"He thought I was in danger... from the storm?" Harper's delicate features arranged into an expression of confusion, her head tilting slightly to one side in a gesture that was utterly endearing.
I nodded, my jaw tight. My gut told me the males outside were watching her house, but as of yet, I had no proof, nothing concrete to justify the alarm bells clanging in my mind.
"Your brother is so sweet to worry about me," she smiled, and the expression transformed her face into something luminous. Color bloomed across her cheeks in a rosy flush that made me wonder what other things might make her blush. "But it really wasn't necessary for him to send you all the way out here."
"The upcoming storm is dangerous," I agreed, my voice dropping into the authoritative tone I used with my warriors. We didn't have hurricanes in space, but there were many other dangers.
"Where is Xytol?" she asked, the wariness on her face slowly fading. "He's in Europe, right?"
I'd learned about the concept of Europe from my Earth studies. "Yes, he is far away." I couldn't tell her that I still didn't know where my brother was being held. Not yet. Not until she was safe.
"I knew it," she breathed, her full lips curving into a smile. "I'm so glad you two found each other again. He talked about you all the time."
"I talked about him, too. I never stopped searching for him." During my years trapped in Nansar's gladiator pit, I'd spoken with anyone who would listen about Xytol—guards, fellow fighters, even merchants who passed through. Hoping against hope for even the smallest whisper of news about him. Even after I'd been liberated and appointed War Chief aboard theHistoria, I searched every dusty planet and crowded space station we visited, chasing rumors and questioning strangers for any trace of my brother.
Outside, the wind continued to build, howling around the corners of the house. I noticed her eyes drift to the window, to the shutters that hung half open and banged rhythmically against the exterior wall, the hinges protesting with each gust of wind.
"Would you like help with those?" I asked, already moving toward the task.
She looked at me, and a smile touched those full, pink lips, making my breath catch in my chest and my heart skip a beat. "You don't have to...." she began, then grinned on the heels of a resigned sigh. "I could use some help. The storm slipped up on me quicker than I expected."
I moved toward the windows, making easy work of closing the interior shutters. I would need to go outside and shutthe external shutters as well, but I hesitated, not wanting my presence noted by the males in the waiting vehicles.
"I know Xytol works in IT, but what do you do?" Harper asked as she busied herself in the kitchen, her movements efficient and quick. She stashed items in cabinets, securing loose objects and tucking away others, and engaged the small latches that would keep everything inside safe from the storm.
"I work on a ship," I said, the words inadequate to describe my role as war chief. Maddie had cautioned me, explaining that often less information was more.
"A sailor," she said, her eyes twinkling.
"Something like that," I agreed, understanding the translation of the word.
"Is Xytol as big as you?" She asked, then blushed, the color spreading from her cheeks down her neck in a way that made me want to trace the path of color with my fingers. "I mean, you are awfully tall."
"No," I said simply, not sure whether I should be pleased or appalled by her mention of my height. "My brother has always been smaller. He was a scholar, while I was meant for physical labor." The understatement felt almost laughable. Xytol, with his brilliant mind and slight frame. Me, with my warrior's build designed for combat.
"Are you staying nearby?" She asked, her tone casual but her eyes searched my face with an intensity that suggested she was more perceptive than she let on. "Somewhere inland, I hope, to get out of the path of the hurricane."
"Yes," I said, the single word carrying more weight than she could know. "My ship is near."
"A ship," her eyes flashed wider. "I hope it survives the storm okay."
"It will be fine," I assured her. "I have it moored in a safe location." It wasn't a complete lie. The shuttle waited,cloaked and secure. The question was, how did I get her there? My hand slipped into my pocket, fingers brushing against the small syringe stashed there. My contingency plan. Just enough sedative to render her unconscious so that I could carry her to the shuttle without resistance. But I didn't want to use it. After meeting her, I didn't want to do anything that might shatter Harper's trust in me. I didn't want her to fear me, to see me as a threat rather than a protector.
I opened my mouth to ask about her plans to weather the storm when the lights died with an audible click, plunging us into darkness.
Harper let out a small yelp of surprise, followed by an aggravated huff that would have been endearing under different circumstances. "Shit! I thought I'd have more time. It's not even raining that hard yet."
I moved to the window, my instincts prickling with suspicion as I peered through a crack in the shutters. The neighboring houses, though boarded up and abandoned, still had their security lights glowing steadily in the gathering gloom. Only Harper's house sat in darkness, isolated and vulnerable. "The storm didn't cause the outage," I said, my voice dropping to the low register.
"What do you mean?" Harper asked, her footsteps soft against the hardwood as she moved closer to a nearby window. I heard the sharp, sudden intake of breath as she spotted the glare of lights gleaming against the rain-soaked street.
"Harper, please move away from the window," I insisted, my voice urgent, already positioning myself between her and the potential threat.
"Why?" The single word came out breathless, thin with the first threads of genuine fear. I could hear her heart rate accelerating, could smell the sharp spike of adrenaline beginning to flood her system.
"Because I'm afraid what my brother was worried about is about to happen."
Chapter 4
