Page 53 of Homebound
Rubbing her hands on her arms like she was cold rather than uncomfortable, she shuffled her feet. His closened was making her ill at ease, tight. And hot. Even in this dank wintery cell. All of a sudden, she could scarcely stand being alone with him.
He moved his hands drawing her attention to them. With six fingers, they were one of the most dramatically different parts of him. They fascinated her. Forgetting herself, she reached out and touched one of his fingers.
Something scraped against her skin.
“Your nails are growing back!” she exclaimed, taking his hand and pushing his fingers together, examining the tips. Sure enough, his nail beds were a little swollen and sharp points poked from underneath the scar tissue.
“Yes,” he said tightly.
She brought his hand up to for a better look. The emerging tips were pointy and dark.
“Why are they blue?”
“What other color would they be?”
“Oh.”
Realizing what she’d done, she dropped his hand as if burned.
While holding his hand, Gemma had discovered that his skin was velvety soft. She’d seen the patches of peach fuzz before on his body. She now knew that the fuzz was also growing back and would eventually cover his entire body, just like in the drawing in Dr. Delano’s office.
“You have a scar on your hand,” she commented to fill their silence.
He sounded perfectly civil when he answered. “A laser burn. I saw action pre-Great Invasion.”
“I heard Rix don’t participate in intergalactic conflicts.”
“Not unless directly threatened. Our home planet is rarely attacked but we are now settled in three other worlds. One of them, Zeona Atun, gets pummeled all the time. It’s a rich little place and the native people are simple. We have to push back a lot in that one area.”
“Do Rix have conflicts with the native people?”
“No, they invited us to settle there. For protection.”
“I guess it’s true then, about Rix being the guards of the Universe,” Gemma said absently. “It must be nice to be friends with Rix.”
His head whipped to her and she saw her startled expression in his double whammy of the eyes.
“Is that why you’re here? To become my friend in return for protection?” he ground out.
Nonplussed, Gemma froze, and then humiliation came, swift and hot.
“No. I’m not here to earn your protection.”
“Good. My protection cannot be earned.”
“I appreciate the clarification. I’m glad we’re on the same page.”
“No, we aren’t on the same page.”
“Don’t worry, I get it. I’m not your friend. I’m your slave. I live to wash your feet, cater to your special dietary needs, and chase away pesky Tarai with moldy ears whenever they get an urge to kill you by strangulation.”
“You’re doing right by me even though you’re human.”
Frustration didn’t cover half of what Gemma was feeling at the moment. She propped her fists on her hips.
“You know what, Simon? Next time you eatmyyogurt, I hope you choke on it to death.” Just so she could dance on his grave, bad foot and all.
“I won’t,” he promised darkly.
