean bedroom.
A door beside the bed led to a bathroom boasting a deep metal tub.
“Thank you,” I breathed, practically giddy at the prospect of being able to take an actual bath.
Siereita stopped, looking down her long... and surprisingly human-shaped nose at me.
“You are very small and ugly.”
“Um, okay.” From her tone of voice, I didn’t think she meant to be insulting. She only stated what she saw as fact. Beside me, I felt Hakkar quiver with amusement or anger, so I decided to be the bigger person. “My name is Agnes. It’s nice to meet you.”
“Ack-ness?” A voice that would have made a good phone sex operator stumbled over my name.
Seriously?
“Close enough,” I offered, forcing the corners of my lips upward.
“Clean yourself and rest,” Siereita’s long fingers gestured about the room. “I will bring you food.” Another long stare down her nose at me as she added, “And clothing.”
“Are you sure we can trust her?” I waited until I heard the thud of the trap door closing to ask. Siereita’s hearing could be as good as Hakkar’s, and I didn’t want to take any chances.
“Yes.” Hakkar sat on the bed, testing the mattress. “She has worked with Siemba for a long time and my Chieftain vouches for her honesty. Do you not think she is trustworthy?”
“I get the feeling she’s not all that impressed with humans,” I muttered, moving to sit beside him. The mattress felt overly soft for my taste but beat the hell out of sleeping on the ground.
Hakkar pulled me close, pressing his lips to my temple.
“I don’t need to trust Siereita,” I said on the heels of a contented sigh. “Because I trust you.”
I did trust him. More than I’d ever trusted anyone. More than my ex-husband, more than the doctors I hoped could keep me functioning and alive just a little longer. More than anyone.
Hakkar shifted us to lie back on the mattress, resting on his elbow, so he propped above me looking like a gorgeous Greek god of old.
“I will never let anyone or anything hurt you again, my Aggie.” He murmured. The words were more than a promise. It was his vow.
“I know,” I whispered. The confession of love lay thick on my tongue, but I swallowed it. Not yet.
“My Aggie,” Hakkar whispered, brushing the hair from my face with a gentle touch that he followed with kisses.
I could give him this. I would give him this because whether he healed me, whether in sickness or in health, whether together or apart, this truth remained unchanged.
“Yours.”
His gaze lingered on me for what felt like an eternity, his eyes scanning every inch of my face as if he was trying to commit it to memory. The intensity in his expression was almost palpable, and I couldn’t help but feel a rush of nerves flutter through my stomach.
Hakkar's movements were slow and deliberate as he leaned in to kiss me.
His firm lips brushed lightly against mine, causing a pleasant tingling sensation that spread through my body.
With gentle precision, his fingers traced along the fabric of my dress until they found the toggle at my shoulder.
With a flick of his fingers, the Wilma Flintstone dress fell away from my body, tossed onto the floor in a heap.
“Tell me what you want, my Aggie.”
As he spoke, his thumb circled my nipple in a slow, teasing motion.
I gasped and squirmed under his hands, my body responding to each pinch and caress.
His mouth followed the path of his fingers, moving lower and lower until his lips closed around my nipple, sucking, and biting gently.
My body arched towards him, craving more as his hands roamed over my waist and hips, exploring every curve.
“You. I want you.” I managed to rasp.
I felt his lips curl into a smug smile against my skin as he continued to kiss his way down my stomach, and lower still, leaving a trail of hot kisses and tiny bites on my inner thighs. My muscles quivered and I felt my wetness against his tongue as he began teasing me with gentle licks.
God, what this man could do to my body!
I moaned, knowing myself beyond coherent speech, begging for more with the lift of my hips off the bed, offering myself fully.
“You smell so delicious,” he murmured, nose nuzzling at the small patch of hair at the juncture of my thighs. “And you taste even better.”