"I was coming back," I say, coughing.
"Sure you keffing were," Mathiras retorts, arms crossed over his chest. He's the most reasonable of the three nitwits, so if he's that angry, it's not a good sign.
I rub my throat. "You can ask Ruth."
"She said she married you. How do we know you haven't brainwashed her?" Kaspar scowls at me. "To get her to do your bidding?"
Brainwashed? Ruth? Do my bidding? I snort. "If you've been around a human female for longer than the space of a breath, you'll know it's impossible to get them to do anything they don't want to do."
Adiron leans over towards Mathiras. "He's got a point."
I'm making headway. "Go talk to Ruth. She'll tell you that we've been hunted for the last three months by endless crews of bounty hunters, all looking to make a profit off of us. There's logs of all of it on the Eye, it can be confirmed with my crew, and I'll even provide records of the scrapyards we sold the confiscated ships to and the rewards for the bounty hunters turned over to authorities."
Mathiras's expression turns dark. "So while we were fighting for our lives and that of a hundred-odd humans in stasis, you were getting richer?"
All right, wrong tactic. "I left you there because I needed to speak to my uncle in regard to the humans. I admit, I panicked. I didn't know what to do, so I came to Risda III. My uncle refused to see me. You can ask him about that, too, since you're such good friends with him now," I snap. I go on and tell them about my mother sending out assassins to get rid of me, our stay on Jirri, and then the discovery of Ruth's cloning when we found Ruthie. I spill everything, keeping no secrets, because I just want to get back to my mate.
Kaspar's expression turns wary as I speak of clones, and he kicks Mathiras not-so-subtly under the table. Aha. So they've noticed something with the cloning, too.
"We have questions that need answering." Mathiras keeps his dark expression on his face. "You're not going anywhere until we're satisfied."
"Of course." It's a hollow threat, because even now, I'm not being held down and no blaster is pointed to my head. They're in my uncle's house, utilizing his hospitality. I suspect this is all bluster on their part to assuage hurt feelings. Which…is fair. I did a shitty thing, leaving them behind after I forced them to abandon their ship. It wasn't one of my prouder moments, and I acknowledge that. "Ask me anything."
Kaspar speaks up first. "What do you intend to do with the clones? You said Ruth has one. We've found at least one other—a rather nasty gladiator—that's been cloned. If the entire batch of humans is nothing but illegal clones, are you fine with putting them down?"
"Putting them down?"
"Destroying them as the law states."
"Kef the law," I say, disgusted he'd even suggest it. "They're people, and if they're not welcome here, I'll find somewhere else to take them. We'll get them the proper documentation to ensure it's kept secret and let them live their lives how they choose. It's not their fault they were cloned improperly."
"What about Ruth's clone?" Kaspar asks, giving me a strange look.
I'm getting irritated, because Ruthie is nothing like my mate, and she certainly won't be “put down” like improperly bred meat-stock. "First of all, you don't touch Ruthie. Second of all, my wife doesn't have a clone. She has a sister. A twin."
"With the same name?" Mathiras asks.
"Their mother was uncreative," I snarl. "And I will rip the heads off of anyone that suggests otherwise!"
The brothers exchange a look. Kaspar grunts, lifting his shoulders in the barest shrug. "It's a good answer."
Mathiras turns his narrow-eyed gaze on me. "There's clearly an illegal slaving and cloning ring at work. The fact that a sa'Rin ship was found with them aboard can't be a coincidence. Is your mother involved?"
"It's entirely possible." I try to dredge up soft feelings for my mother and find none. She tried to have me killed. Worse than that, she tried to kill my mate. For that, she can die. "If you're asking me if I have a problem with hunting down my mother to put an end to this, the answer is no. She's chosen her path, but it doesn't mean that it's mine."
"My turn," Adiron says. "I have a question."
I glance over at him.
Adiron slaps the table and grins. "You still wear black underpants?"
I groan. So do his brothers.
92
RUTH
Lord va'Rin's house is pretty. I guess.
I slump in a tufted-cushioned, expensive-looking chair as we wait to be seen by the “very busy” lord himself. We're sitting in what looks like a drawing room of some kind, and the ceiling is made entirely of windows to let the light in. There's a massive musical instrument that takes up the entire back wall and has so many fiddly buttons and controls that I'm afraid to touch it. Strange-looking potted plants are interspersed between the oversized pieces of furniture, and a slender robot with a water reservoir races around the room, watering them. The rug at my feet is easily a few inches thick and ripples with color whenever anyone steps across it. The house is gorgeous and rich and alien, but I see the occasional human touches here and there. Heck, when we first entered the house, an enormous “moving” portrait greeted us of the tall, austere Lord va'Rin in his wizard robes and with long hair—just like Straik when I first met him. Unlike Straik, the man in the picture has a baby in his arms, and one very young child stands in front of his seated wife. It's a cozy picture, and the lord in the portrait stares at his wife with unadulterated pleasure. Lord va'Rin wants everyone in the universe to know that he's got a human mate and half-human kids.