Pretty Human Read online

  Whatever it is, I’m not getting attacked just yet, so I’ll take it as a win.

  “Well, friend, you can call me Milly,” I tell him happily.

  VARRIK

  I don’t know why I’ve brought the human to the party.

  Milly. I don’t know why I’ve brought Milly to the party, I correct myself. She’s a person, not a thing. The other lords and ladies here are sure to notice, and that means gossip. I’ve avoided gossip studiously for all of my life, but tonight, it seems I’m courting it. Everyone stares as I move toward the head table, pausing every so often to accept the greetings of lesser lords and ladies. There’s a hierarchy here, and I’m at the top of it, so they bow to me, not the other way around.

  At my side, the human stays close, her skirts dragging on the floor, her bare feet peeping out from underneath. I didn’t realize that she didn’t have shoes, and for a moment, I’m irritated at Ahiri. Why would she not dress the human appropriately? The skirts are too long, the cleavage too deep, and no shoes?

  Of course, I suspect the human was never meant to leave Lord As’bro’s chamber, and the thought fills me with a cold rage. I imagine him over her, rutting, her long skirts hiked up, and I want to break something. Even though I shouldn’t touch her, I put a hand on the human’s shoulder and pull her closer to me.

  Milly looks up, her cheeks full of tiati cake. “Sorry, am I in the way?”

  “You’re fine.” I gesture at one of the servants in yellow livery, indicating they should bring more food and drink for my, ah, guest. I remember how her stomach rumbled, and given that she has no shoes, it’s not a stretch to imagine that it’s been some time since she ate properly. No wonder she was eager to come down to the party. Even now, she stares around her with wonder, and as I watch, she pops another tiati into her mouth, crunching down.

  I try not to wince. At some point, I should tell her that you’re supposed to unwrap it from the crinkly, delicate paper each cake is wrapped in. She’s eating the entire thing, which is sure to make Ahiri and her cohorts titter.

  A servant brings me food and drink, bowing in front of me, his tray too high for Milly to reach. I clear my throat and when he looks up, I tilt my head, silently indicating that the food and drink is for her. The mortified servant stoops, holding the tray as Milly picks at the food, then stuffs it into her hands and pops another crinkling cake into her mouth.

  I make my way to the table emblazoned with my house symbol and seat myself at the head. I should be mingling with the other lords, letting them cozy up to me for approval or favors, and gathering information on those not here…but I don’t have the interest. I’m far more interested in the female at my side.

  I sit, and Milly hesitates, swallowing hard. “Should I sit on the ground, uh, master? I’m guessing I shouldn’t sit in one of the chairs.”

  She’s astute. The chairs are only provided for nobility. Even so, I don’t like the thought of her sitting at my feet like some sort of pet. Milly hovers awkwardly at my side, then starts to sink to the floor.

  “No,” I say, stopping her. I look at one of the hovering servants. “Bring her a stool.”

  A moment later, a footstool is brought and Milly sits down gratefully, oblivious to the fact that I’ve just shown her great favor by letting her sit at my side instead of a few steps behind me. I glance around the room and sure enough, the other lords and ladies have their heads together, whispering, and the only ones not staring at us are the dancers in the middle of the floor.

  And for some reason, I’m enjoying myself. I take a glass of farhis wine when a servant offers it and get one for Milly as well. She takes the glass and sips, then makes a dreadful face, and my mouth twitches with amusement.

  “That sip you just took cost hundreds of credits,” I murmur, lifting my glass.

  “I hear water is free,” she mock-whispers to me. “And it tastes much better.”

  I bite back a grin. She’s not afraid to speak her mind. Refreshing. I watch her as she stares around us, her gaze on the dancers as she eats more of the dainty cakes that are meant to be sampled, not gorged upon. Her face is lit up with wonder, her pink tongue stealing out to lick an icing-smudged fingertip and my cock grows hard at the sight.

  “What do you think?” I eventually ask, unable to ignore her.

  “Of the party?” She looks around and then leans toward me. “I think I’m the only human here and I probably shouldn’t be here at this party with you, judging from the stares everyone’s sending our way.”

  I nod slowly. “Probably not, but it is too late for such things now.”

  “Me at your side is like having a big wine stain on your sleeve, isn’t it?” Milly questions.

  “Worse,” I say, and then take another sip of the fine farhis. “Two wine stains.”

  She snort-giggles, the sound loud and uncouth and utterly full of amusement, and I’m completely charmed. I’m fascinated by this cake-devouring, giggle-snorting delicate creature. Lady dra’Niiron is probably furious, but I find I don’t care. Let her focus her mating hopes on some other lord. I don’t have to look for Ahiri to know she’s pouting in a corner somewhere, telling others about my “penchant for disgusting alien flesh.” It will be all over gossip circles tomorrow, and the talk of the rest of this too-long keffing party.

  For the first time in a very long time, I don’t care, either. I look over at Milly, who’s licking her thumb, her eyes going wide as the troupe of dancers performs an acrobatic spin. She could have been terrified of me, of this place, of the party. Instead, she sits at my side, talks to me as if she’s allowed such a thing, and eats heartily whereas Lady dra’Niiron would not let herself be seen putting anything but wine near her mouth.

  I’m fascinated by the human. She’s the breath of fresh air I didn’t know I needed.

  * * *

  Some time later, I notice Milly has stopped eating cakes and has returned to drinking the farhis wine. She grimaces with each swallow but drinks with such determination I immediately know what she’s thinking.

  She’s preparing to serve me as she would have served Lord As’bro—in bed. And she wants to be drunk for it.

  I get to my feet. “Come, little Milly. It is time for us to retire.”

  “Right.” She jumps to her feet, smoothing her skirts nervously, and wobbles. She blinks slowly several times, then nods as if to herself. “I’m good. I’m good.”

  “Of course you are.” I still offer my arm, a shocking thing amongst polite mesakkah society. I am the highest-ranking lord. I do not assist anyone.

  But Milly takes it and clings to me for balance, and I lead her out of the boisterous party. As we head out, I see Lady dra’Niiron watching me with narrowed eyes, her mouth pinched with anger. She is a problem I will deal with some other time.

  I lead Milly up the stairs, and she immediately stumbles on her too-long skirts, pitching forward. It happens twice, both times saved by her grip on my arm, before I decide twice is enough. I pick her up, hefting her easily into my arms. She’s very light, this human, and trusting, too. Milly immediately sighs and presses her face against my neck, mumbling something sleepily.

  I carry her to my chambers, nod to indicate that my servants should clear out, and then gently lay Milly down in the bed. My bed. I shove a million of the ridiculous pillows aside and tuck her under the blankets, then move to a nearby chair.

  It’s where I’ll be sleeping tonight.

  3

  MILLY

  I wake up after the best night’s sleep I’ve ever had to see my new owner slumped over in a prissy-looking chair, his mouth slightly open as he snores.

  Oh Jesus.

  I sit up in horror, realizing I’m the one in the bed. I’m pretty sure that’s not supposed to happen. After watching all the other horned blue people last night, I realized a few things about them, mostly that they put human aristocracy to shame. They’re snooty as all get out, rigid in their manners, and basically looked at me like my owner had set a monkey at the
table with him. I’d downed a lot of the horrible tasting wine because I’d overheard some of the whispers about how depraved he must be, and that freaked me out. If he was depraved, I didn’t want to be sober for any of it. So I got horribly, terribly drunk…

  And it seems I’m in the bed and he’s not. At any other time, I would think it was sweet. Chivalrous, even. Right now though, I’m just terrified he’ll wake up and realize our positions should be reversed and then I’ll get in trouble.

  As quietly as I can, I slide out of the bed and cross the room, tiptoeing out. I manage to shut the door behind me without waking him and move down the hall. Before I can even get to the stairs, someone in a yellow uniform is approaching me, frowning.

  He takes one look at my rumpled hair and wrinkled dress and his expression changes from disapproval to disgust. “Where is your master?”

  “Um, he’s sleeping?” I gesture back at the room. “I thought he shouldn’t be disturbed. I—”

  The butler grabs me by the arm and hauls me along with him. “Come. You can stay with the rest of his servants in their quarters, then.”

  “Oh, okay—”

  “No talking,” he bites at me, glaring.

  I shut up, startled at how nasty he is. Jeez. Come to think of it, my master’s the only one that’s been halfway kind to me and he hasn’t even told me his name. Distressed, I let the servant drag me along with him. We cross through several halls in the massive manor house before we get to an area that’s a little more rundown, a little less decorated, and the doors are smaller and tighter. Behind them, I can hear the hum of voices. Clearly these are the servants’ quarters.

  The butler escorts me in, past groups in different colored tunics, until he spots a man in the dark blue of my owner’s uniforms. With a sound of relief, the butler pulls me after him. “This is your master’s problem,” he declares to the man in dark livery. “Take her off my hands, will you? Lady dra’Niiron will have a fit if she sees her in the halls.”

  “Of course.” The new servant—the one in blue—takes my arm as if I can’t hold myself up and frowns down at me. He’s one of the blue guys with horns, but his features are rougher than my master’s and he doesn’t look friendly at all. In fact, he looks at me like a very nasty bug crawling across the carpet. “I see you’re my problem now.”

  “Hi,” I say brightly, determined to try and make the best of things. I stick out my hand for him to shake. “I’m Milly, and I’m new—”

  “You can’t wear that,” he says immediately. “I can’t believe they put such an expensive dress on a such a creature.” His nostrils flare with distaste and he leaves the room as the other servants in blue snicker behind their hands. “Come on. Let’s get you changed. If you’re my problem now, I guess I’ll put you to work until I get official instructions as to what to do with you.” He glances over at me. “Unless you know what he’s planning on doing with you?”

  “What do your fancy lords normally do with humans?” I ask innocently. I can guess, but I’m also hoping I’m just a little bit wrong. Maybe they just want buddies. Maybe they want someone to walk their pet poodles. Something nice and benign.

  His lip curls in my direction and he stares at my cleavage.

  “Yeah, that’s what I figured,” I mutter, hiking my dress higher.

  “Do you need to bathe?” he asks. “I can’t smell anything over the stink of you.”

  I stink? I resist the urge to sniff my own armpit. “I just washed last night—”

  “That’s fine, then.” He leads me down a hall. “If he calls for adult company tonight we’ll make sure you’re freshly washed, but for cleaning boots, I suppose you’ll do.” He heads into a small room with stacked cots and a bunch of high-tech-looking computer stuff along one wall. Before I can peer too closely at the technology, though, he thrusts a folded set of laundry into my hands. “Change into this. It’s the smallest size we have. I’ll wait out here for you.”

  He closes the door before I can ask anything else.

  I eye the beds in the room but don’t prod the computers. This feels a bit like someone’s private chambers—or a hotel room—and I wouldn’t want to intrude on anyone’s privacy. I quickly shimmy out of my pretty—if scratchy—dress and put on the soft tunic. To my delight, it has fasteners that move with a touch, and a belt that fits itself to my waist, making the fit perfect. Once I’m in the blousy, loose pantaloons and the tunic top, I fold my expensive dress as best I can and then open the door again.

  The other servant is there, with a pair of fabric slippers in his hand that look twice as big as my feet. He frowns at the sight. “This won’t do.”

  “I’ll take them,” I say, before he can snatch them up. “It beats bare feet. I’m Milly, by the way.” I’ve already introduced myself, but maybe he wasn’t listening? “What’s your name?”

  “Aldar,” he says, and produces a metallic-looking ring. “You’re also probably going to need one of these.”

  The ring looks too big to be a bracelet but too small to be a belt. “Um, what is it?”

  “A tracking collar for slaves.”

  I swallow hard. “Oh.” I glance up. Aldar isn’t wearing one.

  “Before you ask, yes, it has a built-in alert to the premises. If you try to leave, it’ll shock you.”

  For the first time since I arrived, I feel like crying. A slave collar. “I don’t have anywhere to go,” I say dully. “Nowhere at all. My home is light years away.”

  If I’m expecting sympathy, Aldar has none. He makes an impatient face at me. “I don’t know what a light year is and I’m not even going to ask. Just get the collar on and let’s get you to work. Can you operate a cooking droid?”

  I try not to flinch as he takes the collar from my hands, impatiently turns me around with rough hands, and snaps it on my neck. It slithers tight to fit, and I swallow hard, touching it. I’m a slave. Property. A leashed dog. “A cooking droid? I…um, know how to work a stove. Kinda.”

  Aldar makes another impatient noise. “We’ll find you something to do. Just sit here and wait like a good girl.”

  Well, now I feel even more like a dog.

  * * *

  I’m in the middle of shining a huge, oversized boot with some gunky concoction when a horned, blue woman rushes into the servants’ quarters. She makes a high-pitched sound of panic in her throat, grabbing everyone’s attention. Her gaze is frantic as she looks around the room, wringing her hands. “Where is it?”

  “Where is what?” Aldar asks, frowning as he steps forward. I’ve learned in the few hours that I’ve been here that Aldar is in charge of the blue-garbed servants—of which I am one—and he doesn’t like for anyone to sit around and look bored. “What’s the problem, Nima?”

  “Lord va’Rin,” she pants, her hand trembling as she presses it to her chest. “He—he wants his human. He found out she wasn’t in his bed and he’s furious. I’ve never seen him so upset.”

  I didn’t think it was possible for a blue-skinned guy to turn pale, but Aldar looks rather sickly. He immediately turns to me, his gaze steely.

  “What?” I ask, holding up the boot in my hands. “I’m just doing what you told me to do.”

  “There she is,” Nima yelps, rushing forward. “Oh, keffing hells, she’s covered in boot black. He’s going to lose his mind—”

  “Nima!” Aldar barks. “Such language is unbecoming of a servant of Lord va’Rin, the first in his house! Mind your tongue!”

  Nima licks her fingers and wipes at a smudge on my cheek I didn’t realize was there.

  “Get up,” Aldar says to me, snatching the boot from my hands. “Come. If he wants you, we need to get you up there.”

  I want to be smug that he noticed I was gone, except there’s a real possibility he wants to yell at me for sleeping in his bed, just like he yelled at Nima for me being gone. Who knows what a spoiled lord wants, after all? I let Aldar take the boots from me, wipe my hands on the cloth he gives me to get the worst of the bootbla
ck off, and then follow behind him, my overlarge shoes slapping against the pretty marble tile of the floor with every step I take.

  It’s the longest journey back to the lord’s quarters, and I try to remember what they called him. Varrin? Varon? Something like that. I hope they say it again so I can memorize it. I need some bit of information to anchor myself to, some hint of knowledge that won’t leave me feeling so very lost, isolated and utterly alone.

  Aldar knocks at the double door, and then enters a moment later, a firm hand on my shoulder. He goes inside and I catch a glimpse of my master—the tall, elegant one with the sweeping arch of horns—by the window. He turns, but before I can meet his eyes, Aldar is bowing at the waist and remains bent, his expression averted.

  Oh, protocol. Shit. I mimic him, bowing deeply and staring at the floor. I figure someone will let me know when it’s okay to get up. When in doubt, go for boot-licking obedience, right?

  A hand touches my shoulder, and then fingers curl around my chin. “Look at me, pretty human.”

  That soothing, deep voice feels like a strange balm on my nerves. Suddenly I know he’s not going to yell at me for being in his bed. There’s too much patient affection in his voice. I straighten and give Lord Varrin/Varon/whoever a bright smile. “Good morning.”

  His gaze—just as intense as I remembered—moves over my face and then stops. The expression in his eyes goes cold in an instant, and he touches the collar at my neck. “Who put this here?”

  Oh shit. That is definitely the tone of someone about to get in trouble. It feels like the temperature in the room drops by several degrees. “They thought you would want it on me, since I’m your property.”

  “‘They’?” he asks. “Who is ‘they’? Because ‘they’ are wrong.”

  “I don’t know,” I say brightly, pretending ignorance, and decide to lie through my teeth. “Some guy in a yellow uniform. I’m sure he meant well. So we can take it off? I promise not to run. Like I said, I’ve got nowhere to go.”