Having her admit to being a bounty hunter hadn’t bothered him, but that was because he really hadn’t thought about how dangerous the job was. She’d said she dealt with murders and violent criminals, but he’d always pictured her subduing them early. It never occurred to him how much time she’d probably spent with them unprotected.
Going up against a Tulk? How often did that end in violence? She’d gotten hurt fighting the two men hunting for him, but he’d thought that was an anomaly. What if she was injured on a regular basis?
How many times had she almost died? That made him think about how dangerous this situation was, and all of a sudden it was much too real.
“If Han dies because of your children, I’ll never forgive you!” he yelled at Sandar. “She’s so small and fragile. Don’t you realize—”
Sandar held up her hand and he went silent.
“I understand you’re in distress and not thinking clearly,” she said. “Those are my children and my husband with your human. Don’t you think I’m scared also?”
Despite her soft voice, her words carried enough power to push the anger out of him. Deflated, he sagged against the closed hatch.
“How can you be so calm?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. “We could lose everyone.”
“I’m here,” Tumoro said, edging closer. The young Ugarian looked scared and anxious. He’d been mostly calm before, so his current agitation was a direct result of Zeph’s outburst. Guilt hit Zeph hard.
Like humans, Ugarians liked a lot of physical contact. Zeph pushed aside all the taboos he was raised with. Straightening away from the hatch, he opened his arms to offer Tumoro a clutch or cling.
He flew at Zeph, wrapping his arms tightly around Zeph’s body. He was shaking, and a slight sob bubbled out of him. “I’m so scared,” he whispered. “I only just got a new family. I can’t lose any of you!”
Tumoro was barely an adult and had been thrust out into the universe without a safety net. Out of all of them, he was the one who’d experienced true abandonment and loss.
Between Sandar’s quiet words and Tumoro’s need for reassurance, Zeph found his control. He was no good to anyone if he let base emotions control him.
Wrapping his arms around the thin Ugarian, he squeezed hard. It was the right thing to do. Tumoro let out a long breath and the soft sobs abated.
The hatch behind them shifted and slid open. He let go of Tumoro, eager to greet everyone, except only Rensom stepped through.
“We had to go with Han’s third plan,” he stated grimly.
“No!” Zeph said and almost went out the hatch, but Rensom was quick to shove him back.
“We wait for a mark. If she’s not here then, I go after her,” Rensom reminded him.
“Zephrum, remember what Han told you before she left,” Sandar said, getting clumsily to her feet to join Rensom near the hatch.
Zeph rubbed his hands over his face before answering Sandar. “Have faith in me.” He met Sandar’s gaze. “I have faith in her, but she’s such a tiny human in a vicious universe.”
“At that level, we’re all tiny,” Sandar pointed out.
“That doesn’t make me feel any better,” he said.
“It wasn’t meant to,” she answered. “It’s to remind you that when you look at the whole length and breadth of the universe, we’re all helpless. If it all ends today, I won’t regret anything I’ve done because I got to experience true joy. Few Talins can say that.”
“I can,” Zeph murmured. “And I want more of it.”
I have faith,he repeated in his head like a mantra.I have faith. I have faith. I have faith.
Han
Han wasn’t surprised when she got Rensom’s message on the small information square she had tucked in her wrap. She’d guessed that Plan C was the most likely. At least it wasn’t as risky as Plan D, but it was still going to be rough.
“Human Han! Human Han!” one of the kids yelled as they ran up to her. “I won this game!”
She waved her hands with excitement. “That’s amazing!”
“I almost won,” another child said. “Next time I know I’ll win.”
