Page 72 of Homebound
“I’ve started eating the disgusting prison mush.”
Gemma gaped at him. “How? The last time you tried, we had to mop it from the floor.”
His upper lip did that ugly sneering thing again, reminding Gemma that different species didn’t show mirth in the same way.
“I am better now. I can keep that slush down.”
“But is it enough?”
“It’s enough. I don’t need a lot of food. It hurts digesting it but nothing I can’t handle.” He pegged her with his eyes. “It gives me energy. We can’t afford to have me weak, too.”
Weak, too.She wanted to make a face at him but today, of all days, he wasn’t far off base. Tired, she sat down on the cold ground.
He gave her a skipping glance. “What’s wrong with you?”
“I love the way you pose your questions. So suave. I’ve been sick. I’m better now, just some aftereffects. Mind if I rest?”
“Take the chair. You are probably cold, too. You’re always cold.” Was it her imagination or did she hear a derogatory note in this statement?
Deciding that the chair beat the icy ground any day, she took him up on his offer curling in the wide sagging seat and tucking her feet under her.
“Let me know if you get tired and want to sit down. Aren’t you cold? Your clothes are even thinner than mine.”
“This isn’t cold for Rix.”
Alrighty then.
“What did you mean about your pupils and getting angry?”
He hesitated before answering as if weighing the wisdom of talking to her about something so personal.
“My eyes change depth when all four hearts are beating.”
Four hearts.
It slammed into Gemma. Dr. Delano. The drawing in his office. She had to tell Simon.
For the moment, she kept it cool. “Why do you have four hearts?”
“Why do you have one?” he countered. “You humans have one pupil per eye, one heart, only five fingers, blunt teeth, have to eat your weight in food every day. Your species’ survival puzzles me. You should have died out a long time ago.”
Gemma laughed. “We’re well adapted to this planet, believe me. So your four hearts beat at the same time?”
Again, that hesitation on his part. “No. Only one beats when I’m at rest. Two are for everyday things, the most common. Three is when you recuperate after injury or play sports, or are… over-excited. All four are for battle mode. Survival. Extreme agitation.”
This conversation was the most bizarre to have with a male. Where was Zeke, normal, human, predictable Zeke when she needed him? Instead, she was gazing adoringly at a guy who had four hearts.
He started pacing. Slowly, keeping near the wall in case he needed to catch himself, but pacing nonetheless. Back and forth. Back and forth. He did look stronger. He had gained weight. He could walk.
A lock of loose hair got into his face and he impatiently flicked it back catching the collar of his crude shirt in the act and revealing a portion of his tattoos.
“Do the signs on your neck mean anything?”
“Yes.”
“Will you tell to me what they mean?”
He touched one finger to the center of the base of his neck where the central sign shifted as if alive with the beat of his pulse.
