CHAPTERSEVEN
Maureen’s leg felt okay. Better than okay, actually, and as they trekked, whatever he had done to her leg seemed to spread from just the bruised area to her whole leg.
Naturally, she was still feeling the strain of both the hike and the pace they were maintaining—even after her fall Bodok was not playing when it came to covering ground—but it seemed far more doable now than before.
Maureen studied him as he led the way—his muscular body moving beneath the fabric of his clothing, the shifting bulges and shadows hinting at the sculpted physique she knew was hidden inside.
She had seen what was in there. Seeneverything, up close and personal at that. He was a powerful specimen, no doubt, with a delicious body, and that wasn’t even mentioning the impressive member hanging long and thick between his legs.
But something about him left her curious. He had explained the baffling power the pigments of his rune tattoos possessed, somehow enhancing aspects of his abilities, but the damage to them was substantial, with some swathes of his cobalt-blue skin entirely devoid of any markings at all.
“Hey, Bodok. I hope it’s not rude, and please tell me if I shouldn’t be asking, but I was wondering, what exactly happened to your tattoos?”
“They were damaged.”
“Right, I know that. And you explained how you heal really fast, but the scars, while faint, are still plentiful. And there are big patches of unmarked skin where it looks like you should have a continuation of your design.”
Bodok slowed his pace a little, allowing her to pull up next to him as they walked.
“It is not something I like to discuss,” he said. “But you are new to our ways.”
“Oh, crap. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. Forget I asked.”
“No, it is all right. I understand your curiosity, and your question does not offend me.”
They walked quietly side by side a moment. She could see him processing in his head, the gears turning as he figured how best to explain what had happened to him. Obviously, it wasn’t pleasant. Anything that leaves scars wouldn’t be. But his hesitation made her think it was something more.
“It was the Raxxians who gave me these scars,” he finally said. “Well, most of them, anyway. My kind heal quickly, so previous injuries that damaged my runes were simply repaired once the flesh had mended.”
“But the Raxxians wouldn’t let Heydar fix them?”
Bodok showed a tiny hint of surprise. “You met the Nimenni, have you? Beyond merely receiving your translation rune, I mean.”
“He was in my last holding compartment for a while. Seems pretty skilled with the whole tattooing thing.”
“He is. But the Raxxians would never allow he and I to interact.”
“Is there some kind of beef between your races?”
“Beef? I do not think this is translating properly.”
“Beef. Uh, problems. Conflict. Like, you two would fight if you met.”
“Ah, I see. No, there was nobeefbetween us.”
“Then what was the issue?”
“The Raxxians, brutal as they are, also know to sequester the more dangerous prisoners. The ones who might be able to convince others to rise up and take the ship. It is one of the reasons their transports have so many separate holding compartments.”
Maureen looked at him with a curious gaze. “Dangerous?”
“Not like that. But some of us hail from more intellectual worlds, and among us are more than a few tacticians. While we outnumbered them on their ship, we never had the opportunity to put that to our advantage.”
“Huh. I guess that makes sense.”
“It is unfortunate, but the way the Raxxians operate. I had encountered some of his men from time to time, but never Heydar himself.”
“But hey, now we’re free anyway.”
