Page 179 of Seven Oars
“Where will we live?”
“Somewhere. In a house. Would you like that?”
Images danced in her head. A window glowing with a mellow light in encroaching darkness. The smell of blooming peonies in a garden. She and Finn.
Maybe even a family.
Silo’s disparaging words, spoken so long ago in their doomed cruiser, came back to her:Tana-Tanas will breed with anything.
Could she? Breed with Fincros? Oh, what a sweet dream.
She almost kissed him on the lips, but restrained herself. It was embarrassing, the force of her desire for this alien. But they fit. It felt right. She wanted more of it. She wanted it all.
In the distance, Tutti’s voice spoke in soft tones. The robot was close by, on the Bridge.
Then the door to the Dome was pushed open with a force that splintered the flimsy slats.
Fincros’black eyes flattened, going hard like fresh coal. His heartbeats went from zero to sixty in under a second, pushing his dark veins to the surface.
Phex filled the doorway.
“I trusted you,” he spat, his bulk blocking the entrance more solidly than the door had.
“I never betrayed your trust,” Rosamma parried shakily.
Anger pulsed off Phex in cold gusts, thrumming every nerve in her body that had gone taut.
“Is that why you’ve got no energy left? Wasted it all on his dick?”
He lunged.
It happened too fast for a scream.
She had been sitting in Fincros’lap, squarely between them.
Fincros shoved her aside as he jumped to his feet, his body taking the worst of Phex’s first killer blow.
Still, she caught a glancing hit and cried in pain. Finn’s attention flicked to her, just for a heartbeat. And in that insignificantly small moment, Phex’s clawed hand raked across his face, full force.
Blood spurted like a geyser.
Fincros staggered.
Rosamma screamed.
Footsteps pounded in the passageway, the pirates swooping in like vultures, drawn by the fight and the screams.
But she didn’t look to see who came, not when Phex was being feral, his emotions full out of control.
It was an angry fight.
Finn fought back in silence, choking on the blood that poured down his face. His swings lacked their usual grace. His blocks often failed. Blows landed.
He appeared disoriented.
The pirates behind Rosamma’s back were strangely silent.
A sick feeling overcame her when Rosamma realized he was going to lose this fight.
