Xivthar turned to follow her, wishing like hell that she was back in his arms. He longed to provide some kind of comfort for her. Having an entire planet of aliens you hadn't known existed crying out for your blood could be a bit overwhelming, but she was strong.
It didn't take long for her confidence to return, even as they approached the place where she'd been held prisoner and tormented.
"You know," she said, not bothering to turn to face him as she walked, "I don't understand why you want to talk to this scientist again. What can he know that he didn't already blurt out when you were threatening to feed him to the... what did you call them again... gwarsharks?"
"Gnarsharks."
A memory of Sylvie strapped to the metal table, the scientist cutting off her clothing while giggling to himself, flashed through his mind and he fought to remain calm.If I'm going to get anything out of Jark'Khal, I'll have to be methodical. No going yellow, and no violence.
Even ifnotpunching the man would be one of the hardest things he'd ever had to do.
The tautness in his guts grew stronger. The thought of another man's hands on his female, it almost made his insides ache. He had to work extremely hard to push his ire away and answer her.
"I expect to determine whether he had any involvement with the Hareema. He was awfully eager to cut you up. Maybe you were the distraction the Hareema used to sneak into our ranks, or maybe he was charged with getting you out of the way. Maybe the dissection would tie up the loose end."
"That's an awful lot of maybes." She glanced over her shoulder at him.
He nodded, again making note of her intelligence. She didn't miss much and even saw things that he overlooked. It was stimulating, being in her presence. In many more ways than was appropriate.
Sylvie's expression tightened. "I think he had another reason to want to cut me up."
She shivered, and Xivthar wanted to embrace her. Any reason to have his hands on her seemed like a good reason, though it was more than the physical attraction. His stomach fluttered with the beating of butterfly wings and he moved himself from the dastardly hope that something might become of them.
Her remark brought up the memory of that bastard Jark'Khal going purple, and the regent struggled to keep his cool.Punching's too good for the eel-skinned pervert.
He glanced at the female beside him. The look on her face was pensive, the memory obviously playing through her mind as well. Her green eyes were narrow, her features tough as if she had forced herself to be tougher for the upcoming encounter.
Maybe I'll let her have him.She looks meaner than the gnarsharks.
