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Tapping at her lips, Astra thinks for a moment more before adding, “Aliens. We’ve been abducted by aliens. Obviously.” When the man doesn’t give any confirmation he understands, she smirks. “Eee Tee? You know that one, right? Everyone does. Eee Tee phone home?”
The words mean nothing to me, but understanding dawns on the male’s face. “Oh, yes. Aliens. I’ve figured that much on my own, but thanks, lady, even though you probably don’t understand me. I wish these aliens were as nice as that little Eee Tee guy. I don’t remember him sticking stuff up people’s asses.”
Astra winces, a shudder running through her body. Have the Genixarians done that to her too? Now I recall her mentioning “vaginal prodding” and anger makes me growl. I’ll tear those bastards apart with my teeth and claws the first chance I get.
The male sniffs sharply and wipes at his cheeks. He’s crying, I think. I don’t begrudge him for it or think him weak. He’s scared and has no one to protect him. He can’t even understand the only fellow human in this place.
Astra has a tear rolling down her cheek too. I wipe it off with my thumb, cupping both of her cheeks in my large palms. I don’t ask why she is crying or what I could do to help. I just pull her into my chest and hold her until her tears abate.
She gives me a small smile as she wipes her nose with the corner of the blanket she’s wearing. Her mouth opens, and a tune flows out. She’s singing and her voice is beautiful. She sings of rainbows and birds and dreams. Of wishing upon a star.
The human male doesn’t join in, but a dreamy smile brightens his expression. He retreats into a corner of his cell and tears keep trailing down his face, but the smile remains as Astra sings. Even the other captives perk up and listen, captivated by her magical voice.
I love it. I wish I knew the song so I could join her but I don’t, so I just listen with the others, enamored.
My Myále is perfect. I want to keep her and never let her go.
Chapter 15
Astra
I’ve always been ashamed to sing out loud. I don’t have a terrible voice, but I certainly wouldn’t win any talent shows. I’m not overly shy, but singing feels intimate, as if I’m baring my soul. Honestly, if given a choice between singing or stripping for money, I’d probably choose to take my clothes off because, to me, it’s less personal. Less revealing. Not that anyone would pay money to see my dimpled ass.
But when I heard Nikolai’s muffled sobbing, the song just burst out of me. I tried to keep my voice down, not wanting to attract guards and bring trouble for everyone, but it was difficult.
As I sing, I close my eyes, too nervous about Tareq’s reaction. What if his people don’t sing? What if my singing sounds like a cat screeching to him?
But then he reaches for my hand, bringing it to his chest. He’s purring again, the soft rumble making me smile even as I sing. I don’t need to look to know he’s smiling, too. He likes my voice, and that’s good enough.
I look around as I finish the song. All the other captives that I can see in the dark are by the front of their cells, watching me in captivated silence. They don’t seem angry that I’ve disturbed them or displeased by the sounds I’ve been making. They seem to be waiting. For the next song, maybe?
I swallow roughly, my mind suddenly blank. Even if I was brave enough to sing again, I can’t think of a single song lyrics aside from “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star”. I do not think the aliens would appreciate that one.
To my surprise, it is Tareq who rescues me by singing. His rumbly voice is deep and his words rough, but the song is sweet. He sings about a lonely male on a spaceship who misses his family. He’d much rather be with his mate and children, but he has to work hard to provide for them and it’s tearing him up inside.
As Tareq sings, I snuggle to his chest, placing my ear over his breastbone. His low, growly voice no longer scares me, but brings comfort instead.
I think about going back to my moldy apartment and dead-end jobs. To my mother, who has no motivation to get her life straight since I’m always there to give her money. I think about the few people I call friends but are rather just acquaintances.
I wonder if anyone other than my bosses has even noticed I’m missing. Probably not. Why do I even want to go back there?
Then again, what do I have here? Tareq seems to like me, but maybe that’s just because we’re stuck in this cell together. After we’re free, he’ll be off doing whatever it is he’s doing, catching criminals or hunting other slavers.
And me? I’d be left alone in a world I don’t understand, treated like a caveman transported into the future. I’m from a primitive planet, after all. A forbidden one. Perhaps the galactic authorities wouldn’t even let me stay here so I’m agonizing over nothing. But what if they would? What if Tareq wanted me to stay? Would I?
He stops singing, and our eyes meet. Mine are blurred with unshed tears and I think he’s a little teary as well but, like a true male, he doesn’t want me to see it. I don’t mind. It shows his heart is in the right place.
The silence is interrupted by a low buzzing with an occasional chirp. The mantises in the cell next to ours begin making insect noises and I take a while to recognize a rhythm to them. They’re singing too, in their own way.
Look at that. It seems like I’ve started our own “Cellblock’s Got Talent” show.
Tareq grins at me, probably thinking something similar. Or not. Do aliens have talent shows? I’d bet that no matter how advanced they are, they still have a TV of some sort. Something to provide mindless entertainment for the masses.
Oh, who am I kidding? They totally have talent shows.
My breath catches when something changes in Tareq’s smile. He’s no longer grinning in amusement. His smile has gone softer, more caring. Intimate.
Loving?
