“Be sure to strap yourself in,” he told her, as he rapidly connected the straps of his own harness. “We’re going straight up and getting out of Earth’s atmosphere might be bumpy.”
Em did as he said, quickly fitting the buckles together and trying not to look at the angry mob that had gathered outside the ship’s viewscreen. They were hammering on the ship’s golden skin with their fists as well as other weapons, but she couldn’t tell if they were damaging it. She certainly hoped not.
As the ship rose into the sky she heard one last voice rise in a shriek.
“Beast fucker!!!”
And then, mercifully, they were out of earshot and the mob in her back garden was reduced to a lot of angry ants.
Em took a deep breath, raked her hand through her hair, and slumped back in the overlarge seat.
They were off—but where were they going?
At the moment, she didn’t care. It was enough to be away from the angry crowd and their nasty, hurtful words. Enough to be flying free and leaving the planet she loved—though she sometimes thought she hated its inhabitants—behind.
I don’t care where we go, Em thought as Earth became nothing more than a blue and white billiard ball in the viewscreen. So long as we get away from there.
She had no idea how soon she would come to regret that thought and wish heartily that she could take it back.
6
“I’m so sorry,” Minister Oxley was apologizing for her people again. “I promise we’re not all that racist…er, speciesist,” she corrected herself, looking uncertain.
“It’s all right,” Rarev assured her. “I would never judge all of your people after only meeting a few of them.” Though he privately thought the human males were idiots.
“Which is exactly how most of my people seem to be judging the Monstrum,” she said stiffly.
Rarev cast a glance at her. Everything about her body language spoke of her discomfort—she had her legs crossed tightly and her arms folded over her full breasts, cupping her elbows. Her lovely, lush lips were compressed to a tight line and she was staring straight ahead through the viewscreen, as though she was embarrassed to look at him. Even her scent smelled of humiliation, he thought.
They might have gotten off on the wrong foot, as the humans said, when he had let himself into her domicile, but he felt the urge to put her at ease anyway.
“Emilia,” he murmured, “Even if every other human on Earth was like that, I wouldn’t judge you by them. You’re one of the few who stood up for my people and championed our right to call brides from among the humans. I will be forever grateful for that.”
She sighed and raked a hand through her long, gray hair.
“Well, I’m afraid after that little encounter my influence is going to be considerably less—at least regarding the Monstrum.”
Rarev raised his eyebrows at her.
“Because they believe that I am ‘fucking’ you?”
Her face flushed, her cheeks growing becomingly pink. Not for the first time, he thought how distractingly lovely she was.
“Er…yes,” she said shortly. “Which is patently ridiculous, of course.”
“Is it?” Rarev frowned at her. “Why? Do you secretly hold the same views as the rest of the humans? You wouldn’t want me to touch you in that way?”
“What? No!” she exclaimed, her face getting even pinker.
“Ah…then you do want me to touch you in that way,” Rarev purred. He was aware that he shouldn’t be baiting her, but he couldn’t help it. She looked so beautiful when she blushed, as she was now.
“I never said that!” she denied, her cheeks getting even pinker. “Anyway, it’s a ridiculous idea, no matter what anyone says.”
Rarev frowned.
“Why is the idea of me making love to you ‘ridiculous?’”
“Well because—I’m so much older than you. At least, I assume that I am. Er…forgive me—it’s a bit difficult to place your age,” she added stiffly.
So that was her problem? But it didn’t make sense—why would age be a barrier between them? After all, his own people—the Lionus Kindred and other phyla of Feline Monstrum Kindred—were specifically attracted to mature females who were entering their Second Heat.
Either the age barrier she claimed was another human vagary—like the one that caused human males to prefer skinny females to Elites—or she was lying to him.
“I am thirty-five cycles of age,” he said, his voice dropping to a soft growl. “Though I don’t see what our respective ages have to do with anything.”
“It just…makes any kind of, er, relationship between us much less likely,” Emilia said. She straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin. “But I’m afraid you’re right—that’s exactly what the Press is going to assume now. They’re going to think I’m crafting legislation in favor of the Monstrum Kindred because I’m, er, romantically involved with one of them.”
“With me,” Rarev said bluntly.