10. Poppy
POPPY
Guilt? I hardly knew ye.
Whatever it is I feel now is much, much worse.
It’s not a mild case of post-tequila regret.
Nope.
This is, without a doubt, the biggest mistake of my life, and I’ve ruined my best friend’s lives, too.
“The one who tricked all of her friends into this. I’m rooting for her to find love. A real underdog.”
Ellison, Lily, and Lucy heard it.
They know. Any lingering doubt they had about how we ended up on this floating death trap is officially gone.
They know I am the one who came up with this plan and typed their names under those electronic signature lines while we were deep in pitcher number six.
I dragged my best friends away from their lives and threw them into a complete fucking mess.
Sure, I spent the morning debating contract law with an artificial intelligence via hologram, and got him to back the fuck off, but how do I know he’s going to abide by it?
I don’t.
This is uncharted territory.
Tears prickle the backs of my eyes, but I blink them back as best I can.
I’m not sure where the next place I’ll get water is, and I certainly can’t waste hydration at this point.
Besides, I have only myself to blame.
Fuck being a cute reality TV star. Tossing my marabou heels aside, I put on the tech suit we found in the closet and some boots, and I’m no longer in diva down mode.
No, fuck this shit. I’m not going to stand for this.
“I signed a contract,” I hiss through my teeth, angrier than a wet cat. “The contract said nothing about any of this.”
I am going to get all four of my girls—and their giant alien mates—out of this hellhole alive, or I am going to die trying.
At least I’m not in heat.
I glance towards where Vael is helping cut through the brush with one of the huge kitchen knives we liberated from the little dome. We looked for Pol and Selene, but they were nowhere to be found.
I swallow hard, but it does nothing to assuage the guilt.
Now that Vael-Torin has fully mated me my brain is back online, running at a solid percent. Probably not a full one hundred, but not nearly as bad as I was the first night, when everything I did and wanted was colored by lust.
Unfortunately, the silent red dragon walking beside me doesn’t seem thrilled with me. Or the fact that my heat is gone.
Vael-Torin moves like he’s been hunted before.
His ruby-red wings are tucked tight against his spine, his jaw set so hard the scales along his neck are locked rigid.
He hasn't touched me since the automated dome disintegrated behind us.
The easy warmth in his eyes from last night has vanished, replaced by a cold focus.
"Vael," I say as quietly as I can. My voice still cuts through the eerie silence of the jungle, too loud. "You're freaking me out. You still haven’t said what you thought was going on. What happened. That thing… said it woke up? I know you don’t know me very well, besides, well—” I clear my throat, blushing furiously. “Besides my body, but I need answers. I need a plan. I’d like to… make the plan with you.”
He doesn't stop walking, his feet crushing a fern. "I am considering the words of that voice," he rumbles. "It spoke of a deception. It spoke of you dragging your friends into this arena? Tricking them?"
A painful lump forms in my throat. I hate myself.
But I don’t give up, and I’m not going to lie now. My friends need me. Something small and bright yellow darts around a tree, and I flinch at the movement.
"I did," I tell him, keeping my voice steady.
"They didn't know. I filled out the applications using their data, and then we were drinking and I passed my phone around and talked them into signing the digital waivers. They signed them, and I told them it was a reality show…" It’s not a good defense, and I know it would not hold up in a court of law or the court of public opinion. “But they were drunk. And they didn’t know it was with aliens. Or that we’d be taken that same night.” I want to cry.
I really, really want to cry.
I don’t.
Vael abruptly stops.
He whirls around, his frame completely blocking out the faint morning light. His golden pupils narrow into slits.
Nausea roils my stomach, because he’s not looking at me like he wants to eat me up.
He looks… disgusted.
"They did not know?" he repeats. "You deceived your own people? Your friends?"
I don't offer him a defense.
I don't tell him how miserable they were, or how badly I wanted to save them from their dead-end jobs, or how much I am currently bleeding inside from the guilt.
The why doesn’t matter, not anymore. I’m not sure my reasons were good enough, even if this hadn’t turned into a shit show.
"Yes," I say simply. "I did."
Vael-Torin’s tail lashes violently behind him, a sharp thwack echoing against a nearby tree trunk. He shakes his head, disapproval tightening his handsome features.
"I do not like that," he says slowly. "That is dishonorable. Loyalty is the only armor that never breaks. This is not good, Poppy." His gaze trails over me, but there’s no desire in it.
There’s nothing in it at all.
“I do not know if I can trust you.”
The rejection stings, but I refuse to let him see me flinch.
Court room training was good for one thing, at least.
I need him to see me as a partner, not a traitor. I step right into his personal space and lift my chin.
"Then it's a good thing we're not in an army, Vael-Torin," I tell him, my voice sharp. "I made a choice, and I am going to handle the fallout with my friends. But right now, we have to be a team. I am smart, I am capable, and you are stuck with me. I don’t know about you, but I want to survive, I want to get out of here, and I want to make sure my friends do too." I jab a finger at his chest. “I can be your partner…” I search for a word that might make more sense. “A co-captain, or whatever, but you don’t have to trust me to work with me. But trust this, when I set my mind to something, I do it. I get shit done. So let’s get shit done as a team and save the fuck out of everyone.” I stop talking before a sob wracks me, and I swallow it down, refusing to cry.
Now is not the time.
Vael-Torin blinks, his red eyebrows knitting together in surprise at the aggressive shift in my attitude.
"The voice said there are supplies and weapons deposited near our sleeping site," I continue, turning on my heel and marching right past him down the path, my new boots hitting the dirt hard.
Stomping, some might say. "If we want to survive whatever the fuck it woke up, we need to locate that shit immediately. Help me look."
I hear the heavy thud of his boots picking up his pace, and I allow myself a tiny smile.
So there.
For the next hour, we trek through the increasingly hostile wilderness.
I keep my mouth shut and my eyes locked on the surroundings, scanning the terrain like I’ve done this before.
Yeah. I’ve never been the outdoorsy type, and a little pang of sorrow goes through me, because goddamnit, neither are my friends, and it’s my fucking fault were in this fucking mess.
Fuck.
I can adapt. I am adapting.
I use the pointy end of broken branch to stab at a cluster of vines that look like they might be twitching toward my ankles.
The only survival shit I’ve done is braving a sample sale in NYC, but if I can survive that, I can survive anything.
When I take my first breather, leaning up against a tree and sipping from the water from the dome Vael’s carrying for us, there’s a reluctant respect on his face.
I start up again, because waiting around never solved anything. Certainly didn’t get me the last pair of Louboutin’s in my size. I sigh. RIP red bottoms, I wore ye well.
"You must keep your energy up," he observes quietly, his wing brushing against my shoulder as the path between trees narrows. "If you must rest, we will rest."
"I would run a marathon right now if it meant getting me and my friends safe."
"A marathon?" he asks, furrowing his brow.
"Don't worry about it. Let’s just keep looking for—"
The words die in my throat.
The air pressure drops, my ears popping.
A stench blasts through the trees, a rancid smell of decay. The intermittent bird calls cease, replaced by a dead quiet that sends the hair on the back of my neck up.
“This isn’t good,” I murmur.
“Stay behind me,” Vael rumbles.
For once, I’m happy to do as he says, because if this is the native whatever-the-fuck the voice warned us about, I can’t do shit. I grip the pokey branch in my hands tighter, because I might not be able to take on an alien moose, but I sure as shit can go down fighting.
In front of us, the brush begins to churn.
A wet clicking sound starts, the sick scent of rot growing stronger. I gulp.
The bushes explode outward.
A creature slithers into the center of our path, and it’s a fucking nightmare come to life.
A segmented torso covered in black insect-like plating, easily the size of a city bus, stands before us, and instead of legs, it has tentacles.
“Oh, fuck that,” I breathe.
“I will not,” Vael tells me. “Why would you say such a thing?”
I roll my eyes. We’re gonna have to work on human slang, I fear.
Translucent tentacles writhe under its body, tearing up the ground as it drags its weight forward.
It turns its head towards us.
“Ew,” I whisper, clutching my stick.
It doesn't have eyes. It has a singular vertical slit that pulses with a sickly green light, resting right above what must be its mouth.
Lined with twenty rows of spinning needle-sharp silver teeth.
Definitely not my idea of a good time. The green light flares, illuminating a blood-splattered remnant of a Roth supply crate dangling from one of its tentacles.
Fuck.
Anger sears through me, because we needed that goddamned crate, and mister non-human centipede had to come crawling along and fuck my shit up.
The mouth opens, letting out a deafening screech that hurts my ears.
I flinch, trying to figure out what the fuck I’m going to do against this alien freak of nature.
Vael doesn't hesitate.
Springing to action, he drops his supply pack, his gorgeous ruby-red wings snapping out to their fullest. He steps directly in front of me, his fangs fully bared.
If there weren’t a nasty bug thing in front of us, it would be kind of hot.
Maybe this is the disassociation people keep talking about.
"Poppy," he roars over the creature's screech. "Get behind the tree line. Now."