Ignis

by Lula Monk

  “Move along!” shouted one of the Cephalopods ahead. A dozen large and bulbous black heads leaned past the entryway, ostensibly to observe the hold up.

  The women started walking again. Another light flared in the woman’s belly, this time on the side closest to Clea.

  “Do you want to feel?” offered Samantha, her glowing eyes turned to Clea expectantly.

  Clea felt slightly repulsed. She’d never understood the fascination some people had with feeling babies kick from the womb. The whole thing was just weird to her. It’s not like she just wanted to go around rubbing on people’s big bellies.

  But at the longing in Samantha’s eyes, Clea faltered. Samantha had no family here, no one with whom to share the joy of her child’s first movements.

  “Sure,” she said, stretching her hand out to touch the woman’s stomach.

  Samantha rested her own hand on top of Clea’s, positioning it over one especially vibrant point of light, as though Clea couldn’t tell by now that the intense flares of illumination were evidence of the child kicking.

  “There!” Samantha said joyfully. “Do you feel it?”

  Clea’s entire body went rigid. Beneath her palm, the woman’s stomach felt warm to the touch, almost hot. Like putting her hand on the door of an oven. And, sure enough, the little bursts of light felt like something within Samantha’s stomach was kicking and swirling about.

  Clea was surprised to find herself smiling. “Looks like you’ve got your own little martial artist in there!”

  Samantha’s smile evaporated, as if Clea’s words brought their reality back to the forefront of her mind.

  “No touching!” shouted one of the guards.

  They were closer the Breeding Sector entryway. Much closer. Which was a good thing, it would seem. The pregnant woman’s elation at feeling the first stirrings of her child was gone from her face, replaced by weariness and fatigue.

  “Good thing we are only one entryway away from the sweet reprieve of rest,” said Samantha with a small laugh. “I have come to look for each of those four entryways as sort of checkpoints on our walks. Breeding Sector is checkpoint one, Knowledge and Triage is checkpoint two…” Samantha’s breath came out raggedly.” When we first begin, I think to myself, ‘If I can just make it to checkpoint two, the others are sure to follow.’”

  Clea’s brow furrowed. “And there are only four?”

  Samantha nodded. “Yes.”

  Clea glanced around the Rim again, once more assessing the construction of the strange clear tube. “What purpose does this place serve? The Rim?”

  Samantha shrugged her shoulder. “I don’t know, really. I’d always assumed it was just a means for some of the creatures to escape the enclosure of the core of the Hub. To get a breath of fresh air, if you could call it that.”

  Clea shook her head absentmindedly, her eyes darting around and assessing the structure. “Nah. That doesn’t make any sense. Traveling through the core is faster, if someone wanted to get somewhere. And it’s not like aliens come to the Hub for the view.”

  Samantha snorted. “You’ve got that right.”

  They were closer to the entryway now, only three pairs of women ahead of them.

  Suddenly, Samantha grew serious, her eyes intent on Clea’s. “What are you thinking?”

  Clea’s shoulders rose and fell. “Not really sure. Just seems like an odd waste of space, on a station designed to pimp out and test breeders.”

  Samantha looked as if she were weighing Clea’s words.

  “You’re right,” she said at last, her voice scarcely more than a whisper.

  Another gear clicked into Clea’s thoughts, sending the other cogs to dance madly in her mind. She slowed to a crawl.

  “Keep a look out, will you?”

  Samantha’s eyebrows crashed together, her face morphing into a mask of confusion. “What are you–?”

  Clea dropped to her belly, and the pregnant woman hissed.

  “Get up!” Samantha pleaded, yanking on the chain that bound them together. “If they see you, we’ll all be in for it!”

  “Shh!” Clea whispered. “I can’t see with you talking so much.”

  Samantha quieted, though Clea could still feel her panic without looking up at the woman.

  From the flat of her belly, Clea peered out towards the Hub, the huge hanging heap of metal shining in the distance. Suddenly, her eyes lighted on what she’d been looking for.

  She leapt to her feet

  “The core’s not all there is,” she whispered excitedly.

  “What?”

  The line had reduced to only two pairs of women before them, the distance to the cephalopod escorts a mere sixty feet.

  Clea dropped her voice even lower. “The core. That’s not all there is.”

  “Of course not,” said Samantha hotly. “There are the four sectors as well. Plus the hydroponics chamber.”

  “No,” Clea said quickly. “There are extensions beneath the Hub too!”

  “What do you mean, ‘extensions’?”

  Clea shrugged, staring ahead. Best to look as if they were not conversing at all. They were only a single pair of women away. Less than thirty feet to the entryway now.

  “I don’t know,” she whispered to Samantha. “But I know for a fact they are there.”

  “Describe them,” commanded Samantha in a tight whisper. “What do they look like? How many?”

  The Cephalopods waved them onward. They walked slowly, as if knowing without saying the words that they should tarry on the metal walkway.

  “Can’t tell. But we can look again tomorrow.”

  “No, we can’t,” said Samantha with a slight edge of panic in her voice. “We are never allowed to walk with the same woman twice!”

  “What?”

  “No talking!”

  Samantha craned her head down to hide her mouth, her lips moving quickly. “It’s true. I may not see you again, before the revolution begins.”

  Clea’s guts twisted in her stomach. How was she to know what the red-eyed woman’s plan was if she didn’t find out right now? And there was no time to find out right now.

  Then it dawned on her. I’ll learn her plan the same way everyone else does: through the grapevine.

  “I’ll get word to you, about the structures under the Hub,” she whispered to Samantha in soft tones, barely audible to her own ears. She hoped the woman heard her.

  A slimy tentacle jutted out into the Rim to wrap around their shared chain. The Cephalopod yanked them into the corridor of the Breeding Sector. A moment later, the shackle around Clea’s wrist fell to the floor, severing the tie between her and Samantha.

  A tall, silvery blue alien stood waiting nearby, his obviously muscular body clad in a plan jumpsuit. He smiled at Samantha.

  Seeing the alien, Samantha reached out her hand, allowing the massive creature to pull her against him.

  Clea looked on in awe, marveling at the way the alien was tender with Samantha. It would appear the Glim loved the red-eyed woman in return.

  Something evil and ugly gnawed at Clea’s chest.

  Jealousy.

  She shook her head. She had no reason to be jealous of Samantha. The woman was pregnant with an alien baby. A freak. Clea felt dirty for thinking the unkind thought, considering she’d not minutes before felt the child kicking in Samantha’s stomach. But she couldn’t help it.

  As she watched Samantha and her alien retreat down the corridor, Clea’s soul felt road-worn and weary. She was a long way from home, and part of her longed for the apparent connection Samantha had found in her alien.

  A slippery tentacle coiled around Clea’s wrist, the suction cups wrapping up to fasten themselves to her forearm. She yanked against the pull of the Cephalopod guard.

  “Get off me! I can walk just fine by myself!”

  In response, the Ceph yanked her roughly down the hallway. “Chief Officer Slep said you are to be given no further luxuries.”

  “What luxur
ies?” scoffed Clea.

  “You were permitted to walk with the Glim’s woman today.”

  Clea’s skin crawled as the Ceph yanked on her arm again, its suction cups slipping and sliding against her flesh. Guess it wasn’t as attached to me as I though.

  “I would hardly call that a luxury, “said Clea quietly.

  Another harsh yank of the arm.

  “Could you ease up just a bit?” Clea asked, using her free hand to try to pry the tentacle from her arm. “You don’t have to be so damn rough.”

  “Your owner has displeased the Chief Officer.”

  Clea’s heart turned to ice. “So? What does that mean for me?”

  “Slep doesn’t like your owner. Therefore, he doesn’t like you.”

  The sight of the tall insectoid looming over her fire-clad alien pierced Clea’s mind and made her shiver.

  Whoa.

  The fire-clad alien, not her fire-clad alien.

  She wanted no part of ownership in that thing’s existence, not even in the recesses of her own mind.

  Thankfully, the guard soon stopped at the blank section of wall sporting the small scorch marks from Ignis’s flames. The guard’s fleshy tentacle rapped against the metal.

  A moment later, a portal appeared in the wall.

  The overwhelming stench of gasoline penetrated Clea’s nose, making her eyes water. She squeezed her lids tightly, using her free hand to block her nose. When she opened her eyes, she beheld the muscular and very naked body of Ignis.

  Her eyes widened, her fingers splaying wide to block her view. But that didn’t keep her from sneaking a quick peek at…

  What the hell am I doing?

  She mentally kicked herself and tried to turn away from the sight of the alien’s fully exposed body. But the Cephalopod escort wouldn’t let her budge. Instead, the creature slung Clea through the portal, right into the arms of Ignis.

  Chapter 8

  Ignis

  Ignis felt the cool flesh of the woman’s face against his chest. As if repulsed, she pushed herself away from him, swatting at her eyes.

  Ignoring the Ceph still standing in the corridor, Ignis slapped his palm on the wall. The surface around his hand emitted a sickening green glow, and the portal disappeared.

  He sniffed the air. The Earth woman smelled of musk and something else… something feminine. Ignis looked down into her eyes and sneered at the shimmering moisture he found there.

  “What are you looking at?” he growled.

  The woman jumped. Her cheeks brightened with heat and blood.

  Ignis was prepared to sneer at her again, ready to be disgusted by her weakness. His present mood would make such a thing welcome; he longed to spar with someone, even if he must settle by issuing blows with his words against the fragile Earthling before him.

  To his surprise, the woman swatted at her eyes, giving him a steely glare. She tossed her thick braids over her shoulders. “You stink.”

  Ignis sneered. “No more than you.”

  “I beg to differ. You smell like an oil spill.”

  Ignis frowned.

  “I was having a shower,” he said, gesturing to the cleansing chamber, the term he’d settled on in his mind to replace the damnable phrase ‘hydro chamber.’

  “You clean yourself with gasoline? That’s disgusting.”

  Ignis widened his stance, trying to look intimidating. He rested his fists on his hips, throwing his shoulders back. “You think so, eh? What would you suggest then?”

  Clea’s dark brown eyes lingered at the space between his legs. Ignis found himself smiling at her embarrassment.

  “Water,” she said suddenly. “Most regular people shower with water.”

  Ignis scoffed. “We Arda are opposed to water, in all its forms.”

  He was surprised to hear the Earth woman laugh. “And yet you think you can get me pregnant, huh? That we can mate, and all will be hunky-dory?”

  “I do not know this phrase,” Ignis said, taking a step towards her. “But I can assure you – when we mate, I will not be getting wet.”

  The Earth woman laughed heartily now, the flesh around her eyes wrinkling pleasantly. “You really don’t know shit about my people, do you?”

  Ignis was taken aback. Was she… insulting him?

  “Are you questioning my intelligence?” He felt his flames building, but he held them at bay. The Earth woman was right; he was covered in gasoline, and the fumes alone may be enough to set the air ablaze if he let his flames out. Even if the woman didn’t get burned, her oxygen supplies in the room would be depleted. And he had no desire to wait for her to recuperate in the medical bay yet again. There was important work to be done. Namely, mating.

  Gylenda…

  Ignis shook his head, shaking the name from his mind. He could not think of his wife right now. Not in this room, with the dark woman at his side.

  Not if he was to do what needed to be done.

  As if sensing his ire, the woman’s smile evaporated. Ignis had to give her that, at least; her sense of self-preservation was strong.

  “No,” she said softly. “I wasn’t calling you stupid.” She shifted back and forth on her feet, one arm rising to cross across her chest, the hand wrapping around her elbow. “I only meant that you are slightly uninformed about my kind.”

  Ignis sighed, crossing his arms. “In what way? I imagine fucking’s just about the same, no matter where you are in the galaxy.”

  “You’d be surprised,” said Clea

  “Oh really? Why don’t you enlighten me?”

  “What happens if an Ardan gets wet?”

  Ignis’s eyes clouded, the storms of his mind building. “That is none of your concern.”

  “It is if you plan on mating with me.”

  “And just what is that supposed to mean, pray tell?” He took a step toward the Earth woman, fighting hard to keep his flames at bay. “Do you have plans to attack me then? Hmm? Perhaps douse me with water when I am indisposed beneath you?”

  Clea quirked an eyebrow. “You’d expect me to be on top?”

  Ignis was taken aback. His tongue felt knotted in his mouth. “I just assumed that would be your preference.”

  Another surprised arching of the brows, this time both rising high on her forehead. Genuine shock evident. “And you would care about my preference, in this forced mating you insist on?”

  Ignis recoiled at her words. “I will not force you to mate.”

  The dark woman crossed her arms before her, mimicking Ignis’s stance. “You appear to be out of luck then, on the offspring front.”

  “Oh really?” He flexed his fists at his sides.

  “Really. Because I damn sure don’t plan on fucking you of my own volition.”

  Ignis’s heart hammered in his chest, his body reacting to the woman’s unspoken words. He did so loved a challenge.

  “You think so?” he asked said pointedly. He lowered his arms and sauntered up to the Earth woman, clasping her hip bones beneath his powerful wide hands. In one fluid moment, he pulled the woman’s pelvis against his own, thrilling in the wide-eyed look of surprise that bloomed across her face. His hands traveled back, his upper body arching over hers, reaching lower to cup her firm buttocks.

  Clea quaked beneath his touch.

  Ignis’s hands traveled slowly up the small of her back. The Earth woman shivered again. He sent his left hand coursing to the front of her body to cup her ample breast, while his right hand darted upward, tangling in her thick braids, coiling them like a length of rope.

  He jerked her head back, his lips exploring the sleek arch of her throat…

  Ignis, my love…

  Gylenda’s voice invaded his mind, sending a spear of pain lancing through his heart.

  Ignis sucked in a sharp breath, the action inadvertently causing him to scent the room again. The feminine aroma of the dark woman was more prominent now. She breathed hard against his cheek, her breath sweet and ripe with longing.

  He pus
hed himself to continue, his mouth traveling the length of her ebony throat. Her jaw. Her chin.

  He tightened his hold on her braids, sending her head arcing back a degree more. His lips hovered above hers now, the flesh of their mouths grazing with each inhalation of breath. As the two breathed in and out as one, he reveled in that feeling of sharing air with another creature.

  You are my soul’s fire.

  He clamped his eyes shut, willing the voice to leave his head. He could not do what needed to be done… he could not bear to lie with the Earth woman with the voice of his dead wife in his mind.

  Eager to do the act and be done, Ignis clutched the dark woman’s head between both of his hands. He shared another breath with her, his chest pressing against hers, the beating of her heart intensifying. The rhythm, strangely enough, matched his own.

  Though he knew what needed to be done, but still he hesitated.

  They both breathed in again, he and the Earth woman, once more sharing the air between them. On the exhale, Ignis pulled her head forward, sending his lips crashing into hers.

  He poured all he had into that kiss. All of his grief and anguish and anger. All of his pent-up passion and longing. All of the bloodlusting he’d denied for so many annum. He threw it all into his fevered exploration of the Earth woman’s mouth, parting her lips with his tongue and feasting on the taste of her.

  Ignis, my darling. I swear to be with you always, in life and in death.

  Gylenda’s words on the day of their union blazed through Ignis’s mind like a torrent of hellfire.

  A mournful, rage-laden wail clawed its way up his throat, breaking the kiss with the Earth woman. Blinded by sorrow, Ignis shoved the woman away.

  Clea landed on her ass on the floor, her eyes glaring up at him as though they meant to set him on fire.

  Good. He longed to burn.

  “Fuck you,” she said, rubbing at her lips as though to remove the taste of him from her mouth.

  “That’s the whole point of this, isn’t it?” Ignis raged. He stepped forward, leaning low over the woman prostrate body. “Your whole purpose now is to be fucked. Wrap your head around that.”

  His flames were building inside him. He felt their eager and incessant burning along his spine, begging to be released.