Chapter 20

CHAPTER 20

THREXIN

T hrexin stood beneath the shower in his cabins, letting the water wash the human blood and uhyre exorin from his body as best it could without aggressive scrubbing. He could not move—not safely. After washing, he stood before the mirror and examined his weeping wound in the reflection.

He did not think it was infected. But the last plaster the female Alina had applied had peeled at the edges and was now dangling futilely. Threxin rummaged in the cabinet beneath his sink and pulled out a medkit, sticking the edges down with an added layer of what the label called synthskin . But his attempts, though delicate by his own account, only contributed a sticky coat of thickening substance to the one already there.

Threxin would need to remove the plaster and start from scratch. He could not read the labels well enough himself, but recognized some of the tubes and bottles as those same ones Alina had used. He would guess. Renza had had more training with medical equipment on the Elysian , but he had not been pleased with Threxin's punishment for his cohort and Threxin did not want to deal with his brother's disapproving presence .

Renza argued that punishing his cohort for "natural tendencies" was fighting a losing battle against something that could not be stopped.

Threxin simply had much more confidence in his cohort's ability to see the obvious complications fraternizing with the aliens—but more so in his cohort's ability to recognize his authority. It was his job alone to lead them all to a better life, and he would do it by force if need be. One would think logic would make Renza see the situation, but Threxin had long since learned how easily one could twist their logic to their own wants.

Threxin gritted his teeth while pouring some substance onto his exposed wound. The sutures, which had appeared straight and undisturbed when he first removed the old synthskin, now appeared melted at the edges. He'd done something wrong—and the wound was starting to sting and bubble.

"Shoq." He could not afford to further injure himself now. He had only one full day left before the jump, and would not let himself be out of commission.

He brought his wrist to his mouth to call on Renza, but hesitated.

Alina Argoud had more experience. Her hands were nimbler, more delicate, and she was more used to the equipment… Of course she was the best-suited to fix him up now. It would also be a good test of whether she could still be trusted after witnessing him dole out his punishment in the dock. She had gotten ill after, like some of the others. Humans had weak stomachs for violence, even though they inflicted it so easily themselves. He needed to see where he stood and if she was still of use to him. Yes, the female was the most logical choice.

Her hall was unguarded, which made sense. Sulky Renza had mentioned he had to follow up some leads for Orion Halen's sire, and Threxin had not yet assigned anyone back to a post in this part of the ship. There were not many residential quarters filled here regardless, so he thought it safe enough to leave this passage clear for him precisely should something like this come up. Not that he was expecting to find himself back here.

Threxin straightened his spine and rolled his shoulders before authenticating and entering Alina Argoud's cabin.

The gasp as his boots sank into the crunchy-soft surface of her ridiculous carpet was not unexpected. He noted the wetness of her face and redness of her eyes as she lifted her head from between her curled-up knees on the bed. The punishment had clearly been an emotional experience for the humans. Good. That was the point.

But her words, coming thick and strained from her seizing throat, made him halt. "Is it my turn?"

He cocked his head, spikes flicking. "Your turn?"

"Are you going to kill me next?" She hiccupped. Her gaze was fixed on his chin.

She is afraid to look at me.

He'd done it again, back at the dock. It had no name. It just happened. The sight of all that exorin and of that human female craving it so completely had drawn his attention to Alina, and when she found his eyes, he latched on without a second thought. In his gut, there was a certain yearning. He'd wanted her to be down there, and for that exorin to be his, and for her to drown in it.

A sound from Renza had drawn him back to the job of delivering his lesson, and that was bad enough. Renza had seen what happened.

Now it was clear Alina thought he was there to deliver another punishment, for the night before. It would make sense to cut the rot at the foundation. But she was still useful, and she hadn't had a taste of the exorin. He just needed to make sure it stayed that way.

"No," he said gruffly. She drew back against the wall as Threxin stepped further into the cabin to stand at the bed. He reached up and pulled apart the edges of his shirt, in too much pain to care about the clasps. He hissed as fabric peeled from the weeping wound.

The female's fearful posture melted away at once as her eyes fell to his exposed chest. She sat up on her knees, reaching out without even asking permission to pull the fabric open further with delicate fingers, exposing more skin.

"That doesn't look right," she said, bending forward. "It's corroding."

"I attempted to clean it." Threxin stifled a hiss as she brushed a fingertip against one of the edges of peeling plaster.

"Show me?" she said. She got off the bed, too close for his liking as she maneuvered around him and into her bathroom. When she dumped the contents of her medical kit on her bed, Threxin attempted to find tubes which matched those he'd used, but he was uncertain.

"Your quarters probably have a more extensive kit," Alina guessed. "Some of the stuff that could make it look like that needs to be treated differently, but I…" She shook her head, frowning at the wound. "I can't tell like this."

Threxin sighed and even that sent stabbing pangs into his ribs as they expanded and stretched the injured skin. His wound was on fire, and at this rate…

"It'll eat through the stitches. Take me to your cabin so I can see what you used," Alina said.

His first inclination was to refuse. He wanted to spend as little time near this female as possible. But the flesh was looking and feeling worse by the tick, and Threxin would rather do this in his uncomfortably large quarters than here, in the dangerous intimacy of such a small cabin.

"Come," he said.

Threxin led Alina Argoud back to his quarters through the nearest blood passage, avoiding being spotted by either of their kinds. His cabins contained a passage entrance within them, a secret convenience Threxin was now very relieved to have.

By the time they stepped into his cabins, the melting had begun affecting the sutures holding together his wound. He directed Alina into his cavernous bathroom. Without hesitation, the female began trawling through the bottles and tubes he'd left out on the counter, peering at the labels.

It occurred to Threxin that it had barely been a few ticks since she watched him execute two of her kind. And still she was here.

What if it was a trap? What if she realized her mistake in helping him and was now intending to finish the job the assassin had started?

Of course, he'd never let her get far enough as to cause serious damage. It was the thought of having her there, pretending to want to help when beneath the surface she was repulsed by him.

It does not matter.

"This is caustic," Alina said, holding up a bottle. "Is this what you used?"

"Yes."

"Looks like you've got a neutralizer here." She picked up some other containers and the synthskin cream. "You should sit down for this."

Threxin left the bathroom knowing she would follow. It was in her nature. He should never have gotten close or curious enough to deduce that, yet here they were. He sat on the edge of the sofa in the main receiving cabin, feet planted wide on the heated floor.

She kept her eyes on his chest, and part of him wanted to grab her face and force her to look at him. But he only watched as the female lowered herself to kneel between his legs. Alina Argoud cleared her throat and dispensed a dollop of ointment to the tips of her fingers.

He watched her preparations. Her long black lashes had gotten clumped from earlier tears. Her eyes were still rimmed and red and puffy, but now dry. It was as if the female could focus on only one thing at a time: caring for him or panicking, not both. Threxin reclined into the sofa's backrest, arms splayed on either side of him, and let her work.

"I think the stitches will be fine," she muttered, leaning in. "They were due to start dissolving soon anyway."

The neutralizing ointment she applied to his wound was cool and pleasant, softening the chemical sting that had burrowed itself under his skin.

"You are a medic," Threxin said as he watched her shift for a better position beneath him.

"No. I just picked up the basics."

"When?"

"Some, a long time ago, for my mom. Most, over the last few days."

Then she was a fast learner—one more point to her usefulness.

Once the ointment had absorbed, Alina Argoud held a syringe without a needle to the wound and pushed out a dollop of pinkish artificial skin. She sucked in a cheek as she worked, lips pressed into a thin line.

"What you did…" she began.

There it was. "Was necessary. "

Alina blinked rapidly and jerked her chin in a nod. "I know."

"Do you?"

This was the human who could not bring herself to kill him, her enemy, when she had a chance. How could she possibly understand? Alina Argoud layered the paste across his skin with the pad of her finger. She tossed the fur-clump from her eyes with a jerk of the head and pinched the tip of her red tongue between her teeth, angling herself to shape the application into a neat seal on his chest.

"You could have let them Upload," she said.

"There is no exorin in your Heaven," he retorted. Threxin did not know if addictions persisted in Heaven, but that was not the point. If he intended to keep the uhyre and aliens on his ship under control, swift consequences were necessary.

Alina Argoud's gaze flicked upward then, but they both averted their eyes. He focused instead on the work of her hands. Threxin did not trust himself not to do it again. She worked fast, practiced fingers steadying as they went. In the days before, she had applied such dressings slowly and carefully. Now she was rushing. Getting it over with.

"You have seen your kind's footage from your Earth?" Threxin asked.

Alina nodded, not pausing her work. "Yes."

"You have seen uhyre footage from then?"

"Yes." Her hands hesitated over his chest for only a moment.

"Then you know the risks." Threxin did not know why he felt compelled to explain himself to this creature.

"Couldn't just pull a tooth out like with your kind though, could you?" Alina bit her lip as the retort left her, patting down the new synthskin at its edges.

"And leave humans who are dependent on my cohort for the remainder of their lives? If we are to avoid the peril of your Earth, we must be separated. Completely. Your kind cannot handle anything more."

" My kind," she scoffed. "Like it was our fault."

"It was," Threxin said, confused at the lack of self-awareness.

"You were the vicious ones! You got us hooked and used us. You hunted us down in droves!"

"You begged for it. Like those two did tonight. Did you not see them?"

Her lip quivered as the truth was foisted upon her, but she had to know he was right. She had to realize keeping addicted humans around was unsustainable—a plague that would rip through the rest of the population, both human and uhyre. The gravity—the risk —could not be overstated.

"I'm done," she said a tick later. "It wasn't that bad, but you should keep an eye on it until the stitches fully dissolve and take it easy for a few more days. You… shouldn't have left last night. It was too soon."

Threxin turned away, flexing his talons.

"Can you postpone the jump?" she suggested.

"No." He needed to get to the edge of human space. Trajectories were already set, and postponing now would only raise more questions after his absence. And why was she still sitting there like that right in front of him, kneeling between his feet, her palms folded on her thighs? "Get up."

The haste with which the female pushed off and to her feet pleased him. He rose after her, exhaling a sigh when his chest did not ache with the movement. Whatever protection she applied there minimized the pain.

"I will escort you back," he said.