Page 10 of Zalis
Finished drinking, Sarah wiped the back of her hand across her mouth. “I’ll go check on Tia. She doesn’t look good.”
Gemma agreed. Tia had a cough that had gotten progressively worse and a fever. Unable to do anything to help, Sarah and Gemma talked. They asked questions, dragging answers out of the sick woman to keep her present.
Tia stopped responding yesterday.
Medics arrived just as Hellboy and Elmo disarmed the last bomb. Dressed in white, they wore faceless helmets that made them seem more like robots than living, breathing people.
A heavy bag thumped down on the ground next to her. Gemma flinched, involuntarily scooting away from the stranger. “No, no, no. Don’t start with me. Others are in worse shape. I’ll be fine.”
Did her voice wobble? A little. She was tired and her ankle throbbed. She was running on nothing but adrenaline and stubbornness. Her stubborn streak might go on forever, but her body would crash soon.
The guy with the nice laugh joined the medic, crouching down beside her. He spoke in a low voice, as if to keep their conversation as private as possible. “My name is Zalis.”
Okay, a weird time to make friends, but sure. She said, “Gemma.”
“I understand you are refusing medical treatment.”
She didn’t have the strength to argue. Instead, she said, “Help the others first. I can wait.”
“The females are watching you for guidance. They are afraid,” Zalis said.
Gemma twisted in place, taking in the room. Tinsley, Paloma, and Blake were freed from the cages and cowered together in a bunch. Despite Tinsley’s glassy eyes and severe dehydration, she pushed away a medic. She didn’t look strong enough to put up a fight, but that was what she promised. Tia lay on the ground, pale and shivering from a fever. Sarah shoved at the medic, shouting that no one would touch her friend.
“Show them that they are safe to accept assistance,” Zalis urged.
Well, fuck. How could she argue with that?
“Fine. Let’s get this over with.” A thought struck her. “No one else has a translator chip. Tell the others to speak an Earth language. I think nearly everyone speaks English.”
“I will see it done. Now let the medics work,” Zalis said, rising to his feet.
She couldn’t help it—her eyes followed his movement. He was big, really big, and graceful.
And he had a nice laugh.
The medic did their thing, putting an inflatable boot on her ankle and instructing her to keep it immobile until they reached the hospital. Briefly, worries about the medical bill flared to life, but she stomped those out. Metaphorically. No one was stomping anything.
Before long, Elmo was carrying her out of the warehouse, and it was humiliating.
“No, set me down. I’m fine,” Gemma protested, even if that was a complete lie. “I want to see Emry.”
“Your ankle is fractured. You are unable to stand,” Elmo said. “You are clearly injured. Your stubbornness only hurts yourself.”
“You said Emry sent you, so where is she?” She believed him, but she wouldn’t have been surprised by a last -minute betrayal. Still, disarming the bombs and calling in the medics was a lot of work for betrayal. Turning around and pretending like you never saw the warehouse full of women in cages was a lot more efficient as far as betrayal schemes went.
Gemma took a closer look at his face. It was easy to be distracted by the scorpion tail, the red complexion, and the two orc-like tusks at his lower lip. Super easy. “You’re him, aren’t you?” she asked. “You’re the guy who broke her heart.”
He flinched at the question. “Yes, I was the foolish male.”
“What’s your name?” She knew his name; she just wanted confirmation.
“Ren.”
“I expected you to look more like a cartoon devil.”
“I swore that I would find you.”
“Good job. Here I am. Where’s my sister?”
