“It feels different for me, too,” I said in a trembling voice, and I meant it. I had never in my life had such ambiguous feelings toward another living creature. My emotions around him were muddied, and my body’s reactions were all over the place.
I feared him. I took comfort from him. I was disgusted by him. I admired him. I pitied him. I was drawn to him.
“Ms. Haines, in four days things will be much quieter around here.”
My breathing faltered and I managed an, “Okay.”
“My people will be celebrating an annual tradition. It is of the highest importance to our race. In years to come, nearly all adults will participate, but we must work up to that level of safety.”
I nodded, waiting for him to use the word “mating,” but he never did.
“I should warn you, those who do not participate will be overly aware of celebrations in the building. There will be high tensions, agitation, even animosity, so you will keep more distance than usual from the guards and be on your best behavior.”
“Yes, sir,” I said.
I met his eyes meekly, my heart hammering as I worked up the courage to ask the question Linette wanted to know. “Will you be celebrating, Senator?”
His eyes bore into mine, and I swear a torrid wave rolled in the space between our bodies.
“No, Ms. Haines. I will not.”
“Okay,” I whispered. “But . . . you’re not expecting any trouble during that time, are you?”
He gave me a small, reassuring smile. “None at all.”
“Good.” I returned his small smile.
A small walkie-talkie bleeped at his waist, and he pulled it out.
“Bahntan, we have the human male’s name. Martin Bishop. Caucasian.”
They were the same race. I closed my eyes and forced them open again.
The Senator’s lips tightened as he spoke into the handheld. “Gather the town members.”
It didn’t matter that he sounded unhappy. It didn’t matter that he clearly didn’t want to do this. He was doing it anyway, and that’s what mattered. I wasnotfeeling drawn to him at this moment.
“We must go.”
“Let me stay. Please.”
His mouth tightened. “Every human is to be present. I cannot make an exception.”
“Senator.” My stomach rolled, and I pressed a hand to it. “I can’t handle watching.”
“Come,” he urged, temporarily stunning my system with a blast of calmness.
I followed.
On the ride to Primo Town, I wiped a trail of tears from my cheeks, and the Senator pretended not to notice. I felt like a automaton, dragging my feet as we went inside the gates. So many guards were present, surrounding the crowd of humans. In the front of the spectacle, Ms. Oliver from the kitchen was standing on a rectangular hay bale, her hands bound in front of her, and a gag in her mouth. Her filthy face was streaked with tears, and worst of all . . . I could see the lump in her thin belly where she was showing.
On a hay bale beside her was Mr. Bishop, his head high, though it looked like he’d been dragged through the dirt, kicking and fighting, earning himself a blackened cheek.
“Remy!” My head spun toward the tiny voice of Kelsey, who was struggling in Linette’s arms. I ran to them, scooping the girl to my chest and forcing her head into the crook of my neck.
“Sh. It’s okay. You’re safe.”
“No touching!” shouted a guard. I released Kelsey and stood, wanting to scream back at the heartless soldier. The guard moved away, staring down the line as the Senator moved to the front of the crowd.
