Page 74 of Alien Jeopardy

“Just Ken,” he tells Rex, sounding annoyed.

“Are you a hologram?” I ask, fascinated.

“He’s Just Ken No Privates,” Rex tells me.

Ken ignores that. I bite my cheeks to keep from laughing out loud.

That’s probably not the ideal response with him standing right there. Er. Projected right there.

Whatever.

“Contestants, tonight your luxury reward challenge is a puzzle. If you finish the puzzle within the time constraints, you receive both a meal and a luxury shelter for the night.”

“And if we don’t finish it in time?” I ask.

Just Ken No Privates ignores that, too.

A grinding sound begins near the fire, and Rex takes several big steps back as the ground parts, a table of rock rising out of nothing. Pain streaks across my palm, and I loosen my too-tighthold on the tablet when I realize I have the darn thing in a total death grip.

“You have one hour to complete the puzzle. Good luck.”

“Wait, you said we’d get a reward for, er, consummating—” the word sticks in my throat, but I push it out anyway, “the mate bond.”

“Your reward is a slightly easier puzzle, in line with your lack of mental acuity.”

I wince. “Ouch.”

With that, the green hologram fizzles out, leaving us alone.

Though we’re not, not really. Ken is watching. Good ole AI Big Brother. Oh, and whoever else is watching the show, too. We are far from alone, and I should remember that. I swallow hard, my jaw tight.

A chime comes from the table, and Rex slowly puts me back on my feet. He takes my hand, then presses a kiss against my knuckles, almost mindlessly, as we both approach the new stone dais.

The sweet gesture eases my nerves slightly, and I feel better.

Until I see the puzzle.

There’s no way we’re getting that luxury reward.

CHAPTER

THIRTY-FOUR

Ka-Rexsh

Ellison is mumbling about poop and building blocks under her breath, according to the words my translator is supplying.

“Shit… bricks?” I repeat, thoroughly amused. Ellison is more than I bargained for—pretty, smart, brave, and endlessly entertaining, especially when she’s grumpy like right now.

“Exactly.” She nods furiously. “Shit bricks.”

“I do not think bricks made of shit would help us right now,” I tell her delicately, trying not to laugh at her.

She rakes a hand through her hair, which make it even more tangled and poufy than it was. Adorable.

“I just, I thought it was going to be a puzzle, you know? Like, a jigsaw puzzle. We could have a cozy night, put together the jigsaw puzzle, make a picture, and go to sleep.” She waves a hand at the puzzle in front of us, irritated. “This isn’t a jigsaw puzzle.”

“A jigsaw puzzle? You humans make puzzles out of construction equipment? Do you actually use said shit bricks?”