Bay's Mercenary [Unearthly World Book 1] (6 page)

“She’s what?”

“She’s um, she
isn’t disturbing me; she’s real quiet. Just having her beside me is a big help;
I can concentrate.”

“Really?”
There was something strange going on, but Zane wasn’t certain what
it was. “Well, go wash up; it’s time to eat and I know you’ve been petting that
thing. Your hands are probably filled with germs.”

Draven
groaned and slipped from the
bed. “Come on, Bay.”

As
Draven
went past him, his pet followed.
Zane scooped her up under an arm.
“Oh no you
don’t.
The second you’ve washed your hands, you’ll be touching this
thing again. She can sit on her mat until you’re done eating.”

Draven
looked none too happy but
dutifully did as he was told. Zane took the pet back to their main living
quarters and plopped the female onto her mat.

“Stay,” he
commanded sharply. He was annoyed she had disobeyed in the first place and
raised his hand to smack her nose. The female made a high-pitched frightened
noise and cowered back away from him. She backed up so quickly, she banged into
the wall and howled a pathetic sound.
Draven
came
flying into the room.

“What did you do
to my pet?” he demanded.

“I was just
teaching her some obedience.” Looking from the quaking female to his enraged
son, Zane was feeling a little mean. The female’s big brown eyes looked so sad,
Zane felt a touch remorseful, which was odd—it was a pet after all.

“How would you
like to be put in a strange place and left all alone?”
Draven
raged. “It’s frightening.”

Zane took a deep
breath.
Draven
was no longer a baby, but he still
remembered being left by his mother in the jungle beyond the high fence close
to their home. Zane also remembered the same experience when he was no more
than a month old. At
Draven’s
young age, he also
remembered his mother’s language—he would forget sometime in his adolescence.
When Zane had found his squalling infant son, Zane had felt awash with
sympathy. He could just make out the shadow of
Draven’s
mother’s back as she disappeared back in the direction to her own domain. Zane
often wondered if it hurt a female to give up her son. It was for the best. The
female of their species was unpredictable around males. A young male wouldn’t
last, even if it had the protection of its mother in the female’s domain; there
were just too many mothers of female offspring who wouldn’t tolerate a male so
close to their young ones.

Draven
was on the mat, stroking the
hair of the female. He was talking to it as though it could possibly understand
their words. Toffs were intelligent, but even they only caught a word here and
there. Zane crouched down beside his son.

“It’s all right,
little creature,” Zane soothed and reached to pet the female. “Good female.”

“Bay,” his son
said sharply.

“It’s all right,
Bay. All right, no corporal punishment. I suppose it is too small to be
striking.”

“You should give
Bay a treat.”

Now feeling a
little cocky, Zane gave a hard stare to his son. “Really,” he drawled. “Why is
that?”

“Bay needs to know
you won’t hurt her; she needs to trust you.”

Zane sighed. He
could see how important this was to
Draven
. He got to
his feet and went to the kitchen. When he returned he held out his treat
thinking the little female would like what he held. To Zane’s surprise, Bay
screamed at the
vida
bug; she jumped to her feet,
shot past him and fled to
Draven’s
room where they
found her hiding under his bed. Both
Draven
and Zane
peeked at her shivering form. She looked horrified.

“Father, I don’t
think Bay likes
vida
bugs.”

“You think?” he
drawled sarcastically.

Chapter 5

As the days went
by, Bay was finding it more and more difficult to keep her intelligence under
wraps. Zane was growing suspicious. Bay still wasn’t quite certain where she
stood with him and wanted to keep him in the dark a little longer, but perhaps
not too much longer. It was getting harder to do; there was something about Zane
that she never noted with
Blu
. Finn and
Blu
had taken turns with her, with their rotating schedule,
but Zane was around her a great deal. There were times Zane seemed so
distracted and puzzled, Bay wondered if for a moment he was always like that,
until
Draven
had asked his father point blank—“Father,
why
are you
being so weird?” To which his father
replied, somewhat under his breath—“Damned if I know.”

Bay’s throat was
healing to the point she felt she could now be understood, and
Draven
was teaching her to speak two separate languages. One
was his
father’s,
the other she assumed was a child’s
secret language. The secret language was guttural and animalistic, but fun in
an odd way.
Draven
loved it when she spoke to him in
the silly language—cuddling beside her and laying his sweet head against her.

During the day,
Bay was sent into the garden. The glass on their home wasn’t glass at all; she
could step through it and let herself back into the home if it rained—like some
huge doggy door. The backyard was cleared of all large shrubbery and was about
the size of a normal backyard on Earth. The sun or suns, shone a bit brighter
as there were no shadows lurking in the enclosed space. There were toys she
could play with when
Draven
came home; heavy thick
balls he bounced to her; a teeter totter you stood up on, not sat on; and a
child-sized obstacle course. Until
Draven
came home,
she mostly ate, slept and tried to stay out from under Zane’s feet; he acted
even weirder when
Draven
was not about. She preferred
to be outside as Zane spent many hours at home, she presumed working. His room
was off limits, and Bay stayed away.

Washing hadn’t
been easy; as there was no way she would allow
Draven
to bathe her. Thankfully, Zane wasn’t interested. Once, when Zane left to take
Draven
to school, she had stepped into their shower and
then run howling from it seconds later. It was like being blasted with a power
washer, and the water was freezing. The shower had left a nasty red mark,
drawing a fine line of blood on her shoulder. Zane had examined it and
questioned
Draven
over it, but of course the boy knew
nothing—he had been at school, and Bay knew that Zane knew this. Zane had put
cold cloths on her that had helped, and he seemed honestly concerned.

Bay had been able
to convey her distress to
Draven
, who explained to
his father she needed her own washing area. At Bay’s urging,
Draven
had discreetly mentioned to his father Bay may have
accidently stumbled into their shower and ‘accidently’ hit the faucets, harming
her delicate skin. It was subtle, but from
Draven’s
tone, he made it seem his father had been at fault for not watching her.

Zane dragged out
an old drawer he assumed
Draven
filled each day to
wash her, when Bay filled it herself once left alone. Their black soap was unusual
but cleaned her well enough. Unfortunately, the
Zargonnii
only had water with three settings, ice cold, cold, and cool. Bay longed for a
hot bath.

One of her more
awkward moments with Zane was when he caught her using the facilities. She had
thought he was safely sequestered in his room. There was no way in hell she
would squat over the box filled with soil Zane had provided to do her business
near her black mat.
How embarrassing.
Zane’s eyes had widened in stunned surprise when Bay hopped off the huge
rounded bowl they used, which flushed itself. Bay had yanked down her wrap and,
flaming red, she had tried to run past him. Zane had taken her to her mat, and
after plopping her down, he hunkered to her level. When he spoke, she could
tell he was asking her questions. This was the first time any of the
Zargonnii
had asked her point blank questions, expecting
answers.

Bay knew some of
Zane’s words, but the angry look on his face was anything but welcoming, and
Bay sat, trying to look puppyish. Her big brown eyes were as solemn as she
could make them; she crouched low as though being chastened. After he stopped
rattling off his questions, he suddenly looked around sheepishly—he was, after
all, questioning a pet. It was all
Bay
could do to
keep from smiling as he sauntered away looking disgusted with himself.

Bad female pet—did you poop in the toilet?
Bay chuckled.

Another incident
was less tricky. Zane had walked in on her and
Draven
when she was helping him with his homework. Pencil in hand, Bay almost panicked
when Zane walked over and gaped at her, wide-eyed and
openmouthed
—until
she stuck the pencil between her teeth and chewed it. Zane wrestled it away and
shook it off, marching from the room in a huff, declaring it covered in female
Earth slobber.
Draven
and Bay had to stuff their
faces into the pillows, they were laughing so hard.

Bay smiled with
her thoughts as she
strolled
the backyard. She adored
Draven
. Earth was a pile of rubble from the natural
disasters that had befallen it;
Ulsy
was a war zone.
This new home was as safe as any. She felt she was ready to tell Zane who she
was, what she was. He wasn’t cruel, and she was positive he would let her stay.
His looks were growing on her. Yes, he was different, but he was intelligent;
he wasn’t ugly, just really big and maybe a little scary. At night, he tucked
her blanket around her, made sure she had water; and on a few occasions, she
had woken to find him simply gazing at her. She hadn’t been afraid, Zane hadn’t
done one thing to harm her; he took better care of her than
Blu
.

Tinkling laughter
filled the air and
Draven
flung himself into Bay’s
arms. He was a big boy and almost toppled her over, but she laughed at his
enthusiasm. At twenty-six, Bay was ready to start a family; but there was no
point while living on Earth, and all human men were killed once they made it to
Ulsy
. If all she ever had was
Draven
to fuss over, she was content. It would be better if Zane knew she was intelligent.
There were times she knew Zane had needed to leave and had no choice but to
cart
Draven
off with him. If nothing else, Bay would
make a reliable babysitter.

Draven
was sweet and thoughtful; he
was kind to a fault. He had to get his manner from someone. There was no mother
in the picture, and the way Zane showed his son affection, Bay was positive he
could also be kind—maybe even to her, even if she wasn’t a pet.

For the most part,
Zane kept his distance, but Bay caught him studying her occasionally. There
were times when Zane came from his room looking harried, and he just sat and
held her, stroking her long hair and crooning in a quiet manner. It was
bittersweet at those times—him wanting the comfort of a pet and she wanting
simple contact.

After a while, Bay
felt she was growing on him. Zane was the one who made certain she had enough
to eat and drink. After the disturbing incident with the vicious bugs, he had
gotten rid of them. There were even times Zane showed her a modicum of
affection—he seemed to like the way her skin felt under his rough hands, and
her hair fascinated both father and son.

“I think it’s time
to tell your father I am not a pet,” Bay said. She struggled with a few of
their words as some rolled; others were more of a grunt, growl and click.

Draven
looked a little disappointed.
“But I love our games. Father looks so silly.”

“I know, but it’s
not fair of me to have you keep my secret, now that I can talk to him and make
him understand.”

“All right,”
Draven
agreed. “I guess it’s not much fun to eat from the
floor or father’s hand and sleep on a mat.”

“The mat isn’t so
bad, but it would be nice to be welcome on your furniture.” Bay didn’t really
even mind Zane offering her different things. There were times some of the food
looked a wee bit iffy—okay, scary. Zane never forced anything at her. If she
backed away from what he held, he never offered it again.

“I guess.”

A screaming growl
caught their attention. Bay looked at
Draven
curiously.
She wasn’t too concerned; the fence was very high and extremely thick.
Draven
went white. The red of his eyes glowed; he looked
terrified, and Bay became concerned.

“
Draven
?”