Page 37 of Akur

She couldn’t tell what species it was. The translator behind her ear made it so she understood what was said, but the voice itself…she couldn’t pinpoint it. This stranger before them wasn’t anyone she knew.

That was obviously not the case for Akur. His growl deepened. Every hair along her arms stood on end. “You dare speak to me about time?” The words came out mangled, as if each one had to fight past his hatred to emerge. “After what you—”

“The human will not survive what comes next, Shum’ai,” the voice cut in, still maddeningly neutral. “Neither will you. Not in your condition.”

Constance felt Akur’s muscles bunch. The scrape of his blade against stone told her he’d shifted into an attack stance. But something was off about his movement.

“Akur?” she whispered, pressing her forehead against his spine. His skin burned so hot it felt like pressing her head against an oven.

A wet cough escaped him, and something warm spattered her hand where it rested against his side. Blood. Fresh blood.

“Your wounds are great,” the voice observed almost clinically. “Even a Shum’ai has his limits.”

Akur stiffened, but his blade didn’t waver. “Better death than cower before the likes of you.”

Shifting slightly so she could look around the tall alien guarding her from the threat, Constance’s jaw clenched. She couldn’t see shit. Blast these damn human eyes. But whoever it was had taken them out of immediate danger. That had to mean something. Right?

“Follow me,” the voice said.

“By the gods, I would rather die.”

And she knew he meant it with every fiber of his being. After all, he’d been trying to die this entire time, it seemed.

Pressing her forehead to his back, she felt every labored breath. “We should follow them,” she whispered. “Whoever they are, if they wanted us dead, they wouldn’t have pulled us through that wall.”

The sounds behind the wall grew louder. Dust or small pieces of stone rained down. They were running out of time.

“Your human speaks sense,” the voice said. Was there a note of approval there? “They really are intelligent beings, aren’t they.” That was said with the sort of tone that gave her the distinct impression she was being observed. “The choice is simple: Trust me for the next few hors, or die here now.”

“Trustyou?” Akur’s laugh was awful—raw and filled with something that sounded like madness. “After what your kind has done?”

“I promise you, Shum’ai. If I wished your demise, I would not have to hide in the bowels of the city waiting for the opportune moment to crush you beneath my heel.” The voice remained maddeningly calm. “I ask your trust because this time, our interests align. Or do you think it a coincidence that I am here, in these tunnels, at this precise moment?”

Something in those words made Akur go very still. The trembling in hismuscles stopped. When he spoke again, his voice had changed—become harder, more controlled. “You knew we would come this way.”

“I knew there was a possibility.” A whisper of movement in the darkness. “I knew what they would do if they caught you. Both of you. Hiding you in the tunnels was only temporary. I cannot use that method again.”

Wait…what?

“So it was you…” Akur finally said. His words felt so sharp, so heavy they could cut iron.

There was silence again. “I have already said too much.”

The sounds behind the wall grew louder.

“Your lifeblood seeps, Shum’ai, and you are starting your heat,” the voice continued. “If you truly want to save this human…follow me.”

Heat?

As if to emphasize the stranger’s point, the heat coming from Akur felt even hotter than before, as if his fever, or whatever it was, had gone up by several degrees.

This…stranger. Who were they? If she’d learned anything through her counseling sessions, it was that you shouldn’t go trusting voices that spoke to you from the darkness.

But they didn’t exactly have any cards to play here. Just the sound of those guards approaching on the other side of the wall was making her fear ratchet up to alarming levels.

“I know I don’t have the best judgment—” she whispered into Akur’s back.

“Your judgment has been demonstrably poor.”

---