Bad Blood
“Preacher.” Doc twisted to look at his injury. “And apparently he puts some kind of poison on his blades.”
Fi looked at his leg. “Is that why you didn’t heal?”
He nodded. “And why I passed out before I got inside. I don’t even remember getting here. I think it’s mostly out of my system, but I better clean that thing.”
“Why did you go see Preacher? Last I knew you were asleep next to me. When did you leave?”
“After we… you know. You were asleep and I couldn’t. Kept thinking about that nightmare and how real it felt. I couldn’t shake the urge to check things out for myself.”
Fi crossed her arms. “You are telling Mal about this immediately.”
He nodded again. When she was right, she was right. “Yeah, I agree. Things are weird.”
She reached for him. “You can explain weird while we get you inside and start cleaning that leg.”
He put his arm around her shoulders and, limping a little, let her lead him into the freighter. “In my dream last night, I killed the comarré I saw at Preacher’s. When I went there last night, Preacher threatened me, said if I was the one who killed Julia, he’d turn my hide into a rug.”
They followed the main corridor to the galley. Fi pulled a chair out for him and he sat on the edge. “I think Julia must be the comarré he had the baby with, but how can she be dead? I dreamed it, but I didn’t do it.” At least he didn’t think he had.
Fi cranked the tap and filled a bowl with steaming water. Solar made sure they never had a lack of that. “Of course you didn’t kill her. Just because you kill someone in a dream doesn’t mean it really happens. If she’s dead, someone else did it.” She threw a few clean towels over her shoulder, hooked a finger through the ancient med kit, then hoisted the bowl of water with both hands and carried it all to the table. “You need to lose those jeans.”
He raised a brow.
“So I can clean that cut. Save the cute for later.”
“I’m making a mental note of that.” He stood and dropped trou.
“Good. Now bend over the table.”
“I love when you talk dirty to me.” He did as she asked, resting his forearms on the old Formica top.
“Stop changing the subject.” She dipped a towel into the water, then wrung it out. “What else was weird?”
He inhaled as she laid the hot towel against his wound. It was a good distraction from the question. “Holy crap, that’s hot.”
“Needs to be to get the poison out. Now, what was weird?”
Like a dog with a bone. He shook his head, unwilling to mention how he’d felt coerced while he was there. Like an unseen force had wanted him to look at the child. It was just natural varcolai curiosity, that was all. “Seeing Preacher with a baby isn’t weird enough?”
She removed the towel, rinsed it, and started wiping at the cut. “Yeah, but it’s not new weird. You’ve known about that for over a week. What else?”
He gritted his teeth against the pain and twisted to watch her work. “Nothing. Are you almost done?”
She flicked his thigh with her finger. “You’re a bad liar. We’re going to see Mal after I wrap this.” She applied a layer of ointment, then fished out a roll of gauze.
“I’m not waking him out of daysleep.”
“I will. I don’t care if he gets mad at me. He needs to know what’s going on.” She secured the gauze with tape and looked up at him. “Done. Pants. Let’s go.”
He hitched his jeans up and zipped them, giving her a wink. “You woke up on the pushy side of the bed this morning.”
“Pushy?” She stood and gave him an appraising look. “You left after we made love last night. You’re lucky I didn’t wake up stabby.” She pointed at the bowl of water and first-aid kit. “You can clean this up after we talk to Mal.”
He surrendered, hands up. “Will do. Let’s go see the old man. But first…” He grabbed her and kissed her hard, letting her go a long minute later. “Thanks for fixing me up.”
“Bothersome creature,” she whispered, her cheeks flushing. Squirming out of his arms, she grabbed his hand and tugged him down the hall toward Mal’s room. The solars were bright this time of day, but the passage dimmed as they approached Mal’s. Here a section of solars had been removed to keep the light to a minimum when he slept.
Doc stopped a few feet from his door. He tipped his head and kept his voice down. “Go head. You wake him.”
“Coward,” she teased, reaching her fisted hand toward the door. She knocked softly. “Mal? Can we talk—”
The door swung open. The room was empty.
Chapter Ten
Ting, ting, ting.
The soft chiming opened Chrysabelle’s eyes, erasing the remnants of the dream lingering in her subconscious. Velimai stood near the bed, ringing a small crystal bell. Chrysabelle yawned and sat up, pushing the hair off her neck. “What is it?”
Velimai set the bell down on the nightstand and signed, Mortalis is here. He won’t come in.
Suddenly more awake, Chrysabelle’s heart rate kicked up a notch. Mortalis was early. And about to hand her the ring that had started all this trouble.
The ring that was going to change her life once again.
She nodded. “Let me get dressed and I’ll be right down. Mal and Creek still sleeping?” Because of the late hour last night, she’d let both men stay. Not because she needed the protection with a Castus in town and not because Mal’s presence would assure the guest comarré stayed in their own quarters. Those were just perks.