Kozav (6 page)

T
he Knowing made her stupid
. No, Kozav made her stupid. Actually, him being all sweet and promising to take care of her mom made her stupid. Just… all of the above. Everything from waking up until this very moment was a great big ball of “make Grace stupid.”

And it’d worked. Because now she was in his—their?—suite while her mother was in medical and Kozav was doing whatever Primary Warriors did. When the healers and additional guards, as well as Sobol joi Zurer, had appeared in her apartment, Grace sensed an underlying tension that thrummed through them all. And it hadn’t dissipated when they’d arrived back on the battleship.

Kozav had escorted her to their suite and promised he’d only be gone a short time. She was to rest and then he would return and escort her to medical to check on her mom. He didn’t want her wandering around alone and getting into trouble. Her words, not his. He just emphasized the resting.

Well, she’d rested—for five minutes—and then she’d paced for thirty more. Now Grace was ready to rock and roll right down the hall to find out how her mother was doing and whether the Preors could do anything for her. For the umpteenth time, she thanked God for the Preors. Even if they didn’t have a cure, her mom would at least be clean, fed, and comfortable until the end. The end when the Pol Mutation won.

At the thought of the end, her eyes burned, tears gathering. Dammit, she wasn’t normally a crier, but Kozav… having him turned her into one, apparently.

Grace blinked the moisture away and shook her head. She wasn’t going to go down that sentimental road. Not right then. Maybe later when she wasn’t so worried about everything in her world blowing up. For now, she’d gather her brass ovaries and find her mother. Her mate could—

It was weird to think of Kozav that way.
Her mate
. The Knowing manifested between them and he was
her mate
.

The one thing she’d been searching for all this time (for all the wrong reasons) and now she had one. He hadn’t been found in the Intergalactic Mating Agency offices, but on an exam table. She still hadn’t quite come to terms with the concept of a winged alien mate, but she needed to. Soon. Before he expected her to share his bed. Not that it’d be a problem for her. Already she craved him, her body attuned to his, and her mouth watered when she wondered what he’d taste like.

No. Bad horny Grace.
She needed to find her mother.

The only way to do that was ask for directions. “Ship, directions to medical, please.”

“Medical is located on deck
ravou
section
ouakh
.”

That didn’t tell her a damn thing. “Let’s try this again,” she grumbled. “Ship, please provide turn-by-turn directions that will get me from this room to medical.”

“Primary Warrior Kozav joi Grace Hall recommended remaining within the suite.”

She glared at the room since she wasn’t sure how the ship monitored the area. “Recommending is not the same as ordering. Comply.”

She wouldn’t ask again. If the ship didn’t listen to her, she’d… Do something really bad. She wasn’t sure what since she wasn’t familiar with Preor vessels, but—

But the Knowing surged, feeding her data at a rate that made her dizzy and she stumbled toward a nearby chair. She gripped the back, aching to remain on her feet, and waited for it to end. There was a bonus about asking that mental question, though. She didn’t need the ship to provide directions any longer. Apparently the design hadn’t changed in nearly a century and it was well documented in the blood memory.

“Disregard my request.” Grace padded toward the door, the last of the knowledge settling into her mind. “I’ll handle it myself.”

She paused at the exit to the room and placed her thumb on the identipad, waiting to see if the ship would let her go or try and keep her captive. It didn’t sound too happy about her finding medical.

The red light turned green and the doors parted, revealing the hallway beyond. A tremor overtook her, one completely unrelated to exhaustion or worry. Nope. It was more a hint of foreboding with a dash of “this is how women from old horror vids died.” That chill down her spine and the sudden swamping of unease practically screamed that she should go back into the room and crawl under the covers. But that was the easy path, and she hadn’t done easy in years and years. She was used to doing the hard things, to standing up for what she believed and working for what she wanted. At the moment, she wanted her mommy.

So, death by stupidity or not, she eased from the room, twitching when the metal doors slid shut behind her. She recalled the path outlined by the Knowing, the distant knowledge having her turn right and then left, avoiding the hall that led to the meal area and then doubling back so she also avoided the training rooms. The Knowing was really great at the subterfuge stuff. She was already halfway to medical, even moving as slowly as she was. The Knowing sickness was long gone since she’d been reunited with Kozav, but that didn’t immediately wipe away the fatigue left behind by her riotous emotions throughout the day.

She was a mere three turns from medical now, two lefts and then a right, which would let her dip around engineering and come out in another mostly deserted area of the ship.

Quick.

Easy.

Until she got close to that next-to-last corner. She’d gotten too cocky—too pleased with herself. Grace hadn’t seen a soul and assumed she was home free since she was so close to medical, but… Yeah, she wasn’t.

That was when shit got real. Live, in living color, and all over orange.

She rounded the bend and slammed into a solid wall of flesh, bouncing back. She grasped the biceps of the person—
Preor
—she’d hit and stumbled, nearly losing her footing. Shock was followed by panic and worry danced on her nerves. Had the ship contacted Kozav and tattled on her? Had he intercepted her?

No. Because Kozav was teal and this guy with his amber hair and orange wings reminded her of… Screw reminding her of anyone. It
was
him. “You.”

“You,” he snarled in return, exposing long, glistening fangs.

Grace jerked her hands off him and shuffled backward. His rage whipped at her, chasing her, striking her with its intensity. The smart thing would be to back off, apologize, and pray she got out of the situation unhurt.
Grovel, Grace, grovel.

“Sorry about that.” She forced herself to smile though she was sure it was more like a grimace.

“Do you know what you have done to me?” He towered over her, taking a step forward each time she stepped back. “Do you know what I have had to endure?”

She licked her lips and swallowed past the hard knot in her throat. “I—”

He came nearer once more, a light in the dim hallway shining down on his face. “
Do you?
”

No, but she had some idea. His face was a mass of purples and greens, the colors clashing with the orange of his wings and eyes. She saw the small pin-pricks from Kozav’s attack, but none of this had been present when they’d left the ship. All of the damage to the male had to have occurred after they’d gone to Earth.

“I didn’t—”

She didn’t do a damned thing. Good or bad. He’d been the one to come after her. She’d lied to Kozav about this male’s behavior, but she’d been too intent on getting to her mom. She should have told him the truth, but—

“Do you know what has happened to my uncle? Because of you? Because of some breeder?”

Breeder.

A derogatory term applied to—

Grace put a lid on the Knowing. She didn’t need an explanation for that one. The definition was pretty clear. He saw her as nothing more than a vessel. Someone to carry Preor babies to term and then that was that.

She was a thing to him, not a person.

Just a breeder.

He stalked her, herding her as if she was cattle, farther down the passageway.

“Sugal was a Healing Master. The only Healing Master in the third fleet. And he’s been jailed because of you and your breeder
dam
.” He hissed. “You both should have been left on Earth. The Preors don’t need you.
Any
of you.”

Grace was going to stay calm. She wasn’t going to react to his ranting. She just needed to bide her time and then when someone else came along, she’d run. Simple. Easy.

Except he kept talking and it didn’t take him long to say the words that broke the camel’s back. Or released Grace’s hatefire.

“You’re
nothing
. You’re
no one.
You’re
ikpor
.”

Worthless. Garbage.

Growing up with hardly a penny to her name meant Grace’s life was different than everyone else’s. It meant she had solid ideals and a hovocar load of pride when it came to who she was and what she’d accomplished in life. She’d fought and scrambled for everything she had. Was she God’s gift to the world? No. But she wasn’t
nothing
. She wasn’t
no one
. And she’d worked damned hard to be worth something.

“I’m no one?” She stopped retreating and stood her ground. “
I’m
no one?” She pointed to herself. “Look, I tried to save your sorry ass. You and I both know you grabbed me and threw me down. We both know that if Kozav hadn’t shown up, I’d be sporting bruises or a broken bone.”

“The Preors do not need breeders—”

She sneered at him. “Listen, Tang—”

“My
name
is Third Warrior Impe sen Viz’on.”

Right. Earth jokes wouldn’t work on a Preor even if his wings were the color of orange Tang. Her blood pumped quickly through her veins, anger fueling her every word and movement.

“Fine. Third Warrior Impe Pussy-Boy sen Viz’on.” His face darkened to a deep red and she wondered if he was familiar with Earth insults. “I may be a breeder, but you’re nothing but an overgrown hatchling trying to play at being a warrior.” She looked him up and down, making sure her disgusted sneer encompassed him. “You’re a child, you speciesist misogynistic butterfly.”

“Breeder bitch.”

Grace was prepared for the breeder insult.

She wasn’t prepared for the backhand that came with the
bitch
.

Or the blackout that immediately followed.

T
he blackout didn’t
last long. The ear-ringing dizziness stuck around, though. That and the throbbing from her cheek. Or rather, the entire right side of her face since
Impe sen Viz’on’s
hand was as big as a house. And, of course, when she thought of his name it was with the male’s whiny, thin voice.

My name is…
Whiny, whiny asshole.

Grace slowly opened her eyes, anxious to discover where she’d ended up. The ceiling was the same as Kozav’s rooms, but the surface beneath her was different—soft, yet hard. That didn’t tell her anything. The scents in the room did, though. A hospital was a hospital whether on Earth or in an alien spaceship. There was no getting away from the aromas of sickness and cleanser. The cleaning staff could be the best ever created, but illness always clung to everything.

She slowly turned her head, searching out anyone else who might be in the area, and she realized she wasn’t in a private room but an open space. An open space she shared with her mother. Well, she got to her destination. Painfully, but she got there.

Her mom’s color was better, some of the paleness gone and replaced with a low flush of health. No, not true health, but at least it wasn’t death. The memories of the past haunted her, the frailness of her mother’s body, the thinness of her arms when Grace clutched them and helped her into the bathroom. The room hadn’t been as bad as she’d imagined, but it’d been close. When she’d gotten her mom into the shower, settling her on the small shower chair, she’d done nothing but apologize.

For her failures. For her neglect. For… everything.

And so like a mom, she’d been told there was nothing to forgive. Which had only made her cry harder.

Then Kozav, with his forceful nature and dominating presence, was beyond gentle and caring with Donna Hall—Dam Hall in his words. Respect and awe had been in his every word and touch. After that, he’d done as promised. Healers flowed in and out of the small apartment, carrying off her mom for treatment while Kozav promised she’d get the best Preor had to offer. He would demand the Royal Healing Master if necessary.

I will not lose another dam.

The message resonated through her, heartache and grief in those few words, but it hadn’t been the time to question him. Not while surrounded by his warriors.

Now, lying on one of the platforms in medical and staring at her mother’s relaxed face, Grace knew he’d fulfilled each vow.

The rustle of wings, already familiar to her in the short time she’d been surrounded by Preor, drew her attention to a nearby healer. His grey eyes were kind, gentler than the other warriors she’d met so far, and he gave her a soft smile. Maybe it was the overall grey of his appearance that eased some of her tension or merely his expression, but he reminded her of a kind, old doctor. Not one of the pretty boys who didn’t know their ass from their elbows, but one of those she’d seen in older vids. When doctors cared more for patients than credits.

“Hi,” she whispered, unwilling to disturb her mom. The woman needed her rest, needed it to get healthy. Well, as healthy as possible.

“Hello, Grace joi Kozav. I am Primary Healer Whelon.”

She gave the male a careful quirk of her lips in return, waiting for the pain to flare, and she was surprised when it remained a dull throb. “What’s the damage, Doc?”

“Bruising, no more.” He raised his eyebrows. “You were very lucky, Grace joi Kozav. A Preor warrior’s strength is much greater than even Earth’s most fierce military officers.”

Yeah, she knew that. Now. She’d been decked by a patient or two in the ER. Sometimes shit just happened. “Yeah, that’s all it feels like.” She laid her hands on the bed near her chest, and levered herself up before swinging her legs over the side. She so wasn’t commenting on a Preor’s badass-ness. “And how’s my mom?”

“Better, though no cure has yet been found.” He shook his head. “But I would not be worrying over another when you should worry over yourself.”

“You just said I was fine.” Achy, but fine.

He tilted his head in acknowledgment, that small smile still in place, and she had a feeling he was laughing at her behind that kind face. “Now. However Primary Warrior Kozav has been notified—”

“That my mate cannot even follow the simplest of my orders.” She’d been so intent on the healer that she hadn’t heard medical’s doors open. But they were open now and Kozav stomped through them, not slowing until he reached her side. His features were settled into a furious frown, anger burning in his teal eyes. “You were told to wait for me. That I would escort you to your
dam
once my task was complete.”

“And I didn’t.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Which caused you to come to harm. This is unacceptable. You will follow the orders given to you. I cannot have you disregarding my instructions. I do not have time to worry over you every moment of the day. I have warriors to lead.”

Grace jerked back. “I will follow…” she sputtered. “Instructions…” Okay, one part of her wanted to give him some allowances. She’d probably scared him and she admitted leaving the rooms without an escort was kind of a dick move. Alright, it
was
a dick move. But the whole ordering, instruction, demanding thing wasn’t going to fly. “I made a mistake, yes.” See? She could be accommodating. “But if you think I’m going to just roll over and let you walk all over me, you’ve—”

“You are my mate!” His voice bounced off the metal walls and she glared at him.

“Lower your voice. If you wake up my mother, I will… do something really bad.” Lame, but she’d consult the Knowing later for an appropriate threat.

“Perhaps it is best if she is awake and hears of your behavior. If she knows her young is no more than a mindless
katoth
who wanders off—”

Grace bristled. She wasn’t a mindless cow. “Did you just call me—”

“—and puts herself in danger.” His glare still remained, his face bright red with his anger. “I will have to order one of my warriors to act as a minder for you if you cannot stay where you are put.”

“Are you saying I need a babysitter? That I can’t safely walk among the
mighty
Preor warriors who are supposed to value women and dragonlets above all else? Great guys you got here.” She hoped he didn’t miss the sarcasm.

Kozav’s shoulders expanded, teal scales rippling over his tanned skin, and she realized she might have pushed a hint too far. He took a deep breath and released it slowly, repeating the action before speaking once more. At least his face wasn’t as red as a tomato anymore. “And your humans are any better? Men who vowed to care for others and were prepared to let my warriors die?”

“I never said they were better. Hell, Richards is an ass and shouldn’t even be called a doctor, but I don’t go around telling everyone that he’s God’s gift to the medical profession. Even the Knowing is a cocky ass when it comes to how
cherished
females are.” Grace pointed at her cheek, heat from the large bruise emanating from the area, and she twirled her finger. “This is a weird way of cherishing. Just saying.”

Kozav’s growl rumbled through the room once more, continuing on and on until she wondered if he’d go full dragon right in front of her. That… would not be a good thing. Not when she was pretty sure a full-grown Preor would more than fill the space, crushing everyone in the room.

Grace tucked away her anger, knowing she could deal with it later. “Kozav.” His growl lessened, but the furious expression remained in place. “I will admit that it would have been best if I’d waited for you. However, the Knowing provided me with directions to medical,” —while also helping her avoid as many Preor as possible since she knew she was sorta in the wrong— “So I wouldn’t have gotten lost. As for Impe, no one could have predicted he’d react the way he did.”

“Impe?” Barely banked violence filled the single word. “Impe sen Viz’on? The male who is supposed to be confined?”

At least his anger moved away from her.

A tone filled the room, quickly followed by the ship’s voice. “Primary Warrior Kozav, your attention is needed. Engineering Master Vende requires your assistance.”

Kozav closed his eyes and gritted his teeth, and Grace had the good sense to stay quiet. When he finally returned his attention to Grace, he responded to the ship while keeping his eyes on her. “Inform Vende I am en route.”

“Confirmed.”

“
Shaa kouva
,” the endearment came out as a snarl. “I am placing a warrior outside medical. When you are prepared to leave, he will escort you to our rooms and you will remain there until I resolve Vende’s problem. Am I understood?”

Grace managed to keep herself from launching into a massive tirade about women’s rights and instead, responded with a single word. “Yes.”

He didn’t say anything else after that, merely spun away and stomped back the way he’d come, not slowing when he reached the exit and the doors parted for him. She spied the aforementioned guard, a yellow warrior stationed to the left of the portal.

Goody.

“Grace Celina Hall.”

Grace winced. Not only was her mom awake, she was awake and busting out Grace’s full name. Not good. “Hi, Mom. How are you feeling?”

Maybe focusing on her mother’s condition instead of Grace’s would allow her to escape without a lecture.

Donna turned her head and her familiar, narrowed eyes met Grace’s. “Don’t ‘how are you feeling’ me.”

Nope, no such luck.

“Did you really—”

“Yes,” Grace sighed. “To all of the above.” Might as well come clean. “I was just so worried about you that—”

“You risked your life.”

“I didn’t think there was any danger,” she mumbled. Conveniently forgetting what happened the first time she’d ventured into the ship’s halls and originally encountered Impe.

“Uh-huh.” Her mom’s rough voice held more than a hint of disbelief.

“Did I mention I was worried?”

“Gracie…” Her mother’s gaze softened and she lifted her hand from the bed, gesturing for Grace to come forward. “Let me tell you a little about these men.”

Grace couldn’t help it; she groaned. “You just met them. How can you know anything more than me?”

The look on her mom’s face told Grace not to question her. Dammit, her mother always knew everything there was to know about everything. It was like magic. Her mom said it was just being old. She carefully slid from the platform, clutching the edge until she was sure she wasn’t gonna crumble to the ground. Once sure, she shuffled to her mom, giving the healer a soft smile when he placed a chair near her mom. Grace lowered herself and grasped her mother’s hand, surprised at her strength. Mere hours and already Donna was doing better.

“With or without wings, men are men, sweetheart. Now, you listen to me, Gracie Celina…”

This was going to be a very long lecture.