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I pretend for a while longer, listening to the guards as they go about their duties. Somewhere in the distance, the buzzer that indicates a door is opening goes off, and then two new scents enter the building. One of them is familiar—a mesakkah male who's been in here plenty of times before. The other is new and beguiling.
It's a female. A female that smells different than anything I've scented before. My senses prick with curiosity. That must be the female. It's a being, but the scent is softer and more delicate than the others. It's almost…sweet.
I wonder what she'd taste like underneath my fangs. Even her blood would be sweet, I imagine. I like the thought.
I can hear voices talking as they approach, and hers is more musical and pleasing on the ear. The male with her stinks of a herbal soap that he prefers to hide his body odor, as do many of the guardsmen. To my surprise, the female has no such scent at all. It's a welcome change, because some of the guards make my eyes burn with how much they enjoy their stinky soaps. I can't wait to get a good look at her.
In fact, the curiosity burns at me so much that I feign an awakening and get on my haunches the moment they step into the room.
The female is…soft. That's my first impression of her. Soft and vulnerable. She's smaller than I thought, as she stands next to the stinking guard. The top of her head only comes to the middle of his chest. Her form is all rounded curves—fascinatingly round teats, a round backside, and soft-looking arms with small hands. She is not mesakkah, I realize. They are varying shades of blue and hers is a cross between a pale gold and light brown. Her dark mane is pulled into a tight weave against her head and her eyes are big and dark as well. Unlike the mesakkah, she has no horns, no protective plating, no nothing to give her defense of any kind.
Is this…a taunt? Are they trying to show me the most vulnerable creature in the universe as a joke?
"Is that him?" the female asks, her wide-eyed gaze resting on me. "Crulden?"
Huh. Is my name Crulden? I thought it was “Asshole.” That was all my last owner ever called me, and the males here do the same.
"That is your project assignment, yes," the male in charge says, moving toward her and the male she arrived with. The one in charge smirks, but the one at the female's side is not laughing. He looks very unhappy, and I wonder if she is his female. He does not like the thought of her being left with me.
I don't blame him. I wouldn't leave a thing that soft with me, either.
Her mouth falls open, her expression one of confusion as she studies my confinement area. "Why is he in a cage?"
The one in charge snorts. "Because he is a dangerous creature. Just a short time ago he attacked one of my guards that was attempting to feed him."
The female's brows draw together. I wait for her to show shock or terror. Instead, she focuses her little frown on the male in charge. "He's not a creature, First Rank Novis. He's a person, and if this is going to succeed, you're going to treat him like one."
That's…unexpected.
"He's being treated like an animal because he acts like one," the male—First Rank Novis—says. "He attacks anyone or anything that comes too close to his cage. He's violent and unruly. He destroys everything. Lord va'Rin wants him tamed without the use of medication since he cannot consent to it, but I'm not sure how it's possible. He's tasked my crew with it, but no one can get close enough to befriend him. He doesn't like males, and Lord va'Rin suggested a female. So now, we have you."
Novis gives her a thin smile.
"I see," the female says. The males look at her expectantly, but all she does is watch me.
I meet her gaze. She stares at me, unflinching. Of course she is unflinching—she is across the room and I am caged and cuffed. It is easy to be brave with two males and metal bars between us. I give her a toothy snarl, letting her see the blood coating my muzzle. Her scent does not spike with fear, though. "What sort of alien is he? I don't recognize it."
"He is a splice," Novis says flatly.
"What's a splice?" She looks up at him, all curiosity, and I admit, I would like to hear the answer to this, too. I have never asked what I am. I just assumed that all creatures looked different than me, but perhaps not.
"A splice is a genetically altered clone who has been crafted from multiple races, usually with the aggressive and dangerous traits enhanced. It's in an effort to create a superior gladiator that will win consistently for his owner. If not, the novelty of a splice at least provides good entertainment for those watching the matches."
