Elchan laughed as he rolled out of bed and headed for the door. “I believe I have work to do.”
Janwar clapped a hand on his shoulder as he passed, grateful for his friend’s continued blood donations.
He was grateful to Simone, too. He’d overheard how swiftly she’d come to Elchan’s defense, disparaging those who had denigrated his friend. She had a kind heart and probably had no idea how much her approval meant.
Elchan’s father hadn’t just publicly disavowed him and labeled Elchan damaged. He’d done his best to exile him, taking his son’s reputed “failure” as a personal affront. Over the years, he had blackened his son’s name so efficiently that most Segonian women had steered clear of Elchan, some even going so far as to avoid making eye contact when they passed him. Since the Segonian people as a whole were much more accepting of differences than that, Janwar did not doubt that—rather than finding Elchan lacking—the women had instead worried that Elchan’s father would turn his ire on them if they associated with him.
But Elchan was convinced the women spurned him because they feared his faulty genes would be passed on to any children he would sire.
Simone, however, viewed him as a whole warrior. She considered all of the Tangata’s crew badass warriors worthy of kindness, respect, and friendship.
Recalling the embrace they’d shared earlier, he wondered if she might perhaps view him as worthy of more.
His heart began to pound as she approached, a blush staining her cheeks. Her hair cascaded down her back in a damp, silky curtain that started to draw up into waves as it dried.
“What brings you to Med Bay?” she asked, changing the subject.
“You do.”
Her eyebrows rose. “Why? What’s on your mind?”
Her. Always. Simone was a constant distraction Janwar welcomed like rain in a desert. “I wanted to show you something before last meal.”
Curiosity wiped the embarrassment from her features. “Okay.”
Taking her hand, he felt as if he’d just won a tournament when she didn’t object.
Together they left Med Bay and strolled down the corridor.
“Thank you,” he said softly.
“For what?”
He glanced over his shoulder to ensure Elchan wasn’t nearby. “For your kindness. Elchan has not received much of it during his lifetime.”
She frowned. “That’s disappointing. I thought member nations of the Aldebarian Alliance were smarter than that, that they’d moved beyond disliking people because of their differences.”
“They are, and they have. Others like Elchan enjoy happy lives on Segonia because most of the Segonian people are as accepting as the Lasarans. But his father is amongst the few who aren’t. And he made Elchan’s life a—what was the phrase Lisa used?—a living hell.”
“Well, someone needs to kick his father’s ass.” Her face brightened suddenly as she looked up at him. “Ooh. I’ll do it,” she offered eagerly. “I can even humiliate him in public by making him cower in fear before I wipe the floor with him. Or better yet, make him grovel before Elchan and publicly beg his forgiveness for being such an ass.”
Laughter rolled through him. “That’s something I would very much like to see.”
“Me, too. Elchan’s a good guy.” She smiled. “You’re all good guys.”
He squeezed her hand. “Many believe otherwise.”
“That’s their loss then,” she said with a shrug. “Fortunately, I judge people by their actions, not by what others say about them. And why wouldn’t I? I know how bad it feels to be feared, hated, or even hunted because I’m different. I’ve lost count of the number of Earthlings who tried to kill me once they began to suspect what I am.”
He slowed to a halt. “What? Why?”
“I’m an empath. I could do things they couldn’t. I was different. I am different, even more so since I was infected with the damned Gathendien virus. And being different doesn’t go over well back home.”
“Then why the srul does Lasara want to form an alliance with Earth?”
“Not with Earth. With Seth, the leader of the Immortal Guardians, who also watches over gifted ones like Lisa. Seth would like nothing more than to find a place where we can all live in peace without having to hide our differences.”
“And Lasara hopes your women will help them repopulate?”
“Yes.”
It sounded like an alliance would benefit both parties.
They resumed their walk, a companionable silence enfolding them as they turned up another corridor.
After a moment, Janwar realized he was smiling. It was odd how something as simple as strolling alongside Simone with her small hand tucked in his could be so pleasurable, calling forth a sense of peace he hadn’t experienced in years.
He liked it.
“He we are,” he announced as they reached the entrance to the garden. Pressing his palm to the reader, he opened the stovicun crystal door.
A warm breeze rushed out to welcome them, brushing the hair back from their shoulders. Trees shaded this entrance, their leaves whispering as the manufactured wind wafted through them.
Simone closed her eyes and breathed it in. “This is so much better than the recycled air on the Kandovar and the escape pod.”
“Or on the Gathendien ship?”
She laughed. “Yeah. Their air smelled like stagnant swamp water.”
Together they ambled along a path as the door shut behind them.
“Do birds or other creatures in the park ever sneak out into the rest of the ship?”
“Yes.” He sent her a sheepish look. “Catching and returning them has become something of a sport for us, alleviating the boredom that traveling long distances can generate.”
She grinned.
A chittering in the tree they walked beneath drew their gazes upward.
“You have the cutest squirrels here. They look like they have lions’ manes.”
“They are cute.” As was she. “And rinyas aren’t as destructive as some of their counterparts.” He smiled down at her. “Kova keeps one in his quarters as a pet.”
She started to speak but seemed to forget whatever she’d intended to say when her gaze shifted to the path ahead. Some of the joy left her expression as her footsteps slowed to a halt.
The trees in front of them thinned, allowing bright, simulated sunlight to reach the ground.
“I can’t go that way,” she reminded him. “Can we leave the path and continue in the shade?”
Moving to stand in front of her, he clasped both of her hands. “Do you trust me, Simone?”
“Yes.”
He stared down at her as a thrill raced through him. She hadn’t even hesitated, hadn’t spoken slowly as though unsure. And he read no doubt in her pretty brown eyes.
His hold on her hands tightened as he dropped his gaze to her full, pink lips. His pulse leapt. He wanted to taste them so badly at that moment. But that wasn’t why he’d brought her here.
Slowly, he began to walk backward along the path.
She looked past his shoulder to the light beyond. Though her throat worked in a hard swallow and her fingers tightened on his, she didn’t balk or drag her footsteps. She merely followed his lead. And drek, that one act of trust despite what must surely be a certainty that it would cause her pain won his heart then and there.