by Marie Dry
Something dangerous poured off him, and he grew even bigger. “I am not an animal. I am a Zyrgin warrior and have superior senses. But I do not find my prey by following their scent like an animal.”
She held out her hands with her palms open. “I just don’t understand how a machine can know which child to look for?”
“Do you know what DNA is?”
“No.”
“It is inside your body, and anyone that is your family will have the same DNA. That is how the machine will find your brother.”
She clutched her empty arms around her middle. “I wish I could believe that. I want him back with me so much. Sometimes I think it will never happen.”
He came to her and drew her into his arms. Her mother had been the only other person who offered her comfort like this.
“I have not forgotten our conversation. I will never forget what was done to you. Joseph is a dead human walking.”
She shivered and nodded. She was the worst sinner because as long as Joseph told them where Noah was before he died, she didn’t care what happened to him.
“How long will it take your machines to find him?”
“I do not know. The machines are searching in grids for anyone with your DNA and human males that fit the description for Joseph.”
“Joseph will come back, and if I’m not here, he will kill Noah.”
“Why do you think he will come back?”
She swallowed “He looked at me--sometimes, the way he looked at me scared me. He said he’d come back, and if I wasn’t here, he’d hurt Noah. But maybe you can find him first and make him tell us where Noah is.”
“Do not fear. I will find him, and he will tell me where Noah is, or I will make him beg to die.”
For the first time since the others had left, that terrible knot in her stomach that had wound tighter and tighter relaxed a little. The menace in Azagor’s voice should scare her, but instead it reassured her. He would find her son.
“I’m not very brave. I’ve been afraid for so long.”
“You are a brave human. You captured a Zyrgin warrior.”
Susannah hid her smile behind her hand. No one would punish her for smiling, but, she still felt guilty. Azagor gently took her hand in his. “Why do you hide your smiles?”
“Women were supposed to be decorous at all times, and a smiling female did not please anyone.” That’s what she’s been told ever since she could remember. Her mother had told her that her grandmother had always said that a frog in a well never experienced the great sea. She wasn’t exactly sure what that meant, but her mother had always said it when she needed to have courage.
“Your smiles are beautiful. Do not hide them.”
He growled something at Killer and went back to kitchen and the open TC. Killer barked, and Azagor picked him up and put him on the table.
Killer paced the length of the table, keeping her company, but stopped to sniff at the TC. When she sat down, he went back to Azagor and picked up a small tool in his mouth. She suppressed a giggle when she heard Azagor sigh.
“He’s trying to help you.” She took a deep breath. “I will go with you to the place you call a dwelling.”
His head jerked up. “You do not wish to remain here?”
She looked around her, at the kitchen she’d eaten in for as long as she could remember. She’d hated this farm, and there was nothing here for her. It was time for her to be the frog that experienced more than the well.
“Everywhere I look, I see bad memories. I need to find Noah and start fresh in a new place. If you let me stay with you for a while, I promise to work hard for you.”
He accepted another tool from Killer, and she noticed he pretended to use it before he set it down with the others he had neatly laid out. “I am not a useless brother who needs a woman to work for me. You have to understand that I will never force you, but I want you for my breeder. I want to have the first knowing with you, that I will want many hours in the sleeping place.”
“If that means having relations, I want that, too.” She stood. “We can do it right now if you prefer.”
“When we reach our dwelling.”
She sat down, not knowing if she should be grateful or insulted that he was willing to wait. “When will we go?”
“Tomorrow.” He pressed the lid of the TC closed and pushed it over to her. “Switch it on.”
She switched it on and smiled when the colorful images hovered in the air in front of her. “Magic,” she whispered.
“I have made a few upgrades.”
Susannah frowned at him.
“I have made it better,” he clarified.
“Thank you.” She couldn’t imagine what could make it better, but she found the button that would send her to more buttons until she got to the clip she wanted. She smiled when the opening music came on. “Walker Space Ranger, Defender of the Galaxy.”
Susannah pressed the button again, the way Caine had shown her to do if she wanted to pause it, and picked up the TC. “Let’s sit in the bedroom. It’s the most comfortable now that you fixed the floor.”
She almost ran to the bedroom, because now she knew what it meant when he made the TC better. It meant clips of the Space Ranger she’d never seen before. In the bedroom, out of habit, she almost went to the corner to hide what she was doing. She lifted her chin, made herself comfortable against the wall, and pressed the button again. She was only vaguely aware of Azagor and Killer joining her.
A ferocious growl echoed by a soft one made her jump. She looked up, straight into flaming red eyes and a pair of small beady eyes staring balefully at her. “What’s wrong?”
“You will speak with me now, not look at the space ranger.” He said space ranger as if he tasted something bad in his mouth.
Chapter 10
Susannah stared at him and Killer and had to swallow the tears that were always close since they took Noah from her. Never before had anyone demanded her attention simply because they wanted her company. Now she had a weird-looking alien and her dog that enjoyed being with her.
He sat down next to her, his back against the wall, and, when Killer struggled to jump onto his lap with his short legs, Azagor lifted him up with a gentle finger and pressed some of the air buttons of the TC. “I will show you more functions.”
He spent an hour, patiently showing her the most wondrous things. Her mind kept wanting to shy away from all the new information, but she was determined to learn as much as she could--to be a modern woman like the ones on the TC. Noah would never have to be ashamed of her.
“Azagor.”
“Yes, my breeder.”
“I don’t want to wait.” The longer she waited, the more scared she became.
Caine had explained to her that women didn’t enjoy relations. That they did it to please their men who needed it. She’d endured it to make Caine happy. Azagor made her feel things she’d never felt for Caine, and that scared her.
“What don’t you want to wait for?”
“Having relations.” She feared doing it with him. The discomfort and pain had been considerable with Caine, and Azagor was bigger. A lot bigger. She’d seen what he would put inside her when she’d washed him. At the same time, she had this strange need to be with him.
He cocked his head, and his eyes narrowed, as if he tried to translate her words. “We call the first time the first knowing. You want to do this now?”
“Yes, right now.”
“Your rat will have to stay outside.”
She almost giggled but managed to stifle it. He didn’t want Killer to try and bite his privates again. She picked up Killer and put him in his basket in the kitchen.
She went back to the bedroom and to the blanket and lay down. Azagor still sat against the wall, holding the TC.
She lay back down, scrunched her eyes closed again, took a deep breath for courage, and lifted her dress. She should’ve taken off her underwear, but it was too late for that now.
When the hem of
her dress reached her middle, she spread her legs. This was always hard to do--almost worse than the pain and grunting.
Warm hands closed over hers, and she felt him pull her dress down. “You don’t want me?” She kept her eyes closed. Humiliation burned over her skin, as if Joseph had flayed her with his whip. She’d done everything exactly the way Caine had taught her.
“I want to do the first knowing with you, my breeder, but Zyrgins have different customs.”
Visions of weird rituals flashed though her mind and she opened her eyes. “Does it hurt?”
“No Zyrgin warrior with honor would hurt his breeder in the sleeping place. Are you sure you want to do it now?”
“Yes, I want to give you this.” A small part of her thought if she pleased him, maybe he wouldn’t give up if Noah was hard to find.
“I want you, I want to spend many hours with you,” he said.
Susannah swallowed. “Hours?” she squeaked.
“We take our time with the first knowing. There are traditions to follow.”
“All right. You may begin your strange ritual.” She couldn’t imagine what he wanted to do in hours. Caine rarely took more than a few minutes. She braced herself. “A frog in a well does not know the sea,” she murmured the words her mother had taught her to give herself courage. “Before we begin, you have to promise me something. If you do not find me pleasing, you still have to find my s--my cousin.”
“You please me.”
“Promise me,” she insisted.
“I swear this on my honor.”
He kneeled next to her, and she wanted to close her eyes again, but she also wanted to see what he was going to do. If he looked like he was going to hurt her, maybe she could talk him out of it.
He took her hands in his, and she jerked at that gentle touch. She didn’t know what she’d expected, but it wasn’t the way he carefully arranged her hands over her head. He touched her legs, and she thought he wanted to part them, but, instead, he merely took off her shoes. “It is important that you stay still, no matter what I do.”
“Is that part of the way you do things?” Having to stay still while he did things to her didn’t sound good. She knew Caine enjoyed having relations with her, and she’d complied to make him happy, but she’d never been able to figure out why anyone would enjoy that.
Azagor lifted a strand of her hair. “I wanted to be your warrior from the first time I saw you, when you screamed and ran from me. I knew your midnight hair would look good arranged in the proper manner.” While he spoke, he arranged her hair.
After years of being told she had witch’s hair, she loved his compliment. She frowned at him. “I thought you said people in your country don’t have hair. So how come you have a ritual for it?” This wasn’t so bad. It almost felt good, the way he fiddled with her hair.
“During the first knowing, we study every inch of our breeder. That includes parts that are not found on a Zyrgin warrior.”
She didn’t like the sound of that. Being studied that closely sounded uncomfortable to her.
“Do not speak,” he said.
He arranged her hands over her head and then returned to arranging her hair to his satisfaction. He was totally focused on his task, and she didn’t know what to think of such strange behavior. She couldn’t fathom why Azagor would want to play with her hair. How could that please him?
“You have truly beautiful hair.” Most of the women on the farm had brown hair or dark blonde hair. She was the only one with pitch-black hair, and they’d managed to make her feel as if it was somehow unnatural. Now she felt almost pretty.
He moved on to her hands he’d arranged next to her head. He stroked her fists until she relaxed them and then arranged her fingers the way he wanted them. It was really odd.
“Why can’t I move?”
He paused in arranging her hair. “You cannot speak. It is our custom for the breeder to remain silent while her warrior learns her body.”
Then she was in big trouble. Many of her punishments had been because of speaking out of turn. He stroked the delicate veins in her wrists, over the inside of her forearm. Goosebumps broke out over her whole body when he touched the sensitive flesh on the inside of her elbow. He really had strange rituals. At least he only seemed intent on stroking her and not hurting her.
He moved on to her shoulders, cupping them in his hands, and then slowly stroked his thumbs over both her collar bone. A strange tingly feeling started low in her stomach.
Slowly, gently, he opened the buttons running down the front of her dress. His thumbs were warm and stroked the delicate skin between her shoulders. She felt strangely restless, she wanted to press her legs together and twist her hips. This was different, wrong. Why didn’t he lift her dress and put himself inside her? She was determined to endure it without flinching, even if he hurt when he came inside her with his huge privates.
She bit her lip but stayed still when he opened more of the buttons that ran down the top of her long dress. He caressed each inch of her skin he exposed with the pads of his fingers. She’d never imagined that his tough skin could feel so good against her. He took off the bra she’d sowed herself, and she bit back a moan. It was really difficult to lay still. Did he like what he saw? Was it sinful of her to want him to think her beautiful? She couldn’t breathe.
He started at the underside of her breasts, caressing and stroking and sometimes softly pinching, and she felt shivery and hot and strangely needy. It had never felt like this with Caine.
Her eyes flew wide open when he closed his mouth over her nipples. Caine had never even touched them, and this alien sucked on them. The way an infant would. That thought, coupled with the strange sinful way her body reacted, shocked her out of the paralysis that had held her still from the moment he unbuttoned her dress.
“No.” She pushed against him and tried to jump up.
He held her still with his hands on her upper arms. She flushed when she realized he was fully clothed while she sat there with her dress gaping open. “You’re doing it wrong,” she said. She struggled and jumped up and held her dress close with a shaking hand.
His eyes narrowed. “Why would you think I am doing it wrong?”
“You’re supposed to--” She pressed her knuckles against her lips. How did she say it out loud?
He sat with his one leg drawn up. “I’m supposed to do what? Tell me what is upsetting you.”
“You’re not supposed to make me feel good.” She just blurted out the rest. “You’re supposed to just put your male part inside me. Not do all these sinful things.” She gestured vaguely then grabbed her dress closed over her chest when it slipped, and his eyes dropped to her breasts. “I’m not supposed to feel like a sinner.”
“Is that how you did it with your human male, the one who is buried here on the farm?”
She should’ve known he’d figure it out. “Yes.”
She had the strangest feeling that he didn’t know what to do, that he pitied her and she hated that.
“I am a warrior with honor. Giving you pleasure is more important than my own needs.”
She couldn’t accept that. It threatened everything she believed. Tainted her relationship with Caine. The way Noah was conceived. “No. You have to do it right.”
“The other breeders were fine when their warrior did the first knowing.”
This was terrible. She couldn’t bear for him to talk to anyone about their private times. “You talked about it. With each other.”
“Of course.”
“You have to promise never to talk about it to anyone else.”
“I will not talk off it,” he assured her.
“I am ready to stay still for your first knowing now,” she told him quietly. Maybe if she thought of other things, her body wouldn’t react that way. Wouldn’t prove that Joseph was right when he said she had a sinful soul that was beyond redemption.
He lifted a strand of her hair and twirled it around his finger. “We will wait u
ntil we are in my dwelling to do the first knowing. It will be proper to do it in my bed.” There was a kindness, a tenderness to this tough warrior that brought tears to her eyes.
“And you will find Noah for me? Even if I don’t please you in this first knowing?”
“You do not need to please me in the sleeping place to make me find your Noah,” he said, grim promise in his voice.
Should she tell him that Noah was her son? Would he accept him or resent him?
In her experience, no one did something like that without payment. Even Caine had expected her to prove her love to him. No, she’d try her best to please Azagor when he decided to do his first knowing.
“I will fetch your rat, and we will go to sleep. Tomorrow at first light, we will go to my dwelling.”
Susannah nodded, quickly grabbed her night dress, and went into the bathroom to put it on. Again he showed how caring he could be, making sure Killer wasn’t left alone in the kitchen. Why did it feel so strange, so good when he touched her? Did it mean she was a sinful woman like Joseph always said she was?
When she went into the bedroom, she found Azagor lying on the blanket with Killer next to him. He stared at Killer, as if he was a mouse and Killer a dangerous snake. In spite of his continued kindness to Killer, she sometimes caught him looking almost fearful when he looked at her dog. She must be misreading him. He wouldn’t fear a little dog. “Why do you hate rats so much?”
He turned his head to look at her. “I was trapped on a planet overrun with rats.” She could hear revulsion and fear in his voice, even though he tried to hide it. After a lifetime fearing punishment for doing anything more than existing, she knew the signs.
She shivered and went to lie down next to him. “I’d hate that too. How did you get away?”
“Zacar came back for me.”
“Is he your friend?” She sidled closer to his heat.
“He is my leader, but I consider him a friend as well.”
When Caine had first told her of the aliens, and she’d realized she’d seen one of them years ago, she never thought of the unholy creatures as having friends. She certainly wouldn’t have expected one of them to be kind to her dog and promise to find Noah for her. Maybe they weren’t so different from humans, after all.
