Total pages in book: 159
Estimated words: 144433 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 722(@200wpm)___ 578(@250wpm)___ 481(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 144433 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 722(@200wpm)___ 578(@250wpm)___ 481(@300wpm)
He turns and holds the newly potted plant up.
"Better, don't you think? Sometimes a suffering thing just needs a new home and a caring touch."
CHAPTER
NINETY-SIX
MAEVE
We're both quiet on the way home. I'm sure Nassakth had plenty of things to say to Zhur, none of which he's speaking of. His fanboyish adoration has changed to a quiet thoughtfulness and I hope the ex-gladiator wasn't too mean to him.
As for me, I scratch at my throat and think about Kim...and Kim's kids.
I didn't get to see them, of course. Kim was very polite to me, but she'd made it clear that I was not getting anywhere near her children. Instead, she treated me to several vid-stills that act like three-dimensional photos. It was a mistake to look at them, because my heart melted into a puddle and I'm not sure I'll ever recover. Those were the cutest kids I've ever seen. Triplets with fluffy, ridiculous tufted hair, triangular ears, and big, cat-like eyes. One of the girls has a praxiian-like mouth and a pink little nose, and the other two have Kim's nose and mouth. The boy is the same shade of gray as his father, and all three of them have cute, stubby little tails.
They look so cute they can't possibly be real.
I hate that I want one. I've never had baby fever before. Never even gave it a second thought. But now that I'm getting laid on the regular again, my hormones have apparently decided to wake up my biological clock. Now I can't stop thinking about what Zhur's kid would look like. A fluffy white persian kitten-person, with long white fur and a pink bow mouth and I swear I can practically feel my ovaries shooting out eggs at the thought.
I scratch at my neck again and look over at Zhur. He's been silent since we left. I really thought he'd be talking non-stop after meeting his hero. He and Nassakth talked for at least an hour before returning to us, and now Zhur isn't speaking. That's not a good sign. "You're quiet."
"I am...thinking."
"Thinking about how you can live under his bed?" I joke. "Thinking about setting up cameras all over his house so you can watch his every move?"
Zhur glances over at me and manages a small, distracted smile. "Not quite."
I don't like this pensiveness. It's not like Zhur. If he's unhappy with something, he makes sure to let everyone know. "What did he say to you? Was he mean? Do I need to go kick his ass?"
This makes him chuckle a little. "A ridiculous thought."
"Oh, I don't know. I'm sure I could get in one good bite before he snapped me like a twig." At least Zhur is smiling, though. I scratch at my arm as I drive. "Seriously. Tell me what's wrong."
"I will, but I need to think on it for a while first. My head is full of many thoughts, and I need to sort through them, first. Then we will talk, I promise."
He sounds so melancholy. I absolutely hate it. Even when he was at his lowest moments, he was angry at the world around him and indignant, not sad and depressed. He should be elated after meeting his hero. He should be talking about how he smelled or some creepy shit like that. He shouldn't be bummed. "Just don't hold it in, all right? I worry about you."
Zhur reaches out and touches my arm. "My sweet Maeve. Have I mentioned that you are an excellent wife?"
I give him a curious look. Now I really don't trust whatever conversation they had. "Never, actually."
He lifts his hand and I immediately scratch at the spot on my arm.
"Well, you..." Zhur pauses. "You are turning red. Is this a normal reaction on human skin, Maeve?"
Turning red? Like a sunburn? I'm not hot, though. My clothes are just annoying. "Hmm?"
He points at my arm, pulling my sleeve back to reveal huge, ugly welts on my pale skin. "This. Is it normal? It looks uncomfortable."
I yelp in surprise at the sight...and then immediately want to scratch at it. "What the fuck is that?" I pull one hand off the steering controls of the air-sled and scratch frantically at my crawling arm. It doesn't help, just makes the itching sensation worse. "Did something bite me? It looks like an allergic reaction."
"Quit touching it," he tells me. "We are almost home. We'll look you over once we land. For now, both hands on the steering, please."
Then I'm giving him another surprised look, because he's calling my place “home.” There's definitely something afoot, but I'm too itchy to care.
The ride back to the house seems to take forever, and the moment we land, I fling myself out of the sled and run for the front door. I step inside and immediately haul my dress over my head, checking it for bugs. Risda has never really had a massive bug population that I've seen, so much to the point that a lot of the human farms utilize artificial pollinators for their fruit crops. But there's no mistaking the large, irregular welts rising all over my lower arms and on my neck and cleavage. There's one along my jaw, too, and all of it itches like mad. I whimper and scratch frantically, racing for the bathroom. A cool shower, that's what I need.