The doctor smiled. “Mrs. Peters, if you’ll just?—”
“Actually,” Davis cut in smoothly, “we’ll need complete privacy for this scan.”
The doctor’s brows snapped together. “I’m afraid that’s not standard procedure. As the attending physician, I need to?—”
“We insist,” Covak rumbled, his massive form seeming to fill the room.
Dr. Rettnor glanced between them, a tiny pulse fluttering at his temple. “Well, while I understand your desire for privacy, we have protocols?—”
Davis’s voice was like steel. “Which I’m sure can be bent, considering the generous compensation you’ve received.”
The doctor hesitated for a moment, his gaze darting around them all, and then he nodded. “Very well. You’ve certainly paid enough for some… discretion.” An odd expression flickered across his face, but it was gone before she could analyze it. “The scanning equipment is ready for you. I trust you know how to operate it?”
Covak grunted.
“Good.” The doctor’s lips curled into a tight smile. “It’s quite user-friendly. Any idiot could run it, really.”
She caught the backhanded compliment and narrowed her eyes in warning.
“I’ll be just outside if you need any assistance,” the doctor added, already backing toward the door. “Good luck with your… procedure.”
As soon as the door closed behind the doctor, the tension in the room dropped a little. “It’s human tech,” Covak grumbled. “How hard can it frexxing be? Frexxing jumped up little asshole.”
She moved forward and stood in front of the scanner. It was a huge thing, like a metal cage surrounding a narrow bed. Nothing at all like the diagnostic unit on the Reapers’ ship. It loomed ominously, and she took a deep breath. Did she really want to know what it would tell them?
A large hand landed on her shoulder. She turned, and looked up to meet Covak’s gaze. His eyes, now a shade lighter than before, held a warmth that made her breath catch.
“Trust me,” he said softly. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”
She nodded, a lump forming in her throat. She wanted to say something—to thank him, to express her growing trust in him—but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, she reached up, squeezing his hand briefly before lying down on the table.
“Covak,” she said softly, drawing his attention. Anything not to think about the scan. “Does your species’ eyes change color with your mood or something? I could swear your eyes are lighter than they were before.”
His lips quirked into a small smile. “Are they?” he asked, his tone light. He didn’t say anything else, turning back to the scanner controls as she focused on her breathing.
“I’m going to step out for a moment,” Davis said from the back of the room. “I need to check on something. I’ll be right back.”
She nodded as the machine whirred into life around her and squeezed her eyes shut. Hopefully, whatever was hidden inside her wouldn’t blow this one up…
12
He’d never get over howtinyhumans were.
It was easy to forget how small they were when the only ones he saw were Davis, who he could now see was basically a giant compared to ants, and Jesh. She was smaller, nearer the average for humanity from what he could tell, but in isolation and aboard theDream, it was easily to forget and just consider her cute. Covak grumbled under his breath as he contorted his big body into a pretzel to fit in the ridiculously small human-sized chair in front of the scanner’s control panel.
He flicked a glance at the female on the bed, his mind drifting back to the night before. He’d held her in his arms, her tiny body fitting perfectly against his. Her warmth, her scent—it all stuck with him, embedded in his memory. He hadn’t slept a wink, too caught up in the feel of her in his arms to risk missing a moment.
He flexed his fingers, pulling his claws as far back as he could. They still clicked against the little plastic keys.
Covak stared at the human tech. They had to be frexxing kidding. He’d seen more advanced gear in a junkyard. His gut clenched. What if this primitive stuff fried Jesh’s circuits insteadof scanning them? He flexed his claws, wanting nothing more than to smash the outdated console.
It got worse. He bit back his groan as he scanned over the text on the screen. The human language was a jumble of nonsense symbols. And that was saying something given Vorrtan could be mistaken for chicken scratches in the dirt half the time.
“What’s taking so long?” Ryke asked in impatience, walking to the window to look out. It had nothing to do with checking the view and everything to do with checking on an escape route should they need it. “We don’t have all day.”
Covak narrowed his eyes and concentrated on the words on screen. “Just give me a moment. It’s not easy when I have to learn a new language on the fly. Human tech isn’t exactly intuitive.”
Ryke turned to look at him from the window. “Learn a new language? What about your translation implant?”