Page 5 of The Monster's Mate

“What?” I blink my eyes when I realize how wide they’re stretched. “I haven’t heard anything. I haven’t been out much since I left the home.”

“It’s absolutely crazy. The Britonians match two people and then you leave for your mating for six months. After that, you’re returned here to decide without influence if you want to stay or go back. People at the commune say no God-fearing woman in her right mind would bear their babies. But the women who have gotten pregnant? They choose to stay. And the leader of the Britonians?” she leans in, like this is just gossip. “He says there’s no limit to how many babies we can have.”

“That can’t be,” I gasp. “Why aren’t we having babies with our own men?”

“That’s the thing no one wants to say out loud,” she says. “But obviously it’s ourmenthat can’t produce.”

Apparently, my father is a fluke.

“Would you go?” I ask.

She shakes her head. “I’m here to find my daughter. Besides which, I wouldn’t qualify for the program. I’ve already been married and while they might open up that option in a couple years, right now it disqualifies me. But no matter, I’m focused on finding her.”

Chapter Two

Five Earth years later:

The first thing I notice when my house comes into view is the tiny blue vase in the deliberately closed blinds of the window.

It’s a sign.

It’s the signal Isabel and I conjured up to notify each other of when we were home so neither of us jumpy women would be surprised that the other was there. But this last year, I’ve been living alone without her. For the first time in my life. The closest I’ve ever come to it was the two years in my aunt’s basement… but I wasn’t really alone. I had Sam, who’d hung out with me often. And then I moved in with Isabel and we were two broken strangers who’d slowly gotten to know each other.

But Isabel finally found her daughter, River, who lived in the commune. She’s been punished by the man who found her—and named her after the river that ran through his property—for humiliating him.

She’d refused to marry the prophet, who had to be seventy-five by now. Apparently, her father had promised her to him.

She was whipped within an inch of her life and rescued by the Britonians and the new aliens from the planet Pimeon. The ones who were in the Match Program. The leader asked her if she’d rather enter the program and she said yes. When she came home six months later to make her decision, Isabel snuck into the commune to see her. She’d been invited to go stay with her daughter. While on that planet, like all the other women, River returned to Earth to make her decision. She chose to go back, but remained here for one night. Isabel found a way to introduce herself, and both of them wanted to get to know each other. A new option was introduced to the program—women were allowed to take a close family member, so Isabel was offered a chance to go with her.

My stomach had dropped when I found out.

I had no idea how long she’d be gone, or if she’d ever come back. I had no one I could ask.

She came home briefly, rattling her keys outside the door and making a ton of noise to let me know she was with someone, and so I hid while she grabbed a bag and wrote a note. And from the note, someone had been standing with her when she quickly penned it because she couldn’t say anything personal, but left me account numbers.

My heart lifts at the sight of that little vase. I didn’t realize how much I would miss her, but I really have. She’s so sweet to have around, but she’s been gone for so many months now. Nearly a year.

I fling open the front door. “Is?”

The smile freezes on my face. It’s not just Isabel sitting in the living room. There’s another woman with dark hair—she must be River—and one ofthem.

The tentacled aliens.

“Luce!” Isabel jumps up from the sofa and throws her arms around me, giving me a big hug, then pulls me forward. “This is River,” she says. “And Sheesla.”

“You can call meMaman. All my girls do,” the woman says, not bothering to get up from the couch. Her tentacles are splayed around her like she’s a queen.

Her girls? Does that mean what I think? She looks a bit like the proprietor of a house of ill repute. She wears diamonds on every finger and her ruffled silk blouse plunges so low in front it’s practically only fastened at her belly button, which is adorned with a black diamond. Her nails are long and painted wine-red, of all colors.

Isabel giggles. “She’s our mother figure. You need one?”

“Of course, she does,” this person—Maman—snaps in a strange accent. “I just told you she’s one of my girls.”

River widens her eyes and giggles, which sets off Isabel too, but I’m too flustered to laugh.

“You-you’re not home to stay?” I ask Isabel.

“No, honey, we’re just visiting.”

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