6. ZOE

Iknew from the start that having sex with Raasla wouldn't end in a long-term relationship. Hell, it probably would not even be repeated, but I would be damned if I let him kick me out right then.

There was no way I would return to the others wet as a cat and submit myself to their ridiculing, no matter how well deserved it might be.

He grunted a response, earning him a glare from me, daring him to physically throw me out. In the end, I stayed, but I wasn't sure if he just didn't have the energy to kick me out because he was still in obvious pain or if he relented. Either way, he limped over to a wall and opened a hidden compartment filled with neatly folded Cryon uniforms.

Raasla's clothes were already dry—thanks to their alien tech, I supposed. Under more grunts, he put them on while I dressed in the Cryon uniform, knotting it in places until it covered me without the pant legs dragging on the ground. I looked ridiculous, but I wasn't about to enter a beauty contest.

"Are you still hurting?" I asked when his features loosened some.

"It's getting better."

"Let me see." Without waiting for permission, I gripped his forearm and rolled the sleeve up. A decorative black line sneaked up his forearm all the way to his bicep, from where it vanished from sight underneath his shirt. I wanted to ask him to take it off to get a better look, but I thought better of it.

"It doesn't look like a blood poison line," I mumbled, remembering the hole in his back. The stripes weren't spreading from there. But what did I know about his physiology? Other than that his cock could do… nope, wasn't going to go there.

He dug into the black box and pulled out another shiny instrument with a small screen attached to it that soon filled with alien symbols. "What's it say?"

He grunted.

Fine.

"You should go get something to eat and rest," he suggested without taking his eyes off the screen.

I didn't have another excuse to stay since I was dressed now. Besides, we had both gotten what we wanted, and frankly, his company left much to be desired for, except the sex thing...

"Right. See you around, I suppose," I muttered, walking to the door and wondering how the hell I was going to find the others. The thought of riding alone in the elevator didn't appeal to me that much either.

"Hold on." He sighed. "You'll never find your way back."

Oh, he did have some manners after all.

We walked in silence down the corridors, one looking like the next, and I would have walked right by the elevator had he not stopped me. A few minutes later, we found the rest of my group in a large, spacious room that resembled a mess hall.

"Finally!" someone shouted.

"We can't figure out how these things work, and we don't even know if we can eat their food," one of the two soldiers explained as he approached us, pointing at a row of black boxes standing on tables against a wall.

Without a word, only his customary grunt, Raasla walked to the boxes, leaving the soldier and me to follow him.

"Eric," he introduced himself as we caught up with Raasla.

"Zoe," I replied just as we reached the boxes and watched Raasla wave his hand over the top of the first box. Instantly, it came to life. Colorful pictures of food choices lit up the screen, and smaller ones appeared on the right side.

"You can add to your selection here," Raasla said and showed us how to swipe the image to get a new one. Then he put his finger on one of the smaller ones, moved that selection up and down, and tapped whenever he saw something that caught his eye.

When he was done, he tapped at an alien symbol on the bottom, and out came a steaming meal.

"Yummy," Eric remarked, rolling his eyes dubiously.

I fully reciprocated the sentiment because… the mush on the plate didn't look appetizing at all. It resembled the gross stuff in the troughs.

Eric stepped to the next box over and copied Raasla's moves until he too held a plate of steaming mush before him. His was orange, though, in contrast to the blue stuff Raasla had selected.

"All set?" Raasla asked, already turning to leave without waiting for an answer.

"Hold on," a woman who had been in one of the other cells yelled.

Raasla's body stiffened, screaming that he wasn't in the mood to stay and interact with us, but she didn't care.

"Thank you for saving us," she said. "Please stay and eat with us. We need some answers."

I didn't notice that I was grinding my teeth until my right molar protested in pain. Great, now I had hurt myself without any obvious dental facilities around.

Raasla assessed the woman, who looked to be in her late twenties and so beautiful even the Cryon uniform couldn't distract from it. Actually, most of the others had been able to take a shower and dress in Cryon uniforms.

"It will be my pleasure," Raasla replied as his whole demeanor changed from resentment to charming alien. He gave her the same smoldering smile he had given me before we… fucked, and I ground my teeth again.

You knew what he was, my mind reminded me.

I still don't have to like it when he prances around like this not even an hour after we…ouch, that was my molar again. Fuck.

"So have you discovered anything useful?" Eric distracted me.

"Useful?" Right, I reminded myself, you were gone with Raasla for a while. "There are more dead Cryons on other floors," I blurted out the first thing that came to my mind and selected random food from the box so I didn't have to look at Eric—and have him notice my heating face—or Raasla, which would result in more teeth grinding.

Eric led me to a table where my back was to the alien. I didn't think he did it on purpose, but I was glad I didn't have to watch Raasla and that woman flirt.

"This is Peter," Eric introduced the other soldier who joined us at the table. "Peter, Zoe."

Peter nodded. "Ma'am."

"Zoe is fine," I said, pushing my spork through the yellow mush on my plate. My stomach turned painfully, reminding me that I hadn't eaten in days. With a deep sigh, so I plastered a more courageous smile on my lips than I felt. "Well, here goes nothing."

I pushed the spork into my mouth, expecting to taste the vilest thing ever, but it wasn't all that bad.

"Well?" Peter asked.

"It's okay," I said, filling another spork, "kinda like mashed potatoes mixed with turmeric or curry or something."

Eric took a bite. "Mine tastes like mashed potatoes mixed with oranges. Wanna try?"

We took turns taking bites of each other's plates and decided, yeah, the food wasn't that bad.

"You mentioned more floors and bodies." Eric nudged me.

"Right. Yes." I filled them in about the elevator and how it took you out into space and the upper floors, trying not to analyze that I was eating and discussing dead bodies at the same time.

"We should get a detail together and investigate." Eric nodded at Peter.

"Good luck with that." Peter swiped his spork over the group of people, all more or less happily eating at the moment. "Not many of them will be willing to pitch in."

"We need to motivate them," I suggested. "Raasla said it'll take five space days, whatever that means, to reach that planet that takes in refugees." We all looked at each other with pinched faces at that statement. None of us would have ever thought of ourselves as refugees. And here we were.

"Anyway," I pushed on through the awkward moment, "we need to keep them busy during that time. Otherwise, they'll fall into depression."

Eric tilted his head questionably at me.

"I'm not an expert," I admitted, "but I watched my parents retire. My mom has many hobbies, my father… nothing. He died only a few years after his retirement. People aren't meant to sit on their asses and watch cowboy western movies all day."

Not that there were many of those around here, but the soldiers got my meaning.

"Keep them busy," Eric agreed.

Briefly, I wondered who had appointed us leaders, but looking around, I didn't see anybody else step forward. The two military men were the most likely candidates, and me… I was just falling in by dumb luck and default, I supposed. And because I had never learned to keep my mouth shut when I should.

"So how do we know a space day or night?" Peter asked.

"Good question." Eric looked over at Raasla, then at me.

I shook my head. "Oh no, I spent all the time I'm willing to spend with him today."

Eric's left eyebrow rose.

"He's an arrogant bastard," I elucidated.

His eyebrow arched another notch.

"I'll go," Peter rose, taking his now empty plate with him.

I had to turn in my chair to watch him approach Raasla. A surge of resentment moved through me at the sight of the woman having her hand on his arm, animatedly talking to him. His black eyes rested on her, and there was that damned, dimpled smile again, that went straight into my tummy, making it flutter. Stupid alien man.