Page 30 of Chieftain
"You're a good Chieftain," Emmy's voice was breathless, and the glance cast at me was full of gratitude and something else. Something like… was she proud of me? Humans did not know the Vaktaire way of sacrifice and honor. Why did it matter so much for her to be proud of how I dealt with my crew? The need for her approval was as necessary as breath to me now.
A low clacking creased the air, followed by the sound of grunting.
Emmy opened her mouth, curiosity on her features, but I stifled her question, laying a palm over her lips. Her eyes went wide—wider still when I slipped an arm around her waist and carried her the few feet to a small alcove made by piles of trash.
I could hear them moving past the alley's entrance—three, maybe four of them. While I could easily dispatch the creatures, they weren’t here for a fight.
“Elktonni," I whispered close to her ear. The noise from the nearby thoroughfare would hide our voices. Elktonni weren't known for their hearing.
“What’s that?”
“The Kerzak have few allies, but there are some. Elktonni are a scavenger species with a symbiotic relationship with the Kerzak.”
Emmy considered for a minute. “So, the Kerzak would eat me, and the Elktonni would gnaw my bones?”
“Yes. Something like that.” I liked the way my human caught on to things.
My human.
When had I started letting myself think of her like that? She was mine to protect and defend just as the human condition belonged to every Vaktaire to improve. Her petite body trembled, and I tightened the arm around her waist, wanting to offer comfort. Her heavy sigh and how she relaxed against me, her head resting against my chest, said she trusted me to care for her safety, but…
I wanted something more.
I wanted her to look up at me like Dixa gazed at Siemba—with affection and pride. I wanted her to see me not only as her protector but something else. Something more. Something for which I only dared to hope. Could Charick be correct about humans—the way the Garoot Healer transformed their bodies? It wasn't just about making Emmy able to bear my young—it was about making her able to bear my heartbeat, something a Vaktaire could not mate without.
Emmy shifted against me, jerking my thoughts back to the present. The sound of the Elktonni faded, barely discernible in the mishmash of sounds clamoring from the mouth of the alley. Cautiously I stepped from the alcove and pulled Emmy to my side after a moment's inspection.
“Where are we going?" She asked, her small feet keeping pace with me rather well, although I slowed my gait in accommodation.
“A safe place. It is where Dixa and Siemba hide humans they rescue until we can transport them to Tau Ceti.”
I stopped beside a mound of broken electronics, the doorway leading to the level below barely visible. Like the trash bin, it was a decoy, and the pile of gears and metal slid aside easily.
"Jesus H. Rosevelt Christ, to quote Claire Fraser," Emmy sputtered and gagged as we stepped into the passage. "What is that smell?"
“I do not know,” I lied, slipping an arm about her shoulders to turn her away from the boated body of a dead human lying just inside the stairwell. It was dark, so her human eyes would not see the mask of horror twisting the woman’s visage. Whoever she was, the poor woman died in fear. I wanted to die in battle, surrounded by my comrades—or at least I had until meeting Emmy. Now the want of a good death was waning… replaced by something else, somethingmore.
This passage was not as narrow as the last one. Rough stairs led downward, swaying and groaning with every step. I kept Emmy close to my side, lifting her as I took the stairs two at a time. She linked her hands around my neck, pressing her nose against the hair falling over my shoulder. A low, happy hum accompanied her deep inhale. She liked my scent, at least more than that of the dead human. Both my heart and cock gave a twitch in reply.
Like the other doorways, the passage onto the alley was hidden behind a pile of discarded wood that creaked and rattled from my effort to move it. The odor on this level was different. Not so much decay and death as a reek of unwashed bodies—many bodies.
Small, huddled masses that appeared poverty-stricken and starved lines the alley's walls. I did not scent the metallic essence of weapons, only the brine of hunger and suffering. I motioned for Emmy to join me, pulling her cloak around her face when she reached my side.
Most of the alley's inhabitants stayed away, trying to mesh themselves into shadow. One small fire up ahead showed the figures of a mother and two small younglings. She was a Romvesian, still holding on to her people's penchant for beauty despite a layer of dirt. Her wide round deep blue eyes regarded me warily, holding her younglings tightly against her chest. The youngest was barely more than a babe, gaunt little face screwed up in a furious cry that went unheard over the sounds of music and laughter from the taverns off the alley.
“I guess humans aren’t the only species that look away while others suffer," Emmy muttered, slowing as we neared the mother.
“No, they are not.” Of species in the known universe, on the cruelty scale, humans didn’t even place.
Emmy stopped, the orange glow from the small fire making the few strands of hair that escaped her cloak appear as living fire. Her hand pulled from mine, going to the bag Larte gave us, slung over her shoulder. Her eyes darted to me, widening in question. I nodded my consent, unable to deny her anything.
"Here." Emmy held out the bag of food to the mother. "Food you and your babies."
Wide frightened, silver, and blue eyes darted between Emmy and me. Romvesians were proud. Most would take thecharity offer with great insult. Then again, most didn't have two younglings crying with hunger.
Long, slender, pale-lavender fingers took the satchel from Emmy’s grip as the mother’s head dipped and held in a show of gratitude.
Emmy's eyes found mine, and in their green depths, I saw her heartbreak for the small family, the wish to do more to help them, and the knowing sadness she could not. Her hand found mine again, her fingers holding surprising strength as they twined around mine.
