Page 17 of January Bell

I can’t look away with him. Zan’s face is undeniably beautiful, all sharp angles and high cheekbones, the purple hue of his scaly skin set off by his silken white hair. Even the thick scar over his eye adds to his beauty, keeping his features from too-alien perfection.

He’s like a fairy king from some children’s story.

His silvery-white lashed eyelids flutter shut, a muscle jumping in his temple as he inhales deeply. “For me, if I mate with you and you decide you no longer want me, it will break me.”

He’s as serious as he can be when he says this, as serious as I’ve seen him, and some of that strange, psychotic fire I’ve seen in his eyes before seems to light again.

“Can you at least hold me while we sleep tonight?” I ask extremely grumpily, stomping my foot like a two-year-old. “I hate that I respect you more for this.”

“That’s an odd thing to say.”

“Well, everything about this is odd.” I’m acting out of my mind and I know it, and he must know it too. But he doesn’t say anything. He just stares at me with that strange, possessive light in his eyes.

“Do you think it’s possible Ken put something in the food?”

Now that I’ve said it out loud, really said it, I have a feeling, a sneaking suspicion, that that’s exactly what the AI did. “Ken’s obsessed with making sure ratings are getting higher,” I muse out loud, “and that people are tuning in, and if anything had the ability to make us do this—” I say, gesturing between us and rolling my eyes.

“What do you mean by this?”

“Be honest with each other,” I say emphatically, gesturing wildly with my hands. “When have either of us been honest with each other?”

“I was honest when I said I wanted you for my mate.”

“Yes, and you went about it as obnoxiously as possible; I assume to wear me down.”

“Well, I wouldn’t put it quite like that.”

“Well, I would. And you did,” I say.

“And frankly, I think honesty is better than what we were doing.”

“I hate again that you were right.”

“Should I stop trying to be right?”

“I don’t think either one of us can stop saying what we really want to say.”

I place, my hands at my hips, more uneasy by the moment. The chicken pays us no attention, and I sigh, pausing briefly to tilt my chin up, staring at the stars overhead. They’re extremely different than the stars on Earth, and I recognize absolutely none of them. Still, there’s something peaceful about the inky black of the night sky and the fact that even on this strange, abandoned space station in some corner of the galaxy I never thought I would go to, stars still exist.

I breathe out deeply, somehow settled by that thought, and look at Zan.

“We gotta get through this. We have to get through this. I refuse to not make it out of this competition.”

“You think that I would let you fail?” There’s a bit of a growl to the question.

“That’s not what I’m saying. I’m saying that we can’t get so wrapped up in our sexual compatibility that we forget that we’re in serious danger here.”

“So, you think we’re sexually compatible?” he says, raising one eyebrow. Starlight glints off his white hair, and he grins at me, a fiendish thing.

Zan stalks closer, and I refuse to give an inch as he approaches, lifting my chin in defiance.

“Well, my body is absolutely saying that we are, and while I don’t prefer admitting that out loud, you’ve just declared that you will not take advantage of me until I’m one hundred percent sure that we want to be together forever." I take a deep breath, raking a hand through my short hair in an attempt to self-soothe. "So you do that sexy walk thing towards me as much as you want, and you give me that sex-on-a-stick look, but you better believe that I’m not getting anywhere near you, mister, unless you decide that there’s no strings attached.”

“I’ve never had a string attached,” he says, pausing and looking down at his arms, then his legs, inspecting his feet. He stares at me, and I realize belatedly he’s looking for a loose⁠—

“That’s not what that— you know what,” I tell him. “Don’t worry about the string, okay? I mean that we’re not going to bang.”

“Bang?” He’s staring at me again. “What do you mean, this bang?”