“Again, thankfully I am not,” he muttered, his tone dry. Despite his show of neighborly politeness there was plainly no love lost between the two. “But I believe you may move about without fear of discovery now.”
Her sore muscles cried out in protest and she couldn’t help a groan as she stood. She was still wearing her boots and the blister rubbing her right heel made her grit her teeth as she gained her feet.
At the pained sound she made, he turned to face her, startled. “What is it?”
For an instant Ke’lar’s concerned expression, the fine, high cheekbones and square-jaw of his face, the intelligence in his bright blue gaze, made him, despite his rippled brow and glowing eyes, his growled language, seem . . .
Human.
“Nothing,” she mumbled. “I’m fine.”
His fingers went gently under her jaw to tilt her face up.
“You are injured,” he growled, his focus on her swollen, bruised chin.
“Oh,” Summer agreed. “Yeah, thanks to Ar’ar, I’m a mess.”
He bared his fangs, his alien visage utterly savage, and she recoiled, any resemblance to the humanity she had seen a moment ago vanishing instantly.
“He did this to you?” he snarled.
“No. That’s not what I meant.” She gave a dismissive wave, wincing as she shifted her weight. That was one bitch of a blister on her right heel. “I did all this by myself. Apparently, if there’s one thing about escaping from an alien fortress for me isn’t, it’s graceful.”
“But this—” He indicated her chin. “It is not the result of a hand strike? You are certain it is not from a blow? That it occurred during your flight from the Betari clanhall?”
“Actually, that one occurred during my fall from the Betari clanhall last night,” Summer said, wincing as she touched the sore spot. “To get out of Ar’ar’s quarters I had to climb from one balcony to the next. On the bright side I might have conquered my fear of heights. Space Mountain, here I come.”
“From one balcony to the—” His brow furrowed. “How high within the Betari clanhall are your mate’s quarters?”
“Don’t call him that!” she flared. “He’s not my mate. He’s not my fucking anything!”
Ke’lar blinked and Summer’s face heated at her outburst.
“Eight flights,” she muttered.
“You—” His glowing eyes widened. “You jumped—at night—between balconies eight stories above the ground?”
“Actually there’s some decorative carving that goes around the clanhall there. I got between them crossing on that.”
His gaze ran down her body again. “You said you fell—”
“Well, I didn’t fall all the way, obviously,” she said impatiently. “Just from the carving to the next balcony. But I busted my chin up, my elbows too. Look.” She took a step to move around him. “If you don’t mind—”
“I do mind.” He moved to block her way. “To have concealed you from your lawful clan—and one with long-standing enmity to my own—is a very serious matter. There are things we must discuss. Choices to be made.”
“Like what?”
His eyes narrowed a bit at the suspicion in her tone. “I do not seek to trade my assistance in return for coupling with you, if that is your concern.”
Summer shifted her weight since she’d been thinking precisely that. “Good, ’cause that’ll happen when hell freezes over.”
“Why did the Betari lie about their hunt for you?” he demanded. “Why would they seek to hide your presence within their clan?”
“I don’t know. But then again, I don’t really understand a lot of things your people do.”
“They claimed to be hunting a fugitive.” He folded his arms, a wall of muscle between her and the shelter exit. “Did you break clan directive?”
“If clan directive includes making a run for it instead of breeding a bunch of half-humans for them against my will, then hell yeah, I broke their damn directive. Anything else?” she asked. “Or are we good?”
His face tightened. “I find the Betari clanbrothers’ deception, their attempt to conceal the presence of a human female on their enclosure, very suspect—and disturbing. It is important that I discover their reasons.”
“Absolutely. You ponder that good.” Summer shifted her weight again. “Are we done?”
His nostrils flared. “To assure your safety—as well as mine—we need to have these questions answered now.”
“Actually, what I really need right now,” she grumbled, pushing past him, “is to pee.”
Three
“Have you finished relieving yourself?”
“You know—” Summer began, still squatting behind the tree. The moons were waxing, their cool light bright enough to allow her to see pretty well. His g’hir vision was better, of course, but his back was turned and he was determinedly looking the other way. “The fact that you followed me over here and listened to me pee and even asked me that question is freaking weird. Even for an alien.”
“I meant—” he growled, “do you require a cleansing cloth?”
Funny how a couple short years ago a conversation like this would have left her mortified.
How things change . . .