Total pages in book: 175
Estimated words: 166095 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 830(@200wpm)___ 664(@250wpm)___ 554(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 166095 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 830(@200wpm)___ 664(@250wpm)___ 554(@300wpm)
Her voice quavers. “W-what are you going to do with me?”
“Feed you.”
“Why?”
“You don’t want me to feed you?”
She shakes her head, trembling. “I-I don’t understand what’s going on. Why did you steal me?”
Oh. That. I shrug, the sound making a comfortable creaking noise. Once upon a time, I hated my cybernetics, but now they’re a reassuring part of me, a sign that I can’t be so easily destroyed as I once was. “It’s a game between us, me and Bethiah. She steals my ship, I usually steal it back. We do a little dance, see how far we can push the other, and then she runs away. She’s the only female I’ve ever met more scared of commitment than me.” I shrug, and push a button for sweet noodles. Females like sweets, don’t they? “This time, though, I saw you.”
And I was jealous. And I don’t like being jealous. But I don’t say that part out loud.
“Me?”
I nod, watching the noodles as the bowl fills up. “You weren’t a bounty. She hasn’t tagged you, and her name’s not attached to anything that meets your description in the guild database, which means it’s a private job. I take it you’re not a criminal?” When she makes a sound of distress, I nod. “Figured as much. So…I’m not a big fan of slave trading. Thought it’d piss her off if I took you instead of the ship this time. I’m not much inclined to give you back, though.”
I turn and hand her the bowl and then a pair of eating sticks. Part of me wonders if she’s going to try and attack me with the smooth metal sticks. It’s a test, just like the way Bethiah and me test each other. Give the other party a stimulus and see how they react.
But the small female doesn’t attack me. She takes the eating sticks, trusting thing that she is, and the bowl, and gives me a confused look. “If you’re not going to give me back, then what are you going to do with me?”
“Now that, I haven’t exactly decided yet. Didn’t think much past pissing her off. Tends to go that way with me and her.”
“You and Bethiah,” she echoes. “You’re the boyfriend?”
“Am I?” Now why does hearing that please me so much?
Seventeen
DORA
I eat a bite of noodles and watch the man cleaning up the tiny kitchen area of his apartment.
If that’s Bethiah’s boyfriend, he’s both exactly what I expected…and not.
He looks as rough around the edges as his ship. His face is hard and unyielding, as if he’s not the type to smile much at all…or ever. He has scars around the red glowing eye that must be cybernetic, and his horns are capped with metal that looks as battered as Bethiah’s ship. The form-fitting tunic he wears is tight enough that I can see a ridge where the metal on his chest ends and the rest of him begins. He’s got a lot of replacement pieces, and the parts that aren’t replacements seem to be covered with black, busy tattoos that are stark against his blue skin. He’s got short black hair that’s ever so slightly messy and hangs in a tousled flop over his ears, just brushing against his neck.
The sight of him is utterly menacing, which is why it’s so genuinely bizarre that he’s being nice…for a kidnapper.
I’m also weirdly getting the feeling that I haven’t been kidnapped so much as borrowed. Like stealing someone is just something they do. That it’s part of their routine, their courtship.
In that case, he’s absolutely Bethiah’s man.
I eat another bite of noodles and take a furtive look around the apartment. It’s small, but I guess that’s to be expected. There’s a door on the other side of the space and I can hear the distant hum of voices, the buzz of life in the station, even through the walls. The place looks a little beat up and hard-used, with scuffs on the metal walls and a dent on the ceiling (I’m not sure how that got there). But it’s neat as a pin and tidy, and as I glance at Jamef (because this has to be Jamef), he swipes a cloth over the touch pad on the dispenser, getting rid of fingerprints. He likes things clean. I wonder if that’s why he’s not with Bethiah. She’s a mess and she’s made a mess of his poor ship.
Is it possible for a couple to break up over a conflict of cleanliness? I suspect it is. I guess that means Bethiah is…single? The thought fills me with a vague sense of pleasure.
Well, single…ish. Because Bethiah’s ex kidnapping me isn’t exactly a “leave me alone” signal. Worried, I shove another bite of noodles into my mouth.
“So.” Jamef tosses the rag down and turns, and as he does, his metal parts creak a little. He eyes me, that red gaze unnerving. “Why’s Bethiah trading human slaves? Who does she owe a favor to?”