Oh. Right. "Let's open the trunk. It looks like one of the settlement packages they give to human women when they're assigned a farm." I smile brightly at him and move toward the enormous box, touching the panel to open it. Sure enough, inside are dried pantry goods and household basics. I pick up the plas-wrapped blanket and hold the bundle out to him, then dig around for another. Hmm. Just one. Come to think of it, there had only been one small bed, too.
This…was not thought through very well. I frown, digging in the trunk a little deeper in case I missed anything. Soaps. Cleaning supplies. Menstrual supplies. A metal pot and a couple of mugs. "There's only one blanket." I get to my feet, plucking at the wet clothing that's sticking to my body and outlining my every roll and dimple. "I'll go speak to Herrix and tell him we need more—"
Victor steps between me and the door. He pushes the blanket toward me. "You take it. I'm not cold."
I'm not cold either, just uncomfortable, but my nose chooses that moment to tickle, and I sneeze again. Victor's features take on a stubborn look and he moves toward me, tugging at my collar.
I make a sound of alarm as he does, slapping his big hands away. "What are you doing?"
"Helping you undress." He says it gruffly, the annoyance still threading through his voice. "Then you are going to wrap up in the blanket and you're going to tell me about those bruises."
"Maybe I don't want to talk about the bruises," I say, pushing his hands away when he reaches for my collar again. "They really are none of your business."
"You don't want to talk about the bruises?" Victor's voice turns into a growl, and he scowls down at me. His eyes aren't red, though, so I take that as a good sign. "Fine. Then I want my champion's reward."
My brain must not be firing on all cylinders, because I have no idea what he's talking about. "Your champion's reward?" I echo. "What reward?"
He leans in, all tusks and teeth and bright, bright eyes. "My kiss. You said you'd kiss me if I went along with things." He gestures at our surroundings. "Here I am, not drinking the blood of my enemies. I am being docile…and I want my kiss. I want us to share breath."
I flush, a flutter of excitement in my belly at his demand. "Right now?"
"No," he says, and puts his hand on the bundled blanket, plucking it out of my grip and holding it in front of my face. "You are going to get under this without your clothes on. And then we are going to kiss. I have been very patient."
I swallow hard, my pulse thundering. "You're being very demanding," I say, but I take the blanket from him again and unwrap the plas-film covering off of it. The blanket underneath isn't very soft, but it's functional. "What if I were to tell you that I don't appreciate your tone and that I want you to speak to me like a friend? And that you don't make demands of friends?"
Victor leans in, bending over an absurd amount to try and come eye to eye with me. "I would agree with you. But I would also point out that you're stubborn and used to pushing others into giving you what you want, and that ends with me. We're equals."
"Fair enough." I point at the bathroom. "But I'm changing in there."
15
VICTOR
Bee smells keffing amazing.
I draw in great lungfuls of air, loving the slight scent that threads through the stale scent of the house. Even that's not so bad. There's a faint whiff of someone here long ago, the smell of dust, and everything else is Bee. Bee, whose scent has been growing steadily more enticing by the moment. Bee, who smells like faint arousal and curiosity, and the arousal part is growing more intense by the moment.
She did not like the rain quite like I did. Even now, I'm tempted to go out and stand in it once more, just to feel it on my face. It felt fresh, and new, and different. I love it, even though I've done my best to hide how much I liked it. Bee seemed less thrilled, and it made her sneeze, so I want her indoors. I'm tempted to race outside and see how far I can get before they catch me—always, always in the back of my head, there is a need to escape, to break free, to test the boundaries of my captivity. But I made a promise to Bee, and she is going to kiss me and let her breath mingle with mine, so I put off the escape once more.
I look around the small house for somewhere to sit. Nothing here is sized appropriately for me. It has been made for humans, and even the uncomfortable-looking metal chair in the living area looks barely big enough to hold Bee and will certainly not hold my weight. I glance in the bedroom, and the bed is narrow and short. My feet would hang off the end, provided that I did not destroy the mattress the moment I laid down.
There is only one bed.
It belongs to Bee, then. If she is staying with me, I want her comfortable. It is only right. She has given up all her freedom to be my companion, so the least I can do is give her the bed. I stare at it, and stare, my thoughts sliding toward that bed over and over again. She would not let me share it with her…would she?
It is ridiculous to even entertain such a thought, and I quickly push it out of my mind. I am a champion, I remind myself. I succeed at competitions and strive to win rewards. I have not thought further than this kiss, but…what if Bee does not like it? What if she is revolted by my mouth on hers?
If so, I do not think I would want more kisses. My mind floods with Crulden's fragmented memories, of females screaming and doing their best to race away as I chase after them, thrilled by their cries, their terror—
I shake my head and pace, trying to clear my thoughts. I must think of other things.
I will talk to Bee in the morning. Perhaps she will help me determine new rewards, after we share breath. If I disgust her, we will need to think of a new set of goals for me, a new series of prizes to be won. It is important to me that I make her proud. That she likes me. Bee's opinion is the only one that matters to me in all the galaxy.
"Hey Victor?" Bee calls from the lavatory. "I don't have a change of clothes with me, so I'm coming out in the blanket. You promise me that I can trust you?"
I am puzzled. What is not to trust in this moment? I look around, but I do not see anything that looks like a weapon. "I do not see what the two have to do with one another. Trust me with what?"
"You know."
"I assure you, Bee, I do not know."
"Can I trust you not to try and take the blanket from me?" Her voice is against the door, as if she is pressing against it.
Why would I take it from her? "I do not wish the blanket. I am not cold."
The door to the lavatory opens a crack, and Bee peeks out. "I mean…don't steal the blanket to try and look at my body, all right?"
I give her an incredulous look. Does she truly think I would do such a thing just to gaze at her teats and cunt? I am more interested in her mind and her thoughts…and that invitingly soft mouth of hers. "If I wished to see your body, Bee, I would not have insisted you get out of your clothes. I would have suggested you stay in them. They were wet enough that they showed everything."
"Great, thanks for that," she mutters. I hear fabric rustle, and then she gives a little sigh before opening the door fully. Bee gives me a dubious look, her wet hair hanging in damp waves around her rounded face. "I don't suppose hiding behind this door actually does anything anyhow."