Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 64359 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 322(@200wpm)___ 257(@250wpm)___ 215(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64359 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 322(@200wpm)___ 257(@250wpm)___ 215(@300wpm)
The scythkin accountant is standing in front of me, similarly finishing his beverage. I wonder if he feels the same as I do, and if there is a faint sense of melancholy in him as there is in me.
“That was very nice, thank you.” I say, polite as I can manage. “I feel as though I haven’t eaten since the diner. In fact, I’m almost sure I haven’t.”
“I will take good care of you,” he says. “I am aware of all your physical needs. I have studied your species at great length and intend to continue to do so at even greater depth.”
I don’t think he means to be threatening. Perhaps he can’t help it. Perhaps being constructed from pure menace means he can’t say anything that I will find comforting, no matter what he says.
He takes the cup from me and disappears again. I note, in a belated sort of way, the way the mug was a sort of murky green-brown glass color. Not at all appealing in any sense, but it seems to fit the general vibe. Did he have all of this constructed from historical records? Or has he been on the universe’s most intense and complete archaeological foray?
“Now,” he says as he returns. “We can talk.”
He stands in front of me with his feet shoulder-width apart. Taking the cane in one of his hands, he swings it back and forth in front of him, giving me a stern sort of human look that really doesn’t seem like anything for me to worry about.
“You’ve behaved badly,” he says. “But that’s not your fault. That is how all humans behave when left to their own devices. Scythkin understand this about humans. That’s why I intend to train you for my own, and depending on your performance, you will either remain my mate, or have your mind wiped and put into a comfortable simulation in which you will live out the rest of your days blissfully unaware of the fact that the world you live in is not real.”
“Wow,” I breathe. “I thought death was bad, but you’ve actually managed to come up with something worse than that.”
“The simulation is painless,” he says. “Unlike the punishment you have due, which will be anything but. I want you to stand up and remove your clothing.”
The more aliens are different, the more they are exactly the same. I don’t think the accountant is going to seduce me the way Raz did. He expects me to obey him. Am I going to obey him? Do I really have a choice?
“Stand up,” he prompts me again.
“Is there some other way to resolve this?”
“You have put yourself in lethal danger,” he says, his tone calm and patient, yet firm. Maybe he doesn’t look like an accountant. Maybe he looks more like a headmaster. He seems genuinely disappointed in my behavior, which makes sense. He doesn’t know me, so he doesn’t know that this behavior is actually very reasonable, all things considered.
“I’m not going to do what you’re saying. Sorry.”
He clenches his jaw, and I wonder if his face is going to come bursting out of his face.
“You need to be disciplined. I was shot because of your behavior.”
“You were shot because Sheriff shot you. He’s the one you should be taking this up with.”
He reaches down and pulls me up to my feet. I know how much strength is lurking beneath the human suit. I know what horrors and dangers have me in their grasp at this very moment. But I am looking into the mild-mannered face of a man, and my human brain just won’t acknowledge my foolishness.
“I am going to take you for my own. The others will be paid as necessary to pursue other mates. You will learn to submit to me and to my law. And you will start now.”
He waits for me to undress, but of course I can’t now. I’ve already said I wouldn’t, and doing as he says up front would really set the kind of precedent that…
His finger peels back from his suit, and a long, bladed claw emerges in its place. Wordlessly, he cuts the clothing from my body, running his finger against my skin with the most delicate of touches, so carefully that he does not so much as leave a scratch on me. It does destroy every bit of clothing I am wearing. It slides from my body and flops to the floor in a pile of fabric scraps which will require mending if I am ever to wear them again.
“I will ensure you obey me,” he says.
He turns me around and pushes me firmly down over the back of the couch. The rest of his suit stays in place, but when I glance over my shoulder, I see the flash of that single scythkin claw giving away the true nature of the beast who has me in his grasp.