Chapter Six

GABRIELLA

Have you ever tried sleeping on a cave floor? It was more comfortable that I had expected, but I barely slept a wink all night. The ultra-thin blanket Laz left me felt about as thick as a sheet of toilet paper, but it was warm. I felt like I had a wool garment wrapped around me.

I found myself trapped in a shitty catch-22 of being exhausted as all hell but unable to get the sleep I desperately needed. Instead, I stared into the dark of my closed eyelids. Frantic memories raced through my mind, and I couldn't stop thinking.

The last time I had these problems was when Ronnie was my neighbor. He was an untalented dirtbag who lived in the upstairs apartment when I used to live with Jake. Getting well-rested before I had to get up for work was impossible when the sounds of a struggling artist playing grating 'music' into the dead of the night filled the apartment.

I opened my eyes reluctantly. They adjusted to the bright yellow glow of the emergency light stuck against the wall. The only companion around was my shadow. I sighed. Laz was still out.

I knitted my eyebrows together and peered out at the faint traces of light streaking across the hazy sky. It was almost daybreak. Great. My first sunrise on a wretched alien planet. How romantic. The thought of starting a new day made me shudder.

My head fell back on a small pillow. What could be keeping him away for so long? I fluffed the pillow absent-mindedly.

Although I was grateful for the rescue, I wasn't sure how I felt about Laz. I couldn't get a read on him for the life of me. I felt shaken up when he exploded.

To be fair, I supposed I could have kept my mouth shut and given him time to process what was going on around him. I wondered if I had caught him at the wrong time or if he had an unstable, explosive temper. What if my encounter was merely a taste of what was coming in the future?

I was responsible for everything that was happening to me. What was I thinking? How could I have accepted someone's hand in marriage without knowing anything about him? He was my husband already and the facts I knew about him could be counted on one hand. For all I knew, I had married a psychopathic serial killer, and I was going to be another one of his wives who met an untimely demise.

Even though it was a stereotypical premise, it could be true. That would explain why he chose me so quickly in the first place. Had he given the marriage any thought at all? Why else would he have chosen me out of all the other TerraMates brides?

Maybe trusting my gut was reckless and stupid. I rubbed my head, thinking about all the information I knew about Laz. The Maztek army men answered to him, so he was a commander. Early on, I thought he was a man of few words. Now that I had interacted with him, it seemed he was a man of no words. It had even crossed my mind that he might not speak much Standard, but now I knew that was not the case.

'Sorry' didn't seem to be part of his vocabulary, although he did leave me with light, water, and bedding before he abandoned me for the night. I would have appreciated it more if he had told me what time he would be back, but I enjoyed the comforts.

Other than that, I had a blank for the rest of Laz's profile. What were his likes and dislikes? What was his family like? Did he have brothers? Sisters? A drunk great-uncle? Did he drink his coffee black, or with sugar? Did caffeine even exist on Maztek? The unanswered questions in mind were coming far too late to help.

I clucked testily and lifted my back off the ground. Unscrewing the jug, I took a large gulp of refreshingly cold water. My eyes flicked to the empty cave entrance and back to the ground.

I draped the blanket around me like a cape and huddled up against the wall. Damn it. Where was he?

Laz had returned briefly during the night for a couple of minutes before disappearing again. Groggy but lucid, I had peeked out from under my covers to observe him in action. After he had crept back into the cave, he made a beeline for a knapsack of weapons. I was surprised by how much he could fit into a seemingly bottomless bag and wanted one for myself. I didn't feel comfortable asking him for one or borrowing something.

It felt creepy pretending to be asleep while I observed him, but I didn't want him to know I was awake.

I realized something was off when I heard him suppressing grunts of pain. I had noticed earlier that he was favoring one of his arms. There were jagged teeth marks along his right bicep, and electric-blue alien blood jetted out of the puncture wound.

I watched as Laz poked around in his bag until he found a square silver case. He split the case open with one hand and removed a thick syringe filled with green liquid. Gross. I've always been squeamish about shots and this one looked painful. I didn't know what was in the needle, but after he stuck it into his arm and injected the green liquid, his wound started healing itself. Within a few seconds, his arm looked as good as new. I had to look carefully to see a faint scar on his bicep.

Mazteks were fascinating creatures. During the explosion and the ensuing chaos with the Xylo guards, I noticed that the Maztek had come out virtually unscathed. My heart had jumped every time I saw one of the Maztek fall over or land on their backs, but they would spring right off the floor every time.

One Maztek warrior had fallen over the edge of a multiple-story drop but was fighting at the side of his crew minutes later. I watched him slash the throats of two Xylo guards soon after. Their bodies were tough and resilient, but I assumed that a deep cut could be fatal, even for them.

It looked like Laz had lost a lot of blood from the bite, and it had needed immediate treatment. I realized some of his blue blood stained the walls of the cave.

There was one thing I couldn't ignore, and it was something I didn't want to admit to myself. He looked drastically sexier in person, and I wasn't prepared for the reality of his presence. I couldn't explain it in words, but the night before I couldn't help but break out in a cold sweat as I watched him heal his body. As soon as the fear subsided, I was unable to look away from him.

His face was shiny with sweat and his jaw clenched while he patched up the wound. I knew he hurt but wasn't giving into the pain. His silent but heavily breathing body oozed masculinity, and part of me responded to it.

I have never been the type to get all hot and bothered by manly, peacocking men who paraded their bravado on their sleeves, but Laz was different. The way he calmly took control of the situation and managed it without making excuses or complaints made my toes curl.

When Jake came home one night after a liquor-binging escapade, he had stubbed his toe on the end of our coffee table. From the crash in the living room and subsequent whining, you would have thought his leg had been cut off. I was asleep in our bedroom at the time, but I instantly woke up. For the briefest of moments, I thought a toddler had wandered into our apartment and taken control of Jake's body.

When I rushed out to the living room after hastily throwing my bathrobe on inside-out, I found a red-faced Jake on the floor cradling his big toe. Full-fledged tears were flowing down his face, and he reeked of vodka and vomit. The pathetic image of an unemployed, full-grown man crying out for his mommy made me cringe.

Snap.

My ears perked up. I hopefully glanced over at the cave entrance. The whistling breeze rustled a few branches across the floor.

"Hello? Is someone anyone there?"

A figure cast an enormous shadow over the entrance, its shoulders and legs spaced apart in a threatening stance. I choked on my words and fled to a corner of the cave. It was Laz, but he looked deadly.

Loose, dark waves of hair were matted and stuck to his face. The rag which once protected his lungs hung loosely around his neck. Splatters of bright red blood covered his face and uniform. The scent in the air started to change, becoming thick with the sour, metallic stench of fresh blood. My eyes zeroed in on a knife in his left hand. The blade dripped a scarlet red liquid, the same color I saw on his body and clothes.

I let out a small scream. "Are you okay? Why is there so much blood?"

Laz dropped the knife to the ground and reached outside the cave. Using both hands, he hoisted a large, furry carcass into the room, leaving it only a few feet from the entrance. I swallowed my screams and fought to regain control of myself.

The kill was a plump two-headed animal with two sets of antlers and spotted yellow fur. There was hardly any blood on its hide. In fact, there were no signs of an entry wound other than the gutting of the animal, but it appeared to have been cut after death. There was a clean break in the animal's neck. The creature's glossy green eyes looked peaceful and unaware of their demise.

"Sorry." I tried to look calm. I tugged on the ends of my hair skittishly. "You startled me."

"It's fine," Laz replied.

He grabbed his bag and pulled out a small gray cloth the size of a face towel. As he rubbed it against his face, the towel began to absorb all the animal blood on him. He walked back to the entrance and wrung out the rag outside the cave.

"What took you so long? You were gone the whole night."

"It took time for me to find this poor fellow. He was the only healthy one in the herd. All the other winoas I saw were half-dead or diseased, so their meat would have been inedible. I did find a couple of wild triple-horned boars, but I had to keep my distance. Those things looked rabid and seemed intent on eating each other."

"You know what? Forget I asked," I mumbled, suppressing a gag.

I couldn't be sure, but I thought I saw a hint of a smile cross his lips. After he had gotten himself cleaned up, he left the cave and returned carrying wood bark, shavings, and twigs for a fire. I folded the blanket sloppily on my lap and set it aside. By the time I joined him, he already had a flame going in the center of the cave. He fed the fire with more twigs and sticks until he had a controlled burn going.

I sat across him with crossed legs. Unsure of how to strike up a proper, civil conversation with this stranger, and not sure what to talk about even if I did, I kept my mouth shut. I turned my attention the fire and snapped a few more twigs to toss into the flames.

Laz poured water from a jug onto his knife to wash it out. It didn't seem much cleaner to me. He cut some bloody chunks of the pink winoa meat and stuck two sharpened twigs through it. I mumbled a quick "thank you" as he handed it to me before fixing one for himself.

A bizarre thought crept into my mind. This was what the witch from Hansel and Gretel had done. She had showered the kids with truckloads of candy to fatten them up for a wonderful feast for herself. I pushed the crazy thought out of my head and held my twigs over the fire with both hands. Out of the corner of my eye, I looked at Laz suspiciously. I hoped he wasn't going to eat me.

"You're going to want to roast it on all sides slowly and thoroughly like a rotisserie. Winoas are usually excellent when cooked medium rare, but I wouldn't recommend doing that on this planet. If it turns golden-brown, you'll know it's cooked enough to eat."

"Thanks for the tip."

"The meat will be slightly bland, but we'll have to make do."

"That's fine. We're lucky to have anything to eat. I'm sure it will be delicious. I mean, I've had leftover chicken my ex...roommate made before and that tasted like feet."

"I wasn't aware that humans ate feet," he said absentmindedly. He removed a metal disk from his bag and manipulated the ends, forming a pot without a handle. He proceeded to pour the remaining water from his jug into the pot. As the water started to heat up, he sliced off some meat with his knife and added it to the water. I stared at him.

"No, I meant – never mind. Just for the record, we don't eat feet."

"Whatever you say, Earth girl."

We finished roasting our winoa meat and ate our meals in silence. As the aromatic scent of cooked meat wafted into my nostrils, I suddenly felt light-headed. My stomach decided it was the appropriate time to announce how hungry I was. I carefully massaged my belly, but it was intent on rumbling no matter what I did.

My eyes shifted toward Laz, who was too busy eating his meal to notice anything about me. I sipped on the bowl of bone stock he handed me, wetting my lips. The meat was surprisingly tender and juicy. Maybe it was my hunger talking, but everything tasted delicious.

Laz burped, pounding on his chest as he rose to his feet. He was so tall that he had to hold his head at an angle to keep it from hitting the ceiling. Flicking off the black liquid that had plopped on his nose from overhead, he moved to the corner of the cave. He shrugged off the top of his stained uniform and his black tank top, tossing them aside.

I swallowed at the sight of his body, looking at the sinewy ripples of his flexed back. Crossing one leg over the other, I quickly shifted my focus to the clear soup in my hands. As I slurped down the soup, I couldn't stop my eyes from drifting back to Laz. The steam from my soup was increasing the heat in my face.

His body was so sculpted that it seemed like he was a creation brought to life. A giant tattoo of a wheel spanned his entire back, intricately detailed with ancient Maztekki symbols and scripts. It danced along when his muscles moved.

I watched Laz gather hair out of his face and tie it up again in his usual bun. Sliding a couple of knives into his belt, he grabbed onto one of the animal's antlers and dragged it toward the entrance. He looked back at me, smoothing his beard with his free hand.

"There's a stream and small waterfall behind the cave. You can take the jug if you get thirsty again. The container will automatically sterilize the water. If you want to wash in the stream, there's a bar of soap somewhere in my bag. Take the mask with you and don't take it off for long. I'll be back soon."

I nodded, waving half-heartedly to his back as he trotted off. After treating myself to two more pieces of meat and finishing the soup before the fire died out, I took Laz up on his offer. My body felt disgusting. I dug out an unscented bar of soap and headed out to find the waterfall.

The waterfall and stream behind the cave weren't as good as the lake by Grandma Molly's house, but they were something. I stretched my arms behind me, attempting to scratch an obnoxious itch hovering in an impossible-to-reach spot. Failing, I groaned. I looked around to see if anyone was watching me. There was absolutely no one around me. I took off the mask, stripped off my clothes, and placed them on a boulder next to the falling water.

I grabbed the soap and braced myself before stepping into the water. It was freezing! I stood shivering in the water until my body adjusted to the temperature. Taking the bar of soap, I whipped my wet hair out of my face and started to scrub myself down. The water instantly relieved the itch on my back.

I thought I might never feel clean again, but I was getting there. I rubbed the soap on my head and started lathering it into my hair.

As I set down the bar of soap, I thought I heard the crackle of a twig. My eyes flew open. I gazed around me, but there was nobody there. Sighing, I cursed under my breath and went back to washing my hair. My fatigue was starting to play tricks on me.

Or was there someone else out here with us?