Page 38 of Master (The Outlander Book Club… in Space! #3)

Tarook.

I moved slowly through this forest this time. Each step carefully placed to make sure I didn't jostle Clara. Her heartbeat sounded heavy and strong, but she looked pale. Her arm bled profusely, and the side of her face appeared reddened and swollen.

I'd killed the bastards too quickly and not nearly painfully enough.

Her quiet sobbing calmed, but every so often, she would tremble, the motion accompanied by a shuddering sigh. In the moonlight, the splatter of Kerzak blood glowed a deep, eerie green, completely out of place on her pale skin and fair hair.

Behind us, Munroe led a stumbling, handcuffed Parlow. The mayor blathered constantly, his words barely registering until he made a mistake.

"Whatever that fucking bitch tells you… she's lying."

Carefully shifting to hold Clara safely with one arm, I balled my free hand and turned, driving my fist into the center of Parlow's face.

The bones under my knuckles gave a satisfying crunch, a gush of hot, red blood staining my fingers before pulling away.

The mayor squealed and landed on his ass in the dirt, clutching at his face.

Cradling Clara close, I glared down at the sniveling human. "If you refer to my mate again—if you even dare to look in her direction… I will kill you. Do you understand?"

Munroe chuckled while Parlow's head moved in a jerky nod, sending droplets of blood flying.

Whether or not he agreed to my ultimatum, I still intended to kill him…

slowly and painfully for his hand in what happened to Clara.

I'd let Munroe interrogate him first, but after getting what information we could from Parlow, I intended to gut the bastard…

slowly. For good measure, I bared my fangs at the mayor as he sopped at the blood pouring from his nose.

Clara's face lay buried in the curve of my shoulder. Faintly, so low I knew it was for my ears alone—she giggled.

Goddess, was there any female more perfect than her?

Deep in my soul, I recognized Clara as my true mate. Mine to cherish, mine to protect. Although I did a crappy job in the protection aspect tonight.

Bartholomeus and Munroe showed up just as I caught Kerzak's scent, following as I plowed through the darkness, my only thought getting to Clara.

When I came upon the clearing, the fury on her face… the courage she showed despite facing down a creature three times her size…. If my heart didn't already belong to her, it would have at that moment.

I held her tightly, expecting danger to jump from every shadow. There could be dozens of Kerzak on the planet…out of reach of my senses. I’d feel better about Clara’s safety once the Bardaga arrived.

As night descended upon the village, most of its residents had already retreated to their homes. The golden glow pouring out of Mei’s house served as a comforting beacon in the darkness.

Munroe veered off, taking Parlow to the local jail. He promised to check in later once he’d seen to the disposal of the dead Kerzak.

Bartholomeus and a young human male waited inside.

It didn't surprise me that the Romvesian beat us here.

While they didn't have the enhanced hearing or smell of a Vaktaire, the species proved impressively fast on a known path.

The human looked little older than Clara, and his dark brown eyes creased with concern as they swept over her.

"Oh my God, Clara, are you alright?" Mei gasped as I carried my mate into the small sitting room just off the kitchen. She stepped closer to Bartholomeus, his long gray arm resting protectively over her shoulders.

"I'm fine." The woman in my arms insisted, a wholly untrue statement. Her heartbeat might be strong and steady, but she was pale, her skin clammy to the touch. The shirt I'd tied around her arm in a makeshift bandage had soaked through, turning the fabric deep red.

A spacious green couch and two side chairs adorned with floral patterns furnished the sitting room.

I settled in the center of the sofa, thinking it would give the doctor better access to Clara.

No way in hell was I letting her out of my arms. Perched on my knee, she tried to sit up but swayed woozily.

"I'm Dr. Pritchett," the human male stepped nearer, pausing to meet my gaze in greeting and gain permission to approach my female. "Everyone calls me Doc."

I answered with a curt nod, and he went to his knees beside us, reaching for Clara's injured arm.

"What happened here?" he asked, unwrapping the shirt from her arm with the utmost care.

"Grizzly bear-looking creature, big teeth, you do the math," Clara quipped, trying to keep the mood light though her wince.

"Good Lord, don't tell me you tangled with a Kerzak!" Mei's tone scolded despite the worry plastering her face. She sank into one of the chairs, with Bartholomeus standing at her side.

"I wouldn't say tangled exactly." Pain twinged Clara's tone as Doc pulled the soaked fabric from her arm.

It was my first good look at her injury.

Just above the left wrist lay a circle of darkened skin as bruising developed.

Two deep puncture wounds surrounded by reddened skin marred the underside of her forearm.

I almost wished I hadn't killed the bastard that bit her with a single laser blast to the head—I'd like to have made him scream in agony before dying.

"You should have seen her." I boasted, grinning at the sly gaze Clara shot my way. "She was glorious standing up to the Kerzak and Parlow. As courageous as any warrior."

"The wound doesn't look too deep, but it nicked your ulnar artery, hence all the blood," Doc explained as he pulled a square, gray medi-unit from his bag. "I'll have you feeling better shortly."

He lifted the gadget, hovering it over her arm so a pale blue light glowed on the wound. Clara watched him carefully, a faint smile playing on her lips.

"Feels better already, doesn't it?" Mei asked with a grin.

"Looks like the thing Doc McCoy used on Star Trek." Clara’s voice sounded heartier.

"Right?" The human healer chuckled. "Alien medical technology is amazing. I can cure cancer with this little tool."

Clara stiffened in my arms, and I could see the faraway look in her eyes, which told me that her mind focused on another male.

Her husband died of the disease called cancer.

She still loved him… always would. I did not expect her to forget her husband.

Nor would I ask her to choose between her memories and the present.

As long as there was a part of her heart for me to reside, I felt content.

"You've got inch-and-a-half deep puncture wounds as well as a nasty sprain on your shoulder," Doc said, putting the gadget away and rummaging in his bag.

"I already treated the bruise and sprain with the Medi-unit and boosted your palettes to offset the blood loss.

As for the bite, Kerzak saliva, while not poisonous, carries potent bacteria.

I need to use healing foam inside the punctures and around the wound's edges. "

He pulled out a small black canister, and my stomach clenched. It was an aseptic foam that disinfected as well as healed. It worked well on injuries like this, healing quickly, but hurt like hell.

My hold involuntary tightened around Clara's waist as Doc prepared to treat the wound.

"This will sting a bit," he promised.

Are all healers alike? He sounded just like Hakkar, promising something would sting when the reality felt like sawing your skin apart with a rusty spoon.

Clara's magnificence stole my breath. She sat perfectly still, lips pressed together as Doc slathered the pale blue mint-scented foam on her arm, using a small tool to push the substance directly into the punctures.

The only hint of discomfort was a bead of sweat rolling down her temple.

I kissed the drop away, the salty taste lingering on my tongue.

"That should do it." Doc pressed a self-adhesive bandage to her arm before standing.

"Thanks," Clara watched, fascinated, as the edges of the bandage bubbled, creating an air-tight seal.

"You know the drill," Doc smiled down at Clara. "Lots of rest, plenty of liquids, and you'll be good as new in a few days."

"I already feel a lot better," she said, moving her arm experimentally.

Doc's smile faded—his gaze serious when it met mine.

"Make sure she gets lots of rest and plenty of liquids."

The doctor gave orders as good as any Chieftain. I gave a curt nod of agreement.

"I'll walk you back, Doc," Bartholomeus offered. "We think we got them all, but you can never be too safe."

As Mei and Bartholomeus walked the doctor out, we offered our goodbyes and thanks.

Clara sighed heavily as soon as we were alone, sagging against me.

"Sting my ass. That foam hurt like a bitch."

"I know." I agreed. "I've used it before."

Clara gave a hum in agreement and snugged against me.

I would cut off my own arm to save her pain, but I couldn't deny that this moment—the way she clung and looked to me for comfort—felt like bliss.

Mei bustled into the room, her dark eyes flickering over us before she gestured to the kitchen.

"I made beef stew and fresh bread."

"That sounds wonderful," Clara sighed. She glanced down at herself and frowned. Like me, dark green blood dotted her skin and garments.

I knew well what it felt like to be covered in the blood of one's enemy.

"Why don't we get you clean," I suggested, standing with one arm under Clara's bent knees and the other pressing her shoulders against my chest. "I can come back for food later."

"That sounds good." Clara agreed, laying her head against my shoulder.

"You two get washed up, and I'll bring a tray of food to the guest house,” our hostess offered.

"Thank you, Mei," I said. This human female didn’t stir my blood and loins as Clara did, but I liked her.

"Thanks, Mei," Clara called over my shoulder as I strode toward the doorway.