by Milana Jacks
Vice was no different. A caveman with one purpose in mind. The purpose? Breed his mate with beast babies.
A mate.
I cringed at the word and suppressed the memories that threatened to cripple my resolve to live my life. Despite the thoughts threatening to turn me into a worthless piece of shit every time that cursed word “mate” came up, I opened my backpack and dug out my rigger, an inch-wide metal card, kind of like the key I’d stolen, but not translucent. I slid it into the house controller, the remote-control-looking device, which set up the House’s voice commands. The rigger would rig the house tech and make the smart tech listen to me and not the voice of the beast it was programed to hear.
Rig in place, I swiped my finger over the blue button.
“Adjusting voice controls,” the House said through its speakers. This meant the rigger currently worked on the house tech. It would take a minute or two and, since I’d unfortunately had to rig each time I entered and exited the house, I crossed my fingers it would work at all. A minute after, the blue circle on the remote still kept spinning. I left it to work and forced my legs to head for the shower.
“Shower me,” I said and hopped in the bath. Thirty seconds later, the hot water burst all around me. Oh yes. I let the water bathe my face and relax my muscles before I set out to wash my long hair. I needed to dye it soon too. My brown roots showed already. Tomorrow, when I got back, I’d ask Patty to dye it for me. After tomorrow? I bit my lip. Maybe I’d scout Community One. It was far away enough. Eek, I needed better transport. If only I could get my Kickster back, fix the screw…
The first meeting
“The Beasts are here,” my sister Hanna said, one ear pressed on our sanctuary door.
“Yeah?” I put the screwdriver down and leaned my hydro-skater—Kickster—on the chair, then joined her. I peeked through the keyhole.
A beast was a cross between a wolf and a man, with a mane of long coarse hair that looked more like fur than human hair, large claws, and big teeth that, somehow, fit inside their square jaw and didn’t impact their English. Didn’t impact it much. Their pronunciation was still a little funky, though, so when the bigger one of the two beasts said, “We’re looking for a ssskater. Long hair about her assss,” Hanna giggled.
“Shhh. I want to hear.”
“Welcome, Alpha Beast, and…?” my dad asked, extending his hand to the smaller one of the two, which, by the way, meant he wasn’t the size of a double door, maybe only a door and a half. Beast men were built like bulls. Huge.
“Vice,” the beast answered and shook my dad’s hand.
He looked familiar, like I’d seen him somewhere. I tilted my head, thinking. Fresh red scars marred the right side of his handsome face, and a plastic medical cover guarded his right wrist. “I sort of know him,” I said.
Hanna threw her mane of long red hair over her shoulder and whispered, “What have you done now?”
“Skated over Beast City.” Built about one hundred years after the nuclear war that wiped our planet of most humans, Beast City rose above the city our history named the City of Angels. Community Three, where I grew up, was about five hours away, smack in the middle of the Nevada desert.
I pointed at the guy named Vice and snorted. “That one tried to catch me.” There was absolutely nothing to do in the Nevada desert, and I didn’t fit well with the girly girls who picked flowers and crops and served in the kitchens. One, I’d burned down the kitchen when I baked once at fifteen, and two, I preferred to play football with the boys.
Two years ago, if I hadn’t stolen my hydro-skater from some dead guy I’d found by the community gates, I might have died from sheer boredom. Kickster was my lifeline, my ticket for the bucket list of shit I wanted to do.
“And what happened?” Hanna asked.
“I turned like this”—I twisted my lower body—“and skipped the corner. His ass flew right into an office space. Boom. Glass everywhere.”
Hanna gave me a low five. “Dumbass. How’s Beast City?” she asked.
“Oh man, they’ve got everything there. Grass, shops, jeans.”
“Jeans,” my sister repeated and tugged on the pair I wore. “These things?”
“Yup. Stole them from the beach. What kind of an idiot leaves their clothes out in the open, you know? If it were me, I’d bathe in the clothes. That way at least I would also have done the laundry at the same time.”
“I hate doing laundry,” Hanna said.
I nodded. I hated scrubbing the jeans, but oh, they were the best pants I’d ever owned. “Beasts have tech,” I said. “Laundry machines. No scrubbing. You load them dirty and unload them clean.”
Hanna groaned. “I shouldn’t want to go there with one of these ugly things.”
The beasts, she meant. Most of us were taught to hate them. I peeked back through the hole. “Hold that thought,” I said. “They’re handing Dad a bag.” I strained to catch what was inside when Dad opened it and peeked in. Mom’s eyes widened, and she smiled at the Vice guy, then strode toward the sanctuary door.
“Yes!” I said. “He bought me!”
Hanna patted me on the back. “You poor thing.”
“I’m not like the others around here.”
“I know.” Hanna tucked her chin, eyes on the floor, and whispered, “Smile and don’t give yourself away on the first day. Be all…homemade, you know, like a girl.”
“Will do.”
Mom swung open the door, and I stepped out and around her, then walked straight up to the Vice guy. I lifted my chin, my neck nearly snapping from how far it went back only so I could lock my eyes with his red ones. His face was all hard edges, starting from his jaw, and he was a blond to boot. This beast guy was fucking hot, so I gave him my best line. “Hey, sexy beast, wanna take me home?” When he blinked down at me, looking lost, I added, “Dude, did you buy me or not?”
Vice guy looked confused, but then his red eyes paled, became brighter, turned somehow almost faint pink. It reminded me of an albino snake’s eyes. I stepped back to give those crazy eyes and his bulging muscles some room. He grew in size, though not in height, and glared down at me. It made my panties wet. I glared back and waggled my eyebrows. “You like what you see?”
This huge beast of a man was my Prince fucking Charming. He’d take me away from the community and give me an awesome life in the City of Angels, where I could buy all the fucking jeans I wanted with his money. I’d give him beast babies, one, three, or seven if he wanted. However many he wanted.
But he remained silent.
“So you like or what?” I repeated, a little nervous he hadn’t answered me.
“Yeah,” he said, his voice deep and gruff. “I like.”
I put my hand up. “High five, big mofo, high five.”
I lost him again. Right. Beasts didn’t know about high five. I took his huge hand in my left hand and lifted it to my right palm. I slapped our palms together. “High five,” I told him.
His fingers intertwined with mine, and he yanked my hand. My body followed, my breasts hitting just above his middle, and when I oomphed from the impact, his hand landed on my ass and he lifted me up. I held on to his shoulders and wrapped my legs around his waist. He grabbed a fistful of my hair and slammed his mouth on mine, his tongue plundering inside.
Oh hell yes, this beast was soooo made for me. I gave as good as I could, taking clues from his expert tongue, swirling mine against his while our moans filled the silent room. I struggled to breathe, but I didn’t care, because this guy kissed me like he owned me, and I couldn’t wait until he owned my body just like this.
“Excuse us,” my dad interrupted.
Vice slowed down.
I didn’t give rats, so I sucked his tongue, didn’t let go.
The other beast roared with laughter, nearly piercing my eardrums. I winced and released Vice’s tongue, then glanced at my parents, who couldn’t help but give me warning looks.
But fuck if I cared that crawling all over a be
ast guy in front of my parents was frowned upon in our community. The entire place was a big cage if you asked me. And besides, they sold me like they’d sold five of my aunts, so they could watch for all I cared. I bit Vice’s bottom lip and let out a groan when he put me back down.
I swayed on my feet. That was a swoon if ever I recognized one. “Hold on, big man, I gotta get my skater.” I winked at Hanna as I walked back and got Kickster. All set, I returned to Vice’s side and intertwined our fingers. “Bye, ya all!”
I tugged on his hand.
His feet didn’t move.
I looked up to see him lock eyes with the bigger beast. Okay, I could wait a minute. Ten seconds later, I tapped my foot, patience never a virtue of mine. The bigger guy shook his head and said, “She’s a month shy of her nineteenth birthday, and she’s not prepped.”
He spoke to Vice, but I answered with a question anyway. “Is there a problem?”
“Your dad sells pairs of age and prepared. We’ll return when you’re ready,” Vice said.
“Oh hell to the no.” I snapped my fingers. “I’m ready right now.”
He looked back at the big one, who raised an eyebrow in question. My dad cleared his throat. “Dewlyn is eighteen and will take about a month to prepare, just in time for her birthday. We teach our pairs housework, provide examples of tech, and the women in the community speak with the new pairs about sexual intercourse so as to better please you. All my daughters are untouched. Believe me, Dewlyn needs to be prepared. She’s a little on the wild side, but don’t worry, by the time you return for her, she’ll be ready.”
“I’m super ready now. And untouched.” I winked at Vice.
“I’ll teach her how to please me, so don’t worry about that,” Vice said and squeezed my hand. Somehow, I didn’t think it involved a lot of discussion, more like body fluid exchange exercises. A hands-on man. My kind of man. I couldn’t wait.
“You are not ready,” my dad told me. “Our community has an agreement with the beasts. Nineteen years old minimum and one-month preparation. I can’t make exceptions. Think of your younger sisters.” He feared beasts would come after Hanna, who was only seventeen.
Mom hid Hanna in the back, so they couldn’t see her. But I was here. “How hard could it be? I have a hole. He has a rod. He pokes my hole with his rod, and that’s it. Natural, no need to prepare.”
“And housework?” Vice asked with an amused smile. “I could use a nice meal now and then.”
“You don’t want me to cook, man. I promise you. No amount of preparation will make it worth your house. I’ll burn that shit to the ground.”
“Nonsense,” Dad said. “Dewlyn will make a perfect pair. Nice, sweet, and submissive, just like her aunts.”
“I could do that. Is that what you want?” I asked Vice. I would be whatever the hell he wanted if only he’d get me to the City of Angels and out of the community, my cage.
“I want. In the meantime, don’t let me catch you jumping and sliding on the rooftops.”
He tried to move his hand away, but I held firm. “I fly, my man, that’s what I do. And I don’t need another daddy, I need a man. You gonna man up and take me with you, or you gonna let these people tell you what to do? You bought a bride, the bride is willing, so let’s go. Fuck the papers. Fuck the prep. Fuck this shitty-ass community. I’ve seen what’s out there in the world, and I want to live out there.” Most of us humans cooped up in the communities, closed behind our gates, hidden and secluded from the world. Most of us didn’t know anything about anything, and only a few of us ever ventured to Beast City. I ventured and planned to venture some more. With this Vice guy who’d bought me.
The other beast rested his fist on the table and leaned in. This mofo looked mean, but I didn’t flinch. Inches from my face, he said, “You gotta mouth on you, little girl. I don’t like the challenge to my authority or my brother’s. You should listen to your dad and do what you’re told. When you’re ready, Vice will come for you.”
Vice tugged my hand, and I stepped away from the mean mofo.
“Is there anywhere where we can talk in private?” Vice asked my dad.
I ignored them all. “What you ridin’? A bike? You know what, don’t matter, I don’t even need to pack. Let’s go.” I dragged big Vice through our sanctuary, over the gravel yard and right to his bike. I recognized the machine, though I wondered how he’d repaired it already. It’d been only two days since he crashed into a building.
The beasts must have awesome tech, I thought, and ran my hand over the bike’s engine. The metal was smooth and warm from the ride over. I straddled it, put a helmet on my head, and thrust Kickster under my armpit. Maybe I’d get a new skater. Kickster 2.0.
Next to me, Vice looked amused, a smile playing over his lips. The other beast straddled his bike and leaned his elbow on the handle. His lips twitched.
“If she were yours,” Vice said, “don’t tell me you wouldn’t take her and say the hell with the agreement.”
The other beast revved his engine. “Got a firestarter, bro. I’ll see ya, Dewlyn girl.”
I shrugged when he took off. I knew Vice probably thought I was the craziest bitch he’d ever seen, but there must’ve been something about me he liked or else he wouldn’t have spent money on me. These beasts came in and out of the communities, bought themselves nice wives they called pairs, and man, I thought those girls were lucky. Only Hanna would understand. The rest of the women hated the beasts, believed we shouldn’t mix with them. Brainwashed idiots.
Besides, once I left, my dad and mom would have one less mouth to feed, which meant more food for Hanna. We were a family of forty-three. Dad had six wives and many mouths to feed. Finally, I wouldn’t have to ration my dailies. I would gorge on steak and potatoes, chicken wings, and ribs. And this Vice beast. I’d gorge on his big body too.
Or let him gorge on my body. Whatever curled his claws, I’d do it.
His leather-clad thigh pressed against my jeans as he removed my helmet. He kissed the top of my head. “You are perfect.”
“I know.” I didn’t, but hey, I liked the sound of confidence.
“I’ll come back for you.”
“Oh come on, man, don’t be that way. I don’t need prep work, I need out of this shithole.”
“Believe me when I tell you”—his lips touched mine briefly, then he pulled back to continue—“leaving you here is much harder on me than you think, but we have an agreement with your community and your father. Breaking these agreements would have consequences for my people and yours, not just in your community but in all the communities. The pairing agreements aren’t always this pleasant.” He was referring to the pairs who didn’t want to be sold, mostly because they were brainwashed to fear the beasts or brainwashed to hate the alien race.
“I ain’t scared of you, big man.”
“I can’t take you with me now.” He gripped my waist and put me back on the ground.
He really wasn’t gonna take me with him. I didn’t think I could last another month in here. Dad would ground me, put me under lock and key in the preparation house, whatever the fuck they did in there. I was so sick of being grounded.
I wanted to fly.
I wanted jeans.
And chicken.
And I wanted it all in abundance and right now.
Tears clouded my vision, and I gritted my teeth. Dewlyn McJohn did not fucking cry. “Whatever, dude,” I said and stormed back inside to work on my skater.
Inside the shower, I leaned my forehead against the tile. That very evening, Mom and Dad took me into the preparation house, a small white house near the west edge of our community where my aunts had gone before Dad handed them over to the beasts. Inside, Mom explained why they needed a month of prep. It had nothing to do with wanting to please the beasts.
I refused the cup she handed me.
The next day, a woman I’d never seen before came and tried reasoning with me. I refused because I had a mind of my own, and becau
se I did want to please my beast. The problem? My parents and the new woman expected me to accept the cup.
They expected me to embrace their ways, honor them, believe in them.
Fuck that shit. I screamed bloody murder.
But Vice didn’t hear me.
A toilet flushed.
In the shower, I jumped away from a stream of hot water, trying to collect my thoughts. Through the mosaic-print sliding glass doors, I saw a silhouette. With the water drops hitting the shower doors and the steam in the bathroom, I blinked in disbelief, swiped a hand over my eyes, and didn’t move. I didn’t even breathe. I froze in place because, after all, this was the sacred home of a beast man who would dislike it very much if someone desecrated the things he’d bought for his mate. Like the sneakers I wore, two sizes too big for me, or the tights that looked like loose pants on me. Was the Mayhem dude here? Or it could be another human, dumb enough to loot.
A purple towel draped over the glass door.
I jumped away from the towel, then thought better of it. I was naked, and he was a man. I snatched the soft towel and held it against my chest. The mosaic-covered glass door left everything to my imagination and his, so that worked for me. What didn’t really work for me was that he was looking right at me. I didn’t want to open the door, a shield between this stranger and me. How the hell did he get in here? I squeezed my eyes and remembered stumbling, tired, into the house and not commanding it to engage the alarms. Stupid, stupid, stupid.
Minutes passed, and he didn’t speak.
“I just needed to freshen up,” I said. “I’m an owned pair. My collar’s on the sink. You’ll be sorry if you hurt me.”
When he didn’t peep a sound, I ground my teeth and—very slowly—picked up a shampoo bottle. With my poison darts inside the pocket of the dirty pants on the floor, I didn’t have anything but my bare hands. Hm. There were pens in the nightstand. Maybe I could stab him in the eye if I got out of the bathroom, because I didn’t stand a chance against him. He was simply too big to handle. And up three flights of stairs with the large window at my back, if I jumped from this floor, I’d break something.