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Bee's fingers dance along my cheekbone, then move along the ridge of my nose as if she's memorizing my features with her fingertips. It's a delicate touch, one that I find as confusing as I do addicting. My mind is full of swarms of memories, most of which, I'm realizing, are not mine. The old master I thought I had? That was the other Crulden, as are the fragments of screaming females, of war prizes that I treated badly. I try not to think about those moments, because I imagined Bee in them once, and it nearly made me sick.
I've been cloned from a monster. Bee should stay away from me…but I don't want her to. I want her to keep touching me, because I'm selfish and greedy.
"I think it was Riffin," Bee says softly as she runs her fingers over my thick brows. "I think it was Riffin and he's getting back at me by hurting Victor."
"As I said, I'll look into the security logs—"
Bee talks right over him again, her gentle voice full of authority. "I also think Victor will never have a chance to get better in this particular situation. He's not in a cage anymore, but your people are still treating him like an animal. He needs a different environment, and I'm going to tell Lord va'Rin that."
The stale sweat scent coats First Rank Novis, and I suspect he's imagining his job going up in flames. "Then what do you propose, female?"
I wait for Bee to chide him again for calling her that—she hates that “female” word—but she doesn't. Instead, her tone turns sweet. Managing. "I want Victor set up with a house of his own. He can be given over to my care. I'll be his companion until he's learned everything he can."
Her finger strokes the corner of my mouth, and my cock twitches to alertness.
"Absolutely not—"
"You can set sentries," Bee continues on as if Novis has no authority in this. "But they have to stay at least a hundred feet away from Victor's house at all times. He needs room to breathe. He needs to not feel like a prisoner. Because if this continues, you're going to lose him, and he's trying so very hard to be a good man."
My cock hardens even more at the affection in her voice. She thinks I am…good? Why does that please me so very much?
"You think this will work?" Novis asks.
"I think it's worth a try," Bee says. "And when Lord va'Rin asks for a status report on Victor, we'll have positive things to tell him instead of discussing how the guards are torturing him." She traces my lip briefly, then goes back to my jaw. "He needs to go somewhere he won't be bothered. So he can relax and be himself without fear of reprisal."
"And I'm supposed to send a vulnerable human female to stay with him? Everyone will think I've given you to him to ensure his good behavior. They'll think you're…" His voice drops. "…romantic."
I wait for Bee to protest or make a sound of disgust. "Victor and I are friends," she finally says. "I don't care what they think." She stretches, her lap shifting, and I suspect she's turned to look at Novis. "Do we have an agreement?"
"Do I have a choice?" He knows the human has the upper hand, and he hates it.
"One last thing," Bee says in that managing tone of hers. "Make sure you don't tell Riffin. I think Victor needs all new guards. The same ones, over and over again, so he can learn to trust them. He needs a fresh start."
First Rank Novis just sighs heavily, and I know Bee has won.
13
VICTOR
I keep expecting the cuffs and a collar—or even a cage—to come out as we're readied to leave. Plans are made as Bee speaks with Novis, and a trunk full of supplies is ordered into the nearest air-sled. Two volunteer guards are going to be sent with us, and though their scents are tinged with a hint of uncertainty, there's not overwhelming fear.
It's probably due to Bee's presence. Bee, who stands proudly at my side, holding my enormous hand in her small one. She gazes at them all fiercely, my determined protector. She hasn't left my side once. She insists on others coming in to take care of us, bringing food and water, and clutches my hand the entire time as if to reassure me of her presence.
Then Novis is finally ready, and we're escorted out of the building that's been my “home” for the last two months and into the open.
The moment we step outside, I pause, stunned at the scent of the open air. It's raining, and the constant pounding of small droplets on the building's metallic roof was something that my memories told me I knew. But coming outside and breathing in the damp air, rich with the scent of wet dirt and grass, was an entirely different experience. I stop in my tracks, tilting my face up to the sky, and the cool rain pounds on my skin, soaking me.
