by Alexa Black
Or even to behold. Not really. Not without an occasion, an event, world-shattering news that would change the lives of puny humans forever. She’d heard their song before, and that was more of a blessing than she would ever deserve.
“I’m sorry,” she said, closing her eyes and lowering her head.
Kara’s humming faded. Sue thought she heard a choked little gasp at the end, but that couldn’t be possible. Couldn’t have happened. No noise like that could come from the throat of so perfect a being. Even Sue’s own breath was too loud in the silence.
Kara’s voice startled Sue into opening her eyes again. “Now you understand.”
“I don’t belong here at all.”
Kara reached out a hand to cup Sue’s chin. The rich brown had drained from it, leaving the familiar dark gray, and a bright scar marred the back of it.
That, at least, was familiar. Those, at least, were flaws.
“I would not have brought you,” Kara said, “if I didn’t think you could belong.”
“And I’m supposed to thank you? After you showed me…whatever that was? Made me feel like I don’t even belong in the same galaxy as you, much less the same room?”
“I could have killed you, Sue Jones. Most of us would have. Your ship crashed. A perfect excuse, if any of us needed one.”
Sue shivered. “And then?”
“That depends.” Kara’s grip tightened on Sue’s chin. Sue froze, fearing the claws’ prick. “Most of us wouldn’t care, not after the intruder had been dealt with.”
Dealt with.
“An Outcast like that would just leave your soul to wander,” Kara finished.
That didn’t sound good. “Just leave me down there?”
“Sift through your memories for sins enough to take you to the surface. Then do it. To them, it would be a novelty.”
Sue shuddered. Kara let go of her chin and made a gesture of disgust.
“And you didn’t. I get it. But then what was all that singing about?”
“You are a human. A mortal. I am—” Kara looked down at herself, at her gray skin, the network of cracks torn in it, “something beyond you.”
Sue put a hand to her head. “That’s why you think of me as a pet.”
“That is why the others do.”
“And that’s what you want me to be.”
Kara fixed Sue with a fiery gaze and swept it over her body in unmistakable appraisal. “Did you think I didn’t enjoy what just passed between us?”
“You’re saying that if I want to stay with you, if I want you to touch me, if I want what just passed between us to happen again, I have to accept that I’m a possession?” Sue put her hands on her hips, her meekness forgotten.
Kara growled. Her hands twitched, and Sue slid to the edge of the cot and glanced toward the exit.
But Kara only sighed. “If you want to walk among us, to see the Rings, to behold our world from the proper place above, rather than below—”
“I have to do it as your pet.”
“Yes.”
“Otherwise you’ll kill me. Some choice.”
The shadows around Kara stirred. “Otherwise the other Outcasts might try.”
Chapter Eleven
Sue walked behind Kara, staying a careful pace behind. Ordinarily, she might have liked the view. As lurid as Kara’s scar was and as much as her shadows hid, her back was shapely. So was her rear end.
But staring at a demon’s cute ass didn’t make up for trailing behind her like a slave or a toy. She looked down, her face hot with embarrassment. Her bad leg trailed behind her, and she knew she should focus on standing straighter, but this whole damned business of belonging to Kara made her so angry she couldn’t bring herself to focus on it.
Which makes it easier to limp along behind her anyway. Sue chewed her lip in frustration. But there wasn’t much she could do about it. Not if Kara was right.
The words rang in her head. The other Outcasts might try. She thought of their curious faces, their blazing eyes. Some had looked surprised, amused, entertained even. Others had been angry.
And they were staring at her now. They fixed her with the same gazes as before, some curious, some angry. As before, their phantom wings moved behind them, kaleidoscopes of energetic shadow. But now she noticed something else: just how many of them were looking at Kara. They stared at Sue, yes, but they also stared at Kara, their eyes wide with disbelief, amusement, or disgust.
Some looked from Kara to Sue and back again with knowing little grins, as if they knew something. Sue scowled, but given what had passed between her and Kara the other night, she guessed maybe they did.
Why save me, when everyone looks at me like that?
But at least Sue got to gawk at the shops again. And this time, Kara hadn’t just dumped a bowl of Glowy Nutritious Drink in front of Sue. This time, she’d led her through the gawking crowds to one of the restaurants and sat down at one of the bars. Then, with an exaggerated imperious gesture and what Sue had come to recognize as a flap of phantom wings, she’d ordered Sue to sit beside her.
Sue had obeyed, of course. But not without a sideways little smirk. Scared as she was, if Kara was going to be that overdramatic, Sue was going to laugh at it when she could.
The bartender—or waitress, or vendor, or whatever the hell you called the giant demon who sold you breakfast—was tall, taller than Kara. Slim, straight horns rose high above her head. She leaned down to peer at Sue, her eyes such a pale yellow they glowed almost white.
Almost. Because whatever god or being had banished them wanted to keep white for itself. Sue couldn’t help but feel angry about that, even though she probably wasn’t supposed to.
She thought of the old churches with a pang. She’d never liked them before, but she would like them even less now. Listen to them talking about demons and soul-stealers wanting to drag you to hell and think no, wait, that’s not how it is, not really. They build cities, just like us.
Whether the Outcasts were evil or not, she had a feeling being here had ruined all that for her forever.
If she ever got back home, anyway.
“So this is your human.”
“Yes.” Kara made sound deep in her throat. “Her name is Sue. And she is hungry. As am I.”
The other Outcast inclined her head, pointing her horns at the floor in an appeasing gesture. “Of course, warrior. What would you like?”
Kara made another guttural sound. But this one wasn’t threatening. Must be the name of the food. Sue chuckled, wondering if her throat could even make that noise.
Then she blinked. She’d understood everything else they’d said. Had they been speaking English? Or did they just have some mysterious way to make sure lesser creatures understood? If they did, this stuff didn’t have a name in English, or Human, or whatever.
It made her think of old legends. Wasn’t there some myth that said angels or immortals ate different food than humans did?
She didn’t have time to wonder too much about it. The other Outcast was already talking to Kara again. “And for your creature?”
Creature. Sue lowered her head so the woman wouldn’t see her getting angry. It would probably look deferential too. Which only made Sue madder, but would help.
Kara rescued her. “She tolerated—” Kara made another guttural sound Sue couldn’t copy.
“Of course she did,” the bartender said. She leaned over and sniffed at Sue, like Dehek had. “But she is not injured, or unwell. I know only a little about living humans. But I suspect one of them could tolerate something more interesting.”
Sue’s head snapped up. She didn’t like the woman’s tone at all. “It tasted good. And I’d crashed my ship. Kara was just trying to make sure I was all right.”
“Of course, of course,” the waitress repeated, with a little twist of her mouth. The line between her lips glowed with her inner light. “I’m sure Kara did everything possible to keep you comfortable, little one.”
Sue knew Kara wou
ld growl before she heard it. Hell, she kind of wished she could make that noise herself. But it did make her curious. What did that mean? Did Kara do this kind of thing often? She’d said there were other souls, human souls, down on the planet below.
Had she ever…?
A dull sound snapped Sue out of her reverie. She looked up to see a black bowl in front of her, filled not with cool blue liquid but with something misty red. She leaned down to smell it. Probably a weird thing to do back home, but the demons sniffed everything, so why shouldn’t she?
It smelled like spices, a whole rush of them, filling her nostrils all at once. Cinnamon, cardamom, pepper, and something fiercer that made her wrinkle her nose. She could have sworn she heard a pop, the kind that came from crackling fires, and when she closed her eyes she saw colors: white, red, orange, yellow.
Does this thing really smell like spices, or is that just all I can imagine it does?
When she opened her eyes again, Kara was watching her. “Is that wise, Saja?”
“It’s just a human, Kara. It will be fine.”
Just a human. Sue lifted the bowl to her lips, maybe out of defiance, maybe out of curiosity. She took a tiny sip, careful lest it sear her.
It pricked her tongue like pepper, little embers in her mouth. It filled her mouth with warmth, crackling and exciting. She put the bowl down, swallowed, waited for her mouth to clear, and nodded to Kara.
Kara smiled. “Well.”
Sue hadn’t realized how hungry she was. She’d liked the drink from before, cool, minty, and refreshing. But this tingled through her veins, intense and exciting.
Which might be a problem, but she wasn’t sure how much she cared. Not with Kara there to watch over her. She glanced over at Kara and drank deeper, bracing for the burst of heat and grinning when it came.
Kara’s voice was a low note, a soft and reassuring darkness against the blaze of light. “What makes you so interested in my human?”
“I heard from Dehek about your little scuffle the other day, and I wanted to see your little beast for myself.”
Little beast. Was that what Kara thought of her? What her song was all about? Sue blinked, and a riot of color disappeared behind her eyes. The waitress seemed friendly enough, but she was still a demon. And Sue could only trust one of them.
Saja sniffed at Sue like Dehek had. She reached out narrow fingers with long claws and buried them in Sue’s hair.
Sue froze, shocked fully awake now and not daring to move. The other Outcasts might try.
Kara growled. “That is mine.”
Sue felt herself flush, but she couldn’t tell whether she was feeling indignation or desire. Or even just the last aftertaste of the spicy drink. Who knew what fallen angels put in their food?
But the way Kara said those words, that growl in her hollow voice, a beast ready to rend and tear at any threat to her property…Sue felt the warmth pool in her sex, and cursed herself for a damn fool.
“I mean no disrespect, warrior. But what you have here is a living human.” The claws curled against Sue’s scalp and she winced, afraid of being pricked. “And her hair is a mess.”
“What?” Sue wasn’t sure if she’d said it or if Kara had.
“This creature isn’t one of us, and you’re not caring for it properly.”
“Wait!” Somehow, as angry as Kara made Sue, hearing someone else talk like Kara didn’t know what she was doing made her bristle.
Saja ignored her. “Look at its hair.” She pinched at a lock of it, not gently, and held it up. “It’s tangled and greasy.”
Before Sue had a chance to react, she swiped out with her other hand. Sue saw light gleam on the claw as it swiped at her. She froze. But the claw only cut through the offending lock of hair and left it hanging in Saja’s hand.
“Did you have to do that?”
But Saja ignored Sue and dropped the lock of hair in front of Kara on the table. “See? Oily and tangled.” The hand still in Sue’s hair pinched at her scalp.
Kara growled. Sue held still, but bit her lip in a small gesture of defiance. Fighting back might get her scalp torn up, but at least she could show Kara how it felt.
“You really should cut it off,” Saja said. “Or at least learn to tend it. Have you never cared for a creature with fur before?”
Kara didn’t answer her. Instead, she looked sidelong at Sue. “Have I neglected you?”
“Take your hands off me.” Sue glared as best she could at Saja, emboldened now that she wasn’t going to tear the rest of Sue’s scalp out. “Then I’ll tell you.”
Saja ripped her hand away, not bothering to be gentle. The claws stung. Sue bit her lip, determined not to show either of them how fragile she was. Saja seemed friendly enough, but she had been talking to Dehek, after all.
Sue didn’t look at Saja. Only at Kara. “She’s right. It needs a good washing and combing. Your soap works well enough to wash it, but I need something to comb it with or it’s just going to tangle.” She cleared her throat. “Didn’t you…did you have hair? Before, I mean.”
“What?” Kara’s voice was cold.
“I saw it, during the song. There was light. Shining around your heads.”
Kara growled again, long and low and echoing.
“Warrior,” Saja said.
Sensing Kara’s tension, Sue took a quick sip of her food. The flavors seared her mouth and throat, but on their heels came the same heady crackle as before.
“You cannot hide what happened to us. Not even from your creature.”
Kara opened her mouth, the light in her throat a furnace of flame, and let out a low, reverberating wail.
I’m here for you. It was a stupid thought, a foolish platitude. But at least it was honest. Sue slid her hand over Kara’s.
Saja’s eyes widened and she smirked. Sue glowered up at her, daring her to say something.
Kara lowered her head. She looked down at Sue’s hand and her lips twisted into a wry smile. “Come. We are leaving.” She shot a glance at Saja. “Add this to the credit I have with you.”
So Saja was a friend. That was good to know.
Saja nodded. “Very well.”
Kara was already walking away, her shadows a swirl behind her.
“I can tell you where you might purchase a comb for your pet’s hair,” Saja called from behind them.
Chapter Twelve
Kara didn’t take her back to her little room.
They walked through the marketplace, Sue making sure to keep behind Kara, despite her mounting frustration.
Some of the Outcasts watched them. As before, some looked curious, their bright eyes wide. Others looked angry. But they kept their distance from Kara, who strode past them, standing tall, as though daring any of them to challenge her.
No one did.
Sue looked up at Kara, at the scars that marred her back. She wondered, not for the first time, how Kara had gotten those scars. She really is a warrior. Not like Dehek, born with a vengeful being’s curse. Whatever she did in the war, she’s someone they respect.
Vengeful being. What did that mean? The old stories said the one who’d cursed them all was God Himself. That these people weren’t just rebels, they were people who had chosen Evil.
And could never repent.
Sue shook her head. That didn’t make sense. Kara had been kind. So had Saja and the other shopkeeper, even if they did call Sue an animal.
And the shops still dazzled her: restaurants and bars full of the strange liquid food. A bigger store she suspected was a grocery. Shops selling tiny computers, like the tablet she’d given up on. A big shop, the Ring around it built tall and wide to accommodate the showroom, selling vehicles, mostly small hovercars. Even a shop selling cloths. Sue convinced Kara to let her buy a few, though she wasn’t entirely sure how to make clothes and sheets out of them. That was all right. She’d manage somehow.
They passed more groups of singers and minstrels, playing and singing their image-weaving songs. Appare
ntly, Outcasts liked their music. And art, if the images counted as art. Sue guessed they did. They reminded her of paintings and dreams at the same time.
Some sang about the time before the Fall, some about the life they’d made for themselves here. They stopped in front of a group singing about the Rings and the Outcasts who built them, hovering on their shadowy wing-stumps for a few minutes at a time, building their new home panel by panel.
Sue smiled. There was something defiant about that. Something brave. We’ve been sent to hell, but we’ll make a home out of it anyway. She grinned at one of the singers as he finished his song.
“Human,” he said, his voice low and echoing. Kara made a noise of warning, but Sue didn’t heed it. She’d need friends here if she wanted to do anything but shadow Kara and sneak off to have sex with her every now and then.
That didn’t sound so bad, but it wasn’t a life.
“Hi!” she tried. She thought, briefly, of calling him “Outcast,” but it might bring up bad feelings. Especially since he’d sang about life here. The beauty of the Rings, the perseverance of the people.
“You enjoyed my song.”
“Yeah. It was beautiful. And you’re right. This is a nice place.”
He smiled, his mouth too full of fangs. “As nice as one can find in exile.”
What was she supposed to say to that?
He waved a hand. “If you’re here, you too are far from where you belong.”
Sue winced. “Well, I—”
“Easy, human. If you are in Kara’s company, I welcome you. Strange as it is to see one of your kind here.”
The other musicians nodded. Their wing shadows rustled around them.
“Welcome,” echoed one of the women. “Though you have a great soldier watching over you right now. You are a lucky creature, human.”
“Thank you,” Sue said in as formal a tone as she could muster.
Kara nodded to them, a much smoother formal gesture. “I thank you for your esteem.”
The demons waved their shadowy wing remnants in farewell.
