AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“So, when the world learns about the splicers, people will be able to come here, see them, get to know them?”
“We thought long and hard about how to introduce them to the world without putting them on display, making them a spectacle. Eventually, our dream is for the males to walk free anywhere on Earth, visit the Louvre or the Grand Canyon if they wish. In the meantime, they’re getting socialized here and will get some on-the-job experience. People can visit, interact, and see that there’s nothing to fear.”
Although I’m not happy about being confined to this base for the next twenty months, I can’t help liking Colonel Slater. It’s obvious how much affection he has for the splicers, and how much time and effort he’s put into making their lives livable, one step at a time.
Just as I’m taking in the beauty of his plan, a lion-man barges out of the shop we’re approaching: Sugar and Splice Bakery.
Did Slater just say the words, “nothing to fear?” My heart is galloping in terror as the splicer turns our way and bares his teeth at us. No. They’re not teeth. They’re freaking fangs and they’re as long as my little finger.
Tater Tot is growling with menace, baring his teeth and pawing at the ground, standing between me and what we both perceive as a threat.
“Dog,” the splicer says amiably, standing still, assessing Tater. “The first I’ve met in person.”
“Tater!” I’ve never heard Sylas’s voice so forceful. “Down!” When the dog doesn’t immediately comply, Sylas repeats his command, slashing his arm in the visual cue even though Tater’s eyes are on the lion-like splicer.
Tater complies, lying on his belly. But he’s still snarling.
The male snaps his jaws, just once. When I gasp, he mumbles, “Just establishing dominance,” with a careless shrug.
I’m in fight-or-flight mode and would run away if Sylas wasn’t tightly gripping my hand. As I pull against his firm hold, Sylas says, “Noble, meet Calliope Quinn. She’s the newest addition to Splicer Town.”
“Nonono.” I’m not sure those words came out as words at all since they were mostly breath. My mouth is dry as a desert and I’m afraid to say anything louder than a whisper for fear of attracting more of the lion-man’s attention, although he’s looking straight at me.
“And you’ve already met Tater Tot.” To punctuate Sylas’s remark, Tater lifts his hind end off the ground as if he’s about to lunge, then thinks better of it.
“Pleased to meet you, Calliope.” I don’t know how he manages it, but he actually shows more of his fangs as he asks, “Is it your first day here?”
It takes me a moment to realize he’s speaking to me, but my mind finally puts his words into a meaningful sentence and I manage to nod my head.
“I’m… not your first splicer?” He pointedly gestures to where Sylas’s fingers are twined with mine.
“You’re her first predator,” Sylas offers, his tone good-natured. “The first one with three-inch fangs.”
It’s only when Noble laughs that I realize his predatorial display of teeth has actually been an increasingly wide and genuine smile.
“You’ll get used to us in no time.” His eyebrows flash toward his hairline as he again looks at my fingers twined in Sylas’s. “Looks like you’ve already discovered some of the joys of being with a splicer. My mate… uh, wife… uh, woman, Jenna, says cuddling with someone with fur is the only way to go.”
“You’re… mated?” I ask.
“Yeah. You’ll meet her. The love of my life.”
“You’ll meet everyone when you’re ready,” the colonel adds. “Plenty of opportunities in the dining room, or walking down Main Street of Splicer Town, er… Rattlesnake Flats.” He mumbles to himself, “I’ve got to start calling it that.” Louder, he says, “Let me finish the grand tour and then I’ll show you to your Quonset.”
Noble lets out a satisfied chuff. “You work fast, Sylas. Already assigned to a Quonset? Go you.”
That was a bit forward and I want to be offended, but how can I resent the male’s well-wishes when he’s so obviously happy for us?
As we walk, Slater offhandedly points to the storefronts that are going to be a yoga studio, a hair salon that is already doing makeovers for what Sylas calls the Lucky Twenty, and a fire-your-own pottery place that isn’t up and running yet but will be called Hybrid Hands Pottery.
As we cut between two of the storefronts, Slater points and says, “There’s a nice lake in that direction. Bigger than the swimming hole near where you’ve been staying.” Then he skirts the military area where his office is housed. The area beyond it is dotted with Quonsets slightly larger than the one we’ve been staying in.
“We considered more conventional housing, but at the rate you young people are coupling up, we decided to stick with Quonsets. They go up fast and can be tricked out inside to feel quite homey. Here we are.”
He steps to the one farthest from both Main Street and the military. He gestures and says, “It’s open. I’ll leave you here. There’s a comm right inside the doorway. If you need anything, press the button. You’ll settle in quickly.”
He turns to step away, then keeps moving to come full circle as he looks first at me and then Sylas.
“Don’t quote me, Ms. Quinn, but you’ve got shit luck. You got stuck here through no fault of your own. I hope that in time you’ll find it tolerable and perhaps find it in your heart to forgive the military for forcing you to stay.”
