Stolen (Tribes #2) - Milana Jacks Page 0,36

juice on her hair almost like shampoo.

I do the same, and a potent, pleasant scent bursts in the air. Inhaling, I sigh and clean myself. “And?”

“The hook is how they mark the females.”

“And how many females is that?”

“One,” Hart says. “Just one.” He’s sitting by the pit, sharpening wood.

“For a lifetime?” I ask.

He nods.

That’s all kinds of sexy. Hart doesn’t seem like he’s ever letting Steph go. As Hart does with Steph, Nar makes me feel like I’m not just a walking womb, and if that’s the case, I better shut down my pod, because there’s no way I’m leaving the signal out there. I’ve always wanted kids, and our National Security would hurt them. Oh no. At the thought, my hands stop massaging my scalp. My heart’s beating a mile a minute.

Hart snaps his head my way. “What awkward thing is now happing with you, female?”

“I’m thinking about something.”

“Can you stop?”

I nod. “Sure, yeah, no problem.”

“Hart, I got this,” Stephanie says and envelops me in a hug again. “It’s okay. It is. We keep swimming. The current is in our favor. Their faith is in our favor. Whatever fate may come, evoke the goddess at will. They fear them.”

Hart clears his throat. His hearing is excellent of course.

“Thank you,” I say, and squeeze her, then continue bathing. “Are you going to have pups?” I ask.

“Oh, I’m having babies.” She chuckles, white eyes lifting at the corners.

“How can you be sure?”

“Because that’s what I’m having.” She nods, looking certain or, rather, determined, though I doubt she knows for sure.

“At least you won’t lay eggs.” Nar’s voice comes from behind me, and I turn toward the bath entrance at the same time as he bends at the knees and leaps over the lake-sized bath.

I gape.

“It’s the fitness,” Stephanie whispers and waggles her eyebrows.

I drop my gaze and smile. It feels good to share naughty thoughts about another species with another woman. “I have so many questions.” And thoughts. Thousands of thoughts.

“We have all the time to ask them. Let’s dry off and eat.”

Minutes later, the four of us sit around the firepit, Stephanie and Hart across from Nar and me. Nar’s butchering something while I try to think of anything else. My pod, for example. “Did your pod get destroyed?” I ask Stephanie, who ties a towel around her body and sits next to Hart, legs spread before her and near the fire, toes wiggling.

“My pod is over at the tower.” She points.

Hart’s watching me like a panther might watch a rabbit. It’s as if he knows what I’m thinking, and apparently he does, because he says, “Amti is staying here, Aoa.”

“Of course.” I nod.

“Do you know how to navigate the pods?” Stephanie asks.

Nar pauses midslice and turns toward me. “Do you?”

I struggle with what to say. I’ll never see my pod if he finds out I can navigate it away from here. Pods fly on autopilot, but a licensed pilot can fly pods. “I have class B license.”

“Oh,” Stephanie says.

“What’s that mean?” Nar asks me. “Why is it an ‘oh’ from the only other womankind here? Tell me.” He hands me a dagger with thin-sliced red meat on it and captures my wrist. He guides it over the fire, where the meat sizzles over the blade. My belly rumbles.

“It’s unusual to have a class B license,” Stephanie says, pale eyes locked with mine. “National Security clears those.”

Hart leans his elbows on his knees and rips into half of the animal, the leg practically disappearing into his mouth.

“Go on, Aoa,” Nar bites out. “We’re familiar with your security detail, especially how they like to kill species classified as predators.”

“I’m not National Security. I swear it.”

“But?” Nar probes.

“But my brother heads National Security, and with it came the license.”

“Oh my God, Mike the Snake is your brother?” Stephanie asks, eyes wide.

I nod, knowing what she must think of me. My brother, the Snake, double-crossing people and grabbing power wherever he can, me always standing by his side, smiling in approval, having no balls to confront him about anything even behind closed doors.

“Have you sent a distress signal?” Stephanie asks.

Hart leans in closer, practically ready to pounce on me. I glance at Nar, who’s also leaning in, waiting for my answer.

I shake my head.

“Why not?” Nar asks.

“I couldn’t. The tech crashed.” I did try fixing the tech and almost succeeded. If they let me return to my pod, I could fix it now.

“As promised, I will take you to your pod,” Nar says.