“Are there more humans?” I ask. She bites her lip, looking from one member of the Order to the next. Fear and uncertainty are written plainly across her face. She nods at last. I deliberately soften my voice to say, “How many?”
“I’m not telling you,” she says. “Leave us alone.”
She confuses me. Why would I leave her alone? Does she not feel the connection throbbing between us? As I look at her, the world keeps clicking further into place, as if everything in my entire life has been nothing but a prelude leading me to this moment. To her.
I don’t understand, but I don’t want to force her into anything either. Swallowing my hurt and confusion, I hold my hands up, palms facing her.
“It is dangerous,” I say. “There are more of them. We will protect you.”
My brethren are stomping through the oasis looking for the others. Typhon and Pachua are close by, but the others are looking for the humans. We shouldn’t stay here for long, there may well be more Invaders not far away.
There is a commotion inside the trees, and then a human male runs out. He is screaming, almost as if he himself is a female. I stare in amazement. Why he is acting like this?
“No! Stay away! No! No! No!” he screams, and now he’s running in a circle while Nidhus, Mageir, and Iriden attempt to corral and calm him. They’re not helping the situation. I rise up and look at Pachua and Typhon.
“Stop that,” I order.
They salute and go to intervene. I return my attention to my mate. I don’t understand her any more than I understand that male acting as he is.
“I have been looking for you,” I start again. “For a very long time. I’ve felt your presence—here.” I hold my hand over my chest.
She arches one eyebrow then climbs to her feet.
“You’re kidding,” she says.
“I would never joke about this,” I say. “You are my treasure. I’ve looked for you everywhere, or so I thought. I am grateful to finally find you.”
She snorts, covering her mouth with the back of her hand. This must be a human custom. I am not aware of its import or meaning, though. Her eyes glisten with moisture. “Tears,” they call this “tears” in her kind. I’ve studied all the data we had on her race. It doesn’t clarify what is happening because, unfortunately, our research shows they can shed them for both joy and sadness.
It is a wasteful exercise, but then humans aren’t genetically predisposed to life on Tajss. She will need epis so her body can adjust. It will also improve her ability to bear our children.
“We don’t need your help,” a human male yells, jerking my attention away from her.
My blood warms. All I want is to talk to my mate. Why, in the name of Tajss, do there have to be so many distractions? Her attention is drawn to the disagreement, which angers me more. I’ll have to deal with this first.
“One moment, my treasure,” I say, turning away.
“I’m not your treasure,” she says, but I ignore that.
A human male is glaring at Vae and Mageir. His hands are balled into fists, his face is flushed red, and he’s shaking. The tension in the air is so thick it’s become hard to breathe. I find my center, pulling calm over myself. Standing straighter, holding my head high, and squaring my shoulders as I assume the manner of a Council Member.
“What is happening?” I ask, pointedly ignoring the human male.
“This male and the others,” Vae says, motioning towards the gathered humans, “are declining our assistance.”
“We don’t need any filthy lizards to help us,” the male says.
“Petras, seriously,” my treasure says, inserting herself into the conversation.
The one she calls Petras shoots a hateful glare in her direction. Rage consumes my thoughts like an erupting fire, and I step towards him before I can slam in control. Even so, my thoughts are tinged with red and the pulsing desire to harm him for daring to look at her in such a way.
“Petras,” I say, and it comes out like a curse. “Your people need our help. We will get you to the City and your own kind.”
“I already said we don’t need your help,” he snaps. “Are you deaf as well as dumb?”
Vae tightens his grip on his lochaber and Iriden growls. Petras has enough sense to take a step back from them, but he’s not going to back down. I look the humans over. They’re dirty and exhausted. Their clothes are torn, and most of them are weaving on their feet, barely able to remain standing. The idea they will make it on their own is laughable.
“Invaders?” I ask.
“Your friends?” Petras asks.
“We are also running from them,” I admit. “Let us help you.”
“We. Don’t. Need. You,” he bites off each word.
“Then tell me,” I say. “How will you reach the City on your own? Tajss has many more dangers than Invaders. Not to mention, they’ve found you once.”
“I’m taking their machines.” He points to their vehicles.
“That is not a good idea,” I say.
My treasure moves closer and my hearts beat faster. Blood races to my brain making me light-headed. She’s approaching. The connection between us is throbbing with pent up energy. She feels it too!
My stomach tightens as if I’ve been struck when she moves to stand next to Petras instead of me. I blink rapidly as my thoughts race. What is she doing? Why? And the softest of whispers, am I wrong?
When she touches his shoulder, I’m blinded by my own rage. My hand tightens on my lochaber. One step, one thrust, and I will end him.
“Petras,” she says. “We need them.”
“No, we don’t,” he says, turning to face her.
The other humans huddle closer around the two of them. Several of them speak, softly, but still speaking out in favor of letting us help them. Some hang back and say nothing, while others voice their agreement with Petras.
My treasure looks at me, and my chest swells. My tail stiffens and I feel like I’m taller, bigger. She is all.
“Why can’t we use their vehicles?” she asks.
“They are able to track them,” I explain. “If they go off an expected path, they will most likely send fliers and bomb them.”
“See,” she says to Petras. “He’s trying to help.”
“You’re turning into one of them,” he spits the last word.
“Shit Petras, give it up,” she says, clutching the hair on the top of her head, leaning back, and looking at the sky. “Gershom is dead. The Humans First Movement is dead. Earth isn’t going to rescue us, and we are screwed. Our home is burning! We’ve lost everything, again. How many are dead back there? All I’m saying is, letting them help us is better than dying out here on our own.”
“Fine, but I don’t trust them,” he says, turning and stomping to the back of the assembled humans.
I gaze at her with open admiration. She handled the situation as a leader. If she were a member of the Order, I’d groom her towards being a Councilor one day. Intelligent, practical, and obviously willing to do whatever it takes.
“Gather what belongings you have,” I order. “We must keep moving. This will not go unanswered by the Invaders.”