Chapter 9
nine
EVEREST
The clothes Rathyn got for me are ill-fitting, but at least they cover more than a t-shirt at a sorority wet t-shirt contest. I adjust the pants as we walk and keep trying to right the loose sleeves as they unfold. The collar is also too wide and keeps falling off one shoulder.
The clothes don’t do much to keep me warm, but Rathyn stays close and his body heat is…a lot. Enough that I keep edging closer to his seat for warmth as we head toward City Hall.
It used to be an open building with the DMV and utility offices on the ground floor, but since the portal opened up there and the monster relations offices formed, they put up a big wrought-iron gate and have guards standing outside twenty-four seven.
There has been more than one group of humans—some angry, though most of them just curious—that has tried to sneak past the guards and go into the monsters’ world.
It never ends well for them.
Rumor has it they’re never seen again, but I don’t know if that’s just anti-monster propaganda or not.
Whatever the case, it’s a small production to get in this time. The guard scans the driver’s ID badge, then the monster’s, then he takes my name, social, address, and birthdate.
“Does he want my blood type with all that shit?” I mutter as he finally waves us past.
Rathyn makes a curious hum in the back of his throat. “What is a blood type?”
“It’s uh…” I don’t actually know the science behind it. I spent most of biology getting stoned in the supply closet and paying off a couple of nerdy guys in class to do my homework for me so I could pass. “It’s a human thing. It’s not important.”
He hums again, frowning, but says nothing else as the driver takes us to the front of the building. He opens the door, and Rathyn all but shoves me out onto the pavement, then hauls me upright before taking my hand in a steely grip.
“I know how to walk,” I remind him as I stumble up the stairs on his heels. “I learned when I was ten months old.”
He looks over his shoulder, eyes wide. “It took you ten months to walk?”
“Fuck you, asshole. That’s early.”
He blinks.
“I’m being serious.”
Shaking his head, he turns his gaze back to the doors and grips the heavy iron handle, wrenching it open. “It is a wonder humans survived, but it is no wonder at all that you die before you turn one hundred.”
“Really?” I snark as we head to security. He’s not wearing anything but his sheer pants, and he carries nothing on him, so he breezes past the metal detector while I shove my phone and earbuds into the little scanning tray and step through. “How long do Vyastil live?”
He shrugs as I collect my things. “In your measurement of time,” his gaze turns up to the cavernous ceiling as he thinks, “five hundred years for breeding females. Slightly less for those who do not breed. Males live about one hundred years less than that.”
I come to a skidding halt. “You have females?”
He cocks his head slightly and shrugs. “Of course we do.”
He says it like this is just common knowledge, but it most certainly fucking isn’t. They have females. Breeding females. Which means they breed. Which means they do have some kind of sex act. I mean, they have to, right?
And holy fuck, what do the females even look like? Is there a difference between the genders? Will I ever meet one? Do they come to the clinic, too?
“They are similar to us,” he says, clearly reading my thoughts, which is really fucking invasive. “There are differences between us, but they’re unnecessary to explain to you now. You will likely never meet one. They are rare.”
His tone tells me I should probably shut up. Like maybe this is taboo.
“Taboo,” he repeats like he’s testing the word on his tongue.
“Something you’re not supposed to talk about,” I explain as he leads me to the elevators. He hits the button, and it immediately dings, the doors sliding open. “It’s not exactly illegal, but it’s, you know, like against the rules of polite society or whatever.”
He nods. “This is a good word. The Vyastil have many…taboo.”
I don’t really have time to think about that because the doors open and he walks faster. I have to almost run to keep up with him, and I wonder if I made us late by demanding to be fed in the bath.
When we turn a corner, the hallway opens up to a waiting room, and it’s definitely not empty. There are a couple Vyastil looking uncomfortable and uncertain, but most of the chairs are filled by humans who keep stealing glances at them.
I don’t think most of them are here for dick-sucking contracts, though I could be wrong.
“Damn, this place is busy,” I murmur where only Rathyn can hear. “What are they here for?”
“Many reasons.” He doesn’t elaborate, and his tone tells me not to ask.
He moves to the front of the line with a confidence I don’t possess, and he doesn’t stop when I try to pull him back because there are at least seven people who have looks on their faces like they’ve been waiting for quite a while.
“Oh my god. You’re cutting in line,” I hiss.
“Lines are for humans. Vyastil do not wait.”
God, he’s such an arrogant ass.
I murmur an apology to all the disgruntled people who are watching Rathyn take their turn, my cheeks flaming hot as he drags me past them. No one is brave enough to say a word, of course, but I can feel the tension in the room increase.
When he makes it to the partition, he leans down and speaks to the woman, who looks like she lost her soul ages ago. Her hair is frayed at the ends, wild from neglect, and her glasses are missing their top half like they’ve given up, too.
I feel that. The hot dog stand was slowly killing me. Now I have this new gig, and god only knows how worn out I’m going to be after daily blow jobs. One man’s dream is definitely another man’s nightmare.
“We have an appointment,” Rathyn says once he has the attention of the woman behind the desk.
“Name?”
“Rathyn.”
She clacks on her computer for a moment, then sighs. “Wait here. Someone will be out shortly.”
Rathyn nods, and his hand moves to my lower back, which is an odd comfort in this sea of people who seem weirdly unhappy.
We take a seat in the uncomfortable metal chairs, and Rathyn’s tail curls around my calf. I bite back a smile at the way it tightens around me.
“Is this you holding my hand?” I can’t help but ask.
His gaze meets mine. “What is holding hands?”
I sigh and then reach over to take his large palm in mine. My fingers curl around his, and I realize in this moment how much bigger he is. His fingertips nearly brush my wrist.
“This is holding hands.”
He stares down at our joined bodies and then his ears flutter slightly, his skin rippling. “It seems…similar.”
I squeeze him gently and attempt to let go, but he doesn’t allow it.
He holds on to me tighter, the warmth of his skin soothing as we wait.
I wonder for a moment if I should make some kind of small talk, but I’m not sure I want any of these people overhearing our business.
And frankly, I’m not sure Rathyn gives a shit about what’s on my mind.
“If it’s interesting, I will care,” he says, but it’s not aloud.
I twitch, a momentary headache before it eases, and I feel the weight of him on the inside of my temples. “You have to stop fucking around in my head.”
His tail squeezes around my leg again. “No.”
“You’re so annoying. I have nothing interesting to say. Go away.”
After a beat, he does, and not a few minutes later, a man appears, glasses perched on the end of his nose, his hair receding slightly.
He makes eye contact with Rathyn and then looks down at his paper.
“You’re here for the companion contract?”
Rathyn nods, his tail moving from me, but his hand still sits in mine.
Once again, I don’t pull away, and that seems to make him very happy. I can almost feel it radiating off of him, which is…well, that’s not something I want to think about right now.
We’re guided into a small room with flickering fluorescent lights and beige walls. The carpet is thin and gray, which kind of reminds me of my aunt and uncle’s place. It’s old and dated, almost like it wants to be forgotten.
A shiver moves through me, and I suddenly feel cold.
I don’t like thinking about them. For a moment, I wonder why they haven’t tried harder to contact me, but then again, they have no reason to.
It’s not like they’ll know what I’ve been up to.
Unless Zane sells me out, which I know he won’t.
He’s the only one who understands what I went through, living with them.
But I shove the thoughts of them out of my head. I’m nervous enough about this whole contract thing. I don’t need old, painful memories adding to my anxiety.
The worn swivel chairs creak in protest as I sit, sinking much lower than I expected to. I try to right the damn thing, but it continues to sink until my upper chest is level with the table. I glance at Rathyn, wondering how the thing won’t collapse under him, but of course, for him, it holds.
He glances at me but says nothing as the man with the balding head takes a seat across from us.
“I see you’re here to review and sign a…” He trails off as his eyes move across the iPad screen. After what feels like forever, he clears his throat and shifts uncomfortably in his chair. “A companion contract.”
Rathyn nods as my cheeks flame. That sounds…intimate. More intimate than being a cum bank.
“That is correct,” Rathyn says, unfazed.
The man clears his throat again, like it’s a nervous tic. “I see. And you are requesting this be a paid position?” The tone in his voice says that’s not entirely normal, and I wish the chair would sink a little lower so I could disappear underneath the table entirely.
Rathyn is, once again, unfazed, and he nods. “He needs it. The meat factory doesn’t pay well.”
“It’s a fucking hot dog stand,” I murmur, but of course, no one is listening to me.