Page 8 of The Naga Inventor's Clever Mate

A brush against my hand made me squeak with fear, and Corin jerked upright, his body swaying, but his hands raised, holding a third knife he’d pulled from somewhere. It was just the bot, no longer trembling from fear. It beeped a few times gently as it scooted past me in the cramped space. “What are you doing?” I asked, though I knew it was silly to expect an answer.

“Beep, bop, beeeeeeep,” the bot responded as it scooted itself beneath the shoulder joint of the robot. Its round dome top made a scraping sound as it made contact with the metal. Then the little bot raised itself a little taller with another determined-sounding beep. Holy crap, it was doing it! It was just a tiny bit of space, but that was all I needed to yank my legs free from beneath the metal beast.

With a wild spinning move, the little bot freed itself from beneath the robot carcass, and I swore it danced for me. A triumphant little spin and twirl after a successfully completed task. It was freaking adorable. “If you didn’t name it,” I said to Corin, “then I’m declaring its name is now Triff. For centrifugal force.”

I raised my eyes from the triumphant little robot and looked at my silvery-blue Naga companion. “Ah, fuck!” He was about to collapse again. My legs ached fiercely as I clambered to my knees. Pins and needles—the whole kit and caboodle. I ignored it and scrambled over the downed robot to get to Corin, hands outstretched so I could touch his still-bleeding ears.

At the last moment, I froze in place and stared. If I touched him, it would only succeed because he was too hurt to move out of my way. It felt wrong to take advantage of that. But how could I help without crossing that boundary?

Chapter 6

Corin

The pain in my head was the worst I’d ever experienced. I could barely see straight, and my ears didn’t work for shit, but soundwascoming back slowly. It was my equilibrium that was completely messed up. Everything spun around me, and I had never been this close to vomiting unaided by Iave’s home-brewed Absael.

I’d take this pain any time over the utter horror and fear I’d felt when I discovered the Revenant beast had charged Min-Ji. That image was engraved on my brain, and I would see it whenever I closed my eyes to sleep. My proud, brave female braced against the charge as she fired her strange weapon into its maw. Then her tumble, and the claws swiping for her belly.

I thought I’d lost her, that I’d be too late. I still didn’t know how I’d made it from the floor and onto the back of the Revenant to strike it with my blades. That I’d managed was a miracle, a sign of that power that came with protecting one’s mate. Thinking about that moment made me fear she was bleeding from a grave wound, and I raised my eyes to frantically search her body.

Things had changed since I’d killed the Revenant. I thought I’d managed to stay conscious, but Min-Ji was struggling beneath the metal body. I was on it; that wasn’t what I last remembered. My weight was keeping her pinned. I tried to get up, I really did, but I felt so heavy and so dizzy. It was like I was underwater and caught in a whirlpool. It wasn’t until the silly bot made a sudden move that a burst of battle readiness gave me the strength to coil aside.

“I’m fine. Are you hurt? Good bot!” Min-Ji’s voice filtered through the pain in my head and I drew in a relieved breath. Good, my hearing wasn’t permanently gone. My fingers trembled when I sheathed the blade I was holding in my hand.

“If you didn’t name it,” Min-Ji said firmly, “Then I’m declaring its name is now Triff. For centrifugal force.” She was looking at the weirdly spinning cleaning bot with a fond expression on her face, and, of course, one hand was pressed against her chest. My insides twisted at that look. It was so adorable, and I wanted her to stop it, but I couldn’t look away.

Then she lifted her chin and looked at me, and my belly swooped—but not with nausea this time. I didn’t even hear what she said next; I just watched as she scrambled over the body of the Revenant to get to my side. She was graceful, even in this situation, and she looked unharmed. I drew in a relieved breath: she was safe.

She raised her hands toward my face, and I braced myself for the inevitable. I was too weak to move out of her way, to stop her from touching me. She’d find out when her fingertips brushed my skin that I was her mate, that she was meant to be mine. That’s what she’d been dying to discover for months, and I felt a thrum of excitement at the thought that she’d know the truth. It was wrong, but I wanted her to know she was mine so very badly.

It was selfish. It would put her in grave danger, but I was weak right now. I wanted nothing more than to know her touch, and for her to know my claim. Her face swam in front of mine, her expression worried but blurry. No, that was just my nictitating membranes messing things up. I fought to keep them open so I wouldn’t miss a single moment.

Her fingers were almost to my cheek—so close! My breathing shuddered in my chest, and my scales ached as if they were eager to shine for her, to show off the mating marks. My lungs filled with her scent, all delicious and warm, like home. Then she faltered, her hand pausing in the air next to my head. If I shifted to the side, we’d touch. The world was still a wild, swaying ride of continuous and confusing motion. If I moved, maybe it was just because I slipped from dizziness… A lie. I wanted her touch so badly it ached.

“I will not,” Min-Ji said. Her eyes glittered, her brow lowered in the cutest frown. Everything about her was cute, but that was the mating bond. She was such a contrast to Naga females, who were all hard scales and harder moods. Then her words penetrated, and I fought against the instinct to lunge forward and grasp her, to make her see that I did want her, that I needed her more than I needed air to breathe.

“Not when you’re hurt and can’t make the choice. I want you to choose me, Corin,” she said. She didn’t understand, and I couldn’t explain. I would choose her any time, always. My beautiful, brave mate was the only one I wanted. I only stayed away from her to keep her safe, and that made this the right choice, even if I hated it.

She pulled a bit of fabric from her satchel and used it to carefully dab away the blood drying on my neck and ears. I wanted her to slip up, still caught in the selfish desire to have her, regardless of the consequences. She never did; her fingers were sure and steady as she cleaned the blood from my scales.

The world had righted itself around me by the time she was done, but the headache remained. The sonic weapon the Slithrazer-like Revenant had used packed a serious punch. My eyes strayed from Min-Ji to the metal body, and I wondered if I could locate the device that created the noise and take it with me. If I could study it, maybe I could find a way to guard against it.

“You didn’t get hurt by the noise?” I asked my mate as I rose unsteadily on my coils and moved closer to the beast’s head. I heard a soft swishing sound and glanced over my shoulder in time to see that Min-Ji was shaking her head, her silky black hair swaying. I focused on the unmoving Revenant, then glanced at the cleaning bot, Triff. “Triff is good,” I agreed. It did spin mightily for such a tiny robot.

The bot beeped in response, its spherical body sitting next to the Revenant but with a healthy bit of distance. If a robot with no face could have an expression, I’d say it was looking at the Revenant with suspicion, but it beeped happily when I said its name. Her name? His? I wasn’t sure what to think anymore.

I focused on what I did know, and that was the voice box of the Revenant. I needed it for study, to protect our Clan—my people. We’d lost the trail of the repair machines. They’d skittered off into the darkness while the Slithrazer Revenant distracted us. That had been Vrash’s plan all along.

“Don’t you have your healing device with you? Shouldn’t you use that?” Min-Ji exclaimed in consternation as I started pulling apart the metal beast's throat with my claws. I ignored her and switched to freeing my knives so I could use them on the more delicate parts. She was hovering nearby, standing perilously close to my tail, but I trusted her now, and I had myself back under control.

Without looking up from what I was doing, I said, “No, it doesn’t work on me. I can only heal others.” Her silence was telling, it was a little angry. Even though I kept my eyes on my hands, I could tell that she was glaring at the back of my head.

“You’re saying that there’s nobody around to take care ofyouwhen you are hurt? That’s bad, Corin. You’re super important to Haven. What if you get injured or sick? We’d have to wait for Artek to get to us or take you to him!” That was no different from how it was for any other Clan around here. They didn’t have a personal Shaman on hand. Sure, some clansmen, like me, knew just enough to handle a healing device for certain things, but only the Shaman could work the healing machines.

Haven was incredibly lucky to have a med bay so well-equipped that it rivaled the home of a Shaman. So I didn’t see why this was a big deal to my mate. I dealt with it, and I was already recovering from this injury too. Once I had the voice box, we needed to retreat and get some sleep. We’d start fresh in the morning and hit the last three locations. Whatever it would take to find the warriors.

“Fine, ignore me,” Min-Ji sighed. “See if I care,” she added with a huff, but I knew she didn’t mean that. When I glanced over my shoulder at her, she was staring into the dark tunnel the small robots had disappeared down, her arms crossed over her chest, her chin lowered as she stared, and her shoulders raised. I knew what she was thinking; the bots reminded her of the bugs and other crawling things she feared.

“I’m all right now, I promise,” I told her. The headache was pounding away at my temples, and it thrummed through my bloody ears, but a Naga healed fast. We healed faster than humans did; I’d learned that the hard way. With a little sleep, I’d be back in fighting shape, that was a fact. “Got it,” I said, and with a final yank, freed the device I was certain was responsible for the crippling noise.

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