by Dixon, Ruby
"Then why do you laugh?"
"Because it's cute."
"Cute?" He sounds disgusted. "I am an a'ani warrior. The last thing I need is to be cute."
"Not even to me?" I ask slyly, and then realize I'm flirting. Oh god. He's not going to want to flirt with a fat pregnant lady. He just feels sorry for me. "Sorry, I guess that got weird, didn't it?"
"Only because you think I am cute." Vordis is disgruntled.
I let go of his hand, just because I don't want him to feel like I'm throwing myself at him. I don't want pity—I get enough of that from everyone else. "So…you were sneaking in to my cave tonight? Are you leaving me another present?"
"I am."
I like that he doesn't hide it, or pretend like it's not him. There's not an ounce of fakeness in him, and it's refreshing. Once I figure out what makes him tick, I'll know exactly where I stand with him at all times. I just have to get there.
But first I want to know what he's left me for today's present. "What did you bring?"
"It is a leaf," Vordis announces, as if it's the most precious thing ever. "I plucked it from the edges of a stream that smelled foul and was warm to the touch."
"A hot spring?" I ask, breathless, and practically moan with desire. "Oh my god, I would love to visit one."
"It is a far walk from here," Vordis admits, and I can hear the regret in his voice. "I could carry you, but it would take us a very long time."
"No, it's all right. I'll save it for after the baby is born, I guess." I try to hide my disappointment, though it's difficult. I would love a hot bath, even if it smelled like sulfur. Sometimes it feels as if I'll never be warm again. This place is always cold, and I feel it seeping into my bones, especially at night. I hate how chilly it is even under the furs. But I have to get used to it. "Strange to think of something that will happen after the baby's born. It feels like I'm in limbo, just waiting and waiting and waiting for it to happen. For the other shoe to drop." Before he can comment on shoes dropping, I add, "It's another figure of speech."
"It will be all right." The quiet confidence in his voice is lovely to hear. "I will not let you or your child come to any harm."
I believe him. "You're a good man."
"I am no man. I am a'ani."
There's a sad note to his voice that I don't understand and I worry I'm going to insult him again. "A good a'ani, then. So…tell me about this leaf. Where is it?"
He tugs on my hand, gently pulling me into my own cave, and my heart skips an excited beat. It's just to look at a leaf, I remind my silly heart. No need to get so excited. Nothing's going to happen in my cave. I'm pregnant. Really, really pregnant.
The reminder of my situation always brings a sobering reality to it. I can't forget that of all the women here, I'm the one that can't resonate. I've already got a baby waiting. Some stranger's baby that they gave me while I was asleep, and I try not to shudder at all the awful implications of that.
Vordis gives my hand another comforting squeeze, and then we're standing next to my tiny hearth. He releases my hand and bends over, the glow of his eyes momentarily disappearing and then returning a scant second later as he turns to me. "Put your hand out."
"Thank you."
He pauses. "Why do you thank me?"
"Because you keep giving me presents. It's very thoughtful." And because that sounds ridiculously formal, I add, "It makes me feel special."
He reaches out and takes my hand, but he doesn't drop the leaf in. Instead, his fingers stroke mine, and his shadowy face looks thoughtful. "I want you to enjoy this world as much as I do. To see its beauty." He pauses, and then continues. "I like to see you smile."
Oh.
Before I can say anything else, he drops the leaf onto my palm and releases my hand. "I do not know what it is called," he tells me. "But the color is a deep green with hints of blue at the edges."
"It sounds pretty. Is that why you got it for me?" I stroke it, imagining him taking a moment to pluck a leaf for me and carefully bring it back because he thinks I might like it.
Vordis is quiet for a moment. "No, I got it for you because it is soft like…" He pauses, and then lets out a few strangled words. "How I imagine your hair is."
My hair? I pet the leaf in my hand. It is soft, silky like velvet, and as long as my palm even though the width is quite narrow. "You were thinking of me when you saw this?"
"I always think of you." His voice grows in confidence and defiance.
I can't help but feel pleased at that, even if the meaning behind it is more innocent than my brain makes it. "Because you're a'ani?"
He pauses, and I look up at him again. In the near-darkness, his eyes are the brightest things, glowing from within and illuminating the sharpness of his features. "Not always because I am a'ani," he admits. "Sometimes because I am Vordis."
Oh.
I gaze up at him, lips parted in wonder. Will he kiss me? I hope he'll kiss me. But as we stare at each other, I realize that I'm thinking of him like human men. I don't know if he knows how to kiss. He's never mentioned living around other women, just arenas and battles and Thrand. It's clear that all of the male ex-slaves that landed on this planet with us are not well adjusted, for lack of a better term. I can't expect him to kiss me, because that's a wholly human thing.
I'm going to have to make the first move, like Bridget said.
For a moment, I hate that I'm pregnant. I hate that there's this mystery baby in my belly that might be there because of a rape I don't remember, or a relationship that I've forgotten. I hate that I don't know what I'm carrying, and I hate that I'm here with someone special and I feel like I can't do what I want because I have to think like a pregnant lady.
Because if it was just me, regular Angie Campbell, I'd grab him and kiss him silly. I'd drag him into the furs for a careless fling that will make me forget all about how lost and alone I feel on this strange, cold planet. But that's the old Angie. The new Angie has an entirely different set of problems…and her lower back hurts. The thought of sex doesn't sound great at the moment.
Backrub, yes. Sex, no.
But that doesn't mean I can't hug the guy. And right now? A hug sounds delightful. His arms around me? Like heaven. Just thinking about it fills me with longing—it's been so long since someone's touched me with affection. Really, really touched me. So, leaf in my hand, I spread my arms and move forward toward him.
Vordis doesn't move. He just stands stiffly as I wrap my arms around his waist and tuck my head against his chest. "What are you doing?"
"I'm hugging you. It's a way to show affection, and I'm feeling grateful and happy and lonely and I want to be held." I guess if he can be completely upfront with how he feels, I can, too.
One big hand touches my shoulder, and then the other moves to my back. "I…will hold you, then."
"Thank you." I angle my belly to the side slightly so I can keep my cheek against his chest. He's wearing another furry tunic, and for a moment I wish he was as scantily clothed as some of the barbarians are. I know he and Thrand aren't fans of clothing. For the first week, they did their best to strip it off at all times. I'm almost disappointed that he's dressed now. I'll take this, though. Because his big arms are around me, and he's relaxing a bit more with every moment that passes.
"Am I doing this right?" Vordis asks after a moment. "Or is there more to be done?"
"This is perfect," I tell him softly, closing my eyes. "You're doing great." I slide my hand up and down his lower back, trying to make him relax.
"Can I…move my hands? Or is there an appropriate spot in which they should be?"
"You can touch me however you want," I reassure him. "I won't mind a bit." In fact, I'm hungry for it. I'm starving for a bit of attention. Love. Affection. Whatever he'll send my way, I'll take greedily. It's not that I'm used to being like this, but since we've arrived, I've felt so very isolated and alone that this simple gesture makes me feel…whole.
Vordis's big hand strokes up and dow
n my furry layers over my tunic. He grunts. "Your clothing does not allow me to touch your skin. Do people not hug with their skin exposed?"
"They do," I agree, smiling. "But it's very cold here, and if I'm exposed, I won't be very comfortable."
"I am warm. You could hold onto me."
Oh, I love that idea. I smile into the darkness as his hand moves up and down my arm, stroking. "That'd be nice." Now I'm imagining nights with Vordis, naked. I imagine tucking my naked body against his and putting my hands all over his bright red skin. He'd be so warm, his body hard with muscle…
My body prickles with arousal. I wonder if this is the part of pregnancy where I get crazy horny, like Liz said?
But then the baby kicks and my lower back tightens at the awkward angle, and I reluctantly pull away from Vordis's arms. I've forgotten who I am. I'm not like the other girls with no problems on my plate. I've got a baby on the way, and by the time it gets here, Vordis will probably resonate to someone else. A hot stab of jealousy shoots through me at the thought. Who has he shown attention to other than me? Nadine? Callie? Sam? Sam's so darn pretty—
"We are done?" Vordis's tone is impossible to read.
"Yeah, for now," I tell him, and force a smile to my face. I'm reluctant to let go, my hands at his waist even as I pull back just slightly. "I guess we shouldn't tell Thrand about this."
I feel him stiffen. "Why should we think of Thrand at all?"
"Oh, I just…" I trail off. "I was making a joke."
"We are different people," Vordis tells me, his tone clipped with displeasure. He squeezes my upper arm gently. "Do you need more hugging before I rejoin the others?"
"No, I'm okay," I say softly. I always blurt out the wrong things around him. I don't want him leaving unhappy. I don't want him leaving at all, actually. The thought of him being angry for the next few days—again—is enough to make me reach out and take his hand in mine. "I wasn't trying to hurt your feelings, Vordis."
I can practically see him relax. "I know, Angie."
"You know I can always tell you two apart."
"I know." But he touches my cheek and then leaves anyway.
I stroke my leaf thoughtfully, trying not to let my sad thoughts overwhelm me. Right now? I could really use another hug, but Vordis is gone.
7
VORDIS
My thoughts are full of Angie on the next day's hunt.
The softness of her skin.
The curves of her body as she pressed against mine.
The scent of her hair. The feel of her. The way she laughed and reached out for me. The way her eyes shone in the darkness, as if I was the only thing that existed.
I am a'ani. I am dedicated to her. I am not supposed to think of her in any way save to protect her. She is my one and only task. I am not supposed to have feelings for her, or anything else. I am bred to serve.
But I think of Angie in ways I am not supposed to. I think of putting my arms around her, with her skin bare against my own. I think of her with the child in her belly and wonder what it would be like if it were mine. I think of Angie, smiling up at me, leaning so close that her breath fans over my face. I think of her pulling apart the laces of her clothing at the neck and exposing her large teats—
Thrand grabs me by my belt and hauls me backward. "Idiot. Are you going to walk off the side of that cliff?"
I edge backward, not realizing how lost in thought I was. Sure enough, I am far too close to one of the rocky precipices that dot the landscape here. Our hunting party—Cashol and the human female Nadine—is staring at me.
"Apologies," I say quickly, and push Thrand's hands away. "I was distracted by a momentary thought."
"A momentary thought?" Thrand frowns at me as if I am a stranger. "You have been wandering toward that cliff for thirty steps. I have watched you."
"I was thinking of something else," I say firmly and turn to Cashol. "Are we near the hunting grounds?"
"The dvisti herd is up ahead," the hunter agrees, turning and pointing. "Over that hill in the distance. There is a valley they like to visit. Come. We are close."
Nadine gives us a curious look, but when Cashol moves forward, she follows him. She is one of the human females with dark skin and a wealth of curly hair, and she is determined to learn to hunt. Cashol has been bringing her with us recently. She is not good, but she tries hard and so he continues to bring her. I find it annoying, because she slows us down.
Thrand finds it amusing, I think. He watches her often, a curious look on his face. Normally he tries to walk beside her, but on this day, he scowls at me and waits behind. When I go to follow the others, he grabs the front of my heavy tunic and physically pulls me aside. I shove at him, annoyed.
"I said I was fine," I snap at him.
"What bothers you, brother?"
"Nothing."
Thrand shakes his head. "You cannot lie to a fellow a'ani. We have the same minds. We think alike—"
"We are nothing alike," I snarl at him, hating the words that come out of his mouth. They sound far too close to what Angie said. I do not want her to think of him when she thinks of me.
I do not want her to think of him at all.
I storm ahead, and when I reach Nadine's side, instead of letting Thrand walk beside her, I stay there, just to irritate him.
Nadine gives me a quick glance, her attention on her spear and the snowshoes she wears so she does not sink too deep. Her height is slight compared to ours, and so the drifts pose a greater obstacle for her than for us. "Sibling rivalry?"
"Eh?" I turn to her, scowling.
"I used to fight with my sisters all the time," she says, her voice mild. "We'd have some massive hair-pulling fights. Kicking, screaming, you name it. It's just a thing siblings go through. You and Thrand the same?"
"We are not siblings," I tell her curtly. How many times must I tell these people we are a'ani? But they do not seem to listen.
"I thought y'all were twins?"
"We are a'ani."
"That doesn't mean 'twin' in your language?" She casts me a puzzled glance, panting as she struggles to keep up with Cashol's brisk pace.
"It means clone. He and I are bred from the same genetic material, but we are not related otherwise."
"Oh." She seems surprised. "You call him brother, though."
"Every a'ani is a brother to the others. It does not mean we are a family."
"Huh," is all she says. Thrand jogs up to my side and elbows me, clearly wanting my spot next to Nadine. I ignore him. Eventually, Nadine continues. "So not from the same mama?"
"No mother. We are cloned on a station designed for such purposes."
"Huh. The alien equivalent of puppy mills. Okay, then. I—"
"Why are you talking to him?" Thrand jogs up on Nadine's other side and casts her an angry look before glancing back at me. "You are not supposed to talk to her more than me."
"It's called being polite," Nadine tells him. "Look into it."
She seems annoyed by Thrand's demands. I decide I like this Nadine. "Tell me more about puppies and how they are milled," I say to her. "I wish to know." The more I can learn about the human world, the more I will be able to talk with Angie about such things. I want her to be impressed with my conversation. I want her to look up at me, eyes shining.
Thrand scowls in my direction, then looks back to Nadine. "I want to know, as well. Tell me everything. And tell me first."
"You're being a little pushy, you know," she tells Thrand. "Girls aren't big fans of that."
"No?" He looks startled, his steps pausing as if he's truly taken aback. When she laughs, he jogs next to her once more. "What is it females like? Females like you?"
"Well, for one, we don't like being told not to talk to people," she continues merrily. "And for two, we don't appreciate being told not to set a trap because we are fragile and a weak-limbed species."
Up ahead, Cashol snorts with amusement, a sign he is listening to our conversation. I bite back a grin as w
ell, because I remember Thrand telling Nadine that earlier and the noise of outrage she made.
"But you are a weak-limbed species," Thrand interjects. "It is charming that you think you have the strength of a female gladiator, but you could not be more wrong—"
"Hsst," Cashol says, and raises a hand into the air. He stares ahead, and we stop in our tracks. I am silent, as are Thrand and Nadine. Over the last while, we have learned that if we are to catch prey, when the leader says to be silent, it is best to be immediately silent.
There is no prey here, though. The breeze turns and a familiar smell wafts through the air. Blood.
"What's that smell?" Nadine whispers even as Cashol crouches low and creeps forward, to the edge of the cliff. I follow close behind, and Thrand does, too. We exchange a look, our bickering forgotten in the face of danger. This is a scent we know well, and my senses tingle with alertness, as if we are about to join a battle.
Down below, in the valley, the snows are splattered with red. I squint to sharpen my gaze, and as I do, objects come into focus. The dvisti we have been hunting are down below, all right, but they are already hunted. A dozen of the creatures have been torn apart, ripped limb from limb with their parts scattered over the white snow. Here there is a limb, there a pile of entrails that must have been a young dvisti, once.
"Holy shit, what happened?" Nadine's voice is full of horror. I look over and she crouches close to Thrand, her eyes wide. He tries to touch her, but she swats his hand aside.
Odd that he should touch a female other than Angie, who we are sworn to. I mentally store that information away to ask him about later.
"I do not like the look of this," Cashol says, voice low. "It is the wrong season for such things."
"Season?" I ask. "You know what this is, then?"
"Skyclaw. Look at the slash-marks." He points, indicating three parallel runnels in the blood-spattered snow. "They dive from above and attack their prey. They like to toy with it, though, and they kill more than they need." He shakes his head. "Wasteful, terrible things."
"What are they?" Nadine shivers, and this time when Thrand puts a protective hand on her shoulder, she doesn't bat him away.
