I glance over at the guards in the hall, but they're not paying attention to us. They're talking about something, munching on the cookies I brought. So I decide to be a little bold. I lift Victor's hand higher and kiss the tip of his thumb, letting my lips skate over it. "Promise me you won't hurt yourself tonight," I whisper. "I can't bear it."
"I promise," he says, and devours me with his eyes.
10
BEE
After I leave Victor's quarters for the night, I pick up the now-empty cookie plate and pause. Should I say something to the guards? Make sure that they watch him closely? They're terrible guards, young men who don't pay attention to anything except idle chatter. I can't be angry, though, because it suits my purposes. I like that they're wretched at their job, because it gives me quiet time with Victor.
I decide not to say anything at all, because it'll feel like a betrayal if I do.
I decide instead to go straight to Lord va'Rin.
Even though I'm not invited, I take the long walk towards the large estate. The garrison compound is tucked between a few rolling hills and is maybe a fifteen-minute walk away from the actual estate. If we were back home, I'd say it was a few blocks, but there's no blocks here, just pastoral fields, fencing to denote property, and the occasional air-sled zipping overhead. I head straight for the main entrance of the large estate. There are several guards strategically placed around the decorative walls that surround the house and gardens, but since I know most of them, they just nod at me when I arrive and let me pass. The estate is massive. I haven't seen a lot of trees on Risda III—it's mostly rolling hills and plains in this part of the world—but there are several pretty varieties that frame the house, along with a few sculptures. Rock cobblestone walkways dance around the manicured lawns, and the exterior of the house itself looks like something out of a dream - space mansion meets old English castle. There are turrets on the four corners of the estate, which makes it seem a bit like a compound, but the windows and doors are all “space” modern. There's a distinct Earth-flavor to things, though, like the way that the lines of windows are tall, narrow points instead of squares, or the double doors that look as if they were shipped from Tudor England. It's like someone saw a picture of an Earth castle and said, "Let's make that on our end of space." Come to think of it, maybe that's exactly what happened, given that Lord va'Rin is known to dote on his human wife.
I march up to the door, determination in my step. I'm going to talk to Lord va'Rin about how Crulden—Victor—is self-harming and how we need to change his program, to show him more compassion. Maybe he's lonely and desperate and can't show it. Maybe there's something else going on. If we can't figure it out, maybe someone needs to stay with him at all times. I'll certainly volunteer. I raise my hand to knock—
The doors chime, and an access panel slides out of the wall to the side of the old-fashioned doors. "Please stand facing the doors so a retinal scan can be performed. When that is completed, state name and purpose of visit. Thank you."
"Oh, um, Bee Wilson, and my purpose is to talk to Lord va'Rin about—"
Before I can finish, the door opens and I take a step back in surprise. Riffin appears, a look of surprise on his face, wearing the livery uniform of Lord va'Rin's household guard. This must be his new assignment. Well…poop. Of all the timing. "Bee?"
"Wow, Riffin, hi. Small world."
He frowns at me, moving out to greet me on the doorstep. "I do not see what the size of the planet has to do with this situation, Bee. What are you doing here?"
Okay, well, I guess I can't get away from the situation. I resist the urge to wring my hands and instead put on my happiest, most efficient Bee-Gets-Shit-Done smile. "I'm here to discuss Victor's progress with Lord va'Rin."
"Victor?" he echoes blankly.
"The prisoner?"
His face immediately changes to a thunderous expression and he looks around angrily, as if to make sure no one else heard me. He shuts the door behind him and grabs my arm, hauling me off the elegant porch. "He's not a prisoner, Bee, and saying things like that is going to upset Lord va'Rin. He's doing his best to help that monster."
"But he's wearing a shock collar," I protest. "And he's not allowed to leave his room—"
"Would you let a creature like that loose in Port? Amidst all those helpless females?" Riffin hisses the words at me, clearly furious, and his fingers dig into my arm. "Be realistic, Bee."
I hate that his words make me feel guilty. Do I trust Victor in Port? Where so many of the women are damaged from their captivity and are afraid of aliens? I'm not sure of the answer. "He's not a creature. That's unfair."
Riffin shakes his head. "You should go home, Bee. You…" His face changes and he sniffs the air, confused. A moment later, his eyes flare with anger and he shoves me away from him. "That scent."
"What scent?"
His nose twitches and he bares his teeth at me. "You're aroused. By that monster?" His hand feels like a vise on my arm. "That filthy thing turns you on and yet I don't? Is that what you like? You want to be violated?" He flings me away from him, and I have to stagger to keep my balance. "Is that why you push me off, Bee? Because you're keffed in the head after what happened to you? Do you want me to be abusive to you? Will that turn you on?"
I back up, pressing against the wall, and I'm horrified at Riffin's anger. The things he's saying are awful, and yet I'm also kicking myself. I should have known that if I came here smelling like I was turned on, someone would notice it. I forget that the mesakkah—the blue, horned race of aliens that run the show—have sensitive noses. Maybe not as sensitive as Victor, but sensitive enough. The damage is done, though. I hadn't counted on running into Riffin, but maybe this is a blessing in disguise. "You're being unfair, Riffin. And it's time we talked about us anyhow."
"Us?" He laughs, the sound bitter as he paces back and forth. "I'm starting to think there is no 'us,' Bee. There's only me pushing you for things you clearly don't want." Riffin shakes his head, his horns glinting in the late afternoon sunlight. "I never thought I'd be competing with Crulden the Ruiner for my keffing female."
He makes it sound like I'm a prize to be won, and that's the nail in the coffin for me. "Maybe you should look at the reasons you want to be in this relationship with me," I point out. "It's certainly not because of who I am."
"Don't pretend you're the wounded party here, Bee." Riffin shakes his head again, then rakes a hand through his hair, mussing it. "Just…go home, all right? We'll pretend this never happened."
What the heck? Pretend this never happened? It's ugly and unpleasant, but in a way, it's a good thing. I'm sad to lose Riffin as a friend, but after what he's said just now, I don't think we can stay friends anyhow…much less dating. "I need to talk to Lord va'Rin first."
Riffin snorts. "Your timing is all wrong, then. He's off-planet with his wife."