After the intense fight, silent as it had been, the calm that followed felt wrong. Empty. I stared intensely at each broken, burned piece that lay scattered around me, partially on the walls and ceiling like splashes of black paint, and in bigger, heavier pieces along the floor. A husk of blackened, skin-like material remained of the gruesome shape of the exploding sack of acid, and curled ribbons of black were all that was left of its tentacles.
The energy field behind me hissed as it disengaged, and I slowly tilted my head to glance at Ysa over my shoulder. “Is it dead?” she whispered, as impressed by the fight as I was by its aftermath. Pain scorched my skin along my collarbone and shoulders, where the acid had eaten through my armor, but it was a painI could manage.
“What does your scanner indicate?” I asked. As much as I’d like to believe I’d defeated it, we wouldn’t know for sure. If this thing could split itself into multiple pieces, and I was pretty sure I’d seen that during the fight… IthoughtI’d shot the piece that had tried to escape, but if that was it, it might have sacrificed part of itself as a distraction. How much of this thing needed to survive to start over?
“They’re not picking up anything right now. I think it’s finally dead, Thatch. It’s over.” Ysa didn’t sound nearly as happy about that as I thought she would. Turning in the narrow space, I tucked away my knife but held onto the pistol just in case. Then I met her pretty, sapphire-blue eyes and let myself drown in their depths.
Chapter 12
Ysathea
Thatcher was a madman, seriously. He’d thrown himself into that fight with no care for his own safety. Stars, he’d actually taken the brunt of that acid attack to protect me. How had I ever doubted that he cared about me? This male cared far too much and far too little about his own life. I wasn’t going to let that stand, not on my watch.
I didn’t believe the entity was really dead, either. It was just… anticlimactic somehow. I’d believe it when theVarakartoomran flawlessly again for a couple of months. For now, though, all that mattered was getting Thatcher back out of this narrow passage and to the med bay. There wasn’t enough cleansing agent in my engine room to take care of the nasty chemical burns that covered much of his shoulders, chest, and upper arms. It had eaten through much of hisarmor in those places and was happily burrowing into his skin, too.
He followed me as I began scooting backward, as silent and stoic as always. I wanted to poke at him, tell him it was okay to let me know that these injuries hurt, but I wasn’t even all that sure he noticed them. The scent that clung to both of us and hung heavily in the air was noxious, a bit sulfuric. Possibly poisonous. We should get out of it, too, and Thatcher seemed to have the same idea.
When I didn’t move fast enough for his taste, he pressed one big hand against the small of my back. A nice little shove that had me scoot a couple of feet across the metal floor. I thought he’d have to catch up, but he stayed right behind me, moving far too easily through the narrow space for a male his size. We reached the hatch in record time, for which I was grateful. Thatcher wasn’t going to take care of himself and head to med bay, so I’d go myself, and he’d follow. He always followed.
“Thank you, Thatcher,” I flapped out. “I haven’t been grateful, or nice to you, when you followed me around—when all you wanted to do was keep me safe. I should have known you were watching out for me, that you weren’t being a creepy stalker.” There, I’d said it, and I meant it. As much as it had chafed and annoyed me that he was always there, hehadbeen protecting me. It was time I admitted that. Not just that, I’d been so frustrated because I thought he’d been doing something bad, which meant I couldn’t allow myself to be attracted.
I unfurled from the hatch and rose to my feet, my toes wriggling inside my boots as I appreciated being back in a well-lit corridor. On solid ground, sort of. That fight hadbeen brutal. More proof that the thing I’d been trying to locate for months was dangerous, very dangerous. Nobody had seen that except Thatcher. Everyone, myself included, had thought it was a simple malfunction.
The human male unfolded himself carefully from the narrow maintenance passage. His long body was far too big to have easily fit inside it, yet he hadn’t appeared to struggle in the narrow space, not at all. His shoulders and upper chest were a patchy mess, but his expression was stoic, unreadable even. He wore his long hair loose about his shoulders, and I liked that look. Liked that he grew it long, like a Ulinial male would. He raised his hand, I thought to touch the wound along his collarbone, but he lifted it higher. Scratching the back of his head, I realized he looked bothered, and his glare was cutting because of it.
“Yeah, see, the thing is…” Whoa, I’d never heard him sound so uncertain, and he was actually talking back to me too. Another surprise. I straightened, and an unsettled feeling tingled through my stomach. My hand found the end of my braid and clenched tightly around the soft strands and firm wooden beads.
Thatcher continued with a much firmer tone, and his dark brown eyes locked on my face. “Iwasstalking you, Ysa. And I’m not going to stop… I sensed danger, and I turned out to be right, but I didn’t know that for sure when I started.” My mouth dropped open in surprise because this was the last thing I expected him to admit. What he said next was even more unexpected, and I froze. “I am a broken man, Ysa. So broken that I’m no good to you, but Iwant you anyway.”
He took a step, bringing us close together. His body was so big next to mine that he towered over me, loomed, but it didn’t feel threatening. I felt safe. I always felt safe around him, which was crazy when I thought about it. Thatcher was the male everyone warned the females on the ship to stay away from. Solear was dangerous, but he was never without Aramon, who could keep him in check. Thatcher, he was angry, bitter, tortured, and he listened only to the captain and his second-in-command. He definitely didn’t listen to me.
Raising his hand, he moved so slowly, his eyes searching my face. I thought he might be testing to see if I’d move away after that revelation, but I was still caught in indecision. If even he admitted his behavior had crossed a line, what was I supposed to think or do? My mind flashed again to that empty cot of his, and the care he’d shown me as he hauled me from the engine room. Was it wrong? Perhaps, but it was also… kind, caring. He’d protected me at my lowest point, and never mentioned my little crying breakdown, even though I knew he had to have heard it.
His hand cupped the side of my face, thumb against my temple, palm nudging my chin. My face tipped up, his came down, and then he kissed me. That definitely felt right; it felt very right. Like on the bridge, I wanted that kiss to last, and last. I raised my hands to cling to his shoulders, then, at the last moment, remembered he was injured and jerked back.
It broke the moment, ending the kiss. A soft kiss, without tongue but full of tenderness and promises. Thatcher’s eyes burned into mine, his expression so grim it made my chest ache. “I’m not any good, Ysa. You can’t fix me. I’ve forgotten how I’m supposed to treat a woman, how to court like a saneman. I just know that I want to protect you, that’s all I can offer. To keep you safe.”
Ah damn it, why did that make my eyes sting? He thought so little of his abilities, of himself, and the saddest part was that most people would probably agree with him. Hewasdangerous, and it was making all the females on the ship uneasy. I’d had another couple of messages from various ladies asking me if I was okay or needed help. Like they thought the way he’d followed me around and tried to scare off any male that came near me had scared me into making that move on the bridge. I bit my lower lip, hard, too, because it stung. What did they know? They hadn’t seen his cot, the emptiness in his life, had they?
“You know, I think your protection might just be enough for me,” I said. “I know I don’t need to fix you, Thatcher. You’re a grumpy ass but I kind of like that.” At least, that’s what I hoped. Rising on my toes, I pressed my mouth to his again, just a quick, chaste kiss this time. It was a promise, though, that I’d try to be his, that I’d try to accept the hovering, the overbearing protectiveness.
A coughing noise abruptly made me aware that we were not alone. Of course, Thatcher appeared not the least bit surprised. He’d probably known we had company all along. I had to shift my weight to peer around my human’s shoulder, and even then he shifted with me, instinctively trying to block my view.
It was Raukesh, standing some distance away in the middle of the hallway. Damn it, another male now following me around, though this one was acting under orders. “I appear to have two stalkers now, Thatch.Your doing?” I said, half-joking, half as a complaint, but I should have known that would backfire.
Thatcher’s head snapped around, and I was certain he was glaring fiercely at Raukesh. The Tarkan male shifted protectively into his battle-form and snapped his wings tightly against his spine. Then Thatcher lunged forward with a growl that rattled the walls. My reflexes were thankfully fast, and I managed to catch him around the waist with both arms, clinging to his back like a scared Riho. “No! Don’t!”
My feet dragged along the ground; my weight barely doing anything to slow Thatcher’s attack. Raukesh leaped back with a shout of warning and the rustling of his massive wings. Thatcher had warned me he was a hot mess, and he wasn’t wrong. I’d said something stupid, and it had set him off like I’d poured petrol on a fire. I knew what had happened too, and I feared for Raukesh’s life. Thatcher had shredded through another Tarkan’s battle-form before; it wasn’t going to protect him.
“I’m safe, he’s not a rival! Damn it, Thatcher! Don’t fight, please. You’re hurt, remember?” He did not remember that, dragging me across the floor with him, my boots skidding with a squeak. “Thatcher, you should take me to the med bay right now,” I tried, a last resort but a tactic that worked. I didn’t mean to scare him, but the demand made him freeze, then turn to look at me. He paled, eyes going horrified, and I realized he thought he’d hurt me. “No, you’re the one hurt, not me,” I said.
Behind Thatcher, Raukesh took that moment of distraction to flee the scene. He half flew, half ran on both hands and feet in that unique way the Tarkan had, skidded around a corner, and disappeared from sight. Thatcher paidno attention at all, his eyes locked on me. Very slowly, I released my arms from around his waist and circled around him. “See? Unhurt. You were just protecting me, Thatch. Now come on, med bay, this instant.”
I didn’t think that would work if he thought I was unhurt, but he slowly moved. He let me take his hand, and just like that, I was guiding him through the hallways like a lost animal. He was silent, the guilt he felt hanging heavily in the air, but a part of me was relieved. Even as his temper had gotten hold of him, he’d listened to me. I’d found the way to reach him; there was hope yet.
Chapter 13
Ysathea
