“I shall leave you here,” Nenn said.
“What?Why?”she asked, taking a step toward his voice.
“We are on a mission to find killers.As a medic—”
“I get it,” she muttered, flicking a dismissive wrist.He couldn’t babysit her forever.She pursed her lips, desperate to understand why she didn’t want him to go.
“I will return for you,hirihadie.”
“If you live,” she snapped, then scrunched her face at her angry tone.
He chuckled: low, husky, and sexy.“I am hard to kill.”
“When you’re shirtless?”She huffed.“At least put on some protection.Or…don’t go.”She winced, shut her mouth, marched to the chair and sat.
“Tiny,” he said, his body warmth at her knees.“Iamarmored.”He cupped her cheek, holding her still.“My symbiotes form it when I am in danger.”
She layered her hand over his.“Your what?”A ping shot across her temple when she tried to unravel what he’d said.
“Inside every Qaldreth are symbiotes that carry the memories of our ancestors.Anything we do is recorded for all to remember.”
“T-cells,” she whispered, her eyes widening.
She leaped to her feet, then darted around him to grab the 3D model.“Like this?Vic’s got these in her.”
“Yes,” he said, laughter in his voice.“Our symbiotes.”The model left her hands.“This is brilliant.Is this how you ‘see?’”
His admiration made her soul sing.“It’s fascinating to hold it,” she hurried to say to hide her breathlessness.
“Do you have one for Vic’s robotic creatures?”
“Her what?”She frowned.“Do you mean her nanites?”
He hummed.“Is that what you call them?”
“It is.I can ask the printer to make a model for you.”She raised her chin to the ceiling.“Computer, print a 3D representation of a nanite found in Vic’s blood.”
“Starting job now,” Computer said, accompanied by the whirring hum of the 3D printer.
“I like your med bay.Mine is not as well-fitted.”He caught her hand and stroked across her fingertips.
Somehow, she doubted that.“But you have that med-dev.”
“It is designed for urgent care on battlegrounds.”He caressed her knuckles, around her wrists, then to her elbows.She pinched her lips, trying to hide the goose bumps rippling through her even as she relished being touched.“For serious injuries, a pod fitted to the wall slides out when summoned.It caters for the full height of an Ivoyan.”
“Oh,” she gasped, splaying her fingers across his torso.Judging by how high she had to lift her arms, he was far from short.“How tall are you?”
“Six feet.An Ivoyan reaches seven feet on average.”
She smiled.Here was a world she’d never encountered.Everywhere she went were humans.Qaldreths and Ivoyans were aliens, proving there was life in that black expanse humans had yet to discover.“Do you come from Ivoy?”
“If you mean was I born there?No.My home is Qaldreth.I am Giniiri—the volcanic tribe.”
Her jaw dropped.No wonder he smelled like hot rocks and gave off such heat.Was that normal?Did all Qaldreth burn hotter than humans?What type of upbringing did he have?Were there parents, siblings, or was he raised by a village?How did he become a medic?What made him choose such a path?How did he get to Ivoy?
“Is your world advanced enough to space travel?”Out of all her questions, that slipped out.She almost stamped her foot in frustration.
“No.The Ivoyans collect those who pass the rite of Uhann.”His tone lowered as if the subject hit a nerve.“That was…not a good day for me.”He cleared his throat.“A discussion for another time.”