Chapter 6
CHAPTER SIX
Lora is waiting in my living room when I get back from my walk. He’s sitting exactly where he sat last time, and I don’t know if you’ve ever had a being twice your size occupy the space you live in, but I assure you, sitting is the only reasonable way he can comfortably be in my house.
“You’re here.” I should have said hello, but I was startled by the massive alien I wasn’t expecting, so I forgive myself the faux pas.
“I said I would come help you pack,” he confirms, sitting forward to greet me.
He’s on my couch with his legs crisscrossed on the floor, but he spreads them out and holds out his giant clawed hand to me.
I let him engulf mine in his, and he gently guides me between his legs… aaaaaannnd now I’m sitting on his thigh.
“This is weird. I feel weird. Why am I sitting on your lap?” It’s not like I haven’t been on his lap before, but that was a medically necessary lap-sitting. This is… weird.
He pats my back and gives it a little rub.
“I was unsure if your walk was vigorous enough to warrant a rest period before we pack your items for your move to your new housing assignment. As I am taking up the entirety of your loveseat, I thought my lap would be comfortable. You enjoyed it last time.”
I press my lips into a line and give him a good hard stare before explaining, “It wasn’t your lap that made me moan when you were sucking on my neck.
That is an erogenous zone for me, and your fangs stimulated that sensation rather than pain.
” I was still a bloody mess after he was done and the nanites finished healing me.
I caught a glimpse of a victim of mauling in the mirror when I got in the shower to clean up.
Lora’s smile is terrifying, what with the fangs and super sharp teeth and all, but his laugh is weirdly pleasant.
Deep, soft, amused… I could stand to hear that again.
It makes me feel the same way the sounds of rain or the noise of a river makes me feel.
It’s comforting is what I’m saying. “I did not realize the neck was a sensitive area for humans beyond it being a vulnerability. Perhaps you would get used to it over time if you continued to donate, and it would no longer be so sensitive for you.”
Is he trying to get another bite out of me? “I’m pretty sure humans can’t donate a couple pints a week,” I point out, pulling my phone out of my pocket to look it up. “Ok, it says here that red blood cells take four to six weeks to regenerate. So, you can bite me again in a month.”
“I do not need a pint a day. I was injured. I require a mouthful of blood once a week unless I am injured.” His hand is getting dangerously close to my ass, though I can’t tell if he’s doing it on purpose or if he’s absentmindedly rubbing my back.
I should say something if I want him to stop. Right. ScaryDarkAlienVampire…
“Why does your body require blood? And how does alien blood help you? I would think that blood from different planets would be non-nutritive and likely toxic.” I’ve seen War of the Worlds. I agree that bacteria would be the downfall of any alien invasion.
Lora rattles in approval, and his hand slips down to my ass as he explains.
“We drink the blood of the species of the planets to gain their immunity to their world. Anything the native species isn’t immune to our medical system takes care of.
We do have to continually renew the immune cells we receive from the planetary beings, because evolution is lazy.
Since we are capable of continually drinking from our prey, it has not advanced us to a permanent immune solution. ”
My brain latches onto the plural nouns he’s using. “So you guys go around the galaxy drinking people’s blood and building infrastructure a lot then?”
Lora’s laughter vibrates through me, causing the reflexive relaxation of my entire muscular system.
“That is a fair summary of my species’ role in the galactic community.
We are the enforcement branch of the Planetary Systems Preservation Committee.
When the galactic alliance decides a life-bearing planet is in danger of collapse, we are tasked with guardianship over the planet because we are the only species in twelve galaxies capable of immediate immunity to the planet and its atmosphere.
Our home planet is significantly larger than most planets where life has evolved, hence we are able to adapt to most gravitational variance.
We will take custody of your species and your planet until your people can be trusted with your own survival. ”
I take a moment to revel in a sleepy blink and find myself leaning on his chest and snuggling in like I belong here in his lap. I—I think his voice lured me in for a cuddle. “What just happened?” I ask, yawning.
He runs his huge hand up my back and down to my butt where it stays as he pats my cheeks. “It is svinthly. The time for rest. Sleep.”
I need no more encouragement than that as he leans back, cradling me in his arms. My body and brain give in to the sleepiness and I’m out.
***
I generally wake up easily. I usually come to while I’m dreaming and have plenty of time to orient myself.
I’m not typically confused or cold, but I’m both as I wake up.
Alarm shoots through me, and I reach for my phone, smacking flesh instead of the nightstand.
I blink awake, discovering I’m curled up on top of Lora who’s smiling down at me with a soft expression.
“Hello. You slept well,” he says, sideways blinking those deeply disturbing black eyes at me.
Well, I’m getting used to them, so they aren’t as disturbing as they were. “I don’t usually nap in the middle of the day.”
“Once every thirty Earth hours, my people begin our regenerative rest cycle. It starts with the children. Parents naturally secrete a hormone that causes their spawn to sleep. Humans appear to be susceptible to that hormone. I will need to retreat to my… coffin” —he looks confused by the use of this term— “soon. Do your people sleep in the same boxes that you bury your dead in?”
“No, of course not. Only vampires do. You’re a parent?” Embarrassment floods my cheeks as I push off of him to get up. Oh my god. He’s been treating me like a child this whole time. I—was I attracted to him? Holy shit, I was!
“Yes. Every adult ScaryDarkAlienVampire…” he stumbles for a second and distastefully says, “female you will meet has offspring. The binary terms of your language are too limiting. I am most like the male of your species, but I am a breeding male. Some males are not breeding males. We have people who are most like the females of your species, but some are breeding and some are not. Breeders are not allowed to work until we have procreated and raised our offspring to maturity,” he explains, clearly offended by the limitations of human biology.
“I have raised one thousand eight hundred forty two of my offspring to maturity,” he adds with a sense of pride.
My eyes widen in disbelief. There is some kind of species gap here because, “Most humans have less than five children in their entire lives. How do you have over a thousand? How do you raise that many kids?”
Lora rattles contemplatively. “We spawn about twenty littlings every forty Earth days. It takes them thirty eight Earth days to reach maturity. I spent approximately ten Earth years breeding. Only eighteen of my littlings failed.”
“Holy shit! That’s crazy! Your kids are mature in forty days? That’s insanely fast. There must be trillions of you!”
Lora rattles a negative. “There are many billions of my species, certainly, but only one in a thousand of us are breeders. Most of my species are… drones. Your language very often is offensive, is it not?”
I grimace and shrug. “I don’t think it’s necessarily offensive to use the term ‘drone’ in reference to infertile people.
I’m not sure, though. If you’re offended, then I'd call it offensive. They’re born incapable of procreating?
” I have to make sure I’m understanding this right, because holy shit that is a lot of infertile people if only one in a thousand can produce offspring.
Lora rattles a negative again, baring his teeth, but he’s in thinking mode, not threatening mode.
He pulls up a device from the bracer on his arm and makes the noises of language toward it.
It’s not English he’s speaking, but it’s got the cadence of language.
A few moments later a voice responds. It sounds like he decided to phone a friend for this discussion.
Eventually the back and forth ends, and Lora puts the device away, turning his attention back to me.
With hesitant and halting speech as if he’s still learning the new words, he explains, “The imperial anthropologists tell me the best comparison for our species that you may be able to comprehend is the bees on your planet.
“I am a queen bee.” He says that with a note of disgust. “And I procreated with a new drone bee for every pod of littlings I spawned. The difference is that all of our drones are also the worker bees, and our queens are only fertile for about ten earth years. After we have fulfilled our duty, we are free to choose whatever job we would like to train for.”
“What job did you decide to train for?” I wonder why someone who can choose anything they want would want to be part of the invasion force and be part of the reeducation team? I don’t know, I’m just guessing.
“I always saw myself as a peacekeeper for my people, so I trained with that division when I finished my spawning cycle.” Something about the way he says this makes me think there was something a little… wrong with his chosen profession.
“Do a lot of the… breeding people… of your species go into peacekeeping?” It’s hard to get the terminology right when you’re dealing with a completely alien species that has a capability of being offended, and also you’re trying not to offend the one whose lap you’re sitting on because apparently you have a crush on him…