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It felt like hours later, but was probably only a few minutes before Dave stood. He swayed on his feet, but his cousin steadied him. More men had arrived with rifles and lights, searching the rest of the immediate area surrounding the grotto in case the dead cat had friends nearby. Other men held a stretcher onto which they loaded Grady’s unconscious body.

As they carried him out, Gina and Jim followed right behind. Jim’s arm around her shoulders felt like the only thing keeping her together. She snuggled into Jim’s side, as close to the litter bearing Grady as possible.

When they got to the smooth floors of the facility, the stretcher was placed on a gurney so Grady could be wheeled to the small medical facility they’d found on the old military base. Jaci met them at the door, Bill a silent presence behind her. She took over, working closely with David while she checked Grady’s vitals.

“He lost so much blood.” Gina worried as Jim held her in one corner of the room.

“He’ll be all right.” Jaci took a moment to reassure her. “Alvians can survive blood loss that would kill a human. We have the ability to regenerate fluids—blood included—at a much faster rate than you do. However, he might require some serum in the short term, if either Bill or I are compatible with his blood type.”

“Could you use human blood?” Jim asked. She felt his earnestness and his true desire to help Grady. In that moment she knew that no matter what problems they faced in the future, Jim had come to terms with their three-way relationship.

Jaci looked thoughtful. “It might be possible, but it has never been done to my knowledge. It would be safer if Bill or I could contribute.” She kept moving as she replied, using pieces of equipment Gina didn’t recognize. “This—,” Jaci held up a small instrument that looked to be of alien origin, “—will type his blood.” A quick run through the blood still coating areas of Grady’s body and the small instrument chimed. “Ah, Zed Alpha. I cannot donate.” Jaci’s gaze rose to Bill’s as he entered the room fully, already rolling up his sleeve.

“I will do it.” Bill sat in the chair next to the head of the bed, talking to Jaci. “I am Zed Beta Gamma. It should be compatible enough until his bodily systems take over.”

Jaci smiled. “You are right, of course. Good. This will do the trick.” Quick as a flash, she set up a transfusion directly from Bill’s veins to Grady’s. It was only a few minutes before she removed the equipment linking the men. Gina didn’t think it had been long enough, but the rosy color in Grady’s cheeks gave her hope.

A few seconds later, his eyes opened and she breathed a huge sigh of relief.

“Is Gina all right?” were the first words from his lips.

“I’m fine,” she cried, rushing to his side and grasping his hand. “You saved me, my love. You both did.”

A beatific smile curled the corners of his mouth. “I like that. My love.”

“Oh, Grady,” she leaned in to place kisses on his cheeks. “I love you so much!”

“As I love you.”

Chapter Eighteen

Grady was up and around much faster than Gina would have believed, had she not seen it for herself. Dave’s healing power had closed the worst of his wounds, but Grady’s Alvian physiology took over where that had left off. He was able to leave the medical facility under his own steam the next morning. Gina and Jim had spent the night near him, sharing a hospital bed next to his. Every hour, Gina would rise to check on Grady, glad to see him progressing each time.

In the morning, the trio walked together into the cafeteria for breakfast and Gina was touched by how many people came up to give Grady and Jim a pat on the back, a word of admiration or a quiet thank you for killing a creature that had been a threat to all of them. She knew Grady was uncomfortable with the praise. He was also surprised by it. When several of the women leaned up to give him pecks on the cheek and a quick hug, he was totally nonplussed.

Gina went to him, taking his arm and smiling up at him. He had so much to learn about having feelings, but she’d help him. She loved him. She could do no less.

“So where do you want to sit?” Gina asked once they’d gathered their trays.

“I would like to talk to Bill,” Grady responded. “To thank him for his assistance last night. Alvians don’t often require the sharing of blood. What he did was special.”

“I didn’t realize.” Gina heard the reverence in his tone. Jim shrugged when she looked over at him and they followed behind Grady as he made his way to the table where Bill sat alone.

“May we sit?” Grady asked formally as they stood before the table.

“You need never ask, brother.”

Gina felt the wave of feeling that rushed through Grady at Bill’s words.

“Are you two related?” The nonsensical question slipped out before she thought better of it.

Jim pulled out her chair as they sat around the table. Bill held her attention as he explained.

“Sharing of blood among Alvians is rare. It forms a bond.”

“Sorta like blood brothers?” Jim asked. Both aliens looked at him in surprise.

“How did you know?” Grady’s gaze rested uneasily on Jim.

“It’s an Old West thing from the days of cowboys and Indians. If you want to adopt someone into your family, you slash your palms and shake, mixing blood. It’s a symbolic thing.”

Both Alvians seemed to consider Jim’s words.

“It is not like that among our people,” Bill said after due thought. “The sharing of blood leaves lasting markers in the recipient. We are both of the Zed blood group. Before last night, Grady was of the Alpha variety, while I was Beta Gamma. I was born Gamma, but have shared blood once before with a Beta. That transfusion left me with a marker of Beta in my body. By giving my blood to Grady, he will in future be Zed Alpha Beta Gamma, once his body acclimates.”

Gina was astonished by the idea. “I don’t think it works that way for humans, but I’m not a doctor.”

“In the distant past, our blood groups played a part in determining our tribal affiliations. All that changed of course, once the scientists started meddling with our DNA.”

“So yours was a tribal society?” Jim asked as he ate his breakfast.

“In part,” Bill clarified. “Social ranking was based on both tribe and profession. Often, certain skill sets would be found predominantly within a particular tribe. Soldiers, for example, were often Sinclairs or Gradys, to use us as examples. Not always, of course. Not like it is now. But a large percentage of our relatives would probably have naturally selected to be soldiers, peacekeepers, trackers, investigators and the like. Some would have followed their own paths, into different professions. Now, of course, there is no diversity.”

“I think my great-great-grandmother—if I can call her that—was part of the Governing Council representing healers,” Grady said thoughtfully.

“Who?” Bill asked, his brow raised.

“Councilor Senel Grady of the last Council before the great experiment.”

The name apparently had some meaning among Alvians. At least Bill looked impressed.

“I once compared my DNA scans with hers and found a startling number of corresponding base pairs. Enough to conclude that her DNA contributed significantly to mine.”

“This is astounding news,” Bill dropped his fork. “I wonder if it’s possible to trace my parentage in such a way?”

“No doubt Jaci could tell you. She was a genetic tech.”

“I will ask her. Thank you for the idea.”

He looked so hopeful, Gina found herself praying there was some way Bill could find similar information about himself. These Alvians—the ones with feelings—seemed to want so much to belong, to understand where they came from, to find their roots. It was touching really.