The Akseli, page 20
Kova spoke. “It’s clear. No trackers, explosives, or recording devices.”
Nodding, Janwar waited for the scarred male to join them, then crossed his arms over his chest and studied Simone expectantly.
The others followed his example.
“What?” she asked, some imp driving her to tease them. “Do I have something on my face?”
“Actually, yes,” Kova said softly, surprising her, and touched a finger to his cheek. “You have some blood right here.”
Since she hadn’t let the Dotharian score any hits, she assumed the blood was the beast’s. “Ew. Gross.” Raising an arm, she scrubbed at her face with a sleeve.
Janwar sighed and rolled his eyes. “Simone.”
“Yes?”
“Tell us how you did it.”
Krigara nodded. “How did you defeat the Dotharian?”
Elchan grinned. “It sure as bura wasn’t with a fart.”
She laughed. “Okay, but first… please, tell me one of you recorded the battle.”
“I recorded it,” T said, his voice coming from a speaker in the ceiling.
She glanced up. “You did? How? You weren’t even there.”
“I tapped into the arena’s surveillance feed.”
Simone grinned. “Brilliant! Can I see it?”
Janwar sighed. “Simone.”
“Oh. Right. You asked how I defeated it.” She shrugged. “I’m an empath.”
His brows furrowed. “You can sense others’ emotions?”
“Yes.”
Krigara shook his head. “How did that help you? I thought the creature’s emotions were obvious.”
Again, she laughed. “I’m an older empath. Younger empaths on Earth can only feel the emotions of others and often have to touch them to do so. Older empaths like me can feel the emotions of others from a distance. But we can go a step further, seize control of those emotions, and manipulate them to our advantage, which is what I did today. I dampened the Dotharian’s fury and bloodlust and filled it with fear.”
The men shared a glance.
“What?” she asked. “You don’t believe me?”
Krigara spoke slowly. “We’ve never encountered an empath who could do such.”
Soval nodded. “They can only read emotions, not alter them.”
Simone performed a quick scan of their emotions. Krigara, Soval, Elchan, and Srok’a were skeptical. Kova seemed intrigued. And Janwar believed her, exuding no doubt whatsoever.
She rewarded him with a smile. “Shall I show them?”
His lips twitched. “Please do.”
Concentrating, she filled the four skeptics with the same fear she had infused the beast with and didn’t have to wait nearly as long for a reaction.
Eyes widening, they sucked in sharp breaths. Their hearts began to pound franticly in their chests. Their hands began to shake.
“What the drek?” Krigara blurted.
Janwar grinned.
Kova’s lips twitched as he watched the others stumble backward, looking as if they wanted to bolt.
Simone shut off the fear and fed the men humor. Within seconds, the four were stumbling around, laughing so hard their eyes watered.
“Drek, that’s a powerful gift,” Janwar breathed, grinning over the men’s antics as guffaws doubled them over.
But Simone’s gaze was drawn to Kova, who—instead of being amused at his friends’ antics—exuded envy.
She studied the scars that adorned his face and muscular body, considered his perpetually somber countenance and quiet reserve, and didn’t have to ask to know he’d had a hard life.
Had Kova never experienced joy like this? Was that why he envied them?
“All right. That’s enough,” Janwar declared.
Simone reined in her gift.
The four men sighed and wiped their eyes.
Janwar shook his head. “Is that why Pulcra shifted so quickly from wanting to strangle you to trying to arrange another match?”
“Yes. Full disclosure, I did consider feeding him to the Dotharian.” She’d been furious when the bastard had looked as if he intended to renege on his deal and order his guards to kill Janwar. “That would’ve been a nice bit of poetic justice. But I thought he may be of use to you in the future, so I coaxed him into a more amenable mood instead.”
Janwar grunted. “If we didn’t need the information, I might’ve preferred the first.” Then he turned to Kova. “Think you can keep him from broadcasting the fight off-planet?”
Kova nodded. “His systems are outdated, so T and I were able to hack them remotely. If we can corrupt the recordings he made, he shouldn’t be able to share them with anyone.”
“Do it.”
Simone watched Kova leave, then looked up at Janwar. “Why is that necessary?”
“To the best of our knowledge, no one knows you’re an Earthling. But if that information should unexpectedly come to light, along with footage of the fight, your missing friends may find themselves facing men who believe them as dangerous as you or who may want them to fight in arenas of their own.”
“Merde. I didn’t think of that.” Only four of her fellow Earthlings—the other Immortal Guardians—would survive a contest like the one she’d just fought. The others would fall even against an opponent like Soval. “Can Kova and T keep that from happening?”
“Yes,” Janwar stated with absolute confidence. “Pulcra won’t be sharing it.”
“Good.” She bit her lip. “Could I have a copy though? I want to show my friends when we’re reunited.”
He grinned. “I’ll have T make you a copy.”
“Already done,” T told them.
Simone smiled. “Thank you. Now, if you will excuse me, I need to shower.” She drew in a deep breath and grimaced. “That Dotharian’s stench is all over me.”
Janwar nodded. “Meet us in the mess hall afterward.”
A few minutes later, Simone stood naked in the shower, loving the warm water that pounded her shoulders. “These boys sure know how to live,” she murmured.
Janwar’s ship was so cleverly designed that his water supply could last an extraordinarily long time, mainly due to the tropical forest that took up half the ship, which meant she could take a nice, long shower without worrying someone else would have to do without.
It felt so good that she lathered up and rinsed off twice before abandoning the gleaming enclosure. She could use the air whatchamacallit to blow the moisture off her skin but preferred to do things the old-fashioned way and reached for a soft towel.
Made for the tall, muscled warriors on board, it covered her from her shoulders to her knees and made Simone feel tiny. Fatigue tugged at her as she buffed her skin dry. Perhaps she should stop by Med Bay for a blood infusion. Though she hadn’t suffered any injuries during her epic battle, avoiding those massive clawed fists and hitting the Dotharian hard enough to hurt it had taken a great deal of preternatural speed and strength. Enough that she felt about how she used to after engaging in battle with an unusually large number of vampires or after blitzing a military compound with her immortal brethren.
Once she donned her usual garb—the uniform generator’s version of panties, a sports bra, cargo pants, a T-shirt, and socks—she headed for the infirmary.
She’d expected to find it empty, but Elchan reclined on one of the examination beds. Feet crossed at the ankles, one hand pillowing his head, he stared up at the ceiling while blood flowed up a tube attached to his arm and into the medical apparatus above him.
She hesitated in the doorway.
His chin dipped as he noted her arrival.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, strolling toward him.
Lips quirking up, he nodded at his arm. “Donating blood. Even though you weren’t hurt, I thought you might need some after the big battle and figured I’d replenish what you’ll use.”
He was such a nice guy.
“Isn’t donating blood so often harmful?” On Earth, she and her fellow Immortal Guardians had infused themselves with blood donated by their Seconds and the many employees of the human network that aided them. And her Seconds used to space out their donor dates.
“Not as long as I give myself a booster afterward. That significantly shortens the time it takes my body to replenish my blood supply.”
Smiling, she gave his arm a friendly pat. “Thank you. I’m sorry you have to do this.”
He waved his free hand. “Don’t be. It makes me feel useful.”
Simone fought a frown as she picked up the med pad on the exam bed beside his. Did that mean he often didn’t feel useful? “How does this thing work again?”
He showed her how to order a transfusion for herself, then watched her hop up onto the bed.
As soon as she lay back, a mechanical arm wielding a needle lowered from the ceiling. Simone crossed her ankles and rested her free hand on her stomach while the machine sprayed disinfectant on the bend of her arm, lit it with a grid pattern, and unerringly found her vein. Seconds later, Segonian blood slithered down the tube.
Simone’s thoughts circled back to Elchan’s comment. “Thank you for staying with me in the tunnel today.” She sent him a grin. “And for ignoring my wishes and stepping into the arena.” She’d caught an occasional flicker in her peripheral vision and didn’t mind that he’d done so since he’d stayed out of the way.
He snorted. “If you try to tell me you were nervous, you’re full of bura.”
She grinned. “I wasn’t nervous. But despite my excitement, I did like knowing you’d have my back if the Dotharian ended up being more than I could handle.”
Smiling, he shook his head. “After seeing you fight it, I don’t think there is such a thing as more than you could handle.”
She laughed. “I wouldn’t be too sure. I’m new to all species of man and animal alien to Earth and know little about them. My empathic gift seems to work well with those I’ve encountered thus far, but on something like the Dotharian that was created in a lab somewhere…” Simone shrugged. “I had no idea what would happen. If my gift had failed me, I would’ve been screwed and required your aid. So again, thank you for being there for me.”
“You’re welcome. Although I doubt I would’ve done more than provide it with a meal to distract it.” He looked away, redirecting his gaze to the apparatus above him. “My camouflage is unreliable and often fails me when I need it most.” Admitting it seemed to be a source of embarrassment for him.
She studied him. “I can understand that.”
His lips tightened. “The Segonian military didn’t. They discharged me when years of training failed to help me bring it under control.”
She frowned. “That sucks.”
A bitter laugh escaped him as he studied the ceiling. “It was an unforgivable humiliation for my family. My father is military, of high rank, and highly respected. He desired no other future for me but to follow in his footsteps. When I failed to overcome my genetic abnormality… my weakness…” His throat worked in a swallow. “He disavowed me. My whole family did.”
Her heart went out to him. Unlike most Immortal Guardians, Simone hadn’t had to walk away from her family after being transformed by the vampiric virus. And she hadn’t had to face their fear or scorn because she had already lost them to the Bubonic Plague. But she had contended with plenty of that since then and understood how hard a blow that must have been for him.
“No offense,” she said softly, “but your family sucks.”
When he cast her a wary glance, perhaps more accustomed to contempt or derision than understanding, she shrugged. “It’s true. So you aren’t perfect. Who the hell is? If your camouflage doesn’t always work in battle, that doesn’t mean you can’t use it proficiently in other scenarios. Scenarios that would be equally useful to your military, I might add.” The mechanical arm withdrew the needle from her flesh and rose into the ceiling. “Weakness, my ass,” she grumbled. “You need to hang out with my brethren on Earth. We all bear special gifts. But those gifts can sometimes fail us. Sensing others’ emotions is easy for me, but altering them takes concentration that I don’t always have time for in battle. Do you think that makes me weak?”
His lips turned up in a genuine smile as the mechanical arm above him withdrew into the ceiling. “Srul no.”
“And neither are you. Don’t let assholes get in your head and convince you otherwise.”
He laughed. “I don’t think my translator got some of that right, but I gleaned your meaning.”
Simone hopped off the bed, already feeling more energetic after her infusion. “Janwar doesn’t think you’re weak. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be a member of his crew. And coming from an outsider’s perspective: Every one of you is badass.”
He chuckled. “I’m going to assume that’s a compliment rather than a declaration that you find our asses unattractive.”
She laughed. “It’s definitely a compliment. It means you’re impressively tough warriors. And I also happen to think your collective asses are hot.” Dropping her voice to a whisper, she winked. “Although I like Janwar’s the most.”
“Good to know,” a deep voice commented.
Jumping, she turned to face the door as Janwar stepped through it.
Color flooded Simone’s lovely face. “Damn it! How did you sneak up on me like that? I didn’t hear a thing!”
He grinned. “Of course, you didn’t. You were too busy talking about my ass.”
Elchan laughed as he rolled out of bed and headed for the door. “I believe I have work to do.”
Janwar clapped a hand on his shoulder as he passed, grateful for his friend’s continued blood donations.
He was grateful to Simone, too. He’d overheard how swiftly she’d come to Elchan’s defense, disparaging those who had denigrated his friend. She had a kind heart and probably had no idea how much her approval meant.
Elchan’s father hadn’t just publicly disavowed him and labeled Elchan damaged. He’d done his best to exile him, taking his son’s reputed “failure” as a personal affront. Over the years, he had blackened his son’s name so efficiently that most Segonian women had steered clear of Elchan, some even going so far as to avoid making eye contact when they passed him. Since the Segonian people as a whole were much more accepting of differences than that, Janwar did not doubt that—rather than finding Elchan lacking—the women had instead worried that Elchan’s father would turn his ire on them if they associated with him.
But Elchan was convinced the women spurned him because they feared his faulty genes would be passed on to any children he would sire.
Simone, however, viewed him as a whole warrior. She considered all of the Tangata’s crew badass warriors worthy of kindness, respect, and friendship.
Recalling the embrace they’d shared earlier, he wondered if she might perhaps view him as worthy of more.
His heart began to pound as she approached, a blush staining her cheeks. Her hair cascaded down her back in a damp, silky curtain that started to draw up into waves as it dried.
“What brings you to Med Bay?” she asked, changing the subject.
“You do.”
Her eyebrows rose. “Why? What’s on your mind?”
Her. Always. Simone was a constant distraction Janwar welcomed like rain in a desert. “I wanted to show you something before last meal.”
Curiosity wiped the embarrassment from her features. “Okay.”
Taking her hand, he felt as if he’d just won a tournament when she didn’t object.
Together they left Med Bay and strolled down the corridor.
“Thank you,” he said softly.
“For what?”
He glanced over his shoulder to ensure Elchan wasn’t nearby. “For your kindness. Elchan has not received much of it during his lifetime.”
She frowned. “That’s disappointing. I thought member nations of the Aldebarian Alliance were smarter than that, that they’d moved beyond disliking people because of their differences.”
“They are, and they have. Others like Elchan enjoy happy lives on Segonia because most of the Segonian people are as accepting as the Lasarans. But his father is amongst the few who aren’t. And he made Elchan’s life a—what was the phrase Lisa used?—a living hell.”
“Well, someone needs to kick his father’s ass.” Her face brightened suddenly as she looked up at him. “Ooh. I’ll do it,” she offered eagerly. “I can even humiliate him in public by making him cower in fear before I wipe the floor with him. Or better yet, make him grovel before Elchan and publicly beg his forgiveness for being such an ass.”
Laughter rolled through him. “That’s something I would very much like to see.”
“Me, too. Elchan’s a good guy.” She smiled. “You’re all good guys.”
He squeezed her hand. “Many believe otherwise.”
“That’s their loss then,” she said with a shrug. “Fortunately, I judge people by their actions, not by what others say about them. And why wouldn’t I? I know how bad it feels to be feared, hated, or even hunted because I’m different. I’ve lost count of the number of Earthlings who tried to kill me once they began to suspect what I am.”
He slowed to a halt. “What? Why?”
“I’m an empath. I could do things they couldn’t. I was different. I am different, even more so since I was infected with the damned Gathendien virus. And being different doesn’t go over well back home.”
“Then why the srul does Lasara want to form an alliance with Earth?”
“Not with Earth. With Seth, the leader of the Immortal Guardians, who also watches over gifted ones like Lisa. Seth would like nothing more than to find a place where we can all live in peace without having to hide our differences.”
“And Lasara hopes your women will help them repopulate?”
“Yes.”
It sounded like an alliance would benefit both parties.
They resumed their walk, a companionable silence enfolding them as they turned up another corridor.
After a moment, Janwar realized he was smiling. It was odd how something as simple as strolling alongside Simone with her small hand tucked in his could be so pleasurable, calling forth a sense of peace he hadn’t experienced in years.
