Free Dark Horse by Michelle Diener Page B

they do.”
    The runnerʼs engines purred to life and she looked over at it. Braced herself for more confinement. “Well then, letʼs go.”
    “We arenʼt the Tecran, Rose.” He said it quietly.
    She looked over at him. “I wouldnʼt be coming with you if you were.”

10
    “ M y men said you were talking. At the river.” Dav leaned forward, elbows on his thighs, and let himself luxuriate in Roseʼs scent. She smelled of yuiar, the rare and delicate spice found on the Bukari home world. Heʼd smelled it on her since theyʼd met, but here in the close confines of the runner, with no fresh breeze to blow it away, it swirled around him.
    Of the five species represented on the United Council, the Bukari were the de facto leaders. Theirs tended to be the voice of reason, more so than the Grih, the Tecran, the Garmma or the Fitali. But he didnʼt think the Tecran would ever have shown Rose to a Bukarian, not if they wanted to hide what they were doing, so he wondered how sheʼd come by the fragrance.
    She had been alternating between staring at his hands, his hair, and a spot on the floor by his feet since they left Harmon half an hour ago, and she slowly raised her head at his statement.
    “Was I?” She frowned, but there was also a pretty blush on her cheeks. “Oh. Perhaps I was.”
    Was she lying? He couldnʼt be sure. There was something there, but he just didnʼt know enough to guess.
    “What were you saying?”
    She slid down a little in her chair, crossed her arms over her stomach, and held his gaze. He felt the frisson generated by her challenge along his arms, down his spine, and everything in him tightened.
    “I was talking the situation over.” She kept eye contact, and he wondered, as his senses stirred and his blood pumped faster, if she was aware of what she was doing.
    “Why?” His voice was rough.
    She opened her mouth, closed it. Paused. “Does it matter? I wasnʼt disturbing anyone, so it should be no oneʼs business but my own.”
    Her Grih almost couldnʼt cope with that sentence, but she managed it, her voice so beautifully fluid and smooth, and then she shot him a smile at the end, pleased with herself for managing the vocabulary. The challenge in her stare dissipated and he couldnʼt help but smile back, his body relaxing again.
    “Itʼs cultural? To talk to yourself?”
    She gave a laugh. “If youʼre kept in what amounts to solitary confinement, yes. Very culturally acceptable to become a madwoman who talks to herself.”
    She called herself a madwoman, but it was clear she was sane, incredibly intelligent, and very resilient. And, he conceded, it was culturally acceptable for his own people to talk to themselves when they had no companionship for days on end, too.
    It was obviously a habit sheʼd fallen into.
    “I donʼt think youʼre mad.”
    She grimaced. “It would have been better to have been mad, sometimes.” She looked away and shrugged again.
    He didnʼt know how to comfort her, and decided to distract her instead.
    There was something that had interested him almost since this strange situation started. Something she might be able to answer. “What was the life-form that was killed in the Class 5ʼs launch bay?”
    “The lion?” Her gaze met his again. “You canʼt believe how magnificent it was.”
    “Why did they kill it?”
    Anger flared in her eyes, and she sat straighter, her movements choppy. “Because it was frightening the Tecran who were trying to load it into the explorer craft, and slowing them down, apparently.”
    “You are upset about it.”
    She gave a tight nod. “I feel protective of all the animals that were taken with me. They didnʼt even have the benefit of working out what was going on. One moment they were free, then next, stuck in that terrible place. I lived with them every day for three months.”
    “I am sure Lieutenant Kila would welcome your input into their care when my team has captured them all.”
    “She wonʼt hurt them?”
    “I