by Elise Jae
Trench doesn’t look at me when he stands, goes to the cabinet where his medical supplies are stored and begins wrapping the new skin.
When he does look up. It’s with a purse-lipped scowl. “I want you to bottle it.”
I look at him, not sure how to voice the question in my head.
“And I want you to carry it with you whenever you leave the house. Even if it’s just to open the door. In fact. Put a few bottles by the door. Just in case.”
I don’t tell him he’s paranoid. Don’t tell him the idea of accidentally hitting him with the spray terrifies me. I just nod. “Okay.”
TWENTY
JESSICA
I would have completely forgotten about “Girls’ night” if Kimba hadn’t called ahead. Trench took the news with an amused smile and told me it would be the perfect time to break the news to my sister.
“She’ll be thrilled. It’s other members of the family we need to be worried about.”
And Laurel is the first to arrive. Ric escorts her inside, carrying a pair of bags with food, drinks, and flowers. He sets them on the kitchen counter and says hello. Laurel doesn’t say anything, she walks straight over to me and hugs me.
“I feel like you’re avoiding me.”
“It wasn’t that.” I lead her to the couch and make her sit down. “And I feel like you should be taking it easier than you are.”
Laurel is delightfully round. She hasn’t started to waddle yet, but I imagine it won’t be long.
“I’m not going to lie to you, having a sian baby has it’s perks. Pregnancy only lasts five months, they’re smaller infants—though I’m told they eat nonstop for the first month after birth and double in size each week… we’ll have to see if that’s true.”
I glance at Trench, and Laurel follows my gaze.
“You really do love him, don’t you?”
I manage to not look at her. Manage to keep myself utterly still.
I didn’t realize I was that transparent. Bu I can’t lie to her about this.
“More than I ever expected.” I laugh at myself. “You know… I thought you were crazy.”
“Does that mean you might choose to stick around?” She waggles her brows at me. “Come on, I’ve seen the way Trench looks at you. And I know you… you’ve messed around with him, haven’t you?”
“Actually.” I have no idea why telling her this makes my stomach flutter. “I’m staying.”
Laurel’s brows raise, her lips purse and then morph into a forced smile.
She’s laughing, and I have no idea why.
“Mom is going to be so pissed.” But her smile fades. “Damn. She’s going to find a way to make this my fault.”
“I know.”
“What did I do to her when I was a kid?”
“I don’t know. I just remember trying to ditch you at every possible turn so whatever you did, didn’t make her mad at me.”
“And now you’ve followed me to a different galaxy. Weird how things work out.”
I feel Trench relax and he turns to me. “I’m going to join Richter and the others while you guys have your fun.”
I nod. “But not too much fun.”
“Never that.”
He kisses me so thoroughly; I know the tips of my ears are burning pink.
“Bye.”
They move to the door, talking about God knows what. But on the threshold, they pause, turning back to us.
Laurel is the one who shoos them along. “Kimba will be here soon, and Cindy and Andrea are carpooling. We won’t lack company just because you two desert us.”
As if invoked, Kimba is there when they open the door. She says hello, and they trade places.
The door isn’t even fully shut before Laurel loudly proclaims. “Jess and Trench did the nasty. She’s here to stay!”
Snorting, Kimba drops off the bag she brought next to Laurel's offerings.
“I’d tell you to color me surprised, but….”
I half expect her to mention the box she brought over.
She doesn’t.
Kimba lounges back on the couch. “You’re the biologist of the family, so I have to assume you had him drop trou so you could do your weights and measurements and wound up getting a little carried away.”
“Close enough.”
Laurel doesn’t stop laughing. She’s giggling so hard, she has to hold her stomach, and Kimba and I both sit back and watch her.
“I guess,” I say, when she’s managed to still herself. “As long as Chris stays home, and mom can keep the baby of the family close, she shouldn’t find a way to come here to kill us.”
“Maybe.” Laurel looks at me like she can see something I wouldn’t find in a mirror. “But she’s going to have grandbabies in another galaxy…. That’s going to drive her insane.”
The door opens and Cindy calls out a soft hello, jiggling her baby, as Andrea follows her in, waddling much the same way Laurel is.
“Ladies!” Laurel says standing and sweeping her arms. “Let me reintroduce you to my sister... Trench’s bondmate.”
“You’re joking.” The laughing smile that had started on Andrea’s face, falls away to reveal astonishment. “You’re not joking.”
“Not at all.”
“Sorry, but Trench was the last of the Brotherhood I expected to order a bondmate, so keeping you is… unexpected.”
“This just kind of happened.”
“Well, the more the merrier.” Her smile is back, and she looks genuinely happy. “Hazard has put in his request, so there will be more of us around, and pretty soon, we’re going to be marshalling a battalion of children.”
“The play dates are going to be epic.” Laurel hands Cindy a tall glass of water, and I have to take a long sip of my own.
Kids were not what I was thinking about a month ago. But Everything I’ve read—and seen to be true—tells me that Trench and I probably don’t have a lot of time on our own.
“So,” Cindy shifts so she’s cradling her baby in her crossed legs. “How long ago was it, are you pregnant yet?”
“I mean, I’m on birth control” or at least I was, “so it won’t happen for a while.”
If it does.
“There’s a problem with that….” Cindy’s smile is a little rueful. “There are birth controls that work with them… but they’re male specific, and they don’t make them on Earth. If he’s come in you, and he’s not on it, there’s every chance you’re already pregnant.”
“That doesn’t make any sense.”
“I know,” she holds up her hands. “But everything I’ve seen proves it.”
I grab my tablet off the edge of the couch and flip through my data as they talk. Sian men have what might be considered an abnormally high sperm count if they were human men, but….
I flip through Trench’s data. His count dropped as the bonding compound rose, but I have no information from when we bonded or after.
The fluttering in my stomach is more worrying than I’d ever imagined.
“This little one,” Cindy says, holding up her baby. “Has learned how to scream… but they only do it at two in the morning. You little devil.”
She pretends to bite its stomach and then blows a raspberry against its skin.
It’s sweet and I don’t have to force a smile, but those butterflies beat their wings harder.
“I’ll be right back.” I say to laurel, slipping down the stairs.
The machine is still on, still running those other numbers. But I pause it.
It takes a moment to find the right settings. The machine is pretty user friendly, but it’s not foolproof. In the end, I think I’ve got it. And that’s probably as close as I’m going to get.
Letting out a long breath, I step into the machine. There’s a hum, static vibrations, and a flashing blue aura, and then, it’s over.
Faint beeping tells me the results are waiting.
“Not pregnant.” Thank God.
I restart the other program an
d start back upstairs… but a thought stops me, and instead I turn to the tablet I still have with me, and I call him.
He’s smiling when he answers, but even from here I can feel the tension as he feels my worry. “Hey,” I see the others behind him, getting smaller as he walks away from them. “What’s wrong.”
“I don’t want to have kids yet.”
I can feel the tension ease, even more than I can see it.
“Okay.” He nods. “I’ll go to town once I can get away from these guys.”
“It’s not forever.” I search his face, trying to decide what the emotion I’m feeling is. ‘I just want more time where it’s the two of us.”
“I understand. I’m not upset.”
“I do really want to see a tiny version of you running around here.”
He smiles and I wish I could hug him. A thought occurs to me. “Some Earth women can’t have kids. You know that, right?”
He pauses, and I know this is the first he’s hearing of it. “Well, if you happen to be one of those Earth women… you’ll just have to be content with being stuck, alone, on this mountain with me, and no one else to distract you.”
I consider that for a moment. It has its appeals.
“And,” he says something soft filtering to me. “If you’re not ready to have kids yet, I can swing into town and get a bottle. I know you didn’t come here with the same ideas in mind. Laurel and Cindy had every intention of becoming mothers as soon as they got here—and they did an amazing job of getting that done. But you didn’t. And I have no intention of putting you in a situation you’re not ready for.”
“Are you ready for it?”
“I have no idea. But you’re the one who has to take the risks. You’re the one who gets to decide when, and how.”
“I am more than happy to practice until you’re ready.”
Winking at me, he disconnects, and I blow out a long breath.
Everything about him makes me want. And the wanting filters across the bond, where his reciprocating feelings bundle up with mine and create a feedback loop that is just a mess of chemicals that push us toward that inevitable end.
It’s a remarkable aide in the biological imperative to procreate.
But frustrating when I want to get things done.
Luckily, right now. Getting things done isn’t necessary.
When I get back upstairs, they’ve broken into the food and are drinking water out of wine glasses. None of them ask what I was doing down there, but Laurel gives me the sort of look that tells me she knows.
I don’t play along.
Slipping into the kitchen—my kitchen—I grab a bottle of wine out of the fridge. It was something Laurel brought over on her first visit and had Trench sneak into the fridge. Now seems like the perfect time to open it.
Dark, rich, and heady, I hope something like relaxation will seep into my bones. And quick.
The bond is… weird.
It’s strange to feel a person, constantly.
That’s not something I ever wanted… I probably would have said “no thanks” if I’d been offered.
But now that I have him. In my head and in my heart.
There’s no chance I am going to give him up.
Leaving the others, with an empty plate in hand, Kimba joins me. She picks through the offerings.
“Food cravings and abhorrence are two things that we keep from human pregnancies.” She says it like a flat fact, not a warning. “I absolutely love ice fruit. But I can’t eat it without seeing it again in five minutes, so it will just have to wait.”
“They are good.”
“How did the university take it?”
“Not well if my department chair is any indication… but that’s not a problem I have to deal with right now… so I’m going to avoid it and hope it goes away.”
“Are you going to continue your work here?”
“I had planned to. The monsters are fascinating, and I still owe the Agency their pound of information flesh.” I chuckle at the idea. “Why? Are you looking to hire?”
Kimba stretches, rolling her shoulders like the dancer she is. Even a few months pregnant, she’s very clearly ruled by the grace of movement her other profession has crafted.
“Actually. I might have a job for you, since you’re staying.” She looks longingly at the pitcher of ice fruit lemonade. “I’m a part of a council that evaluates a very specific request. And we’ve been trying to sort out a fifth member. Someone who has a better handle on the monsters and how they… tick.”
“What’s the request you evaluate?”
“There are some people out there that want us to create an extinction level event inside the caldera. To wipe them all out.”
“Trench mentioned it…. If they are sentient beings like Trench says, then what they’re advocating is genocide.”
“So glad you agree. We meet once a month, in town. I’ll put through the request forms, if you’re willing to help us stop them.”
“Sure.” I could have said no… but what if someone else took the position…. And let it go through, when I could have stopped it.
TRENCH
Drift is the only reason I’m able to get away.
The others—hell bent on proving which of them can win the greatest number of hands—have taken to throwing cards at each other. When I tried to excuse myself the first time, Core physically restrained me.
Not that I think that’s how he would have described it.
But when I shoot a glance at Drift, he distracts the others.
Just long enough for me to slide out of the chair and go to the kitchen as though I’m looking for a beer.
There’s an hour or two yet before I can reasonably go home. But I’m ready to leave… and I have a task I need to undertake.
But when I turn around to tell them I’m going to take off, Core is watching me, eyes narrowed.
“Are you ignoring me on purpose, he asks?”
“He’s distracted.” Ric says, shuffling. “Don’t you remember how hard it was to focus after you’d bonded?”
The room goes dead silent and everyone—except Ric who doesn’t realize he’s just dropped that bomb—looks at me.
And then they’re all talking at once. But I let the chaos wash over me, waiting for the calm before I acknowledge their questions.
“Why the hell didn’t you say something?”
“Because I didn’t want to have to deal with this.” I wave my hand at them and manage to dodge out of the way of several hands.
“Jessica even wanting to spend time in my presence has been a joke to you. Everything about the idea of me bonding is some joke to you. Why the hell would I want to stick around while you make jokes about how no one could possibly want me? How it’s clearly a prank or a mistake.”
No one says a word.
Thank the Saints.
I don’t plan to stick around for the inevitable jokes and comments when they get over the fact I’ve actually fought back this time. I shoot a glance to Drift, hoping he reads it as an apology.
Then, I just leave.
The drive to town is blissfully boring.
I ignore a call from Richter. It’s probably just an apology, and I don’t need or want that right now.
The chemist’s shop is nearly empty, and when I ask for the suppressant, he quickly collects it from the back, and I pay. A painless process all around.
But having the stuff in hand reminds me how worried Jess sounded when she’d called about it.
I glance at the time. If I go home now, it won’t be too early by the time I make the long drive….
When I step out of the store, there’s someone waiting for me.
Leaned against my car, Arc isn’t looking at me, but I know he sees me.
It’s not just the way his scowl tics as I get closer, it’s that tension that has only gotten stronger as time passed.
“I hear congratulations are in order.”
My blood freezes in my veins
and I clench my fist so tight, I’m surprised the bottle doesn’t pop. “I swear to all the Saints, Arc, if you say something about her—”
“That’s not why I’m here.” Pushing himself to stand upright, Arc shoves his hands in his pockets.
“When that first woman ran away… I felt like you deserved it. I needed you to be unhappy. And that’s shitty of me, I know, but I needed you to feel unwanted.”
“I’m used to being unwanted.”
“Are you? The Maker loved you. You were his special pet. Hell, you even continued researching things after he was dead.”
“Is that what this is about?”
“No. The Maker’s particular cruelties aren’t something I should hold against anyone. Not even you.” Arc deflates. “I had a long talk with Kimba this morning and it made me realize I need to apologize.”
He doesn’t.
Looking across the plains to the mountains we both should have already headed back to, his scowl deepens.
“Our father is alive.”
It’s like the world stops. Like everything in existence has frozen in place, and all of the heat has been leached from me.
“What?”
Arc doesn’t reiterate his statement.
“He didn’t even look for me. And when I found him… all he wanted to know was if you were alive. If you were safe. How you were.”
“I’m sure that’s not true.”
“No one else might want you… but our parents did.” Glaring out at the Tundra, Arc crosses his arms. “I was the accident.”
I’d heard our father call him that too many times when we were little to argue with him now.
“I told him you were dead… just to see if he’d take the son he still had over a memory. I didn’t get the chance to tell him it was a lie. He wanted nothing to do with me… except for my connection to you. Once that was gone….
He lapsed into silence, and I’d known him for too long to not recognize the look on his face. He didn’t want me to talk him through it. Didn’t want to have to acknowledge I was there at all.
“Jessica asked me why I hate you. I lied to her too, when I said that I didn’t. Because I do hate you. I don’t think I’d know how to stop if I tried.”
“Is that the only reason? Because I can’t fix what’s broken in our parents.”
