“You should know better than to try claiming a female who already has an owner,” the other told him.
“But this is how I make my living, Your Honors!” Brakus wailed pitifully. “And how can I claim unaccompanied females with my wrist broken?”
“If you make your living kidnapping and abusing females, then you deserve more than a broken wrist,” the big Kindred growled. “Maybe I’d better break your neck for you as well!”
He stepped forward, towards Brakus, and the Ma’shorkan’s purple eyes grew wide. Without another word, he turned and ran down the dark hallway, clutching his broken wrist to his chest and howling in pain as he went.
The big Kindred—Valen, he said his name was Valen, Selena reminded herself—seemed to shrink back down to his normal size. Which is still freaking huge, whispered the little voice in her head. He turned to the policemen and nodded at them cordially.
“I trust this matter is settled, officers. And now, I must tend to my valuable property and make certain that miscreant hasn’t damaged her in any way.”
“Oh, of course, Sir. Yes, of course.”
The two Ma’shorkan policemen couldn’t get away fast enough. They bowed and nodded respectfully as they backed away from the dark hallway and then turned and left as quickly as possible. Clearly, they were afraid of the big Kindred, and not just because he had threatened them with legal action.
Selena couldn’t say that she blamed them—he had put on a truly terrifying display. Though why he had bothered to come to her rescue, she really didn’t know, especially considering their awkward interactions on the shuttle.
“Why…why did you help me? How did you even know I was here?” she asked, as he bent and picked up her violin case.
“I heard your screams and smelled your blood,” he said shortly, handing her the case.
“My blood?” She started to take the case and then realized that the hand she was reaching for it with had crimson dripping from the fingertips. “Oh my God, my blood—I’m bleeding,” she whispered faintly. “That cut must have been deeper than I thought.”
The pressure Brakus had been putting on her wrist when he held her, must have stopped the flow. But now that the Ma’shorkan kidnapper was no longer grabbing her, she was bleeding freely—and starting to feel faint.
“Come with me,” the Kindred said, putting a hand on her back. “There’s a private VIP lounge near here where I can tend your wounds.”
“I…I…okay.” Selena nodded faintly, not knowing what else to do. At least she felt safe with the Kindred. Though he had been rude on the shuttle, she’d never heard of one of the big aliens hurting a woman. In fact, they were supposed to be very protective of women, at least from what Kat and Jess had told her. “I…I guess that would be okay,” she whispered, nodding once more.
“Good. Come,” Valen said shortly, and led her away.
10
The little Elite seemed to be in shock, Valen thought, as he ushered her into the private lounge. He would have to see to her wounds—it was the only right thing to do, though it was a damned nuisance being with a female who affected him so greatly while knowing he couldn’t have her. Well, he couldn’t have any female, he reminded himself. And there was no point in bemoaning the fact.
The VIP lounge was staffed by an indentured Ma’shorkan female wearing a conservative deep green dress, which had the front panel cut out to show her small, mottled, pink and purple breasts.
“Good evening, Sir,” she said formally. “May I please see your identification?” Then she noticed the blood dripping from the little Elite’s fingers and her eyes widened. “Oh dear! Are you in need of a medic?”
“I am a medic,” Valen growled, flashing his VIP membership chip briefly. Which was more or less true—at least in this situation. “All I require is a soft couch with a privacy shield so that I can tend to my female’s wounds. She was attacked by a slave-taker just a moment ago.”
“Ah, the slave-takers grow bolder every day, Sir! Please, come right this way.”
The Ma’shorkan woman led them to the back of the lounge—which was only sparsely populated, due to how extremely expensive membership was—and got him and the little Elite settled on a low, broad, gold brocade couch upholstered in the finest Greethian satin.
“I’ll put down the privacy shield now,” she told Valen, once they were settled. “Will you be needing anything else?”
“If I do, I’ll ring for it,” he said shortly. “Now please put down the shield—I must tend to my female.”
“Yes, Sir.” She nodded respectfully and pressed a button on the remote she carried. At once, a smoked plasti-glass dome descended from the ceiling and surrounded the couch like a bubble. It cut out the outside noise—not that there was much of it—and hid their business from prying eyes. They could see out, through the curving sides, but no one else would be able to see in.