Chapter 18 – Not Here to Make Friends
We were supposed to spend more time together on Day Five, so it worked out well that Silver Sea had nabbed the promotional footage for me to share.
I'd been intending to invite Araxis over to watch some media anyway, but this was a better excuse.
We finished up running through a set of exercises in the hot training room that evening, both of us breathing hard.
I was dripping sweat everywhere and had pulled my shirt off, using the damp fabric to wipe my forehead.
"So," I said as Araxis pretended not to stare, "my handler sent me a copy of the video package with everyone's introductions.
Want to come back to my room and watch it? "
He agreed – of course he did – and we decided to meet in my room after I'd had time to shower and he'd put together some food.
I put away the practice blades before scrubbing myself clean, shrugging into one of the many loose robes that hung in the locker room because there was no way I was putting my sweat-drenched clothes back on.
I was just stepping into the hallway leading up to the main stairwell, the robe belted tightly around my waist, when I set eyes on the other abaya, Andiri of Creche Ena, trailing down the stairs.
Her chin jerked up as she saw me, eyes flaring wide as her unbound crest puffed out behind her with a loud rustle.
I stopped, hesitating at the door. That was a weird reaction.
"Uh, hi," I said distantly, the skin at the back of my neck prickling.
Andiri's eyes narrowed as she edged down the last few steps. She slid herself tight against the outer wall of the hallway, as far away from me as she could be, and glared. Her talons – unfiled, sharp enough to cut; I’d noticed that right away because every other abaya I’d met had kept theirs trimmed back – made hollow ticking sounds on the polymer behind her.
My eyebrows shot up. I held the bundle of my clothes tight against my chest. "I haven't seen you around much," I tried, stepping carefully into the hallway and toward the staircase. "Do you mostly train at night? Are you used to a different day cycle?"
A low rumble sounded from her throat, but it wasn't distress or contentment. Instead, it sounded like a growl.
I remembered, in a flash, how uneasy Vivith and Araxis had been when we'd reviewed Andiri's file. They'd said she would be unpredictable, dangerous, brittle. I hadn't gotten it then – but I thought I might finally begin to understand.
"Cool," I said distantly, trying for a smile. "Well, I'm meeting Araxis upstairs so…" I gestured to the stairs, like she might not know where I was going.
She scowled and then jerked her head down, staring hard at the floor. She was still pressed firmly against the wall, unmoving. Her bare feet flexed against the polymer, her hands jammed behind her back.
I inched forward toward the stairs, keeping my eye on her. She couldn't do anything – participants couldn't hurt other participants – but she seemed… feral. "Uh," I started, hesitating.
"Just. Go." The words tore out of her, almost a snarl, although she didn't move. Andiri's head was still tilted down, almost submissive except for the way she'd started shaking, like she was barely restraining herself.
So I went. I hurried up the stairs, only looking back once I'd reached the landing.
She was already gone.
Good enough for me. I continued to the stairwell that led to the apartments, which meant that I couldn't flash my thighs at Araxis by going past the kitchen – but he'd seen it all already.
And I'm sure he'd appreciate my legs all the same when he met me in my apartment.
When I pushed out of the stairwell and into my familiar hallway, though, there was someone already waiting for me.
"See, I knew you wouldn't be able to resist," I said, tone flat. I wished very badly that I wasn't wearing just a robe. I wished very badly that I was holding my swords.
Grigor Spade was leaning against the wall opposite from my door, and the look he shot me when he angled his face my way was pure venom. His stare raked me over, lip curling. "This is what I mean," he said, pushing himself up. "Can't reason with that."
"What, because I had a shower and I'm wearing a robe?" I snapped. "I hadn't realized cleanliness was such a threat."
He made a tutting sound, shaking his head. "It's not the robe, Alikander, and you know it. Shepherd Barreth says, The rightful place of man is –"
"You don't need to quote a Shepherd at me.
" I didn't want to listen to that shit. What I wanted was to go to my room, but I also couldn't compel myself to move further into the hallway, not when the skin of my bare legs was pebbling in the cold, my clothes clutched to my chest, my body screaming that I was in danger.
My fingers twitched as I contemplated my wristband.
Could I send a message to Silver Sea? Although – of course this was all being filmed.
I had to remind myself that. This was being filmed.
How could I use that?
"Is the problem that I like to fuck aliens?
" I asked in Standard, schooling my face to what I hoped was very pretty confusion.
"I know Seraphim thinks that inter-species relationships are wrong.
Let not our righteous blood be co-mingled with the wickedness from among the stars.
Of course, it's not blood I'm co-mingling, so I'm not sure that applies. "
Grigor's jaw twitched. I could almost hear him grinding his teeth tighter and tighter as the words rattled through his translation chip. "I'm making an offer," he ground out. "Come back to Seraphim and your debt will be forgiven."
"And what about my sins?" I asked mildly, studying him.
Did they really think I would? Did they think that they could send someone like this and persuade me to return?
It didn't make sense and I wanted it to.
No matter how often I reminded myself not to care, it was hard to avoid it: they'd upended my entire life, and for what? Why were they still hounding me?
"That depends on if you repent. It's between you, your Shepherd, and God. No matter what I think." At his side, his hands had curled into meaty fists.
"If you're here as a PR move," I said, aiming for a breezy delivery that came out a little breathless, "they definitely sent the wrong person. Or do I just rattle you that much? Were you waiting outside my apartment for a private conversation, or were you hoping to buy some of my time?"
I waited as the words filtered through his chip. I could track the progress by the colour of his face, which grew progressively redder and splotchier. If I just kept insisting on camera that he wanted to fuck me, would he leave me alone? Surely.
"You –" started Grigor, low and deadly as he shifted his weight, as he began to prowl down the hall toward me.
But then the door behind me opened, and Araxis was standing at my side with a tray of food and tea.
He was a picture of ease and confidence, except that I could see the tightening of his fingers on the tray as his shoulder brushed mine.
His black stare was pinned on Grigor, who'd drawn up short.
"He's not joining us, is he, Sashen?" asked Araxis. "I only brought two cups."
"No," I said, painting on a smile. "He was waiting here to see if I was available, but I told him I'm not."
"And is he bothering you?" Araxis shifted forward, positioning his body just barely in front of mine.
"He was," I said, "but he's done now. Unless there was anything else you had to say, Grigor?"
Grigor stared at the two of us, seething but seemingly unable to form words.
Finally, his jaw working like he was chewing a piece of gristle, he said in English, "You keep badmouthing Seraphim, and you see how that works for you, Alikander.
God works in mysterious ways, and if you aren't willing to listen, He will find another route.
You remember this moment. You could have chosen differently.
" And then he turned, shoulders drawn up tight, and he strode down the hall toward the other stairwell.
"Sorry I made you jealous," I called after him, unable to resist – and maybe because there was a part of me that wanted to feel like I was controlling at least part of that conversation.
Like I had the upper hand. As if, by provoking Grigor, I could pretend that my hands hadn't started to shake, just a little.
The moment the other stairwell door banged shut behind Grigor, Araxis fluted out a hard breath, frowning. "I don't care for the way he looks at you," he said, following as I went to my door, and then trailing after me into my apartment. "Or the way he speaks to you."
I shrugged, walking toward the closet door.
"It's fine. But – I don't know. I don't want to talk about him.
I don't want to think about him. I want to watch these videos with you – but I guess I'd better put on some clothes first." When I turned to look at Araxis, he'd set the tray down on the low table by the couch, his black stare lingering on the bare skin of my thighs.
"Hm." He nodded and turned away, ostensibly to go look out a window, even though it was dark out. "Yes. Perhaps."