Linsora stepped from the shadows of the ship. She casually walked over and stood next to Permac, her hands in her pockets.
“So,” the woman said, “there are two of you. One purebred…” she looked at Permac, smiled, and slowly ran the tip of her tongue across her lower lip, “…and one, what exactly are you?”
“She is my mate,” he said. He knew Linsora was reaching for a knife and probably had two of them in her hands already. “If you’ve come here to pillage the skiff, you’re too late. I think your friends were here last night.”
“What?” The stranger seemed genuinely surprised. “No, the Others were here. I am Tayla, of the Hakan people.”
She smiled again. Permac could feel Linsora becoming calm but not through his influence. The woman was sending emotions to both of them, urging them to trust her, but her eyes did not change color. As the feelings became stronger, Permac resisted. His eyes blazed a bright violet.
Linsora spat, but the taste in her mouth remained. She felt too relaxed to do more than spit again.
“Who are you?” Permac whispered.
The woman’s smile had become strained. She nodded to Permac as if to indicate the match had been a draw. Her influences vanished. “As I said, I will be happy to answer your questions. I saw another crashed ship farther west. It looks like one of the Others’ and they’ll be back before long. I prefer not to be here when they arrive. You may come with me, or you may stay here,” she said. “But I am leaving.”
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