Total pages in book: 175
Estimated words: 166095 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 830(@200wpm)___ 664(@250wpm)___ 554(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 166095 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 830(@200wpm)___ 664(@250wpm)___ 554(@300wpm)
Something white puffs out of the can, right in front of my nose.
“Got you now,” he whispers, even as everything around me goes black and I fall to the ground.
Fifteen
BETHIAH
Zakoar continues to argue with me. He’s a male, and therefore he thinks he’s right and I’m delusional.
“You’re absolutely delusional,” he says, arms over his metal-plated chest. “I’ve known you a long time, Bethiah, but I’m convinced you’ve lost your mind at this point. What in the kef are you thinking?”
I mimic his angry stance. “I’m thinking that hey, Dora is soft and vulnerable and alone in the universe. She needs to be able to take care of herself. She needs to have the tools to be an absolute killing machine so she doesn’t have to latch on to someone to protect her.”
“You said she was your friend, right? That you’re looking after her? Why does she need to latch on to someone else if she’s got you?” He gestures at me. “Why make the overture if you’re not prepared to commit? You know what it takes to keep a human safe around here. Why do you think turning her into something she’s not and then shoving her away from you as quickly as possible is the answer?”
I’m taken aback by his blunt question. Is that what I’m doing? Shoving Dora away as quickly as possible? Because I don’t want to bother? He’s wrong on that aspect at least. It’s not that I don’t want to bother. It’s that I get too attached, too fast. “She’s not interested in staying with me.”
Zakoar snorts. “Not if you’re trying to have pieces of her amputated, no.” He tilts his head, the metal in his neck creaking. “I’m not one to normally do this, but I’m going to give you a bit of advice that someone else once told me. If you want someone to stay, you actually have to tell them that they’re wanted.”
I flinch, because that hits far too close to home. “It’s not like that.”
“Isn’t it? I know you, Bethiah. We’ve worked together for a long time. You try to run everyone off. You think I don’t recognize the signs?”
I scowl at him. He’s wrong. I don’t try to run everyone off. I mean, it’s not my fault I’m just too much for a lot of people. That’s their problem, not mine. But this is a conversation I’ve had with Zakoar before, but usually in reverse. Before Tessa, I’d joke that he deliberately tried to scare everyone away. That the metal jaw (a choice) and the rivets and metal bracing going up his back (also a choice) are all designed to intimidate. To create avoidance. To create the illusion that the person behind them doesn’t need anyone or anything. That the heart is as hard as the outside. Wasn’t it just a short time ago that I was joking with him that he’d find some pretty little feathered slave girl and that’d be the end of it?
I was wrong. It was a human slave girl, not a feathered one. And Zakoar fell hard for her. Tried to run her off, too, but Tessa stayed, and I gave him such a hard time over things. I guess it’s my turn.
It’s not like me and Dora are a couple, anyhow. It’s not like we’re keffing.
But then I think of the sweet little fluffit and how she clings to me in bed at night. How her eyes shine when she gazes up at me. How her lips were very soft under mine when I licked her…
“You’re full of shit,” I bluster to Zakoar. I don’t like this conversation. I like it even less that it’s happening in front of the fluffit. “I’m not running anyone off. If anything, I’ve been an absolute bastion of hospitality. Tell him, Dora.”
Silence.
I stare at Zakoar. Zakoar stares back at me, challenging.
Damn it, fluffit. I turn to glare at Dora, who’s choosing the worst time to be silent. She must be hiding behind one of the clutter-covered shelves in the shop, so I crane my head, trying to see around the closest one. “Could really use your help here, fluffit.”
No answer.
Frowning, I stalk across the store, glancing down each aisle. No yellow hair.
No Dora.
The store is empty. Sometime during the argument with Zakoar, Dora decided she’d had enough of me and left. My chest immediately feels tight, and there’s a low, lingering ache behind my ribs that speaks of remembered betrayal.
Well. It sure didn’t take her keffing long to get sick of me.
Not that I’m going to show that I’m hurt. I toss my head at Zakoar. “See? I don’t have to run them off. They do that on their own.”
“She’s gone?” He sounds surprised, and even looks down the aisles himself. “This isn’t a prank you’re pulling?”
I put a hand to my chest in mock offense. “How dare you. As if I would prank you.” When he glares at me, I sniff and continue. “It’s true. You have zero sense of humor. As for the human…” I shrug. “If she doesn’t want to be around me, I’m not going to force her.”