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16
VICTOR
Bee thinks for a long moment. "So back home, I was a…" She pauses. "Well, I don't suppose it matters, but I was a project manager at a website designing firm. It wasn't what I wanted to do, but a bachelor's degree will only get you so far. Anyhow. I was working late one night in the office by myself. I had an overseas client that wanted to do a conference call, and so it was very late my time and early theirs. I'd done it before and didn't think anything of it. I guess it was around midnight when all the power in the building died, and when I went to the office window to see if there was a storm, I saw a flash of light and then the next thing I knew, I woke up…in space."
She swallows hard, loud enough that I can hear it, and her scent turns sour.
"Apparently," Bee continues, "humans are a hot commodity. I woke up and someone cuffed my hands and dragged me onto a stage at a slave auction. The man—alien, I guess—that bought me was older. He was very…unpleasant. He didn't care if I liked him touching me or not, and I didn't. Looking back, I kind of think that he deliberately bought someone that wouldn't like his touch because he got off on that." She swallows hard. "I think he had a wife back on Homeworld, because he kept me at his vacation house. At first I thought that was such a relief, because he would leave for long periods of time and I wouldn't have to endure him…but then his son started showing up. I guess he got Dad's permission to play with the toys."
There is a metallic tang to her scent now, and she is sweating. The memories are difficult for her. When she speaks, she hesitates repeatedly, as if she's having to force the words out. I think of pleasant, happy Bee, being hurt by these strangers, and it makes me want to destroy everything in reach.
Everything but her.
My grip on her must be tight, because she moves a little closer to me, as if trying to get away from it. When she sighs and presses her cheek against my chest, relaxing, I realize that I am wrong—she is seeking comfort from me. "That went on for five years," Bee says softly. "And I hated every day of it. I hated what they did to me, and I hated that they liked it when I cried. I hated that I was so powerless. I ran away once, to his neighbor, and asked for help. I begged him to help me find a safe place for humans, but instead, he just called my owner and demanded that he come get me."
"Are they still alive?" I growl. "Because I want to destroy all of them."
"Don't know, don't care," Bee says, and pats my chest with one of her small hands. "About a year and a half ago, the son abruptly gathered up all of my things and shoved me onto a spaceship. Didn't tell me what was going on, but I wonder if his mother found out about her husband's hideaway. Or maybe the neighbor complained. Either way, they got rid of me, and when I got onto the spaceship and saw all the human women there, I thought I was going to be sold again. That my nightmare was starting over. Instead…it brought me here. And I was safe."
I squeeze her arm, and then I remember her bruises, and my temper flares all over again. "Not safe enough. Your skin is marked up."
"That's a recent development," Bee says, and her sigh is tired. "And it's partially my fault. I've never been attracted to Riffin. Actually I don't think I could ever be attracted to any of the mesakkah, not after what I went through. I'm sure there are some nice ones out there, but they just don't do anything for me. But this place…Lord va'Rin is trying to set it up as a haven for humans, but…sometimes we're just not safe no matter what. I think of it like a henhouse. Everyone is safe and happy until a fox sneaks in, and then no one's safe. I realize that doesn't mean anything to you." She pats my chest again. "But it's a perfect analogy for me. Sometimes a bad guy sneaks under the radar and then the humans aren't safe. So a lot of women have been marrying aliens to get a protector. I encouraged Riffin because I felt like I could control our relationship, and maybe with time, I could get used to the idea of him touching me. In a way, it was safe because it kept other men from approaching me."
"But he hurt you. And he made you kiss him and you did not want to."
