My brows rose as Zyair continued to tape his boot. I groped for a way to start what was likely to be an uncomfortable conversation, and began in Primal. “You guys are taking the boots with you?”
“The Nirzks wear them,” Zyair said. “We do not” He wiggled his long toes for emphasis.
“They don’t wear Birkenstocks, I take it.”
One arched brow rose. “Bir…ken…stocks?”
“Xandros sported some fancy orange sandals in the alley.”
One corner of his lip quirked upward. “Xandros likes to experiment.”
I supposed wearing footgear was a pain if you had to shift form in a hurry. I pointed to the boots.
“Wearing those will enable you to blend?”
“It will help. The cloaks—they will cover the rest. Nirzks are about our size, so it should work.”
I swallowed and moved on to what was bothering me. Well, one of the things, anyway. “Do you really think you can pull this off?”
Zyair added one more piece of tape to the boot. “If we do not, we will not get off this planet.”
That was the crux of it, alright.
He put the footwear down beside its mate, took a deep breath, and said, “I am sorry.”
I met his eyes. The pupils contracted, and then expanded until you could barely see the green. “For what?”
“For what happened on the bridge.”
My brows shot up and the words burst from me in English. “You’re sorry we shagged?” My voice sounded more shrill than I intended.
“Shag?”
“Had sex.”
His brows rose. “No, he said hurriedly, sticking to Primal. “I mean, yes.” He pushed his hair back off his face while I tried to decide whether to laugh or explode. “I mean that I am sorry you did not have a full understanding of what might happen.”
I exploded. “Damn the Taziers and their fucking serum.”
His brows dropped. “No. That is not the way it works. Was this not explained to you?”
“No.”
His eyes widened.
I took a deep breath and reined in my temper. “Explain it to me, then.”
He now seemed unsettled. “I am not certain Primal will have the words I need.”
“Try it in Drakonian. I understand enough, I think.”
He started speaking in his native tongue, but slowly, waiting for my nods after every few words. “The serum is designed to trigger a genetic sequence that is only present in a small percentage of human females,” he said. “When it is present, it manifests as a talent, usually.”
Ice traveled down my spine as I answered in English. “You mean that precognition thing was initiated by the serum?”
“Yes. It is a sign that you have the genetic sequence. Have you noticed any other changes?”
I stared at the way his hair shimmered ruby and gold, and it all clicked. “I’m seeing colors that I’ve never noticed before. And my irises have changed color, too.”
