Chapter 18 Callie
eighteen
Callie
The twins had taken me out to celebrate until the warning alarm for the impending Light had sounded.
I was exhausted, hungry, and my body felt like someone had thrown me into a dryer and pressed spin, but holy shit did I feel good.
I waved a goodbye to the giggling foursome as they stumbled their way back down the hall to their own homes and blew out a breath in the safety of my room
My dinner was waiting for me in my room on covered trays on a little round table someone had placed in the corner.
It matched the overly pink feminine theme of the room, with a frilly powder pink table cloth and a plushly cushioned pink chair pulled out invitingly as if to tempt me to sit and relax.
Uh oh.
In the center of the table, placed in an impossible to miss garish ice bucket like some kind of neon sign mocking me, was the bottle of wine used to drug Rathal.
I winced, sighing to myself and took a seat.
I was hungry, but my stomach churned from the emotional acrobats of the day… er night. Darking. Whatever.
I pushed the wine out of the way with a glare and drew the covered tray to me, lifting the lid and eyeballing the food like it might come alive and bite me.
There were thinly sliced sheets of colorful meats arranged to look like flowers on the plate, with an accompaniment of vegetables steamed and cut to be the stalks and leaves of the food bouquet.
Little fried desserts were displayed prettily on a side plate and a silver teapot and cup were steaming next to the dessert plate.
I picked up the delicate fork and dug in, closing my eyes at the vibrant flavors of each bite, and stewed.
Just what the hell was I even doing? Was I being ridiculous?
Or was this gaslighting at its finest because I kinda felt like everyone thought I was crazy for resisting Rathal and he was being the most patient, kind suitor in the universe.
I mean, I could say the twins were biased because they worked for Rathal.
Why the hell would I listen to a word they said? But on the other hand… god, I was nuts.
The good vibes from the fight evaporated.
I tossed the fork down and buried my face in my hands and groaned.
Just… crazy right? This wasn’t normal. I wasn’t having a normal reaction to this whole situation at all.
He wasn’t that hot, alright. He was a goddamned jackal headed alien!
He did not have enough aura to have me all fucked up like this.
Did he? Was this amount of clashing emotions really the result of that arrogant prick’s sexual magnetism or was I just weak?
The words he used to taunt me floated through my mind like a bad haunting.
I hadn’t hesitated, dammit. I’d been covering my tracks. Covering all my bases. My thought process was that if he was fucking dead he couldn’t follow me. I feel like that wasn’t the actions of a woman who was just playing a game of come and get me.
Right?
I jerked to my feet and stomped to the bathroom. A long hot shower to wash away the blood and sweat from the Pit was just what I needed. Plus, deep thoughts came to me in the shower. I’d figure it out in there, probably.
I didn’t.
By the time I’d completed my entire routine I was no closer to understanding myself and this whole situation then I’d been when I’d entered. I had just finished tugging on another pair of soft, flowing pants when someone knocked sharply at my door.
I sighed, toed on my slippers and opened the door to find Rathal waiting for me on the other side. My heartbeat picked up at the sight of him.
And then my stomach dropped as I realized I wasn’t going to be getting any sleep. Crap. The Assembly. I’d totally forgotten. Damnit. I cast a mournful look over my shoulder at my bed all cozy looking and inviting before returning my gaze to Rathal.
He was dressed in a regal ensemble, something I would expect to see in a fantasy movie or play.
A long, richly gold tunic coat that was heavily embroidered and textured with black overlaying floral patterns shimmered under the warm lighting in the hallway.
It made him seem to glow with an inner light.
His pants were an expensive black fabric that showcased his muscled thighs.
His knee high boots were made of some type of black leather.
The heel and toes of his boots were outlined in a gold metal that looked to double as decoration and weapon, each pointed toe glinted with a razor sharp edge.
He’d doubled up on jewelry as well. Both ears had eight hoops in the outer curves, with red jeweled studs on the inside.
Gold eyeliner under his dark eyes gave him a dramatic look and matched the gold choker around his thick neck.
He looked like an Egyptian pharaoh… or a God.
An intricate gold brooch just under his left shoulder held a heavy black cape in place that spilled over his back to pool on the floor behind him.
Oh the drama.
Each one of his long, elegant fingers were adorned with gold rings, jeweled and shiny. They shone when he raised his hand and pointed a gold painted claw at me.
“Red is a lovely color on you. Though I think I prefer gold.” He gave no hint of any lingering anger or otherwise with his tone or his look.
It was like nothing had ever happened and made me nervous.
He’d seemed pretty pissed just a few hours ago.
His fancy dress was such a departure from his usual slutty extravagance that it compounded on my nervousness until I was pulling at my own shirt hem.
I don’t think I’ve ever had so much nauseous stomach flipping before, not even when I was waiting to see if I got a pilot slot or even while going through pilot training.
I looked down at my simple tunic and pants and then back at his royal splendor. “Uh, am I underdressed?” My stomach churned both with nerves at seeing him after our little spat earlier and at the thought I’d stick out like a sore thumb in plain clothes if everyone else was dressing to the nines.
But Rathal only snorted and waved his hand dismissively. “Oh no, you are perfectly fine. I am merely making a statement. These assemblies tend to get out of hand and I’ve found that if I dress the part of king it keeps the rabble more manageable.”
He was so full of shit. Rathal was entirely too arrogant to ‘dress as king’ just to keep the illusion of power. He didn’t need the illusion. He was the king. I suspected he was just flapping his lips to keep me from feeling bad about not wearing a dress.
“Shall we?” he asked, sweeping his arm out.
I moved down the hall in the direction he’d indicated and he fell in step with me, a roasted vanilla smell rising from him and I suspected the fool was wearing cologne.
No other alien I’d met so far wore scents.
Probably because most of them had such sensitive noses and I imagine perfumes and strong smells were rude, like they could be in Japan.
I opened my mouth to comment on it, because I liked it, and then shut my mouth before I could voice the compliment.
One, I’d never complimented him before, you know, because of the whole he was my captor thing, and two, I shouldn’t be freaking complimenting him.
It would probably swell his head up and then he’d need a hover cart to get around.
Part of my nerves was waiting for the shoe to drop and for him to bring up the Pit fight. I just freaking knew I was going to get shit about it. I was bruised and there was a pretty good cut on my lip. I knew he knew.
I looked up at Rathal, but he was staring ahead, his face set in neutral lines. He wasn’t jibber jabbering like usual, and it made the air weird between us.
Just say something already, damnit.
This was awkward. I hated awkward. It made me want to fill the silence with inane chatter and I didn’t do inane chatter. I was the stoic one. Rathal had me all fucked up.
“Soooo… Why exactly did you want me to come to this assembly?”
Godddamnit, Callie. Shut up.
Rathal didn’t look at me when he answered.
“I figured it would help you see that I’m not a ruthless dictator.
We vote here on Erral.” He pushed open a swinging door into a descending staircase.
“Though the screaming and fist fights usually come first. But then you would know all about that, wouldn’t you?
” he muttered as we approached a large set of ornate double doors.
There was the low roar of too many voices speaking over each other and then someone screeched like a wounded bird of prey and I turned to Rathal with wide eyes. “Uh, what?”
His head dropped and he took a deep fortifying breath. “Welcome to the Erral Assembly where everyone has a voice… and they use it. Loudly.”
The doors opened inwardly into pure chaos.
The room was situated like a WWE arena, with ascending tiered benches at least a hundred deep and the ‘ring’ at the center where a large raised speaking podium was situated with a wide spotlight shining down on the speaker.
It was like I’d stepped through into Madison Square Garden during the match of the century, with all the noise and movement to match.
There had to be tens of thousands of aliens packed in here.
The poor octopus-like male who had taken the podium was trying to shout over the reverberating cacophony and losing the battle badly.
The aliens in the stands were screaming and jumping, shaking their fists, their faces twisted into masks of outrage and hatred.
“What the hell did he say to get them this worked up?” I shouted, leaning towards Rathal to try and get myself heard over the roar of voices.
His ear flicked at me and he leaned down to press his muzzle close to my ear. “I believe this is the opening argument for trash collection.”
Trash collection was getting them mad? Jesus.