Zebah’s eyes gleam with approval and I feel a kinship toward her. “Females have to look out for themselves. Men like to think we’re sweet and helpless, and I like proving them wrong.”
I do, too.
CHAPTER 52
MATHIRAS
I’m a little worried about Helen as I monitor the bridge. She’s been quiet all day and I don’t want her to feel threatened by Zebah’s presence. I don’t think it’s jealousy as much as Helen simply feels uncomfortable around her. I worry she—or Zebah—might do something to set the other off, and then I’m going to have two murderous females going at each other. I check them on the monitor, and they seem to be in the same rooms quite often, which concerns me. Are they keeping an unfriendly eye on one another?
When Adiron finally arrives back on the bridge to spell me, I practically race out down the hall toward the rec room to intercept Helen, only to find her laughing with the female mesakkah as she braids Zebah’s hair. “We drugged them and put them back on their ship with no pants,” Helen tells her. “They wouldn’t have known what happened to them for days.”
Zebah snorts. “I love it. Your sisters sound like my kind of females.”
“They’re very fierce,” Helen agrees cheerfully. “I’m the sweet one.”
“Kef me,” Zebah says with a shake of her head, messing up the braid Helen is making.
“Uh…hello?” I call out. “Is this a bad time?”
“Matty!” Helen beams at me, her hands in Zebah’s hair. “We were sharing stories of males we have tricked! You should join us!”
Did I miss something? This doesn’t seem like a pair of enemies. This seems like a trap. Then again, with Helen, a lot of things seem like a trap because the straightforward answer doesn’t always make the most sense. “I actually need to talk to Zebah about what she knows, if she’s willing to share.”
“She is,” Helen assures me. “I told her I would gut her if she did not.”
Both women chuckle at that, and Zebah wags a finger. “I told you. Suffocation is the way to go.”
Riiiiiight. I sit on one of the couches, watching as Helen continues to braid Zebah’s long, thick hair. “You two already had this discussion?”
“Of a sort. I told her you wanted her help, and I want what you want,” Helen assures me. She gives me a happy smile. “And I told Zebah I would gut her if she didn’t help you.”
“Your little qura’aki is very bloodthirsty,” Zebah agrees, and then winces, holding her head when Helen jerks her hair. “Ow!”
“I’m not ‘little.’” Helen states stubbornly. “Now tell Matty what you know.”
Zebah rolls her eyes but sits forward to let Helen finish her hair, all obedience. “Okay, so I’ve been hanging out on 3N for a while. It’s the perfect sort of place for a corsair, right? Kinda scummy, kinda busy, real easy to pick up jobs and blend in with the locals. So like I said, I’ve been there a while, and I’ve been hearing some weird sorts of rumors coming out. You know my business is information.” She studies her nails again. “Except this wasn’t information I could sell because everyone had it.”
“What sort of information?” I ask.
“Lots of gladiator bets were getting all keffed up. Something about how one lord would be sure that his glads had destroyed a fighter, only to have it show up again a year later. At first people just thought it was bragging, but then someone else came forward with the same thing, and people started to sweat about illegal clones. Some of the champion fighters started disappearing, too. It got kinda ugly…and then it got real quiet all over again and I figured someone had paid them to be quiet. Then I noticed that when I went to a slave auction, all of the humans had the same faces. I was told that they were just all from the same family, that all humans looked alike, but it seemed weird to me. And then—”
“Wait, wait,” I interrupt. “What slave auction? When was this?”
She shrugs. “A few weeks ago? Just some piddly slaver. I just thought it was weird that all his humans looked alike.”
“Do you remember his name?”
“Tuvog? Grovog?” Zebah shrugs again as Helen ties off her braid. “I’m not entirely sure, but I’d know him again if I saw him.
“Then we’re going to look for him on Three Nebulas,” I say. “You’re staying until we’re done with you.”
“Ugh. Fine. Whatever.” Zebah rolls her eyes and leans against Helen’s legs. “So you guys really are into some cloning, huh? You didn’t strike me as the type, Mathiras va Sithai. You always seemed like you had a pole up your ass. But I guess after having a taste of Precious here, you want to chow down at the buffet, right?”