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"What does lula mean?"
He dodges my question with one of his own, "You're human?"
I nod as the conversation turns surreal. I'm talking to an alien. A freaking alien! On another planet or, to be exact, an alien moon where the sun never sets.
"Tell me something." He juts his chin up. "How did a primitive species incapable of space travel manage to fly a Starskip-class vessel to Zune?"
I cringe, a little offended by his question. "We weren't given much choice. Luckily, Stacy knew how to fly the ship belonging to her old master and she saved us from that terrible yellow alien who bought us on the red planet."
I don't know where my bravado is coming from. Normally, I'm super shy and non-confrontational, especially around strangers. And this guy definitely qualifies, but something about him puts me oddly at ease.
Maybe it's my head wound, or the alien squirrel that's suddenly back, perched on his enormous shoulder and nibbling on a bright, green fruit of some kind.
It's weird that I'm not terrified of him. Maybe because he's not given me any reason to be afraid. If he was going to hurt me or kill me, he would have done so already, not made me homemade soup.
"Tirius," he supplies. "The red planet where you were sold. Most of the illicit trading in the Universe occurs there. Smart of your friend to learn how to fly a vessel while held captive."
"Speaking of my friends." I pick at the blanket covering me. "Where is everyone?"
"My guess is the underground lab." He sniffs distastefully with a crinkle of his nose. "Everyone ran for cover as the collar ticked down its explosion. I saw you fall, so I ran over to help."
"Where am I?"
"My hideout." He taps on the little control panel of the cuff encasing my forearm, collects the bowl, and stands. "You're safe here, high up in the trees. I've covered the pods in husti oil so none can track our scents. We're high enough up, nothing on the ground can reach us, and even if something tries, this area is surrounded with traps."
"Do my friends know where I am?" I worry as a fresh wave of grogginess washes over me.
"Rest, lula," he says in a gentle tone. "The medical cuff will heal you faster if you're asleep."
"No," I fight the lethargy. "The girls will worry about me. I need to let them know I'm all right."
"First you need to heal, lula."
"Lula? My name is Zoe."
"Zoe." His smile is reverent, but he doesn't offer his name in return.
"Who are you?" My eyelids droop, demanding sleep. "What's your name?"
He opens his mouth, then hesitates. "Mordox. My name is Mordox. And this is Tris." He scratches the squirrel under the chin.
"Mordox," I exhale, completely exhausted. "And Tris."
Panic slaps me like a hot whip across the face, yet I'm too tired to respond.Mordox.I've heard that name before. Stacy told me he was a dangerous convict just before we left the ship to make a run for the lab.
According to Stacy's boyfriend, Drax, Rooke was supposed to be dangerous too, but all he'd ever done was bring us food and water. He'd never tried to hurt us, only outrageously flirted with Darcy.
My eyes sweep across Mordox standing over me. Scars from where he helped fight Gruxt mar his chest. Blotches of dark blue are scattered across his arms and torso, probably bruises from the fight.
"Why?" I ask. "Why did you help fight the monster?"
"To save you," Mordox smiles. "Rest now, Zoe. You're safe here. Worry not, I will keep watch over you while you rest and heal."
My vision blurs as I fight to keep my eyes open. I didn't know what to believe anymore. Drax warned us both males couldn't be trusted, that they were dangerous. But Rooke had done nothing harmful and neither had Mordox.
Nothing made any sense. All I know for certain is I need to find the girls. I need to get back to Darcy. Let her know that I'm okay because I know she'll worry.
Darkness creeps in around my periphery as I lose my fight with sleep. No matter how hard I try, my eyelids drop closed.
