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“Am I the worst?”
“The worst?” Atlas smiles an incredibly sharp smile, an alien smile with more sharp bits in it than stars in the sky. “Little girl, you are far from the worst. You couldn’t be the worst if you tried, and I do believe you may have tried.”
“She eliminated the spy,” Emrys adds.
“Did you?”
“He betrayed me. He was working for Sheriff. So I made him walk out of an airlock.”
“Merciless,” Atlas says.
“I don’t want to be merciless, but they made me. I want to be normal.”
“Unfortunately, that is no longer possible,” Emrys says. “You are never going to be normal. But you will be very well used and owned and you will become every bit the little monster the universe made you to be.”
“She needs to hunt,” Emrys explains to Atlas. “If she does not hunt, she will be absolutely uncontrollable. But that does not mean she cannot be tamed.”
“She will be tamed,” Atlas says firmly. “And I will expect her to be dressed properly. I am an old-fashioned man, when I am a man at all, and I want my mate to look the part.”
“A 1950’s housewife who consumes the flesh of her enemies?”
“Yes. Exactly.”
“Indeed.”
8 HELLO AGAIN
Iam wearing a very pretty floral dress, sitting curled up on a cushion in front of Emrys, who sits on the valker throne with a casual ease that I am enjoying seeing in him. He is so much more relaxed these days. Time is passing in a languid sort of way now. After all the chaos of the chase and the homecoming, we are all adjusting to our new roles.
Atlas is nearby, not on a throne, but in a chair large and ornate enough that it may as well be one. The valkers have extended him great hospitality, and a kind of honorary royalty.
“My liege, a barbarian craft has just landed,” Aristo announces. “Would you like us to assemble an escort or an offensive force?”
We all look at one another. Atlas is back in his human suit, and I can see him considering whether or not to take it off so he doesn’t have to come bursting out of it later. I do like that he wears the human suit for me, even if he insists on wearing an actual suit with it. He’s an old-fashioned man with old-fashioned values, square jaw, blue eyes, dark hair slicked to the side. On a superficial level, he and I look like we stepped out of an ancient human television show about men who do marketing and women who are stuck married to them. We look civilized and nice, and not at all like heinous, dark creatures.
“Escort the barbarian in,” Emrys says. “We’ve been wondering where he got to.”
It takes a few minutes, but Kronos comes striding in. He is alone, not needing the backup of a retinue. He is taller than I remembered, and hotter than I remembered. His golden hair flows like a magnificent masculine cape over broad shoulders, and his eyes go right to me as he enters our little royal love chamber. I feel a bolt of connection and a flash of yearning. He is so beautiful and he is so good, and he is about to be so disappointed.
“You are so laughably late to this party, barbarian. Where have you been?” Emrys’ lips twist with amusement as he asks the question that is on all our minds.
“I stopped to offer aid to the various creatures harmed along the way,” Kronos says. “You have left a trail of destruction light years wide in your wake. I helped board up the window at Owned Mates, and then of course I had to help settle the crowd on the pirate station where our mate shot someone in half. There was so much trauma. I have promised she will never return. And then, of course, I had to give the blue alien a proper burial. As for the mess on this planet…”
“Are you a barbarian or a cleaner?”
“I am a righteous spirit,” Kronos says. “I exist to right wrongs.”
“Then you are in the wrong place and looking for the wrong girl,” Emrys laughs. “This one was broken from the beginning. Criminal, murderous, desperate, entirely without moral compass…”
“What is she eating?”
Kronos is staring at me with horror in his beautiful gaze. I realize too late that I was chewing my fingers. And when I say my fingers, I of course mean the now well-cooked fingers of Sheriff. The bones and gristle make for a good teeth-cleaning snack and help me control my craving for fresh flesh.
“The last time I saw her, she was consuming only chocolate and ice cream. What has happened?” I see the monster I have become in Kronos’ gaze. He is looking at me with an expression of borderline disgust and confusion, trying to come to terms with things. I put my hand and what remain of Sheriff’s hand behind my back. I don’t like feeling guilty. It’s a rare feeling for me, and I like to think I’ve saved myself from it. Once you free yourself from guilt, you’re free from practically everything forever.
“Emrys happened,” Atlas says. “He turned her into the magnificent creature you now see before you.”
“The homecoming sacrifice has this effect on some weaker creatures,” Emrys says. “She has the appetite of a valker now. She requires living flesh. It’s a small price to pay for her continued survival, no?”
