CHAPTERTHIRTEEN
Bela
Since being abducted, I find myself struggling with the concept of time. Since there is no distinguishable sunrise/sunset, only a slight dimming of lights that vaguely mimics a circadian pattern, the days—or rotations—just sort of meld together. Ithinkit’s only been a day since coming back from the red room where I met Treto, the red-scaled lizard-man who is suddenly starring in my dreams and most of my thoughts.
Cybele has the day shift, and the other two girls are still in their nooks, sleeping I assume. The sex droid Xaja, is propped in a corner while she recharges, leaving Nita, Skylar, and me some unexpected privacy.
Lounging on a settee, I scroll through a tablet, although I’m not really sure what I’m looking at, since I can’t read the strange alien script, but there are pictures. Advertisements, I think, and I’m trying to guess what each image is selling.
My finger slides across the smooth surface to an image of a regal—handsome even—alien standing at a podium. His hand is raised, and he’s wearing a stern expression. My first thought ispolitician.But we’re in space, so maybe he’s a ruler or ambassador of some kind. He’s surprisingly human-looking, with mostly silver hair, highlighted with bands of blond and light brown. The lights trained on him glint off patches of…whatare those?They look like iridescent dragon scales peeking out from the high collar of his shirt and shirt sleeves. Suddenly I’m reminded of the alien slideshow Elara gave us, and I’m pretty sure he’s anEpsilon.
I swipe to the next image; this one looks like a musician of some kind. The alien is androgynous, its eyes closed with its mouth open in an O, like it’s singing. Royal purple skin glistens under the bright lights. I wonder what kind of music it makes? Would it be something completely foreign, or would my human ears still be able to appreciate it? I’ve always had eclectic tastes in music. Everything from hip hop to country. It all depends on the mood that strikes me.
I decide this alien must be the equivalent of a famous pop singer and swipe my finger again. As soon as the page changes, I let out a sharp gasp and press the tablet against my chest. It’s too late, though; the image is already burned into my memory.
Swallowing thickly, I pull the tablet back and look down. There is no doubt what this is advertising.
The image is a close up of a female alien with bubblegum skin and pink hair, and she looks like she might be in the middle of an orgasm, or at least close to it. Her eyes are closed, mouth open, and I can practically hear her breathy moans. The likeness is so close to Cybele that I think it must be her, and I wonder if she’s aware the picture was taken. Did she consent to having it advertised all over the universe? Did she have a choice?
Her face is the only thing in sharp focus. The rest of the image is artfully blurred, hinting at her smooth naked back that is arched up to receive whatever the out-of-focus male behind her is giving.
The sound of the outer doors opening snaps me from my dirty thoughts, and my fingers fumble to turn the tablet off, as if I might be caught looking at something I shouldn’t be.
“Good morning, girls,” Madame Athea purrs as she breezes into the room. She’s wearing a simple yet elegant silk sheath dress in a deep shade of red with just a hint of plum sheen. The fabric is gathered around her shoulders almost like a cowl. A cascade of black lace falls from her elongated skull. Tossing the tablet aside, I sit up and watch as she glides into the room.
“Come here; I have the best news for you.” She gestures to us like one might cajole a litter of puppies.
My stomach clenches, and Nita and I find each other’s eyes from across the room, where she’s been carefully braiding Skylar’s hair. We share a worried look before slowly doing as she asks.
“Come come,” Madame titters. When we’ve gathered around her, she presses her palms together and grins down at us before her gaze latches onto Skylar. “I’ve chosen a male for you, my dear.”
My blood turns to ice in my veins.No!
Reaching out, the madame caresses her claw-tipped fingers down the side of Skylar’s face. The poor girl is so frightened that she’s visibly shaking, but the madame either doesn’t notice or just doesn’t care.
“There was quite a bit of negotiating,” she croons. “But in the end, theItza’s offer was too generous to ignore.” She wears a twisted smile on her lips and a sickening glint in her oil-slick eyes.
Itza… Itza …Itza…
I struggle to recall what kind of alien species that is, even as my stomach churns because…No, that can’t be what she actually chose…
Itzas are huge. They like things rough, and when their partners make sounds of distress, it turns them on, works them into a frenzy.
Oh no. No—
“No!” I scream the word before I realize and grab the back of Skylar’s shirt, pulling her away from the monster stroking her like a fucking pet, before thrusting her behind me. “You promised—”
Before I can finish, Madame Athea’s hand comes out of nowhere, striking me hard enough that it almost knocks me off my feet. My vision swims, but I hold my ground. The entire side of my face is throbbing, and when I touch my cheek, my fingers come away wet with blood from where her claws raked across my flesh.
Behind me, Skylar screams and then bursts into tears. Nita growls at her to shut up as I straighten and meet the madame’s enraged eyes. That’s when I realize the mistake I’ve made. Her beautiful face is contorted, twisted into somethingevilwith a glint of fire in the depths of her endless black eyes.
“Youdare!”she hisses at me.
This is hardly the first time I’ve been struck. I lost count how many times my own mother slapped me for calling her out or accusing her of using her depression as an excuse to hide away. For not eventrying. Not even for her children!
I like to think that I’m pretty mild-tempered, but if I’m provoked… that’s when my claws come out. And right now?
My hands curl into tight fists, and I pull myself up, puffing out my chest and trying to look as big as I can, despite the monster towering over me.
