Page 6 of Survivor (A Space Pearl’s Treat #2)

Lucy

“Who the hell are you, and what the fuck just happened?” I demanded, gritting my teeth against the need to tremble.

I needed to look tough. Of course, I couldn’t help the tears streaming down my cheeks at the thought of my guards.

Bloodied and broken bodies stacked up by the dumpster like yesterday’s trash.

His bright teal eyes regarded me with a mix of empathy and amusement. Great! My attempt at acting like a badass amused him. Better than the other dude who wanted to kill me, or worse, I supposed.

“As I told you before, my name is Vraxxan.”

He had told me that before, I remembered, but that was before everything went to shit.

“I only want to protect you,” he added, holding his hands up to show he meant to harm. Dark crimson blood smeared his palms, reminding me of the nasty chest wound the other guy inflicted on him. A wound he got trying to protect me. My grip on the blaster slackened somewhat.

“Protect me from who exactly?” I’d heard of catfishing.

I never experienced it, of course, but the TV had been full of shows about stupid women who gave their life savings and sometimes their lives to assholes pretending to be someone else.

Maybe this was just a ruse for him to spirit me away to God, knew what.

Yet, deep down, low in my gut was the most curious sensation that I could trust this guy.

“My mother,” he sighed and rubbed his hands over his face. “She was the one who sent Seibring to fetch you. She is determined to punish a human female for the death of my brother.”

“Your bro—brother?” I stammered, tightening my grip on the blaster as the trust sensation waffled somewhat. “Aren’t you upset about it, too?”

His bright teal eyes met mine, saddened to be sure but without the least hint of recrimination.

“I mourn the youngling I knew,” he said softly and oh so sadly. “Not the male. My brother possessed no honor.”

“Do you have honor?” Deep down, I already knew the answer to that. But I still wanted to hear it from his lips.

The corner of his mouth twitched upward, amusement dancing in his teal eyes. “I did save you.”

I huffed out an agreement.

“My only wish is to get you somewhere safe until the Alliance can intervene and stop my mother.”

I knew about the Alliance, of course. They just recently ordained that Earth was under protectorate status and that enslaving or harming humans was illegal. Pearl and her mate Jutuk worked closely with the Alliance, as did my other bosses, Jala and Praxxan.

I studied Vraxxan warily, letting my trigger finger relax. He had protected me and earned a nasty gash to show for it. There was a moment, right before he told me to run, that I thought he might be willing to die for me. My guards had. I blinked away another wash of tears.

“Where are you taking me? The Alliance? The Ardeese Valout? Tau Ceti?” I knew any of those places were a haven for humans such as me.

Vraxxan gave a worried sigh, his expression troubled. I should not be thinking about how handsome I found him, but I didn’t seem to be able to help myself.

As a teenage girl confined to a cancer ward, my tumultuous, hormone-driven years unfolded within the pages of romance novels and the melodramatic scenes of Lifetime movies.

Although I had developed a fleeting crush on a doctor or two, my imagination often drifted to the allure of the strong, silent types—firemen with soot-streaked faces and brave soldiers in rugged uniforms—or hot, muscular aliens from distant galaxies who saved my life.

I drew in a deep breath, trying to corral my lascivious thoughts, only to suck in a lungful of his scent.

Vraxxan smelled like the ocean—at least what I imagined the ocean to smell like: all sun and salt and sea.

“No, we do not travel to any of those places.” Vraxxan scrutinized me intently as he spoke, his gaze searching, as though he anticipated his words might provoke a reaction.

“I want to take you somewhere my mother can’t find you.

” He expelled a deep breath with a faint growl at the end.

“As you saw, Seibring is a shapeshifter who can take the form of anyone he touches. So is my mother. You’ll be safer somewhere without many others around.

A place where we can control who comes near you.

” He drew in a deep breath, his teal eyes finding and holding mine.

“I know of such a place if you trust me.”

Trust him. How many times had I heard that before?

This will only hurt for a minute, trust me.

This will make you feel better, trust me.

This will help you get into remission, trust me.

Promises filled my life, each demanding one thing from me. Trust.

Doctors and nurses had poked and prodded me, urging me to trust their judgment, even when I screamed in pain. My parents had subjected me to rounds of chemo and radiation, holding my hand as I barfed my guts out in the aftermath with one sole promise. Trust me, this is for the best.

Yet, in the end, I died anyway.

Vraxxan was the first person who asked for trust and was willing to suffer to earn it. I watched as a solitary drop of dark blood slowly wound its way down his chest, weaving a path that was starkly visible through the tear in his vest.

I sighed, letting the blaster drop to my side. Besides, even if I shot him then what? I knew shit about flying a spaceship.

“Well, you did get stabbed for me. I supposed that deserves a little trust.”

“Thank you,” he said with the utmost sincerity. He engaged the autopilot and went to rise, a grimace of pain slicing across his features.

“You stay put.” I waved off his attempt to move. “I’ll go find some first aid supplies.”

“There should be some in the cabinet there.” A tilt of his head indicated a row of sleek white cabinets to my left.

“How can you tell?” I wondered, even as I followed his lead.

“Because of the symbol. The red one.”

The only red symbol I saw looked like a deranged spider. Who was I to question? Earth’s medical symbol had a snake on it. I’d take a spider over a snake any day.

Inside the cabinet, I discovered a compact kit filled with various bandages and a sleek, silver medi-unit.

I was familiar with the device. Back at the Space Pearls location on the Ardeese Valout, the chef frequently flirted with disaster, often nearly severing a finger or two amid culinary creation.

With the kit securely in hand, I made my way back to Vraxxan’s side.

Oddly enough, all those hours spent in the hospital had made me a fairly decent hand at first aid.

The medi-unit emitted a soft, soothing hum as its blue light swept across the deep gash that stretched from one side of Vraxxan’s broad chest to the other.

Gradually, the relentless bleeding slowed, eventually ceasing altogether.

I reached for the alien version of gauze, reminded of its resemblance to a sturdier cotton pad and picked up the cleaning solution.

His vest, now a tattered ruin, slid off his shoulders with a casual shrug, unveiling the expansive muscular terrain beneath.

My fingers trembled as I tended him, and I felt the warmth and softness of his scales ripple under my touch.

Vraxxan sat silently, his teal eyes like pools of liquid light, casting a mesmerizing wash over my skin, sending shivers dancing across its surface.

His gaze narrowed sharply as my hands moved over the section of his chest where the inky black scales transitioned into vibrant shades of purple and teal.

The colors shimmered under the light, reflecting a spectrum of hues that seemed almost ethereal.

“Are you the same as Seibring?” I asked, my voice tinged with curiosity. Seibring’s appearance had been stark and monochrome, his scales a deep black that absorbed the light rather than reflecting it.

“Yes, I am Zarpazian,” he replied, his voice a rich, resonant timbre.

“And can you shapeshift like he can?” I inquired further, intrigued by the possibilities.

“No.” A shadow of shame flickered across his expression. “Only Zarpazians who can shift their scales to all-black have the power to shapeshift.”

I couldn’t help but reach out, my fingers brushing gently along the seamless division of colors that adorned his skin. “Your scales are beautiful.”

“Thank you,” he muttered, his voice thick with emotion. “On my home world, multicolored scales like mine are considered shameful.”

“Well, that’s silly,” I retorted with a dismissive roll of my eyes.

“Your scales are far more appealing than the other guy.” Seibring reminded me of the menacing cartoon character, Venom.

But Vraxxan’s scales were a tapestry of colors, each hue blending into the next, creating a painting that was anything but frightening.

Vraxxan remained silent as I finished cleaning and bandaging his wound.

I was secretly relieved by the lack of conversation, aware that any attempt at speech might betray how flustered he made me.

Each touch of my fingers on his skin sent a shiver through me that I preferred not to think about at the moment.

Vraxxan watched every touch of my hands against his chest, now and again raising his teal eyes to mine, curious and intent, like he was trying to figure out a puzzle.

“All done,” I announced, packing away my leftover supplies.

“Thank you.” Vraxxan’s fingertips skimmed along the edge of the bandage, a faint smile playing on his features.

I stowed the medical supplies back in the cabinet marked with the red spider and turned back to my rescuer, suddenly feeling awkward. I’d read a book like this once, where a handsome alien rescued an abducted human. Of course, by this part in the story, they’d been fucking.

Thankfully, Vraxxan hadn’t read the same book. His mind ran along more mundane matters.

“Are you hungry?”