Cleo is sat in a medi-chair, like the ones they used to use on us at the facility after we’d been tested almost to destruction, and beside her is a being which looks very much like the ones who used to torture us. I slam him aside as I pluck my mate from the chair.
“Wait, Maxym!” She struggles in my arms, but all I can do is hold her to me, drink down her scent, and let it calm my being into submission.
“Did he hurt you?” I snarl.
“The exact opposite,” she says.
I release her enough I can see her face. Cleo gently runs her hand along my jawline, under my helmet. “Dirk, he’s a Kijg scientist, a prisoner of the Bogarok and some species called a Varangy. They’re all working for a Protoex.”
I pull out my remaining dagger, but my hand is stayed by Cleo.
“He’s a friend,” she says. “And we need all the friends we can get. What happened to you?”
“We were trapped on the other side of the door,” I tell her. “Retah got injured, but we were able to break the control the Bogarok had over the Zarvu and Habosu who were sent to capture us.”
“Retah got hurt?” Cleo’s eyes fill with water as she checks me over for injury too.
As if any injury would stop me from getting to her.
“The Habosu agreed to take him to the Cirmos for treatment.”
“Sensible choice. The Cirmos have gone to ground,” the Drahon-like creature says, flapping the dust from his long white cloak.
I snarl at him. He glares back.
“Gryn.” He lifts his lip in a sneer of what appears to be disgust.
Only to find there’s a small Oykig clerk with a dagger pointed right at his sensitive parts.
I raise my eyebrows.
“Are you friend, as my mate suggests?” I look down at the clerk. “Or do I give him permission to use the dagger?”
The little creature is having difficulty holding the thing, he’s shaking so hard, but at least he has the confidence I had hoped it would give him, even if the chances of him doing any damage to the Kijg are limited.
“Friend! Friend!” he shouts, obviously more intimidated by the shaking blade than I would be. “The Bogarok have my family.”
“It’s okay, Nate,” I say quietly. “You can let him go.”
The Oykig looks up at me. “I can?”
“You can. You did good, little gladiator. We’ll find another fight for you later.”
He slips back from the Kijg and puts the dagger into his tunic with a smile.
Cleo searches my face.
“Nate helped me find you.” I tap the side of the helmet. “I can’t use the thoughtbond, but I can use the tech.”
“I might have something to help with the mind control.” Dirk still has his hands raised and is eyeing Nate with some concern.
I growl at him. “I have something for it.”
“I mean, I worked out it doesn’t work as well on any creature which has had a head injury.” Dirk glances at Nate again, his gaze raking over the scar on Nate’s head. “And I have a serum which should keep it that way.” He fixes his eyes on me, blinking once. “Because you had a head injury too, didn’t you?”
I snarl, pulling my sword from between my wings and pinning him up against the wall.
“How did you know?”