“Recycle them. And yes. We do. It’s really handy and you never have to do laundry.”
Sweet. I followed her in and watched as she fiddled with the machine.
“I wonder if your measurements are in here from the transport data.” She wasn’t talking to me, but herself. By her grunt of satisfaction, I assumed she found what she was looking for. “Karter’s family color? Brown? Sweet.” She eyed me as if deciding what kind of clothing I might want to wear. “That will look totally awesome with your hair, just like that sheet.”
What?
“Duh, the sheet is brown. The couch is brown. Should have known.” She fiddled some more, then her shoulders fell and her grin faded. “Okay, Lady Karter, I set this machine to your specs. It knows it belongs to you now. So, what do you want to wear? Military spec uniform, like me? You can space walk and take a few hits from an ion blaster without getting hurt. Or you can go for the traditional dress worn by most of the Prillon mates I’ve seen. They are pretty, fall to your feet, and remind me of something a Roman goddess would wear.”
Ion blasters did not sound like something I wanted to deal with. And, I was trying to seduce my mate into giving me his damn collar, so we’d go with the dress. “Let’s go goddess.”
“Excellent.” She raised her brows again. “Want a little support for the girls?”
“Definitely.” Glad she’d thought to ask, I stared in wonder as the black panel lit up with some green lines, and the next thing I knew a custom-made dress and soft ankle boots had transported directly into my bedroom. The dress was soft, a gorgeous shade of brown, like my favorite milk chocolate bar, the fabric thicker than I’d imagined it would be, with built in support for my large breasts.
She left me to shower and squirm into the clothing. I didn’t have make-up or anything to mess with, so it didn’t take me long. But there was one thing that made me a bit… uncomfortable. “It’s a bit breezy under this dress.”
Chloe laughed. “I can make you underwear, if you want, but one look at your curves in that dress and they won’t last long anyway.”
“That’s what you think,” I mumbled.
Chloe had spent her time staring out the window. “Look, you’d be proud of me, I found a skateboard.”
I looked out and saw what she was talking about, a long line of stars with two placed beneath them where the wheels would be.
“You’ll be an astronomer yet,” I said.
She turned to me, looked me over. “You look great. And it’s not really fair, I had to pop out two kids to get half your curves.”
I laughed because to me, she looked great in her slim, petite frame.
“Let’s go.”
I watched as she pressed the wall to open the door, then we turned right to walk down a long, beige corridor.
“We’re in the living quarters. You can tell by the brown and orange colors on the walls. That set of colors is for civilian areas.” She slid her hand along the stripe in the center of the metal wall as she went. “Engineering’s blue, medical areas are green, communications are white, command is black and battle stations are red.”
No way I was going to remember all of that. “What do you do with the I.C., exactly?” I had an idea, but she said Ronan worked with her, and I was not above prying for more information to help me understand my mates.
We turned another corner and I peeked over my shoulder, seeing where we’d come from in the hopes of remembering my way back. Everything looked the same.
“I can’t really talk about it, sorry. If the commander gives me clearance, I’ll spill. Until then, I can’t say a word. War stuff.”
“Okay. And Ronan?”
Her look was sympathetic but she didn’t give me any answers. “I probably already told you too much.”
Damn. Fine. I’d try a different track. “So, you were a bride. I assume you were matched, too? Warden Egara?”
She nodded and stopped in front of what I thought was an elevator. Others passed us and Chloe nodded to them. Some looked like Kaed and Ronan, all toffee colored and huge. None of the males were less than six feet tall. Some I recognized as Atlans, big, but not beastly. At least not at the moment.
Clearly, they grew guys bigger in space.
“Yes, to Seth Mills—he’s human, by the way—and Dorian Kanaker. He’s Prillon and the reason for this gold collar. I’ve been here a few years. Have two little rugrats, Dara is two and a half. She’s human. And her little brother just started walking. Christopher. He’s Dorian’s, and already an overly protective brother even though he can barely walk straight.”
Her face lit up when she mentioned them. I felt a pang of envy.
“How do your mates do, with that?”