Page 22 of Chieftain
Not today. Today I was dressed for—well, I wasn't sure exactly what, but based on the cushioning in my boots and the loose-fitting trousers, running might be involved at some point.
"Will you accompany us to the station?" Khaion asked Charick. The Sage stood over an array of computer screens, and he looked up, slightly frowning in my direction before answering.
"You have no need of me on the station. I will stay on board."
Charick didn't like me. He really didn't. And all my flirting and cajoling in the universe hadn't changed that.
He'd spoken to me exactly twice since the night I arrived. Short greetings were issued when Khaion's glare made it necessary for him to be polite.
The rest of the council I absolutely adored. Jutuk, so curious and eager to hear anything and everything about Earth. Tarook was serious, sweet, and, if I had to guess, more than deadly. Daicon was obsessed with the Andy Griffith show. Watching an over seven-foot-tall battle-scarred alien blurt outShazamwas indeed out of this world. Hakkar, so concerned that my trip through the Garoot Healer didn't affect me negatively. I spent half a day in Medi-Bay, convincing the healer I suffered no lingering effects.
I turned my head in the pretense of looking at the space station to hide a grin at the memory of doling out hugs and gushes of gratitude as each warrior left on his mission. I'd genuinely grown to care for these guys. They were good men, and when each left the dock, winging out into the darkness of space, I sent a prayer heavenward for both safety and success.
I'd been so overcome with such a wash of emotions I'd stood in the docking bay and sobbed as the last skiff winged away. Seriously, I've cried more since landing on this spaceship than I ever have in my life. Of course, before the spaceship, I didn't have Khaion, who could not watch my tears fall without holding me. I didn't have his gentleness and care that made mebelieve everything would be alright despite being stranded in the middle of space on an alien spaceship.
My cheeks flared with heat as I glanced at him from under lowered lashes. God, he was gorgeous. He was breathtaking on a daily basis, but today, dressed in solid black leather pants and a sleeveless vest with twin swords mounted at his back—he was just… beyond. But it wasn't just the mesmerizing golden eyes or his zero-body fat that made my heart flutter and sent heat coursing through my veins. It was his gentleness. It was the way he cared for me and listened to me. Golden eyes lifted to mine, and the true reason for the attraction I felt hit me like a brick wall.
It was the way he looked at me.
There was appreciation in his gaze as well as protectiveness. His gaze made me feel like I was beautiful and precious, but most of all, he made me feel safe in a place where safety was as rare as flying pigs—well, flying pigs on Earth. Who knew what pigs did in space?
"Are you ready to leave, little human?" Khaion's voice held that twinge of softness I noticed he reserved only for me.
Before I could answer, Orzon entered the command deck, a large leather bag thrown over his shoulder and a swathe of shiny black fabric clutched in his four-fingered hand. To Khaion, he handed the bag before coming to stand behind me as he shook the material out to its full length, settling it over my shoulders.
"This is Romvesian fabric," Orzon told me, patting the cloak about my shoulders and lifting the hood over my hair. "It reflects light with camouflaging capabilities so no one candiscern your true shape or face. Be sure to always keep the hood up. There are aliens on the space station that do not appreciate humans as we do."
"Thank you, Orzon," I captured his hand, giving it a squeeze. In the short week I'd known him, I'd genuinely grown to care for the Framaddi.
"Be safe human Emmy. Stay close to the Chieftain. He will protect you." Orzon's gaze danced to Khaion and back to me, his pale blue eyebrows furrowing with worry.
“I will protect her with blood and life," Khaion murmured, appearing at my side. His hand rested on the back of my neck in a gesture of support, but the tingles running down my spine from his touch had little to do with comfort.
Because the Bardaga was a battle cruiser much too big for the space station's dock, Bartuk flew us to the station in a small shuttle and waited while we met with the spy. The port was a gleaming mass of metal and glass. The minute we descended the shuttle ramp, goosebumps skittered over my skin. It was easy to feel safe on a battle cruiser with aliens you knew would give all to protect you. It was another stepping out onto a space station the size of Atlanta with dozens of species.
Orzon told me there were seven levels in the space station. The upper level was where the very wealthy kept their abodes. Levels two, three, and four housed the docking bay, merchants, inns, and entertainment, while levels five and six housed the lower classes. Level seven was the mechanical section of the station, holding massive motors and other feats of engineering that kept half a million people thriving in deep space.
Khaion's arm rested firmly around my waist as we strode across the dock toward the elevator. There were at least ten other ships in the process of landing. The aliens disembarking were so fantastical I couldn't help but gawk.
There was a humanoid alien with teal skin and horns that swept from his forehead like a gazelle. A group of tall skinny, gray creatures—the poster children for how I thought aliens would look. A female with the head of a goldfish in breathtaking deep purple robes embroidered with gold. Those that looked like ants and cockroaches dressed in tuxes. Only Khaion's touch urging me forward kept me from gawking.
We stepped into a lift that would take us to the other levels of the station. Thankfully we were alone. There was a creature with spikes all over its body waiting around on the dock that wouldn't have made for a pleasant elevator companion.
"Are you okay? I felt you shiver earlier." Khaion touched my upper arm, a concerned expression darkening his golden eyes.
The question started me. It wasn't just that he asked; over the last week, I'd grown accustomed to his care and attention. What startled me was the realization Khaion was more attuned to my moods and body language than Rick ever was in all our years of marriage.
"I'm fine," I promised, flashing a grin I wasn't sure he saw because of my cloak. "This place is just so damn big.”
“It is,” he chuckled, reaching down to entwine his fingers with mine. Warmth skittered across my nerve endings. “When we exit the lift, stay at my side, and don’t let anything take your hand from mine.”
"Nobody will try to kidnap me, will they?" I tightened my fingers around his.
“The Vaktaire are known as warriors. Only a fool would try and take you from me." Khaion told me with a hint of smugness.
I nodded, trying to ignore the fire licking across my nerve endings, then asked. "Where are we going exactly?" This trip aimed to rendezvous with the leader of a spy ring that worked with the Vaktaire to help abducted humans. We hoped someone might have information as to Willa’s whereabouts.
"To a tavern called Dixa's on the third level." He let out a terse breath. "I should have left you on the ship, you would be safer, but as none of us have seen your friend, I wanted you along to verify her description." He squeezed my fingers. "Keep your head down. Hopefully, no one will pay more attention to us than they would anyone and his mate.”
