Page 34 of Master
Purple eyes studied my face, followed by a heavy breath that drained the tension from her body.
“At least I get to meet Elvis today,” she sighed.
"About that?" Damn, this female was going to hate the sight of me when I finished confessing all the misdeeds of her government... and mine.
"What now?" she muttered. Tension flickered across her lovely face as Clara steeled herself.
“He might not know himself as Elvis.”
“Why not?” Clara crossed her arms over her chest, tilting her head slightly.
I swallowed hard. This felt worse to confess because the Bardaga had been complicit, although most onboard didn’t agree with the practice. “For a time, the Alliance believed it better to help humans forget their past in order to cope with life among the stars.”
“Wait a minute.”
Clara poked the tip of one finger into the center of my chest. I might enjoy the touch if I didn’t dread her upset.
“Are you telling me the Alliance wipes people’s memories?”
I nodded slowly and with no small amount of regret. "They used to, yes."
"What a bunch of fucking shit!" she hissed, poking my chest in punctuation with each world. "That's just... cruel." Her eyes widened as a thought took hold, and the fingertip that thudded against my chest went from pleasurable to painful.
“Memories are all I have left of Curtis and my daughter, and nobody is taking them from me," Clara warned.
“The Alliance stopped the practice of memory wiping years ago. No one will take the memories of your loved ones. I give my word as a Vaktaire warrior.”
Clara tilted her head as she gazed at me, her eyes sparkling like fiery gemstones.
“Would you fight the Alliance so I could keep my memories?”
A fair question, I thought, and one easily answered. Without hesitation, I pulled a knife from the sheath at my hip and slid it across my palm. I didn't feel the pain of the cut nor when I squeezed my fist shut, letting drops of my black blood drip to the ground between us. "I swear on my blood, I would fight anyone, even my fellow Vaktaire."
Something flickered in her face, and the steely glint of her eyes faded to softness. She pursed her lips and settled on a faint smile.
“There you go, being all charming again.”
"Come." I wiped the line of blood against my breeches and held out my hand. "Let us go introduce ourselves."
Clara hesitated a breath before slipping her hand into mine. Her palm was small, her fingers half the size of mine, but somehow, the way our hands wove together felt right.
It felt right, in a way nothing in my life had before meeting her.
Chapter 9
Clara
I didn’t mind holding Tarook’s hand.
In fact, I liked it. He made me feel safe as we traversed the narrow gravel road toward the barn. The man was willing to fight a cow for me, after all.
My lips pressed together in a tight line, forestalling the need to giggle. Shifting my attention toward the barn, I waited for the couple to emerge and prayed that they would be friendly.
The female exited first. She was an inch or two shorter than my five foot seven, but plumper dressed in jeans and a flannel shirt. With a coif of platinum hair piled atop her head in a loose bun and perfect peaches and cream complexion, nothing swayed me from my earlier assessment that she resembled a young Dolly Parton—who I prayed was still alive and well on Earth.
When the man followed a few moments later, I would have stumbled except for Tarook's supportive grip. This close, I could spot his bedroom eyes, the ice blue color sparkling as he smiled at the woman.
This was Elvis.
