Chapter 8

CHAPTER

EIGHT

TRENCH

There’s still cum on the counter.

A reminder that makes my cock throb all over again.

Jess sings in the shower, and even though I don’t know the words, I feel like I could too. Being a specimen before was a nightmare. Being one now…

By the time she comes back down, I have the counter, cabinets, and floor disinfected. She almost looks disappointed.

“Lunch?” I ask.

She laughs a little. “I have worked up an appetite.”

We make the food together at her insistence. And when we sit, it’s my turn to ask some questions.

“How did you get into alien biology?”

“Biology first.” She says, and then she finishes chewing. “I loved animals and had a great middle school science teacher. She was the actual best. In high school, you guys showed up and suddenly there was a field of study that no one had ventured into before and a whole planet of biodiversity we’d never gotten our hands on.”

“We fascinate you, don’t we?”

“Don’t worry, it’s not a fetish.”

I laugh, but look down at my food. Not sure if I’d mind if it was.

“Every living creature on this planet fascinates me. But you definitely fascinate me a little more than others.”

The way her eyes lit up when she talked about how she fell into her field…

My chest is a little tighter than normal, and I can’t stop smiling. I’m a fool for wanting her to stay when I know she has to go.

It’s only going to get worse.

“Jess?”

We both look up, and Richter’s mate is standing on the threshold of my front door with Richter standing protectively behind her. No, that’s not right. His hand on her stomach is holding her back against him. Lightly restraining her.

Thank the Saints they didn’t show up earlier. Richter would call me a fool without a second thought. Laurel… she might have stabbed me.

Jess looks at me and quietly—so quietly a normal Sian wouldn’t be able to hear it—asks, “Do we need to change your locks?”

I imagine she had the same thought I did.

But she gets up and goes to Laurel, whom Richter has released, and I stand too.

They start talking so fast, I lose track of the conversation, and when they break apart, Jessica comes back to me with a wide smile on her face. But I’m watching the other two as Richter takes Laurel’s coat.

“Why haven’t you joined the group chat?” Laurel’s tone might be accusing, if she wasn’t trying to keep herself from laughing.

“I forgot.”

Laurel glares at her, even as she smiles. “Sure you did.”

While the other two are distracted, I dip my head to whisper, “Wouldn’t you have preferred to have stayed with them while you were here?”

“Think about the things I’ve asked you. Now imagine me asking them—all of them—of my brother-in-law.”

I didn’t want anyone answering the questions she’d asked me. “I can see how that would be problematic.”

“Awkward.” She looks at them again. “And I would not be collecting samples.”

I scowl and she smiles up at me. She was teasing.

Laurel comes back, looking me over, disapprovingly. I am glad I put on more clothing.

“You’re a terrible host,” she declares.

“And you are an uninvited guest.”

Laurel’s brows rise, and then she smiles at me before dragging Jessica to the couch.

I sit back and watch as Jessica and her sister talk about a half dozen things I don’t exactly understand, and another half dozen I do.

More information, more memories.

A half an hour ticks by before Laurel stretches, and Richter stands on some unspoken cue.

“We have to get home,” Laurel says, rolling her eyes. “I’m sure Trench has explained the reasons they have to stay close.”

Richter and I have both kept an eye on the map throughout the visit.

“Oh!” Jessica holds up a hand. “Wait just a second, I have something from Chrys for you.”

“Chrys?” Richter asks, his tone low—possibly jealous.

Laurel swats him on the chest. “Our youngest sister, you know that.”

I watch Jessica disappear upstairs, and when I look back, the two of them are staring at me. But Laurel’s smile has disappeared. She’s glaring at me, and I’m suddenly aware of how very dangerous human women are.

“I love my sister, and would love to have her here. But if you do something that forces her to stay when she doesn’t want to, Richter’s going to have to step in to save your life.”

“Your warning is unnecessary.” Perhaps the next words are saying too much. “I would like her to stay, but I fully understand what it’s like to have your choices taken away from you. I would never—knowingly—do it to someone else.”

Laurel looks like she wants to ask a question, but she doesn’t. With a terse nod, she says, “Good.” And goes to Richter who helps her back into her coat.

“Got it!” Jessica runs back down the stairs and deposits a small, but puffy square package in Laurel’s hands. “I know what it is, so you can wait to open it until you get home.”

Laurel’s eyes narrow, but she’s smiling. “What is it?”

“I’m not allowed to tell.”

She glares at Jess, but continues smiling. “Then I guess it’s a good thing we have to go, so I can open it in the car.”

“Are you ever going to be able to wait to open presents?”

“Never!”

They embrace again and whisper something between them. I know Richter can’t hear it, but he smiles. I have to wonder what the bond sends to him… perhaps he likes the feel of threats.

Laurel has just offered to kill me if I do anything to hurt her.

I would let her.

I stay where I am, waiting for them to leave. They saw themselves in, they can see themselves back out.

When Jess turns back to me and we’re alone, I tell her. “Your sister has threatened my life twice in the span of minutes.” I study her smile for a moment. “Are all the women in your family so vengeful?”

“Only when it comes to the people we love.”

I glance back at the door. “What present did your youngest sister send?”

“A baby blanket and some kids books on acrobatics and dancing.” She looks me over and rubs her hands together. “Now! Let’s go see what’s going on with those monsters!”

JESSICA

Trench watches silently as I familiarize myself with the monsters he has on hand. The decay rate is startling and fascinating at the same time.

Most of the groundwork is done for me, but there are little things I’d like to know that haven’t been noted.

I check through his equipment and don’t find what I’m looking for. “Do you have a spectrometer? I can jury-rig one if I need to.”

“I think I have what you will need.”

He slides a wall panel to the side and reveals a pristine device that is completely different from what I expect and yet, very clearly meant for the same purpose.

“Great. You can give me a crash course after dinner?”

“Of course.”

He helps me put the samples away and as I wash my hands I ask, “And what about when you’re done with them, do you take them back out into the ice?”

“I dispose of them in the lava pit.”

Right , the lava pit.

“Is there anything volatile that doesn’t go in?”

“Nothing from them, no.”

“Good to know.” And then I pause, because Isia is not Earth, but I can’t assume anything. “Is this volcano due for an eruption anytime soon?”

He tips his head to the side and his lips slant in a little smile. “No, the venting system keeps the magma from building up too much pressure. It shouldn’t erupt ever again.”

“Okay, good.”

“My mother designed it, actually,” he says softly, as he leads the way through the sanitizer.

“Did she?”

He nods and looks down at the tablet in his hand before pushing it into the wall to charge and heading for the kitchen. “It’s not biological, so it doesn’t technically fall under your purview, but I could show it to you sometime.”

“The venting system?” I clear my throat, hoping we’ll both ignore the excitement in my voice. “Is it in your outpost?”

“No, it would be a… field trip? I think that’s the term? You used it before, but I’m not sure it applies to this.”

“Oh!” I stand up a little straighter. “You want to take me out into the Zone?”

His eyes narrow. His brow ridges pinch. “Absolutely not. The facility is on the exterior of the outer caldera.”

“Got it.” Of course he wouldn’t take me out into the Zone.

He sits me on a barstool on the other side of the island and makes me promise not to move while he makes dinner.

“So, your mother was a scientist, what did your father do?”

“He repaired spaceships.”

“I’m sorry.”

He nods, but doesn’t say anything else.

“Is the whole ‘if your bondmate dies, you’ll die too’ thing just a human-Sian thing?”

He nods. “The bonding is a side effect of our inter-species mating. It didn’t exist in Sian-Sian pairings. I don’t believe previous efforts at finding a compatible species resulted in a bond, but I don’t know that with any certainty. Our physiologies work well together, but the bond is not a ‘Sian thing’.”

“So the jokes about sexually transmitted marriages aren’t too far off then.”

“Maybe.” He chuckles as he takes my plate to the table and we sit down to eat. “That’s something you might work out while you’re here.”

“You said your mother designed the system that keeps this volcano from erupting again. Did you know her?”

His jaw is tight, but he nods. “I was eight when she died. Arc had just been born. Those of us who were older when the Maker took us know our ages, with the exception of Arc, the younger ones don’t.”

“How old are you?”

“Forty five. Ward is the oldest among us. He was fourteen when the Maker took us.”

I don’t ask him if they were all taken from an orphanage when they were young like children experimented on in the race to find a polio vaccine. I don’t want him to relive anything he doesn’t want to.

But he speaks before I can tell him we don’t have to talk about it.

“I don’t know how many of us he took, but I would guess it was well over fifty.” His smile is tight, the kind of expression someone gives when they’re trying to soften a blow. “Only the sixteen of us who patrol the caldera are left.”

There’s a lump in my stomach that has settled too heavily. “Earth has its fair share of people who use science to excuse their monstrous actions too.”

The alarm for the Zone interrupts my ugly thoughts, and Trench seems to stand on reflex.

It’s probably for the best that the monsters out there killed all conversation of the monster in his past.

While he’s gone, I work through some of my notes. I don’t have much to send away, but I package up a report that should appease some of the people waiting for my data.

The instructions were very clear. So I upload everything and send it over to my Continental Security Service handler.

The wall screen immediately pings with a comm notification.

When I answer it, a purple man appears on the screen, not looking at me.

“Hello, Jessica, welcome to the planet.”

“Um, thanks.”

He finally turns to me and offers me a polite smile. “I am Riann. And I’ll be your CSS contact. I apologize for the extra hoops we’re making you jump through, but…”

“But there are some things you don’t want getting back to Earth?”

He nods. “I hope you’ll understand that I’ll be scrubbing your notes on the cavrinskh.”

“Sure.”

“There are certain things we’d rather not share until we fully understand them.”

“Of course. Would you like me to separate my reports from now on?”

“If you care to take the time, that would be helpful, but it’s not necessary.”

“What do I tell Dr. Hastings when he asks why that information has been withheld? He knows that they are part of my scope.”

“You can direct him to me for any questions about the final reports he receives.”

“Understood.”

He pauses and then asks, “Do you like Isia?”

“So far. I have only been here three days, though.”

He nods. “I hope our planet continues to meet with your approval. If you need anything—anything Drift or Trench cannot provide—let me know, and I will do my best to accommodate you.”

“Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind.”

He dips his head in acknowledgement and the screen cuts out. Just a wall again.

“What more could I need?” I look toward the door, wishing I knew when Trench would be back.

I go to my room and sink into a bath, hoping the hot water might wash away all the ugly feelings fluttering under my skin.

Trench is back by the time I get out.

There’s a new rug under my bed and a trio of items on the dresser that look like a self defense keyring.

The outpost is dark, and I wonder if he thought I went to bed, but he would have heard me.

I put on my pajamas. And walk quietly down the hall.

Two of the moons are low enough in the sky I can see them out his window. They silhouette his body when he sits up in bed.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I just… can I sleep with you?”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

“I like being close to you,” I say. It’s even almost the full truth. “I promise to keep my hands to myself.”

He hesitates for a moment, and then moves to the side nearer to me. “If you promise to sleep .”

He lifts the covers on the other side of him.

Hurrying around the bed—to the side furthest from the door—I put my glasses on the nightstand and slip under the covers beside him, and once he’s settled, I snuggle close to his side, wrapping my leg around his and telling myself I am definitely not going to start dry humping him in my dreams.

“Thank you,” I murmur when he wraps his arm around me.

He kisses my forehead and squeezes me a little tighter. I wonder if he’s thinking the same thing I am. We can pretend as much as we want when we’re alone, even if it means we’ll wreck ourselves.