by Dixon, Ruby
If I cannot have Angie as a mate, I will provide for her in the only way I can. I am dedicated to her and so I must keep her safe, warm, and happy even at my own expense. I do not mind, though. The more tired I am, the less my thoughts turn to her. When I do not think of Angie and her soft smile and warm skin, my heart does not ache so badly I want to tear it from my chest.
So I hunt.
20
ANGIE
"I can't get over how good you look," Brooke gushes at me as she admires my new tunic. "I hope that when my baby comes, my body snaps back as quickly as yours has."
I grin at her—who doesn't love a compliment?—and jiggle Glory on my hip. "Well, it has been a month, right? How long do these things normally take?"
"Heck, I don't know. I guess we could ask Gail." She hiccups and then burps into her hand. "Okay, this tea the islanders made is strong. It's messing with my head." She peers at her cup. "It's not beer, is it?"
"I don't know." When she offers the cup, I take a sip and then wrinkle my nose. A taste like sour sweat and three-week-old yogurt touches my tongue. "Oh god, it tastes awful!" I make a face and push it away. "What is that?"
She shrugs. "Some fermented crap." Her eyes widen and she looks at me in horror. "Oh crap. I'm pregnant. I wonder if I shouldn't be drinking this." She shoves the cup into my hand and then races over to the main fire, where Veronica's sitting in Ashtar's lap. Next to them, N'dek snorts and rolls his eyes, taking a sip of his own brew.
I bite back a laugh. Something in N’dek’s disgusted face tells me that it's not an alcoholic drink at all and Brooke’s just being panicky. I take another sip and then shudder. Not any better on the second round, no. A big guy from Shadowed Cat passes by, heading for the smoking pit, and I offer the cup to him. He grins, downs it in one swallow, and hands the empty vessel back to me.
"Problem solved, right, sweetie?" I murmur to Glory and kiss her little brow. I can't stop staring at my beautiful baby. It's been a month and it seems like yesterday she arrived, all beautiful eyes and silvery-purple tufted hair. She's filled out now, her cheeks impossibly fat and dimpled, and the teeny tiny sails on the backs of her arms and legs are unfurling with a hint of iridescence to them. She giggles up at me, her mouth wet with drool, and I've never seen anything so cute.
"Lemme see that fat baby," Gail calls as I approach the fire. She puts her arms out, indicating I should hand Glory over. Near the fire, Vaza has Z'hren in his arms, and he talks with R'jaal as they both sip more of the brew.
I sidestep past more tribes-people as I move toward Gail. It's a cold, chilly night, so everyone's huddled up and clustered by the fire despite the clear weather, and it makes it tricky to squeeze in. "Have you seen Harlow's baby yet?" I ask her, since that's the reason for the big party tonight.
"Not yet, but I'm told she's got bright red hair, pale skin, horns and a tail, and they named her Daya after Rukh's mother." Gail takes Glory into her arms. "Look at you, sweet little thing. Want to come hang out with Miss Gail while your mama gets herself some food?"
"You don't mind?" I ask. I love holding Glory, but trying to get food from the communal fire can sometimes be a real beast with her in my arms.
"Girl, please." Gail just hugs Glory closer and moves back to her seat, beaming at my daughter. Gail loves babies and takes every chance she can get to hold mine. And Liz’s. And I bet she can’t wait to hold Harlow’s. It doesn’t matter that Gail and Vaza recently adopted the orphaned Z’hren from the Strong Arm island clan. She always says there's enough love to go around for everyone. I'm glad she's here, because she's another mama I can ask all my weird questions. For all that we're stranded on an icy planet, the support network here is amazing and I've grown to love most of the tribe.
Shrugging my wraps closer around my body, I glance about the campfire, looking for a flash of red skin. I see none, though. Well, Vordis is probably eating. There's a cluster of hunters by the smoking pit off in the distance, and in the dim moonlight I can't make out who's there. He's probably with them, Thrand at his side.
I feel the low, melancholy loneliness move over me. I'm still frustrated and confused by him and his actions. I don't know where I stand with him, and I admit that the hut contest hurt my feelings far more than it should have. Just when I thought things might be real between us, he called them into question and made me doubt everything, though. Time apart is good, I tell myself, just like I've told myself every day for the last month. I've deliberately avoided him and while it took a few for him to get the hint, now I never see him. I told myself that was just fine, but the truth is…I'm lonely and I miss him. I want to talk to him. I want to hear him mangle a knock-knock joke. I want him to smile at me or just touch my hand. I want him to hold Glory and see his face light up with how big she's getting, because I know he likes her.
And I know it's my fault that he's staying away now. Maybe I've been a teensy bit too overzealous with the whole “don't want to talk to you ever again” thing. I do want to talk to him. I want to find out what the heck he was thinking and see where that leaves us.
I don't want to be alone. I've been alone long enough. And what I feel for him is so strong. I thought time apart would be good for us, but it's been hell. I've missed his scent, his touch, his gorgeous red skin and muscular body…and I've just missed talking to him, hearing about his day and what he hunted. Even the small things felt wonderful because they were with him.
As I look around the fire, I see couples everywhere. Liz sits by the fire nursing her new baby, her girls at her feet, and Raahosh stands behind her, adjusting the cloak warmly over her shoulders and watching her with a clear, passionate devotion. There’s Willa, who I was close to until she departed with Gren. They’re back and all over each other with happiness, so I don’t begrudge her that, even if I do miss talking to her. Lauren's cuddling with K'thar by the fire, and Veronica's in her usual spot in Ashtar's lap. Even Hannah and J'shel look like they've mended fences, because they're holding hands, their heads close together. Bridget's conspicuously missing from around the fire…and so is A'tam, which means the rumors I've heard about those two sneaking off to hook up are probably true.
Everyone's so happy.
I'm not. I feel out of step without Vordis. Like I really, truly am alone in all this. When he’s with me, I feel…happy. Content. Peaceful, knowing that I’ve got someone to lean on and talk to, who likes me and who I like back, too.
I shiver a little. Okay, so his kisses don’t make me feel all that peaceful. They make me hungry for more.
It’s hard to sort my feelings from the betrayal, though. I wish he’d come talk to me. I wish he’d have stormed into my cave and told me that he kissed me because he thought I was sexy, not because he wanted to “win” some silly contest.
But the longer we avoid each other, the more I fear it’s exactly that.
I stand awkwardly, looking around the gathering to find a good spot to sit down and relax. I could probably squeeze into Gail’s now empty seat, as she’s standing with Glory in her arms and chatting to Vaza, who holds Z’hren. But stealing another woman’s seat while she holds my baby? I’m not that person. She’s got enough room for me to squeeze in, maybe, but she’s next to N’dek, who I don’t know all that well and doesn’t look all that welcoming. On the other side are J’shel and Hannah, who are too kissy-kissy for me to tolerate tonight. Whatever happened between them, they seem to have made up.
I see a wide-open spot on the far side…just as Pashov slides in next to it. He picks up a drum and begins to sing, and I inwardly wince. Not gonna sit there. These people are very sweet, but they can’t carry a tune in a bucket and I don’t want to spend all night pretending I’m enjoying the caterwauling. I peer farther down the group, hoping for a nice neutral spot when I see a bright red chest and a jaw dusted in black stubble.
My heart skips a beat and I look up to see him smiling at me. For a moment, I think it’s Vordis, but it only takes a second to realize that they aren’t the wide-set,
soulful eyes of my a’ani. It’s Thrand standing across the fire, and disappointment surges through me. I look around, but I don’t see Vordis anywhere. Is he not coming to the gathering because I’m here? How long are we going to keep doing this?
The evening’s celebration is ruined for me and I suddenly feel like retreating back to my cave and weeping.
Thrand cuts through the group, heading toward me, and I force myself to remain where I am, not to retreat. I stiffen in anticipation of his approach. Is he going to hit on me now that Vordis isn’t here? Now that he thinks the path is clear? I hate this. I hate this so much.
“Angie,” he murmurs and comes to stand beside me. “May I speak with you?”
I notice absently that he doesn’t have the curious little caress in his tone as he says my name, not like Vordis does. “I don’t know,” I manage to say calmly. “Is this about huts? Because I’m not interested if it is.”
He pauses, thinking. “It is, but I wish to apologize for that.”
I shoot him a glance, waiting.
Thrand’s mouth tightens and he watches me, rubbing a hand through his hair in a move that’s so like Vordis that it makes me ache to see it. “I am having a difficult time here on this world.”
“It hasn’t exactly been a cakewalk for me either,” I murmur. “Join the club.”
“I shall indeed join this club,” he says with a nod, misunderstanding. “But first I must apologize to you.”
My eyebrows go up.
Thrand takes a deep breath, crossing his arms over his chest. He stares down at his boots like a child for a moment, and then looks up at me. “It is difficult for me to try to be my own…person. All my life, I have been Thrand, a brother a’ani. We are not taught that it is good to be individuals. We are not taught that we should have our own…thoughts. When I think of myself, I see Vordis in my thoughts next to me because it has always been so. It is hard to think of myself without him.”
I study him, frowning. “I’m not sure I follow.” He makes it sound like Vordis is gone, but…that can’t be right. There’s nowhere to go.
He rubs his jaw. “As a’ani, I excel at a few things in particular. I am dedicated to you, of course, but more than that, I excel at competing.”
“And?” I wait, curious. “What does this have to do with me?”
For a moment, he gives me an annoyed look that’s so frustrated and anti-Vordis that I want to laugh in surprise. “I am trying to tell you.”
“Please continue.” I cross my arms over my chest and glance over at Gail out of the corner of my eye, watching Glory. When I’m satisfied she’s safe, I focus on Thrand.
“I am a competitor,” he says. “A’ani are taught that rivalry within our brotherhood is good, accepted. So when Vordis told me he cared for you, I assumed it was something we should compete over.” His expression turns unhappy. “I have made Vordis very angry, because every time he has tried to do something for you, I have made it a contest. I do not like you. Not the way he does. But because I like winning, I have tried to come first anyhow.”
My heart flutters in my chest. “Go on.”
Thrand shrugs. “I simply wished to tell you that he did not make the huts a contest. I did. I saw him building one for you and decided that we would compete. It was never about winning for him. He was doing it because he wanted you to have a home. He says your cave is uncomfortable.”
A little thrill shoots through me. “If it wasn’t a contest, then why is he avoiding me? Why didn’t he come and explain himself?”
The alien’s brow furrows. He looks at me as if I’ve grown another head. “You indicated you did not want that. He is respecting your wishes.”
“Oh.” Well, that sucks. I clear my throat. “You said you don’t feel the same for me like he does. How…how does he feel?” I’m as nervous as a teenager with her first crush as I ask, but I have to know.
“I am protective of you, because of my a’ani dedication. That will never go away.” He puts a hand over his heart and gives me a solemn look. “But Vordis…it is different. When he looks at you, it is with hunger. And when other males look at you, he acts as if he wishes to tear their throats out.”
Is it awful that I’m loving this? I’ve seen that protective look in Vordis’s eye before, and I’m thrilled to hear it’s not my imagination.
“But now that you will not talk to him, I worry he will leave forever.” Thrand’s expression becomes grave. “I would like for you to ask him not to.”
Just like that, the excited fluttering in my heart turns to terror. I clutch the furs around my shoulders tightly. “What do you mean, leave forever?”
Thrand shakes his head. “Vordis has not been the same since the day you confronted us about the huts. The life has gone out of his eyes. He does not want to spar, or spend time with the others. Every day, he retreats more and more. All he wants to do is hunt, now that he has finished your hut. I worry that he will walk along the cliffs and just keep walking. That he will never return.” The look he gives me is mildly accusing. “He has said that he has nothing if he does not have you and Glory.”
Me and Glory? Oh, sweet Vordis. He doesn’t want just me. He wants my baby girl, too. That beautiful, perfect, stubborn, delicious man. “Where is he?”
“Where else would he be? He is in the hut he built for you, preparing to go hunting before dawn.” He shakes his head. “He wears himself thin—”
Thrand keeps talking, but I’m already striding forward to Gail, where she’s retaken her seat next to N’dek. “Can you watch Glory for a bit longer, please?” I try to keep the panic out of my voice. I have to talk to Vordis, right away. I don’t want him to leave. I don’t want this impasse between us to keep going. I just want to kiss him and touch him and be kissed and touched in return.
I want his smile, his laugh. I want to watch him hold Glory. I want us to be a family.
Damn it, I’m going to be really mad at him if he leaves. Tears of anger and frustration prick behind my eyes and I blink them back.
“Of course,” Gail says, a curious look on her face. “Everything all right?”
“Everything’s great,” I hurriedly reassure her. I lean in, kiss Glory’s sweet little brow, and then race out of the gathering, my boots crunching down the beach. I know where the new huts are. I’ve avoided going to that particular part of the beach since that day—which isn’t hard when you have a new baby. You don’t explore much with an infant. But now I’m kicking myself, because I see that all of the little huts are finished, and they’re adorable and sturdy. They stand a foot or so off the ground, built up on a platform on the parts of the beach nearest the cliffs where the ground is more rock than sand. Off of the wooden floor, there are mortared walls made from what looks like a mixture of stones and clay mixed with sand. The roof of the hut is a hide teepee with a smoke-hole at the top and I can see a wisp of smoke floating up from one. That must be where Vordis is. I’m so impressed at the sight of the cozy huts that I just stand there, staring for a moment. Several of the huts are dotted down the beach and as I take another step forward, I hear a low female moan.
And freeze.
That…isn’t coming from Vordis’s hut, is it? Is he seeing someone now that I’ve turned him away? My heart feels like it’s breaking in my chest, and I frantically try to think who was missing from the gathering around the fire.
Even as I stand in front of Vordis’s hut, a rock tumbles and falls nearby, and I turn. A hut a few paces away shudders, and another rock tumbles from the mortar. The female giggle rises again. Curious, I creep over a few steps, and then stop when the wood groans.
“Your hut sucks, dude,” I hear the woman say. “I hope you don’t do everything so half-assed.”
Is that…Bridget?
A male voice replies, too low to understand, and then I hear more giggles and they quickly turn into moans. I tiptoe back away, feeling like a voyeur. Somehow I don’t think that’s Vordis there with her. The rumor was that she was hooking up
with A’tam, so I breathe a sigh of relief and head back toward Vordis’s hut.
In a way, overhearing all that was a good thing. If I want Vordis, I have to make it clear to him where I stand. I don’t want him to leave. I don’t want him to hook up with anyone else. I’m falling for the guy and I want to be the one he smiles to, the one he comes home to. I want to be the one to kiss him.
I want to be his everything. Just like Glory, I can’t imagine my life without him. I used to think that I’d give anything to go back to Earth and the Angie I was before I woke up pregnant on an alien planet. Now? Now I wouldn’t change a thing. I want to be here with Vordis. I want my baby. I want us to be a family.
So I take a deep breath, steel myself for possible rejection, and then scratch at the leather screen covering the entrance to the hut, the Icehome version of knocking. And just because I’m me, I can’t resist adding a “Knock knock,” hoping he’ll pick up my inside joke. That he’ll respond with a “Who’s there” and I can say something clever or sweet like “It’s the woman that loves you”
Instead, he pulls the screen off immediately and his gaze meets mine. Vordis’s expression is instantly worried. “Angie? Is Glory well?”
My heart melts that he’d be so concerned for my little girl. “She’s okay,” I say softly. “I promise. Can I come in and talk?”
Vordis takes a deep breath, visibly relaxing when he hears that Glory’s well. Dear lord, how can I not love this man with all my heart? He moves aside so I can enter, and as I step inside the hut, I’m surprised at how charming it is inside. I thought it would just be a plain hut inside—four walls and nothing else. Instead, it’s wonderful. The floor is shaped into a crude pentagon of sorts, with a hole in the center where the stone-lined fire flickers merrily. Off to one side is puffy, thick bedding that looks far better than the furs I’m sleeping on back in my cave. Another section looks like a work area, with a hide stretched on a frame and several baskets stacked together. There’s even a screened area off in the far end of the hut which I can’t figure out. Inside, though, I thought it’d be smoky, or dark and gloomy like my cave, but it’s cozy and warm and wonderful. Even the floor under my feet feels surprisingly even, and given that it’s made from driftwood, that’s no easy feat.
