13. Seth
thirteen
Seth
W hen the fog of Essa's venom fades, I'm covered in dark swirling paint over my limbs, chest, and abdomen. My eyes snap to focus as Essa leans in close to my face, the paintbrush in her hand drawing a single vertical line down the center of my lips.
"Welcome back," she murmurs, twisting her hand so she can run her knuckles down my cheek. I lean into the touch, not because of her venom but because Essa is safe.
I didn't respond the same way Adam did to her venom, and I know it's irritating him that I didn't. Maybe he was hoping that the needs he shows when he's that vulnerable were part of her venom and not his own desires coming out when his guard was down. Even now, he's assessing me with narrowed eyes and a hard press of his lips.
"The paint looks nice," I say, keeping my eyes on Adam to make sure he's not about to get all jealous since Essa's had her hands on me for the last hour or so while she was painting me.
She worked on Adam for just as long, but I didn't mind watching that. He didn't either. No, his emotions were screaming with how pleased he was. Not that he gave any indication to Essa that he was.
"It's so I know if anyone touches you," Essa says, dipping her head slightly like she's embarrassed.
I want to ask her about it, whether she's embarrassed because she thinks we'll let others touch us or because of her own possessiveness. Either one shouldn't be a concern. Adam won't let anyone besides her touch us, and we both like that she wants to own us, just like Adam wants to own me and her. I don't ask about it because Adam lied to her earlier, and she still needs help.
"Adam can braid your hair," I tell her, testing my motor functions by raising my hands to her silky black strands and running my fingers through them.
"Seth." Adam's voice is a warning growl.
He won't be happy with this, but if we're as into this as I want us to be, he needs to be honest, and Essa deserves to know everything.
"She needs help with her hair." I ignore the confused look Essa shoots us to turn a stern gaze on Adam.
I won't back down from this. Not when appearances seem so important in Haventh culture. Essa needs to look every part the regal goddess she is, and Adam can help with that.
"Don't do this," Adam says through clenched teeth, his eyes burning with an angry fury that I know means he wants me on my knees, but he won't spoil all of Essa's hard work. Not yet, at least.
I turn my attention to Essa, knowing what I'm about to say might change her view of both of us. But mostly because I need to make sure she's going to protect me if Adam decides to murder me before we even make it to Haven III.
"He used to braid his daughters' hair," I say before losing my nerve. Adam's emotions jump from grief to sadness to boiling rage before Essa's face has time to choose an expression.
"His daughters," Adam snarls as he pushes past Essa to get up in my face.
He raises his hand to grab my shoulder but stops himself when he sees the intricate patterns painted onto my skin. He scowls at me harder before balling his fists and letting them fall to his side.
Looks are important to her kind. She needs to look the part. I project my voice into Adam's mind, and he bares his teeth at me.
He's more than angry. I don't blame him either. He doesn't like when Original Adam's daughters get brought up. There are a lot of bad memories there, but that doesn't mean he can't help the female we've promised to help.
Adam doesn't respond to me, but I track his emotions. The rage is all-consuming, but underneath it, there's a flicker of understanding and, finally, a resignation. The secret's out now. There's no point in pretending Essa doesn't know now. When he turns to face her, I do the same.
Essa moved to sit on the bed beside me when Adam pushed between her and me, but she kept her tail locked firmly on my ankle, reassuring me that if Adam got physical, she'd intervene. When we look at her, it's clear she's unsure how to handle the new information.
Adam sighs long and hard before motioning for her to stand up. She does so without question, and Adam takes a seat on the mattress, spreading his legs and pointing to the ground between them. He doesn't need to speak for Essa to understand what he wants, and she falls to the floor gracefully, the chains and jewels decorating her horns clink softly as they jostle.
"Get me her brush and some water," Adam commands.
He doesn't look at me, but I know it's orders for me to follow. I dig through Essa's pack to find what he could need and pull out a soft black fabric bag that jingles when I hold it up. I give Essa a questioning glance, and she nods, telling me they'll need it as well.
The room is awkward and quiet for long minutes as Adam brushes through Essa's hair. He's pissed off and ready to make me pay for bringing all of this up, but he's not taking it out on Essa. No, from the gentle way he's treating her and her hair, I'd think he was happy to be back doing something that reminds him of his past or the past he remembers from the man he was cloned from.
"The original Adam had three daughters," Adam says, clearing his throat.
He sections off a piece of Essa's hair and asks her to hold it while he digs through the bag of charms and gemstones. He pulls out a thinly chained series of white glittering stones. He holds it in front of Essa's face and waits for her to give a single nod before he takes her hair from her and starts to braid it, along with the chain of gemstones.
"Would you like to tell me about them?" Essa asks, her fingers fiddling in her lap as she tries to stay still for his work.
Adam's jaw clenches tight as he debates his answer. I only know about them from when our originals were kept in the same cells. Original Adam talked a lot more than my Adam, but then again, our originals were allowed to leave when the experiments concluded.
We were the ones manufactured long after the originals passed away, their memories uploaded into our brains in our first moments of life. Memories that weren't ours but kept us in line all the same.
"His wife was a school teacher, he was in the military, and they had three daughters who all were into dance and cheer. He loved them more than anything." Adam swallows thick, sorrow seeping into his emotions as he continues to work Essa's hair. "When the invasion happened, he fought hard and survived. So did his family. After that, he was done with the military, wanted to spend the rest of his life with his daughters and his wife and not deal with any more bloodshed."
Adam twines a small elastic around the end of Essa's braid before sectioning off a new one and braiding it without adding a chain of jewels. Essa's hands move at some point while he's talking to wrap around his ankles, offering him the only touch she can from where she's sitting. I'd offer to sit next to him and hold him as well, but there's a good chance we'd ruin our paint if I did.
"Different government agencies all got together before Earth signed any contracts with the Intergalactic Alliance. They wanted to create super soldiers to help fight against another species if we were invaded again. They requested volunteers, but when they really wanted someone to join, they didn't take no for an answer. Adam told them he wasn't interested, that he only wanted to be with his family. So, they took his oldest daughter, Hannah, and told him they'd take more until he agreed to go with them."
Adam ties off the second braid. He grabs a handful of white stones and works on a third braid. He's careful with the singular stones, weaving them through Essa's strands so they stay in place like little charms. He doesn't speak again as he finishes the third and starts working on a fourth.
"Did Hannah return home?" Essa asks, her eyes lined with glittering wetness of tears she isn't letting fall. I move this time, but instead of comforting Adam because he'll reject my offer, I kneel beside Essa and run soothing touches up and down her arms.
"I don't know," Adam murmurs, his voice catching on the words.
It's another cruelty added on top of everything else the scientists did to us. To the original Adam and Seth and the ones they gave life to five years ago. We have all of the memories up until the point of the upload, including the day our originals were told they would be freed the next day.
"Is my daughter safe?" The words play through my mind like it happened just yesterday. Original Adam kept his thoughts open to Seth when they were separated. It was for moral support and to ensure they both had as much information about their predicament as possible.
"We're not at liberty to discuss your family."
"Is my daughter safe? You told me she would be fine if I did what you said." The sound of a metal chair sliding against the stone floor as the interrogator leaves the room. The door opening. Adam thrashing in his seat, in the binds that keep him secured. "You told me she would be safe! I did what you wanted!"
"Stop that," Adam snaps at me, pulling me out of the memories from our past selves.
My cheeks feel hot at being called out, but Adam's mood no longer spikes. If anything, he seems almost relieved to have spoken about his past with someone other than me. His brows quirk and his lips twist into a smile that doesn't feel happy in the slightest.
"Your turn. If I have to tell my story, you better tell yours."
Essa gives me an expectant look, but I can tell she's trying her hardest not to seem overeager. I'd be eager to hear about her story, where she came from, and why she left, but our pasts are difficult sometimes. I have no doubt hers was hard too. Maybe not the same as Adam and mine, but hard nonetheless.
"Red-headed orphan with a penchant for reading people," I say with a shrug. "When I was nineteen, I was arrested for fraud, even though it was never proven, and I never made it to trial. Instead, I was shipped off to some research facility with the promise of a clean slate and enough money to make me happy when I left."
Adam scoffs and rolls his eyes because, of course, he does. He doesn't like that I say 'I' when talking about Original Seth's life. I don't like that he doesn't accept his memories as his own.
"I was naive and easily swayed by money. When the invasion happened, I was twenty-four, still stuck in their research facility as they tried to do some weird magical woo-woo to me like it was actual science. Then, shortly after the invasion ended, they told me I was to be a companion for a different experiment they were doing. I don't know how it all worked. I only know that months after learning about Adam and how they were torturing him, the weird woo-woo they were doing to my mind finally worked. I felt his pain and heard his thoughts. We've been linked since then."
"Wait." Essa's brows rise so high on her head as she jerks in Adam's hold. Not that he seems to care because he just tugs on her hair to pull her back into place, her pupils constricting at the tug and her fangs starting to elongate.
Adam's expression warms at her reaction, which makes me shake my head. Their relationship with one another is messy. I don't even want to pretend like I understand it.
Essa calms herself down enough that she's not about to spin around and prove to Adam how much stronger she is than him and continues with her question. "What do you mean you're linked?"
My eyes go wide, and my lips part. Oh shit. I didn't mean for all that to come out, and now there's no taking it back. Adam, who I think would be the one stressing about it the most, focuses solely on the newest braid he's working on. I start to speak, my words catching on themselves, when Adam finally deems it appropriate to save me.
"He's telepathic, but only with me." Adam shoots me a look, which means he wants me to check out his thoughts right now. I won't be doing that because I know he's got me on my hands and knees in his head right now. "He can read emotions pretty easily, though, and his senses are stronger than yours, mostly hearing, but smell and touch are more sensitive, too."
"And you?" Essa asks, this time grabbing Adam's hand to keep him from pulling her hair as she turns to face him. "What did they do to you?"
"They made me reckless and fearless and easy to anger," Adam says as he grabs one of her horns and uses it to twist her head around so she's facing forward. "Now, be still so I can finish your hair. I think two more braids, and you'll look like the Haventh female on the information page Seth and I looked over."
I snort, just now realizing that he's doing Essa's hair almost exactly like the image of the female headshot we saw at the end of the article we read about Haventh concubine ceremonies. He was doing a good job, so I thought he had some idea of what he was doing, but now that he's mentioned it, I can't help but laugh at the uncanny similarity.
A knock on the door has us all tensing, but when it slides open to reveal our two guards both looking timid, we relax. Well, Essa and I do. Adam does the opposite.
"What?" he snaps, trying and failing to look anything but doting as he braids Essa's hair, even though he wants to be intimidating.
"We're about to enter Haven III's space," one of the men says as he rubs the back of his neck. "Time to get you all to the airlock for docking."
Adam's scowl deepens as his fingers move faster. "Give us five minutes."
"We—" The first man starts to speak, but Adam throws a death glare at him, and a soft slap to his chest from his brother shuts him up and nods. "Five minutes, then we're docking on Haven III."