Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 44256 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 221(@200wpm)___ 177(@250wpm)___ 148(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 44256 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 221(@200wpm)___ 177(@250wpm)___ 148(@300wpm)
Aithar is completely free. I take a step back, glancing toward the nearby knife.
He puts his hands up. “Don’t panic. You’re not in danger. I’m just disappointed you didn’t want to get to know me better after all, though I suppose I’m not surprised.”
Does he look slightly defeated at that? Depressed? “You…you really thought this was a fucking date?”
His smile doesn’t reach his eyes. “I had my hopes.”
I gesture at the chair. “Even after the cuffs and the nipple clamp?”
He rubs his hand over his shorn hair. “I would not judge anyone on their turn-ons. I wanted to see what you were going to do with me. I do like a strong female, and for you to survive so capably, you are very strong indeed.”
Why is he so likable despite everything? It’s making me crazy. I’d prefer if he went back to the hard, sneering man I remember that pulled Rafaela away from me. I hold out a shaking hand. “Please. Please just tell me what you did with my sister? I know it means nothing to you, but it’s everything to me. It’s killing me that I don’t know what’s happened to her—”
“You still don’t understand?” His voice is gentle. “Do you know what race I am, Michaela?”
I shake my head. “You’re an alien. That’s all I know. But I remember your face. I see it in my nightmares.”
He flinches ever so slightly, but the smile on his lips remains. “I am a’ani.” His tone remains solicitous and kind. “We are an extinct people that are cloned for labor. We are no longer born, but created to be slaves. You recognize my face because I will look the same as everyone that came from the same lab that I did. In fact, there is another here that shares very similar features to me, because we were created in the same place. His name is Dopekh, but he is not your kidnapper, either. Dopekh would not harm a female. I am sorry, but I am not the man you seek.”
I stare at him, wordless. A…clone?
Aithar rubs his knuckles. “A’ani are very fond of tattoos because it is the best way we can individualize ourselves when we share the same appearance with others. Do you remember his tattoos?”
“Hands,” I manage to choke out. “He had tattoos on his hands.”
“A great many of us do,” Aithar says with a nod. “Especially when we work with our hands. Perhaps he was in labor of some kind before he was enlisted to help his master with acquiring humans. I wish I could help you more, but I cannot. I do know a few bounty hunters that might be interested in hunting down a missing human female.”
He’s…offering to help me.
After I tied him up and threatened to cut his throat.
I’m so confused. Is he who he claims to be? A freaking clone that happens to look like the same evil bastard that I can’t forget? I search his face and see nothing but kindness in his gaze. There’s no cruelty to his features, no hardness to his mouth. Maybe…maybe he’s telling the truth. He’s certainly been confused by my accusations. I thought it was all an act.
And he could have escaped at any time and opted not to, just because he wanted to talk to me.
I’m suddenly exhausted. I drop to a crouch, hugging my knees and wanting nothing more than to curl up into a protective ball. To my horror, tears are beginning and they seep into my voice. “I…I just want to find my sister.”
He remains where he is but drops into a crouch as well. “I’m so sorry, Michaela. I almost wish I was him. If you like, you can torture me a little to be sure.”
I glance over at him, swiping at my face with my hand. His expression is earnest, his eyes full of sympathy. He clasps his hands in front of him, posture easy as he crouches. “You’re not him,” I finally concede. “You’re far too nice. I doubt you’d ever kick me in the ribs.”
“I would never,” he agrees solemnly. “And I am afraid I am always told I am too nice.”
My nose is running and I wipe it with the corner of my tunic, like a child. “You—you really know bounty hunters? You think they could help me?”
Aithar grimaces. “Well, the one I’m thinking of isn’t my favorite person, but she’s really good at locating missing things. If anyone can find someone missing, it’s Zebah. If she’s not available, we can always ask Bethiah, but she’s not very predictable.”
Names. I have names. Zebah. Bethiah. Bounty hunters. It’s a start, and it’s more than I had. “I’m…sorry I kidnapped you and tried to cut your throat.”
“I know it sounds strange, but I truly did not mind.” He continues to regard me for a moment longer, then gets to his feet and crosses the house over to my bathroom. Returning with a hand towel, he offers it to me. “Will you be all right? I know old memories can still be traumatizing. I did not mean to make you think of those you lost.”