Page 7 of Theirs to Crave
“Time is hard to track here, but it seems like they feed us about once a day,” Shane finished, his voice pained.
“Feed us...what, exactly?” I asked, morbid curiosity taking over as my mind flailed and my stomach revolted at the idea of eating anything fromthat.
There was an uncomfortably long pause. Finally, Ria cleared her throat. “Think of it as a protein shake. Whatever it is, none of us have died from it, and honestly, I’ve had protein shakes that tasted worse.”
I shuddered. I wanted to say I’d die before I ate some weird slop from a nasty trough, but I knew it’d be a lie. Disgusting as the idea was, I wanted to live. I wanted to go home. My eyes wandered over the second basin, which was similar but with a lower, narrower nozzle and a four-inch mesh grate set into the bottom. Horror shot through me. “No.”
“We won’t look,” Shane promised.
“Mierda,” muttered Mariano.
???
Using the basins had been—if anything—more awful than I’d expected. Everyone pretended not to see, hear, or smell anything, but we all knew it was a polite lie. I’d cried as my bladder emptied, squeaked when the nozzle thing turned out to be a sort of ice-water-dispensing bidet, and burned with embarrassment as I did a little bouncing shake thing to dry off—longing for toilet paper.
The “protein shake” was chalky and mostly flavorless, and even as hungry as I was, I couldn’t force myself to eat much of it. We weren’t provided straws or cups, and our only access to water was from the bidet, so eating was yet another exercise inhumiliation—and filth. I was getting a very clear picture of why this ship smelled so bad. Our alien hosts didn’t seem to believe in personal autonomyorhygiene. Along with tacos and leggings, a week-long shower was very high on my post-abduction wish list.
“So, what’s the deal with the walls?” Mariano asked.
I blinked, disoriented. Trying to climb out of the pit of cyclic dread I’d been spinning in, I looked at the weirdly shimmery grid blankly. Each bar was about a half inch thick, with the spaces between them only big enough to fit a finger or two—not that I’d try. I’d brushed against one of those walls earlier and it had sucked as bad as the collar zap.
“Do they ever turn them off?” My brother persisted. “What about when they bring in new people?”
“Ah. No.” Shane shook his head. “They have this remote control—”
“Maybe you can overload them,” Logan shot out. “Give it a try. Just grab on and don’t let go.”
“You first,” Mariano gritted back, baring his teeth in a mockery of a smile.
“You’re all taking this ‘abducted by aliens’ thing pretty well.” I spoke louder than necessary, craning my neck to make eye contact with the others deliberately. Cassandra met my eyes, mouthed an apology, and pushed up to talk quietly with Logan. I couldn’t hear what they said, but their body language was heartbreakingly familiar. Him, pushing into her space on the balls of his feet, his movements sharp and alarming. Her, bending, making herself smaller, hands open and conciliatory.
“Pot, kettle,” said Ria, snorting.
Worried as I was, I still warmed at the implied praise. I smiled shyly at the tall, imposing woman.
“I lost my shit for a good couple days,” Ria admitted. “And those two were a mess when they got here.”
I’d be a mess if I was trapped alone with Logan, too, I thought.
“Shane here is too cool to freak out like us mere mortals,” she added with a cheeky grin.
He smiled a Mona Lisa smile, but his watchful attention stayed on Cassandra and Logan’s cage. Only when the other man threw his hands up and stomped to the back corner did he shift his eyes back to us. “We need to be calm if we’re going to take advantage of any opportunities to escape.” He caught my hopeful inhale and grimaced. “Not that there’s been any yet.”
“Do you think there will be?” Cassandra asked, her voice small and brittle.
“Yes,” Shane answered.
She didn’t seem to hear him as she stared at nothing, twisting her fingers in her shift.
My brother strode to the front of our cage, drawing her gaze. “We’ll find a way, Mariposa,” he said firmly. “We’re getting out of this.”
Cassandra searched his face and finally nodded, going to sit near the aliens’ cage. The dark purple one—Salat—joined her. The two of them seemed to have formed some kind of bond.
I stared at Mariano. Less than a day with the girl and he was giving her nicknames. Hopeless. I grabbed him by the armand pulled him back, hissing at him in Spanish. “Are you crazy, hermano? She has a man. Don’t be stupid.”
He growled and raked his hands through his hair. “Her man is an ass.”
“But he’sherass, idiot. She’snotyour butterfly. Leave it alone.”