ALYVOS

Eventually the water runs clean and her skin is a lovely, even shade instead of dirty smudges. Her dark hair is a wet fall over her shoulders and she looks better. Even her color is improved, as if just washing up has made her heart lighter. She wipes water from her face and pauses as her fingers slide over her eyes, as if she’s forgotten that there’s nothing but scars there. The smile on her mouth fades ever so slightly.

“I think I’m done,” Iris says in that polite, even voice of hers. “Thank you, Alvos.”

“Don’t make me growl at you,” I tell her. “You’re allowed to shower as much as you want on this ship.”

Her wet fingers—the tips shriveled from the shower—caress my forearm. “Yes, but thank you for standing here with me and being with me. And talking. And not leaving me alone.” She holds me tight. “I don’t think I like being alone anymore.”

“I understand.” And I do. I think I understand that more than anyone. “Come on. Let’s get you dried off.”

I wrap a plas-towel around her shoulders, and she flinches and then holds herself very still as the fabric adjusts to her body. I explain to her that it’s normal, but I can tell she’s unsettled. She lightly strokes the material as if she doesn’t quite trust it not to move. I lead her out of the water closet and then over to my bed. For once, I’m glad that I’m tidier than Tarekh. My bed is made with the blankets pulled tight. I don’t have pillows like humans like to use, and I make a mental note to get one from Fran or Cat.

I guide Iris to the side of the bed and she sits down delicately. “I’ll find Cat and see where she is with those clothes.”

She clutches my arm. “It’s all right. They can wait. Do you have scissors? Or a knife?”

“I do…why?” Is there a human bathing ritual I’m unaware of?

“I need to cut my hair off.” She pushes it back from her face with a grimace. “It’s just one big knot.”

“You don’t like it?” I can’t resist taking a lock of it between my fingers and rubbing. It’s wet and knotted, but the strands are like silk.

“I’ll never get it detangled. It’s too snarled.”

“I’ll do it for you.”

Her lips part with surprise. “You will?”

In this moment, there is nothing I want more. Tend to her? Take care of her? Make her feel comforted and loved? “Gladly. Wait here and I’ll return.”

I head to the water closet and grab my comb. It’s wide-toothed for mesakkah hair, which has a different texture than human hair. It should still do the trick, though, and when I return to the bed a moment later and touch her shoulder, Iris relaxes and smiles back at me, and I feel as if I’ve won a prize just for volunteering to take care of her.

She should be pampered all her days, not treated like she was. Just the thought of what she’s been through makes the rage burn in my gut. For a moment, I want to throw the comb down on the bed and chase down Kivian and see what happened with the szzt and their ship. See if they were disposed of or if there’s still someone for me to destroy. But I’d have to leave Iris’s side and it’s clear she doesn’t want to be left alone. Even that small window in which I left her side to get the comb made her tense and worried. She’s relaxed now that I’m back, and I take a handful of her hair and begin to gently work through the snarls.

If I have to choose between Iris and my revenge, I choose Iris. It’s a first for me to give up on a chance to fight, but Iris needs me. Kivian knows how I feel about those szzt, and I trust him to take care of things. I relax and focus on Iris’s hair, and I don’t even mind when the floors of the ship begin to vibrate, signaling that we’re accelerating and no longer docked to the junker.

I do my best not to yank on her hair, but she’s right—it’s snarled to the point that I’m not surprised she wanted to cut it off. As it dries, though, it changes to a rich dark brown and clings to my fingers, soft and pettable. I’m glad she’s letting me do this, because I think it’s beautiful. She’s silent as I work, her hands in her lap. I want her to speak, even if it’s just for the pleasure of hearing her thoughts. “I’ve told you about me. Tell me about you, Iris.”

“There’s nothing important to tell,” she says in that mild voice of hers.

She's wrong, but she's also got that passive tone in her voice that tells me she's going to keep her secrets. That's all right. She just got here. It's early for her to trust, but I hope that someday she'll share more with me. “If you say so.”

“How did you learn the human language?” Iris asks, just as the door chimes and announces Cat's presence outside.

“Open,” I call out, and the door slides back.

Cat steps inside, and then pauses when she sees Iris perched on the bed in a plas-towel and me combing her wet hair. She raises one of those mobile human eyebrows at me, and I scowl in her direction. I don't care what it looks like. “Sorry to interrupt this scene of domestic bliss, but I brought clothing.” She gestures at the bundle in her hands. “Should I come back later?”

“Don't be ridiculous,” I half snarl at her. Cat just smirks in my direction, not put off by my bad temper. “I was just helping Iris with her hair. We can finish it later. She probably wants clothing more than a combing, and I need to check in with Kivian.” I press the comb into Iris's hand and give it a squeeze. “Can you stay with her until I get back?”

“Of course,” Cat says in a cheery voice. “I brought several different things in case you don't like some of what I have. I'm a big fan of choices.” She plops herself down on the floor near the bed and starts to spread things out before her. “Take your time, Aly. We're good here.”

I'm sure she is, but I worry about Iris. “Will you be good?” I ask with a touch to her shoulder.

“Of course.” Her voice is smooth and pleasant. “Thank you.”

I grit my teeth at how robotic and monotonous she makes those words sound. So very agreeable. But I don't want to call her out on it in front of Cat. Everyone's got their defense mechanisms. I just give her another pat on the shoulder and head out of the room. I shut the door and pause outside for a moment, just in case Iris starts screaming in fear. Just in case she needs me. When it's quiet, I leave and head for the bridge.

Only Sentorr is there, bent over the nav panels of the Fool as if they provide all the answers of the universe.

“Where's Kivian?” I ask.

“He and Fran are unavailable at the moment,” Sentorr says, his tone indicating he doesn't approve.”

Ah. That means they're mating. I head to my chair in one corner of the bridge—the security station—and sit down, kicking my feet up on my panel and trying to look comfortable and at ease. Instead, I'm wondering about Iris and how she likes Cat. If I should go back because she needs me there, or if I'm just being overbearing.

Probably overbearing.

I glance over at Sentorr, who's watching me with the corners of his hard mouth turned down slightly. I study him. There's not a hair on his head out of place, his horn coverings immaculately polished. He's even wearing a uniform, which is ironic because the Fool has no uniforms. If we did, though, I imagine they'd look like the stiff, uncomfortable creation he's wearing, with a million buttons on the front and a high collar to choke the life out of a male. And decorative sleeves, I add mentally. Damned Kivian loves a decorated sleeve. Sentorr's personality is as buttoned up as his clothing, though. He gives me another look of disapproval, gaze flicking from my feet up on the panel to my face.

I rub my jaw, thinking absently of the female I left behind in my quarters. It feels strange to be sitting here on the bridge, pretending to relax when I'm anything but. I feel an overwhelming need to return to her side, and I fight it, because I don't want to come across as too possessive. Not until she's ready to think about me as something other than her rescuer. Like I said before, it might be never.

But if my hellish time during the war taught me anything, it's that perspectives change over time. Old wounds fade even if they don't go away. So I can be patient and play the long game.

I force myself to cross my arms over my chest and study the nav charts pulled up on the screens as if they hold my interest in the slightest. They don't. Sentorr doesn't offer information and when he turns back to his nav charts, I speak up. “The junker?”

He flicks a glance over at me. “Currently having a system malfunction and en route to the nearest sun. No life on board, if that's what you're asking.”

“That's what I'm asking,” I agree, pleased. Kivian took care of business. Good. It's the ugly side of piracy, but sometimes things get ugly. I don't regret it. I only regret I wasn't the one that got to pull the trigger so Iris could hear from me that they're finished.

Iris. I can't stop thinking about her. Strangely enough, I don't think about her scars or the painful-looking shadows where her eyes should be. I think about that hint of a smile that sometimes curves her lips and how I'd do anything for it. I wonder if it's too soon to go back and check in on her. If that'll seem weird.

“Not you, too.” Sentorr's voice is sour.

I look over at my friend. He's tapping away at the nav charts, updating our path and scanning communication bands to ensure we avoid the law. He's always busy with something, Sentorr. Always focused on the Fool. It makes me wonder what's going on in his head sometimes. If the male's ever heard of “downtime.” Of what he's trying to avoid by burying himself in work. Of course, I don't ask. Never would. “Not me too what?”

His mouth turns down and he jabs one of the panels a little harder than necessary. “She's your mate, isn't she? It's obvious to me that we've acquired yet another human to squeeze into our four-crew ship.” The disapproval drips from his tone.

“It's that obvious already?” I don't deny it. The moment I lifted Iris into my arms, I knew she was mine.

“It is. There's something about you that's different. Changed.”

Huh. Funny how that shows outwardly. I feel changed, too. Rejuvenated. Like I have a new focus in life that doesn't just involve bloodying my knuckles. “Yeah. She's mine. I didn't think it'd happen so fast but…”

“I hear that's how it happens,” Sentorr says, flicking a hand over his screen and pulling up another map, then overlaying it on the current star chart. “Like a bolt of lightning.”

He's not wrong. I always thought that was a tall tale myself, but one look at Iris and something in me shifted. The hollow places got filled by the sight of her. I'm not even the slightest bit upset about it. Thought I'd fight it more when the time came, because I'm all jagged edges inside. But something about Iris just feels right. Feels good. Feels like she needs me as much as I need her. She's still got too many secrets, but that's all right. There's time enough for everything to come out. She'll share when she's ready.

Of course, that means everyone on the Fool is matched up except for Sentorr. I watch him as he works busily, his tail flicking in time to the movements he makes across screen after screen. Is he lonely? I didn't realize I was until I saw Iris. “Someday it'll happen for you, too, my friend.”

He just snorts.