Chapter 2 #2
“No, it did not list a requirement.” He banked the shuttle, turning north toward the red cliffs that rose like jagged teeth from the landscape. “And your references seemed adequate. Five years of experience, you said?”
“Yes.” The lie sat heavy on my tongue.
“With infants specifically?”
“Yes.”
“Good.” Did I hear doubt in his voice? “Pip is challenging. Not all nannies have been able to handle her needs.”
Her. The baby was female. “How old is she?”
“Approximately eight months, by human developmental standards. Though Yxian aging does not correspond directly to human years.”
Yxian. Great. Another species I’d never heard of. I wanted to ask more, but Andrek’s attention fixed on the viewport as we approached the cliffs. Even more massive up close, wind and time carved the towering red stone formations into fantastic shapes.
“There,” he said, and I followed his gaze.
The estate seemed to grow from the cliff itself, built into the rock face with natural stone forming half the walls.
It was sprawling but not ostentatious. Organic architecture worked with the landscape instead of dominating it.
Terraced gardens cascaded down the cliff side, green against red.
A landing pad extended from the main structure, its surface gleaming in the golden sunlight.
It was beautiful. Isolated. And very, very far from the main colony. Anyone with any sense of self-preservation would have run. I, however, had no option but to move in with a complete stranger.
Andrek brought the shuttle down without so much as a jostle. The engines cycled down, and he unbuckled his harness before turning to face me. In the confined space, he seemed even larger.
“Before we go inside,” he said, “I should tell you that Pip may react poorly to a new caregiver. She is particular about who she trusts. The last three nannies all left within the first week.”
My stomach clenched. “Why?” Dumb move, Dani.
“Because they could not handle her crying. Or my appearance made them uncomfortable. Or they found the isolation too much.” His tail flicked.
“I do not know which will be true for you. But I am desperate enough that I hired you despite your,” he paused, golden eyes studying my face.
“Despite the significant gaps in your application.”
My blood turned cold. “What gaps?”
“The childcare center you claimed to work for does not exist. I verified this morning. Any references you could have shared would be fabricated. Your educational records show a liberal arts degree, not early childhood development. And your body language when discussing your experience suggests significant discomfort with the subject.”
I couldn’t breathe. He knew. He’d known from the beginning, and he brought me here anyway, to this isolated estate where no one would hear me scream…
“I am not going to hurt you, Danielle Slater.” Andrek’s voice was gentler than I thought it would be. “You are terrified, and I do not blame you. But I need you to listen. Do you know why I hired you despite your obvious lies?”
I shook my head, unable to form words.
“Because you were the only applicant.” He looked away, out the viewport toward his home.
“No one wants to work for a Torzi in an isolated location, caring for an alien child. No one wants to be this far from civilization, this dependent on a single employer who could, as you are clearly imagining, do terrible things without witnesses.”
“Then why did you advertise at all?” I whispered.
“Because I am desperate.” He turned back to me, and for the first time, I saw something other than intimidation in those golden eyes.
I saw exhaustion. “I cannot care for Pip alone. My work requires extended absences, and she cannot be left with just anyone. She needs someone who will stay, who will commit, who will…” He trailed off.
“I thought perhaps someone fleeing their own situation might understand. Might be invested enough in their own freedom to fight for hers as well.”
“What do you mean, her freedom?”
“That is a conversation for later.” He unbuckled my harness, his movements careful and slow so as not to startle me. “I need to ask you something, and I need you to answer with the truth. Can you do that?”
I nodded. “Yes.”
“Why did you apply for this position? What was the real reason?”
The words came out before I could stop them. “Because I needed to be free.”
Andrek’s hands stilled. “That is an answer I can work with.” He stood, his wings brushing the shuttle ceiling. “Come. Let me show you your quarters. If you choose to stay, and only if you choose, you can meet Pip.”
He left the shuttle, and after a moment, I followed, my legs steady despite my reservations about my situation. The air on the landing pad was warm and dry, smelling of stone and floral from the gardens.
Andrek looked back at me, waiting. Despite everything, he remained patient.
“I’m going to be terrible at this,” I said, surprised by my own honesty. “I have no idea how to care for a baby. I’ve never even held one for longer than a few minutes.”
“I figured as much,” Andrek said. “But you came anyway. That suggests either courage or foolishness, and to be frank, I will accept either at this point.” He gestured toward the entrance.
“Your quarters are in the east wing. You have a private bathroom, workspace, and access to the gardens as well as the common areas. I will show you Pip’s routines, feeding schedule, and sleep requirements should you choose to stay. ”
“And if I fail? If I leave like the others?”
He sighed. “Then I will have to try again. And Pip will learn once more that people leave her.”
Somewhere in that beautiful house was a baby who’d been abandoned multiple times over; a baby whose caretaker stood before me at the end of his options, reduced to hiring a liar who could barely take care of herself.
I thought about running. Instead, I picked up my bag from where he’d set it down and walked toward the entrance.
“Show me,” I said, my voice steadier than I felt. “Show me everything I need to know.”
Andrek’s tail swished once, and he inclined his head. “Follow me.”
The doors slid open, revealing cool darkness and the faint sound of something crying in a high-pitched, plaintive, whine.
I stepped inside and let the doors close behind me, sealing myself in with the unknown.
There was no going back now.