15. Can’t Deny It
15
Can’t Deny It
T itan
Blaze is still in a daze when the drone’s female AI voice tells us to follow it to safety.
“Blaze? Blaze! You have to help. I’m going to carry you, but you have to do your part.”
The light is fading fast, but in the dim gray of twilight, I can see her trying to focus on me.
“Blaze?”
“Yes.” She nods, her head bobbling from side to side as much as it’s moving up and down.
“You’re going to get on my back.”
With a lot of help from me, she’s straddling my waist from behind, her arms crooked around my neck.
“Hold the sword in one hand and the bat in the other. Can you do that?”
“Mmm.”
“Say yes,” I urge, trying to bring her brain back online.
“Yes, Titan.”
“That’s my girl. Good.”
I hand the weapons to her. “Whatever you do, don’t cut my head off or you’ll lose your ride.”
“Very funny, asshole.”
“There’s my Blaze,” I say, surprisingly happy to hear her snide comment. It means she’s back among the living.
As I pick my way up the embankment, following the drones, I see Red in the gloam.
“Climb on,” I tell him, resigned.
He pauses a moment, then climbs up my leg and torso. Since I don’t feel his tiny claws digging into my plating, I assume he’s hitched a ride with Blaze. I don’t hear her complaining, though.
“Get a move on,” Jahzara Zedd goads. She’s in her dressing room, putting on her makeup and looking into the mirror to speak to the camera behind her. “We need you cleaned, medically treated, and ready for showtime in ninety minutes. Our drones found a nice cave for you, and we’ve already charged your accounts a tidy sum to clean the disgusting place. Do you know how hard it is to scrape a century’s worth of bat guano off rocky floors?”
She purses her lips to get her lipstick on just right as I struggle to keep pace with the drones.
“Just to remind you, Slayer promised the entire galaxy she would…” she consults her notes, “‘do a striptease and if you want, I’ll ride the big guy tonight. Let me know if you want me shot from the front or the back’.”
The words are completely devoid of feeling and sound ludicrous coming out of Zedd’s mouth.
“And let me remind you of the rest of the deal,” Blaze says with all of her cocky attitude back on board, “When I get ten thousand credits and the laser rifle is in my hand, you’ll get your show.”
“Just to be clear,” Zedd says, all pretense of compassion forgotten, “I bet against you two from the start. When you killed those three Halckons earlier today, I doubled my bet. As soon as I terminate this comm, I’m going to double it again.”
The screen goes black, which doesn’t mean they’re not listening or filming. It just means they want us to let our guards down.
Blaze
The suns have set, but they equipped the drones with lights that illuminate our path. I guess they wouldn’t want any mishaps for us now.
Titan is hustling, trying to keep up with the drones. The ride is bumpy. The weapons, especially the spiky bat, are heavy and I have to pay attention not to hurt Titan with them since they’re close to his thighs and almost slice him with every step.
“You saved my life today,” I murmur into his ear.
“Aye.”
I’ve watched a million hours of TV and movies in my lifetime. Action has always been my favorite. I can’t remember anyone having as bad a day as I’ve had, and that’s saying a lot. No, that’s not true. Aliens . Sigourney Weaver had a couple really bad days. And as awful as the crindles were, the aliens were worse.
I’m a strong woman. You don’t live through twenty foster homes without needing a lifetime of therapy unless you have inner fortitude. And becoming a sniper? That’s not for wimps. The training was grueling and being a 5’2” woman didn’t make it any easier.
But I’m not made of steel. I’m still human, and although I’ve learned how to stuff my emotions deep down inside, I never learned how to eliminate them. Underneath my cocky exterior lies a little girl who still dreams of an easy life.
Well, if not an easy life, at least a life easier than the one I’ve been handed.
And there’s also the little girl who, when she wasn’t watching Aliens and the Terminator , watched all the Disney princesses. Yeah, I want what Uncle Walt promised me. If not a prince, at least someone to love me.
I’d never admit it to anyone. I keep those thoughts hidden deep inside. Even when I admit them to myself, they seem ridiculous. Embarrassing even. A girl like me should know better, right?
Yet those fantasies are there. I don’t touch them often. I never nurture them. But even a hardass like me takes them out and admires them from time to time. I dream of a male looking at me with love in his eyes, someone who would risk his life to save mine.
He hasn’t , that snarky voice inside my head reminds me. Think it through, Blaze. Name one moment where he risked his life to save yours. You’re a means to an end. You killed your share of opponents when you two burst out of the gymnasium. Without you, he might not have gotten ten feet out that door.
Those three Halckons this afternoon? Think he could have fought all three of them without you? You kept that one guy busy, so Titan didn’t get his head severed from his neck.
Without you keeping the crindles off his six, he could have never fought them off.
So, Blaze, don’t get all starry-eyed about the male carrying you to a cave so he can fuck you. You’re convenient. And in the end, it all comes down to one.
My inner realist is right. I’m a means to an end for him. And he’s a means to an end for me. Last night’s sex was great, and I have every reason to expect it to be equally amazing tonight. Then I’ll earn my rifle, and everything will change.
Because it’s dark, I hadn’t noticed the geography has been changing. I think we’ve been jogging through an old riverbed, because rocky walls are rising on two sides of us. With the drones illuminating the way, I see a cave up ahead.
The network must have been busy, because they’ve prepared it for us. The circular area is maybe fifteen feet in diameter. Although Jahzara Zedd freaked me out about bats, she wasn’t lying when she said they’d scrubbed it. The fairly flat rocky surface is clean.
“Look, honey. The network went all out,” I say when I see a blow-up mattress the size of a queen bed at the far end of the area. There’s a bottle of champagne chilling in one of those champagne chilling things just like you see in the movies.
And there’s a spread of food on a little table by the bedside. I’m starving, so the moment Titan eases me to the floor, I descend on the food and start stuffing anything I can get my hands on into my mouth.
There are little sandwiches and fruit and cheese. I don’t worry that the network has poisoned us because making sure we live through tonight’s sex show is the most important thing to them right now. Why kill the golden goose, right?
Titan shoves a sandwich between his lips and then turns the medbot on.
“Come here,” he says around a mouthful of food. The medbot’s movable arm assesses me from head to toe, then preps my cuts. Within fifteen minutes, my two deep gashes have been glued shut and covered with protective plas-film.
The bot shot me full of what I hope are antibiotics, and what is clearly a painkiller because the throbbing is gone. The better to be able to have sex on camera, I guess. The network certainly didn’t do it out of the kindness of their hearts—they don’t have hearts.
All the while the bot was doctoring me, I kept shoving food into my cakehole. I’m assuming this will be my last meal before I die—or win the game if by some fluke that happens.
The drone screens tell us there are 18 contestants left. Titan is still the favorite. I’m still at the bottom of the heap.
Titan’s former owner comes on screen looking as pissed as he did last night.
“I never thought you’d get this far,” he snarls. Not exactly what I would have led with, but I guess he had to start somewhere. “You’re going to perform, female, then you’ll earn your rifle.”
“You got it wrong, asshole,” I say, “the deal was—”
Dear God, this shock is twice as strong as the last one. It immediately brings me to my knees and tears an excruciated scream from my throat.
By the time it’s over, I’m panting, sweat has beaded on every surface of my body, and I’m in the fetal position. When I can move, I look around for Titan, waiting for him to come to my side. He’s not standing, though. The blue Whelpie asshole shocked Titan too.
“As I was saying,” he continues, “you’re going to perform, then you’ll earn your rifle.”
Titan somehow finds the strength to crawl to my side and pull me into his arms.
“You’re…” Titan says to the male on the screen, but I cut him off with a kiss. It will just get us both shocked again, and there’s only so much either of us can take.
“The studio provided you with a basin of water, washcloths, towels, and hairbrushes. You’ve got ten minutes to clean up and get presentable before showtime. I always knew you were good for something, Titan. It used to be fighting. Now it must be fucking.”
The screen goes black, but the red light is still on.
I ease to my knees, then stand and wobble to the basin and towels. It’s near the champagne, so I grab the bottle, wondering what it will do on top of the painkillers the bot just shot me up with.
I’ll never know, because the bottle is empty. It’s just a prop.
I dip a washcloth into the lukewarm water and squeeze it out as I watch by the light of the drones as the droplets fall back into the basin.
“Titan, come here. Let me get your back.”
Even though I just had a long talk with my snarky inner self about the fact this titanic blue male is no Prince Charming, now that we’re safe in this cave, I can’t ignore my attraction.
Before he approaches me, he kicks off his boots and shimmies out of his clothes. He was distracted when he pulled his shirt over his head, but by the time he pulls his pants off, his blue eyes are focused on me. Maybe he felt the heat of my stare beckon from across the room.
There’s the tiniest smile lifting the corners of his lips, which is absurd and unexpected considering the shitshow we’re immersed in.
“Rowdy’s getting a drink,” he says as he points with his rugged chin to the lizard perched on the lip of the steel basin.
“How many times do I have to tell you his name is Red? We’re going for obvious,” I scold since it’s apparent we’re turning the tables on our earlier argument.
“You’re obstinate,” he says as he approaches, then kneels in front of me. Holy shit. I knew I was attracted to him, but there is something about this position, with him kneeling between my feet that makes my pulse pound between my legs.
Despite being in a cave and slated for death, lust slams through me, reminding me I am a woman and he is all male.
His face is at boob height, and my nipples prick into hard points with him so close. He feels it too. His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows while his blue gaze travels from my breasts to my eyes.
I wash him with the cloth. Wash? Is that what I’m doing? I’m adoring him with every motion. Instead of cleaning him, it’s more like a caress.
He’s filthy. We both are. We’ve been bathed in blood and then the river and then marched through dusty trails.
Wetting the cloth, I wring it out over his head. The water sluices down his face in glistening rivulets, then falls on the floor. Wiping him from forehead to chin, I somehow manage not to lose eye contact.
Heat is arcing between us. He’s naked. I’m not. But the electricity we’re feeling has nothing to do with his lack of clothing. It’s deeper than that. Bigger.
I’ve tried to deny it. I’ve fought myself. I’ve blamed forced proximity and endorphins and the very real threats of death. But when you wipe all that away, it’s still Titan I’m attracted to. And by the blazing look of heat in his eyes, the feeling is mutual.