Chapter 5

Sandy

Okay, so she was definitely being treated like a prisoner here.

Frowning, Sandy tapped at the windows of the room she had been locked in. Literally locked in. She had checked all the doors and windows. None of them opened. She was debating the wisdom of trying to break the glass, but she was at least three stories off the ground, and she wasn’t entirely sure she even could, because the material she was tapping didn’t feel like normal glass.

It had been three days since she’d arrived here.

She hadn’t seen Rane again. She hadn’t seen Elffa again. She hadn’t even seen the creepy ratchi guys. Food was delivered to her through a dumbwaiter style system, and no one came to ask if she needed anything else.

As far as comforts were concerned, she was fine. The bedroom was lovely. The bed was a hanging type, suspended on a long, thick, single rope off the ceiling, inside a little nest-like, teardrop shaped, wicker basket. All the pillows were shades of beige and white, but they weren’t uncomfortable. There was no blanket, not even a sheet, and she didn’t know enough about these people to know if that was a deliberate snub or just how they did things.

She also had a private bathroom – with no window at all. Inside was a shower, no bathtub, that she had used to scald and freeze herself in turn trying to figure out how it worked. It came equipped with a bunch of toiletries. However, there weren’t any pads or tampons or anything equivalent that she could find. It wasn’t a big deal, as she’d had her ovulation turned off as part of the immigration process so she wouldn’t get pregnant, but it was still something of an oversight.

It wasn’t the only one either. She didn’t know how much the bird like, slender ladies of this planet ate, but it definitely wasn’t enough for her. She was still hungry, and since she was locked in with no one to communicate with, she couldn’t even ask for more food.

She hadn’t bothered to unpack. She took what she needed from her suitcase each day, and washed her clothes in the shower each night because she didn’t know where dirty laundry was supposed to go, and she didn’t want to risk any of her stuff being taken.

She was ready to leave at the first chance she was given.

The problem was finding a chance.

She didn’t have a combot or any other communication device, and her phone, of course, didn’t work out here. She had no idea where the embassies were either, and had no way to look them up. She wasn’t above just walking back to the city, but the problem was that there wasn’t a road. The hovering cars just flew over the tops of a lovely, picturesque forest spread all around the mansion. She’d have to hike through wilderness to get to the city she could make out in the distance from her bedroom window.

Not ideal. Mostly because her orthopedic shoes weren’t good for hiking.

But if it was between that or remaining locked up…

Sandy turned from the window and went to sit in one of the low, egg-like chairs in the corner. There was a board here for a game she didn’t recognize and didn’t know how to play. Or maybe it was a decor piece she was seeing as a game board, she didn’t know.

She crossed her arms, thinking. She needed a plan.

Logically, she knew she should be afraid or something. She’d clearly stumbled onto some weird mother-son drama she definitely did not sign up for. Drama that, for some reason, led to her being imprisoned in a mansion. There were danger signs and red flags all over the place, and she was ready to pull the cord.

But she wasn’t freaking out. She was calm as she tried to think of a solution. Partially because she didn’t actually fear for her welfare – at least, not yet. No one had given any sign that they were going to hurt her. Accidentally starve her, maybe, but she hadn’t sensed any hostility yet. Mostly, she was just waiting.

Patience, her grandmother had always said, was a virtue. And they had it in spades. It took a long time to crochet a blanket or knit a sweater or embroider a pillow. Those kinds of projects required a fine touch, a fair amount of planning, and a lot of patience.

So, Sandy was calm. She wouldn’t make a scene until it was time to do so. Besides, troublemakers were treated harshly. If they knew she was trying to get out, her prison would get that much more secure, and that would be detrimental overall.

So, she waited. She plotted. She planned.

Part of her was curious though.

What exactly was happening here?

This mother and son pairing wasn’t at all normal. There was something between the two of them that went far further than just her. In fact, she felt like she was completely incidental to whatever weirdness was going on here.

But it also wasn’t her problem.

Creepy lady could take her smelly son and both of them could walk.

And Sandy would be registering this concern with True Match the moment she got back. Clearly, this soulmate stuff was quackery of the most severe kind.

Loud thudding in the hallway outside broke her out of her reverie. She blinked, focusing back on reality, then onto the door, as she waited.

Wherever this room was, it was clearly not a highly trafficked area, because she never heard anyone moving around outside. What was going on now?

She got her answer when the door beeped as it unlocked and slid open.

Sandy didn’t move as Rane was thrown inside. Literally. Again.

It was only the second time she had met him, and it was the second time the creepy ratchi duo were manhandling him like a sack of trash.

He looked better today, at least. His feathers were darker and waterlogged, but he was fully dressed and didn’t smell like the dumpster behind a winery.

As she watched, he quickly recovered, moving with surprising grace as he rolled with the fall and came up on his feet. He ran to the door before it could close, grabbing the two panels and grunting as he tried to keep them apart. The door beeped, obviously angry at being interrupted, as the panels opened again.

Rane opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, Blue drew his fist back and slammed it – CRACK! – across his jaw.

Rane flew into the room, hitting the ground with a grunt of pain.

This time, he wasn’t fast enough to get up and back to the door. He could only pound against them, roaring his frustration, after they had already closed and locked. He punched the hard metal with surprising strength – and durability, considering he didn’t break his hands. If nothing else, it confirmed to her that brute strength wouldn’t be enough to get them open.

However, he only kept up the protest a short time before dropping his head against it, fists shaking, accepting his defeat.

Sandy hadn’t moved. She remained perched in her chair as she watched Rane get up the courage to finally turn around. It was a slow process, but it wasn’t like she had anything better to do, so she just waited.

Watching.

Learning.

Patient.

Rane finally dropped his arms and turned to her. Blood dripped from his broken, already swollen lip. It looked painful, but he didn’t pay it any mind as it stained his creamy white shirt. His crest was flat to his head. His shoulders were slumped.

And there it was again. That defeated look in his eyes.

But just like before, he banished it quickly as he smirked at her.

“Still here, ugly little human?” He asked with a sneer.

Sandy said nothing. She just blinked at him. Watching him carefully now. Trying to figure out this guy that clearly wanted nothing to do with her. To the point he was willing to take a punch to the face to avoid being in the same room with her.

Now, Sandy wouldn’t call herself the most socially knowledgeable person on Earth – or Levtiram, as it were – but even she could tell that wasn’t normal. His urge to get away from her was for more than just general disgust or displeasure.

Something was definitely going on here, and she remained unmoved, watching this guy as she waited to see what he would reveal to her in the aching silence.

It took only a few seconds before he couldn’t stand it anymore.

“Well?” He smirked. “Aren’t you going to say anything?”

Sandy said nothing, observing his body language. She didn’t just watch daytime talk shows and game shows. She and her grandmother also enjoyed soap operas. She devoured the slow-paced drama like a starving man lapping at the slow trickle of sap from a maple tree. Ravenous and eager and unapologetic. It taught her a great deal about reading small changes in body language and the inherent story telling involved in subtly.

And Rane’s body language was an open book.

He laughed derisively. “What? Nothing to say? Didn’t realize you were stupid as well as ugly, puny human!”

He was sweating. That wasn’t water dripping down his neck or off his temple. His eyes were just a bit too wide. Crazed. His hands were still clenched into tight fists. If it weren’t for the golden claw caps he wore, no doubt he’d be cutting into his own palms. That was either a sign of deep fear or deep rage, but she didn’t think this was anger. Nothing else about his body language matched up to that.

He took a step her way, scoffing. “I can’t believe you actually even came here. I mean, how foolish can a person get? Is naivety and gullibility a trait of humans? You just go off into the unknown chasing after a male you’ve never even spoken to before?!”

What was he afraid of? Certainly not her. Then, his mother?

Ah. Yes, that had to be it. His mother had been the one to bring her here. She must have been the one sending Sandy those romantic messages promising her all good things. For whatever reason, Elffa brought Sandy here as a mate for her son, and that made Rane absolutely terrified . Whatever his mother was planning was a horror he couldn’t bear, so it was better that he lash out and insult her than risk her remaining here.

“You’re really just going to sit there?” He laughed, the sound bordering on unhinged, as he took another step her way. “Go on! Say something! Prove you’re not as useless of a lump as you look! Huh!?”

So, then, that brought up a question: Was this an enemy-of-my-enemy-is-my-friend situation, or a no-friends-on-either-side situation?

“I should have known,” he continued, walking right over to her. Looming over her. Doing his best to look intimidating when his crest was only giving sad, wet bird vibes.

That was how people used the word ‘vibes’ right? She actually hadn’t gotten to use the word before, so she hoped she was doing it right. Slang changed so fast; it really was impossible to keep up with if you weren’t involved with people regularly.

Maybe she shouldn’t even bother. She definitely wasn’t going to involve herself with people after all this. The moment she got back to Earth, she’d find a new home out at the end of a long, empty drive and make that her own old lady house. She didn’t want adventures this bad. No, instead, she’d settle for space to sit and knit in the sunshine, with a room just for her projects, and a nice kitchen with-

“Are you even listening?” Rane demanded to know, jerking her back to reality. “Stop ignoring me, you… you…”

Sandy blinked as he struggled to find a word. Driven to the brink by her insistence on silence. But he had yet to prove he deserved her words, and she was getting a lot out of him just by watching. So, she kept her tongue as he sputtered, then turned with a huff.

“Fine. Sit there. Doing nothing! I don’t care what you do!” He walked back to the other side of the room, then turned back around, glaring at her. “Y-You think I don’t have so many more, better females, huh? I fuck a new one each night! I don’t even remember their names. You think I’ll remember someone as… as… you !”

Oh, he was starting to spiral. That was probably bad. She was half tempted to say something now, but, again, she kept her silence.

And that made him insane because he was stomping back towards her, raging in the face of her equanimity.

“You really think you can be mated to me?” He asked, breathless and wild. “I’m famous! I’m infamous ! Everyone knows that I’m a whore! A druggie! A drunkard! There isn’t a vice I haven’t been treated for overdosing on! I’ve had orgies with multiple females and still came out of it unsatisfied! Ha ha! And you think you can please me! You really think you’re a good match for me, huh? You’re delusional!”

Spiraling hard . His word choices were pretty interesting too. He didn’t say there wasn’t a drug he hadn’t enjoyed, he said overdosed on. And no female satisfied him didn’t sound like he was just too much to please, but more like he was unable to be pleased.

Interesting.

And very telling.

“Say something!” He roared, his voice breaking as he rushed towards her-

-only to trip over his own feet and collapse onto all fours before her. Breathing hard. A sound suspiciously like a choked cry coming from his throat as his head drooped and his back arched up, like he was about to be sick.

“Just say something,” he begged, hands shaking, claw caps digging into the carpet.

She was silent, watching him without comment as he broke down in front of her.

“Please…” he finally gasped, sitting back.

He wasn’t crying, but his expression was devastated. Staring at her with such fathomless despair, it struck her right in the chest. He was really hurting. Not because of her silence. Whatever was happening between him and his mother, he was just as much a victim – if not more.

Sandy finally moved. She leaned forward, taking his face in her hands. He flinched like she might be about to strike him, but her touch was soft as she stroked his cheeks.

“It’s okay,” she told him simply. “You’re okay.”

He blinked, then his entire face collapsed. Broken. He sobbed once, his eyes filling with tears as he grabbed for her. Desperate. Needy. He latched onto her like a drowning man clutching for the only piece of driftwood in a tumultuous sea. Her legs opened, welcoming him, as he buried his face into her belly and cried.

“Sh,” she whispered, stroking his crest with one hand, his back with the other.

She didn’t think this was a case of no-friends-on-either-side or enemy-of-my-enemy at all. This seemed to her more like a victim trapped in a cage being tortured. Someone who had been surrounded by unfriendly people for so long, even the slightest hint of compassion was enough to push him over the brink her silence had driven him to.

And that really changed everything.