“I’m sure she’s fine. She is probably safe in the storage room, busy looking at decorations,” L’Forn tries to assure me, but he is rising to his feet, visibly worried.
“You don’t know Trinh. She finds trouble wherever she goes,” I say, already turning and racing away.
Vorto is locked securely in a cell, but I don’t want Trinh anywhere near that foul being. I shudder to imagine what he might say, or if given a chance, do to her. As I sprint out of the office and run down the corridor back to the elevator, L’Forn and the rest of the council are racing directly behind me. I can hear L’Forn calling a team to meet us in the storage area to secure the floor.
When the elevator arrives, the whole group crams into the small space. I can barely contain my fear and frustration as the elevator slowly returns me to where I abandoned Trinh. How could I have done something so dangerous and thoughtless? I will never forgive myself if anything has happened to her.
Finally, the elevator arrives at the lowest floor of the ship. As soon as the doors start to slide open, I squeeze through the opening like I’m made of liquid.
I take a deep, slow breath, trying to catch Trinh’s scent on the air. Her melon fragrance is easy to discern among the other smells in this area. I run on silent feet, following her trail.
Tracing her path, I have to backtrack several times, meaning that Trinh must have gotten lost. Straining all of my senses, I hear a faint whisper ahead and around a corner.
When I turn the corner, my heart freezes. Trinh is pressed against one of the prison cell windows, talking to whoever is inside the locked room.
“Trinh!” I bellow, all of my fear and protective instincts making my voice louder than I intended.
I get a brief glimpse of Trinh’s shocked face as she whips her head in my direction, but I quickly sweep her into my arms and away from danger. Once we are around the corner, I set her down on her feet and start checking her for injuries. I know I am being illogical, but I have to make sure she is physically unharmed. There was no possibility of her being injured, but I am unable to stop myself.
“Are you okay? Did that piece of shit say anything wrong to you? I will rip his arms off if he upset you,” I state, nudging her face up towards mine with a gentle knuckle. I check her eyes to make sure she looks unharmed. She doesn’t have any tears in her eyes, just a look of bewilderment. I lean close and press my nose against her neck, checking her scent for fear or pain.
Chapter 10
Trinh
Several very awkward minutes later, Vorto calms down. It involves a whole lot of soft comforting sounds from me and wheezing sniffles from Vorto before he runs out of steam on his crying jag.
“Do you wanna talk about it?” I ask softly after he’s been quiet for a few minutes. I have no idea how to deal with a murderous alien lost in the throes of remorse. Helping my girlfriends get over shitty exes has not prepared me for this day. The image of taking Vorto to get mani-pedis and talk shit over margaritas has me hiding an inappropriate grin.
“I’ve done terrible things in service to my queen. I saw nothing wrong with making others suffer because I believed they were inconsequential, weak, and unworthy. How do I live with myself knowing what I’ve done?” Vorto whispers, pressing his face against the glass, staring at me with intense liquid-mercury eyes.
“I don’t know. Not gonna lie – it’s going be hard. But you have to figure out how to live with what you’ve done. Otherwise, you can’t work towards making amends, you know? You’re free of your horrible queen, so you have a chance that a lot of other Ostiums don’t.”
“How do I make amends? How do I fix what I have wrought?”
I have no idea what to advise Vorto. I’m just going to have to wing it. I open my mouth to respond when a roar to my right has me whipping my head around in shock. Before I can even react, I am swept off my feet and hauled around the corner from Vorto’s cell. It takes a moment for me to recognize the roaring, spitting-mad body that has snatched me up as L’Corte. His usually reserved and placid façade has cracked wide open, and I finally see what I’ve suspected lurks beneath.
He is babbling at me and patting me down like he’s searching for contraband. When L’Corte calls Vorto a “piece of shit”, I feel my mouth fall open in shock. Captain Formality usually sounds like he learned English from reading instruction manuals, and now he’s cussed twice in one day. I might be a bad influence. When he starts sniffing up and down my neck, I jolt in his tight grip. He trails his nose up under my ear, huffing me like a bloodhound on a scent trail. I have to push him away because I’m starting to have an inappropriate reaction to his touch.
“L’Corte, I’m fine,” I assure him. “Seriously, Vorto and I were just talking.”
“Just talking!” L’Corte screeches. “Do you have any idea just how dangerous he is? What were you thinking?!”
I cringe when L’Corte’s voice hits teakettle-whistle range. I’ve never seen him so freaked out. I need to calm him down before he has a stroke.
“I was looking for the storage room. I got lost and accidentally stumbled across his cell. I wasn’t planning on talking to him, but when I realized he was the one who hurt Sara and D’Annon, I lost my temper and started yelling at him. I didn’t expect he’d start crying and be so remorseful. What was I supposed to do? Leave him all alone crying in his cell?”
“Yes! That’s exactly what you should have done! You could have been in danger!”
“From a weeping guy locked securely in a prison cell?” I ask, with one eyebrow raised.
L’Corte makes an inarticulate sound of frustration and looks at me like he can’t decide if he wants to strangle me or hug me. I take the decision out of his hands by wrapping my arms around his waist. I catch him so off-guard that he freezes for a second, allowing me to wind my arms around him and snuggle in close. It feels vaguely like how I imagine cuddling with a tiger might feel – kinda scary, but oh so satisfying. After only the briefest of hesitations, L’Corte wraps his arms firmly around me with a soft sigh.
“I’m sorry I scared you,” I whisper to the underside of his chin. At my apology, L’Corte seems to almost deflate against me. Poor guy.
I slide my hand along the back of L’Corte’s uniform, clutching a small handful of his shirt at the base of his spine. My body softens against his as he clutches me tightly. This is nice. L’Corte is warm and firm against me. I feel an electric current bloom in my stomach as I rub my cheek against his solid chest.
“I’m just glad you’re safe. I’m sorry I left you down here alone. I put you in danger. If I’d been thinking clearly, I would have remembered that this floor occasionally houses dangerous individuals. I hope you can forgive me for the lapse in my judgment.”
