Page 23 of Master
“So, what did you like watching best?" Clara scooped a generous helping of stew, blowing on it briefly before tasting. "Yum, this is good!"
“War videos.” I didn’t blow on my spoonful of stew, which lay hot and delicious on my tongue.
"Why did you like war videos?" Clara asked after we’d eaten in silence for a few minutes.
"Humans, for all their primitiveness, are brave and loyal."
“We can be,” Clara said thoughtfully as she scraped stew from the side of her bowl.
“You are loyal to your friends.” I reminded her.
“The book club." Clara's smile was soft. "We’ve been through a lot together. We’re more like sisters than friends.”
I met her violet gaze and held it. "My fellow Vaktaire will not fail in their rescue of your friends. I give you my word.”
"I believe you. Thanks." This time, the smile crinkled the corners of her eyes, making the violet color dark and stormy.
I leaned closer without conscious thought... without conscious anything. What drew me toward her felt magnetic and powerful—like nothing I’d ever experienced. My gaze melted with hers, and for the breath of a moment, we were there again, in that darkened room on the Hartouk Lenaii, linked as one in perfect bliss.
Clara blinked slowly, as if coming out of a trance, fumbling awkwardly with her cup and bowl.
“So, you said earlier that you were a weapons master?What does that mean, exactly?"
I bit back the amusement at her obvious deflection. I could wait. For her, I could wait for eons.
“I design and repair weapons.”
“Like guns and swords?” Her naivete ... like everything else about her... was adorable.
“Guns, swords, rockets, laser cannons, ship weapons systems....”
“Is that how you knew how to disable the Kerzak ship?”
“Yes. Part of my job is knowing the weaponry of other species and how to defend against it." I topped off our glasses, emptying the bottle. It, as well as our empty bowls, went into the disposal for recycling.
“On Earth, we have people doing the same job. Engineers mostly." Clara settled deeper into her chair, balancing the cup of wine between her fingers.
“Yes. I trained as an engineer.”
“You did?” She looked shocked, which made me smile.
"I did. My father was a renowned engineer who built cities for the Alliance. I followed in his footsteps from an early age.”
“Designing weapons is a long way from designing cities,” Clara probed over the rim of her glass, violet eyes narrowing curiously.
“I enjoyed building things.” I shrugged and winked. "But I enjoy blowing things up even better."
“Typical man.” Clara’s faint snort was musical.
“You mean all human men are like me?” I teased, watching the flush on her cheeks deepen.
"No," she admitted. "Not at all." The grin tweaking the corners of her mouth made my heart thud erratically.
“That almost sounds like a compliment.”
"Don't get excited," Clara scolded with a giggle that morphed into an enormous yawn. "Sorry!"
"I’m not surprised you’re tired," I told her. Rising from the chair, I reached across the width of the skiff, snagging the long nylon pull that dropped from the edge of the ceiling. With a yank, the small bunk bed hidden behind a wall panel slid into view. "I'm sorry the ship isn't large enough for private rooms, but the bunk is very comfortable.”
