He brushed against Lauren as he reached for his shirt and she felt something warm and wet on the back of her arm. Looking down, she saw a smear of dark red on her skin. “Xairn?” She looked up at him questioningly.
“What?” He was already shrugging into the shirt but she stopped him with one hand on his arm. Looking closer, she saw the source of the red liquid. Blood—it was welling up from a cut on his side, somewhere under the waistband of his black flight pants.
“What’s that?” she demanded, pointing to his side. “Why didn’t you tell me you were wounded?”
The big warrior looked down as though noticing his wound for the first time. “A scratch. I got into several altercations on my way back to you. That’s the main reason I was late.”
“It’s a lot more than a scratch. Let me see it.” When he started to refuse, Lauren made her voice strict. “I said let me see it.”
“I would prefer that you didn’t,” he said stiffly. But she was already unbuckling his belt and pushing the black pants lower down his muscular abdomen and hips to see the extent of his injuries. Sure enough, there was a long, nasty gash running up from the front of his right hip to the curve of his back. Thankfully, it didn’t look deep but it was still oozing blood and Lauren was afraid it might become infected.
“Wait right here,” she said. “I think I saw some kind of first aid kit thingy in the bathroom. I’ll be right back.”
She grabbed the mini-suitcase she’d seen earlier—it was filled with what looked like bandages and bottles with alien script written on them—and brought it back to Xairn. He was still standing in the middle of the ship as still as a statue with a frown on his face.
“Okay now,” Lauren said. “You’re going to have to help me with this because I don’t read Kindred.” She looked up at him. “Uh, do you?”
“I am fluent in over two hundred languages and dialects. And yes, the Kindred common tongue is one of them,” he answered.
Lauren let out a low whistle. “Wow! That’s amazing. Is that a Scourge thing?”
He shook his head. “I have an aptitude for languages. To my knowledge, it is not common among my people. Perhaps…I may have inherited the ability from my mother.”
“You’ve never talked about her before,” Lauren said softly. “Were you…very young when she died?”
“I do not know if she is living or dead,” Xairn said stonily. “Only that my father took me from her soon after I was born.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I just assumed…”
“It doesn’t matter.” He shook his head and then pointed to a green plasti-glass bottle with a strange looking stopper on it. “That is the disinfectant. You should use it first.”
“Of course.” Lauren felt like she’d really put her foot in her mouth, asking about his mother. It was clear he didn’t want to talk about her or her fate—whatever it had been. She fiddled for a moment with the stopper on the bottle—and it came off in her hand. “Oh!” She looked at it in surprise. The stopper was attached to a long wand with a bulbous end. It was dripping with clear, viscous fluid. She looked up at Xairn. “So I guess I just…spread it on with this?”
He nodded. “Yes.”
Lauren shrugged. “Okay.” Carefully, she touched the bulbous end of the wand to the start of the long gash and began to paint the wound with the viscous liquid.
Xairn drew in a hissing breath and all the muscles in his big body clenched at once.
“Oh, I’m so sorry!” Lauren looked up at him. “Does it sting?”
“It’s not pleasant but I will survive. Please continue—Slk is waiting for us.”
“All right.” Lauren went back to painting the wound but as she went, she blew a soothing stream of cool air to try and ease the sting.
Xairn looked down at her frowning. “What are you doing?”
“Just trying to make it feel better.” Lauren looked up at him sheepishly. “Uh, my mom used to do it for me. She’d always blow on my cuts before she put the band aid on.” She shrugged. “It made it hurt less. Do you want me to stop?”
A strange look came over his face and his voice was a little less remote when he answered. “No, that’s all right. You can continue if you want.”
“Good.” Lauren smiled at him and went back to the business at hand. When she had the entire cut painted with disinfectant, she put the stopper back in the green bottle and rummaged around in the little suitcase for what looked like a roll of gauze. But as she was about to unroll it, Xairn held out a hand.