Page 72 of Warrior's Captive
“I know what you’re suggesting,” Eb said. “But we don’t know how a human attempting to split the marks would affect her. And she’s pregnant.”
“I have to try,” Vivian said. Throat dry, heart racing, she stepped forward. “Please help me. If he dies—he’s all I have here. Allwehave.” And she couldn’t,couldn’timagine the coming months and years without him. “He saved me. Let me save him. Please.”
The man sighed. “We’ll have to find akheterruthless enough to open the tube and let a pregnant human bondmate attempt to split the marks.”
“Then let’s find one,” Banujani said. “That should be easy enough around here.”
25
“I remember you,”thekhetersaid, eyeing Vivian. “Interesting.”
She wasn’t anything like the first woman who had treated Vivian; medium height, round, her expression skeptical rather than cold and her hair in a messy bun on top of her head as if she didn’t have time to be bothered with it. She glanced at Banujani.
“BdakhunIbukay would have my head, then my career, and I just qualified for a panel at the regional conference. No. You’re not supposed to be back here anyway.”
Banujani sized the woman up. “BdakhunIbukay has a gala scheduled next quarter.”
“I know.” The woman sat back in her chair, unfazed. “Her trafficking platform. Fundraising.”
“If you do this, you’ll be the onlykheterto have supervised a gravid human bondmate splitting her marks to aid a trauma patient. I’ll guarantee you a forty-minute presentation at the gala. In front of all those rich donors.”
Thekheterpursed her lips. “Yes, but if it goes sideways—”
“But if it doesn’t?”
“Look, does she even know what she’s doing?”
“Do any of us? The marks don’t come with instruction manuals. Weallwing it.”
“True.” The woman chewed at her lip, then stood. “Alright. But if it goes sideways, I’m telling the Board that I was under duress.”
Eb pulled out a slim weapon and pointed. “Take us to Tai’ri or we kill you.”
Thekheterclapped her hands. “Perfect.”
* * *
Tai’ri was assigned a simple white room, the stark walls inset with different displays. He rested inside a long tube with a transparent top and when she saw him, her stomach churned. Her mind stuttered, because even with the hours he’d spent in the healing device already he looked . . . like meat. She barely recognized him. Vivian froze, staring.
“Once I disconnect this,” thekheterhad said, “you’ll have minutes. His nanos haven’t even started regenerating. If you can jumpstart them, once he goes back in they’ll take over.” She paused, fixed Vivian with a steely look. “Just jumpstart him, don’t try to go any deeper.”
Whatever that meant, but she wasn’t going to argue.
Vivian stepped to his side, waited until the lid of the tube decompressed, rising slowly.
“Physical contact will be needed,” thekhetersaid. “Don’t worry about introducing infection.”
Vivian reached in and took his hand carefully, closing her eyes to the sight of him because if she continued to look, she might lose faith. “I don’t know what to do.”
“I’ve seen your marks react to him,” Banujani said. “When that happened, what was going on?”
The tattoos responded when he was close, when his low voice and subtle, sly caresses filled her senses and tried to push away her doubts, her past. So she called forth her memories of him, of his smile, the taste of his lips, his growls when he was making her come. Warmth bloomed in her body, and the memories came faster and faster. She didn’t resist the emotion they dredged up, not this time. She opened herself fully, and the marks awakened, jarred into life as if by command.
How did one tell nanos to get to work?
“Whatever you’re doing,” thekhetersaid, “keep doing it, and do it faster.”
The nanos responded to stimuli, obviously. Thoughts, emotions, memory, touch. Probably scent, too, some kind of pheromone. If visualization sparked them to wakefulness, perhaps visualization could be used to command them.
