THE PARTY

“HEY, ARE YOU all right, girl?” Tyra grabbed her arm, then flinched, blinking in surprise when Jet turned on her abruptly, her arm half-cocked. “Whoa... hey! Relax. It’s just me.”

Jet lowered her arm, feeling her face flush.

“Sorry,” she said. “I’m a little jumpy, I guess.”

“I guess,” Tyra said, chuckling. She didn’t lose her smile, but her eyes remained wary, studying Jet’s face. “I just wanted to check in with you. I’ve heard a lot of... stuff. And not all of it from Anslom. We haven’t been here at the same time until now...”

She gestured around them at the Rings practice yard.

Jet followed her eyes. Truthfully, she was having trouble focusing on Tyra even now, or her question. When she looked back at the other woman’s face, the taller woman was frowning at her, her full lips scrunched.

“Hey, seriously,” she said. “Are you okay, Jet?”

Jet forced a smile, coming even more out of the fighting stance she’d barely noticed herself falling into. “Yes. Yes... I’m fine.” She smiled again, a little more naturally that time. “Sorry. I’m a little wound up about the challenge match, that’s all.”

At that, Tyra seemed to relax too.

Then, as if she were thinking about Jet’s words, Tyra gave a derisive snort.

She looked over one muscular shoulder while Jet watched, staring at the other woman who shared part of the space with the two of them. The look in Tyra’s eyes was pure hostility.

The other woman, who weighed more than Tyra and Jet put together and soaking wet, didn’t spare them so much as a glance. She swung a sword the size of a small tree trunk as Jet watched, slicing a metal remote ball coming at her in two like it was made of paper.

“Challenge match?” Tyra said, snorting again. She looked back at Jet, one eyebrow cocked. “You mean public execution?”

Jet winced at the accuracy of the other’s words, although she knew Tyra probably meant it as a joke. She forced herself to laugh humorlessly.

“Appreciate the vote of confidence, Tyra,” she said, clapping her friend on the shoulder with one hand. “Thanks for that.”

But Tyra barely seemed to hear her. She turned back from where she’d been staring at the giant woman Bukka, her cat-like eyes narrowed on Jet’s face.

“Why did Trazen agree to it?” she said, her stare sharpening. “I mean... I got it before. He was trying to put the First Son in his place...”

“Tyra,” Jet cut in, her voice warning. “We can’t talk about this.”

“But why?” Tyra said. “He never stuck me as a sniveling political kiss-ass, whatever his other issues. He has to know what this match is really about...”

“Tyra... for crying out loud...”

Jet looked around the two of them, checking to make sure no Nirreth were standing close enough to have heard her. She looked back at Tyra’s face, incredulous.

“Keep your voice down,” she said, her voice a low threat. “Are you trying to get us killed?”

On its own, calling Laksri “First Son” now that he’d been replaced by Isreti was treason. Tyra knew that. She had to know it. She’d been in the Green Zone longer than Jet.

But Jet’s words barely seemed to make a dent in the other woman’s tirade.

“...Why would he do this now?” Tyra went on, almost like Jet hadn’t spoken. “Trazen owns you now. Why would he agree to something so stupid? Did you piss him off or something?” Tyra’s eyes narrowed more, studying Jet with an intelligence that frankly unnerved her. “Did he get bought off? Does someone want you gone, Jet?”

Jet grimaced, fighting to keep the truth of the other woman’s words out of her expression. Shaking her head, she unsheathed her sword, leaning over to pick up the sharpening stone at her feet so that if anyone was watching the two of them at least she’d be doing something.

Smoothing the whet stone along the edge of the blade, she hesitated only a bare moment before she decided to take a chance.

After all, she didn’t have Anaze and Richter around anymore, telling her how stupid she was for wanting to trust Tyra with any part of the truth.

And Trazen, despite his promises of that night, still hadn’t told her anything.

He claimed it was because he hadn’t been able to get any more of that drug. He hadn’t stung her apart from right before her practice sessions for the same reason... and those stings he’d done in public, and in full view of at least one other Nirreth, if not a group of them. Jet had seen a few of them watching with interest when Trazen pulled her closer to him each of those times.

Jet had to admit, it had gotten harder to keep her hands off him when he did it, public or not. Since that night in Santa Fe, it was harder to convince herself he was just another evil, manipulative, lying Nirreth, which didn’t help.

He seemed to be having more problems with it, too.

He held her a little longer than necessary after those stings. The pauses before he let her go seemed to be stretching, too. Today, he’d held her for what felt like a few minutes, stroking her hair and arms and back with his hands and purring softly in his chest. Eventually though, he’d let her go. She’d noticed his face was taut as he turned his back and walked away.

She hadn’t missed his arousal in that. Nor had he been the only one.

But clearly, he’d gone out of his way beforehand to make sure neither of them could really act on it apart from a few quick touches. In the process, of course, he’d also made sure Jet wouldn’t have either the time or the regained clarity to ask him much.

Scowling as she remembered the truncated conversation they’d had earlier that same day, right before this practice session, Jet looked back up at Tyra.

“I think someone does want me dead,” she muttered. She gave Tyra a warning look, glancing around. “So does Trazen. But you have to know you’re risking my life by even asking me that... much less by expecting me to give you a real answer.”

Tyra blinked at her, maybe in surprise that Jet had been honest.

Then a smile stole up the corners of her mouth.

“What? Because of Anslom?” she said then, refolding her arms across her chest.

Anslom was Tyra’s Nirreth boyfriend, and also her Rings trainer. He also used to be a member of the Nirreth Royal Guard.

“Partly him, yeah,” Jet said.

“You think he’d go running off to the new Royals? Tell them what we’ve been talking about?”

Jet glanced around them in reflex once more then shrugged, drawing the stone in another long, smooth scrape along the edge of Black’s blade.

“The thought crossed my mind,” she said, still in a murmur.

Tyra nodded at her thoughtfully for a moment, then crouched down, as if she were doing something over the blade. From only a few inches away, she met Jet’s gaze.

“You’ve got more friends here than you think, Jet,” she said quietly, giving her a meaningful stare. “And humans got more friends among the Nirreth than you seem to realize, too.” Smiling faintly, she let her voice grow even lower before adding, “The venom thing. It goes two ways, you know? The Nirreth, they’re a lot more vulnerable to it than you seem to get... miracle samurai or no. Anslom is a true friend... but even if he wasn’t, you don’t have to fear me, Jet.”

Jet flinched, feeling her eyes widen.

Had Trazen put her up to this? Tyra had just used almost the exact same words that the Ringmaster had used in the alley that night. More to the point, were they lying to her? If not, how had Richter, Laksri and Anaze never told her about this?

Even if it was true, she wasn’t really sure what to do with the information, since she didn’t really know how it worked.

Tyra seemed to be waiting for Jet to finish reacting to her words. Then the other woman’s voice grew even lower, her eyes holding more meaning.

“Trazen wanted me to talk to you about this, Jet,” she said softly. “He asked me to talk to you about it, okay? He seemed to think you wouldn’t believe him, given who he is to you. But he was telling the truth... it’s how things are with me an Anslom. They’ve been like that with us almost from the beginning...”

Jet flinched again, hiding her disbelief badly.

Then she fought to hide a different reaction, realizing Trazen might have stung Tyra to tell her this. Or maybe Trazen had talked to Anslom.

She had to fight not to ask Tyra which it was.

“It’s not just us being drugged, Jet... it’s them, too,” Tyra whispered.

The other woman took the stone away from Jet’s hands as she finished, straightening back to her full height. Jet watched, a puzzled frown on her lips as Tyra bent to her boot, pulling out a knife of her own. Still watching Jet’s face, Tyra used the whet stone along her own blade, sharpening the edge in a few strong strokes with the stone.

Jet just watched her do it, silent.

“...I can show you things, Jet,” Tyra said. “But not here.”

Jet continued to stare at her, still at a loss of words.

“...Speaking of which,” Tyra said, winking at her. “Given what I just said, and the challenge match you’ve got coming up, you might want to experiment a little on your own, Jet. Have a nice, friendly chat with your pet Nirreth. I’ve seen the way he looks at you... even when he’s trying to hide it. Anslom has, too. He thinks you should talk to him. He thinks maybe the four of us should talk together. Because, really, Jet, if it’s not you, it might be me up there. Maybe it’s not too late to call this thing off... or find a way to even the odds.”

Giving a meaningful glance at the giant woman who was now firing a virtual shotgun at virtual, bat-winged flying lizards, Tyra arched an eyebrow at Jet.

“We’re going to a party tonight,” she said, switching topics without missing a beat. “You should come, Jet. Bring Trazen... he looks like he could use an excuse to relax.”

Running the stone over her knife a last time, she smiled again.

Without warning, she threw the whet stone sharply back to Jet.

Jet caught it, one-handed, in reflex.

“See?” Tyra said, smiling wider. “Teamwork. That sells tickets too. Tell Trazen that, the next time he stings you.” Winking, she added, “Like tonight. At the party. I can show you some more tricks, if you like... better ones.”

Jet frowned, wondering if she was understanding Tyra as well as she thought.

Seeing the look on the other woman’s face, she decided she was.

Understanding her, that is.

She still couldn’t believe Trazen had gone to her, that he’d asked Tyra to convince her that what he’d told her about the venom was true. Why? Why would he do that?

Why the hell did Trazen do anything?

Jet didn’t say anything aloud, though. Instead she continued to crouch there, her sword, Black, still lying across her lap as she watched Tyra walk away, heading back towards the changing rooms and showers that lived under the stadium. Clutching the whet stone in one hand, Jet shook her head, going back to sharpening her sword with a bemused frown on her lips.

One thing was for sure... she’d been right about Tyra.

She never should have listened to Richter and Anaze.

Her frown deepened as she knelt there, though.

Now she just had to figure out how to drag Trazen to a party.

TRAZEN DIDN’T REACT the way Jet expected.

He didn’t react at all, really... not at first.

Coiling and uncoiling his tail behind him as he listened to her speak, Trazen stared at her like he didn’t understand her once she’d finished saying what she came to say.

Moreover, as he continued to stare at her, Jet got the impression he hadn’t yet recovered from the fact that she’d walked into his private study in the first place.

He seemed uncertain how to react to her presence there... inside one of his sanctuary zones.

It had taken her over a half-hour to even find him. He’d been in the furthest wing of his U-shaped house, in the room with all of the wall monitors.

She’d only glimpsed the room from the doorway once before and had never actually ventured inside, not beyond his first, brusque tour of his estate and his description of this room and its purpose. He’d told her back then that it was one of his primary workspaces for the Rings and where he coordinated with the other Rings operators and pullers.

He’d told her not to come in here without him. But since he was actually here, standing in front of her, she didn’t feel like she’d violated any of his rules.

Anyway, she’d knocked. He’d summoned her.

Regardless, he’d looked more than a little taken aback when she walked in.

That might have been why he didn’t interrupt her at first when Jet launched into her description of the conversation she’d had with Tyra... in truncated form and minus some of the meaning-laden looks... and ended on the invitation they’d both received to the party that night. It might also have explained why Trazen spent most of that time looking behind her, as if expecting someone else to walk in from the other side of that closed door.

Either way, when Jet finished speaking, he didn’t react at first.

When he did, his words surprised her.

“Yes,” he said, blunt.

Jet flinched, mostly in surprise. “Yes? Yes, what?”

“Yes, I asked her to speak to you.”

Jet frowned. “Well, I figured that. What about the party?”

“We will go. Send word that we accept. Or have Lulara do it.”

“No, I’ll do it.”

Jet was still staring at him though, bewildered, when he looked away from her.

He swished his tail behind him in an unmistakably dismissive fashion, focusing his dark, gold-flecked eyes back on the monitors, his expression concentrated. She couldn’t help noticing he wore a long, sleeveless shirt that showed off perfectly sculpted arms, corded with muscle and nearly black they were such a deep blue color.

When Jet still didn’t move, Trazen spoke again, but didn’t look at her.

“Shut the door on your way out,” he said.

His voice was blunt, but polite.

Jet didn’t argue.

The truth was, she wanted to go.

Normally, Jet wasn’t big on parties inside the Green Zone. Really, since she had never been to a party before she came to the Green Zone, maybe she simply didn’t like parties. She wasn’t big on any of the fancy Nirreth social events, but she wanted to go to this one.

She wanted to know more about what Tyra had been proposing.

She told Trazen the bare bones of what Tyra said, even if she didn’t fill in any of the gaps around what she’d implied. She did tell him that Tyra and Anslom would be open to discussing an alternate scenario for Jet’s challenge match against Bukka.

She wondered whether, what and how much Trazen read behind those words.

She also wondered whether he intended to sting her that night, either before or during the party. It had already crossed Jet’s mind that Tyra explaining the venom thing to her might be Trazen’s roundabout way of telling Jet that he’d go back to stinging her if she learned more about how the venom actually worked. If Jet could convince Trazen she wouldn’t get overwhelmed when he stung her, maybe Trazen would agree to do it even without the antidote serum.

She hoped that was it. If she could convince Trazen she wouldn’t lose control, maybe she could finally get some answers. Maybe he would even go back to stinging her regularly again, and talking to her for hours where she could ask him real questions.

She was assuming the antidote serum was still off the table.

By then, Jet had heard similar things from other humans in Trazen’s household. Isreti made getting those things more or less impossible now. He’d also shut down the human and Nirreth black markets, at least those operating in full view in the center.

Jet had been talking the most to the brown-haired woman who had been kind to her when she first arrived there. Jet now knew that woman was named Gretel, and that she was married to the one they called The Professor, whose real name was Marshal. Both of them seemed to think highly of Trazen, which had confused Jet at first, but now mostly made her curious.

A larger part of her didn’t want to think about how she felt on the personal level... not about Trazen or about Laksri. On the strategic level, she badly wanted Trazen to sting her, preferably enough times that she could get some real answers.

She wanted to know what the plan was.

She wanted to know more about what happened after Laksri left Astet.

She also wondered if Trazen and Laksri were still in touch, and whether Trazen was in touch with Anaze, if not Richter himself. She wondered who Trazen was working for... and what those “vows” were that Trazen referenced. She also wondered what Laksri and Trazen’s relationship truly was, and why Trazen seemed to be taking orders from Laksri now... or at least not actively ignoring his wishes. She remembered the feeling of being watched in that restaurant in old Santa Fe, and wanted to know what that had been about, as well.

The questions hung out there, driving her crazy.

In the past, Trazen always stung her prior to social engagements. Most of those had been formal, however, and included members of the Nirreth elite. He’d also drugged himself prior to stinging her those times... or Jet presumed he had, since he hadn’t tried to sleep with her afterwards, not even when she’d asked him for sex.

Jet had her doubts this would be that kind of gathering, though.

She had no idea if that would change things for Trazen or not... in terms of him feeling obligated to sting her for appearances’ sake. At the center parties, if Jet showed up without being stung, it would raise a lot of questions.

Her mind spun around that and other questions for the rest of the afternoon, as well as for the hour or so she spent getting ready for the party after she swam with Gretel, Marshal and a few of the other human slaves. She’d been trying to decide how much she could tell Marshal and Gretel, too. So far, she’d been erring on the side of caution until she knew them better.

She was still thinking when the summoning tone went off in her sleeping quarters.

She gave the answering word in Nargili without looking up.

She sat on the edge of a long couch, finishing up with hooking the buckle of her second, stone-encrusted sandal as the door began to open. She hadn’t yet gotten to her feet when Trazen walked swiftly inside, his tail lashing behind him as he looked her over.

He looked at her for what seemed like an unusally long time. His expression didn’t change, however, so Jet had no idea what the look meant.

He glanced behind him before he spoke.

“I could not get it,” he said, blunt, looking her in the eye that time. “I know you think I am lying about this, but I could not do it. The channels are still being watched. The markets are shut down entirely now...”

A little taken aback, Jet just stared at him for a beat. Then she frowned.

“So?” she said. “What does that mean? We’re not going?”

He didn’t answer at first, or even change expression.

“What does she want?” he said then. “Your friend. Tyra?”

Jet fought not to make a crack about Tyra might be more his “friend” than hers. Instead, she glanced around at the walls of the room, much as he had. Meeting Trazen’s gaze when she finished, she kept her expression flat.

“I don’t know,” she said. “Not for sure.”

“But you think we should go?” he said, his voice still neutral.

Realizing it was a real question, Jet fought the surprise off her face a second time. “Yes,” she said. “I could go without you, though. If you don’t want to go, I mean. They asked for you... but I could make an excuse.”

“Who asked for me? Her and her Nirreth?” he said.

Jet assumed he must mean Anslom.

She shrugged. “Yes. I mean... I think so. I only talked to Tyra. But she mentioned him wanting us both to come. She said he thought ‘the four of us’ should talk.”

“And you do not think they will try to kill us?” Trazen said, his voice still blunt.

Jet couldn’t stop her eyes from widening.

“Do you think so?” she said, unthinking. “Is that a real concern?”

He lifted an eyebrow, swishing his tail in impatience.

“I did not talk to her, Jet,” he said.

He continued to look at her, his face unmoving.

Now, however, it felt like he was waiting.

Still fighting disbelief, Jet looked away, shaking her head. Rising to her feet from the edge of the couch, she put her hands on her hips, her mind still whirling around his question, but with more concentration that time.

“No,” she said, decisive. She met Trazen’s gaze. “No, I don’t think so. I’ve got no proof, just a feeling... but I think she’s scared. I think she thinks once I’m gone, she’s probably next. So she took a chance. Her companion might be worried about the same.”

Trazen frowned. Again, he glanced behind him.

Then he motioned with his head for Jet to come towards him. Once she took a step in his direction however, he turned around and walked to the closed door, pressing the indentation in the panel to open it. So apparently, he wanted her to leave the room with him.

Barely hesitating, she followed him through the door when it opened.

She continued to follow as he led her down the wide, high-ceilinged corridor that led to the main entrance of his estate.

As they walked, she noticed that Trazen had already dressed himself in Nirreth “going out” wear, despite his grilling before they’d left the room. He wore a midnight blue tunic a few shades lighter than his skin and adorned with gold thread. The sleeves were longer than what he’d worn that afternoon in his study, but still showed his long, muscular arms past the middle of his biceps. Under the tunic, he wore black leggings that hung more like pants and close-toed sandals of a lighter blue. A blue headscarf wrapped around his head and hung down between his shoulder blades, twisted into a snake-like shape behind him.

He wore the same copper-colored chain around his neck too, with a sapphire blue stone in a pendant hanging from the nadir of the loop. It was the same chain and pendant Jet had been seeing on him since she got back from Astet.

Until now, it hadn’t occurred to her to question its presence there.

Laksri told her that when Nirreth wore pendants like that, it signified they had a companion. Usually, it meant they had an exclusive companion.

It only now occurred to Jet that the necklace might be about her.

Before that first Rings match since she’d been back on Earth, she’d been too loaded up on venom to question much of anything. Since then, she’d been a little preoccupied by the thought of Bukka being used to assasinate her in the Rings, of Laksri still being alive, of Richter having her family and Trazen not being anything she’d been led to believe to think about much else.

She stared at the pendant now though.

She stared at it hard enough that Trazen noticed and frowned at her.

“Give me your hand,” he said, gruff, holding one of his out.

Jet didn’t answer, but did as he said.

Neither of them slowed their strides as she clasped his jointed fingers in hers.

MORE HUMANS AND Nirreth were at the party than what Jet expected.

Specifically more humans... a lot more humans.

In fact, the the whole party ended up being nothing like what Jet had pictured in her mind before coming here. It was nothing like any of the parties she’d attended since coming to live in the center of the Green Zone.

Looking around the warehouse-sized space with its looping light fixtures and flaming torches below an open roof, she saw at least a few hundred humans, talking and laughing louder than she’d ever experienced in such a large gathering. Looking around at all of them in wonder, it struck her that maybe humans were unnaturally quiet around the Nirreth.

Maybe they’d been unnaturally quiet in the skag pits, too.

Only the bar and one of the pools lived under an actual roof.

The rest of the party guests scattered through winding gardens dotted with trees and fountains and statues, so definitely more Nirreth in design than human––although again, nothing like the houses Jet had visited before. The sprawling grounds were located in a different part of the Green Zone altogether, although not in the Santa Fe area she’d visited with Trazen.

Instead, they’d taken a trolley up the side of a mountain. The house was on a slope, too, with steppes cut into the earth that broke the grounds into different levels.

Normally, Jet would have liked being outdoors at night. With all of the people and the thumping music, however, she felt disoriented, even though she refused the repeated offers of drinks and other substances since they’d walked through the door.

Most of the humans at the party definitely fell into the ex-skag category, in terms of body type and ethnic features. It made Jet realize how familiar she’d gotten with some of the more lab-grown varieties of human that seemed to be popping up more and more in the center. She felt strangely more alert around humans like this. They were wiry, tough-looking, mostly dark-haired and dark-skinned. They had something sharper behind their eyes.

They could survive outside the Green Zone dome.

Maybe that was it, they looked like they could take care of themselves.

Many had come without Nirreth owners. Even so, Jet got the sense they were more than willing to hook up with the several dozen unpaired Nirreth who also showed up... and definitely comfortable getting stung by the right one. In fact, a lot of them seemed to be there looking for Nirreth companionship, if only for the evening.

A number of those same humans looked Trazen over, Jet couldn’t help noticing.

She suspected some of them recognized him from broadcasts around the Rings, and for the first time it really sank in that Trazen was a celebrity too. He was definitely more of a celebrity than Laksri had been prior to his being named First Son. Until recently, Jet always thought of Trazen as a kind of human-hating bully…if not an outright psychopath and a killer.

It hadn’t really occurred to her that he would have his own fan club.

It also hadn’t occurred to her that he’d have a lot of humans throwing themselves at him, simply because of his status as Ringmaster.

Well, she thought, looking over his body and face. Maybe not only for that reason.

He definitely fell into the good-looking camp for Nirreth, now that she’d adjusted to seeing their features and bodies that way. His gold-flecked eyes held an intensity that she couldn’t help finding fascinating... and while she knew some of that was the venom, that wasn’t all of it. He had a well-formed mouth and jaw, symmetrical features, a muscular body and deep blue skin that shimmered under the dimmer lights of the warehouse-like space. He also carried himself as a fighter, which seemed to be an attraction for human females no matter what the race of the male.

Either way, Jet noticed more and longer stares aimed at Trazen than at her.

She got some jealous scowls, too.

More than a few females and at least one male frowned pointedly at the pendant Trazen wore on the copper-colored chain, right before they stared aggressively at her. She saw a number of them studying her face with shrewd eyes, as well…likely noting the lack of venom in her and speculating as to what it meant.

Plenty of Nirreth and humans recognized Jet too, of course.

She got a few requests for autographs, and a few Nirreth males watched her with swishing tails, studying her face for signs of venom too. But it wasn’t the normal center crowd, Jet couldn’t help noticing. No one rushed her or tried to take clippings of her hair or even tried to touch her inappropriately. No one tried to touch either of them until she and Trazen approached the bar, and then it was a human rubbing up against Trazen, smiling into his face.

“Looking for fresh blood tonight, Ringmaster?” the dress-wearing girl asked him.

She looked young to Jet, even younger than her, so maybe seventeen. She also wore a lot of make-up, and shoes with heels so high they made her balance teeter. From the glassiness of her possibly contact-colored eyes, she was at least a little drunk.

Jet stiffened when the girl smirked at her blatantly, pressing deeper against Trazen’s side before she looked back up at him.

Trazen didn’t move out of the way, Jet noticed.

“Well?” the girl slurred, batting her eyelashes up at him. “What do you think, Ringmaster?”

Jet fought not to roll her eyes. She directed her words at Trazen, disentangling his hand from her arm. “I’m getting a drink. Do you want anything?”

Looking over, he narrowed his eyes at her, flicking his tail behind him before he wrapped it around her waist.

“I’ll come with you,” he said.

She didn’t answer, but felt her jaw harden. She was surprised to feel Trazen’s tail tighten around her. He didn’t speak until they’d walked away from the girl altogether.

“Are you jealous?” he said, his voice neutral.

She looked over at him, fighting not to snap at him. Forcing herself silent when she saw the scrutiny in his eyes, she shrugged.

“Hardly. I’m just not in the mood to watch.”

When she met his gaze next, he frowned at her, pulling her closer to him with his tail.

“Are you telling the truth?” he said.

“Do you want me to be jealous?” she returned shortly, glancing down at his tail before she looked up at him again. “I thought you were doing the First Son’s bidding these days? Doesn’t that make me off-limits?”

She knew Trazen would know which First Son she meant. Even so, she was startled at the anger that abruptly hardened his expression. He released her with his tail before she’d recovered from her surprise at the intensity she saw in his dark eyes.

“Why are we here, Jet?” he said, his voice cold.

“I thought you wanted to come,” she said.

He just looked at her for a moment. Then he exhaled loudly, ending on a near-growl. Before she could say anything more, he walked away from her, lashing his tail behind him as he aimed his feet for the table where they seemed to be dispensing drinks.

Before Jet could decide if she should follow him, someone grabbed her arm from the other side. They grabbed her strongly enough that Jet stiffened all over again, falling into a near fighting stance before she turned.

She found herself facing Tyra.

Tyra wearing a lot of make-up and a short, shimmery dress that was blood red. Jet almost didn’t recognize her at first, but after a blink she found herself making out her dark eyes and the shape of her smile, even under the dark red lipstick.

“Whoa there, cowgirl...” Tyra said, grinning at her. “Damn, you’re jumpy. Second time today I thought you were going to punch me in the face...”

Without waiting, she handed Jet a drink, a pale blue, frothy thing that Jet recognized. It was some kind of berry thing mixed with water and a few other juices, but the Nirreth fermented it, making it almost like a strong wine.

“Thanks,” she muttered, flushing a little.

Tyra waved her off, grinning. “I’ve got to play the host a little bit, right? I invited you.”

She looked Jet over as Jet took a sip of the drink. As Jet lowered the glass, coughing at little at how strong it was, Tyra smiled again, whistling softly at her.

“Damn, girl. You clean up good. Better than a sense-suit.”

Jet glanced down at her own clothes, folding her arms self-consciously without letting go of the glass. She’d worn a dress, one almost as short as the one Tyra wore, although Jet’s was sky blue and slightly less form-fitting than the other Ring fighter’s. Jet wore make-up as well, although she’d almost forgotten about it since they’d gotten here.

“Yeah, well,” Jet said, forcing a smile. She lifted the glass in a mock toast, taking another sip of the blue liquid. “It’s a party, right?”

“Is Trazen here?” Tyra said.

Lowering her glass a second time, Jet glanced up as a male Nirreth sidled up to Tyra. It took her a few seconds to recognize him as Anslom. She hadn’t seen him outside of trainings before either, and looking him over now in a dark purple, velvet-textured tunic and black leggings, she realized he was another good-looking male Nirreth. The fact had escaped her before now, if only because it hadn’t occurred to Jet to notice.

“Hey, eyes to yourself,” Tyra said, nudging Jet’s arm playfully.

Despite the teasing tone, Jet heard a real warning in her words.

Before she could decide how to react, Anslom wrapped his tail around Tyra’s waist, purring in his chest. The sound carried flavors of both humor and desire, both prominent enough that Jet averted her gaze, refolding her arms tighter.

Taking another drink of the blue liquid, she fought with whether to apologize, confused by the idea for some reason.

In the end, she decided to ignore it.

“He’s here,” she said, answering Tyra’s question about Trazen belatedly.

She scanned faces in the crowd, if only for an excuse to look away from Tyra and her Nirreth boyfriend, who were now looking at one another and probably talking via the venom. Tyra had at least a few good stings in her system, Jet figured, given how glassy her eyes were. She carried her own drink, too, although it wasn’t blue like the one she’d given Jet.

Neither of them looked over at Jet’s words.

Jet glanced in the direction she’d last seen Trazen, still fighting discomfort.

“He’s over there, I think,” she said, motioning vaguely with the hand holding the glass. She craned her head, motioning with her head next as she fingered the edge of her glass. “Probably surrounded by his groupies...” she muttered.

Tyra laughed, finally looking over.

“Someone’s jealous,” she smiled. “Is that why you were scoping my guy?”

“I wasn’t scoping,” Jet mumbled, feeling her face grow hotter.

Tyra bumped her with her arm, laughing. “Don’t worry, honey. I’ve seen who you stare at... just like I’ve seen who stares at you.” Her eyes grew shrewder again, more skag-like. “I guess you got over your other boy, eh? Laks? Not like you had much choice.”

Jet felt her scowl deepen.

“Hey, hey... just giving you a hard time,” Tyra laughed. “I know how it is.”

“No,” Jet said, giving her a stare. “You don’t.”

Tyra nodded in a diplomatic way, but continued to smile, her eyes holding a knowing look that irritated Jet even more. Before she could decide what to say, she saw Tyra’s gaze refocus, staring at someone who stood behind Jet, in the direction of the drink dispensors.

“Not that I blame you on the Trazen front,” Tyra murmured. “He’s not bad to look at, is he? Clearly, we’re not the only two who think so.”

Anslom let out a low growl at Tyra’s words.

Jet barely heard that, though.

She’d already followed the other woman’s stare.

She found Trazen on the other end of it, looking a lot less annoyed than the last time she’d seen him. His jointed fingers wrapped around a squat glass as well, although his was filled with a pale green liquid rather than the blue one Jet held. She watched him bow slightly to the person who’d just approached him, one of those subtle Nirreth smiles on his narrow lips. Trazen didn’t move away when that same person embraced him. Moving his hand with the glass out of the way to keep from spilling it, he coiled his other hand into her hair, stroking it before he let go.

Jet found herself focusing on the woman there as her jaw hardened.

Something about her was almost... familiar.

Obviously Trazen knew her, but Jet found herself thinking she might know her, too. She had trouble placing that familiarity, though.

“Shall we go interrupt?” Tyra said, her voice holding that knowing smile again.

“No,” Jet said.

Tyra laughed, but Jet didn’t look over.

Knowing she’d already been caught staring, she also didn’t bother to look away.

Instead, she fought to keep her expression neutral while her eyes remained on Trazen and the woman clutching his arm. She couldn’t help noticing that the blond-haired woman wore a short dress as well, one shorter than hers and dark green. Her dress was low-cut in the back, baring her unmarked skin nearly to the base of her spine. Unlike most of the women here, she didn’t look like a fighter, or even much like a skag.

The woman smiled as she talked to him, her hand small and pale on his dark arm.

“No,” Jet said again, her voice more subdued. She gave Tyra a taut smile. “He doesn’t get out much. We should leave him alone.”

Even to her, her voice sounded cold.

“So?” Tyra said humorously. “Why do you think you’d be bothering him exactly, Jet? Why would he mind his companion approaching him?”

Jet looked back at Trazen and the strange woman, even as it hit her suddenly why she recognized her. She had seen her before. In fact, she’d seen her with Trazen. Jet now remembered the woman’s face and body from one of those expensive-seeming restaurants in the center, probably an outing following one of her Rings matches.

It might even have been the first time she’d met Trazen... or maybe the second or third time.

It was definitely back when she still was still owned by the Royals.

Back then, Trazen always seemed to have half-naked women on his arm. All of them had been beautiful. All of them had been stoned to the gills on his venom. As a result, it was hard to remember particulars on which time it had been that Jet saw this one.

She was fairly certain she had, though.

She recognized her wide eyes, even if the woman had changed a lot.

Also, although Jet didn’t remember the exact timing of their first meeting, she remembered that this woman had been wearing almost no clothes the first time she saw her, too. She’d been high on venom of course, but under that, Jet remembered thinking that the woman had looked deeply unhappy. At the time, Jet had assumed Trazen was the source of that unhappiness.

Watching her chatting away with Trazen now, her hand wrapped affectionately around his muscular arm, she had her doubts, though.

Hell, she almost couldn’t believe it was the same person.

“Didn’t they used to...” Jet began. Realizing she’d spoken aloud, Jet frowned, shutting her mouth even as she glanced at Tyra.

“...Do you recognize her?” she amended, taking another drink from her glass. “That woman he’s with?”

Tyra shrugged, taking a sip of her own drink, sucking up the ruby-red liquid through a straw she held between two fingers. Jet noticed only then that Anslom had wandered off, and now stood talking to two other Nirreth.

“I don’t know her,” Tyra said, swallowing the liquid she’d sucked into her mouth. “Why? Is she one of his orphans?”

Jet tensed, right before she jerked her eyes off Trazen again.

She looked Tyra over, fighting the frown out of her voice.

“Orphans?” she said. “What does that mean?”

Tyra smiled, shaking her head perceptibly, a small smile teasing her lips. “Don’t tell me you believe his center shtick? I thought you were supposed to be smart, Tetsuo.”

“Shtick?” Jet pronounced the word carefully. “Is that a Nargili word?”

Tyra shook her head, rolling her eyes a little. “Trazen’s got to keep up appearances too, you know,” she said. “Part of that is being a badass, given who and what he is. Part of being a badass is having little regard for life... especially human life.” Tyra shrugged again, motioning around the lawn with her fingers clutching the straw. “Out here, a lot of people know the truth. Being a decent person doesn’t have the same stigma out here. The opposite, really.”

“The truth?” Jet continued to stare at her blankly. “The truth about what?”

Tyra sighed, her voice almost impatient now. “You really don’t know?”

“No,” Jet said, fighting the edge creeping into her voice. “Are you going to tell me what you’re talking about? Or not?”

Tyra exhaled sharply, her eyes still holding a faint impatience.

“Trazen,” she said, motioning in his direction with her fingers clutching the straw. “He buys humans, Jet.”

Jet frowned. “Well, obviously I know that––”

“No,” Tyra said, cutting her off and shaking her head. “I don’t mean as slaves. He buys them away from other Nirreth. It’s like a pet project of his.”

At Jet’s blank look, now edging into real annoyance, Tyra sighed again.

“You know…humans who’ve had a tough time of it,” she explained. “He buys them. Parades them around the center for awhile. Plays the asshole with them in slave-wear and chains or whatever else... then a few weeks later, when they’ve got the drugs out of their system or are healed up from whatever else is wrong with them, he lets them go. Cleans them up. Releases them back into the wild.”

At Jet’s incredulous expression, Tyra shrugged.

“He keeps it quiet. He has to. Like I said…he’s got a reputation to keep up, like everyone else. Especially now... with some of those hard-ass racists in the center and Isreti’s fanatics wanting to rewrite all the laws. Even before he had to be careful though, under the Queen. None of his slaves are allowed to talk to the media. Once they’re free, they can’t show their faces in the center again. So they move out here.”

Tyra motioned around them once more, at the grounds and the visible buildings outside the tree-dotted field. “...They’re anonymous here. No one cares. Well...” she amended, thinking. “Most don’t care. He doesn’t really advertise it out here, either.”

There was a silence while Jet tried to absorb this, to even make sense of it.

Tyra was still watching her face when she added, “It’s pretty unusual for a Nirreth, you know. To risk their necks like that, especially given the political climate right now. Usually only the religious ones do things like that... and there aren’t a lot of religious Nirreth left these days. Those who are religious keep pretty quiet about it.”

Something about the way she said it made Jet think Tyra was fishing.

But fishing for what? Intel on Trazen? Why? Was she implying Trazen might be religious? The thought bewildered Jet a little, as did Tyra’s interest in Trazen in the first place. Even if he was religious––whatever that even meant to a Nirreth––how on Earth would Jet know anything about that?

Pretending not to notice the question mark at the end of Tyra’s words, Jet took a drink of the blue liquid without responding.

Still watching Jet’s face, Tyra smiled, her voice puzzled.

“They call them Trazen’s orphans,” she said. “You really didn’t know about this? He stings you all the time, doesn’t he? How could you not know?”

Jet didn’t answer, but felt her jaw harden.

Oh. That.

That’s why Tyra thought Jet would know.

Jet looked back at Trazen, fighting the disbelief out of her expression when she saw the female human’s arm wrapped around his waist.

At her continued silence, Tyra eventually seemed to give up.

“Well,” she shrugged. “You should talk to his other slaves. I hear he’s got a few orphs in his household still.” She sipped at her straw, glancing at where Trazen stood with the woman in the dark green dress. “He usually lets them go. They come out here. Work. Get boyfriends. But a few opt to stay with him.” She winked at Jet, her smile growing mischievous. “Maybe they’re in love with him? What do you think, Jet? You’re an orphan now too, aren’t you? I hear he saved your ass on Astet...”

Jet pursed her lips, fighting not to look at Trazen again.

Some part of her still struggled to believe any part of Tyra’s words.

Had Trazen put her up to this, too? Had someone else? Because Jet never heard a single whisper of Trazen doing anything remotely altruistic to humans the whole time she’d known who he was. Laksri never hinted of anything like this. Neither had Richter. Trazen was a known racist. He was probably the most famous racist Jet knew from the center, at least before the current First Son took power. Laksri told her more than once that Trazen was dangerous, that he hurt his human consorts, or was strongly suspected of hurting them.

Moreover, First Son Isreti certainly seemed to see Trazen as being of like mind with him on the subject of humans, and Isreti had been murdering humans since he took power.

Tyra smiled again, shaking her head.

“Aw, girl. You really don’t know much, do you?” she said sympathetically.

“Why?” Jet said, her jaw still clenched. “Why would he do this?”

Tyra shrugged, her smile growing cold. “I don’t know. Maybe he’s not an asshole? Not all Nirreth are assholes, you know.”

Jet studied her eyes openly. “Then why wouldn’t he tell me that?”

“Dunno,” Tyra said. “Maybe he’s trying to keep you out of it. Maybe he’s trying to protect you, Jet. You’re under a lot of scrutiny, you know... same as him. And our thoughts and whatever else still get scanned, being in the Rings.”

“Protect me.” Jet thought about Tyra’s words. She shook her head, still fighting to make sense of any of it. “No. No, that doesn’t make any sense. Isreti... the new First Son...”

“––Will find out,” Tyra finished, her voice warning. “It’s just a matter of time, Jet.”

Tyra’s eyes and voice grew deadly serious when Jet turned.

“His people will find out soon,” Tyra added, softer. “And Isreti won’t be happy. Just like they’ll find out that my guy, Anslom, fought with the previous Royal Guard when Isreti and his people attacked the center.” Pausing to let her words sink in, Tyra repeated, “It’s just a matter of time, Jet. For all of us. They might have spies here tonight, for all we know. I hear Isreti’s got spies all over the city now... human and Nirreth. I think most of them are still concentrated in the center and that human area, Kabasi, but even if that’s true, it won’t be true for long.”

Tyra paused, as if waiting for her words to sink in. Shrugging, she added, “...Trazen’s not the only one with a clock ticking over his head, Jet. We all hear it.”

Jet frowned, turning over Tyra’s words.

A frown still etched her face when she looked back at Trazen, watching as the human continued to clutch his waist, laughing at something he’d said.

The look in her eyes as she gazed at Trazen’s face was...

Adoration. She looked at Trazen like she adored him.

Jet’s more logical side reasoned that it might be gratitude of course, given what Tyra claimed Trazen had done for her. The woman might have a crush on him as a part of that. She might even think she was in love with him, if Tyra was right in implying that a lot of his “orphans” got confused on that point. At the very least, she appeared to care about him, if only as a friend.

But it wasn’t just friendship, Jet thought, watching the human gaze up at his face. That definitely wasn’t a friendly-only like of look.

It hit Jet suddenly that the other woman had probably slept with him.

Whatever Tyra said about his motives for parading around his so-called orphans, Jet had no reason to believe Trazen wouldn’t have slept with her. The woman clearly was willing, and it didn’t look like Trazen had stung her.

Well, not tonight. Not yet.

A flush of anger hit Jet at the thought, before she’d even considered why.

Tyra must have been watching her face.

She laughed.

“Someone’s really turning green,” she teased, nudging Jet’s bare arm with her own. Tyra smiled at Jet more warmly when she turned, motioning towards Trazen with her head. “Go on. Go get him. He’s probably just doing it to wind you up, anyway.”

“I doubt that,” Jet muttered.

Tyra snorted a soft laugh. “Well, go get him anyway.” Her voice dropped, holding a darker meaning. “...We should talk. I’ll get Anslom.”

When Jet glanced back at her, Tyra lifted an eyebrow.

“Don’t look so surprised, Jet,” she chided softly. “I told you I wanted to talk. And don’t worry,” she added. “We know these people. They’ve swept the grounds twice in the last few hours, so it’s safe... relatively speaking. We can talk more or less freely.”

Jet felt her doubts return, even as it occurred to her that Trazen might have been right to be suspicious of Tyra and Anslom. Jet had no reason to trust them either, not really. Just being human was hardly enough to qualify Tyra as an ally.

Maybe that whole spiel just now was just another pile of lies, meant to get intel off her.

Hiding another scowl, Jet decided she wanted to know, whatever it was.

For the same reason, she decided to do as Tyra said, and go get Trazen.

Without letting herself think about how it might look, she walked across the lawn with brisk strides, gripping her glass in one hand and balancing on her high-heeled shoes without looking down. She walked right up to Trazen and the human pressed up against his side, fighting to keep her expression neutral as she stopped a meter or so away.

When Trazen didn’t look over right away, Jet cleared her throat, causing both of them to turn. She saw the woman’s eyes widen when she saw her. Clearly, the woman recognized Jet, too... although likely from the Rings, not from Trazen.

Jet looked at both of them, then at Trazen, feeling her face warm.

“Can I talk to you for a minute?” she said to him, as politely as she could manage.

She spoke in English, not really thinking about whether it was rude until the woman blinked, giving her an even more blank, puzzled look.

Jet switched to Nargili as it occurred to her the human might not know English, especially if she’d been raised in the center. Jet had been told that some Nirreth households forbade the use and teaching of English by humans, especially if the Nirreth family didn’t know it. Trazen spoke it well, even compared to most humans, so Jet had forgotten all that.

“Can I borrow him?” Jet said in Nargili, making an effort to smile that time.

She did her best to sound friendly to the other woman too, determined not to be a jerk because this stranger had a thing for her so-called companion. After all, she and Trazen weren’t involved. She had zero rights over him, whether he wore a pendant or not. He’d never touched her, not apart from those few kisses in Laksri’s recovery room. That happened months ago, and hadn’t been much, even at the time.

Anyway, he’d been pretty high on venom that day.

Seeing the faint tension on the other woman’s face, Jet smiled more warmly.

“I’ll return him, I promise,” she said, a lame attempt at humor.

Trazen disentangled himself from the woman’s hands and arm.

His expression grew more taut not less as he turned, walking towards Jet with a deceptively lazy flick of his tail. Jet didn’t even bother to try to read the expression on his face. At this point, she was beginning to think his acting skills were beyond any ability she might have to see past them. She’d never once been right about him... not once, in all this time. She’d pretty much given up on knowing anything he might be thinking, at least until he decided to tell her the truth.

Assuming he ever did.

Something in the scrutiny in his dark eyes made her think he’d noticed a difference in her, too. Like maybe he knew she’d learned something new about him.

“Tyra wants to talk to us,” Jet said, once he’d gotten close enough. She switched back to English, without really thinking about that either. “Her and Anslom.”

Trazen’s gaze sharpened still more.

He glanced back at the woman in the green dress, then faced Jet a second time. His eyes continued to hold a near-wariness as he looked at her. She saw him focus on the glass she held in one hand, right before his eyes returned to hers. He didn’t look away from her face even when he addressed the other woman. His voice came out pleasant, almost warm, but the look he trained on Jet continued to hold that denser wariness.

“I’m required elsewhere,” he said to the woman in Nargili. “I’ll find you later, Chloe, if that’s all right with you?”

The woman in the green dress looked at Jet, obviously a bit taken aback at who she was, but now trying to cover that in friendliness too.

Jet could only assume that Trazen neglected to tell her he’d come here with someone.

She could hear the woman’s embarrassment in her words, what might have been an apology, likely because she’d been touching Trazen when Jet walked up. This Chloe must have seen images of them on the television. She would assume what the rest of them assumed.

“Of course,” Chloe said, still smiling a little too widely at Jet. “Don’t let me keep you. I just wanted to say hello. I should go find my friends, anyway...”

“I will find you,” Trazen assured her. He didn’t take his gaze off Jet as he said it. “...Before we leave, I will find you, Chloe. I promise.”

Jet felt her jaw harden, hearing the sincerity in his voice.

She wondered if that was deliberate.

She couldn’t be certain if she’d understood the meaning there correctly or not. She couldn’t even be sure if the message was meant more for the other woman or for her. As she returned Trazen’s stare, however, Jet decided it was safer to assume she had understood him. She averted her eyes, fighting another flush of anger.

Yes, it was definitely safer to assume she’d understood him.

Trazen stepped closer to her.

Moving before she knew she meant to, Jet side-stepped his tail as he unfurled it in her direction, stepping back and to her left to get out of his easy reach. She felt his flinch at her avoidance but she didn’t look up at his face to try and gauge his reaction. Fighting to keep her expression calm, she placed a hand on her hip, gazing down at the grass where he stood.

“Are you ready?” she said.

“Where are we going, Jet?”

She glanced up without thinking, saw the scrutiny intensify in his nearly-black eyes.

He stepped closer to her again, and she had to fight not to retreat a second time. She stiffened instead, her fingers tightening on her hip as she held her ground.

“What is wrong?” he said, lowering his voice. “What is it, Jet?”

He spoke English.

She shook her head. “Nothing,” she said.

Again, he moved closer to her, uncoiling his tail in her direction.

Again, she avoided his touch, right before she smoothed out her expression a second time, shaking her head more vehemently.

“Everything’s fine,” she said lightly, smiling up at him. “I was just making sure you were ready. Are you? Ready, I mean?”

Trazen continued to stare at her, his tail snaking behind him now.

“Yes,” he said.

She nodded, her face deliberately blank. Unable to hold his gaze, she looked out over the rest of the party guests, realizing only then that she still carried the glass Tyra had given her, now only about a third full of the blue liquid. Staring at it for a second, she barely hesitated before placing it on a nearby table.

When she glanced up that time, she saw a few of the party guests glance surreptitiously away. She and Trazen were being watched, both by humans and by Nirreth who stood within visual range. They’d likely had an audience during that whole interaction with her and Trazen and Trazen’s friend, Chloe.

Which meant at least a few of them had seen her avoid his touch.

“Okay,” she said, folding her arms as she looked back at Trazen. “Okay. Well... I guess follow me. If you want to come.”

Seeing him about to speak, Jet turned her back to him.

She didn’t wait but began walking to where she’d left Tyra and Anslom.

After a bare hesitation, she felt Trazen follow.

He reached her side in a handful of long strides, walking level with her before she’d covered half the distance back to where Tyra and Anslom stood. Jet found herself thinking that Tyra and Anslom had likely been watching her interact with Trazen too, although they appeared to be trying to hide their stares now. Jet saw them looking out over the valley instead, their arms looped around one another’s waists.

Trazen didn’t say anything for those first few steps, but Jet could feel his eyes on her again, boring into her face as she stared stubbornly ahead.

“Jet...” he began, hesitant. “Can we talk?”

“Now isn’t a good time, Trazen,” she muttered.

“Why?” he said, his voice holding an edge. “Why isn’t it a good time, Jet? You just made a public spectacle of being annoyed with me. You could at least tell me why.”

“I’m not annoyed with you.”

“Is it Chloe?” he said, blunt. “Are you angry about her?”

“I’m not angry at all, Trazen.”

His tail lashed behind him, an aggressive slash through the air.

She winced but her steps barely faltered.

“I’m not mad, okay?” she said, firming her jaw.

“They why won’t you speak to me?”

“Because I need you to keep your eyes open right now,” she said, her gaze still trained ahead, focused on Tyra’s profile. “...Because I’m a little nervous about what you asked me before we left your house... about why they invited us here. We can talk about whatever else later.”

She felt the male Nirreth’s stare intensify at her words.

His eyes jerked forward then.

Jet watched out of her peripheral vision as he focused up the small slope at Tyra and Anslom. She couldn’t help wondering what he was thinking. He didn’t say anything, so she really had no idea.

Then again, Jet thought in more than a little annoyance, she was beginning to realize that her not understanding what was going on with Trazen was pretty much a given.