Angie's Gladiator: A SciFi Alien Romance Page 14

  But Glory's a baby and like all babies, she recovers quickly. She chews on her fist for a moment, then makes that little fussy sound that tells me she's hungry. I open my tunic, setting her to my breast, and I'm relieved when she sucks lustily. Just like Liz said, now that she's got a khui, she's going to be healthy as can be.

  It's worth losing a bit of eye color for that.

  * * *

  By the time we get back to the camp that night, it's dark and I'm exhausted from being out all day. Even though Liz and I didn't do more than sit out with the babies and chat with the men as they worked to butcher the kill and strip the bones for use, I'm still wiped out. Vordis is at my side the entire time, and he guides me to my cave when my eyes threaten to drift closed even as I walk.

  "You rest," he tells me as he leads me into my cave. It's chilly inside, the fire dead. Vordis helps me take off my boots, then rubs his nose against mine lightly before helping me into my furs. "Tuck Glory under the covers with you. I will return with food and fuel for the fire, but first I must wash the grime from today's hunt off."

  "You'll be back?" I ask him, yawning.

  His eyes glow in the darkness and he touches my hand, then pulls the covers over me and the baby. "There is nowhere I would rather be."

  And even though I tell myself I'm going to stay awake and wait for him, I drift off into sleep, content.

  I have vague memories of Vordis rousing me with a kiss as he woke up at dawn, but I drift back to sleep, determined to get some more rest in before Glory wakes up. Her hungry wails are getting stronger by the day, and now she doesn't sound like a darling little bird when she's fussy—she sounds like a pissy ostrich, and since I'm new to being a mama, I do my best to keep her from getting upset. Eventually she awakens, and I sit in my cave, yawning as I feed her. Near the banked fire are a few baskets, and I pull the lid off of one, not entirely surprised to see that Vordis brought me breakfast, a mixture of trail rations, dried berries, and some roasted seeds. There's a pouch hanging over the fire with a flap pulled over the top to keep the contents warm, and when I touch it, the contents still have a bit of heat to them. Hot tea, or a broth.

  That man is perfect. He spoils me.

  Pleased, I relax in bed with Glory for a little while longer, counting her tiny fingers and toes for the millionth time, and playing peek-a-boo with her even though she's too little to play. I just like seeing her eyes widen when I make silly faces. She watches me, fascinated, and then drifts off to sleep again and I put her in her little basket and decide that I should tidy up my cave and rearrange the furs.

  After all, if Vordis is going to be staying with me for a while, I need to make more room for him. Humming with pleasure at the thought, I creep out to the storage area at the back of the central cave, nab a few of the rolled-up hides, and then start to re-make the bed.

  "Knock knock," a voice says as I smooth one of the furs over my sleeping spot.

  I look over, surprised to see Hannah. "Hi there!" My voice is a little more enthusiastic than I meant—I'm just so surprised to see Hannah out of all people. Bridget and Sam have dropped by several times to see Glory, and Gail, too. Liz and Harlow and Veronica I expect just to check on me.

  And Vordis. I love to see Vordis.

  But Hannah? We haven't really talked to each other much since arriving. For a while, I just drifted around and stared at the ocean waves, trying to cope with all the changes. I tuned out. Hannah coped with changes by declaring herself as Vektal's assistant and then micromanaging all the supplies.

  Sam likes to joke that Hannah's “helpfulness” is one reason why Vektal was one of the first ones to return back to the Croatoan camp. Something tells me she's not entirely joking.

  Poor Hannah means well, though. She just gets frustrated when people don't listen, and I suspect that between the sa-khui, the newly stranded women, the stranded gladiators, and now the islanders, it's a bit like herding cats. Her job as unofficial supplies taskmaster can't be fun right now. "I'm sorry if I took the blankets," I tell her. "I just needed a few extra."

  Hannah frowns, confused, then waves a hand as if she doesn't care. "I didn't come by for that. I thought I'd spend some time here today, say hello." She gives me a faint smile. "Say hi to the baby and all that."

  I straighten, curious. Hannah doesn't look well. Not unhealthy, of course—her eyes are as vivid a khui blue as anyone else’s, which means that her parasite's working perfectly—but she's got circles under her eyes that tell of sleepless nights, and she looks twitchy. Distracted. Her smile doesn't quite reach her eyes.

  "Have a seat," I tell her, gesturing at the big rock near the fire that serves as my visitors chair. "I have some breakfast and tea if you're hungry."

  She shakes her head, her expression distant. "Not hungry. Just came to hang out."

  "Do you mind if I eat?" I ask, checking Glory's blankets and nudging them in place as the baby sleeps. "It's easiest when she's down for a nap."

  "Oh, of course."

  I get one of the little bone bowls, scoop it into the breakfast mix, and then help myself. As I eat, Hannah sits there, silent. She doesn't watch me or the baby, really. She just kind of sits there off in her own thoughts, gazing at the wall as if not really seeing it. I notice her hair is pulled back in a series of pretty braids interwoven with one another, which means she ran into Brooke at some point this morning. Her tunic looks rumpled, as if she's been sleeping in it, and she picks at one of the stitches on the knee of her leggings.

  "So…how's it going?" I venture cautiously. "Are you happy here on the beach?"

  Hannah's brows furrow. "Happy? You make it sound like summer camp in the North Pole. No, I don't like it here. I hate using an outhouse, I hate eating the scorpion-things for dinner, and I hate all this roughing it crap. I'm a city girl." She shakes her head as if to clear it. "This is the last place I want to be, but we're not going anywhere, so I need to learn to like it, right?"

  My eyes widen a little. "I mean, it's not…ideal, sure, but this place isn't all that bad. I've had days where I don't like it, but it could be so much worse, Hannah, it really could. We have clean air, good food, warm beds, and people that are willing to help us survive. I'd rather be here than living as someone's slave."

  She makes a face. "I didn't mean to sound like a bitch, I just…" She buries her face in her hands. "Forget it. I'm just in a mood."

  "O-kay," I say slowly. "Is there something I can do to help? You seem unhappy."

  Hannah's bitter laughter floats out from beneath her hands and she straightens, then looks at me. "I'm hiding in here and avoiding the beach for the same reason you are. Sorry if I'm being a jerk. This is all just so stressful.”

  "Avoiding the beach?" I echo, confused. "What do you mean?"

  She studies me, as if she can’t decide if I’m pretending to be confused or legitimately puzzled. “Uh, the hut building competition?”

  “There’s a hut building competition?” I tilt my head, digesting that. “Why?”

  “Dude, you didn’t know?”

  For a moment, I want to cheerfully strangle her. “If I knew, would I be asking?”

  “Good point.” She purses her lips and then sighs. “Okay, well, I don’t want to be the one to break it to you, but here it is. Vordis and Thrand are competing to see who can build you the best hut so you’ll pick them to shack up with. Everyone else decided that they would play along, too, and so now all the guys are building huts thinking that it’s how you get laid. Basically it’s a goddamn clusterfuck and I want to smack J’shel in the face for joining in.” Her cheeks are bright red with anger, her eyes glittering. “I mean, who does that?”

  “They’re building huts because they think I’ll go with the winner?” I repeat slowly, not entirely sure I’m following. When she nods, I get to my feet and start to put on my boots. “Show me.”

  “Do we have to go out there?” Hannah asks, and when I just glare at her, she gets to her feet with a sigh. “Okay, fine.”

 
; I scoop up Glory out of her basket and tuck her against my chest, and then we head out of the caves. The moment we emerge, I hear the sounds of people working, the thump of logs, and a hollow-sounding hammering. Surely she’s wrong. They’re just building huts because they want to.

  But then I remember the pickle situation, and Thrand’s competitiveness. I think of how many times Vordis has misunderstood me, and a sinking feeling lodges in the pit of my stomach.

  They’re dedicated to me.

  They’ve said that over and over again, and perhaps I’m not understanding the full depths of just what that means. Maybe it doesn’t mean that Vordis really likes me after all. That the kisses are for Angie, the woman he wants to be with. Maybe he can’t get past the whole “dedicated” thing and thinks he should be with me just because he wants to win me away from Thrand.

  Oh god, I hope I’m wrong. I think of how wonderful last night was, the kisses we shared. The touches. The conversation. The silly, stupid knock-knock jokes that I love and that he tries so hard with. I could fall in love with the guy…but I don’t know that he wants me as much as he just wants to win, and that thought cuts like a damn knife.

  17

  ANGIE

  As we approach the beach, I see that it’s just as bad as Hannah said. She fusses with the edge of her sleeve, fidgeting as I stare out at the madness spread out on the sand. Did she say it was bad? I think it’s worse.

  Driftwood is everywhere. There are piles of it all over the sand, so much wood that I had no idea that vast quantity had washed up on the shores. Along with the driftwood, the guys are everywhere. Some work together, hauling logs into place with the help of a friend. Another rubs a rough edged rock down one log, smoothing it out. Two others of rival island tribes look as if they’re bickering over the nearness of each other’s half-finished huts, pointing and gesturing. Like Hannah said, there are a cluster of new huts in various levels of completion, and as I walk forward, disbelief on my face, I see a flash of red skin.

  Clutching Glory close, I head toward it. My stomach churns, and I feel nauseated, afraid of what I’m going to see. Sure enough, when I turn past another half-completed hut, I see two huts off to the side, next to one another. They’re both in varying stages of completion, and Thrand works on one, and Vordis works on the other. Their backs are to me and neither has yet noticed that I’m standing a short distance away. I watch them for a moment, gaping with surprise. Both huts are off the ground slightly, on a platform of logs and rocks, and Vordis’s particular hut doesn’t seem to be much more than just a floor. Thrand, however, is grabbing handfuls of a sloppy, mortar-like substance and slapping it onto rocks as he makes a wall, of all things. It’s not a neat wall, but it’s a wall all right, and judging from how much he has done, he’ll be finished way ahead of Vordis.

  Not that it’s a competition. I mean, what the ever-loving fuck is going on? Glory makes a fussy little noise and I automatically jiggle her, looking over at Hannah. She’s not paying attention, though. Her glassy, distressed gaze is locked on an almost completely finished hut a bit farther down, and I can see J’shel’s long braid as he smooths a rock over what looks like a rather impressive porch along the hut he must clearly be building for Hannah. I can hear her chest humming with resonance, but the look on her face is stricken, as if she sees an oncoming train and she’s helpless to stop it.

  I clear my throat, loudly. “What’s going on?”

  Vordis drops the log in his arms and nearly falls backward, losing his balance. He takes a few dancing steps in the sand, struggling to keep his balance, and then manages to catch himself. He turns around, looking at me in surprise—and pleasure. “Angie. You are out this day.” He frowns, brow furrowing as he steps over the log and moves toward me. “There is a bitter wind. You should stay close to the fire and keep warm.”

  I notice he’s sweaty and nearly naked, miles and miles of gleaming crimson skin before my eyes. He’s trying to distract me with all that glorious nudity, but I refuse to be distracted. Not by that, or the way he stalks toward me with predatory grace. Nope. “I want to know what this is about. Someone told me it’s a contest and I thought that must be wrong.”

  Thrand looks thrilled, shooting a triumphant glance over at Vordis. “It is a battle,” he says as he strides forward and gives Vordis a shove. “You shall pick the best hut and that male will win.”

  “I see. And I’m the prize?”

  Vordis’s mouth thins into a line of displeasure at the tone of my voice. “It is not a contest.”

  “Yes, it is,” Thrand insists. He gestures wide, indicating the men who are busy on the beach, constructing their own huts. “All of these males seek to win a female. That is why we are out here. That is why Vordis is here, too. He does it for you.” Thrand nudges his brother. “He cannot say that is incorrect, because we all know it is true.”

  Vordis just gives Thrand a lethal stare and then turns his frown in my direction. “It is cold,” he tells me, stepping forward. “You should not have Glory out here.”

  “Angie can go inside with her kit after she has chosen the victor,” Thrand says eagerly, crossing his arms over his chest. “Now is as good a time to choose as any.”

  “No,” Vordis says, but others are gathering to see the commotion. When I don’t move, he just sighs and then stalks back to his own half-built hut, picking up his fur-lined tunic that’s sitting, discarded, on a nearby rock. He moves toward me and offers it, nodding at the baby. “The breeze is bitter. Make sure she is warm.”

  I take it from him without a word of thanks, because I’m stewing on hurt and anger. A fucking hut contest to win a date. No, not to win a date. To win a freaking mate. That makes me even angrier. Here I’ve been encouraging Vordis and Thrand that there are no masters here, no reason to think they are a’ani slaves any longer, and they’re freaking bartering amongst each other for women? I’m so angry I can’t think straight.

  “So?” Thrand presses. “Which hut do you choose, Angie? Whoever loses can give the rest of his wood to the winner.”

  “You want me to choose?” I repeat, slowly. Deadly.

  Another man jogs up, all muscles and skin slick with sweat. He wears nothing but a brief fur loincloth, and I realize it is A’tam, the gorgeous one from the cat clan. “Are we picking mates now? I want Bree-shit.”

  “Bridget! Goddamn it, it’s Bridget!” shouts a voice down the beach. “Can’t anyone say my fucking name right?”

  I didn’t realize Bridget was nearby. It seems Hannah has followed me out, because I hear her speak up next. “I like how that’s the part you’re upset about,” she says, voice dry. “Not the part about being handed off to a guy, just the name thing.”

  “Dude, have you seen the way A’tam looks?” hisses someone else, voice too low to be identified.

  Bridget just giggles hysterically.

  Thrand puts up his hands, indicating silence. “Angie picks first. Then the other males can decide on their females.”

  “I did not know it was two different hut battles,” someone from Tall Horn complains in a mutter.

  I just want to start screaming at everyone. I look at Vordis, but his face is expressionless, his body stiff as if he, too, is waiting to see who I pick.

  “Well?” calls A’tam. “What say you, female? Pick one of the a’ani so the rest of us may choose our mates.”

  “What do I say?” I echo. “How about ‘how fucking dare you?’”

  Thrand frowns, his triumphant expression disappearing. The beach grows completely silent.

  Everyone's staring at me, and I don't know if it's because I'm about to blow my top, or if it's because they really honestly think I'm going to sit here and choose between the two red assholes in front of me. Either way, they are about to get a damn show. I hold Vordis's tunic closer to Glory, shielding her as if to keep her safe from the anger I'm about to spill. "Shame on you both," I say loudly, and my baby peeps in outrage, her little fists flailing. "I can't believe you, bartering as if
I don't have a choice in the matter. As if I'm a prize to be won and not a person. How would you feel if your future was decided for you by someone else? You've had that happen in the past, right? It doesn't feel good, does it?"

  Thrand narrows his eyes at me, scowling. Vordis just looks as if he's carved from stone, his expression impossible to read. I want him to tell me that I'm wrong, that I'm reading things incorrectly, that he's not making a hut in some dick-swinging contest with Thrand.

  But he doesn't say anything.

  I shake my head. "I'm disgusted with both of you. No, I'm disgusted with all of you. These people saved us from slavery. We have a chance to start over again, and instead, you men are acting like women are toys to be divided up amongst you." I hold Glory close as she gives another distressed little sound. "But I'm especially disappointed in you, Vordis. And you, Thrand. I thought you were both better than that. I can see I was wrong, and I'd like for you both to stay very far away from me from now on. I don't want to see you both ever again, but I know that's not likely to happen. It's a small beach and a small tribe. So just…do me a favor and leave me alone."

  And I turn away, my outrage hiding the furious tears that are threatening to spill over. I'm just so dang hurt. After the wonderful kisses we shared last night, the way he held me, and how close we've been getting…he's competing with Thrand to win me? Like I'm a stuffed bear at a carnival? I'm just shocked and offended and I feel betrayed.

  He's always said he felt differently about me than Thrand has, so why are they doing this?

  "I can't believe you guys are such jerks," Nadine calls out. "What a dick move, both of you."

  "Yeah, you guys are real pricks," Hannah adds. "This is so thoughtless of you. Why didn't you just wait to freaking resonate?"