Kozav

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Authors: Celia Kyle, Erin Tate
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to do that was ask for directions. “Ship, directions to medical, please.”
    “Medical is located on deck ravou section ouakh .”
    That didn’t tell her a damn thing. “Let’s try this again,” she grumbled. “Ship, please provide turn-by-turn directions that will get me from this room to medical.”
    “Primary Warrior Kozav joi Grace Hall recommended remaining within the suite.”
    She glared at the room since she wasn’t sure how the ship monitored the area. “Recommending is not the same as ordering. Comply.”
    She wouldn’t ask again. If the ship didn’t listen to her, she’d… Do something really bad. She wasn’t sure what since she wasn’t familiar with Preor vessels, but—
    But the Knowing surged, feeding her data at a rate that made her dizzy and she stumbled toward a nearby chair. She gripped the back, aching to remain on her feet, and waited for it to end. There was a bonus about asking that mental question, though. She didn’t need the ship to provide directions any longer. Apparently the design hadn’t changed in nearly a century and it was well documented in the blood memory.
    “Disregard my request.” Grace padded toward the door, the last of the knowledge settling into her mind. “I’ll handle it myself.”
    She paused at the exit to the room and placed her thumb on the identipad, waiting to see if the ship would let her go or try and keep her captive. It didn’t sound too happy about her finding medical.
    The red light turned green and the doors parted, revealing the hallway beyond. A tremor overtook her, one completely unrelated to exhaustion or worry. Nope. It was more a hint of foreboding with a dash of “this is how women from old horror vids died.” That chill down her spine and the sudden swamping of unease practically screamed that she should go back into the room and crawl under the covers. But that was the easy path, and she hadn’t done easy in years and years. She was used to doing the hard things, to standing up for what she believed and working for what she wanted. At the moment, she wanted her mommy.
    So, death by stupidity or not, she eased from the room, twitching when the metal doors slid shut behind her. She recalled the path outlined by the Knowing, the distant knowledge having her turn right and then left, avoiding the hall that led to the meal area and then doubling back so she also avoided the training rooms. The Knowing was really great at the subterfuge stuff. She was already halfway to medical, even moving as slowly as she was. The Knowing sickness was long gone since she’d been reunited with Kozav, but that didn’t immediately wipe away the fatigue left behind by her riotous emotions throughout the day.
    She was a mere three turns from medical now, two lefts and then a right, which would let her dip around engineering and come out in another mostly deserted area of the ship.
    Quick.
    Easy.
    Until she got close to that next-to-last corner. She’d gotten too cocky—too pleased with herself. Grace hadn’t seen a soul and assumed she was home free since she was so close to medical, but… Yeah, she wasn’t.
    That was when shit got real. Live, in living color, and all over orange.
    She rounded the bend and slammed into a solid wall of flesh, bouncing back. She grasped the biceps of the person— Preor —she’d hit and stumbled, nearly losing her footing. Shock was followed by panic and worry danced on her nerves. Had the ship contacted Kozav and tattled on her? Had he intercepted her?
    No. Because Kozav was teal and this guy with his amber hair and orange wings reminded her of… Screw reminding her of anyone. It was him. “You.”
    “You,” he snarled in return, exposing long, glistening fangs.
    Grace jerked her hands off him and shuffled backward. His rage whipped at her, chasing her, striking her with its intensity. The smart thing would be to back off, apologize, and pray she got out of the situation unhurt. Grovel, Grace, grovel.
    “Sorry

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