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We round the side of the dome toward the front entrance.
No, we’ll go in at the Portsmouth apartment airlock.
I nod and round the side of the building.
Mickey and Chompers are patrolling the edge of the boundary to the apartment. I can’t see Sharknado, which isn’t a good thing. Mickey is coming straight at us but at the last second turns, showing his flank.
Holy Poseidon. Castor stops.
He just wants to be scratched.
I get it, but it’s a bit intimidating.
Hopefully, whoever broke into the apartment will have the same feeling.The swim has worn the alcohol out of my system. But looking at the glow coming out of the living room clears away any leftover inhibition.
My mother seems to think it was just an unscheduled maintenance person. But we haven’t found them yet. Castor looks tired but no longer lit up.
I suppose.I scratch Mickey along his dorsal fin.Sorry, big guy, I don’t have any treats.
Castor hits the side button to open the airlock, and I have to push Mickey’s nose to keep him from coming into the airlock with us.You wouldn’t like it in here, buddy. You need to stay outside.
He tilts his head as if to say,but that’s where Belle is.And all I can do is nod and agree with the beast. I would want to be wherever she is too.
The desalination process wipes away the little buzz I had left. The solid door on the other side of the airlock is closed. When the glass door slides open, Castor puts his hand on the biometrics to open the inside door. The whirling of the fans is cycling down.
“It’s not opening,” he says.
“Let me try.” I press my hand to the wall, and the door slides open. “Nico.”
He’s standing there with his hands on his hips, a scowl deep on his face. “Holter. Castor.”
“Nico,” Castor says in the same reflective tone that Nico did.
Belle’s head pops around the edge of Nico’s arm. “Where did you go?”
“I left a note,” I tell her.
“I know, I saw it. But why did you go?”
“We’re not part of your pod,” I say.
“Your mate is here. And—” Castor shakes his head.
“My mate was here before, and you didn’t leave.”
“Belle?” I reach for her.
“Don’t you Belle me.” She points at Castor. “And you, stop with the gifts.”
“You don’t like the gifts?” asks Castor.
“I do. But they’re—”
“You’re confusing her,” Nico says.
I look between Belle and Nico to Castor. I noticed that something was off when the daily package arrived this morning, but I didn’t think she had taken offense to Castor showing affection by buying her things. That’s how Drakoses show they care. Maybe it was the evening out with Castor that had me feeling defensive of him.
But the weirdest thing was that Nico was the one the most clued in to Belle’s emotions. “Confusing Belle?” I repeat.
