She finishes up and washes her hands in the sink, then splashes water on her face. After that, she picks through the thick, absorbent plas-hand-towels, finding just the right one before she uses it to dry her hands. When I continue to hover a few steps behind her, she scoops up the blanket, tosses it around her shoulders as if she's a queen instead of my prisoner, and saunters back into my chambers like they belong to her.
Amused, I follow behind her. I'm tense, waiting at every moment to see if she's going to bolt, but she only returns to the bed and eyes the cuffs with distaste. "Will you believe me if I say I won't run away?"
"Yes. After all, there's nowhere for you to go," I point out. "But that doesn't mean you won't try to stab me, or garrote me, or any number of other unpleasant things. So back into the cuffs you go."
"I suppose that's fair." She holds her delicate wrist up, waiting on me, and she sighs when I clasp the cuff back around it. "Can I ask you something?"
Here we go. Here's where she bargains with me. I knew this was coming. "I'm not interested in you trading your body for freedom, so don't even ask."
Ruth stares at me, her lip curling. "I wasn't offering. I was going to ask you why it's such a big deal if the a'ani fall in love."
Oh. That…doesn't match what I thought she would be asking about. I put my hands on my hips, pacing beside the bed as I consider. Is that why she's on this ship? She's in love with one of the a'ani? Or him with her? Suddenly it makes sense. "It's not a big deal. What gave you that impression?"
She shrugs, adjusting the cuff and then settling the blanket over her body again. "Is it because they're slaves, like me?"
"They're not slaves." I practically spit the word at her, offended. "I don't know what made you think I'm keen on enslaving people, but I purchased my men and freed them. The ones that remain here as my crew are here because they wish to be. Because I pay them well. Not because they are enslaved."
Ruth considers this, her brows furrowing. "So why is falling in love bad, then?"
"It's not. Whatever gave you that idea?" Why is she so fixated on love, of all things?
"Nothing. No one. Just curious. Forget I asked." She lifts one shoulder, shrugging.
There has to be a reason behind all this questioning. "If one of my men wished to leave because he fell in love with someone, I'd let him. They're not imprisoned. I like to think they stay out of loyalty." Though now I'm starting to question that, much like everything else in my world. "They are clones of one another, but don't let that fool you—they have minds of their own, and they're just as sharp as anyone else." I pause, considering. "Is one of the a'ani in love with you?"
"Fuck, I hope not." She makes a face. "I'm rather sick of aliens."
I bark out a laugh. "You think we're the aliens?"
"Aren't you?" She gives me a challenging look…and then we both start laughing. Ludicrous that in her eyes I'm the alien, when she's so strange-looking. If she wasn't such a murderous beast, it'd be downright charming to hear. As it is, it's just hilarious.
17
RUTH
Well, now I know why Dopekh's so upset and full of self-loathing. He's in love with a clone. A carbon copy of himself but with a different mind. Holy shit. I have no idea the implications of that sort of thing. Is it like…incest? Does it count if everyone's born in the same “batch” in a lab somewhere? I have so many questions.
"Me, the alien," Straik chuckles, amused. A smile creases his face and for a pain in my ass, he's got a good smile at least.
Not that I care about his smile. I'm sure lots of evil bastards have good smiles. I adjust my hands, trying to get comfortable around the stupid cuff. "Do you really think chaining me up is necessary?"
His smile turns a little harder. "Let's see. In the space of a few minutes, you stabbed me and head-butted me. I have no doubt that if I let you go, you'd hide in my ship again, turn my crew against me, and probably try to murder me in my sleep. So yes, I do think it's necessary."
Mmm. I mean, that's a fair point. "What if I promised no more headbutts or stabbings?"
"Then I'd worry for my life in other ways." He shakes his head.
"You don't trust me?" I mock. "I'm wounded."
"Actually I am the one that's wounded, remember?" He rubs his shoulder, and I have to admit, I feel a little pride at that. He's bigger than me but I still managed to get a good hit in. I'll take the win.