“You’re not watching.”Jasmyn pouted, and he did his best to look contrite as he set his now empty plate on the coffee table and tucked his phone into his pocket. Then he opened his arms in invitation, and she happily snuggled deeper into him.
“Love you,” Dex whispered into the fur between her ears, and her head lifted, brows furrowed in question.
Instead of answering with signs, he simply dragged a knuckle down the side of her throat, scent-marking her. Beaming at him, she rubbed her scent into his neck with her own knuckles, and he growled in approval. She growled back, then faced the TV again and rested her head on his chest.
Tightening his arms around her, he buried his face between her ears and kissed her. To some people, cuddling with a sibling this way might have been strange, but in most Mammylion circles, it was normal because it strengthened the pack bonds.
Pack mentality wasn’t necessary anymore, not in this day and age, but Dex thought it was still important. His mom and his sister, they were his family, his pack. It was small, and sometimes, it felt a little broken, but they were still a pack.
And pack took care of each other.
Chapter four
Mammylion Pep Buds
Dex
CyawasavoidingDex.At least, he was pretty sure they were. They had canceled the Tuesday tutoring session, claiming they had to go to the dentist. He didn’t think dentists were open that late into the evening, but he figured rich people had all sorts of professionals on retainer to help them at a moment’s notice. Maybe every wealthy person had a personal dentist; for all he knew, they probably even did house calls.
On Thursday after class, Cya had slipped into the girls bathroom without a word, so, like a gentleman, Dex had waited outside the front entrance of the STEM building for them. For nearly twenty minutes. Genuinely concerned for their health, he’d gone back inside, awkwardly poked his head into the bathroom—eyes firmly closed, of course—and called Cya’s name.
“Cya, are you good in there? Do I need to call your doctor-on-retainer for shit emergencies such as this?”
“Oh my gods, get out of the girls bathroom, you creep before I call security!” someone shrieked.
He’d quickly ducked out of the bathroom and power-walked away, growling, “I’m not a creep; My eyes were closed!” over his shoulder. After another ten minutes of calling Cya’s phone and receiving no answer, he’d gone home, confused and a little annoyed.
That next Monday, Dex loaded up his gym bag for dyscus practice and his backpack for class, then he rode the tram with his sister and dropped her at school before heading to the train station. He got to Purgatory later than planned and jogged across the teal sand of the desert to the small, yellow-bricked building with the red metal roof.
He didn’t want to be late on his first day; he’d get fired before he even had a chance to make a good impression. So he ran past the sign staked into the sand outside the entrance to The Passing Through Cafe that read,“Watch out for ninja stars,”and burst through the purple front doors.
“I’m here!” he shouted, making every person in the cafe freeze and turn toward him. “I made it. My train was late, but I made it. I’m here. Dex is here!”
“Clearly,” the red-and-gray Araknis behind the register said, blinking eight eyes at him.
Panting, Dex dropped his gym bag and backpack to the floor and propped his fists on his hips. “Whew, those bags are heavy when you’re trying to run. Good thing I never skip leg day. Leg day high-five!” He offered his hand to an Ursydae in a business suit beside him, and, bewildered, she copied him, palm up. He high-fived her exuberantly. “Boom!”
Behind the espresso machine, Cya grimaced and made a noise of disgust. The Araknis blinked in a wave from left to right. A pink Pyclon—who had just walked through the swinging kitchen doors—shook his head with a husky, “Yeah, no,” and immediately turned around, disappearing back into the kitchen.
Dex gestured at his bags. “Where can I put these?”
“Um, Quin’s office, I guess? Last door at the end of the hall,” the Araknis said, pointing a top left hand toward the hallway to Dex’s right.
“Right on. Thanks.”
Hoisting his bags off the floor, Dex bustled down the hall, past the bathroom and supply closet Glyma had shown him during his tour two weeks ago. He knocked on the door at the end of the hallway, and a crisp voice carrying a Greed accent replied a moment later.
“Come in.”
Inside the office, a Daemon with brick-red skin, black locs, and curling black horns above her ears sat behind a dark wood desk. She was typing on a laptop, but her red eyes surrounded by black sclera were locked on him. Quin sent him a small smile that did very little to soften her fierce face.
“Good morning, Dex.”
Beside her, sitting in one of the chairs from the dining area, was a human man with blond hair, big brown eyes, and freckles smattering his nose and cheekbones. He looked up from the ledger he was writing in and offered Dex an easy grin.
“Hey, man. I think I missed you when you came in for your interview. I’m Oliver.” He stood up and rounded the desk, offering his hand for Dex to shake. Before Dex could, a furious screech sounded behind him, and the human yelped in fright and stumbled back several steps. “Fuck off, Bob! I’m nowhere near your nest. Speciesist little monster.”
Dex turned and cocked his head at the burnt orange… thing huddled in the corner of Quin’s office. It had a hard exoskeleton and many barbed legs. Two antennas on its head swiveled this way, then that, as it scuttled backward until its back half was covered by the dingy blanket it nested in. Surrounded by shiny objects, balls of tin foil, and other various garbage, it released a series of territorial clicks and hisses, clearly aimed at Oliver.
