by Dixon, Ruby
And then of course, once we got back to camp, all of the other unmated males acted like we'd betrayed them somehow. That night, S'bren won't leave Penny alone, and Thrand watches me from the shadows around the fire as if I've done something wrong. A'tam and Bridget get into another fight, their hissing, angry whispers carrying over the camp before Bridget stomps off again. A'tam follows her and I get up to make sure that Bridget's ok, but Liz grabs my arm and shakes her head. "Let them work it out on their own," she says. "He won't hurt her and if they have a knock-down, drag-out fight, maybe they'll get it out of their systems."
It's an uncomfortable evening for everyone, though.
The next morning, no one wants to go hunting, it seems.
"O'jek invited me to go fishing," Penny tells me apologetically. "He said he can show me a few tricks on how to improve my spear-fishing and it seemed like a good idea."
"It does?" I arch an eyebrow, skeptical. The unmated guys have made it quite clear that they're determined to get a woman, no matter what it takes, and so I trust none of their motives.
Penny blushes and shrugs. "He's nice and he hasn't been a jerk to me. Plus, standing on a rock holding a spear for a few hours sounds nicer than having Rukh tell me I'm too slow as I climb over the seventeenth cliff in an hour."
She's got a point. I wave a hand at her. "Have fun. Let me know if you want to go hunting tomorrow, then."
"Will do! Grab Bridget, maybe?"
I nod and head out, looking for the other in our little hunting triad. Bridget's talking with Gail near the fire, and she's bouncing Z'hren in her arms, making the baby laugh. Her own smile is brilliant, and I'm drawn toward them. I love babies. Maybe it's a reminder of when I was a child and then my sister Serena was born and she seemed like the best doll ever. Maybe it's my khui reminding me that my turn is coming. Whatever it is, I gravitate toward the little guy and when he reaches for me, I pluck him from Bridget's arms and cuddle him close. His camouflage shifts, and then his skin is as dark as mine, and my heart squeezes with affection. "Look at you. You know just how to win a woman." I press a kiss to his forehead, between the tiny buds of his horns.
"Oh yeah," Gail says as she adds a few shrimp to the water boiling over the fire. "Whenever I'm getting exasperated with him, he knows. Shifts colors and then boom. I can't stay mad. He knows how to work me, Vaza says." She gives her head a little shake, smiling. "Like he doesn't know how to work Vaza. Please. That child has all of us wrapped around his little fingers."
I chuckle and slowly shift my weight back and forth in a slow rocking motion as Z'hren reaches for my hair, fascinated. Bridget pokes his belly, leaning in and cooing at him, and I eye her. She's not wearing hunting gear, but what I like to call “camp clothes.” They're a little more comfortable, a little less form-fitting. "I guess you don't want to go hunting, either?"
Her eyes widen in surprise and then she blushes, her face turning bright red. "Me? Oh. Well, I'm not feeling so great this morning so I thought I'd head over and see the healer when she wakes up."
Which means Rukh probably ran her off, too. Now I have no hunting buddies. I hide my disappointment and smile. "I hope you feel better."
"Me too."
"What's bothering you?" Gail asks, coming to our sides. She puts a hand on Bridget's forehead—even though we can't get a fever thanks to the khui—in a total mom gesture. "Want me to make you some special tea? I've got a few herbs that help me perk up when I'm feeling low."
"I'll be okay," Bridget says quickly.
"You sure? You look flushed." Gail's expression is one of concern. "You want something to eat?"
"Really, I just need to rest today," Bridget promises. "In fact, I think I'll go see if Veronica's awake now." She gives us both an apologetic smile, squeezes Gail's shoulder in silent thanks, and then leaves the main gathering area.
Just then, Z'hren grabs a handful of my hair. I'm so focused on detangling his grabby little fist that I don't notice someone's come up behind me until the voice whispers in my ear.
"She is lying to you."
I yelp, jerking in surprise at the sound of Thrand's smooth, deep voice in my ear.
He immediately plucks Z'hren from my arms—not that I'd drop him—and the kid howls with pleasure at the sight of Thrand. I watch, a little irked, as Thrand gives him a small toss into the air and Z'hren squeals with absolute joy. The baby never makes those noises for me, but you'd think Thrand is the best thing since sliced bread by the way the kid is howling with delight.
Even Gail chuckles and shakes her head at him. "Don't toss him too much or he'll puke his breakfast all over you."
"I won't," Thrand says, and tosses him again. "Babies like me."
I roll my eyes at his confidence.
"And I am right about your friend."
"That she's lying? How do you figure?" I give him an impatient look.
"Look at how she walks." He lifts his chin, gesturing up the hill.
I turn and watch Bridget. She's moving slowly, but that could be because the way up to the healer's hut is sloped and sandy. Even so, she seems to be picking at her steps and moving as if she's got the world's most sore muscles. Poor Bridget. "She's new to hunting and Rukh and Farli have both run us ragged the last few days," I explain to him. "It's not so weird."
"She was in A'tam's hut last night," Thrand continues, giving me a sly look.
I can practically feel my eyebrows go to my hairline. "What?!"
Everyone around the fire pauses to look at me. Z'hren makes a sound that's like a “guh!” and shifts colors back to my own dusky skin as if agreeing.
Thrand just laughs.
I lean in closer to him. "You're full of shit. They hate each other."
"My hut is near his. It was not hate I heard last night." He gives me a smug look.
I watch Bridget as she heads up the slope and…is she walking bow-legged? Hmm. She was red-faced but…I can't forget how much they've both argued like hissing cats over the last while. "No way."
"Yes, it is way," Thrand says. "Perhaps he is quite good at apologizing."
I shoot him a look.
"Are you hunting this day?" he asks, switching topics suddenly. "I would go with you."
Alone with Thrand? All day? That seems…like a really bad idea. "I was just about to grab Rukh, actually," I lie. I hadn't been planning on going anywhere with Rukh, but something about being alone all day with Thrand makes me rethink things.
"I can go—"
"You weren't invited," I point out sweetly, and then leave. I'm strangely disappointed when he doesn't follow me. When I finally turn to look around, he's talking to Gail, their heads bent over Z'hren, and he laughs again.
I have no idea why that irritates me so much. How does Thrand manage to crawl under my skin with the smallest of actions? God, I really need to let this go. He’s a tribesmate, nothing more. He’s just another guy desperate to get himself a mate and has happened to focus on me occasionally. I should treat him like I do R’jaal—with patience and kindness.
But the guy just irks me.
I pace through the encampment, heading for Rukh's tent. He stands out front, his son at his side, and to my surprise, he's also talking to Mari. She has her arms crossed in front of her chest and she looks as if she'd like nothing more than to run away. I hesitate as I approach. "Is this a bad time?"
Rukh waves me forward. "Good. You are here. We hunt today with Mar-ee and my son."
Rukhar just watches me with the same wary look his father reserves for strangers. I smile at him, determined to win him over. I remember Thrand's boast. Children like me. Well, they fucking like me, too, damn it.
Then I realize I'm competing with him over something as small and silly as that. God, I need help.
"It's just me today," I admit as I approach. "Penny and Bridget are busy." I give Marisol a nod. "But looks like we've got a full group anyhow."
Her eyes are big in her face and she chews on her lip. Her entire body is tense, and I remember
the early days when she hid constantly. She's a nervous one, Marisol. I can't figure her out. But she just nods and sucks in a deep breath. "I need to learn," she admits. "I want to be useful."
"That's what we're here for," I say with a pat on her shoulder. In a way, it's a good thing both Marisol and little Rukhar will be with us. It means Rukh might be more patient with us as a group.
5
NADINE
A few hours later, I'm regretting ever thinking such a thing.
Did I think Rukh would take it easy on us if Marisol was new to things and Rukhar was small? Turns out Rukhar is faster and more agile than his big father, and for a scaredy-cat, Marisol is an incredibly good climber. I'm the dead weight in this group, and I try not to let it bring me down as we haul ass up another narrow, winding ridge, trailing behind a herd of dvisti that were in a nearby canyon yesterday and have moved on.
While I catch my breath at the top of the ridge, Marisol leans on her spear and gazes out onto the horizon. She's quiet, quieter than Rukh even, and it makes for a long day. I'm used to chatty conversations with Penny and Bridget, laughing as we follow tracks and check our regular haunts. Funny how hunting can be so different with different people. Even Rukhar takes this all so incredibly seriously, his little spear clutched in his hand tightly as if he's in charge of the hunting party and not his father.
"Papa," he says after a long moment, and moves toward a bit of churned snow on the far side of the ridge.
Rukh gives a grunt of approval and touches the boy's head, and I can see Rukhar practically beam with pleasure, his little body straightening with pride.
"This way?" I ask as they start to head along the top of the ridge.
No one answers me. They just keep walking, so I fall into pace behind them. I know Rukh's not a big talker. He's one of the hunters that values silence over conversation, because he thinks the game gets scared off by loud voices. Maybe they do, but I'd still rather have a day of friendly conversation than a day of silent climbing.
We travel along the top of the ridge for a while, following the churned snow. Mari picks up the occasional frozen puck of dvisti poop for fuel, putting it into a bag at her side and Rukh gives her a silent nod of approval, too. I'm glad she's keeping up, but I can't help but feel like I'm the one dragging the group down. I hate that. I like being the strong one, the one nobody has to look after or check in on. I don't like being the weak link.
The tracks head down into the canyon below at a gentle slope on one part of the cliffs, and I fully expect us to go down after them. I'm surprised when Rukh touches Rukhar's shoulder and both of them crouch near the top of the hill, waiting. Mari pauses behind them and gives me an uncertain look.
"Why are we stopping?" I ask, curious.
Rukh turns and gives me an odd look. "The game is gone. Dvisti ran off." He waves a hand in the air. "Wind changed. They smell your friend."
"My friend?" I look at Mari and for a moment, I'm shocked that Rukh would be so rude as to single her out.
"Thrand," Rukh bites out. "He follows behind."
He what? I realize my jaw is hanging open and snap it shut, then turn and look behind us, scanning the horizon. Sure enough, there's a figure about a football field's distance behind us below in the canyon, covered in pale furs. As I watch him move, I know it's Thrand just from the way he carries himself, but I still stare in disbelief until I see a flash of red skin.
"What is that dipshit doing?"
"If he is coming, tell him to hurry. Either join us or not." Rukh looks impatient, and even Rukhar shoots me a look as if he's not pleased with me either.
Mari chews nervously on her lip, watching me. "Should I go say something?"
"No. You stay here." I pat her shoulder. "I can handle this bozo." And I slide carefully down the side of the snowy canyon until I hit the bottom, and then jog my way toward him.
I cuss him out and call him all kinds of things in my head. Idiot. Fool. Nincompoop. Nitwit. Dumbass. Headstrong. Meathead. I can't believe we've been tracking the dvisti herd all day and he's scared them off. I know why he's here. He wanted to come with me and I said no, so he decided he'd show up anyhow. I add “stubborn” to the list of insults.
All of those insults die in my head when I get close enough to see his face and he breaks out into a huge, welcoming, sexy smile. I hate that he manages to look so damn good even when he's so infuriating. Both clones are attractive but Thrand's personality shines when he smiles, and I hate that it makes my stomach flutter in response. "Why are you here?" I ask him. "You weren't invited!"
Thrand just gives me an arch look. "I am hunting, too."
"You're following us!"
"No, we are just going in the same direction." He grins again, showing his fangs. "It is quite lucky for us to run into one another, isn't it?"
"Luck, huh?" I snort. "Can you find some other trail? Rukh's getting pissed because you're scaring off the game."
He glances up at the forms on the distant ridge, the three of them watching us. Then, he turns back to me and his laughing expression turns serious. "Will you hunt with me? I would like the chance to talk to you."
"Is that why you came out here?"
"Yes."
I'm taken aback—and a little oddly pleased—at his sincerity. He could have played more silly games, kept being a tease about it, but instead, he 'fessed up. I like that about him. And it makes me curious as to what he wants to talk to me about. "I…I guess we can go and check some of the traps. Let me talk to the others. Unless you want to join us?"
"I did not come out here to see them," Thrand replies, his gaze intense as he watches me.
Despite the fact that I'm sweaty and covered in layers of fur, I shiver. That look…good lord. Maybe I'm an idiot for deciding I'm going to go along with him, but my curiosity is killing me. I want to know what he wants to talk about. So I head back up the ridge and over to Mari, Rukh, and Rukhar. "Is it okay with you guys if I head off with him? We can go check a few of the traps closer to camp and stay out of your way."
Rukh nods and gets to his feet. "Downwind," he says. "Not upwind where everything can smell you."
"Downwind," I promise. "Will you guys be okay without me? I don't want to ruin the hunt."
Rukh snorts. "We are fine."
Damn. There goes my pride. I give Mari an apologetic look, wondering if she's going to feel awkward if I leave her behind. If she is, I'll stay. I wouldn't want her to feel abandoned. But Marisol's expression is calm, unbothered. She doesn't look worried in the slightest, so I feel better about ditching them. "I'll see you guys back at camp tonight, then." I wave at them and then head back down to Thrand's side. I'm oddly alert and ever so slightly on edge as I rejoin him. He's got his spear at his side and he wears his hunting knives at his belt, which tells me he really is hunting, but there's a look in his eye that tells me he had an ulterior motive coming out here.
He deliberately followed us. I want to know why.
I'm not afraid of him, of course. The men on this planet have made it very clear that they're far more interested in getting a female to like them than to force affection. I don't even know if it's ever occurred to them what things like “rape” and “assault” are. Can they be obnoxiously hard-headed when it comes to women? Oh hell yes. But I don't feel afraid for my safety. Even so, I'm a little wary of Thrand. "This isn't some sketchy demand to ask me to be your woman again, is it? Because if so, I'll just catch up with the others right now."
Thrand shakes his head. "That is not why I am here."
"Then why are you here?"
He thinks for a minute as we walk back the way he came. Then, he glances over at me, his expression completely serious. "I would tell you about a'ani. Clones."
That throws me for a loop. He wants to tell me about his people? "Why?"
"So you can understand me." He gestures at his face. "So you know what makes Thrand who he is."
He's not laughing, and his normal teasing smile is utterly gone. I admit, I'm
hooked. I want to hear more. "All right, then," I say. "But let's get downwind first, okay?"
We're silent as we move over the biggest ridge and head along the rocks, back toward the distant beach camp. There's a line of traps in this direction, but I don't think either one of us is all that interested in what they contain. I'm very aware of his nearness, the strength in his body as he moves effortlessly through even the deepest drifts of snow. He's strong and powerful and self-assured, and even though he's a pain in my ass, I find that incredibly attractive.
Out of all the men at the Icehome beach camp, I find Thrand the most beautiful.
He’s also the biggest pain in my butt. He’s hard-headed and stubborn and irritatingly single-minded. He acts like I should be falling at his feet just because he made a hut and decided it should be mine since Angie didn’t want it.
I’m not interested in scraps. No thanks.
Thinking about all the reasons Thrand irritates me helps my brain focus, though. When we pause, I’m no longer noticing how fine his form is, I’m now noticing how he’s got that little smug smile on his lips once more.
“What?” I demand.
“I bet my traps have at least one animal in them,” he says. “And probably more game than yours do.”
It’s the most ridiculous—and most Thrand—thing to say. I start laughing, shaking my head at his arrogance. “Is everything a contest with you?”
Thrand looks thoughtful, taking a long time to answer. “Sometimes, yes,” he admits. “But it is because of my upbringing. Your people do not have clones, do they? A’ani?”
“Not yet,” I admit. “Though we might be heading there in the future.”
“Hope that you do not.” His expression is grim. “The only a’ani that exist are now those of us that are cloned. We are used as cheap labor, a disposable slave who is not expected to last the lifetime of a project. We are sold from owner to owner and given all kinds of despicable jobs. I have been a soldier, a prison guard, and a gladiator many times over. I remember no life other than this, and all through these years, Vordis has been at my side. We are from the same batch of clones, raised in the same laboratory barracks, and sold to the same masters over and over again. We worked well together and we have lived longer than most, I think, because we are so competitive. There is a joke amongst our masters that to get a clone to work hard, you give him something to strive for. When we were gladiators, we were told we could be given a female if we won enough tournaments.”
