Nadine's Champion: A Sci-Fi Alien Romance (Icehome Book 8)

by Dixon, Ruby

  Penny nods, a sympathetic look on her face. “We’re trying to get away from camp drama, not bring it with us.”

  “I can totally get that. I just want to breathe for a few hours. I promise, no more mentions of anyone.” She crosses her heart and gives us a pleading look. “Please?”

  “Get your boots on,” I tell her, waving a hand.

  The look of sheer relief on Bridget’s face tells me that she needs this more than she let on. She races toward her bunk and frantically throws her wraps on, while Penny and I exchange a look. I shrug. She needs it, so we can be there for her…as long as she doesn’t talk about A’tam.

  I finish putting on my leathers and grab my hunting kit. I have a short knife in there with a bone handle, a fire-making kit, extra rope and sinew, some fish hooks, and a couple extra spearheads in case something breaks. My spear’s propped up against the wall, and so I go and grab it, shrugging on my thickest fur wrap with holes for the arms. It’s fairly temperate down here on the beach, but the moment you go up the cliffs, it feels as if the temperature drops and the wind eats you alive.

  “Ready,” Bridget calls a few moments later, and she’s got her spear and her heavy wraps on. “I think Liz was smoking some meat by the fire if we want to grab some for lunches?”

  “Sure. We should probably tell them we’re heading out, anyhow.”

  Penny nods, a smile on her face. “Also, be prepared for us not to catch anything, Bridge. This is our first time heading out without Cashol, so I have no idea how good we’ll be without a guide.”

  “We’ll be fine,” I reassure them. “Everyone has to learn to stand on their own two feet at some point.”

  When we get to the fire, though, Liz is off feeding her new baby and instead it’s R’jaal who’s tending to the meat. There’s a basket full of cooked strips at his side, so Penny nudges me. I don’t hesitate before I approach. “Hey there. We’re about to head out hunting. Can we steal some of that meat if we promise to bring some fresh back?”

  The Tall Horn clan leader rises to his full height—and with those enormous horns, he towers over the three of us. His camouflage shifts for a moment, and then he glances behind me. “Who is hunting with you?”

  “It’s me, Penny and Bridge.”

  “Hi,” Penny and Bridget chime in. Bridget waves.

  R’jaal frowns at me. “No, I do not think so.”

  I put a hand on my hip. “What do you mean, no?”

  “You are all life bearers. You will not go out alone.” He grabs another rack of smoked meat off the fire and pulls it to his side.

  “Ice planet?” Penny murmurs in a low voice. “More like sexism planet, am I right?”

  Bridget snorts. “You’re telling me.”

  I refuse to be put off by R’jaal’s attitude, though. “Cashol used to go hunting with us and he taught us everything we know. It’s not our fault he went home to his family.”

  “I said no,” R’jaal replies. “I am certain that R’hosh would agree with me.”

  “You mean to tell me that you’d rather have three able-bodied women just sitting around camp on our asses instead of helping out?”

  “I did not say that,” R’jaal continues, pulling dried meat from the stick. “I said that you must not go alone. I think it is a good idea to hunt, but bring an experienced hunter with you. Shall I find a male that has not yet gone out to hunt?”

  Out of the corner of my eye, I see Bridget clutch at Penny’s arm and shake her head violently. I know what that means from Bridget’s reaction—she knows A’tam’s somewhere around camp and wants to avoid him.

  “I’ll find someone,” I tell R’jaal. “Unless you want to go with us?” I toss my hair ever so slightly and give him a winning smile. Normally R’jaal’s a soft touch when it comes to the girls, especially the unmated ones. He watches us all like Devi watches her morning cup of shrimp tea. But I can handle R’jaal. He’s mostly quiet, doesn’t get on my nerves, and won’t spend all day being a prick.

  Well, theoretically. He’s kind of being an ass right now.

  “I am busy. But tell me before you head out, N’deen,” R’jaal says with a nod. “I will give you all the meat you want, then.” And he carefully takes my spear from my hand so I can’t go off hunting without his approval.

  Right. I look at the two waiting behind me, and then indicate that Bridget and Penny should follow me. We head off to the side to have a quick meeting.

  “I can’t decide if that was alpha male of him or douchebag of him,” Bridget admits, whispering as she leans in close to me and Penny.

  “I’m leaning toward douchebag,” Penny says.

  “It’s fine.” Ever the peacemaker, I suppose I do understand R’jaal’s point. All the women on the island died out and the last one to survive their volcanic eruption died in a hunting accident. I understand the whole “vaginas must be protected” thing even if it does put a crimp in my plans. “So who’s still at camp that we can bring with us?”

  “Ho, females,” calls a familiar voice.

  I grit my teeth, closing my eyes. That’s Thrand’s voice. Or Vordis, but something tells me he’s not the one to call out to us. Sure enough, when I look up, I notice that it’s Thrand’s cocky bearing, Thrand’s devilish smile, and Thrand’s quick step as he heads in our direction.

  “We could—” Bridget begins.

  “No,” I say. “Anyone but him.”

  “P’nee,” another shouts from a distance. It’s S’bren. “I have dunked myself in the sea as you said. Now will you come and fish with me?”

  Penny pinches the bridge of her nose. “God help me get away from this camp before I do something I regret.”

  Bridget stifles a horrified giggle as Thrand saunters up to us.

  “Hello, females. Are you hunting?” He cocks an eyebrow in our direction. “Shall I show you my prowess? I bet I can catch more—”

  “We’re not hunting,” I say quickly, grabbing Penny and Bridget by the arm and moving away from Thrand. “We’re uh, about to go out and gather feminine hygiene products for our periods.”

  Bridget just giggles even more. “Yeah, we’re totally bleeding all over the place.”

  If a man with bright red skin could go pale, Thrand would be bleached out right about now. “You—you are bleeding?” He sends a panicked look in my direction. “Where? Should I get the healer?”

  Something tells me that female clones are few and far between. “It’s normal. Girl stuff.” I give him a wink as if sharing a secret with him. “I promise it’s fine.”

  He looks uncertain, and for a moment I feel guilty for making him worry. “If you are certain…”

  “Here comes M’tok,” Bridget hisses. “Let’s grab him.”

  “Certain,” I promise with a wave, and then let Penny and Bridget drag me away. I can’t get over how guilty I feel about Thrand’s reaction. Normally if you tell a guy you’re menstruating, they can’t wait to get away from you. Thrand actually looked worried for my health, like the thought of me bleeding was distressing to him. I’ll talk to him later, I decide, glancing backward at him one last time. He watches us from afar as Penny drags me along, her hand in mine.

  Bridget approaches M’tok and he’s not interested in going to hunt with us. At all. I’m not surprised—he resonated to Callie and so he has no use for us. Babysitting a bunch of women as they hunt probably doesn’t sound like his idea of fun.

  But then Bridget shows she’s more wily than I thought. “We can talk about Callie,” Bridget offers. “Maybe give you some suggestions on where you’re going wrong.”

  “I will get my spear,” he says immediately.

  And just like that, we have a hunting buddy. I should be thrilled. M’tok won’t hit on us. M’tok won’t spend the day asking someone to be his female or wondering what orifice we’re bleeding from and if he needs to step in and save us from ourselves. Even so, I can’t help but steal another glance back at Thrand.

  I shouldn’t feel guilty. He’s mad
e it quite clear he’s not interested in friendship. He wants a female.

  Remembering that makes it a lot easier to head out with the others.

  4

  THRAND

  "I do not understand why she avoids me," I complain to Angie and my brother Vordis. "Was I not spectacular in the games? Did I not win many points for my team?"

  "You were great," Angie soothes, lifting her baby up and holding it out to me. 'Hold Glory while I get a fresh diaper for her."

  I take the baby, grimacing at the stink wafting off of her. "Why am I holding her when her father is not?"

  Vordis just smirks and looks very busy mending his nets. He sits cross-legged on the floor of the hut across from Angie and myself, and I scowl in his direction.

  "As for the games," Angie says, getting to her feet, "you did great. Almost as good as N'dek."

  "Almost," Vordis whispers, just to irritate me.

  Glory coos and kicks her legs, and the smell grows worse. I hold her at arm's length, averting my face, but then her wraps start to slide down her legs and I'm forced to hold her properly. The stink will now never come out of my leathers. I fight back the urge to gag. "What have you been feeding this child?"

  Angie chuckles and comes to my rescue. "Breast milk? But I think she's just a little bit of a stinky baby. Aren't you, precious?" She squeezes up her mouth and makes pucker faces at the child, much to the delight of Glory, who thrashes with glee in my arms. Normally I like holding the child, imagining that she is my own—our red skins match, after all—but not when she is obviously sick. Or parts of her are sick. The bottom parts. "In all seriousness," Angie continues, "It might be something I ate. I'm going to talk to Veronica about it. Maybe Liz has suggestions. Food allergies are a thing back home, you know."

  I hand Glory over to Angie once more, and then grab the pitcher of water and pour some over my hands to wash them while Vordis laughs at my reaction. "I did not come here to talk about food problems or Glory's diapers. I wanted to talk about Nadine."

  "So impatient," Vordis murmurs.

  I scowl at my brother clone. Ever since he mated to Angie, he has been calm and centered, as if all of the anger and frustration in him has been settled by a few nights between her thighs. It just makes me all the more irritated at him. "I was good at the games," I state again. "Better than N'dek. But she does not seem to care."

  "I can tell you exactly what it is," Angie says as she lays Glory down on the blankets and begins the arduous, messy process of changing her leathers. I watch with a fascinated—and slightly horrified—expression. Babies are filthy, messy creatures. I want one…and I am terrified of them, too. As a clone, I have never been close to one. Glory is a mystery to me, especially the happy, gummy smile on her face as she holds her tiny toes and shows her mother her smeared bottom. And Angie acts delighted, as if the foul stench wafting from such a small creature is something to be proud of.

  "What is it, then?"

  Angie glances over at me as she wipes Glory clean. "Hand me that pitcher of water?"

  I do, and when she does not continue, I prompt her again. "Well?"

  "Well, for one, Vordis is right. You're terribly impatient," Angie says in her sweet, easy voice.

  Vordis just snorts with amusement, his fingers flying as he mends the net.

  "Silence," I tell Vordis, and lean in closer to Angie. "Besides impatience. What do you think bothers her?"

  Angie finishes her task, carefully wrapping the dirty leathers in a bundle and tossing them into a basket. She tickles Glory's bare belly and is rewarded with a charming coo that makes me pause, distracted. No wonder she endures the stench. When she is happy, Glory is possibly the most adorable thing I have ever seen. For a moment, I am starkly envious of my happy brother and his mate. Not only do they have Glory, but they recently resonated and will have a second child. And I cannot even go hunting with my chosen female.

  Truly, the fates have looked upon us and smiled upon only one clone.

  "It's me," Angie says simply, picking Glory up again and settling her against her chest. She turns to look at me and gives me an awkward smile. "You made it clear when you and Vordis first got here that you were fighting over me. She probably thinks that she's second choice and no woman likes that."

  Second choice? But there was never a choice to be made when it came to Angie. I was dedicated to her, just as Vordis was. My thoughts had been reprogrammed by my last master to prioritize Angie above all other things. Of course I was fixated on her. "But I was dedicated," I protest. "I still am, though the urge eases with every passing day."

  "Because I'm safe?" Angie asks, curious.

  "Because of this, most likely," Vordis adds, and taps his chest, indicating his khui. It hums and vibrates when his mate sits next to him, as if calling to her.

  I grunt. I do not think he is wrong. So many small things have changed since arriving here and taking on the khui. Vordis has resonated, and while I have not, I have noticed other changes. Both of our dark eyes are now bright blue from the khui's presence, the weather affects us less, and the old pain in my left knee from torn ligaments—an old arena injury—no longer wakes me up at night. The khui is changing us all.

  "She might not even understand what it means when you say you were 'dedicated,'" Angie explains gently. "It took me a while to understand it myself. She's not a clone. She's a human. Our world is very different from yours."

  I think back to Nadine on the beach this morning. How she gazed at me for a long moment, and then turned and joined M'tok and the others. Even now, the memory still makes me feel helpless and angry. "How do I let her know how I feel if she will not talk to me? I offered to go hunting this morning with her and the other females," I admit. "She said no and made M'tok come with them instead."

  "M'tok is safe." Angie watches Vordis as he works, a small smile on her lips as if just his presence pleases her. "He's already resonated to someone else so he's not a problem to them. I wouldn't be surprised if they deliberately picked someone that wouldn't hit on them."

  "I would never hit a female," I tell her, offended. "Not even if she was in the arena with me."

  "Hit on means flirt, tease, swear affection for, demand kisses, et cetera." Angie's look turns exasperated. "Did you try talking to her? Just like, saying hello and asking how her day is?"

  "I have." I think back to the day on the beach, when we ran together. Her smile was so wide then, and she did not even seem to care that she did not win the race.

  Her smile brightens. "Great, how did that go?"

  I think of Nadine and how her smile faded when I asked her to be my mate. "I hitted on her," I admit. "I told her I wanted her."

  Angie just sighs.

  "Perhaps next time, you just talk to her of things she wishes to talk about," Vordis offers. "Let her choose the topics and you simply listen."

  "Oh, as if you are the expert," I scoff.

  Angie gives her mate another easy smile. "But he's a great listener, and sometimes a girl appreciates that."

  I grunt. Perhaps they are right. Perhaps I need to trick Nadine with conversations about simple things…and then I will demand for her to be my mate. "Trickery," I nod. "Wait until her guard is down and then claim her." I wag a finger at Angie. "Very, very clever."

  She just sighs. "I'm sorry I even tried to help."

  * * *

  NADINE

  As the days pass, it becomes harder and harder to become an efficient part of this ridiculous tribe. Because Penny, Bridget, and I are female, we have to have a male escort every time we leave camp. No one thinks we can handle things on our own, and even Liz just shrugs when we suggest it.

  “I’m not a sexist,” she tells me when I broach the subject. “But it’s different out here. Trust Raahosh and R’jaal when they say you need an experienced hunter with you. Don’t be stupid and run off on your own, either.”

  I’m a practical sort, so I have no plans of getting myself killed. Like it or not, I’ll drag an escort along o
n the hunting trips. It’s just…finding the right escort that’s the problem.

  We can't seem to find the right person to go hunting with us. After two excursions, M'tok no longer wants to go. I guess we're not giving him the secret sauce that will make Callie fall in love with him—or at least hate him a little less—and so he loses interest. Plus, she's not jealous of the fact he's spending time with us, Bridget points out, so he suddenly becomes really busy when we start looking for a hunting buddy. Which is fine. M'tok's a little bossy and impatient with our clumsiness, and with Bridget most of all, who's just now learning the ropes when it comes to hunting.

  We go out with Farli once. Just once. We foolishly thought that since Farli was a girl, she'd be easy to hang out with. Instead, she ran us ragged. The island hunters aren't quite as used to the cold weather and so they take their time moving across the icy cliffs, just like we do. Farli gallops over them as if she's some sort of mountain goat, fearless and swift, and we spend the entire day trying to keep up with her effortless speed.

  After that, no one wants to go hunting with Farli. We don't have the stamina.

  Rukh takes us out once, but he's even more impatient than Farli when we talk as we hike. He thinks we should go out in perfect silence so as not to scare any game away—never mind that our snowshoes crunch on the snow and we don't move swiftly at all.

  So yeah, it's definitely been a struggle. I suddenly have a new appreciation for how kind and patient Cashol was. He knew we were new to the landscape and to hunting, and never made us feel like we were taking up his time.

  Yesterday, we went out with R'jaal, but going out with one of the unmated men proves to be a bad idea. He eyeballs each of us as if waiting for our khuis to start singing in resonance, and he spent most of the day more interested in learning about human women than teaching us how to look for tracks or set traps. He wanted to talk about human courting, and kissing, and if we had a lot of men back home that were brave warriors, and if we had ever been mated before, and if any women in the tribe were interested in a “strong male with tall horns.” Eyeroll. He watched us, rubbing his chest, an expectant look in his eyes that made us all really uncomfortable.