Page 9 of 20% Blood 80%
Safely locked inside the hovertube, D’alton shifted in his seat and ran his purple tongue over his sharp fangs. “Are there any Boola here?”
It wasn’t what I’d thought he’d ask. I remembered their sharp-toothed grins. Eighty Boola had occupied the research station, their laughter the loudest among the two-hundred and five staff. “Not anymore.”
He flinched. “Is there blood stored on-site?”
What an odd question. “Possibly in the med bay. But we’re not getting in there anytime soon.”
“Damn this hellfire mission.” D’alton dropped his face into his hands, only to snap it up once more, clutching his ribs with a long groan. “Don’t suppose there’s a doctor about to magically appear?”
I smiled at him, though his jet-black lips were pressed together in a grimace. “Not unless you can conjure one.”
“What about coms? I need to let my brother know I’m all right.”
I hated being the bearer of bad news. “TheFires That Cleansemelted the satellite.”
He slumped farther into his chair, and I followed the swell of his Adam’s apple as it bobbed up and down his long, smooth throat twice.
The hovertube came to a stop, and the doors to level thirty-one opened. “Home sweet home. Welcome to paradise.” My sarcasm was about as pleasing as the rank scent flooding my nose. It must have been ten times worse for him with his heightened Boola senses.
“Sola have mercy. What is that horrid odor?”
“That’s the aroma of life. Rotting plants.” I chuckled. The biodomes produced so much food that most of it ended up in an enormous compost pile. “Now let me see what I can do to get you fixed up.”
4
Thewheelsofthetransport chair hummed over the grated floor as Sterling wheeled me through the cavernous research station. The pain I’d been shielding myself against trickled into the back of my mind, and I ground the sharp edges of my teeth back and forth.
Unless he offered up his blood, Sterling Peoples had no chance of “fixing me up,” no matter how much I wished those capable hands that had carried my battered body could heal me. Blant, I was tired of keeping it together.
My nostrils flared. An intoxicating scent mixed with Sterling’s sweat—whisper berries. A lethal combination to my vanishing self-control.
I’d never drunk from anyone but a Boola… What would an Earther taste like? What wouldthisEarther taste like? The tip of my fang pierced my lip, and I licked over the sting. The mind-clearing prick reminded me of what D’iver had said. “It’s simple. Your body will be drawn to the most nourishing source.” It meant Sterling’s blood could sustain me.
Simple. I snorted, gripping my ribs at the sharp twinge. This might be the most complicated mess I’d ever found myself in, all thanks to my brother and his shortcuts. I’d bet a lifetime of family dinner dishes that D’iver hadn’t completed the pre-flight checklist, just like he’d forgotten aboutthe containment system that I was rushing to deliver for no apparent reason, because this place was…
Blant, my head hurt! I cupped it in my hands, immediately dropping them when my ribs twinged. I focused on the long stretch of hanging ductwork that covered the low ceiling. Anything to distract my brain from the throbbing…and my irresponsible brother. If I compartmentalized the pain much longer, I wouldn’t be able to form a coherent sentence. And I was dangerously close to revealing my need for blood.
A hot bolt of desire churned in my stomach as I replayed the moment I’d removed the empty oxy tank mask from Sterling’s face. Beneath his milky skin, short bristles ran over his square chin like a tinga fruit’s spikes. The mask had been hiding the mean jaw of a warrior, clenched with determination. A once-broken nose and sharp cheekbones softened into hair so luxurious looking that I wanted to thread my fingers through it. My heart thudded in my chest.
Sola’s hell, what were the odds of being trapped and entirely dependent on the most handsome male I’d ever seen?
The chair bumped over a hose lying across the floor, jarring my aching ribs. I hugged my chest and stifled a moan. “Are we just about there?” Though hurting, I was thankful for the pain. The last thing I needed to be thinking of was how pretty my purple tongue would look against his pale collarbone as I licked it.
“Shit. I’ll be more careful. My head’s in the clouds.”
It was a blessing I couldn’t see his face when he leaned forward and his silky strands brushed over my shoulders, sending shivers through my body that had nothing to do with pain. With a mind of its own, my filthy hand reached up to finger a length. “Pretty hair.”
“You must be really out of it.” He chuckled before his voice took on a more serious note. “Stupid fucking med kit better have some pain relievers.”
I flinched and let go of Sterling’s hair, going back to staring at the jagged gash in my thigh that was still oozing blood I couldn’t afford to lose. I racked my muddy brain for something intelligent to say. Something to cover up the nonsense. My vision faded in and out as I switched my focus to the enormous fans circling overhead, but they only made me dizzy. “I meant to ask what happened to the air?”
“Sterling Peoples?” That female voice spoke over the speaker system again.
Sterling paused, and I turned to see him press a spot behind his ear. “Yes, C?”
“There are a few new issues to contend with. Biodome Tig requires your attention. There’s a blockage in the water recycler.”
Sterling leaned into my back and resumed pushing. “Give me an hour, C.”
