Secret Santa Surprise: Book 29 in the Kindred Tales Series

by Evangeline Anderson

  Relax—stop being so damn jumpy! he lectured himself. There was nothing alive in the shadows of the factory but him and he wouldn’t be for long if he didn’t keep his head. Pierce exhaled deeply, trying to force himself to relax. He ran a hand through his short brown hair and scrubbed his palm over his rough cheeks. His mustache and goatee, which he usually liked to keep neatly trimmed, were getting ragged. If he didn’t get some alone time with a razor soon, his face would be as hairy as his chest.

  “Need a shave,” he muttered to himself, slumping against the long rectangular box behind him. “And a shower. And a woman that wants a couple of nights of hard lovin’ to take my mind off this shit.”

  “What is it that you require, Mistress?” The voice came from the box he was leaning on. Pierce jumped up and turned with his pistol pointed in the direction of the box. There was an unmistakably man-shaped figure sitting up in it, staring at him. Presumably that was who or what had done the talking.

  “Stay where you are or I’ll shoot,” he said in what he hoped was an intimidating whisper. Shouting would be better but he didn’t want Shie-lu and his thugs coming back when they heard the noise.

  “I am programmed for any and all functions. What is your sexual pleasure?” the man asked in a slightly robotic voice.

  “What the hell?” Pierce muttered, backing away from the box. Could it be that this was a cybernetic whore factory that produced man-whores instead of female ones? He’d never heard of such a thing but he’d been around the galaxy enough times to know anything was possible.

  “I can give you any pleasure—even your darkest and most socially unacceptable fantasy will be my pleasure to fulfill.” The cybernetic man-whore-thing continued climbing out of the box and approaching Pierce. “After all, I am a machine so you need not have any shame in divulging your most illicit fantasies.”

  “I don’t have any damn fantasies, socially unacceptable or otherwise,” Pierce growled, waving his gun at the naked chest of the thing in front of him. “Now why don’t you just get back in your little box and go back to sleep, you, uh…whatever you are.”

  “I am a Companion 2000 built with your personal pleasure in mind. Perhaps you wish to see me in the light?” the thing asked.

  “No!” Pierce almost shouted. Nothing says “here I am” like turning on the lights in the place you’re trying to hide. But it was too late—the man-whore-thing made a motion and suddenly the entire factory was blazing with brilliance.

  “Much better.” The man-whore smiled at him, showing brilliant white, perfectly even teeth in its handsome face. It was much shorter than Pierce, maybe five-seven or five-eight to his six-four and it had thick blond hair on its head and a smooth, well- developed chest. Also, its pale, perfect body was completely naked.

  “It’s not better at all,” Pierce told it angrily. “Turn off the lights, you son of a bitch!”

  “No, I think it is time we shed some light, both literally and figuratively, on your sexual shame,” the Companion 2000 said, taking a step toward him. “I am programmed to understand your needs, even the ones you fear and distrust.”

  “My needs are for you to shut up, turn off the light, and get back in your box—in that order,” Pierce growled. The laser blasts outside the building were getting closer again, by the sound of it. No doubt Shie-lu had seen the lights and was on his way back to collect Pierce or at least a large enough part of him to claim the bounty.

  “What is it you really want?” the man-whore-thing insisted. “Do you wish to weep on my shoulder or vent about the terrible day you had at work? Perhaps you need to speak to me about troublesome family members or disloyal friends. My sensitivity sensors are set on maximum and I will not offer advice or try to ‘fix’ your problems. I am perfectly content to hold you while you cry in my arms.” It stepped forward, arms outstretched with a big fake sympathetic smile on its plastic, perfect face.

  “Get the fuck away from me!” Pierce barked, circling around the naked man-whore. Damn but this thing was creepy! Behind him, the door he had used to enter the factory in the first place began to rattle on its hinges. Great, Shie-lu was here!

  “I can be masterful too, if that is what you wish,” the Companion 2000 continued babbling. “I vow not to stop my sexual attentions to you until you are completely satisfied both physically and emotionally.”

  “In here!” Pierce heard a familiar voice shout. It was Tern, Shie-lu’s right-hand man, and he was just outside the door.

  Pierce had no more time to lose arguing with the crazy cybernetic man-whore. With a muffled curse, he dove into the long, silver sarcophagus the Companion 2000 had climbed out of and pulled the lid shut behind him.

  “Where is he? I thought you said he was here?” Shie-lu’s voice, sounding angry and oily at the same time, was muffled but perfectly understandable through the thick lid of the box. Pierce held his breath—if Shie-lu found him now…

  “Hello, Mistress, what do you desire?” It was the Companion 2000 speaking in that same fruity, slightly robotic voice, like a sex therapist on mind-altering antidepressants.

  “What the fuck is this thing?” Pierce heard Tern mutter. There were similar grumbles of disgust and wonder from the other men in Shie-lu’s gang as well.

  “I am a Companion 2000. I am programmed to fulfill all your sexual desires—even the most forbidden and socially unacceptable ones,” the Companion explained. “Would you like me to service you now?”

  “Service this, bitch,” Tern said and a blast echoed outside the lined walls of the sarcophagus, followed by a burst of hoarse, trollish laughter.

  “I am a Companion 2000… I am a Companion 2000… I ammmm a Compannnnionnnn…” The Companion’s voice wound down into a meaningless blur and stopped altogether. Pierce could picture the thing sinking to the floor with a gaping hole it its chest and wondered if it bled real blood, or some factory-grown derivative that was colored with red food dye.

  “That wasn’t overly bright of you, Tern. Now it will be obvious to anyone searching for us that we’ve been here.” Shie-lu sounded pissed off, Pierce could tell because his voice was dangerously soft.

  “Sorry, boss, but it wanted to sex on me!” Tern protested.

  “It’s programmed to say that to anyone, you fool. Clean it up—or at least hide it so it isn’t found immediately.” Shie-lu sounded more pissed off than ever. “Pierce probably left this thing as a decoy and went the other direction. As we speak he is almost certainly on his way to his shuttle. Come quickly or we’ll miss him!” There was a sound of tromping feet—Shie-lu’s men weren’t going to win any prizes for gracefulness anytime soon—and the door banged shut behind them.

  Pierce waited a long breathless moment, then heaved a sigh of relief. He only wished he had been smart enough to think of leaving the Companion as a decoy as Shie-lu had surmised, but it was nice to know his old enemy thought so highly of him. Still, now that he and his gang were gone in the opposite direction, it was time to get the hell out of town. The silver sarcophagus he was currently occupying was surprisingly roomy and plush, but it wasn’t anyplace he wanted to spend vacation time in.

  He pushed casually at the lid, expecting it to open as easily as it had closed, but the thing didn’t budge. Frowning to himself, Pierce positioned himself so that both hands were braced against the satiny padding that covered the inside of the lid and pushed with all his might. Still no effect. Okay, he wasn’t claustrophobic, but this was starting to get to him.

  “What…the…fuck…?” he muttered savagely, pushing with each word. Was there some kind of latch on the outside of the padded coffin he found himself in? Had it snicked shut when he pulled down the top? Was he trapped in here forever?

  Okay, deep breath! he told himself. Don’t panic! At least the air inside the sarcophagus seemed to be as fresh as when he’d first climbed inside—that meant it must have some kind of circulating air flow. So he wouldn’t suffocate. His heart was still pounding like a piston, though. He might not be claustroph
obic, but he sure didn’t like tight enclosed spaces. Oh, hell, Pierce admitted to himself, maybe he was claustrophobic after all.

  “Companion 2000, I detect elevated heart rate and oxygen consumption. Is there a problem?” The soft feminine voice in his ear nearly gave Pierce a coronary.

  “What the…who are you?” he demanded, looking around in the dark as though he could see anything. He couldn’t, of course, but the soft voice continued anyway.

  “This is the voice of your containment system as you very well know. Please explain the reason for elevated levels or I will be forced to dispense a calming agent into your air flow.”

  “What? Wait a minute—there’s been a mistake!” Pierce protested, still pushing on the lid. “I am not a Companion. I’m human and I got in here by mistake. Open the lid and let me out!”

  “Negative, Companion 2000,” the soft female voice said in his ear. “Shipment is scheduled for tomorrow. Free time is therefore suspended.”

  “I don’t want free time, I want to get out!” Pierce shouted. “Let me the fuck out!”

  “Now dispensing calming agent,” the voice said.

  Pierce took in a deep breath to shout some more and choked on the sickly sweetish scent that suddenly permeated the air. Son of a bitch—the stupid coffin had gassed him!

  “No,” his voice sounded weak, even to him. “No, let…let me out.”

  “You will be released when your new mistress opens the lid upon delivery,” the smug female voice of the sarcophagus informed him. “Until then, you will be kept sedated during shipment. Pleasant slumber, Companion 2000.”

  “I’m not…not a Compan…” But he lost consciousness before he could finish the word.

  Want more? Get the rest of COMPANION 3000 on December 5!

  The Priestess and the Thief

  Kindred Tales, Book 30

  Available December 2020

  Turn the page for sneak peek.

  Prologue

  It came back to her often in dreams…

  “Are you a virgin, little priestess?” he asks, his dark, unreadable eyes searching hers. They are in the small, dim closet together. Outside the clatter of the human celebration—a holiday called “Christmas”—is loud and happy.

  But in the closet with him, the sounds are muted. Ellilah can hear her own heart pounding in her ears. The drugged punch he has forced her to drink is fizzing through her veins and she can feel the hot desire flowing through her body.

  Her desire has always been a source of shame to her. She runs hot—as hot as the males in her family, she thinks. At least, all her brothers Joined with their mates young and several of them were bonded before they got joined—a great scandal on Torl Prime, her home planet.

  But with males, of course, the urge to fornicate could be excused. Males have needs, after all, and as long as her brothers Joined with their brides before the brides’ bellies started to show, what harm was really done?

  Of course, it’s different for a female—at last on Torl Prime. Elli knows she shouldn’t have desires at all—shouldn’t long to be touched and certainly shouldn’t touch herself at night, after lights out when everyone is supposed to be asleep. But she can’t seem to help it—she’s always been drawn to self-pleasure…to desires of the flesh.

  Like her knack with zorels, it’s not considered ladylike or proper in a female. It’s the reason she was sent to the Mother Ship to be a priestess in the first place. Or maybe her stepmother just wanted to be rid of her.

  Either way, Elli has barely been here a week and already she is breaking the rules…Sneaking out after curfew to attend the human party. Joining in their festivities when she ought to be back at the Sacred Grove, meditating quietly instead.

  Being around male warriors at all is grounds for punishment. For she hasn’t completed her Novicehood yet. And she has yet to partake in the Ceremony of Shriving and drink the Mortem Amore which will kill, once and for all, any desires of the flesh still lurking in her soul…

  “Are you a virgin, little priestess?” he says again and this time Elli answers him.

  “Yes,” she whispers, looking up into those unreadable eyes. She wishes she knew what kind of Kindred he is. He looks like a Beast Kindred, with his braided beard and shaggy mane of black hair. But his eyes are dark, not golden as he looks down at her.

  “I will not take your chastity,” he murmurs, tilting her chin up to his.” But forgive me—I must test the effectiveness of the potion.”

  Then he bends down and takes her mouth in a kiss as sweet as Ellie always dreamed her first kiss would be. Well, that is until she was shipped away to be a priestess. Now she’s is not supposed to be kissing anyone. But somehow she can’t stop—even though she doesn’t know him. Doesn’t even know his name.

  But one kiss isn’t enough. As he pulls away, she reached for him. Looping her arms around his neck, she pulls him back down. He doesn’t have to come—he’s nearly seven feet tall and immensely muscular while she’s barely five-five. But he comes anyway, allowing himself to be drawn down for more of the sweet-sticky forbidden kisses, flavored with the fruity punch he made her drink.

  “Gods, little priestess,” he murmurs, when he pulls back at last. “That punch is potent stuff, isn’t it?”

  He strokes her lightly, just over her breasts where her nipples poke against the coarse white fabric of her robes.

  The touch is barely there but Elli feels her body respond at once—lighting up for him like the strange tree in the human’s party—the one they have strung with many small, twinkling lights. Her body feels like that now—sparking, lighting, coming to life under this stranger’s touch.

  “Oh!” she gasps, her nipples peaking under his gentle caress.

  “You like that, do you?” He cups one breast more firmly and strokes her tight nipple gently with his thumb. Even through the coarse robe, his touch stirs her almost unbearably. Elli feels as though the sparking has turned to a smoldering fire which might soon burst out into outright flame. More—she wants more.

  And she suspects it isn’t just because of the punch, though that certainly helps things along. Also thanks to the punch, she no longer feels any guilt or obligation to stop doing what feels good. What feels right.

  “Easy, little priestess—you’re panting,” he murmurs. After stroking her nipple through the coarse white cloth of her robe a moment more, he pulls his big hand away.

  But Elli doesn’t want him to go.

  “Touch me,” she begs, reaching for his hand and placing it on her other breast.

  He strokes it, almost reflexively.

  “I should go now,” he murmurs, almost to himself. “Clearly the punch is working.”

  “No—don’t leave me!” Elli thrusts her breast more fully into his big hand and rubs against him. Her whole body is on fire with need! “Please,” she begs, “Kiss me again—touch me some more!”

  “Mmm, but I shouldn’t, little priestess…” Still, he allows her to pull him down for another long, sweet, lingering kiss. Elli slips her tongue between his lips and explores him eagerly. He makes a low growl in his chest and lifts her up, deepening the kiss as he pulls her close.

  Elli feels like she can’t get enough. Her whole body is alight with desire and for once it doesn’t feel like a sin to indulge herself. She can do whatever she wants tonight and there is no one here to stop her. No stepmother, glaring at her and saying she ought to be ashamed, no Priestess Superior with her cold, judgmental eye. No one telling her it is wrong to do things that feel so good…so right.

  She presses against the dark stranger eagerly and then takes one of his big hands—the one not busy fondling her breasts—and attempts to slip it under her robe.

  She is bare beneath—having not been fitted for her special undergarments yet—and for a moment, she feels his fingertips brush the sensitive top of her mound. How she longs to feel those long fingers slip into her slippery inner folds and touch her special spot—the one she’s never supposed to touch herself.<
br />
  She knows she shouldn’t touch herself there—and she certainly shouldn’t let a male touch her there—but somehow, since she drank the punch, it seems all right. It seems perfectly fine to indulge the hidden desires she’s had for so long, the ones she only takes out an examines in the privacy of her own bed at night…

  The male’s fingertips slip for just a moment into her slit and she feels him brush over the tingling button of her special spot. Goddess, it feels so good!

  But then he is pulling away—drawing back—a frown on his dark features.

  “Forgive me, little virgin priestess, but I must go before I do something we both will regret,” he rumbles.

  “Wait—no, please don’t go!” Elli begs him. But he is already gliding noiselessly out of the door and through the human party. No one sees him go—wearing the red hat with the white furry ball at the end, he blends in with the other Christmastime revelers.

  Only Ellie is left, standing there, feeling as though her entire body has been plucked like a lyric-harp string and then left wanting and alone…

  Want more? THE PRIESTESS AND THE THIEF will release in December 2020!

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