Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 62128 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 311(@200wpm)___ 249(@250wpm)___ 207(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 62128 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 311(@200wpm)___ 249(@250wpm)___ 207(@300wpm)
“Of course,” I say. I have already learned it is best not to argue with Avel. I’m sure I can find a way to do what I need to do where Sullivan is concerned without making it apparent to him that I have done anything at all. Men, even human men, quite often fail to notice hostilities between women. I can only assume the effect will be amplified by his saurian nature. I should be able to drive Sullivan into a rage while appearing entirely innocent.
“Good,” he says. “Now. Let’s get you ready.”
Before I know it, I am sitting at a dinner table in the alpha’s palatial abode. Avel has dressed me in a blue satin robe-type dress which fits because it wraps around and I can sort of adjust it to work. I don’t care about the dress or how nice Avel looks tonight — and he looks damn nice. I never imagined I would find an alien so incredibly attractive. He is sex on legs. He is pure fucking carnal energy.
Our host is Alpha Thorn. Thorn is one of the most predatory looking saurians I have ever met. He is tall and lean and muscular, and golden red scales trammel the length of his body. He has raven black hair and bright gold eyes, and he is an imposing figure at the head of the table. I’d pay more attention to him, but my mortal enemy is here and she is drawing all my attention.
I am sitting across from the so-called Captain Sullivan, a woman I mutinied against, and to say that the atmosphere is tense is an understatement. Sullivan is a very attractive woman, which has always worked in her favor. She has big green eyes that often well with misguided passion for one stupid idea or another, and the kind of curling blonde hair that always looks perfect if she just scrunches it after a shower. She does not have gravitas in the traditional sense. What she does have is a sort of effusive energy that draws people in and makes them want to be a part of whatever she is doing.
Sullivan tries to avoid my gaze at first, but eventually she can’t help herself and casts occasional glances at me. Every time she does, I give her a cold stare and an even icier smile. My darker appearance, raven dark hair that lightens to violet when it is exposed to the sun, and cool blue eyes, along with added height, made me an enforcer on her ship. I understand Avel’s role well enough.
I look at Avel, curiously. I am wondering how often he feels the same pangs of frustration I used to feel when I had to tolerate the dubious leadership of another. Thorn does not seem nearly as incompetent as Sullivan, but following orders will always grate when one has one’s own sense of how things should be done.
This dinner is actually quite an opportunity for me to assuage some of the many festering interpersonal wounds between Sullivan and me. It is the first time I have ever been able to confront her without the crew present. I have always had to play at least slightly nice with Sullivan. I suppose I have to now too, but we are free of the crew, and I don’t really care what the saurians think of me.
A fleeting moment of eye contact, and she turns her attention to the alpha, pretending she cares what he and Avel are talking about. They are talking about nothing of any interest. They’re literally discussing how to build a bridge, and frankly, it sounds like neither one of them has ever constructed anything. It’s a pure male conversation, in which both parties assume competence in something they have no experience in on account of them considering themselves generally pretty good at other things.
“How are you, Sullivan? You look well. Being kept really seems to suit you.”
I start with a comment that seems pleasant and is of course an insult. But the saurians won’t know that. They’ll mistake it for polite conversation.
Sullivan’s face contorts as she tries to work out a way to answer that question. If she says she’s well, she’s admitting that being a kept woman is working well for her, which will sting her pride too deeply. I, for one, am glad she is under someone’s lock and key. It would have been better to never bother to attempt a rescue on her at all, but the crew insisted. Never underestimate the misplaced loyalty of a group of people whose suffering is caused by a charismatic leader, and their ability to attach even more strongly to that leader.
“I am well,” she says, nearly choking on the words.
I smile, perhaps a little too smugly. “It’s wonderful to see you nice and safe, and knowing you’re confined here means everybody else is safer too.”