“You won’t tell me your name and I have to call you something. ‘Feela’ means ‘flame’ in the ancient Saurian tongue,” Dragon explained.
He’d had to learn it as part of his training when he was officially adopted—though almost none of the younger generation of Saurians knew it now. But Komendant Vizlar had thought it was important knowledge, since he was mammalian—a way to immerse himself in his new culture.
“Wh-why would you c-call me ‘f-flame?’” she demanded.
“Your hair,” he said, taking a long lock of it between his fingers. Just as he’d thought, it was soft and incredibly silky. It also smelled faintly of flowers. And her skin smelled warm and sweet instead of sour and dry and reptilian, which was how the Saurian females always smelled. “It’s the color of flame,” he said, indicating her hair. “So—feela.”
“I s-said, d-don’t touch me!”
She yanked her head to one side, trying to get her hair free of his grip and then groaned and clutched her temples.
“Don’t move your head too much,” he told her. “Hold still. When we land the G forces are going to be as bad as when we took off—you don’t want to make your headache worse.”
“We have to go through all that again?” she demanded. “What’s wrong with your ship? Did you lose your artificial gravity or something?”
“Artificial gravity?” Dragon looked at her with interest. “Your people have ships that can make artificial gravity?” He noted that her teeth weren’t chattering anymore. Good—it seemed that his body heat was warming her.
“We don’t but the Kindred do. They—”
“Wait—who is ‘we?’ If you’re not a Kindred female, what are you?” he asked, frowning down at her.
“I’m from Earth—it’s a planet on the other side of the Blind,” she explained, still rubbing her temples.
“The Blind?” Dragon frowned.
“It’s a huge cosmic dust cloud that limits visibility. It kind of divides the universe in two—well, our part of the universe anyway,” she explained.
“Oh, do you mean Night’s Curtain?” Dragon asked. “That’s what my people—the Saurians—call it. Are there really other Kindred on the other side of it?”
She frowned.
“Didn’t you know that? Aren’t you Kindred yourself? I mean, you look like a Kindred—at least from your size. Although I’ve never seen a Kindred with eyes your color. And I’ve never heard of a Kindred kidnapping women out of the blue either,” she added, glaring at him.
“I am Kindred,” he said, ignoring her words about kidnapping. “Actually, a mixture of two kinds of Kindred. My mother was a Vision Kindred.”
“So you’re what they call a ‘hybrid?’” She seemed to have forgotten to be afraid of him, though she was still holding herself stiff in his arms. “I’ve never heard of the Vision Kindred. What kind of Kindred was your father?”
“Don’t know.” Dragon shrugged. “I don’t remember my birth parents at all—I only know what my adoptive father told me.”
“So these people adopted you?” She looked with wide eyes at the group of Saurians sitting against the walls. They were all part of Zerlix’s crew—most of them enforcers like Dragon himself. One or two stared back with lazy interest, but most had their eyes closed, catching a quick nap.
Dragon nodded.
“They did. I’m part of the Crimson Scales Clan. Have been since I was five cycles old.”
“Well, that’s nice for you, but you need to bring me back to Avria Pentaura,” she said. “You can’t just take me, you know. The Kindred—my Kindred—are going to come looking for me and then you’re going to be in big trouble.”
“Bring it on,” Dragon said, shrugging. “I’d be happy to meet more of my own kind—especially since I thought they were all dead.”
“They’ll hurt you or kill you if you so much as lay a finger on me,” she warned him, her blue eyes flashing. “Kindred—real Kindred—worship a Goddess and revere all things female. They don’t believe in kidnapping or…or raping women!”
“Who said I was going to rape you?” Dragon raised an eyebrow at her. “I don’t force myself on females who don’t want me.”
“Then why did you take me in the first place?” she demanded. “Are you thinking I’ll be your maid, or something? Because I have news for you, Mr. Dragon—I didn’t work for years to earn my PhD just so I could pick up your dirty underwear!”
Dragon had no idea what she was talking about and was opening his mouth to say so when Zerlix unbuckled himself from his harness and, using the handholds on the center ceiling support, swung himself over to hover over the two of them.
“Well, aren’t you two looking cozy,” he remarked, his slitted yellow-green eyes narrowing as he stared down at them.
Unconsciously, Dragon tightened his grip on the small female, pulling her possessively close to his chest. He didn’t realize he was doing it until she squeaked and struggled weakly in his arms. Only then did he loosen his grip—but just a little.