The Outcasts

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The Outcasts Page 8

by Alexa Black

“You wanted that badly to touch me, little human?”

  Sue propped herself up on one elbow. “Of course.”

  “Very well.” Kara’s eyes were glittering slits in the dim light. “Now you have.”

  “But I don’t just mean that. I mean…thank you. For letting me touch you. For letting me hear you.”

  Kara shook her head. Sue looked at her horns. They looked strange. Alien. And yet in spite of them, Kara could have been anyone else right now. Anyone who’d confessed something and was glad she did. “Our stories are not to be told. Or so it’s said.”

  “By who? By the Enemy?”

  Kara laughed. “Be careful, Sue Jones. You will start to sound like us if you talk like that.”

  “Maybe I don’t mind sounding like you.”

  It wasn’t completely true, of course. Not with the winds still howling outside, the red storms over a surface that Sue knew hid something terrible. Not with the dream she’d just awoken from. Not with whatever was down there still out there, and no one’s word but a demon’s that the humans trapped down there deserved whatever the hell it was they got.

  But whatever war Kara had fought, whatever horrors she’d committed, whatever a demon still did—

  “You have a story,” Sue said.

  “Of course.”

  “You have a story, and my people haven’t heard it. They’ve heard—we’ve heard—something else. Something the people who told it wanted us to hear. Our priests. Or the angels. Or the gods, or whatever they were.”

  “We were never kind, Sue Jones. We made war and wanted to win it.”

  Sue closed her eyes. Her mind filled with the sounds of riots: fire, screaming, punching, kicking. Curses and insults, and if you were close enough, the sound of spittle flying. “You think that makes you different from humans?”

  “Doesn’t it? We punish you.”

  “You called it absolution before.” Sue gave her a wry grin. “If it’s absolution, then you know what some of us do to ourselves. To each other.”

  Kara growled. “Yes. I know what humans do. I know where humans come from, and I know what humans do.”

  “Then it’s all the same. You’re like us, and we’re like you.”

  The shadows in the room danced. Kara’s phantom wings settled over Sue, a heavy ghost of weight. “That was our fear.”

  “Your fear?” Sue froze. “You don’t mean the rebellion was about us? About humans?”

  “Part of it, yes. Our leader did not like the smell of these new, young beings that our lord had created. They stank of envy, of greed, of pettiness, of hatred.”

  “This was about us.”

  Kara’s arms tightened around Sue. Sue tried to like it, to let it feel good. Protective. Comforting. But now she only felt afraid.

  “This was about many things. Our leader is a prideful one. You will see it, when you meet him.”

  Sue shook her head. Meet the Devil? No, thanks. Not today. Not now. Probably not ever.

  “He was already angry. Already discontent. So were the rest of us. We had always been precious. Favored. Elevated. Prized above all others.”

  Kara’s wing shadows flickered again, snuffing out the light. “We knew, even before the humans were revealed to us, that something would change. Had changed already.”

  Her hand moved on Sue’s back. “By the time he showed your people to us, we had already made up our minds.”

  “Then it wasn’t us?”

  A flare from Kara’s fissures. “I thought it was, for a time. I probably thought it was even when I pulled you from your wreckage.”

  “But now you don’t.”

  “Now I don’t. The only thing seeing humans offered us was an excuse.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  An excuse. To be demons.

  And now here Sue was, a human, alone. A stranger. A member of the race that had started it all. She thought she’d made peace with it, but now her heart hammered in her chest. “When you pulled me from the wreckage?”

  Kara’s eyes narrowed to gleaming slits. “You did not belong here. Mortal or not, I know what it is to be stranded in a hostile place.”

  “The others didn’t see it that way.”

  “The others didn’t find your shuttle.”

  Sue let out a slow breath. “You saw me.”

  “I saw something, in the storm. I knew it looked unfamiliar. So I followed.” Kara shook her head and chuckled. “Perhaps I am an explorer, like you. One needs it, to lead.”

  Sue froze under Kara’s clawed hand. “To lead?”

  Darkness flared out around Kara as her wing shadows shifted. “I was one of my lord’s lieutenants. I was fighting for our people. Or so I believed.”

  “And how do you feel now?”

  “I don’t regret the rebellion. I don’t regret our fight. It was a long time coming. But we were angry with our Enemy, and we should have focused on the ways he wronged us. Not on some new race of mortals who didn’t even know themselves yet.”

  Sue stared around the room. She was here with Kara, safe, for the moment. Because she could be. Because it was safe to be with Kara in a way it never would with anyone else.

  The room glowed and glistened around her. She was naked now, lying on something softer than her cot, with the one who’d touched her as intimately as anyone, here in a strange land.

  “Thank you.”

  “Forgive me,” Kara said, lowering her head. “Forgive us.”

  Me? On behalf of all the humans?

  She reached out for Kara. Wrapped her hand around Kara’s hairless head and drew it close.

  “I’m not every human. I’m just a spacebus driver.”

  “You are Sue Jones. You are my human.”

  My human. It was still arrogant. Still rude. Still the kind of thing no being should say. But somehow, hearing it, Sue felt a tingle spread through her sex and a pulse of warmth deep in her chest.

  She didn’t know how she should talk about that. “And the others don’t even know you’re here. Not until they die.”

  “That is true.”

  “So I can’t forgive you. Not for all of us.” Kara’s eyes flashed, and Sue traced her hand over Kara’s neck. “But I can tell you one thing.”

  She pulled Kara in close, their mouths almost touching. “For me, there’s nothing to forgive.” She pressed her mouth to Kara’s.

  Kara’s eyes widened. She opened her mouth and Sue slipped her tongue in. Her mouth and throat were warm, warm like the rest of her, and Sue clutched at the back of her head.

  After a long, lingering moment, Kara broke the kiss. She drew away and looked at Sue, her head tilted, like she was curious.

  “Thank you,” she said, her voice such a low echo that Sue almost couldn’t hear it.

  * * *

  Kara held up the comb. It looked strange in her hand. A tiny trinket, too delicate, the kind of thing a warrior demon would crush if she even tried to hold it.

  It fit the room, the glowing lights, the monitors, the cot, cleaner than anything Sue had ever lain on. But it didn’t fit Kara’s hand, a shape out of a tale, a legend.

  That comforted her. This impossible being, awesomely powerful, holding a comb for her. It meant that even in this strange world, here in this place, she was safe. Safe as she’d ever be.

  “Human,” Kara said. “Sue.”

  Sue looked sidelong at her. “Yeah.”

  “This is for you. You know that, am I right?”

  “Yes. Yes, I do.”

  Kara reached out and buried a clawed hand in Sue’s hair. “Then let me.”

  “You want to brush my hair.” Like a thing. Like a toy. Like the pet Sue was pretending to be.

  And yet the look in Kara’s eyes was earnest.

  “I thought I would cut it first. So that it doesn’t tangle.”

  “I don’t see scissors.”

  Kara clicked her claws together.

  Sue’s eyes widened. “You can’t be serious.”

  Kara grinned, all f
angs. She laid her hand on Sue’s head like Saja had, forceful and possessive. Sue froze under her hand.

  “Why not? Saja did it. Why shouldn’t I?” She curled her fingers inward, tightening her grip on Sue’s hair.

  Sue squirmed, an effervescent sensation making her twitch. She couldn’t blame it on the hot meal. Not this long after it. “I don’t want you to,” she forced herself to say.

  “Is that so?”

  “You’ve got claws. You won’t cut it evenly.”

  “No.” Kara chuckled. “I won’t. But who are you trying to impress? The only other humans here are on the surface. And I’m sure they don’t care much about your fur.”

  “Hair.”

  “Hair, then.” Kara relaxed her grip and tightened it again.

  She’s playing, Sue realized.

  “Whatever you call it, understand this: People who have already made up their mind to despise you will do it no matter how well you are groomed.” Kara’s wing shadows moved, a sigh under her words.

  Sue swallowed hard. What did she really want? For Kara to go hunting for a pair of scissors, somewhere in a marketplace neither of them belonged in? As normal as the room looked, she was in a demon’s lair.

  “All right,” she said.

  Kara slid her fingers over Sue’s scalp, careful not to prick. One pushed against a knot in her hair, and Kara pulled her hand away.

  She grabbed at a lock of hair and tugged, just tightly enough for Sue to notice the sting. Then her clawed hand reached out to snip through it. Sue watched it fall, a dark knot, ragged-edged and lonely against the pristine floor.

  Cut by Kara’s hands. Hands she’d only imagined from stories. Powerful, dangerous hands—that meant her no harm.

  That sent a new spike of warmth through her. She was here, in her room, the place set aside for her. Protected by someone who’d been an angel a long time ago.

  Kara rumbled, and Sue felt it in her sex. She shifted her hips, but didn’t want relief. Not really. This was its own strange intimacy. Too much desire would just distract her.

  So she breathed in and out and let herself feel it all. Kara’s fingers, wrapping around a lock of hair and tugging it taut. The expectation and the faint thrill, something like excitement and something like fear, knowing a monster’s clawed fingers were coming for her. The claw cutting through her hair. The tension releasing. Over and over, again and again, like the rise and fall of breath or tide.

  She didn’t belong here, not really. But for the moment, it was enough. She closed her eyes.

  When Kara stopped, it felt like silence. A strange pause, a lull in a familiar rhythm. She opened her eyes and looked at Kara, who held up the comb.

  Sue looked at it a moment, then turned her head to look into the mirror. Dark hair framed her face in an uneven bob, its edges jagged. Ugly and crude, and her hair was still full of tangles. But somehow it felt right, next to her torn clothes. Next to the fact she only had one set of clothes. It made her look strong, somehow. Defiant. A stranger in a land too big for her, facing it all anyway, her hair shorn by a demon’s claws.

  She grinned at her reflection. Kara’s reflection grinned too, a thin line of light where her lips parted. She lowered the comb to Sue’s scalp.

  Her touch was confident, the easy grace of a warrior. But she didn’t move the comb, just left it there, like she was thinking.

  “You won’t hurt me.” Sue laughed. And if you do, it’s all part of the bargain. I’m mortal, and you’re Something Else.

  Kara dragged the comb down. Too forcefully, and Sue let out a hiss. But it wasn’t too bad. Kara didn’t know her own strength.

  That sent a thrill through Sue even as she winced. And Kara slowed down, pulling the comb through Sue’s hair with exaggerated gentleness, the comb pinched between her clawed fingers like something delicate and precious.

  I’m fine. I’m not made of glass. Sue didn’t say it aloud. Kara was learning Sue’s limits, learning her body. Better to let her do that herself than try to tell her everything.

  And there was something about the way Kara treated her. Like she was something precious, something a mighty warrior was afraid to break. Maybe being a pet wasn’t all bad.

  The comb snagged on a tangle, and Kara pulled, making that long low sound that meant she was thinking or concentrating. It stung, but it wasn’t too bad. Sue sucked in a breath and let it out again when the comb finally pushed through the knot.

  Sue let her eyes droop but didn’t close them. Not like she had before. Part of her wanted to lose herself, but part of her wanted to watch. To see Kara untangle the knots. To watch herself become clean again.

  Kara worked out the knots and the stinging faded to a tingle in her scalp. She breathed deeply again, gave herself over to the rhythm again. Felt something stir inside her again, an effervescent crackle.

  Kara laid the comb down. She looked at her reflection and Sue’s in the mirror and then reached her hand out to touch Sue’s hair. She ran her fingers through it, the claws just touching Sue’s scalp. “Is that better?”

  Sue smiled. “Yes.”

  “Have I done it correctly?”

  “Almost.”

  Kara frowned.

  “Don’t worry about it. It’s fine. I’m sure I look better than the dead ones.”

  “Yes.” Kara ran her hand through Sue’s hair again. Her hand was warm and felt good against Sue’s scalp. And Kara grinned too. Like she liked the feeling.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Warmth spread under Sue’s skin, but under it all she felt a pang. The dead ones. Whatever happened up here in the Rings, they were still down there. Someday, she’d have to face it. See what the Outcasts did to them. What some of them might do to her if they had the chance. Find out what was really happening here.

  Kara’s hand moved in her hair again. Sue sighed. Best to give in to it, for now. For now, she belonged to Kara, and she would let herself enjoy it.

  Kara patted her again, and then slid her hand down Sue’s cheek and ran a claw over Sue’s lips.

  Oh. Okay, if that’s what you want. Sue kissed Kara’s fingertip and opened her mouth. The clawed finger slipped into her mouth. She closed her lips around it carefully and sucked at Kara’s fingers.

  “Lie down, pet,” Kara said and slid her fingers free.

  Sue quirked an eyebrow at Kara but obeyed. Kara hovered over her, looking down at her with hungry eyes, and Sue’s sex pulsed, already eager.

  Kara leaned down and ran her hands over Sue’s body. Her fingers moved down Sue’s sides, the tips of her claws a gentle tickle, their sharpness a whisper of danger that made Sue gasp and fight to keep from twitching under Kara’s hands.

  Kara curled her hands inward, the claw tips pricking at Sue’s sides. Sue took a shaky breath, trying to keep still, but her hips bucked anyway. Kara laughed and dug in, just enough to prick. Then she flattened her fingertips against Sue’s skin and moved her hands down. Sue spread her legs, waiting.

  But Kara didn’t stop at Sue’s hips or move to her vulva. Instead, she traced her way down Sue’s legs. She paused at Sue’s scar and traced her fingers over it, just as Sue had traced the scars where her wings had been.

  “You don’t need to—” Sue began.

  “Shh.” Kara cut her off, massaging the scarred skin and the muscles beneath.

  Sue sucked in a breath. The scar ached, the skin and muscle hard and twisted. But it would loosen up if she let Kara work at it. And it had been a very long time since someone had bothered to try.

  Sue smiled. The last one to try had been an old boyfriend. Sue wasn’t sure she’d really loved him, but she’d liked his smile and she’d loved his hands. He’d always touched her with care, tending to her old hurts. But she’d always wondered, deep down, if she liked his touch or his reassurance. He’d been there after the boy, holding her, talking to her, trying his best to put her back together with his hands, his kiss, his flesh inside her.

  She’d loved the first and needed the second
and been less than sure about the third. It felt nice enough, his hips crashing against hers as he drove in and in and in. But her mind had always wandered, even as she spasmed around him and cried out his name. She found herself thinking of women. Soft hair and skin, firm breasts, slick vulvas. And a vague sense of guilt and sadness, knowing he was with her and she wasn’t with him, not like she should have been.

  This was different. Every time Kara’s hands moved on her, little tingles thrilled through her. And Kara’s hands were finding her hurt, pressing in, pushing until the hard knots gave. Making her wince only to sigh with relief as the muscle relaxed.

  She stared up into the granite face. “Kara. Please.”

  Kara’s hands slid over the scar and then let go. She chuckled and knelt at the foot of the bed, lowering her head down between Sue’s legs.

  All right then. Sue reached to wrap her hand around the back of Kara’s head.

  Kara kissed the soft skin of Sue’s thigh. Then she opened her mouth, hot with the furnace of her inner fire. Sue moaned and stirred against her.

  Then she felt fangs against her skin. Sharp, like the claws. She trembled once and stilled. Kara lingered there, pressing in just enough not to prick her.

  “Go ahead,” Sue murmured, locking her hand around Kara’s head.

  Kara looked up at her. “You want this?”

  “You’re a warrior. My warrior. You have claws and fangs. That’s who you are. What you are. I want it all.”

  “Very well.”

  Kara kissed her thigh again. Sue closed her eyes. Then the fangs sank into her flesh.

  Pain burst through Sue’s nerves, a sudden shock of sensation. She felt the warmth of her own blood, dripping down where Kara pierced her. All her awareness focused on Kara, on what Kara had done and was doing to her. It scoured away the discomfort, leaving only a searing prick of desire.

  Kara growled and pressed her lips to the wound. Then she opened her mouth and licked away the blood she’d drawn and lapped at the wound. It felt soothing, drowsy, intoxicating, the gentleness a balm.

  Yes. Yes. I want this. I want it all. Sue didn’t say it. All she did was mewl and pant and lock her hand even tighter around Kara’s head.

 

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