The flames on the edge of her sword flashed light blue, signaling that the blade was fully sharp. Pulling Black off the stone, Jet examined the edge, again for the snapping photographers as much for herself. A few seconds later she sheathed it in one smooth move, smiling into the cameras while keeping that harder glint in her eyes.
They loved it. They loved the seeming arrogance, the angry Samurai.
They loved it.
But Jet knew, even as they burst into applause around her, smacking their tails approvingly against walls and stomping their feet on the floor, that some of them would shout just as loudly as her blood got spilled...screaming for Bukka to end it, to rip out her throat.
When it came down to it, she thought wryly, humans and Nirreth might not be so different after all.
At the thought, she found herself looking for Trazen.
He stood at the back, just like she’d known he would, his muscular arms crossed over his broad chest. His face held the expression of an angry, arrogant scowl...the same expression she remembered on him more often than not the first dozen or so times she’d met him.
She found she saw it differently now, though.
Even as she thought it, he blinked at her subtly, a Nirreth’s softer version of a smile.
What felt like bare seconds later, they’d entered the darkened corridor of the ramp leading to the main arena. The floor of the cave-like passageway sloped upwards with a noticable grade, aiming her towards a distant rectangle of light where she could hear chanting already.
As she and Trazen walked up the ramp, surrounded by bodyguards but otherwise alone together for the first time that day, Trazen had his tail coiled tightly around her, tighter than he usually did when they were in public. He held her actual body a little apart from his––she suspected so that she wouldn’t look weak or dependent to the guards––but his grip on her waist was almost suffocating it was so tight, and she could feel his worry leaking through his skin.
She knew this plan made him nervous.
He’d stung her the night before so they could discuss it again.
They had discussed it too...for what felt like hours. Going round and round like they had been since that night at the party, as if trying to reassure one another that they’d made the right decision in trusting Richter...that if they just kept talking about it, they could predict the outcome of this day with real certainty.
After both of them were exhausted from that...he’d left.
He’d left the house and slept elsewhere, like he had been all week.
She couldn’t afford to focus on Trazen right now, though. She definitely couldn’t be thinking about where he spent the night...or with whom. It was difficult with him so close, though.
It was even harder since he’d stung her so recently.
She found herself remembering that night after the party, after their talk with Trazen had finished. After all that, after everything he’d said and all the times he stung her, he’d sent her back to his house alone. He’d put her in one of those trolleys without him and voiced instructions to the steering device of the vehicle to take her back.
She didn’t have to ask where he’d spent the night on that occasion; she suspected she knew. He’d told Chloe he would find her again, after all.
“I didn’t have sex with her,” he said, his voice a low grumble.
Jet looked up, startled.
Feeling herself flush, she looked away before he could meet her gaze.
She wondered why he hadn’t just used the venom to talk to her directly, then realized with the sense-suit, he wasn’t actually touching her skin-to-skin. He could feel things off her, sure, but without bare skin, it wasn’t enough for him to communicate actual words.
Even as she thought it, he reached out with one hand, clasping her bare neck with his jointed fingers.
I didn’t sleep with her, Jet.
Why are you telling me this, Trazen?
I didn’t sleep with her, he repeated. I just had to get away from you.
Jet felt her jaw harden. Trazen, this is hardly the time––
It’s exactly the time, he cut in, his thoughts irritated, bordering on angry. I may not get another time, Jet. Or had you forgotten?
For a second, silence filled his mind.
Swallowing, she didn’t try to break it, biting her tongue. Even so, she wanted to ask. She wanted to know what his deal was with her, even though she knew it was the last thing she should be thinking about right now.
He sighed, clasping her neck tighter, massaging her with his fingers.
If we make it through this alive, you need to choose... he thought at her softly.
Choose what?
He let out an aggravated growl, tightening his tail enough to make her gasp. Choose what? What do you think? If you want me, you need to tell me, Jet...and you need to tell me clearly. You need to choose between me and Lakrsi. You need to choose...
She felt confusion filter over her mind, along with a denser anger. You honestly think I’d be with Laksri now, given what he did to me?
I think you have feelings for him still, Trazen growled back inside her mind. I think you are confused. I think you don’t understand the venom still. I think you need to choose between me and him...or maybe between me and him and Richter’s son, Anaze...since I suspect your feelings for him are more complex than you would like to admit, as well...
Jet felt the anger in her explode into something closer to fury.
Trazen didn’t wait for any part of that anger to become articulate.
I’m telling you I want you, Jet, he cut in. I am being very clear, which is what you said you wanted from me. I want you...and if I’d gone home with you that night after the party, I would have stung you again if you let me. I would have kept stinging you...and I would have had sex with you if you let me, too. But I don’t want us to do that until I believe you when you tell me that things are finished with those other two...
He looked at her directly, the gold flecks standing out sharply in his eyes.
Right now, I don’t believe you, he thought at her bluntly. I want to, but I don’t. Maybe if you weren’t so good at hiding things from me I would believe you...but right now, I can’t see the truth of it. I’ve tried. You have not told me anything I can make sense of in regard to us...
Her jaw clenched painfully again, but she didn’t look over at him.
She could feel what he was pointing to in her mind, what felt like an ambiguity in her feelings, and it infuriated her. It infuriated her more when she realized he was picking up on sexual desire there, too...and yes, confusion.
It embarrassed her. It also made her feel violated.
What right do you have–– she began angrily.
None, he thought at her, cutting her off with a warning glare. ...I have no right whatsoever, Jet. That is precisely my point. That is why I have not acted on any of this.
That time, his thoughts felt openly frustrated.
Jet could feel more complex things on him too, more intense emotions, things that lay just under the surface of his thoughts.
Jet, Trazen’s mind grew more subdued. I understand your confusion. And I went along with this charade of owning you out of necessity...but I won’t after this. Not anymore. It’s not only for me. It’s for you, too. I won’t sting you after this, not unless you make up your mind and choose to be with me. I won’t be responsible for confusing you further. I will be honest, I do not like how Laksri did not teach you more about the venom...I will not do this like he did, and pretend I cannot help there being a power imbalance between us, when I know it does not have to be this way. Nor should it be this way...
His thoughts grew sharper.
Sharp as glass, and clear enough to make her flinch.
For the same reason, I am telling you now...do not ask me to sting you again unless you want me. If you convince me you really want me and I sting you, I intend to take you to bed, Jet...
She flinched, but didn’t look
up and he exhaled in a low growl.
Is that transparent enough for you? he thought at her with another growl. I want you. I’m willing to fight Laksri for you, if necessary...so I need you to think about what you want...before you ask me to sting you again. Before I end up in some kind of confrontation with the First Son or Richter or whoever else. His thoughts turned into a lower grumble. Of course, that’s assuming we don’t both die here today. Then all of this is a moot point...
Jet felt her skin flush as she turned over his words.
Even so, she found herself thinking about them that time.
She also found herself thinking about what he’d said about Laksri.
Glancing up at Trazen’s face in that pause, in curiosity as much as frustration, she fought with other things as well. She wanted him too. He had to know that. Looking at him now, she realized she’d known she wanted him since that first kiss in Laksri’s recovery room. She’d just blamed it on his venom and her own weakness as a human.
Desire bled through his fingers as she continued to look at his face, strong enough to catch her breath. After he’d looked away, she frowned, at a complete loss.
Trazen––
He shook his head, once.
No, he thought. Enough, Jet. I’ve said enough. Make up your mind. Tell me what you want later...when both of us know you really mean it.
She sighed that time, then nodded.
He’d embarrassed her, even angered her, but when she stepped back from the question even marginally, his request made sense. Of course he’d picked up that she was confused about him. Of course he’d picked up that some of that confusion was sexual, especially given how much venom they’d shared at this point.
And yes, of course he’d have some inkling that she was confused about Laksri, given how things were between them before he got shot on Astet. She’d never heard the full story about what had happened to Laksri either, which didn’t help. She knew her unwillingness to hear the story came partly from her confusion around the venom in general, and the fact that she still didn’t trust her own feelings when it came to Nirreth who stung her.
But Trazen and Tyra’s words on that kept coming back to her, too.
The venom is two ways...not only one.
It goes two ways, Jet.
She pushed that from her mind, too. The truth was, she hadn’t let herself think about Laksri much. She hadn’t let herself think about Anaze either, not since she’d been imprisoned on Astet. At first it was because she’d thought both of them were dead.
Lately, she’d had a few more pressing things on her mind. Like not dying herself. Like not letting her brother and her mother get murdered by Richter. Like Isreti staging her public execution. And yes, like Trazen.
Trazen, who’d confused her since he’d first stung her while Laksri lay unconscious.
Nodding more to herself that time, she exhaled. Okay.
Okay? he thought at her.
Glancing up at his face, she exhaled. Why did you sting me that first time? What was that all about, if you work for the Shinkara?
Don’t think about that here, Jet, he thought at her at once.
Okay, but what about the rest of it? Why did you do it? Can you tell me that?
Trazen let out another low growl, but she could feel him trying to answer her question.
I didn’t know where you stood, he thought at her next. I didn’t know if you were Richter’s pawn, or if I might be able to talk to you apart from him...and apart from Laksri. I needed an in with your group. You were the biggest unknown...and you were the easiest, frankly.
Jet let out a snort, her eyes on the rectangle of light at the end of the ramp.
That rectangle was a lot bigger now.
The weak link, she muttered in her mind.
No, he thought back at her at once, his mind warning. No. Not weak. But less known. More of a wild card. He hesitated, and for an instant she swore she felt embarrassment on him. And I wanted to sting you, he added, softer. I hadn’t actually intended to kiss you...or to let you feel as much of me as you did. Some of that was a mistake...
Jet nodded. That, at least, matched with what she’d felt on him at the time.
She glanced up, studying his face. Seeing the frown touching his dark lips, she felt his worry intensify. Glancing ahead, she realized it was because they were almost to the end of the ramp. Now they were close enough that the sounds from the arena crowd were slowly wiping out all other physical sound, like a rising ocean. She could hear the swell of voices, laughter, the distant stomp and thump of feet and tails, the tinnier sound of the Rings announcers and what must have been media loops playing in the background.
She might have noticed earlier if they hadn’t been talking through the venom.
Anything else? she asked him softly. She gripped his tail, sending more of a peace offering through the venom. Before I got out there, I mean. Anything else?
He looked at her, his dark eyes flashing, the gold flecks bright as small suns. Jet saw his long jaw harden as he stared at her face. He continued to walk straight ahead with her, into that rectangle of light where the ambient noise grew abruptly louder.
Yes, he said, even as the ramp’s cameras must have picked them up, bringing a swell of shouts and screams as their faces were likely splashed across the high monitors. Don’t get killed, Jet. I’ll be extremely annoyed with you, if you do. Unforgivably annoyed.
He tightened his tail around her as he thought it.
She let out a soft chuckle, too soft for him to hear above the rising shouts. She could tell he at least saw her smile, although he only shook his head, his expression torn between amusement and what might have been real anger as he gave her another bare glance.
He really was worried about her.
The thought kind of blew her mind.
Kneel...
Trazen’s fingers pushed at her shoulder, and Jet obeyed without thought.
Her mind flickered back to her very first Rings match, when Laksri had to prod her to do the same thing. But this would be a first, too. The format for a challenge match meant she didn’t kneel in front of the Rings judges on her own.
Next to her, only a few yards to her right, Bukka, the half-human-half-Nirreth giant knelt on a knee that looked thicker in circumference than Jet’s waist.
Jet distracted herself by going over her memories of every segment of the course, even though she knew she didn’t need to do that, either.
She and Trazen and Alice and Tyra and Anslom had been training all week.
Even so, she was nervous.
Her training team changed up the physical locations of the props on her whenever they could, to try and prepare her for any possible combination. Jet knew it might not help her much, though; ever since the Rings Operators had known of her “spatial thing,” as Anaze had called it, or her “photographic memory,” as Richter called it, the pullers had gotten more and more creative with the physical layout of Jet’s runs. They’d also gotten in the habit of rearranging that layout––sometimes mid-run––just to mess her up. As a further precaution, the pullers instituted a policy of cloaking the physical arena prior to Jet’s arrival.
According to Trazen, Jet was the first contestant they’d ever done that for.
Still, worrying about it was useless.
Once she got a few landmarks lodged in her head, she could usually figure out the big things anyway. There were only so many things they could change, given that the largest objects––the lake and some of the bigger platforms–-were more or less fixed in place.
Or so she told herself.
Jet went through each possible permutation of the course in her head, right up until Trazen nudged her, giving her that silent command to kneel. Tearing her eyes off the blank, virtual wall surrounding where the Rings arena stood, Jet knelt...and found herself facing a row of Nirreth.
The Rings Judges.
She knew most of them by now, even though a few of those faces had changed with the r
ise of the new First Son.
Silence fell over the crowd, which was also custom. Even now, the silence unnerved her with its completeness, especially given the size of the Nirreth crowd. When Nirreth went quiet, they stopped moving, even fidgeting or breathing loudly.
She found herself sneaking a peek up to the box that stood just over the padded bench where the Rings Judges faced her in a row. There, First Son Isreti sat wearing a bright purple tunic that matched the one worn by his breeding partner, a female Nirreth with whom he had two children. Kneeling on the floor by his and his breeding partner’s chairs were two other persons...Jet flinched when she realized they were both human, and that both were naked. When she glanced back at the First Son’s face, she could have sworn he saw her looking and smiled.
Either way, the two slaves had to be a message, too.
She remembered what Richter and Trazen said, about Isreti being an ideologue. He wanted to go back to the days when the top of Nirreth society lived like decadent kings, treating anyone below them like pets. Something in the fact of anyone even wanting that––human or Nirreth––terrified Jet, and yet she remembered when she believed all Nirreth thought that way.
Most skags assumed the Nirreth thought that way still.
When Jet looked up next, the judge in the middle, a male Nirreth with dark, seaweed-green eyes, was staring at her.
She knew him. His name was Nurem, and he’d been the chief judge of the Rings since she’d gotten here, a role they called “Keeper of the Law,” which didn’t really translate that great into English. Somehow, she found seeing him there strangely reassuring. She’d never liked Nurem per se...she’d never known him well enough to have any opinion about him at all, really. But Nurem always struck Jet as fair, and as not particularly hateful towards humans.
“Who owns this mammal?” he said, smiling at her faintly.
Behind her, Trazen answered.
“I do,” Trazen said, intoning the words in formal Nargili. “Trazen Holandano, Fourth Son of Murek Holandano. Current Ringmaster and Operations Director of the Rings...and I own this mammal, having received her as a gift from our beloved First Son...” He bowed in the direction of the Royals’ box. “I have paperwork to prove this ownership.”
Alien Apocalypse: The Complete Series (Parts I-IV) Page 77