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With two little flicks, their helmets came off, again almost in unison. I wondered if they practiced this in the corps.
“You’re bleeding.” It was a statement by the smallest figure of the group, the one with a row of small knives tethered around her waist like a belt. They were about three inches long with a rubber-like handle. The black metal glinted even in the low light.
Funny how I noticed the knives first instead of her face, like most would have. She had very striking features—hair so pale it was almost silver and eyes such a piercing green that it was uncomfortable to look into directly. She was also a Fanger; the scent was unmistakable.
“It’s healing,” I replied, stretching my neck a little to test the seal.
“What’s the brief, Commander?” This question was from the tallest person in the group, a Beast with sandy-blond hair. He looked like he hadn’t groomed himself in years. A full beard grew around his face like an unkempt nest and his horns were unpolished.
Ana spoke, severing my train of thought.
“We have an unlawful kidnapping. Twenty-two-year-old woman. Twyla Oboid. Primary residence: Royal One.”
“No.” My voice was sharper than I’d wanted it to be. “Her home is here, with me.”
“What’s your connection to the victim?” asked the being that stood in the middle. Their features were nondescript, with dark shoulder-length hair and narrowed eyes. Their voice took on an ambiguous, neutral tone.
“She’s my Blood Mate.”
The little Fanger gasped, her eyes going wide. “That can’t be true. Blood Mates are just myths.”
I shook my head. “No, it’s real. I’ve felt the bond.”
I watched her mouth open and close. She looked like a confused mythical fairy. “I have so many questions.”
“Later, Trin,” Ana said brusquely. “Magh and Berr, I need you to trace signals of any tank that passed through this Star. Track its direction.”
“On it.”
I hadn’t noticed before but all three of them had thick black bags strapped across their shoulders. They slung their bags forward, popping open some type of blinking blue communication devices I’d never seen before.
Almost in unison, they walked to the kitchen and spoke among themselves, leaning close as their individual devices fused into one large screen on Ana’s counter.
“Trin, I need you to check Cedra—”
“I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not,” Ana and Trin said in unison.
“I’m a healer,” Trin clarified. She raised her palm and a gentle wave of warmth spread across my skin.
I moved, trying to avoid it.
“Damn it, Cee. You’re not a martyr. Why are you punishing yourself like this?” Ana’s brows were furrowed in anger and worry.
“I failed her. I should be punished.”
Trin’s features softened with a look of sympathy, but Ana wasn’t buying it.
Folding her arms, Ana eyed me. “You’re useless to me if you pass out again. If you want to come with us to get Twyla back, let Trin have a look at you and take a couple more iron replacers. Otherwise, you’re not coming.”
She didn’t leave me time for a rebuttal. Instead, she walked into her room and shut the door behind her.
I felt another warm breeze against my front, Trin’s whisper fingers slowly moving towards the back of my neck, where the pain was pulsing.
Her voice was as soothing as her healing. “She wouldn’t want you to be in pain, your Mate. Just close your eyes and listen to my voice. We will get her back, wherever they’ve taken her. Believe in your bond.”
And for some reason, I believed her.
