Errol led her to the western edge of the market. It was the quieter, safer quadrant, with better lodgings—as far as possible from the Eastern end where sentient chattel changed hands. The thought of it burned at his conscience, but he knew there was nothing he could do. Busting the human markets in Daalinalikiniri-din-kaal was an eventual stage in Enforcement’s plan, but for now, the markets needed to remain. The cartel must be allowed to grow complacent while Errol and his comrades rooted out the head of the snake and severed it for good.
They continued to wander. Hadiza stopped and marveled over simple things like Diranian pairing crystals and Eklian moon kettles, but walked carelessly past priceless Honkiri tuning cubes and ultra-rare Peshkine meteorites. She staggered when two Ljark males passed by, twisting to watch them go. The Ljark were nearly as tall as Scaevens, but significantly less muscled and covered with fine, interlocking scales. Their scales could be beautifully patterned, but the two males who passed were a subdued dun color.
The Ljark forbid human contact too, he remembered. She’s never seen one of them before.
They found a shop that sold Scaeven-sized clothing. Hadiza trailed along behind Errol as he selected a pragmatic range of garments. No cropped shirts or flowered brocade in his wardrobe.
Back on the street, Hadiza’s hunger was getting the best of her. Errol stopped at a variety of food stands, and bought orders of several different things—rolled rheichmi, lamm cakes, kurikiliiti balls, fried devnesh, porrit in beral sauce. She couldn’t eat in public, as it would require lowering her scarf, so Errol ordered everything with covers and stacked the containers precariously in his bag of clothing.
“Ready to eat?” he asked as he placed the porrit in his bag.
Hadiza sighed. “I’m starving but I’m not ready to go back to that depressing room,” she said.
“We’ll find different rooms. I don’t like being so close to the docks, anyway.”
He led Hadiza further to the west until the chaos of the market receded and they found themselves wandering a small residential area. They walked down a quiet lane towards a row of modest lodgings and moved down a row of doors until they found one with the circular white symbol that signified an unoccupied room. Errol swiped his currency marker over the receiver, and the door unlocked, allowing them inside.
The walls were blue glass tile, the floor smooth black concrete. A large window overlooked the roofs of the city. On the opposite wall, a Bijari-style heating element—a series of embossed and vented brass pipes carrying hot air—warmed the room. The beds, also in the Bijari style, were circular, concave frames, suspended from the ceiling and heaped with pillows and blankets in shades of gold and black and indigo.
“Oh, yes, this is much better,” Hadiza said. She pulled the scarf from her head, revealing her lovely face. Her big eyes were alight with the excitement of the market. She reached back and pulled the silk tie from her hair. The braid unraveled itself and she speared her fingers into the demesne of her curling, midnight hair. She sighed in relief as she massaged her scalp, fluffing her hair back into a torrid halo.
Errol turned sharply away from her, gripping the edge of the table as he struggled to get ahold of himself.
“So, what are we eating?” Hadiza’s voice approached from behind. “Actually—no. Don’t tell me. I used to love Ravanoth breknor until I found out what it was made of.”
Holding his breath, he pulled out the containers of food and set them on the low table beneath the window. After a moment, he felt steadier, if not totally stable. He watched out of the corner of his eye as Hadiza pulled off her mittens and her jacket until she was wearing only the fitted thermal-wool trousers and an oversized green sweater. She knelt on a cushion beside the table and began pulling lids off the food. Steam puffed into the air with each one.
“This smells delicious,” she said, inhaling deeply over the devnesh.
Errol sat across from her, slipping the inhibitor-soaked mask back on. The earlier ease of the afternoon was making him tense. He couldn’t allow himself to relax around her. He’d indulged the pathetic, emotional side of himself far too much.
Hadiza’s voice broke into his brooding. “Are you going to eat?”
He looked over and found her staring at him. When he’d first taken her off the traffickers’ ship, she’d accepted his help, but regarded him with a measure of fear in her eyes. There was none of that now. She met his gaze steadily—warmly, even. He could drown in those big, dark eyes.
“I’ll eat after you’ve had your fill,” he said.
“I won’t be able to eat even a third of this.”
He shrugged and reached over to take a rheichmi roll. He unhooked the mask from only one ear, letting it dangle so that the scent of the inhibitor would still interfere with Hadiza’s scent.
Hadiza made a face and spit out the lamm cake she’d just bitten into. “Sorry,” she said. “That was… I’m not sure I’ve ever tasted something like that.”
“I don’t like them either. I didn’t know what you would like.”
A tense silence descended. She glanced at him uncertainly, picking up on his unease.
“So,” she said, too brightly. “After you get the ship up and running, what happens next? You go get your Enforcement buddies and take down the traffickers?”
Errol chewed the rheichmi long past palatability. He cast about for the words that would make her understand why he had to do what he was doing. After a long stretch of failing to think of anything, he gave up. It was probably for the best if he made her angry. It would restore the distance between them. He might not bring the fear back to her eyes, but he could replace it with disgust.
Errol sat across from her, looking as if he were facing down a firing squad.
It was probably for the best that he had no recollection of the night before. For one thing, they didn’t have to have the supremely awkward conversation where he assured her it was only the influence of her pheromones, that he didn’t really want her like that—and she didn’t have to pretend to be relieved to hear it.
But, instead of embarrassment, she found herself wading through increasing self-loathing. Errol had been in absolutely no state for the things they’d done. She didn’t like to think she was the sort of person who took advantage, but the fact was, if he hadn’t passed out, she’d be staring across the table at somebody she’d fucked while he was blacked out.
But she hadn’t done it. So she looked into his eyes with a perfectly neutral expression while he struggled to tolerate her very presence.
“No. We won’t be going after that particular ship.”
Hadiza paused with a kurikiliiti ball halfway to her mouth. “You’re just going to abandon them?”
Errol heaved a sigh. “It’s part of a larger strategy.”
“To leave a bunch of slaves with their captors? Are you serious?” The ghost of an incredulous smile hovered on her lips. He had to be joking.
“We can’t move in on any of the individual couriers until we’ve identified the power structure within the cartel. If we move in too soon, they’ll just disappear and regroup, this time with more awareness and experience. If that happens, more and more human women will continue to be abducted and sold.”
Hadiza tried to see it from his point of view. “Then what will happen with the captives when you finally catch the head of cartel?”
“When the operation is complete, the unmated humans will be returned to human territory.”
“What about the mated ones?”
“Scaeven law will not do anything to interfere with a matebond.”
Disbelief warred with anger. She dropped the food in her hand. “These women were abducted! Toxin or no toxin, they were raped. And you’re just going to leave them with their rapists?”
He was quiet for a second. “Yes,” he said flatly.
Hadiza shoved away from the table. “That makes you just as much a monster as the rest of them! A disgusting, enabling—”
“A mate me
ans there’s a child, Hadiza. I’m not going to separate a mother from her son, and I’m not going to send a Scaeven child to the undeveloped wilds of human territory. Scaevos is safer, more advanced, and populated by the child’s own race. It’s the best choice in a bad situation.”
“The best choice? To have a child raised by the kind of father who thinks it’s okay to buy a person? To be raised by his mother’s rapist?”
Errol’s expression hardened as he leaned across the table furiously. “Scaeven fathers are fiercely protective, devoted, loving guardians. They bond to their sons as strongly as they do to their mates. It’s mothers who abuse their children!” He spit the last sentence out with a vicious snarl that seemed to surprise even himself. He sat back, quickly blanking his expression to a stoic mask.
But Hadiza had seen it—the long-buried hurt of a damaged child. She swallowed her vicious rebuttal. For a moment, she was quiet, simply regarding him.
He scowled at her. “Spare me your pity, human. I’m still a monster.”
So she was back to “human.” She turned away from him and stared out the window at the city.
A long silence passed between them. She could feel his gaze on her, those beautiful amber eyes with their intimidating catlike irises, boring into her as hot as a brand.
Without looking at him, she said, “I don’t think you’re a monster.”
“I am.”
When the last of the daylight faded, Hadiza took her bag of clothing and went to the lav to change into a soft blue tunic for sleeping. As she pawed through the bag, looking for the little bottle of Bijari mouth rinse, her fingers brushed a small wrapped package. She plucked it up, frowning. She had only gotten clothing and a few basic toiletries today.
She unwrapped the package and found herself holding two of the beautiful Diranian pairing crystals. One was a pale lavender color, the other cornflower blue. As they warmed against her skin, a soft glow lit within the both of them. Hadiza sat for a long time, staring at them.
Errol.
When he’d seen her staring at the crystals, he told her she was attracted to shiny garbage like a toola bird. But when she hadn’t been paying attention, he’d bought that shiny garbage for her.
She set the blue crystal on the edge of the cracked sink basin and the lavender one beside her on the edge of the bathtub. She touched the tip of the lavender one and watched as the heat of her body warmed the crystal and made it glow. A few seconds later, the blue one began to glow as well. The Yiruba seller had assured her they’d do the same even if they were sent to opposite ends of the universe.
She rewrapped the crystals with tender care, and tucked them back in her bag. When she emerged from the lav, Errol was still sitting beside the table, his gaze turned inward as he picked idly at the remaining food. He looked up as she sat on the edge of the table directly beside him. Vivid amber eyes met hers.
“Thank you,” she said softly. “For the crystals.”
He didn’t say anything. His gaze continued to bore into hers, something unreadable and uncertain shining in their depths.
There was so little space between them. She was tempted to close it with a kiss. A chaste, sweet, thank you kiss on the steep, hard plane of his cheek.
Except that, for a labor class Kepleran girl, there was no such thing as a chaste kiss. And she knew he didn’t like her nearness—hated the way his body reacted to her. So she didn’t infringe. It would be a poor way of thanking him, satisfying her own impulses rather than respecting his boundaries. Instead, she had to express her gratitude through the flimsy inadequacy of words.
“I wish I could give you something,” she said. “You’ve taken care of me in every way. I wish I could do the same for you.”
Errol closed his eyes and turned away from her. He faced the window, looking out on the violently colorful lights of the night market. “You owe me nothing.”
Hadiza followed his gaze to window. She could see the reflection of his face in the glass, all steep angles and hard lines. “It’s not about debt, Errol. It’s about friendship.”
He let out a mirthless laugh. “Friendship. I’m not your friend, human.”
“You know my name is Hadiza. I’ve heard you say it.”
“Hadiza, then.”
“We’re not friends? Am I just a job to you?” She couldn’t be. She thought of the crystals tucked away in her bag, and she knew that she wasn’t deluding herself. He felt at least some kind of minor affection for her.
He turned back to her with a sharp movement. “No, you are not just a job,” he snapped. “You are a torment. You are a punishing judgement sent to rob me of my sense and cure me of my pride.”
Hadiza balked at his anger. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about the fact that I’ve been within the barest edge of losing control of myself, of shaming myself by taking you—”
Hadiza pushed off the table, backing away from him. “I thought you didn’t remember.”
A taut, heavy silence descended. Errol was a statue. A cold, inhuman, vulpine-eyed statue. At long last, he spoke, his voice a strained rasp. “Remember what, Hadiza?”
She hesitated, continuing to back away. “I don’t…”
“Yesterday?” he demanded hoarsely, rising to his feet. “When I came back? You said nothing happened. You said I didn’t hurt you.”
“Nothing did happen. You didn’t hurt me.” She backed into one of the hanging beds.
“Hadiza.” Errol closed the space between them, gripping the bedframe on either side of her. She was trapped between the bed and his big body. “What happened?”
Her face burned with shame. Her throat tightened so that she couldn’t speak. It took several swallows before she managed to rasp, “I… touched you.”
He became a statue again, so still he didn’t seem real. “You what?”
“I touched you. And I kissed you. I didn’t know you were so… out of it. I wouldn’t have done it if I’d known.”
Suddenly he was the one backing away. He crossed the room until his shoulders hit the wall. He stared at her with wild-eyed bewilderment. “You kissed me? Why?”
She couldn’t meet his gaze—couldn’t stand to see either the fury or the revulsion—but she owed him the truth after what she’d done to him. “Because I wanted to. Because you’re big and strong and—” her voice broke. She hauled in a ragged breath. “I’m sorry.”
The distance between them was not enough. She wanted to open the door and disappear into the freezing cold night.
“Did the kiss intoxicate you?” Errol asked, his voice like a frayed rope.
Tears threatened. She was too old to cry, but she’d never felt so ashamed. “Yes.”
“Did we…” Errol let out a shattered breath. “Did I—”
“No. You passed out.”
“But you were intoxicated. What did you—”
“I filled the tub with ice cold water and sat in it until my bones ached and the toxin was out of my system.” One hot tear escaped, sliding down her cheek.
“Oh, rourra, no.” Errol came to her, knelt in front of her. “No crying.”
“I’m sorry, Errol.” More tears. More shame. “I’m so, so sorry.”
“No apologies,” he said gruffly, swiping his thumbs over her cheeks. “No tears. Stop right now.”
She choked on a pained laugh. “They don’t just turn off.” She brought her hands up to her face, pressed the heels of her hands against her closed eyes until she saw fireworks.
Errol’s hands closed on her wrists, pulling her hands away. “Look at me, rourra.”
She kept her eyes shut. “I can’t.”
“Please.”
She let out a heavy, self-loathing sigh. After a second, she managed to open her eyes and meet his gaze. What she saw in his face wasn’t anger or disgust. He watched her with a raw intensity that reflected the way she felt when he touched her, when he stood too near her, when he gave her presents even if he thought they were silly
.
He dropped her wrists and cupped her face, stroking his thumbs over the tear tracks still drying on her cheeks. His vivid amber gaze bored into hers. “Do you still want to touch me? Even without the toxin?”
Her face flushed hot again. “Yes.”
His eyes fell shut, as if he were in pain. “I want, more than anything, to indulge that.” His eyes opened, and he pinned her with the intensity of his gaze. “But I am always on edge with you. I don’t know if I can control myself. And if I intoxicated you—when I’m not out of my head on naptala, and teetering on the edge of the sleep phase—I wouldn’t be able to stop myself from taking all of you. Everything.”
Hadiza’s breath caught. “Maybe I wouldn’t…”
The raw intensity in his gaze sharpened to a feral hunger.
She licked her lips. “Maybe I wouldn’t want you to stop. Maybe I don’t.”
He let his hands fall from her face.“You don’t know what you’re offering. If you were to fall pregnant… I’d take you back to Scaevos. You’d never return to human territory. It’d be the same fate you just escaped.”
Would it, though? Despite the fact that he could be a sarcastic ass, he was honorable and good. He had never hurt her, never frightened her, never been rough or cruel with her. Staying with Errol would be easy. He was kind and he made her feel safe. He was beautiful, in his austere, alien way. She wanted him, wanted to know his body, and give hers over to him. And she was so tired of swimming upstream just to survive. She longed for an easy choice.
But he wasn’t asking her to stay with him. He was warning her away. He’d made it clear that his attraction to her went beyond just pheromones, but that didn’t mean he wanted to be tied to her for life.
“So… what do we do, then?” Hadiza asked.
He stood up, put some distance between them, pulling the mask back over his face. “I’ll keep my hands off of you. I’ll keep my head clear. When the differential is ready, we’ll leave this planet, and I’ll return you, safe and untouched, to your people.”
I have no people. But she simply nodded.
Errol turned away from her. “I’m going back into the market to check on the differential. If it’s not ready now, it will be soon.”
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