Barbarian Alien(4)

But not only are we getting a cootie, we're getting a man. And we don't even get to pick the man. I'm not sure how I feel about this. So when I say that the guys are ‘conditionally nice', it's true. They're nice because they want someone to put their baby batter into.

"They're nice," I say again, a tight smile on my face. "And now I'm really tired." I ignore Kira's concerned look and this time, when someone offers me a blanket, I take it and curl up.

"What's wrong with her?" Someone asks. "She looks like hell."

I'm sick, not deaf, I think crankily. But all that talking made me tired and I decide to let Kira answer.

"She's got the sickness," Kira explains in her soft voice. "We'll all get it unless we get the symbiont."

"Is that why she's so mean?" One of them – Claire, maybe – whispers.

Am I mean? Impatient, maybe. Tired, definitely. And sick. I just huddle down in the blankets. I can't even smell the hold anymore. I can't even feel the cold. I'm just…tired. So tired.

"She's having a bad day," I hear Kira say. "Give her time."

It's true. I am having a bad day. To think that despite being kidnapped by aliens and living in a smelly, freezing, broken cargo hold for the last week wearing nothing but a short nightgown…I can have a day worse than that? Why yes, yes I can.

The reason for my bad day shows up a moment later. He saunters over to me, where I'm trying to make myself small and invisible under the furs. He ignores the frightened cries of the other women and more or less storms over to my side. Then, he rips back the furs and thrusts a cup of something steaming under my nose.

He says nothing, just waits.

"Go away," I tell him crankily, and try to tug my blankets back.

The alien won't let me have them. Instead, he pulls them further away, out of my reach. He then pushes the cup under my nose again. It's obvious that if I want my blanket back, I'm going to have to drink that cup of steaming hell he keeps putting under my nose.

He's such a dick.

I take the cup from his hand and glare at him, then try to offer it to one of the nearby girls. "Anyone thirsty?"

He grabs my hand and guides it back toward me with a small grunt, indicating that the drink is for me and only me.

"Who's that?" one of the new girls whispers in a tiny, frightened voice.

"Part of the rescue," I say drily. "The pushy, asshole part." I lift the cup to my nose and sniff it. It smells meaty and like some sort of plant. It also smells like a dirty sock. And there's something peppery in it that makes my eyes water. "I don't want this." I try to push it away. My stomach has shrunken in the last week due to starvation, and the thought of downing this makes me want to puke.

The alien's big hand pushes it back toward me. There's a scowl on his ugly face and he shifts on his feet, waiting. The message is clear: he's not going anywhere until I drink.

Goddamn it.

I take a sip of the broth and immediately start to cough. The aliens have some weird taste buds. Georgie shared some of Vektal's travel rations with us, and it was like biting into concentrated pepper spray. This smells like the sock-flavored hot tea version and tastes even worse. I grimace and push it away, only to have the alien force it toward me again.

"If I spill it, I wonder if you'll make me lick it off the floor," I mutter to myself, but take another sip. It's not as awful on the second taste….oh, who am I kidding? It's rancid. But I drink it, because Tall, Dark, and Brutish isn't leaving until I do. It takes me forever to choke down the sips, and when I get to the bottom of the cup, there's a sludge that makes me gag, but I force it down, too. Then I hand the cup back.

The alien sweeps the fur over my shoulders and tucks it close to my body. He leans in close and I hold my breath. The rest of the ship is utterly silent, and I can feel all eyes on us. He adjusts the blanket, and when I glare at him, says one word.

"Raahosh."

Then he stands, scowls at the others for staring, and storms away.

"What did he just say?" one of the girls asks.

"It doesn't translate well," Kira says, touching her ear where the translator piece is. "Something like ‘Angry one who growls'."

"It's his name," I say, though I'm guessing. ‘Growly Bastard' suits him. This isn't the first time Raahosh has shown up to say hello. I woke up from a comatose slumber to find him in my face, forcing water down my dry throat. He'd staked himself out as my own personal rescuer, showing up to hand me meat, drinks, and making sure that I am warm.

In short, he'd been hovering since the hunters had arrived, and it is pissing me off.

Normally I wouldn't mind when a guy showed up and started giving me presents, especially since I was starving. But these presents weren't freely given. Captain Obvious wanted a mate, and he'd staked me out.