Five to Love Him (Phoenix Immortal: Hive #1)

36. HIVE

thirty-six

W e were exhausted and scared. Leo’s teddy bear, Bruno, had been sitting close to the bed as he always did, and we’d ended up hugging him with one. We had failed Leo, and as we huddled in the bedroom, we listened for the sound of the door downstairs. He had every right to leave us. We had been so foolish to be lured—all the memories of that day came back to us, bright in our mind as if it had happened only yesterday.

We didn’t remember the name of the human in-the-know whom we had trusted, which was funny. We’d run into him a few times before at a former speakeasy that had been turned into a restaurant for supernaturals, nothing like what Newstaten offered, but nice enough for us back then.

That first human, we would often flirt with him. We’d never been shy, had been generous with our affections. We’d always been conscious of our size, and yes, maybe by being gregarious, we’d wanted to make up for being small.

He’d been flirting with us again when he told us of what he called an opportunity. We had been dumb, so very dumb. If it had been Leo in our shoes, we knew we’d have warned him right away, would have wanted to keep him away from that person and those unfounded promises he’d made us.

But we’d known nothing back then, nothing that was important. We’d thought the wide world was a wonderful place, and that humans were interesting and mostly kind.

The memories that followed were disjointed, but we remembered standing in a showy living room with the mounted heads of wild animals displayed on one wall and thinking, no, we want to leave, we should run.

To this day we didn’t know what type of tranquilizer we’d been injected with, but with the glass eyes set in dead faces staring at us, we’d assumed it was something that was used on animals.

When we’d woken up, we’d been so groggy.

You see, your friend owed me, and you are payment. His breath had smelled. He’d smelled. The stench in the room, after, had not been enough to drown out the scent of blood. We’d cried, had cleaned ourself.

In the other room where we were supposed to do the work, one of his helpers had held a gun to one of our heads during. We’d looked at the muzzle, and we’d not been able to be afraid of getting shot. Still, we had been frozen. We had been numb.

And like we were now, we’d been so very exhausted, especially since that human came into the room once, maybe twice a day.

There were footsteps on the stairs, and from their sounds we knew they were Leo’s. We were so ashamed. We didn’t know how we were going to face him now.

The door opened slowly, and we saw him, his handsome face, the green splinter in his left eye, the light hair we loved running our fingers through so much. He was carrying a tray.

“I made you tea. Fresh mint and chamomile from the garden. There’s honey in it too, and I brought the mochi as well.”

“The mochi are for you,” we said. We’d bought them for after dinner today because it was Friday, and we always stayed up late on Fridays.

“Yup, and now I’m giving them to you. I called everyone. You don’t have to worry about anything today, okay? It’s my turn to take care of you.”

For some reason, the sound of the key turning in that door’s lock, then the door opening and closing behind that human, replayed in our head. We weren’t able to turn it off.

“Sorry,” we said.

“Shh. You did nothing wrong, hive. I love you very much, and I don’t think there’s a single thing that you did wrong, not a one.”

He went to the one who had curled up. It was the one who’d borne the pain as we’d stared down the muzzle of that gun on that very first day of our captivity. We’d forgotten that, until today.

Leo stroked that one, careful as if he might hurt us, but we’d borne so much with that one. A hive was strong. A hive could endure. We couldn’t change that we were such a small hive.

“What was that?” Leo asked.

We blinked tears out of our eyes. We hadn’t been aware we’d been talking.

“Nothing. It was nothing.”

Leo placed that one’s head on his lap and stroked him.

“You’re a little cold to the touch. Hey, don’t go getting frostbite in summer, okay? Come on, sit up. I know you like fresh tea.”

“You don’t have to be here. You don’t have to take care of us. We are…we know we aren’t what you might have wanted in someone like a mate.”

“Hive, I love you. You did nothing wrong. You are the best thing that has ever happened to me, and that’s not going to change anytime soon. I don’t mind telling you over and over, and it’s totally okay to be resting, but please just drink something and let me get you warm. I’m worried about you, so please.”

He was our gleaming one, so we complied, sat up. That one he was still stroking hurt. The other one who’d been in the room as well did too. All of us had at least a headache, but the pain sat deeper, had crept into our joints. It was especially bad in that one.

With a pang, we wondered what would happen if we were only four. Maybe four wouldn’t be too bad. We’d still be able to take care of Leo with four.

Leo kissed that one’s lips, and fire rushed through us, warming and settling.

“I love you. You don’t have to be ashamed. You did nothing wrong, and you are beautiful. Hive, please don’t be ashamed.”

We wanted to give Leo what he wanted. Perhaps that way he would keep us. He had given us so much—a purpose, most of all. We wanted to do everything for him, but we could barely move. It was embarrassing, and we knew we were failing him but were unable to stop ourself.

“Here, come on, you have to try these mochi. I don’t know what it is about that soy sauce filling, but it’s so good.”

Leo was insistent, focusing his attention on the one who had gone limp, maybe like a hand that had fallen asleep or a limb full of poison that needed to come off. We watched as he whispered in that one’s ear, so patient, and held the soft and sticky mochi to his mouth.

That one’s lips were dry, looking cracked. We weren’t sure we felt it.

“Hive. Shit, come on. What do I do, what do I fucking do? Hey, hive.”

He shook the shoulder of another one. We blinked at his fingers.

“Can you hear me?” he asked.

“Yes. We’re really fine. You shouldn’t worry about us, Leo. We’ll be fine.”

“You’re not okay, but I’m going to help you. Look, is there anyone I should call? I can’t believe I’ve never asked you this before, but what about your family? Can I call them? Your dad is a hive too you said, right?”

“Hives are not very attached to their families. It’s just our nature.”

“Fine. Okay, fine. But there has to be another hive in this fucking city that I can call and ask for help right? Do you know one?”

We nodded. “Yes. They’re nice. We had breakfast, once by accident, and then again because we planned it.”

Leo let out a breath. “Great. You have their number?”

We wondered whether he would want to swap us for another hive. That one had a gleaming one themself, so that wouldn’t work, but perhaps Leo would keep looking, and maybe he would find a hive who was better. Perhaps the gleaming wasn’t what we’d been taught, wasn’t a mark for us specifically but signaled a human that could become a match to a hive. Perhaps while Leo still gleamed, he was like wet clay and could still find another hive to mold himself to.

“Yes. It’s in our phone.”

“Awesome.”

Leo shifted and began patting down the one who had been at work. We still had only the one phone, and he knew we took it to work usually.

“But that hive…” we started, though we couldn’t bring ourself to say more.

“I’m sorry, but I’m going to need one of your thumbprints to unlock this phone, okay? I’m just trying to help.”

“Of course. We want only the best for you.”

We held out a hand, and Leo unlocked the phone. We didn’t think he’d have much trouble finding the other hive. Our contact list was short, and sure enough, he was soon pressing the phone to his ear.

“Yeah, hi, thanks for picking up. My name is Leo Hill, and I’m this hive’s gleaming one. Oh, good, glad he talked about me. Look, you’re a hive as well, right? I’m not used to them saying ‘I.’ Okay, thanks. Listen, something is wrong with my hive, and I don’t know what to do. I can’t do shit to help them. Can you…I don’t know, but can you come over, please?”

The hive would know that there was nothing that could be wrong with us, not really. He would tell Leo so, and Leo would know that we were weak, pathetic. As a hive’s gleaming one, he had gotten the short stick.

“We’re sorry,” we mumbled.

“Hive, I fucking love you, and you did nothing wrong,” Leo said, now crying himself.

That was our fault. Of course he was crying, having someone as weak as us sneaking into his life.

We had failed him. We were a failure, in every way.