Angie's Gladiator: A SciFi Alien Romance Read online

  “What’s a…quora…” I give up on pronouncing it and look at him again.

  “Qura’aki,” he repeats, the sound fluid and beautiful on his lips. “It means ‘the fair ones’ in an old, old language.” His gaze slides to the baby. “They are a famously exotic breed of clone with pale lavender hair and eyes. I heard they also have lavender skin but…” He shrugs.

  Right. She would have red skin because they’re branding her as a thing instead of a person. My heart hurts to hear that. I clutch her tighter to my chest. “So someone made themselves a slave and put it inside me,” I say flatly.

  I hate that he nods.

  “Why put a clone inside me, then? Why not put her in a test tube like you and Thrand? I don’t understand.” I clutch my sweet little one closer to my breast, even though she’s no longer hungry. “Why put her in a human?”

  Vordis’s expression is grave, as if he knows how much this information bothers me. “Some clones are more delicate than others. I have heard that Qura’aki are fragile and fare better when they are carried in a live vessel.”

  “You sure do know a lot about this,” I mutter, even as I touch my precious baby’s cheek. God, she’s beautiful. I can’t stop staring at her. Her skin is less of a fiery, angry red like Vordis and more of a sweet, deep red that makes me think of Valentine’s Day and hearts, of all things. I want her to open her eyes and look at me again, but she’s drifting off to sleep and I don’t want to wake her. I just want to keep touching her and loving her. She’s so tiny. I touch her little hand again and smooth my fingers down her arm, noticing for the first time the delicate little flap on her lower arm. It matches the webbing between her fingers, and I wonder if the Qura-whatever were an aquatic people. In a way, she reminds me of a little mermaid with her cute fingers and perfect face and pointy long ears. A mermaid-elf, I decide.

  “I have told you,” Vordis says, his voice even and low. “I am dedicated to you. Thrand is, too.”

  For some reason, it doesn’t just sound like a vow this time. There’s something more going on that I’m not picking up. His face is troubled, and that worries me. “Vordis, what do you mean?”

  “Do you remember when they awoke us? How your stasis pod was between mine and Thrand’s?”

  I have trouble remembering much of that day. “Was it? I don’t recall.”

  “It is so we can protect you…because we are dedicated to you.”

  A funny feeling starts in my gut. “And being dedicated means…?”

  He spreads his fingers, as if lacking the words to explain. “It means that we have one goal in our lives and one alone—to protect you and your young from harm. We are…” He pauses. “Dedicated.”

  “Like an assignment?” I can’t believe what I’m hearing. “You mean you guys were following me around because I’m some sort of homework assignment?”

  “I do not know what that is. All I can tell you is that a’ani are given a purpose. We are clones with a task. My task used to be to fight in the arena, to win glory for my owner. Now my task is you and your child.”

  I shake my head. This is just worse and worse. “Who assigned you to me?”

  “I do not know.” When I sputter, he continues. “My last memories are of finishing an arena battle with Thrand at my side. We lost, and I know my master was displeased. We were sent to our chambers…and then nothing. I woke up here, as you did. People care nothing for how a clone feels. They think of us as things to be owned and used, not as beings with a spirit. When I awoke here with Thrand, I assumed we were sold by our master, and when I saw you I could feel my new directive, one that had been implanted in my mind. I have no purpose in life except to protect you and your young.” Vordis gives a little shake of his head. “I do not know who bought us, though. I do not know their names or faces any more than you do. I suspect we would have, if we would have made it to our master’s side. Instead, we are here, a cargo that has never reached its destination.”

  Cargo. Slaves. Things.

  My poor baby. Poor Vordis.

  I know that years have passed, years since I was last aware of where I was. In talking with some of the girls the other day, we discussed what year we thought it was—my last memory is of the year 2010, and the last year that others remember is 2015. Liz and Harlow believe the current year is 2023 or 2024 depending on which one of them you talk to. I’ve lost an entire decade—or more. I think of the pod I was in, where I slept. Me and twenty assorted others, shipped like frozen hams out to a grocery store. Was someone stockpiling humans? Have I sat on the back of a shelf somewhere, waiting for my turn to be enslaved, only to end up here? I shudder.

  “Then…I wasn’t raped?”

  Vordis gazes at me for a long time. “I cannot say for certain, but the Qura’aki are an old race. The only ones said to exist are clones. It is far more likely you were purchased simply to act as a convenient vessel for the true prize.” And he gestures at the baby.

  It makes sense. In a way, it’s a relief. I don’t think I was raped. I have no memories of anything like that, and I imagine that it’s far more likely that Vordis’s scenario is the real one—that I’m just a human-shaped incubator for the perfect, beautiful prize that I just gave birth to. I lift my baby and press a kiss to her tiny brow. She stirs, then sucks on her fist and goes back to sleep, quiet and placid.

  “So…they wanted her? For what?”

  He spreads his hands. “Why does anyone wish a beautiful female?”

  “But she’s a baby.”

  “Perhaps someone wished a daughter, then.” But the look on his face tells me that it’s most likely not the case, and I bite back a sound of disgust, holding her tighter.

  My head is spinning. So much information has been flung at me tonight that my head feels ready to burst with all of this. “I can’t believe you knew all this time and didn’t tell me.”

  “I did not mean to keep it from you,” Vordis says, hand over his heart. “I thought your dedication was implanted in you as it was in me. I am not familiar with humans.”

  I shake my head, thinking of all the fears I’ve had over the last while, how worried I’ve been…and Vordis has had the answers all along. I shouldn’t resent him for withholding it—I don’t think he did it on purpose.

  But he doesn’t like me, either. Not like a guy likes a girl. All this affection? The longing glances? They’re not real. I’m just a “directive” to him, a subliminal message that’s been implanted in his mind while he slept. And that’s just as devastating. I gaze down at my baby, focusing on her. “Please leave, Vordis.”

  “Are you angry, Angie?”

  “I shouldn’t be, but I don’t know what to think right now,” I admit. “I need time to process it and I can’t with you sitting there. Just give me some space, okay?” The baby fusses, and it gives me an excuse. I look up at him, waiting. “I’m going to feed her and then take a nap.”

  He gets to his feet, reluctance evident in his movements. “Can I do anything else for you? Food? Drink? Blankets? Protection?”

  I shake my head. “Just space. That’s all we need right now.”

  It feels a bit like kicking a puppy, but he nods, his body stiff, and then he quietly leaves my cave. The screen is put back over the entrance a moment later, and then it’s just me and my beautiful baby, cuddled in blankets near the fire. Her hair’s drying and it sticks straight up from her head like lavender corn silk, and it’s the most adorable thing I’ve ever seen.

  She’s utterly glorious.

  I can’t believe someone cloned her to make her a…thing. A toy. A pet…or worse. Ugh.

  “You’re safe with me,” I whisper to her, and my heart fills with love when she coos back.

  12

  ANGIE

  Glory is the best baby ever.

  I’m biased, of course, but after the hell of my pregnancy and all the worry? My little love feels like a blessing. I can't stop staring at her, noticing all the beautiful little things about her, like her perfect tiny
fingernails, or the delicate little sails on the back of each arm and leg, the tiny points of her ears, the thick, glossy mop of hair that stands completely upright as it dries. She sucks on her fist and yawns, her little cat eyes sleepy, and my heart squeezes every time I look at her.

  She's been a wonderful baby so far, too. Even though it's been a full day since she was born, Glory hasn't cried once. She just makes this sweet little peeping sound when she needs attention, and I'm quick to pick her up and cuddle her.

  I can't believe I ever had a resentful thought about this little darling. I don't even mind that my lower body aches like hell and that I feel all bloated and crampy. For Glory? It's totally worth it.

  I huddle in my cave all day, just nesting with my tiny baby. Veronica drops by in the morning to check on me, and then again in the afternoon. She can't do anything for Glory since Glory doesn't have a khui yet, but she exclaims over how beautiful my baby is and fusses over me instead. Since I don't have a mate to take care of me, all of the women in the camp stop by throughout the day to see the baby and chitchat. Well, they say it's to bring me food and to share hot tea, or to rebuild my fire for me, but I'm stranded without a TV, too. I know how much everyone in the tribe gossips, because that's all the entertainment we have.

  I don't mind, either. I'm excited to show my baby off. I want everyone to see how incredibly perfect she is. Liz and Harlow both fuss over her, rubbing their own bellies and thinking about when their babies are due. They have their kids with them, though, so they don't stay for long. Devi talks so much that Glory starts peeping with distress, and poor Devi looks so upset that she leaves after that. Hannah stops by, too, but she holds Glory so awkwardly and looks so bewildered by the baby that I take her back swiftly.

  Bridget and Sam hang out the longest, making sure my fire stays lit while I nap and sewing tiny little clothes as they do. "I need to do something with my hands," Bridget explains as she shows the little sack-dress she's making. "I should make my own clothes, you know, but I figured you might need baby clothes more, what with disposable diapers not really being a thing here." She shudders lightly.

  "Right." I already had this conversation with Gail. Lots of swaddling and changing it out throughout the day. Fluff from dvisti undercoats, and basically anything that'll absorb. And washing. Lots of washing. "I'll just have to make do." I play with Glory's little tiny fist, unable to stop staring at her.

  "I just can't get over how gorgeous she is," Sam exclaims. "Glory's the perfect name for her. I'm so glad she…" She makes a face and then stops.

  "Doesn't look like Gren?" I guess gently. "I was worried, too."

  "Well, we didn't know what she was going to be," Sam says lamely. "I'm sure you would have loved her no matter what."

  I would have. Looks don't matter. "Willa's happy with Gren. I've talked to him once or twice. He seems nice." I'd love Glory if she had a snout, absolutely. She's my baby. She's mine. I made her with my body. I can't describe to the others how that makes me feel, but I just want to shout from the mountaintops how amazing she is.

  "I'm happy for Willa. It could have been bad for her. I mean, she's so happy with Gren and that's great." Sam hugs her knees and watches as Bridget picks out a stitch. "Hannah's still fighting things, you know."

  "She is? J'shel seems nice. I thought she'd be happy." I haven't talked to the islander much, but J'shel is bright-eyed and eager and strong. Great body, too, though not as great as Vordis's. I frown to myself absently, because I shouldn't notice Vordis's body. I'm out of the running when it comes to resonating. I've got Glory to think about.

  "I don't know what's biting her ass," Bridget says, studying her handiwork. "He's cute, you know? Great hair. Brooke just wants to hold him down and braid him all damn day. And he's so nice to N'dek, too, always carrying him around. I thought she'd be happy she resonated before some of the rest of us."

  "You know how competitive Hannah is," Sam adds. "You’d think she’d be throwing this in our faces, but nope. She acts like she's miserable."

  "I think it's an act," Bridget tells Sam as an aside. "I told her the next time she bitches about him I'm going to tell Veronica to turn off her cootie like she did to Marisol and see how she likes it. That shut her up."

  "Wait," I interrupt, and I'm so startled that my voice is louder than it should be. Glory makes a restless little peep and I pick her up carefully again, moving her to my breast in case she wants to eat. Gail told me earlier that when in doubt, offer the boob, and I've taken her words to heart. I'm distracted, though. "What's this about Marisol?"

  The girls exchange a look. "You didn't know?" Sam asks. When I shake my head, she leans in and continues. "So they resonated on the island, right? But then that guy—T'chai—got super hurt. And then his wounds got infected. Really infected. His cootie's been fighting hard to keep him alive, but he hasn't exactly been getting better. And Mari's ultra-miserable because they can't do the deed and the damn cootie's telling her they need to fuck, right?"

  "So Veronica turned it off," Bridget adds, stabbing her thick bone needle through the tiny garment again. "She did something where she talked to the cootie in that voodoo way she does and made it go quiet. Said it was pulling him in too many directions for him to heal. Mari's is quiet, too. Now T'chai's getting better, but Mari's miserable because she doesn't know what to do."

  "That sounds…awful," I admit, and they nod sympathetically. "I had no idea Veronica could do that."

  "She didn't either," Sam says, leaning forward to poke at the coals with a stick. "Apparently she can. I don't know if she can turn it back on, though, but I guess it was a matter of life or death. At least T'chai's on the mend, right?"

  "Right," I say absently, stroking Glory's little cheek as she snuffles against my breast and starts to nurse. Right. Gosh. I think of Mari, who's been faithfully at T'chai's side since the islanders arrived. She's been so worried for him…and this is what she gets? I wonder if they still feel bonded or if that was turned off, too? Poor Mari. I hug Glory a little closer and I'm suddenly relieved that I got stuck with the mystery pregnancy while the others resonated. To think I was jealous.

  I'm not jealous now. I feel like I won the lottery.

  Someone clears a throat outside of my cave, and we all get quiet. Bridget and Sam turn around, curious, and then giggle when Vordis sticks his head in.

  “May I enter?” he asks, ever-solicitous.

  I hesitate, because after last night’s conversation, I’m not sure what to think of him. Yesterday, I was full of resentment at the thought of being an assignment. Today, I’m just sad. I know Vordis and Thrand think differently than humans, so I can’t be mad for not knowing something that they assumed I already was aware of. I can’t trust him like I did before, though. What if there’s something else he hasn’t told me?

  Living with aliens is complicated.

  “Sure, come on in,” I say, deciding to be gracious.

  He slips inside, his big shoulders hunched over, his hair brushing against the ceiling of the cave. With Vordis inside, things feel cramped and tight. Bridget and Sam exchange a look. “We were just heading out, anyhow,” Bridget says, putting away her sewing. “Hannah’s reorganizing storage again—you know how she gets when she’s stressed—and we promised we’d help.”

  “Right. Help.” Sam smiles brightly. “We’ll just leave you two alone.” And she giggles as they quickly leave my cave.

  Now I’m alone with Vordis and Glory. I shift on my blankets, trying to sit up a little straighter. As I do, the nursing blanket I have tossed over one shoulder slides to my lap and then I’m sitting in front of the big, red-skinned man completely topless, my breasts engorged with milk and Glory nuzzling at one nipple. Vordis’s gaze slides down and he stares for a moment, frozen, then swiftly turns his back to me.

  “Do I interrupt?” His voice is tight.

  “I’m just breastfeeding,” I tell him, blushing. I know it’s natural and I know that there’s nothing to be ashamed of. I’m not ashame
d, but I also think he was startled, and I feel a little guilty. Plus, my boobs feel huge at the moment, and well, it’s just awkward all around. I replace the blanket, covering my other breast and then tucking it around little Glory as she nurses at the other. “I’ve covered up a bit more. You don’t have to turn away.”

  “It is…fine.” He shifts on his feet and his hand passes in front of his loincloth.

  I blink at that, surprised. Is he…turned on? I put a hand to my hair. It’s sweaty and tangled, and even though I’ve had a towel bath since I gave birth, I’m not exactly feeling my sexiest. It’s flattering to think he might be turned on at the sight of me, but it just adds to the awkwardness of the entire situation. Everything’s different now that Glory is here. I can’t just think like lonely Angie anymore—I have to think like Glory’s mommy. “So you’re just going to talk to me like that? With your back to me?”

  “For…now.”

  Okay then. “I hope you don’t mind if I feed Glory. She’s hungry. I think. I have to admit I’m still figuring out this whole baby thing.”

  He rumbles with something that might be a chuckle. “I wanted to see what you wished to eat today. I will go and hunt it for you.”

  I frown at his shoulders. “That’s not necessary. The others have brought me a ton of food and drink so I don’t have to leave the cave. I can just stay here with the baby and rest up.”

  "Then I will stay here and protect you." Vordis gestures at the doorway. "I will wait there and will be silent so you can sleep."

  I'm frowning again. I don’t know what to say to make this moment less uncomfortable. Then, it hits me. “Knock knock.”

  Vordis tenses, then moves over to the screen and peeks out, as if checking who’s on the other side.

  I can’t help but laugh. “It’s a joke, remember? I say ‘knock knock’ and you say ‘who’s there.’”

  “Is this where I was supposed to get your hole but was too slow?” he asks, his tone reproachful.