by Ruby Dixon
L’ren stares at me in shock and horror. Her hand goes over her swollen teats. “R usrs? M’nakd!” She drops to her haunches on the platform and hugs her knees to her chest. “Nd smthg tu wr!”
“Do not be frightened,” I reassure her, moving to her side and crouching next to her. So skittish, my mate. So terrified of everything. “J’shel is a friend.” To him, I call out, “Come up!”
The kit wails again and I hear the squawk of Fat One, joining in. The tree hollow creaks and groans, a sign that J’shel is climbing up. I get to my feet.
L’ren realizes this, too, and she makes an unhappy noise, shoving the light-bowl into my hands and then plastering herself against my back. She wraps her arms around me from behind, and the sound she makes is indignant.
Is she trying to camouflage herself against me? I glance down at the pink hands against my chest, but they remain the same color. Does she not realize she cannot turn colors? Has she lost the ability?
J’shel emerges from the tree a moment later, with Z’hren in a leather sling against his chest, Fat One perched on his shoulder. He looks tired and frustrated after a day of watching the kit but pauses at the sight of L’ren hiding behind me. “Is that…” He looks at me, shocked. “What is that, K’thar?”
“It is a female,” I tell him proudly and put a fist to my chest. “Listen. I resonate to her.”
His mouth falls open in surprise and he jiggles the kit against his chest as it wails again. “I do not understand. How? Was she hiding with another clan?”
“I do not think she is from a clan,” I tell him, stroking her hand as she clings to me. “I found her in an egg with another female. R’jaal took that one.”
“What? Why?” He gives me a betrayed look. “Why did you not bring another female here? Both N’dek and I do not have mates either!”
“I know this, brother. But R’jaal arrived on the shore at the same time I did.” I quickly tell him the story of the strange egg and the females inside. “It seemed better to share than to fight.”
He nods thoughtfully even as Fat One pushes off his arm, fluttering over to my shoulder and landing there with a thump. Behind me, L’ren makes a startled sound as Fat One starts to sniff her. “Did R’jaal resonate to the other?”
“Not that I saw.”
J’shel’s eyes gleam. “What clan was she?” He tries to peer over my shoulder at my female.
Now is the time I must explain to him what my L’ren is…but I am not entirely sure I know myself. “She is of no clan, like my female.”
And I pull away from L’ren so he can look at her face.
LAUREN
I am going to straight up murder K’thar for introducing me to his buddy while I’m freaking topless!
He moves away from me, leaving me without a human(ish) shield to cover my nudity, and I bite back my scream of irritation and cup my hands over my breasts. “Little warning next time?” I bite out at him.
The newcomer’s eyes go wide at the sight of me. He looks like K’thar, I think, with a similar build. His hair is in one long braid whereas K’thar’s is loose around his shoulders. And he’s better looking than his friend, but I’m biased, of course. My cootie ensures that.
The new guy gestures at me and begins spitting a stream of syllables at K’thar. Probably a lot of “who the hell is she?” I can relate. I want to say the same thing, except no one understands me. They begin talking in low tones, and as they do, I study my surroundings.
We’re still high up in the trees. Not my favorite place to be, but it’s quiet up here, I guess. New sounds are coming out of the jungle with the night, and it doesn’t sound entirely safe, so for once I’m glad we’re not close to the ground. This place is odd, though. It’s a big tree, fat and broad, and looks as if it’s been hollowed out. The inside glows with a faint greenish light just like the little bowl that K’thar holds in front of him. I guess that’s the nighttime light source.
Makes sense not to have a fire being that we’re in a tree and all.
Something squawks—like a chicken with more bass in its voice—and then hops from K’thar’s shoulder onto my bare arm. I fight back a screech of alarm because this has to be a pet. Farli had a big furry, ugly-ass pony. It makes sense that someone here would have a pet. I’m just not entirely sure what this thing is. The face looks a bit like a cross between a lizard and a cat, and its wings are hairless. There’s no tail and it has a tiny crest arching back from its pointy little head. It has big eyes that gleam like a cat’s in the dark, but it doesn’t have feathers or fur. The feet clinging to my arm remind me of a bird, though. And it’s round and fat and gazes up at me like its expecting to be fed.
Weird.
“Kki,” K’thar says, and makes a clicking sound with his tongue. The thing makes another rumbling sound of protest and then hops back over to K’thar, abandoning me in favor of moving to his shoulder and preening against his ear. It’s like a bird, and for some reason, it warms my heart.
He’s got a pet bird. Sure, there’s no beak or feathers, but the way it flutters its wings? Bird. The claws that dug into my skin without breaking it? Bird. The way it’s cooing at him like it expects treats? It reminds me of my own sweet bird that I left behind. I’m hit by a wave of homesickness that leaves me teary.
K’thar moves forward mid-conversation, waving off his friend. He touches my face, noticing my distress, and then glances at the way I’m cupping my hands over my boobs. He says something to his friend, who adjusts the baby in his arms. A moment later, K’thar has the leather wrap and offers it to me.
Oh.
I smile at him through my tears and take it, turning around and wrapping it around my torso. I’ll take a makeshift tank top. Already I feel better, and when I turn around, my tears are drying and I’m able to concentrate a little more.
Both men are staring at me, the newcomer tilting his head as if he’s trying to figure me out as he holds the baby under his arm. K’thar’s gaze is an entirely different sort of stare. It’s hot and possessive and speaks of all kinds of dirty things that make me want to press my thighs tightly together.
I am so having dirty dreams tonight. I just know it.
The new guy gestures at my tits and then the baby. He picks the child up and holds it out in my direction.
Oh, hell no. “Just because I have boobs doesn’t mean I get the kids,” I protest, edging toward K’thar.
He shakes his head at his friend and taps his chest, then points at my heart. I know what that means. Resonance.
The other protests, gesturing at my boobs again and then the baby’s mouth.
It hits me. “I’m not nursing! I just resonated! That means I can have babies, not that I have all the babies, you doofus!”
K’thar scowls at him and takes the baby from his friend’s hands and tucks him under his arm. He says something to his friend and the other guy rubs his face, tired. They talk for a little longer, and I realize that neither of them is probably the parent of the little guy. They don’t seem to know what to do with him, and as the baby shoves one fist (of four) into his mouth and sucks on it, I wonder where the little one’s mama is. K’thar holds him awkwardly, and after a moment, I decide to step in.
“Come on, now. Even I did a lot of babysitting when I was a kid,” I say, moving forward to take the baby from him. I’m surprised at how solid the kid is. He’s a heavy little thing, and the four arms immediately wave in utter delight as I tuck him against my side and rock him back and forth. Three fists immediately pull on my hair while the other pats my jaw. Well, that can’t be helped. He’s cute, though, all roly-poly baby fat and light blue skin. As I pick him up, he immediately changes colors to match my skin and gives me a happy, toothless little smile.
Okay, that’s cute. “Where’s your mama, little guy?” I bounce him on my hip. “Is she coming up here?”
He coos at me and tugs on my hair. Can’t be more than a few months old, this little guy. I bet he’s a handful. I glance over at the othe
r two, wishing I could understand their low conversation. It doesn’t seem like anyone else is coming up, and I eye the tree again. Sure looks like a big home for just two guys. Well, two guys and a random baby. I feel like I’m missing part of the story.
No surprise since no one speaks my language.
The newcomer gives me a tired smile and says something to K’thar, then heads back down into the tree.
K’thar moves back toward me, and I guess we’re alone again. Well, except for the baby we inherited. I keep holding the little guy, and a weird thought occurs to me. Is the kid being left with us because…because it belongs to K’thar? But that can’t be. He resonated to me.
I’m ashamed to say I feel a stab of irrational jealousy for a brief moment. It’s silly. The khui in my chest tells me the truth. It’s that same khui that’s making me feel jealous over a guy I met earlier today.
In my heart I know I’m being ridiculous. If I sit and think logically, I know this isn’t his baby. It’s been explained quite clearly to me how resonance works and if he resonates to me, he won’t resonate to anyone else, ever. Resonance is very much a one-and-done. Now if my hormones could just chill out and realize that, everything will be great.
Except…my hormones really aren’t that great at chilling out. K’thar takes the baby from me and begins to rock him, soothing him in the way that someone fairly experienced in such things would. The baby fusses for a bit and K’thar makes soft clucking noises with his tongue, then produces an enormous egg from one of the baskets propped up against the base of the tree. He carefully punctures a hole in the top of the egg and offers it to the baby like it’s a bottle. I’m a little unnerved to see the little guy take it in his hands and suck the contents out, but if there’s no mom around, I guess they don’t have a lot of feeding options.
If there’s no mom in the picture, that also explains why it’s a couple of guys taking care of a baby. I shouldn’t criticize, because the baby looks fat and healthy and K’thar smiles down at him with a fondness that makes my ovaries do another flip.
“What’s his name?” I ask softly.
K’thar glances up at me, curiosity in his eyes.
I point at him. “K’thar.” Then myself. “Lauren.” Then I point at the baby.
Recognition dawns on his face. He gives the child a jiggle and then sits him up, patting his back. Like any other baby, the little guy squirms and then belches. “Z’hren,” K’thar tells me. It’s so slurred together and said so quickly that I’m sure I won’t be able to pronounce it right, but I try anyhow, and earn a pleased nod from K’thar.
Little Z’hren waves a fist at K’thar, smacking him in the jaw and babbling. K’thar immediately reaches into a basket and offers him a little seed pod. The baby sticks it into his mouth and sucks on it, eyes closing sleepily. Is this the jungle version of a pacifier? K’thar offers me one and I take it, because I’m curious. The inside tastes a bit sweet and milky, and it makes my stomach growl.
I’m starving, and I’m just now realizing that I haven’t eaten anything since I was on the icy shore with the others this morning. It feels like a lifetime since that happened, but it’s been less than a day. Jeez.
Less than a day and everything in my world has gone upside down.
Again.
With the baby tucked under one arm, K’thar gets to his feet and moves toward one of the baskets stacked near the hollowed-out bole of the tree. He digs through the baskets, finds the one he wants, and then offers it to me. I take it and peer inside. There are several fist-sized brown nuts of some kind, and K’thar takes one and cracks it open with his teeth, then offers it to me. Inside, the meat is soft and when I dip a finger into it, I realize it tastes like peanut butter.
Amazing.
I pig out on nuts as he rocks the baby to sleep, and by the time Z’hren is passed out, my stomach’s full and I’m licking the last of nut butter off of my fingers, content. I’m given a pod filled with cool water and I drink it down while K’thar gets to his feet and sets the sleeping baby down in a basket lined with plant leaves and fluff. It’s wedged in a hollow between two branches, and he tests it to make sure that it’s safe before settling Z’hren in. I want to protest that a basket in the trees is not the safest spot for a baby, but who am I to judge? I’m sitting on a woven platform, after all. I don’t know this place like they do, or I’d have dressed a little better for the occasion. I pluck at the heavy leather leggings and my top. I’m grateful to be covered, but with the steamy heat of the jungle, I feel completely slick with heat and the leather isn’t helping.
K’thar returns to my side and puts a hand to his mouth, indicating that I should be quiet so as not to wake the baby. I nod.
Of course, then the man pulls out a knife and sits down next to me. “Um,” I breathe, doing my best to keep my voice down. “What exactly are we doing with that thing?”
He reaches for my leggings and angles the knife as if he’s going to cut.
I slap his hand. “No,” I whisper. “Bad idea. I need pants. Just because you’re naked doesn’t mean I want to be.” Well, he’s not completely naked. He’s wearing a leaf thong of some kind. I always thought something like that would look ridiculous, but he’s so big and brawny that he works it really, really well.
“L’ren,” he says, and there’s patience in his voice.
“K’thar,” I say back, mimicking his patient tone. “No.”
He gives me a low growl as if telling me to stop it, and reaches for my pants leg again. When I slap at his hand once more, he snags it in his grip and then uses another hand to continue cutting. Well, fuck. You can’t get into a slap-fight with a four-armed guy. I squirm, quietly protesting as he continues to cut up the leg of my pants, destroying hand-stitched leather seams. “Seriously? What are you doing?” I hiss at him. “I don’t want to be naked.”
The big alien ignores my angry words and continues to massacre my pants. He stops close to my waist, and a lot of my panic subsides when he does. At least he’s not stripping me naked. When he begins to cut across, I realize he’s making me shorts instead of pants. Oh. Well, that makes sense. My skin immediately feels cooler and I breathe a deep sigh of relief when the heavy, sweaty leather falls away. Definitely much nicer.
K’thar pats my knee when he’s done and releases my hands. “I know,” I tell him. “Thank you. That was thoughtful of you.” All communication issues aside, he’s trying to help me. And he’s right about the shorts being a lot cooler. They’re cut to the top of my thigh, and while I’m not really into the whole “booty short” look, it’s not like there’s fashion police on this island. No one can see my cellulite but him and his buddy and the baby. I guess that’s okay.
And Marisol, if we ever find her. God. I feel overwhelmed instantly. Have I abandoned her? Is she gone? Could I have done more to try and find her? I press my hands to my forehead, frustrated to tears. I’m so tired and I feel like I’ve failed her.
“L’ren?” K’thar touches my arm, stroking it gently.
I lift my head to look over at him. His khui-bright eyes glow in the darkness, and other than the glowing moss, it’s the only light in the very dark jungle. I can’t look for her tonight, no matter how much I might want to.
Tomorrow, then. I still feel like the world’s worst jerk, but even I know it’s not smart to wander down there at night, not with all the weird noises starting to surface in the jungle below.
“I’m okay,” I whisper to him. “Just a little overwhelmed.”
Wordlessly, he hands me the long lengths of leather he’s cut off of my pants and gestures at my top. Right. I can make a top out of all this leather. I’ll do that tomorrow.
I nod again. “Thank you.”
He grunts acknowledgment of my words and then gestures, indicating I should wait here, and walks to the edge of the platform. I’m not entirely surprised when he leaps off, because that seems typical of him. I don’t know where he’s going, though. He returns a brief moment later with armfuls
of long, leafy fronds and then begins to stack them neatly, making a bed. Ah. Well, that makes sense, too. Even though the inside of the tree looks like it’s got several hollowed-out ledges and cubbies that would probably make good “nests,” it’s too hot to sleep inside. Out here at least there’s a breeze.
He settles onto the leaves and then lies down, propping up on an elbow and watching me expectantly.
Okay, so what am I supposed to do? Make my own bed? I hesitate, then shrug. When in Rome and all that. I turn and before I can step away, he grabs my ankle and shakes his head, indicating I should lie down with him.
Ah.
So he made a bed for both of us. “Gee, you shouldn’t have,” I murmur dryly. Part of me likes the idea, because while this platform is a good size, it’s also not so big that I’m not in danger of rolling off the side in my sleep. At the same time…my cootie’s going crazy. I know if I lie down with him, he’s going to assume I want to have sex with him. And while my body might be screaming yes, my head is firmly in the “no” camp right now. I barely know the guy. I’m not ready to jump that far ahead just yet.
Even just thinking about sex makes my cootie purr even faster, though. It’s so loud that I know he can hear it, and I can hear his responding. Gosh, this is awkward.
“L’ren.” He pats the bed again.
I don’t know what to do. Of course, my mind is spinning a mile a minute. What happens if I don’t lie down with him? Is he going to drag me there and force me to sleep with him? Then again, what’s to stop him from bearing me to the ground and having his way with me anyhow? He’s much, much stronger than me and the fight over my leggings showed me I don’t have a chance of standing up to him if he wanted to push things. I shiver at the thought, worried.
He tilts his head, watching me, and the expression on his face isn’t a cruel one, or a frightening one. He looks a little tired—like me—and a little frustrated. Again, like me. I’m going to have to trust at some point, I guess. After another moment of hesitation, I move closer and lie down next to him. Not super close, of course. I leave at least a foot between us and keep to the edge of the leaves. Hopefully that will give him the hint.