Page 42 of Decadence

She needed a wad of something; a pad to soak up all that blood.

Now Emmett was there in front of them, his face ashen grey, his hands trembling. “S-Sienna… wh-what the hell is—”

“No time,” she rasped. “There’s no way I’m letting him die. No fucking way.” She pressed harder against Ikriss’s wound. Pure black blood seeped between her fingers.

“I’m going to take my hands off now. You take over. Don’t miss a beat. Lean on his side with both hands, the way you were taught when you learned Universal First Aid. You’re stronger and heavier. You can apply more pressure. Do it, Emmett.” She was shouting now, but she didn’t care.

Her friend didn’t ask a single question. He just nodded. Bless you, Emmett.

“On the count of three,” she snapped.

“One, two, three…”

Like a well-oiled machine, they swapped.

Emmett’s face hardened as he pushed against Ikriss’s bleeding wound. Like every Federation Citizen, he’d undergone mandatory Universal First Aid training. He knew about applying basic pressure to stop a bleed.

Sienna wasted no time. She reached for the ties of her apron, only to realize that it wasn’t there; it had come loose when Ikriss had pulled her to shelter beneath a workbench. Her insides clenched as she remembered the feeling of his honed body pressing closely against hers, warding off her terror.

And now he was disastrously wounded.

He’d done it for her.

Sienna’s fingers fumbled around buttons as she tore off her white shirt and fashioned it into a thick wad. “I’ll put this under your hands. One, two…”

“Three,” they said in unison.

Sienna jammed the shirt beneath Emmett’s large palms and watched as the pristine white fabric quickly became stained with black Kordolian blood.

“Not human,” Emmett gasped.

“No,” Sienna whispered, shaking her head in shock and horror.

“What the fuck, Sienna?” Emmett’s hands were trembling. His face was ashen. She’d never seen him so shaken before.

Cleo appeared above them, frantically pointing at her link-band, her brown eyes holding barely concealed horror. “I’ve called Enforcement. They’ll be here in two minutes.” She stared down at Ikriss and his unnamed attacker. “Ambulance arriving in one.”

Enforcement?

Ambulance?

But Sienna had no chance to decide whether that was a good idea or not, because at that moment, a dozen black-armored, black-helmed, armed-to-the-teeth Kordolian warriors burst in from all directions, surrounding them with the promise of death and destruction.

“Holy shit,” Emmett managed to blurt, before he was yanked back by a powerful arm.

Even Emmett, who was as strong as an ox and scared of practically nobody, was no match for these powerful, terrifying aliens.

“Move,” a cold voice ordered, and one of the Kordolians dropped to a crouch and applied some sort of strange black patch to Ikriss’s chest.

To her intense relief, the bleeding stopped almost immediately.

Sienna stared at Ikriss’s face. The strange disguise glasses were gone, lying somewhere in the total dumpster fire of destruction that was her kitchen.

His stern silver features were tight and drawn. His skin looked a shade paler, and his eyes fluttered rapidly, his long white lashes parting to reveal a glimpse of amber.

In the background, two of the warriors were restraining the mysterious attacker, who wore a strange skintight suit made from shimmering material that changed color with the light and shadows. A shattered white mask covered half his face, and through the cracks, Sienna could see pale alien skin—a shade somewhere between silver and white.

What the hell was he?

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