by Dixon, Ruby
"It knew I wanted you," he tells me confidently. "Why would it not choose you? You are the only one whose scent called to me in this place. I was pleased to hear that I would be given a female, but when I scented you, I knew you were my mate."
Beg pardon? He scented me and that was how he knew? "What do you mean? You told your cootie to pick me?"
"No. I am the same as you—I woke up to find my chest singing its song for you. But when I got here, I found one scent more appealing than any other. I was very curious to find whose it was. And I learned it was yours." He reaches out and traces a claw-tipped finger down my arm. "Does that bother you? That I chose you before the khui did?"
"No? I guess not?" It's a little mind-boggling. "You do know back on Earth I'm not special to anyone, right?"
"Ah, my Veronica," he murmurs, voice low and just a little bit rumbly with the force of his cootie. "You do not have to be special to everyone. Just to me."
It's hard to argue with that.
9
ASHTAR
I am surprised at my female's fear of mating. I could understand it if she had been abused in the past, but for her to just want to take her time because she is not used to the idea seems foreign to me. As a gladiator and a slave, I had to adapt quickly. There was no time for me to adjust to things. I simply learned or died.
Humans are different. I am learning this with every moment that passes. I must take the knowledge I have and discard it, or I will never please my mate. She is starting anew on this planet, and I suppose I must, too.
Ashtar of the Drakoni, Three Time Champion of Praix XXIII must be no more. Ashtar, Veronica's Mate and Protector will be my new title.
I like it.
And when my mate turns in her sleep and moves closer to me, I decide I like this place very much. I put my arms around her and go to sleep.
* * *
The next morning, the ship trudges across the landscape, and the females gather around Liz as she shows them how to sew clothing. I have no wish to learn such things, so I wander the hold restlessly. The other males—the two a'ani and the beast-creature—seem as restless as I am. I challenge one of the a'ani—Vordis—to a sparring match, but the other females are so alarmed that we end it before either of us breaks a sweat.
There is nothing to do but sit. That is one of the things I do not like about this planet so far. It is not a place for warriors. I am useless here. I watch one of the blue males show a female how to lash a head to a spear—such a primitive weapon—and wonder what good a drakoni male will be here.
As if sensing my unhappy thoughts, one of the red a'ani moves to my side. He watches the females closely, saying nothing.
"Which one is your mate?" I ask.
He grunts. "I have my eye on the one with the big belly, but that must be resolved first."
Strange male. He wants something clearly claimed by another. I do not point out how odd this is. Perhaps it is a custom where he comes from. I study him. He is called Thrand, and of the two a'ani, he is the more reserved. "Vordis is your brother, yes?"
Thrand looks over at me. "Brother? In a sense. We are clones, bred for fighting." He rubs his jaw. "I…do not know what good I will be here."
It as if he speaks my thoughts aloud. I nod. "Perhaps they will have war games in their village."
He snorts with derision. "There are not enough people for such things. They are stranded here. They have but one village. My last master had more slaves in his pens than they have people. No one is going to risk their lives in a battle for glory." He crosses his arms over his chest. "Have you told them of your battle form?"
I narrow my eyes at him. "How do you know of this?"
"I fought a drakoni in the arena once. It took sixteen of my brothers to bring him down." His smile is ferocious, feral. "You have a soft spot in your neck when you shift forms, perfect for a dagger."
I say nothing. He is trying to show his prowess. I understand this, especially with females to impress so close nearby. When he keeps watching me, I decide I must say something. I have been waiting for the right moment to tell my mate of such a thing. I do not want her worrying over more things, when she already fills her mind with enough fear. But if I do not speak of it, I do not know that Thrand and his brother-clone will remain silent on such a thing. "I have been waiting for the right moment to speak of it. It is…complicated."
Thrand nods. "I shall say nothing, and I shall share with you a bit of wisdom. Vordis and I have decided that if these spear-carriers try to separate us from the females, we shall break out. There are no collars to keep us here, and we can best any of them in a fight. We would take our females and make our own encampment."
It is not a bad idea. "If you choose to do so, let me know. I might join you."
"Good."
"Which female does Vordis have his eye on?" I ask, curious.
Thrand's expression grows distant. "That is the problem with clones. We think alike." He glances over at me. "We have not yet decided which of us will take the one with the big belly. He wants her, and I do as well."
That is a problem, indeed. "Mine is Veronica. I want no one to touch her."
Thrand bears his teeth in what might be an attempt at a smile. "Everyone knows this. You two kept half the camp awake with your buzzing last night."
"Resonance," I agree, not displeased. "Hopefully it will not be long before she lets me claim her."
"It is your right, is it not?" He shakes his head at me. "Why wait? She has been given to you by your khui. Take what is yours, friend. We will not stand in your way." He looks over, and Vordis is watching us. The other a'ani nods slowly, as if agreeing with Thrand's words.
"Humans are difficult," I tell him. "You will understand that when you try to woo your fat-bellied female. Until then, do not tell me how to woo mine." My mood growing as black as my eyes, I stalk away, only to find I have nowhere to go. I nearly step over the tied-down beast-man and snarl at him when he growls at me.
I am tired of this ship.
I am tired of waiting to be alone with Veronica. The others say we are going to a great salt lake. An ocean, I suspect, though I have never seen one myself. There, I hope we will settle.
Maybe there I will tell Veronica about my battle form and the link my fires will create between us. Perhaps she will find such a thing exciting instead of terrifying.
Perhaps.
Perhaps not.
Perhaps I should wait until we have mated and I have given her my fires before I surprise her with such a thing.
VERONICA
The beach isn't like any beach I have ever seen before.
"Stay away from the water's edge," Vektal says in his people's language, and my newly implanted translator makes it impossibly easy to understand, as easy as if he spoke in English. I'm still getting used to that.
This beach? It's going to be another thing to get used to. Pebbly sand crunches under my leather boots, but that's about the only familiar thing. The waves that crash in as if they're attacking the beach are bottle green, and…things…float in the waves. Something vaguely crablike scuttles along the sand, and the nearby cliffs are jagged and steep, as if they're determined to protect the rest of the world from the horrors of the beach itself.
It's definitely not peaceful. Or warm. Or a place to relax and sip this planet's version of a margarita. "So…this is our home?" I can't hide how horrifying I find the thought.
Vektal glances over at me. "Not for long. We will destroy the ship and then be on our way."
One of the hunters at his side tilts his head at the sky and frowns, as if he disagrees but isn't sure he wants to say anything. Rokan, I think his name is. I'm starting to put faces with names after two long days.
"For tonight, we should stay," one hunter with twisted horns says. He puts a hand protectively on Liz's shoulder. "Everyone is tired, and Mardok wants more time to strip the ship of what he can use."
Vektal grunts, hands on his hips. "We will set up tents on the sand,
along the cliffs to serve as a wind-break. Everyone can have an evening to relax before we head home." He looks cheered at the thought, and so do the other blue guys. I bet they're missing their families something fierce.
It makes me sad. I don't have anyone back home to miss.
I glance over at Ashtar, and he's watching me closely. His eyes are whirling with intensity, and for some reason, this makes my head hurt. I rub the spot between my brows that's aching and gaze out at the unfamiliar ocean. I wish something in this world wasn't so scary. I wish everything didn't terrify the crap out of me. I feel powerless and small and afraid, and it sucks.
As if to emphasize this, two of the blue aliens move past with a snarling, fighting beast-man between them. He looks utterly feral and terribly frightening, and Tia and Steph both cringe away as they get near. Only Willa has a look of intense sympathy on her face. I shudder. If he wasn't tied down…how would he act? How many people would he hurt? Even his features don't look all that human.
Ashtar moves to my side and puts a hand on each of my shoulders. "He will not hurt you," he tells me, then pulls me close.
I let him put his arms around me, even though I probably shouldn't. I shake my head as the beast-alien—Gren—struggles and fights with his captors. "I just don't get him. Maybe he's too beast-like to understand that no one's going to hurt him." I look over at Ashtar. He's different and alien, but he's still attractive. "I'm glad you're not like that."
"Beast-like?" His expression is impossible to read.
I nod. "I think I'd be terrified."
His hands clench on me. "I would let no harm come to you. I promise."
Willa presses her fingers to her mouth, her big eyes sad as she watches the others take Gren away. "I don't think he's trying to hurt us," she says in that soft, Southern voice of hers. "I just think…he doesn't know any other way."
I don't know if she's right or wrong. I just don't want to be there when he breaks free.
* * *
I haven't set a tent up since I was in Girl Scouts, but it looks like my choices for the afternoon are either that or gathering and preparing the crab-scorpion things for dinner. Just the thought of touching one makes my stomach heave, so tents it is. Steph, Bridget, Nadine, Devi, Sam and I listen while Cashol and Ereven show us how to put the tents together. They're made of leather hides stitched together (which is no surprise) and long pieces of bone for the poles (which is a surprise).
I'm pretty terrible at the tent-making, but I give it my best. It makes the afternoon pass quickly enough and it's even a little fun. I glance around from time to time, wincing as I see Callie, Tia, Hannah, Penny and Raven helping Liz with “dinner,” or more specifically, pulling legs off and ripping open shells. Poor Angie sits by the fire and stirs the hanging pouch that acts as a stew-pot, and Lauren's helping dismantle the ship, along with Willa and Marisol. The ship isn't due to be launched into the waves until tomorrow, when everything is ready to go. Because of that, most of the sa-khui guys are out hunting. I want to ask where the food's going if we're having crab things for dinner tonight, but it seems polite not to ask. Everyone stays busy and doesn't ask questions.
Even the new guys have a task. Off on the far end of the beach, I see Ashtar's golden skin gleaming against the dark green of the pebbly sand. He stands to one side, listening intently as a big grumpy alien named Bek shows him how to throw nets into the water for fishing. The two red guys stand nearby listening, too. I think we're all starting to realize that for better or for worse, this is now home…which means we'd better learn how to survive here. My gaze slides back to Ashtar. If it weren't for the golden skin, I would think he was one of the natives here. He dresses like they do already, wearing not much more than a loincloth and a pair of boots. His bronzed back ripples as he tosses the net, showing off that strange scaly pattern that looks more reptilian than it actually feels. His skin is pleasant to touch, and not in the least bit—
"You're staring," Bridget says in a singsong voice at my side.
I jump, nearly dropping the pole in my hands. "I am not!"
"You totally are, and your cootie agrees with me," Bridget announces. "I bet they can hear you halfway across the beach."
Just then, Ashtar turns and glances backward, searching for me. His gaze fixes on me and he gives me a long, warm look that makes my cootie rev even louder. Devi giggles nearby.
"Do not tease her, Bree-shit," Cashol reprimands, moving to our tent. "She cannot help resonance. It will work itself out in time. Concentrate on your work."
"Oh my god, it's Bridget, for the ninetieth time!"
"Over here, Bree-shit," Ereven calls from the far end of the tent. "I need a pair of hands on this side."
Bridget grits her teeth, handing me the pole she's holding. "I think you guys are doing that on purpose." But she follows the sound of Ereven's voice and I look over at Devi, who's trying very hard not to burst into laughter. Poor Bridget. These guys really struggle with a soft G sound for some reason—all of them except the chief—and Bridget has the most unfortunate name for that sort of problem.
"So what's it like?" Devi asks, sidling up to me as she pushes her pole through the leather “sleeve” designed to hold things in place. "The resonance? Do your internal organs feel like they're in a paint shaker? Or is it just like an all-over quaking? Or is it aural only and not physical?"
"Um…it's different. I don't know how to describe it." Or rather, I don't want to describe it. I'm certainly not telling Devi that I feel breathless and aroused oh, all the damn time. That I find myself fighting the urge to rip my clothes off and rub up all over him at any moment. That I keep wondering what it'd be like to have sex with him. All the time.
Literally, I wonder it all the time. Day, night, lunchtime, any time in between. I even think about babies, though I'm not sure I'm mentally ready for that next step in the process yet. I'm still trying to get used to the idea of a big golden alien as my “forever” mate, even if everyone else has already accepted it as fact.
Doesn't mean I have.
I'm not necessarily against Ashtar. I'm not against having a mate. I'm just against it freaking happening all at once mere hours after I land on an alien planet. Is a little time to mentally settle in too much to ask?
I shove my pole into my leather pocket a little harder than I maybe should, and I can hear the seams rip. That sends Cashol running over to my side. "No, Ron-ka. Not like that. Let me show you again."
"Right. Sorry." I try to pay attention.
"Have any of you seen the human Will-uh?" Vektal asks, striding up to our group. He frowns as everyone pauses, and I can see he's mentally going over heads, counting them, looking for Willa's blonde corkscrew curls and freckled face.
"Isn't she helping Mardok and Farli with the ship?" Callie asks.
"I saw her feeding Gren a little while ago," Devi adds with a frown.
Vektal immediately storms off. "Wait here," Cashol says, following behind his chief. We watch them go, exchanging puzzled looks before returning to setting up our tent. I take my time sliding the pole in and start to lace it in place when there's a loud bellow of anger somewhere down on the beach.
Ereven immediately throws his poles down and races forward. Someone grabs my arm and whimpers, and a few of the girls cluster together. "What do we do?" someone whimpers. "What's going on?"
I remain utterly still, terror making my feet feel like lead. Something's wrong. As I watch, blue guys start running up and down the beach. Liz gets to her feet, alarm on her face.
"What is it?" Devi asks. "What's going on?"
I take a step forward, not sure if we should run or hide or what. A golden blur surges up the beach, and I'm relieved to see Ashtar racing toward me. When he gets to my side, he immediately pulls me protectively against him, and I'm so glad he's here. I feel safe with him at my side. I don't even care that my cootie's going wild. I just know he's not going to let anything happen to me.
Ashtar rubs my back, letting me huddle against
him as the other girls crowd close. "Stay near, females," my big golden god says. "I will let no harm come to you."
"Harm? What's going on?"
"Nothing good," he replies, and slides his hand down my back again.
Suddenly I'm having a hard time concentrating on the danger. It's difficult to focus when he touches me like that.
Ereven races back toward our group, spear in hand, shoving a knife into his belt. He nods at Ashtar. "Bring the females close to the fire for safety. We can watch you all easier if you're together."
"What is it?" Steph demands. "What happened?"
Ereven starts to race away again, but not before answering, "Gren is missing."
10
VERONICA
The next few hours are chaos.
Gren is gone from the camp. The ropes binding him have been found utterly chewed through and snapped. One-horned Pashov had been assigned to watch him and was found passed out in the sand, a large wound on his head and a bloody rock nearby. He's all right, though everyone looks worried.
Willa's gone, too. The last time anyone saw her was near Gren, so it's not hard to put two and two together.
Then, the afternoon just gets worse.
There's a low rumbling and it takes everyone a minute to realize that the ship has been launched and is sinking into the waters of the ocean, flames pouring out of it. In the confusion, no one knows who set it off early or why. Mardok is devastated. Harlow, too.
And then we find that both Marisol and Lauren are missing. Marisol and Lauren, who were helping out with the stripping of the ship.
Everyone's numb after that. In one afternoon, we've gone from twenty survivors to sixteen. The cheerful hope we had for our survival has disappeared into a dull sort of misery. We huddle around the fire that night while the sa-khui tribesmen go looking for Willa and Gren, and others comb the beach looking for bodies.