“No,” I bark out. “From the looks of it, he’s malnourished and has been abused. I want to heal him, not use him. He’s had enough of that.”
Julie deflates but nods. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”
Kevin relaxes, terror no longer rippling from him in waves.
“Thank you.” Zoe places a palm on my back, rubbing gently. “You’re a good man, Avrell.”
Her approval in my decision to care for the Kevin named Kevin warms me.
“Let us get to it,” I boom. “Our mission is not complete.”
The cure.
I’m almost there.
And everyone, including the little one clinging to me, is relying on me.
I won’t let them down.
11
Zoe
“The-Kevin-Named-Kevin is leaking again,” Avrell says with a furtive glance up from his tablet at the direction of the isolation pods. “Should I go to him?”
“He’s not leaking. He’s crying. Poor thing. You stay here and finish your work. I’ll take care of him.” I leave Avrell to his cure but not before I press a kiss to his forehead. He’s freshly cleaned from another decontamination shower, but I don’t mind the blood. In fact, I quite like the new brutal side of him.
Bossy. Arrogant. Rude. Intelligent. Kind. Dedicated. Monstrous. Devious. Mine.
There are many ways to describe my mate, but mine is my favorite of all.
My mate.
There is no denying it now.
He’s as much mine as I am his.
I find Kevin in the isolation pod we’ve designated for his room. It’s easier to keep him in the Medical Bay where we can keep an eye on him and treat his injuries—various and numerous. Even us prisoners were treated better, not much, but better. And I thought we had it bad.
He curls into a tight little ball on the cot affixed to one of the pod walls when he sees me in the doorway. “What do you want?” he asks. Whatever appreciation he felt at our rescue is gone. He trembles underneath the thin blanket we provided.
Holding up my hands, I say, “I’m not here to hurt you. I came to check on you to see if you need anything. Food, more medicine, some company. Whatever.”
“I don’t want anything.” True to Avrell’s word, tears begin to leak from Kevin’s eyes. “I just want to be left alone.”
“Do you have a family on Earth II?” I ask gently.
His lip wobbles. He says he’s thirteen, but the anguish on his face makes him look much younger. It’s a stark contrast to the lingering despair in his gaze. “No,” he spits out. “Do you?”
“My family is here.”
“You mean those monsters?” He shivers and I swear I can hear his teeth chattering from where I’m standing. “He killed people. You all did.”
“You don’t have to be afraid of him—or us. We don’t want to hurt you.”
“Then what do you want from me?” His gaze hardens. “I won’t belong to anyone again. I refuse.”
“We don’t want anything from you, only for you to get better. Those men you were with, they were trying to kill us. Avrell was only protecting us. He won’t hurt you.”
“If you don’t want anything from me, then why didn’t you kill me like the others? Why are you keeping me here?”
I want to go to his side, but I remember what it was like to be him, so I keep my distance for now. Maybe when he feels more comfortable again, he won’t shy away from the hugs he so desperately needs. “There’s no reason to kill you, Kevin. We’re keeping you because you need medical attention and Avrell is a doctor. He’s going to treat your injuries and we’ll get you fed. Our people are being attacked by more men from Earth II, so we’ll have to go to them soon, but after that, I’m sure our commander, Breccan, will help you get to wherever you want to go.”
“What will he require in return?” Kevin asks acidly.
“Nothing. We aren’t in the business of taking advantage of children.”
Kevin snorts and says, “Then what are you in the business of?”
I think for a moment and say, “Come with me if you want to find out.”
Turning on my heel, I head back to the main labs where Avrell is diligently bent over magnascopes and samples muttering to himself. A few moments later, I hear the tell-tale sound of tentative footsteps and hide my responding smile. He may be frightened, but he’s also very, very brave. He’d have to be to survive in this world—or on Earth II.
Avrell looks up when I stop by his side. “Everything okay with The-Kevin-Named-Kevin, stormy one?” he asks. Before all of this, hearing him call me stormy one would have made me rage and seethe like one of those awful geostorms. Now, it makes my insides glow.
“It’s just Kevin,” I correct him. “And I wanted to explain to him what it is we’re doing here and why it’s important.”