Bridget's Bane: A SciFi Alien Romance Read online

  My mate hauls me up, careful not to tip over the rock “wall” we have on the edges of the pit. His arms immediately go around me, a look of anticipation on his face. "How did it turn out?"

  I smile at him, so proud and full of emotion that I can hardly stand it. I hold the ugly-ass bowl out to him. It's covered in ash and soot (and I am, too) but he knows the significance of it.

  A'tam sucks in a breath and takes it from my hand with a reverent motion. "It worked?"

  "I think so," I tell him, sniffing. I swipe at my nose, as it runs when I get teary-eyed. The smell of ash gets in my nostrils, and I suspect I'm getting it everywhere. I don't care. I'm just so happy about my pot. I've taken to firing just one at a time because I don't want to ruin several days of work if the fire's wrong. And it's been wrong over and over and over again. But today? Today we just might be on to something.

  He holds the little lopsided pot up and then thumps one of his claws on the edge. "Feels sturdy. Not like the others." He looks at me with an excited grin. "I think you have done it."

  He hands it back to me, and as I take it, he absently wipes at my dirty face. I lift my chin so he can clean me off, because I love it when he takes care of me. A'tam is a very hover-y, attentive mate who fusses over me constantly, and I eat that shit up. "The real test will be if it holds some water," I tell him as he cleans my cheeks of ash. "It might not work."

  "It will work," he tells me confidently. "Trust."

  We build a fire at the entrance of the cave and place a tripod over it, melting snow in a pouch until we have lukewarm water. When the ugly little pot holds together, we try hot water next, using hot rocks in the pouch to inch the temperature up. The little pot gets hot, but there are zero leaks, and when the water cools down, I pour it out and run my hand along the inside of the pot, feeling for softness in the clay, or any new cracks.

  I can't believe it. I've made a usable pot.

  "I…guess it's a success." I keep staring at the darn thing, wondering if it's going to suddenly spring a leak on me. If it'll crumble to pieces and prove me wrong, and then I'll be back to square one again.

  A'tam picks it up and carefully moves it to the side of the cave. Then, he turns and grabs me in a bear-hug, tackling me onto the floor and showering me with kisses. "You did it!"

  I hug him tight, still finding it hard to believe that after months of hitting my head against the wall, I've finally done it. "It might not hold. We should keep testing it—"

  He kisses me hard, silencing my protests. "Accept that it is a good pot, Br'chit. Accept that you have done a good job."

  "Okay," I say softly, smiling up at him. "I want to try it again before we tell anyone about it, though." There's a few pots drying out off to one side, and once they're ready to be popped into the pit, we'll have to build things up and collect fuel and prep the pit. It's a lot of work, but I'm no longer dreading it. "Maybe two more runs before we tell anyone. Yeah, two might be safer."

  A'tam pulls back, frowning at me. "Why wait? We should take the pot back to the village with us and show everyone." He presses a kiss to my knuckles. "I want them to see how clever my mate is."

  His words make nervousness coil in my belly. I reach for the small, decorated stick I keep tied to my belt and hold it up. It's a smaller version of our safety sticks, and we've found it helpful for communicating when we know we can touch them at a moment's notice. It forces the other person to really pay attention to what the other is saying, and it's been amazing. "A'tam," I say calmly. "I feel that I'm not ready to share our secret work with the others just yet. It's important to me that it be perfect before we let everyone know."

  "Br'chit." He sits up and touches his own stick, one that matches mine. "I feel that you should be proud of your accomplishment. It is a great, important thing you have done. Even if this pot shatters tomorrow, you are on the right path. Why not share this joy with others?"

  I cross my legs, holding my safety stick in my hand. "A'tam, I feel…" I pause, thinking. Ongoing therapy with Steph has taught us how to talk to one another, and to search for our feelings. He has a temper, and I'm obstinate as fuck, and when we get going, we're both assholes. Using the communication methods we've been taught helps us understand one another. "I feel that if we show everyone now, we'll disappoint them when it breaks. That they'll expect more from me than I can give."

  "Br'chit," A'tam says calmly, and there is such love and understanding in his eyes. "I feel you are thinking of your mother again, are you not?"

  "Shit." Busted. I suppose I am. "I'm just so nervous. Part of me really, really wants to show everyone that I can do this, and part of me is terrified of showing them, too."

  "You are nervous because you feel if you show a flaw, they will mock you and say you are terrible as your mother did," A'tam points out. "Do you truly believe this will happen?" He gives me a knowing look. "Your mother is not here."

  "No, but she's still here," I say, and tap my forehead. "I'll…think about it, okay? Give me a day?"

  "Of course." He leans forward and gives me a lascivious look. "Perhaps we can celebrate on our own."

  We make it back to the Icehome beach just in time for our daily therapy session with Steph. We've moved the time to sunset, so we can do our daily work around the camp without taking time away from the valuable daylight hours. Steph's waiting outside our hut with a mug of steaming tea on the step beside her and a bit of sewing in her hands. She doesn't notice us until we're right upon her, and then jumps in surprise. Her hand goes to her heart. "Oh, Jesus. I didn't see you two."

  I glance over at A'tam, because we weren't particularly quiet. That's a little concerning. "You feeling okay, Steph? We can pick things up tomorrow if you're not up to it." I have the pot cradled under my clothing because I'm a wimp and a chicken. I want to talk to her about it in therapy but it's not like her to be so distracted.

  She shakes her head and puts her sewing into a bag. "I'm all right. I was just lost in thought. Pak and Juth didn't pick up the food left for them today." Her expression grows worried. She's taken on the two outcasts as a personal project and I know she feels responsible for them. "It's not like them to miss a meal."

  "I'm sure they're fine," I reason. "Maybe they're just running behind." I touch A'tam's hand so he can offer some words of comfort, too.

  He grunts. "Hunting, most likely. It might mean there is a storm coming."

  Steph brightens. "Do you think so?"

  A'tam nods. "I have heard some of the outcasts have a good sense for weather changes. It might be wise for us to stay close to camp for the next few days."

  "That's probably it, then." Steph's smile grows bigger, relieved.

  We have our therapy session, and I bring out the pot and show her, since she's known all about my efforts for a while. She's excellent at keeping secrets, though, and she says nothing about her thoughts on the matter. Instead, she encourages me and A'tam to continue talking it out. She makes us go over the reasons we won't share it versus the reasons to share it. I don't want to share it because I'm scared I'll be laughed at or someone will tell me I'm wasting my time. Steph points out that if someone came up with a tampon, I'd want to know all about it. My pottery can be that important for someone else…and she's got a point.

  A'tam just wants us to show it off because he wants everyone to be as proud of me as he is. It's hard to argue with something like that when your mate is just beaming as if you've invented fire itself, not just made a crappy pot. But I love that he's so supportive of me. I love that he's my biggest cheerleader and helper.

  In the end, I decide to share it after all. After Steph leaves, I sit by the fire pit. I clean the pot up and try to make it look better…which is pretty impossible. I wasn't going for looks when I made it, though. I just wanted it to hold its shape after being fired and be useful. Pretty can come later. Now, I'm regretting my casual attitude. "A'tam, I'm not sure…"

  "You are sure," he tells me, not looking up from his project. Once he fixed the fl
oors, he's moved on to reworking the walls. Not only have all the holes been chinked, but he's smoothing the slow-drying mortar out using a broken shard of pottery. He wants to use the shards as spearheads, too, which didn't occur to me, but I've been making him wait until I'm ready for the big reveal. "You have done something wonderful, and you should share it with your tribe so they can be proud, too."

  The look he gives me is so profoundly proud and affectionate that it makes me ache. He's the only person in my life that's ever looked at me like that, and I realize I'd pretty much do anything to keep him. "All right," I say softly. "I'll stop being a pussy. I'm just scared."

  "I know." He casts an easy smile at me. "If it will ease your fears, I will pounce upon the first person that laughs."

  I absolutely believe he would, and the offer just makes me melt. "You're the best mate ever, you know that?"

  He nods, smug. "Of course I am."

  Because the weather tonight is rather blustery, everyone's piled into the longhouse for the evening meal. We head inside, draped in our fur cloaks, and immediately the warmth and the scents hit like a brick wall. A'tam has a sensitive nose and I imagine this can't be fun for him, but it all smells delicious to me. My appetite has been through the roof since resonance “finished” and I'm now pregnant. Over by the far fire, I see O'jek cooking. He tastes a broth, then holds the spoon out to Daisy. I still find it weird that those two have kicked up a friendship. O'jek's quiet and kinda surly and doesn't seem to like anyone and Daisy's a gregarious flirt.

  If she's hanging out with him, though, it means she's not all over A'tam, which makes me happy. Not that he's ever looked in another direction…I'm just the jealous, territorial type, especially now that I'm pregnant. I squeeze A'tam's hand and he glances over at me, loving concern on his face. "What is it?"

  "Hungry," I tell him. And yes, I'm absolutely stalling again. "Can we eat first?"

  He eyes me with a knowing look, but reaches over and touches my flat belly. "Let us feed our son first, eh?"

  "Pfft. Daughter. But yes."

  We greet people as we make our way in. The longhouse is crowded tonight. It's not the most spacious of buildings anyhow, and the two long, narrow fire pits bisect things, so everyone crowds around them. Raahosh and Liz and all their children are closer to the door, seated with Gail and Vaza and Z'hren, and we step over Harlow and Rukh and Brooke and Taushen as we head toward the back of the lodge, where Shadow Cat tends to hang out. Raven's sitting on U'dron's big knee as she repairs her tambourine, and they chat with a busily-eating I'rec. Near our “usual” group are Bek and Elly, and Angie and Vordis. Nadine and Thrand sometimes join us, too, but they're not here tonight. Probably out hunting.

  Angie smiles at us in greeting and shifts over on her seat. Her baby's at her breast, Vordis standing behind her protectively with his hands on her shoulders. "Come sit with me," she tells us. "There's room."

  Just barely, but I glance over at A'tam. "I can sit on your lap?"

  He shakes his head. "I will get you food. You go sit." He takes the pouch—the one with my hidden pot in it—off and carefully settles it over my head, securing it at my waist. "I will join you shortly." He gives me a kiss and then shrugs off his fur cloak, handing it to me before squeezing his way through the clusters of people toward the fire.

  I go and sit with Angie, settling the bag with the pot between my feet and folding A'tam's fur cloak over my legs. She smiles in greeting, breaking Glory's latch on her breast and then settling the baby on her shoulder, burping her. "How's the hunting today?" she asks.

  "Not too bad." It's kind of the truth? We checked A'tam's traps before heading off to the pottery cave to check on my works. The kills are currently frozen solid, so tomorrow morning, I'll skin them and work on smoking the meat. "A couple of hoppers and a young snowcat."

  Angie's eyes widen. "Can I trade you for the snowcat pelt? I'm making Vordis a cloak and I need a few more."

  I shrug. "Sure. I'll swing by in the morning. I'm low on some tea if you've got extra."

  "I will find you extra," Angie promises, patting the baby's back. A funny look crosses her face and she glances up at her mate. Just as swiftly, Vordis presses a kiss to his mate's brow, scoops up the baby, and heads away with her. "Diaper change," Angie says with an apology. "Babies are messy."

  "What, you mean everyone doesn't shit in their pants? I've been lied to," I joke. We watch as Vordis takes the baby to a back corner. Someone hands him a candle-bowl and he sets it atop a built-in shelf, laying his daughter atop the changing table back there. With so many growing families, a baby station was absolutely needed in the lodge, and as I watch, Rukh heads over with his own little girl in his arms and the two men talk quietly.

  It's nice to see so many involved dads, I think wistfully. My memories of my own father were just the occasional check showing up on birthdays—which my mom would promptly snatch up—and a couple of summer visits that never lasted longer than a day. I doubt he ever knew that I left Earth…or that he cared. It's not like that here, though. I scan through the lodge, looking for my mate…and find him with Gail and Vaza. It looks like Gail is fixing two bowls of food while A'tam tosses baby Z'hren in the air and makes him laugh. A'tam loves babies. It's one thing I've never worried over in our relationship—he's more than ready to become a family man.

  I chat with Angie and Elly (who's on the other side of me) about babies. Elly's starting to really show, her belly bulging out, and she couldn't be more excited. I glance over at my mate from time to time, but he's busy being a social butterfly and playing with everyone's kids before he makes his way back to me. I don't mind. O'jek fills a bowl of food for me and brings it over, nodding in greeting as he does. Now that I'm officially Shadow Cat, the men of the clan dote on me like they would a sister, which is a weird turnabout. I'll take it, though. I've never had a family, truly, and now I feel like I do, even if we squabble sometimes.

  O'jek's roast is lightly herbed and delicious, and no sooner do I clean my bowl than A'tam is back with another round of food. He drops between my legs, moving the leather bag with the pot in it so he can sit between my knees. The conversation turns toward the fruit cave, and we talk about making an excursion out when the weather's nicer. It's not too bad here in the cove, but the farther you get into the mountains, the worse it is. No one wants to be left behind, of course, so we talk strategies—everything from sleds to skis to dragon-back to waiting until the brutal season is over (which no one wants to do).

  It's a lovely evening and we talk about nothing at all and everything at once, which is pretty much how it goes every night. Flor eventually shows up, waves at me from afar, and then sits on the far side of the fire, squeezed between Sam and Sessah by the sa-khui group.

  A'tam finishes his food and leans against my leg, his tail thumping with contentment against the floor. It's the perfect time to speak up and mention my pottery, but I'm stalling like a dork. A'tam doesn't rush me, but I can feel the excited tension in his body. He's excited…for me.

  It's that realization that decides me. "So, uh, do you guys have a minute? I want to show you something."

  Angie and Elly look at me curiously. Across the fire, Daisy and O'jek pause, too. I notice that it's suddenly extremely quiet all the way down the longhouse, and all attention is on me. People love a bit of gossip, and I am absolutely one of those people, so I can't judge. I look at the sea of faces—Hannah, Callie, Penny, Steph, Veronica, Lauren—and take a deep breath. I can do this.

  Wordlessly, A'tam hands me the bag and then squeezes my knee. I don't have to look at him to know he's giving me a beaming smile of pride. All right, then. Time for me to show what I've got. I pull my ugly little pot out of the bag. "For the last few months I've been trying to teach myself how to do pottery. I…think I may have figured it out."

  There's a pause.

  I'm not prepared for the rush of excitement in the longhouse. Everyone starts talking at once. Hands reach for the pot, and everyone's so excited. I pass
it to the next pair of hands, and then it seems like the entire tribe wants to touch it and exclaim over it. No one's laughing at how crooked it is or how long it's taken me. People pat me on the back or cast incredulous smiles in my direction.

  "That's amazing," Liz says as Gail hugs the pot to her chest. "Think of how much easier it'll make cooking!"

  "I'm in love," Gail tells me. "Please say you can make more."

  "I can try," I say, feeling shy. "We're still working on smoothing out some of the kinks in the process, but we're getting there."

  Shy, quiet Elly touches my knee. "Will you teach me?" I nod, and she beams at me with pure joy. "I'd love to learn."

  "I can't believe you taught yourself this," Veronica looks fascinated. "How did you even know where to begin?"

  I don't know how to answer that without bragging, and my throat closes up. A'tam squeezes my knee. "Br'chit is clever, is she not? She can do anything she puts her mind to."

  God, I love that man. I lean forward and wrap my arms around his neck in a loose hug as I try to answer the flurry of excited questions. With him at my side, I feel like we can accomplish anything. Together.

  And really, that's what a mating is all about, isn't it? It's more than just making a baby. My parents made a baby and look where it got them. But a mating is about partnership. Friendship. Trust. Love.

  Listening to one another. Hearing what the other needs and providing it.

  I have all that with A'tam.

  It wasn’t easy – it’ll probably never be easy – but it’s absolutely worth it. I wouldn’t trade my impulsive, arrogant, foolish, wonderful, attentive, handsome mate for all the pottery in the world. He’s flawed, but his flaws match mine and together?

  Together, we’re perfect.

  Author’s Note

  Hello there!

  It feels like it’s been forever since I’ve put a book out. How do people not go crazy only publishing a book every 6 months?!