by Amanda Milo
Meanwhile, her brother yanks his shirt up and reveals a faded boot-shaped bruise that stretches from one side of his body to the other.
A slightly smaller boot print is under it, but it’s a fresh red-blue. This is no one-off accident. People are kicking this kid.
I suck in a breath through my teeth, and I’ve been around Dohrein too long, because this behavior is his thing, it’s something he does.
And he’s doing it right beside me. “Tevek!”
The boy drops his shirt. “Foster’s good. But the State keeps making us go back home every time our parents get cleaned up. Nobody listens to what we want, and nobody believes us until after. Then they let it happen all over again.”
I sink to my heels and level with him. “I’m not sure what Akita’s told you, but if you come with us, but then you change your mind, we can’t turn around.” I point up to the scaly beastie. “You know that’s not makeup he’s wearing, right? You’d be getting a whole new life, and it’s going to be a really different one. Remember: you’re deciding for her whole life too.” I nod to his sister.
The boy stays quiet for a few moments, gaze searching mine. “No one’s going to touch us?”
I don’t even get to answer—Akita cuts in, his growl so threatening I’m surprised the kids don’t so much as startle. In fact, they seem unfazed about this monstrous vocalization, and I’m not sure I want to know why that would be. I happen to know it takes hearing quite a bit of the Rakhii brand of growling before one grows accustomed to the sound.
Akita enunciates, “Not unless they want to die.”
The boy nods. “Best offer we’ve ever had.”
Akita’s promise is solid: the alien planet we now call home has its problems, but this boy won’t have to worry about him or his little sister being hurt.
When I glance at his sister, I see that she’s clinging to Akita with one hand, and with the other, she’s got his tail and she’s making it wave back and forth, like you’d play with a grouchy cat who decides you’re amusing him enough he won’t bite you. This grouchy cat will kill to protect these kids. And when you level up to Rakhii-grade protection, no one would dare fuck with you. I can’t say for sure on how aware of this the girl is, but somehow, this boy recognizes it.
I brush myself off as I stand. “All right. I think this is where I get to say welcome to our ship—”
“We are leaving,” Akita informs me.
The kids look up at him sharply, like this pronouncement is news to them too.
“We will return,” he adds—for their benefit, obviously, since he delivered it softer than he’s been speaking to me. “I will collect what these pups require before we leave this place.”
Out of the corner of my mouth, I whisper to Dohrein, “Dare we let the Rakhii wander off again?”
Dohrein’s brow raises, silently asking, You want to try stopping him?
I really don’t, and besides—how much trouble can an alien really get into on Earth?
CHAPTER 7
GRACIE
I sent them off with a cheery, “Be careful around town!” because I was seeing the benefit of him carrying around two mites: who would suspect that it’s a real live alien walking around with kids clinging to him?
No one, that’s who. Nerd-fest conventions are popular—those are big get togethers for serious comic book and movie hero aficionados. It’ll be a toss-up as to whether people will think he’s dressed up as a hero or the villain’s beast in the basement—but with two kids at his side, they’ll just think he’s their giant super-geek dad.
Thus, I relax, convincing myself that this development will only help him blend into his new environment.
He must have blended too well.
Like some spiny, horned venus fly trap.
Because not two hours later, guess who parades up with another captive?
“You didn’t,” I utter in disbelief. “Bad Akita! Bad!”
“Excellent,” I hear Dohrein mutter. “I haven’t been burned by a Rahkii in rotations. Let’s call this one names.”
I see the scaly horned one’s also got a small, strange spacecraft. It looks like a movie prop, which is awesome, because it is most definitely as alien as he is.
“Akita?” he asks.
I start to wave his question away, but the little girl tugs on his hand and says, “What is your name?”
I shake my head. Such a typical Rakhii, white-knighting full-on abduction style without so much as a proper introduction. I can almost hear Dohrein’s voice in my head: the impulsivity…
I pause. “What is your name?”
“Hotahn.”
“Nice to meet you, Hotahn. WHAT! THE FUCK! MAN!!!”
The little girl gasps.
Hotahn’s eyes narrow on me.
I continue. “No! BAD. I told you NO stealing—did you not hear me? Give me your ears, are these working? Nod if you understand me. Yes? What happened here?”
Akita straightens, tugging his long silky ear from my hand and starts to cross his arms—but the girl won’t let his hand go, so he’s got one arm half folded across his chest and the other one is stretched out—he quickly lets her have her way (of course he does—when Rakhii find a girl they like, they do basically whatever she wants, geez), and drops his other arm. “You stipulated that younglings needed mothering. I have provided them a female willing to mother them.”
“Hello! That wasn’t exactly what I said!”
The little girl says proudly, “She’s a doctor!”
This shuts my mouth. I look at the boy. “That so? This the kind of doc that can patch you up and then we turn her loose?” I glance at the doctor. “Or… any chance you’re a therapist?”
She shakes her head.
I groan, and turn on the naughty giant alien. “Hey, while you’re abducting doctors, you couldn’t have looked for a head shrink? You’re fired.”
The Rakhii's big brow scales are wrinkling up. “Shrinking… heads? Fired…”
His throat moves, the scales bunching and releasing like he wonders if I mean literal fire.
I wave his confusion away. “Get no ideas. NO MORE STEALING people. NO MORE. You better start nodding so that I know you understand me.”
His lips compress and I give him my Oh boy, I’m gonna beat that look right off your face glare and slooowly, he nods.
I let out a very long, very stressed sigh. “Doc.”
She’s wearing the kind of anxious expression you’d expect from a random stranger abducted off the street by an alien who probably demanded that she mother his two human children.
This poor woman has had a shite day. “You know this is no movie, right?”
Her eyes dart to Akita, and I can almost see her thoughts of ‘If I say I know this is real, are they going to kill me after…?’ so I clear it up for her. “You’re not in any danger. You get to walk out of here unharmed. And it’d be awesome if you didn’t tell anybody what you saw here—although,” I pause to consider, “if you don’t mind, we’ll just have you hang around until we’re about done. Then you can go and you can tell everyone you want that you were temporarily abducted by aliens. Good luck with that.”
Angie’s grimacing and holding out her hand in a gesture of reassurance. “Sorry about this. We just need you to hang with us for a bit, that way we don’t get every news crew and military battalion dropping on us, you know? You can go home.”
Arokh’s frame stiffens behind Angie when Akita—Hotahn—bellows, “SHE CANNOT! She belongs to these children, whom I have claimed.”
Exasperated, I turn on him. “About that. You took kids! I don’t think you’re grasping how lucky you are no one went Amber alert on you. They would have shot you on the six o’clock news.” I haul in a deep breath and address the furry elephant in the room. “Okay. I give: what’s the fuzzy thing under your arm? Do I even want to know? Is it fucking yowling?”
“It’s a cat,” the humans chime together.
“You shouldn’t swear,” the li
ttle girl informs me.
“I didn’t… oh fuc-freaking crap. That word,” I try to explain. “It shouldn’t count.”
This kid is all of five or six years old, but she’s all patient serenity as she coaches, “You have to try to do better.”
I grimace. Is this what guilt feels like?
Another low, mumbling sort of yowl emanates from under Akita’s arm.
It sounds like a possessed cat.
It sounds like a very pissed possessed cat.
The Rakhii looks from the girl to me—and if I’m not mistaken, his warning glare at me is just a little fucking threatening. He grates, “It is the Earthen version of a qiizibeast.”
I tip my head up, expecting to see the sky—but I see it as a backdrop to Rein’s face as he gazes down at me, equal parts entertained, curious, and amused.
“I was right: I didn’t want to know,” I tell him.
He smiles. “I did.”
Peripherally, I notice that the doc’s shoulders relax as she starts to believe me that she’s safe enough.
I turn to the little girl. “What’s your name? And can I say fiddlesticks? Is fiddlesticks too strong?”
It’s the boy who pipes up, crossing his arms as he answers. “That depends.”
Angie holds up a finger, looking around for Beth. “Doc Hollywood! I understood that reference.”
The boy turns to her. “And I understood that reference.”
Ha! Clever. I step back from him, a smile stretching my face. “Oh, a smart—! ...Guy.” I point to the girl. “Hey, I get points. I didn’t say it.”
The boy has the audacity to snicker.
Hotahn’s lips curve up.
Hot damn. Did I just make this Rakhii smile? I feel like I should win a fiddlesticking prize.
The boy answers, “Her name is Kaylee. I’m Levi.”
I hold my hand out for him to slap. “We better do this fast before your guardian gets all order-y again and stomps off to steal more people. I’m Gracie. Nice to meet you.” I hook a thumb behind me. “This is your king, Dohrein—”
“Try to behave yourself,” Dohrein murmurs.
“Impossible.” I offer a high-five to Kaylee. “Ever seen Pinocchio?”
She nods.
“You remind me of that cricket.”
“I’m your conscience?” she asks.
I shoot her a mock glare. “Apparently fudging so.”
The Akita’s tail blades fan out between us, as if he’s blocking the power of my glare from his little pampered charge.
I stare up at him. “Good gobstoppers man, I was only joking with her. I can fake-glare.”
There is nothing fake about his glare. He shakes his head, his big horns sweeping side to side. “No.”
I scoff. Dohrein’s arm catches me around my middle, tugging me to his front. “You—” I start.
“I want to go with them.”
It takes me a second to process who’s speaking—and what she just said. It’s the doctor. The doctor just said... “You’re joking.”
She gulps, looking around at us like she’s mustering courage. “I’m… I’m not. I want to stay with them.”
Dohrein’s exhale warms the back of my ear as he breathes, “Ohhh, to study this…”
I drop my head back, lolling against his chest. Knowing she’s somewhere behind us, I call out, “Yo, Beth? Think your guys can make pamphlets? Some sort of ‘This is what you want to sign up for, Really??’ guide?”
Her Stable starts murmuring among themselves, and I want to laugh, because they’ll probably do it—and price-gouge every hob and Rakhii that tries to smuggle humans onboard.
Huh. That might cut down on the stowaway problem.
I glance at the doc. I find her gaze steady on me, and although she looks a little shocked at herself, she also looks like she’s growing more committed to this.
I let my full weight rest against Dohrein, enjoying his support. “Do Rakhii and hobs emit some sort of human-snagging pheromone?”
“Nothing I’ve been able to confirm,” he answers with one hundred percent seriousness.
“Where will we stay?” Hotahn asks. “I have a large den, but it has a number of—”
Now the Akita considers logistics? Not when he was pulling kids and women off the street?
“I would prefer to isolate your unit in the lab,” Dohrein starts. “Everyone will be provided with the best care. I’m simply—deeply—curious about your interactions.”
Hotahn appears to mull this over for a moment before he cuts the doc a look. “Would this please you?”
Her eyebrows are nearly touching. “Do I want to stay in a den or a laboratory?”
The heartbeats I can feel against my back pick up speed. Dohrein breathes into my ear again. “He’s deferring to her. Natural inclination? Or is there more?” He angles his mouth away to raise his voice enough to address them. “Have you bonded?”
One of Akita’s ears slowly eases forward at the same pace one of his brow scales rise. “No.”
To the doc, Dohrein asks, “Are you attracted to him?”
She goes white as a sheet. “Pardon?”
I roll my eyes. “Smooth, D.” I give the doctor a little wave. “You don’t have to fu—” I cock a brow at the Cricket, and she smiles encouragingly, “You don’t have to do a thing. You don’t have to do anyone,” I add meaningfully. “Dohrein’s just studying human and alien interactions and he’s kicking around a theory about the effect of children in a relationship.”
The doctor seems as interested by this Dohrein’s-dream-come-true as much as the Akita is. Before either can pose any questions, I squeeze mine in. “Since you’re joining us… what’s your name?”
“Jennifer.”
“What kind of doctor are you? What sort of medicine do you practice?”
“I’m a veterinarian.”
I snicker to myself—and Dohrein. “A vet for the Akita.”
“A doctor who treats animals and you’ve affectionately been calling him after a fierce breed of beasts,” Dohrein’s got his thinking face on as he watches the odd group. “I grasp the irony.”
The possessed cat gives a furious screech and Hotahn hisses softly. “Exactly like a qiizibeast.”
CHAPTER 8
DOHREIN
A Rakhii appointing himself nanny over two orphans, and adding in a human woman who has no ties to any of them? VERY intriguing. I would like the opportunity to study this grouping.
“These women are defenseless,” I hear Gracie mutter as she makes her way into the cargo hold of Brax’s vessel.
“Humans appear largely defenseless,” I agree.
“No, they’re falling for these guys like that,” she brings her fingers together in an abrupt fashion that results in a loud snapping noise.
I’ve seen Rakhii perform this gesture of emphasis also, and I’m further fascinated by these vastly different species’ surprising similarities.
Gracie tilts her head. “I mean, obviously Akita isn’t anything to sneeze at, but still. She was what, just minding her own business until an alien yanks her off the street? How did it go from that to ‘I want to leave Earth with this guy?’”
I release a rumble of agreement. This Rakhii, Hotahn, doesn’t appear to be operating under the instant infatuation that’s gripped many a Rakhii. His concern is reserved for the offspring in need of him. Will the presence of the younglings alter, affect, interrupt, or stave off bonding—
Wait a teveking moment. “What do you mean by ‘obviously?’”
Gracie steps up on a box in order to be at the necessary height to pat me on the cheek.
I scowl down at her.
Inwardly, I adore her teasing, but because she receives far more enjoyment if I put forth the impression that I’m nettled, I don’t allow my stern expression to lighten.
Abruptly though, she hops down, turns on the hobs and remaining Rakhii in our collective that have followed us into the ship and declares, “Don’t take ANYONE w
ho’s unwilling, and they better not be troublemakers—”
“Yes, we already have one of those,” a very brave hob dares to tease.
Gracie laughs and sends him her trademark gesture before continuing. “—And I better not know about it unless you’re bringing chocolatiers or doctors and we’re good, clear?”
“Give the Governor a harrumph!” Beth’s men say to each other, and Beth’s mouth curves proudly. “It’s a movie line.”
“I know that, CJ. I’ve seen movies before.” Gracie’s voice is a study in baiting.
Beth crosses her arms. “CJ better not stand for what I think it does.”
I tense when Gracie grins. “Relax. It’s not Cum Juggler.”
Beth’s eyes narrow—and yet one side of her mouth tugs up a fraction. “Go ahead. Hit me with it.”
Gracie sends a pointed look at what Angie refers to as Beth’s ‘stable’—five Na’rith husbands. Then she faces Beth, and smiles when she answers, “Cock Jockey.” Gracie makes a motion towards herself. “Love dick here, I’m not judging.”
Beth shakes her head—but she laughs.
My wings relax, and I see Gracie’s smile: it’s her playful one. She enjoys teasing Beth, and I believe Beth has learned to cope with Gracie’s peculiar version of it.
It once again highlights—and perhaps this is one of the most interesting aspects of my mate—that Gracie is an anomaly even among her own kind.
Like me.
Her people struggle to read her, and struggle with how to interact with her, despite her overall behavior being affectionate towards them. A harsh form of affectionate, but hobs can recognize hers for what it is because she exhibits behaviors deemed perfectly acceptable for females of our species in our society.
She’s utterly compelling.
I feel her fingers press into my sides as she brings herself against my front. “Hey you. What’s going on in that big brain of yours?”
I… at first it made me uncomfortable when she made statements such as these. Truthfully, it still does, but now I let the pleasure from her lateral praise wash over me for a moment before I answer. “You’re perfect.”
