37. Vanessa

Chapter 37

"Iwish for . . . companionship," the carved god—goddess? –said.

"I'm not sure what you mean." I wavered, wanting to leave but feeling strangely compelled to remain here with this alien.

"I have no one to talk with," she said.

"But you live with this clan."

"They consider me a god. They don't speak with me very often."

That was sad. "What's your name?"

"I don't have a name."

"What do you mean?"

"My people don't . . . name each other."

"How do you refer to one of you who isn't there?" She truly was from another world. Or her ancestors were, assuming her species reproduced.

"We don't."

"I guess you don'tneeda name." I shouldn't feel bad for her. Names didn't mean much. It wasn't like we picked them for ourselves. But . . . I guess without one she felt . . . generic. That wasn't the right word, but I couldn't think of a better one.

"If you were going to name me, what would it be?" she asked.

"Oh, I couldn't do anything like that."

"Why not?"

"Because . . ." I strode closer to her and lowered my voice to keep Nevarn from overhearing. "They think you're a god."

"And you don't."

"You aren't one. Right?"

She said nothing, just stared at me.

"You can't be a god."

"Why not?"

"Because . . ." I didn't have an answer.

"Not everything has an explanation," she said. "Go ahead. Name me."

"You should name yourself." I explained about how babies were born on Earth and given names—ones they might never choose for themselves. "Name yourself and you won't end up with everyone calling you Brunhilda."

"I don't wish to do this for myself, though Brunhilda . . ."

"Don't even go there."

"Then name me."

"What if you're insulted by my choice?"

"Name me!"

I jerked in a breath. "My mom's name was Helena."

"Helena." She said it slowly as if tasting it. "I like it. Thank you."

"You're, um, welcome."

Pounding erupted from outside, and we all looked that way.

"Her mate has come for her," Helena said, her lidless eyes turning toward the door before flicking to Nevarn hovering near the wall. "You need to release her."

Something slammed against the outer wall, and the entire tree shuddered.

Helena frowned. "He will harm this structure that has been here for many, many generations."

"Vanessa," Aizor bellowed.

"Aizor!" I raced to the door but couldn't find a way to open it. "Let me out of here." I looked back at Helena. "Thank you for healing my arm."

She dipped her head forward. "Come see me again."

"If I need healing?"

"For any reason, even to talk."

I couldn't imagine what she'd want to talk about, but why not? "Sure. Thanks for the invitation."

Nevarn thrust himself between me and the door. "You cannot leave."

"If you don't get out of my way, I'm going to kick you."

He scowled down at me. "What do you think a kick from a puny female like you will do?"

"Do you really want to find out?"

"You're insignificant. Much too small to cause harm. I doubt you could hurt a mighty warrior like me."

"This is your last chance to get out of the way," I snarled.

"You'd be wise to listen to her, Traedor Nevarn." Even I could hear the warning in Helena's voice.

"I'm not convinced she's his mate," he said, though patiently. He wasn't a horrible guy. Conceited, yes. But someone would love him one day—and put him in his place. I almost wished I could be here to see it and cheer that poor woman on.

"See this knee?" I lifted it and tapped it with the tip of my finger.

He nodded slowly. "I . . . do."

"Males," the carved wooden woman said behind me. "They never listen, do they?"

"You're damned straight, they don't," I said.

"Yes, damned straight," she quipped.

"We listen," he said, frowning at my foot as I dropped it to the floor.

I curled my finger for him to lower his head and spoke slowly. "If you don't get out of my way, I'm going to plant this knee in your groin, and you're going think about your life choices every time you take a step after that."

His face cleared, and his eyes widened. With a little catch in his throat, he eased to the side, revealing the door.

"Open it, if you please," I said.

He reached over and touched something, and the panel slid to the side.

"Thank you." Turning, I waved to Helena. "Thanks again for the healing. Do you enjoy coffee?"

"I don't know what coffee is," she said.

"Do you drink liquids?"

"Sometimes."

Good enough. "You'll love it. One day soon, I'll bring you coffee, and we can sit, have a few cups. We can share girl talk."

"I have never had . . . girl talk, either."

"Then you've been missing out."

Her tickling hum echoed in the room, and her body shook with her laughter. "I believe you're right."