Page 72 of Zalis
Gemma spun on her heel. She heard a noise. She did.
Nothing.
“I’m fine. I’m fine. There’s no such thing as Chainsaw Hands,” she chanted until her feet started moving again.
Everything’s fine.
The comings and goings on the moon were controlled. The Mahdfel knew exactly who was on Val Mori. She was safe. There was no monster wanting to snatch her. There was no one following her.
The itching sensation on the back of her neck said otherwise.
Coming to the edge of the light, she hesitated. Another step and she’d be in the darkness.
Everything’s fine.She knew it but she didn’t believe it. Every instinct—the ones she ignored before being abducted—screamed for her to run back to Emry’s, back to safety.
She looked over her shoulder. No one. No suspicious shadows. No ominous fog swirling around her feet, stealing visibility. It was a clear, warm night. Insects were doing their thing. The foreign stars overhead twinkled. Everything was fine. She still hurriedly walked until she reached the next puddle of light.
Finally, their building was in sight. Dashing as fast as she dared on her dodgy ankle, she reached the entrance.
Even as she pressed the palm of her hand to the building’s security pad, the sensation of being watched never left.
ZALIS
Zalis determined that Ren was incompatible with silence.
“That is an interesting choice.”
“Why that tool?”
“The wiring is very orderly.”
“I greatly enjoyed the sourdough bread your mate baked, though it was not as sour as I anticipated.”
That was enough. Working with Ren was only tolerable because the male was competent. However, his chatter had been nonstop for days with endless questions, commentary, and opinions that Zalis had not asked for. He could not listen to another word from this male.
“You should not speak of my mate,” Zalis warned.
“Why? We are brothers now,” Ren said.
With one hand gripping the edge of an open panel, Zalis rolled his shoulders to stretch sore muscles. The height restriction on the maintenance tunnel required that he dip his head when standing to avoid hitting the ceiling. Built for civilian height requirements, the cramped tunnels were not comfortable for a Mahdfel, certainly not one with horns.
He was tired. He had hit his horns more times than he cared to count in these cursed maintenance tunnels. He had not spent enough time with his mate. Other people spoke more to her than he had in days. The taste of her had faded from his tongue and it infuriated him that there had been no opportunity for more. Now this male—this liar—claimed some familial connection.
“You are not my brother,” Zalis said, stressing each word. “You are not my friend. We are colleagues and that is the extent of our relationship. The sooner you stop prattling, the sooner we will be done with the task, and I no longer must listen to your voice.”
His bitter words hung between them.
“I have been bullied by more intimidating males than you,” Ren said, breaking the silence. His normally jovial expression vanished and his barbed tail rose over his shoulder, as if threatening to strike.
“I am not a bully.”
“It is odd.” Ren folded his arms over his chest and gave Zalis a skeptical look. “I have always assumed you were reserved. Havik and Lorran say you are pleasant. Thalia enjoys your company. Gemmarae insists that you are sweet. Even Emmarae admires you. It seems everyone has a positive opinion of the male standing before me and yet I find him to be nothing more than a tiresome bully.”
“I am not a bully,” Zalis repeated.
“I heard your conversation with the constable at the hospital.”
Fair. He had bullied that constable.
