humans, and they aren’t popular for their conversational skills, if you follow me.”
2
KIM
Now I really am blushing. “I know. It’s just that…that doesn’t apply to me.”
“Why doesn’t it?”
“I’m older.”
She eyes me. “How much older?”
“Most of the girls that have been taken are in their early twenties. I just turned thirty-six.”
“You look the same.”
“Well aren’t you sweet.” I chuckle, preening a little at that comment. While it’s true that I do look young for my age, any medical scan will quickly show the truth of the matter. “It’s not that old. It’s just that when someone hears my age, they immediately want to do a fertility scan, and according to your scanners, thirty-six is considered ‘geriatric’ for a human slave. Ex-slave,” I correct quickly. It still feels weird to be considered “freed” even after all this time. “I’m still of a child-bearing age but all the other women here are much younger and they have better land, so I get passed over quite a bit.”
“Better…land,” Bethiah echoes, curious.
“Yes. We were all granted land by Lord va’Rin. It was assigned via pools and it seems that my particular plot is very arid and rocky compared to the fertile fields of my neighbors.” I’m not bitter about it. I like my particular plot, high up on a hill, because I can see for miles and miles around. I love the flowers I grow, their bright pink and yellow blooms that look so cheery…even if they’re problematic. I grimace. “Unfortunately it’s only good for a certain type of crop.”
“Dare I ask?”
“Just a particular herb,” I say, waving a hand as the surly waiter comes by and drops another basket of fried leaves on our table. “Nothing that makes a lot of money.” My cute, cheery little flowers are the alien equivalent of catnip for a race called praxiians, and it’s apparently some sort of sex drug. The moment I found that out, I was rather horrified. The only thing I can sell is a Spanish fly equivalent that works best on the fearsome, catlike praxiians?
It’s definitely a pickle.
It’s also been part of the problems I’m having. One of my neighbors is praxiian, and he’s a rather terrifying sort. Most praxiians are large, but this one is particularly huge. He snarls and hisses every time I see him. I’ve caught him lurking on my land, as if assessing it for his own acquirement. It makes me nervous, because I’ve heard horror stories of the aggressive praxiians attacking human females. I’ve also heard of women turning up dead, their lands stolen by neighbors. I’m pretty sure he’s threatening me, because I’ve found a dead animal on my doorstep more than once, the throat ripped out.
And last week? I came home to find that the praxiian had been to my house and, ahem, jerked off all over my door.
That was when I knew it was time for action. If I’m going to be safe, I need to get married—or mated, though the term is interchangeable to these aliens - and secure myself a husband. If it looks like I have a male protector and I’m married, no one can kill me to try and steal my land. It would be better if I got pregnant to ensure things, but I’ve had enough alien sex to know that I vastly prefer the thought of a platonic marriage.
“I need a marriage in name only,” I tell Bethiah. “I truly don’t care what my man looks like or how old he is, as long as he’s kind and strong and can help me protect my place in this world.”
The bounty hunter nods slowly. “I think I get it. So I find a likely candidate for you…and then what? Drug him and kidnap him? How do you envision this playing out?” Her eyes light up. “Do you care if I maim him a little?”
I’m slightly terrified by the excitement that flashes in her eyes. “Well I can’t imagine that any man will look kindly upon me if you maim him right before I marry him.”
“But you’re kidnapping him and forcing him to marry you. Why does it matter if he’s roughed up a little?”
She’s got a point. Even so, I’m not sure I like the thought. “That’s why he needs to be nice. If he’s nice, eventually he’ll understand that I did what I did out of desperation. Then maybe we’ll settle in and become friends.”
“Friends,” Bethiah echoes. The bounty hunter leans in. “You do realize this is the dumbest keffing