Page 4

The last few hours have been a blur of medical exams and freaky, hormonal naps. The doctor assured me it was totally normal to have a wet dream in a room with twenty other girls and a bunch of nurses because it was induced to determine my armband color.

Finally dressed in my race uniform, a form-fit zip-up blue body suit with an Abr logo over my left breast, I make my way to the lunch hall. There are all kinds of women among us. A group of three with matching platinum earrings and glittering makeup links arms and runs in place while they scream in excitement. They’re a mix of pink and yellow armbands. Beyond them, in a booth against the back wall, sit two women with blue armbands, quietly conversing and watching everyone else. Many have friends. A few make some. All I want is food.

The sheer size of the buffet makes me want to cry. I load up a plate and find a window seat overlooking the race fields.

I try to savor the pastries and sandwiches as much as the fresh fruit, but it’s hard to eat when I’m unexpectedly full of regret. It was a surprise to see Elix and even more of a shock at how tender he was as he healed me. I can’t help but wonder if I’ve made a mistake coming here when it seems he cares more than I’d thought possible with all the years and solar systems between us.

Women chat in small groups around my table, but no one joins me. No one even looks at me.

Maybe, I’m finally invisible. So many times I’d have given anything to disappear. Everywhere I go, my father’s reputation follows. He put a shackle on me so I couldn’t run until months of pounding on it made it finally break.

I smooth the wrinkles from the ticket my mother gave me. They wouldn’t let me trade it, even when I asked out of curiosity.

The race must start with one more female than the number of males. Whatever.

I think it’s a bullshit rule when there are Ginarigons in the mix. They have wandering eyes. I bet by the end, the numbers will be skewed anyway.

The Abr nurses assured me no one could come barging in and take me away. But I’ve inspected their security system and found several weaknesses already.

I’m overthinking this. It has to be safe, or Mom wouldn’t have signed me up.

The chocolate-covered strawberries go down easiest. After months of freeze-dried cakes and packaged foods, it’s like it’s the first time I’ve ever tried one.

I can’t believe Elix found me, and he stepped in and stopped Lingon . He risked his life for me.

The herbal taste of the gel he put on my lip lingers behind the strawberry and chocolate layers. My lip is almost completely healed. But now my heart is even less into the game.

I can’t get over how his chest stretched his leather jacket, the ungodly amounts of tactical gear strapped to his body like he was leaving Catalyst Five and heading straight into battle, or the cold seriousness in his eyes. My gut tells me he isn’t just a security guard but a trained killer.

I look down at my healed knuckles and remember the way his gold eyes dilated when his finger touched my lip.

I don’t know much about Lazariots other than their affinity for tech and their unusual survival skills. Their home solar system is basically a frozen wasteland of planets after the Nebs wrecked them, like so many others. It makes me wonder how that happened when Elix’s kind are—or were—so talented.

“Red, huh?”

I look up at a woman in an Abr uniform standing before me with a tablet in hand.

“Armbands.” She points with her stylus. “So you’re an independent contractor, likely hoping to find someone to team up with but will still let you be the boss of your world.”

“Sounds about right.”

Her gold badge gleams under the bright lights. “I’m Ohni.”

“Zariah.”

“I make it my mission to find the few of you sitting alone and check on you. I know this race can be a life-changing experience, feel a bit chaotic, and maybe isn’t quite what you were expecting.”

“Do reds usually get paired up?” I ask.

“Now and then.” Ohni tucks a strand of her hair behind an ear. “You’ll get matched with someone during the race this afternoon. You don’t have to stay with them.

“You can mingle with others, hang out with girls, or just go to your room. You can also walk the race grounds when there aren’t events. But we highly encourage you to socialize with males. It is called the Alien Bride Race.”

“Right.”

“Want to talk about something else?” Ohni slides into the seat across from me. “Okay, I want your thoughts. We’re considering adding a pool, but the trouble is the Vinym, and a few other species, have oils that coat their skin.” She waves a hand nonchalantly and scans the room filled with chatting women. “Anyway. Figuring out the right chemical process to maintain sanitation has not been easy.”

“Maybe dunk them in a soak tank first to remove as much as possible, then give them a time limit,” I suggest.

Ohni smiles at me. “Interesting idea. I’d thought of maybe requiring a coating, like a varnish. But that sounds harsh.”

“Then you’d have extra residue to deal with. Maybe have a few smaller pools so you can condition them differently?”

“Smart.” Ohni loops a strand of brown hair behind her ear. “Now, why don’t you tell me why you don’t look thrilled to be here?”

“This was my mother’s last gift. I’m not interested in mating. Didn’t want to waste it. Can’t give it back.”

Ohni studies me for a moment. Her eyes shimmer with sadness. She looks away. “Lost my own mother recently. So I understand. She gave everything to give us a good life, and it still wasn’t much. But that’s why we have these games. These males have all been vetted to be sure they have supplies and funds, capable health, and desire to give women better lives.”

“Yeah.”

“Ah.” Ohni gets up.

“What?” I squint up at her.

She gives me a crooked smile and plants a fist on her hip. “Maybe he needs to know how you feel.”

I gape at her, wondering what gave her the impression I had someone else.

“Enjoy your vacation. Holler if you have questions.” Ohni winks and walks off to talk to another racer in a pink band who bounces on her toes like she’s full of sugar and ready to run.

The wet dream they gave me in the medbay comes back to mind.

It was just a dream. I didn’t have control. But the single male that protected me from gunfire was green.

Retterwan? Vinym?

I bury my face in my hands. Lazariot.

The dream eases into my thoughts as I try to deny the possibility. He had spun his back to mine as we fired into darkness at enemies that moved like shadows. It was then that a voice above me had called out for a red band. But I can’t remember his face. And most of my dreams feature recent events, not my secret wants and desires like they seem to think.

Can they see it? They must be able to. But there’s no way for them to know it was Elix if I don’t even know. I’m certain I’m just blending memories with whatever freaky shit was in the sleep meds.

“Kita!” Ohni calls over the radio. “Why aren’t the TVs on in here?”

The TVs around the room blink on, displaying another racer laughing and nodding at the camera. And then, to my horror, I see my ugly mug appear, sitting on a medic’s bed just after my hormonal nap.

“Ah, jeez,” I mutter, peeking through my fingers.

“Zariah Landing of—space? Interesting. Just space, huh?” A nurse asks.

“That’s where I live. On my ship.” I watch myself reply and am glad I didn’t mention it’s a shitty old StarBuster I named Tempest.

Should’ve named her Temperamental.

“Okay, well, this should be easy for you. If you could sleep anywhere on Pearl of Sol, the galaxy’s famed cruise ship, where would you sleep?”

“Captain’s seat.”

I sip coffee from my mug, listening to the other girls cheer and whoop behind the doctor like it was some sort of big deal to say such a thing.

The women in the lunch hall cover their mouths, stifling shocked laughter. A racer with black bands around her arms offers me a high-five. “Nice one. You got balls, girl.”

I oblige. “Have my own ship. She’s a clunker, but it’d sure be cool to pilot a beauty like that.”

“We all have dreams,” the blonde says.

“For the second question,” the doctor continues. “If someone steals from you, what do you do? Do you report it or do you let it go?”

I watch myself respond, cringing at the reaction of those in the room and hating the question because it feels like I was profiled and targeted.

“Depends on who steals what and why,” my TV self says.

“Explain.”

“If a selfish jerk takes all my stuff, I’ll report it. If someone steals my food because they’re dying of starvation, I won’t. Unlike certain people in my family, I believe in earning my way, protecting the innocent, and disciplining the derelicts. But I don’t care about stuff . Hurt someone I care about, hurt someone innocent, and I will —”

The feed cuts to the next girl.

“Ooh,” the woman beside me sings out. “Girl! What’d you say?”

I lick my healing lip and shake my head. “You don’t want to know.”

“Hell, yes, I do!” The blonde faces me, bright blue eyes eager for an answer.

I shift as the form-fitting Abr race suit rubs over my back, over the scar that my brother put below my right shoulder blade. “Cut out their heart with the crudest knife I can find. Since they don’t have a heart, they don’t need the muscle in their chest, and it should go to someone who will use it better.”

“I like you. I know you’re independent. I am, too. Not as aggressive, but I did knock out a few teeth on my way here.” The woman shifts closer with a mischievous grin. “I’m Teol, like creol, the seasoning, with a lot more kick . And I’m still dreaming of flying a clunker.”

I chuckle, and it feels good. It’s been too long and feels strange. But I introduce myself and shake her hand.

“What’d the guy do?” I ask, motioning to the seat across from me.

She waggles her head, sits, and spins a fork on the table. “Dude got a little too handsy with a girl at the port. Came in early this morning. He missed his flight. Orange guy. Ginarigon I guess.”

I nod. “They are into sister wives, like to mate a lot. But that also makes them self-conscious about their malehood and hormonal. They need to get it out of their systems, so delays in mating are frustrating.”

“Noted.” Teol drums a finger on the table. “I think this is going to be a fun race now that I’ve met you.”

“We’ll see about that.”

“Just tap me in if you need assistance. I’m an MAMA instructor. Just got out of a stint with Cylene and the Nytheralinas.”

“MAMA?” I ask.

“Mixed Alien Martial Arts.” Teol grins. “I’d be happy to give you some free lessons while we’re here.”

“Aren’t you going to be busy? ” I ask.

“Maybe. Won’t know until an hour from now.” Teol lights up her wristband and pulls up a video, then rotates it so it’s upright for me.

It’s hard to keep up with all of her moves as she fights a woman she calls Cylene on the screen. Both are extremely fast, agile, and powerful.

“You’re a badass,” I mutter. “Why are you here?”

She puffs out a breath. “Not getting any younger. Besides, after seeing Cylene and her children, I realized I wanted a piece of that alien pie for myself. Not hers, of course, but my own. I’m thinking shadow warrior, something dark and brooding, snarky, and a bit of a hard case.”

“Sounds like trouble to me,” I admit.

Teol looks out the window at the arena. “Could be, but sometimes, those have the best hearts, once you break the walls around it.

“Anyway, you wanna kick this joint, do some training before the race outside?” she glances around. “I’m a bit suffocated by all the giggles and pinks in here.”

“Sure. I’m not trained, but I’m scrappy.”

Teol gets up. “Like to live life on the edge?”

Of space? She has no idea. “Anything to get my mind off of being carried off by a strange alien.”

Teol offers me a fist. “I’ll watch your back if you watch mine. Cool?”

I bump her fist, feeling better about the race. “Go easy on me. I’m usually on my own.”

Teol nudges my shoulder with hers. “Not anymore.”