by Dixon, Ruby
We both eat for a few quiet minutes, and then I glance over at him. He seems…nervous.
That makes ME nervous. “Is something wrong?”
Nassakth hesitates, then puts his wine aside. “I thought we could get to know each other over dinner,” he admits. “Speak of our pasts so we could learn what the other had gone through and understand one another. It would be good to give ourselves a place to start from and to go forward from there. But now I think perhaps that is not a wise idea.”
“I think it makes sense.”
His mouth flattens, and I can’t help but notice that he’s got the same “split” to his mouth that a house cat does, leading right to his prominent nose. Unlike a house cat, though, he doesn’t have whiskers, and his teeth are far larger than any house cat’s teeth. “I do not like the idea, Kim,” he admits after a moment. “Not after seeing the distress you were in earlier. I would not put you through that again simply to ease my own mind.”
“I appreciate that, but I really do think it’s important for us to acknowledge where we came from so we can move forward together. Even if it’s hard for us to talk about.” I shrug. “You were a slave. I was a slave. It’s not like we’ve lived untroubled lives. We need to understand one another or we might never learn to trust.” I know I’ll be able to trust him more if I know exactly who and what I’m dealing with.
Plus, I’m really curious about his past.
He sighs heavily, gazing at his wine goblet as if he wants to chug it rather than deal with this conversation. “My past is not a pretty one.”
“You think mine is? I don’t expect you to have a pretty past, Nassakth. But I need to know it before we can move forward as a couple.”
As a couple. Jesus, why did I say that? This is a marriage in name only, no matter the big pizza bed or how tenderly he takes care of me.
Or how much wine I drink. I take another sip, just because.
The whole “move forward as a couple” thing seems to do the trick, though. Nassakth nods. “Very well. Let us speak of my past.”
And he takes another huge gulp of wine to bolster himself.
21
NASSAKTH
I hate that I must tell Kim my past. I wanted to protect her from it, to parcel it out in small dribbles so it does not seem quite so…bloodthirsty. Humans are different than most races in the galaxy, I know. They do not have battles to the death. They do not encourage slavery as a way to toughen the race and cull the weak. I do not know if she will understand where I come from.
But I must try to explain it anyhow.
I take a large swig of the expensive wine and begin. “My parents come from a very poor sector of Praxii, with no family name or battle honors to distinguish them. I am the third son, and small as a youth, so when I came of age at fifteen, I was honorably sold into slavery.”
Kim sputters and chokes on her wine. She coughs into her hand, then gives me an incredulous look. “You what? Your parents sold you?”
I nod. “It is an honored tradition amongst the praxiian race. A first son is for the glory of the family name…which we did not have. A second son is for the military so he can bring honor to his people. And a third son is usually sold away. Third sons are not needed. They are just another mouth to feed, and as a smaller boy, I was considered unworthy…so slavery it was.” I shrug. I have no bitterness over it. That is how it is in praxiian culture.
Kim gapes at me. “That is awful. Just because you were small?”
“Many reasons. The credits given to my family feed my brothers and sisters, my parents, and any aunts and uncles with no young of their own. And if I died in slavery, then it is considered beneficial for our race to have the weakest culled. If I fought and grew famous, then I would bring honor to my family and much wealth. It is a situation where all sides win.”
“All sides win except you!” She’s incredulous. “They just ABANDONED you.”
“In their eyes, I was not worth keeping.” Perhaps I am a little bitter about it. “I was sold to a slavemaster on Askorthi Prime who made it his goal to bulk me up. I had height, but not much more, so I trained for several years under him and some of the most brutal fighters, learning speed and agility as well as how to fight. Even so, I knew I would not be successful unless I had a way to stand out. Amongst praxiians, I am not an imposing figure, and gladiator arenas have a short attention span for their favorites. So I knew I needed something that would make me stand out.”
Kim’s eyes are huge as she watches me. “What did you do?”
I take another gulp of wine. “In my first fight, I ripped out the throat of my opponent with my teeth and then dismembered him and flung the parts into the audience.”
Her jaw drops.
“He was not a good man. He was an older fighter, and a cruel one. I had heard stories of things he had done to other fighters in the stable in the past, but it does not excuse what I did.” I shrug. “The audience loved it, so I built a career upon brutality. I became very famous and my owner became wealthy because of me.” I stare at my wine goblet. “That is why I did not wish for you to look at the matches in my War Room. I am proud of them, but I think they would be terrifying for someone as gentle as you.”
“Oh.”
She says nothing else, and I feel as if I am frightening her, so I sum the rest of it up quickly. “I was a slave in my master’s pen for many, many years. He did not share his wealth with me as most do, and I watched him put down many of his slaves as they aged out instead of setting them free. It was cheaper that way, you see. So I worried it would be my turn soon…”
Do I tell her that I killed him? Choked the life out of him and took great pleasure in doing so to the man that treated me as less than a pet canine for all my life? Who stole any winnings I might have used to buy my freedom and gave me nothing but a plant?
I take the coward’s way out and lie to her. “Luckily for me he died. I stole a large chunk of his wealth and retreated to this world, and have been here for…” I tilt my head. “Seven years.”
“Oh,” she says again, and her fork moves in her plate, picking at her food but not eating. “Are you…a violent type by nature?” Kim is very pale.
“Praxiians are brutal as a race, but I did what I had to do in order to survive. I do not regret it, or I would have been the one slain in the arena.” I force myself to sound hard, uncaring, though I secretly worry this will turn her against me. That she will look upon me with fear again. “But I have never turned my hand to a female, and I would never harm you, Kim. This I vow.”
She nods slowly and then gives me a small smile. “Thank you for telling me. That must have been difficult for you.”
“It is strange,” I admit, watching her. “If I was amongst other males—especially those of my kind—I would probably brag about my past glories. It shows that I am strong, that I am not worthless, and that I brought much honor to my family name after all.” I get the wine and refill her glass, noticing with relief that she does not flinch away when I move toward her. “But I know humans are different, and so I worry about sharing such things with you.”
“I’m glad you told me.” She nods, and I am not sure if her nod is for herself or for me. “I would rather know your past than find it out from a stranger.”
I feel a surge of guilt. I have not been completely honest with Kim. Perhaps…
“I know my people are different than yours,” she offers with a small smile. “Thank you for trying to be understanding of how I feel. I really do appreciate your thoughtfulness…and I suppose I should tell you my story.”
I refill my wine. There will be time to tell her more later. “I would like to know, if you are ready to speak.”
22
NASSAKTH
Kim stares at her plate as she speaks. She pushes a bit of greens around with her fork, but makes no attempt at eating. I feel a prickle of shame that she is so uncomfortable. Learning about her can wait for another time, and I open my mouth to say so when she finall
y speaks.
“I was a kindergarten teacher back on Earth.” She smiles up at me and then quickly explains that she was a tutor to classes of cubs around the age of five, when they are bright-eyed and eager to learn. “I just…really like children, so I thought it would be the perfect job, you know? Get to work with all those little minds, help shape them into being the best people they can be.”
I nod. “You would be excellent at such a thing, I can tell.”
Her cheeks flush with pleasure and she gives me a tiny smile that I treasure. “It was a great job. I was a teacher for…six years, I think. No wait, maybe it was seven.” She grows thoughtful, and then shrugs. “Doesn’t matter. One night I woke up and I thought I was having a bad dream about aliens—little green men probing me and all that. But then I just…never woke up. It just kept going on and on.” She grimaces. “My memories aren’t good of that time. They’re all blurry. I think they pumped a lot of drugs into my system.”
I imagine they did. To them, she would be nothing more than an animal to be kept subdued and sold off as quickly as possible for as many credits as possible.
“I learned from some of the other captive women that there’s apparently a big demand for human females out in the galaxy. We’re moldable and soft and weak.” Her jaw hardens. “I wasn’t kept with the others for long. Maybe a few weeks. Then I was taken to a pleasure satellite and put on the auction block. And…sold.”
Her mouth flattens.
“You do not need to speak of it,” I say gently. I can imagine the Lrulti was not a pleasant master to serve. Most aren’t. “Not every memory deserves to be relived.”
She nods, her expression distant. “I think eventually he got tired of me. I’m getting old for a human, you know? And I didn’t kiss ass. After a while I just got tired of it all and I didn’t care if he killed me or not. I was just done. He put me up for sale, along with a few other slaves he’d grown tired of. Lord va’Rin showed up and bought all of us, and brought us here and freed us.” She gestures at our surroundings. “He gave us farms and set us up to have a life out here, since we’re not allowed to go back to Earth. It’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me.” Her smile brightens. “And I’ve been here on Risda for about eight months now, I think.”
I do not think it was the nicest thing anyone has done for her. If it was truly nice, she would have better equipment, and a better plot of land, but I do not say these things aloud. I know most in the galaxy think Lord va’Rin is mad for giving humans any sort of freedom. “I am glad that you are here,” I tell her gravely. “And that you have shared your past with me.”
Kim lets out a little breath and straightens her shoulders. “Yes. Well, that’s done. We should talk of happier things. How do you normally spend your evenings?”
“Exercising.”
Her small nose wrinkles. “Really?”
I chuckle at her expression. “Exercise is good for many things. It calms my mind. I enjoy the routine. And it keeps me strong should I ever have to defend my home and my family.”
“I’m not a big fan of exercise,” Kim admits. “I spend most of my evenings writing or cleaning house, and the writing I do so I can bring a little pleasure to the other girls stranded out here.”
“You have a kind heart.”
“Or a bored one. Don’t you ever get bored?” She gazes at me with such a curious look.
I do not point out to her that whenever I was “bored” I would go into town, hoping for a glimpse of her. That I learned what I could of humans and their anatomy so I could bring her pleasure when she became my mate. “I am rarely bored, no.”
“Do you have any hobbies?”
“Hob-bees?”
“Things you do for fun?”
I grin. “Exercise?”
She gives a little snort. “We are going to have to teach you how to have fun, Nassakth.”
“I am game. You may teach me anything you like, Kim.”
Her gaze slides to my mouth, and I think for a moment that she is going to give me one of those human mouth-tastings called a “kiss.” I watched many, MANY vids about kissing, each one more fascinating than the last.
I hunger for that more than anything. My fur prickles with awareness, and I want nothing more than to pull her into my lap and let her taste me.
Kim thinks for a moment, and then brightens. “I know! We can play Slapjack. It’s a card game. I made myself a deck to play Solitaire, but I can make a deck here if you have paper or blank cards of any kind.”
Her face is so full of enthusiasm that in this moment, I want nothing more than to Slapjack with her…
Well, I perhaps want a mouth-tasting more. But I will settle for Slapjack. “Let us see what we can find, then.”
23
KIM
We manage to find thick, stiff plas-film sheets similar to cardstock, and I drink wine and explain the game to Nassakth as I make the cards. I love a lot of card games, but Slapjack seems to be the easiest for someone that’s never experienced card games before. My students used to love it though they always tended to slap a little too hard.
“I know how to play sticks,” Nassakth tells me, refilling his wine goblet as he watches me prepare the cards. “Is this similar in strategy play?”
“Nope,” I say cheerfully. “This just involves slapping. Maybe we can learn other card games later on.”
“Are there many?”
For some reason, that strikes me as funny. “Lots and lots.”
“Then you will have to teach me all of them.”
He says it in such a husky, low voice that I have to drink more wine to hide my blush.
I show him the cards once I’m done, explaining the difference between “face” cards and the numbered ones. When I explain that the entire rule of the game is to hit jacks and only jacks, he frowns. “Why do you not make them all a jack, then?”
“Because that’s not how a deck of cards works.”
Nassakth snorts, as if this is ridiculous, but he takes the cards I hand him and we begin to play. It takes a few rounds for him to catch on, and then we compete in earnest as we drink more wine. I chortle with glee when I manage to win a particularly large stack of cards, and he lets out a grunt of pleasure when I promptly lose an equally sized stack of cards to him. The game goes back and forth, and I end up smacking his hand as often as he smacks mine.
We run out of wine, and after I win the first round, Nassakth shakes his head. “Play again. I cannot be defeated. Let us play again.”
“Competitive, are we?” I tease as I shuffle the cards.
“Of course. I like to win.” He gives me a challenging look. “Now that I have learned how you play, I can stop letting you beat me.”
“Oh please.” I deal cards, and we each pick up our stacks.
One of the first cards to land on the table is a jack, and I immediately smack it. Nassakth’s hand lands over mine, and he arches a furry brow at me, his hand keeping mine pinned. “Are you sure you do not cheat, Kim?”
“What, just because you suck at this game?” The wine has loosened my tongue, and I smirk at him. “Maybe you just don’t like being bested by a puny-ass human, huh?”
“I am certain that is part of it,” he grumbles. He releases my hand, his fingers stroking over my skin in an almost-caress. “Very well, then. Take your foul winnings. I will not let such a thing happen again.”
I gather up the cards, giggling, and as I do, I realize I am hella drunk. I’m having too good of a time to care, though. The wine makes me feel good, I’m safe for the first time in what feels like forever, and I’m playing cards with a friend.
Totally don’t hate it.
We play another round, and I win the stack again, his hand landing over mine a split second too late once more. Just like last time, his hand lingers over mine. And it happens again. And again.
After the fourth time, I give him a suspicious look. “Are you losing deliberately just so you can touch me?”
“
I would never.” He huffs, but his neck-mane doesn’t puff up like it does when he’s truly irritated.
I just roll my eyes. “You’re a bad liar.”
“And you are very drunk.”
“Not too drunk to kick your ass at Slapjack!”
He grins, looking feral and strangely attractive. “This is true.”
We play for a while longer, but I fully admit I lose track of time. I talk a ton of shit to Nassakth and laugh far too much. He’s got half a glass of wine left, and I keep trying to drink my empty one, so he switches with me and I finish off his drink. After a while, my eyelids get heavy and my reflexes slow down, and then it’s my hand landing on top of his big one, and I stroke the furry back of it with a yawn.
“Now I officially think I’ve had too much wine,” I announce. I push my chair back and jump to my feet, and immediately wobble.
Nassakth reaches an arm out and catches me, chuckling. “Where are you going?”
“To bed, of course.” It makes perfect sense in my foggy mind, and I peer at my unfamiliar surroundings. Hmm. Lots of green. I squint. “Where is bed again?”
He rumble-purrs with laughter, a sound I like very much. “Come. Let me show you.”
Instead of taking me by the hand, though, he scoops me up into his arms like I’m a bride he’s about to carry over the threshold. The world spins around me, and I close my eyes and bury my face against his furry neck. He’s soft and touchable, and I decide I like his mane. It reminds me of a lion, but like…cuddlier. “Nice kitty,” I whisper, petting him.
Nassakth just sighs. “Very, very drunk. I must be more careful giving my little human wine.”
“But it was soooo yummy.” I’m not even mad.
He carries me through the house and I vaguely recognize the room he stops in. “Oh right. The pizza bed.”