“Once you are dressed, come find me on the bridge. Straight up the corridor. I will prepare your lessons.” His plans would have to wait until the boy was settled.
“Yeah, okay,” Whit agreed, then called after him as he turned to the door once more. “Hey, wait a minute. You never told me your name.”
“I am Commander Krampasarian D’Marchandar of the House of Strogar,” he said proudly.
Whit’s eyes widened. “You mean you really are Krampus?”
“Of course not. The names simply bear a very slight similarity.”
Whit ignored him. “Huh. Kidnapped by Krampus. Cinna is never going to believe this.”
Chapter Four
As soon as Jaelle opened her eyes, her gaze flicked to the window. She’d had the strangest dream last night that a man was standing there. No, not a man. Even though he’d been covered in a dark, tight suit that accentuated broad shoulders and a muscular chest. Even though he had long, white hair that curled down around his shoulders in silken waves. Even though dark, compelling eyes had looked back at her from a stunningly handsome face. But the two large horns that had spiraled up from his head had most definitely not been human.
Yet she hadn’t been afraid. In her dream, she had looked across at the window, the curtain parted just as it was right now, and their eyes had met, and all she had wanted was to go to him.
Don’t be ridiculous, she scolded herself. Perhaps she had been alone too long. Perhaps she should consider picking a village man to give her a child…
The thought held even less appeal than usual with the memory of her strange visitor still fresh in her mind. Perhaps he had been the dark spirit that the villagers said haunted them at this time of year, judging the unworthy. The thought made her smile - a smile that broadened when she caught a flash of red at the window and saw Robin peeking through that same gap in the curtains.
Throwing back the covers, she padded over to the window and opened the curtains completely to allow the pale winter sunshine to flood the room.
“Good morning,” she said to the bird as she pushed the window open a crack, shivering as the icy air came rushing in. “I don’t suppose I can tempt you to any breakfast this morning?”
It hadn’t escaped her notice that no matter what she tried to feed Robin, he only took a few small bites, almost as if he was trying to be polite. He chirped in response and hopped back a few steps.
She laughed. “No, I didn’t think so.”
Peering past him at the sky, she noticed the looming clouds on the horizon and frowned. How she longed for the weather forecasting skills of her ancestors but that technology had long since stopped working. All she had to go on was the information recorded in her family’s journals and a lifetime of experience.
“What do you think, Robin? Is there a storm coming?”
He bobbed his head in agreement, and this time, he hopped closer, almost as if he wanted to come inside. She hesitated, then opened the window a little further. Under other circumstances, she wouldn’t even have considered letting a wild creature into her cottage, but somehow, she wasn’t worried that he would cause any damage, either to the cottage or himself. And after her experience yesterday, she rather liked the idea of company. To her delight, Robin hopped across the sill, then tilted his head and surveyed the room with his bright, dark gaze.
“Not very impressive, is it?” she asked as she followed his eyes, but despite her words, she loved her room.
The single bed was covered with a quilt her grandmother had made and heaped with pillows. Shelves along the other wall held her childhood treasures, plus those of her mother and grandmother before her, and she had spent many hours curled in the worn reading chair. Although she had cleaned out the larger bedroom after her grandmother died, she could never bring herself to leave the small, cozy room where she’d grown up.
Pushing aside the memories, she smiled at Robin, now perched on one of her shelves, almost as if he was reading the titles of the few precious books that had been handed down to her.
“I’ll leave that window cracked so you can find your way back out.” She shivered as an icy breeze whistled through the opening. “But I’m going to take my bath in the other room in front of the fire.”
Robin seemed to freeze for a moment, but when she walked into the main room, he followed her.
Even though Krampasarian knew it was behaving irrationally, as soon as he had Whit settled, he sent his drone flying after Jaelle. He should be content. He had seen her flushed and sleepy, her body clad only in a long white gown, and even that had been far, far better than the bulky garments she usually wore. But when she said that she was about to bathe…
He had been examining the contents of her shelves, storing the image of her book titles for later translation, but just as something odd caught his eye, she had spoken and his curiosity had been replaced by sudden, unreasoning lust. Perching the drone on the top of a large cupboard, he watched eagerly as she went about her preparations.
The main room of the cottage was centered around a large fireplace with a stove insert for cooking. Several padded chairs were positioned to one side of the fireplace while on the other side, a table and chairs sat in front of one of the windows.
Jaelle took hot water from a reservoir on the stove and began filling a large metal object, supplementing it with water from the primitive pump in the kitchen area. Her living conditions really were appalling. If he only had her here on his ship, he could show her the wonders of unlimited hot water at the press of a button and -
She removed her sleeping gown and all thoughts of water were abandoned. He had seen enough of her to know that she was not the aged crone she appeared to be when she visited the village. He had expected that she would be young and healthy. He had not expected the vision of perfection that met his hungry gaze as she stepped into her primitive bath.
Her body was not dissimilar to that of a Tandroki female. Smaller of course, and to the best of his knowledge, no Tandroki female possessed those lush, tempting curves. His race valued tall, slender females, not oversized breasts that would be too large even for his hands or equally lush hips that made a male think of nothing but burying himself between them.
Raising her arms, she poured water over her body, letting it cascade down over taut, pink nipples and catch in a small patch of dark curls between her legs. Her actions were completely natural, unaware that she was watched, and he knew that he should turn away. Instead, his hand dropped to his hardened cock, pushing insistently against the tight cloth of his flight suit. He gripped his errant flesh, trying to remind himself that he was Tandroki and far above the primitive pleasures of the flesh, but then she picked up a small bar of soap and began rubbing it across her breasts and he gave up the fight.
Freeing his cock, he gave it a long, hard stroke as she circled her nipples, plucking gently at the rosy buds, her expression dreamy and far away. His grip tightened as her hand dropped down her body, parting those dark curls to reveal glistening pink folds. She worked the swollen pearl of flesh at the top of her sex, her movements faster now, and he matched his pace to hers, imagining that it was his hand, his cock, wringing those small cries of pleasure from her lips. Her back arched as she gave a louder cry, her body shivering with ecstasy, and he felt a corresponding streak of fire down his spine as he too cried out and a hot rush of seed covered his hand.
He collapsed back in his chair, still shuddering with pleasure, a pleasure that was quickly replaced by embarrassment. He had not touched himself in such a way since he was a young cadet, exploring the forbidden pleasures of the flesh before he fully understood the need to rise above such primitive instincts. But despite his embarrassment, he couldn’t stop watching Jaelle as she finished her bath, her movements efficient now rather than sensual. Even when she covered that tempting body with more of her voluminous clothing, it didn’t help. Now he knew the delights beneath.
A noise from the corridor interrupted his wayward thoughts, and he hastily tuck
ed himself away before Whit came bouncing into the room.
“Are you finished with your lessons?” he asked.
“Mostly.”
When Krampasarian frowned at him, the boy shrugged and gave him that curiously endearing smile.
“I wanted to talk to you. Man to… Krampus.”
A feeling of foreboding settled over him. “Why?”
Instead of responding, the boy wandered around the bridge, inspecting the various instrument panels curiously but, fortunately, not touching anything.
“You know,” Whit said finally, looking at him from under his lashes. “You got a pretty good thing going up here.”
“A good thing?” he asked incredulously. “I have a ruined ship in desperate need of repairs and I’m a very long way from my station.”
“Ship? I seen pictures of ships and this don’t look like none of them.”
“It’s a special kind,” he said quickly, cursing his lack of discretion. The knowledge of space flight should never be shared with lower races.
Whit gave him a skeptical look but returned to his main theme. “You got plenty of food and the roof don’t leak. You even got clothes. Sorta.”
The last statement was accompanied by a scowl at the thermal suit, but Krampasarian realized the boy had a point. Even on the crippled ship, his life was considerably better than that of the villagers.
“I suppose I do,” he agreed.
“And since you have all this, you could share it.”
His mind immediately went to Jaelle. Yes, he could see her here on the ship. He could take care of her here, make sure she was adequately fed and let her experience the bathing room, so superior to that primitive tub. Although, that tub did have some advantages…
His body started to respond to the erotic memory until Whit’s voice brought him back to the present. The boy had asked him a question but he’d missed it.
“Yes?”
“That’s great! I knew you weren’t such a bad guy, Krampus!” Whit grabbed his hand and pumped it up and down enthusiastically.
“That is not my name. And of course, I’m not a ‘bad guy.’”
“She won’t be any trouble,” Whit said enthusiastically and Krampasarian barely managed to refrain himself from snorting.
Of course she would be trouble. Females were always trouble. But it would be worth it to have her near him, where he could see her, possibly even touch her…
“And she doesn’t take up much room.” Whit continued, “She can share my bed.”
What? Jaelle would be in his bed, not the child’s, but why would Whit even think… A sinking feeling filled his chest.
“Whit, what are you talking about?”
“Cinna, of course. You said she could come and stay with us.”
“I said your sister could stay here?” he repeated disbelievingly.
“Course you did! When can we go get her?” Whit beamed up at him.
Chapter Five
Krampasarian muttered to himself as he strode back down the mountain path that night. How had he let the child talk him into this? He certainly didn’t need another person on his ship. But Whit had sworn that if he was not there to take care of his sister, she might starve to death. How could he, in good conscience, allow that to happen? And letting Whit go so quickly would not serve to teach the cruel male a lesson.
His footsteps hesitated as he passed Jaelle’s cottage, but he did not want to delay his mission. Would she bathe again before retiring? Perhaps if he were quick, he could watch her once more.
He was earlier tonight when he reached the village - more windows still glowed with light and he heard conversations coming from the houses. He slowed as he passed them, catching glimpses of a male talking to his female as they sat close together, of a parent carrying a child to bed, a group of young people gathered around a fire and laughing. They didn’t seem to mind the primitive conditions or the lack of common conveniences, and he found himself curiously envious. If he had been at home on Tandrok, he would have been alone in his perfectly maintained house as he meditated before retiring. Or perhaps he would have been at an elegant social gathering, where polite words and elaborate courtesies disguised malicious intentions.
Foolishness. He shook his head and increased his pace, following Whit’s directions to a small building on the outskirts of the village, close to the nearby river. “Old lady Linnea,” as Whit had called her, was a widow who took in laundry and sewing from the wealthier townspeople. She had three children of her own, all girls. As he passed the lighted front window, he could see the female bent over a small garment, her fingers flying busily as she chatted with two older children.
The room was small, the furniture shabby, but everything was spotlessly clean. Neat piles of clothes filled several baskets. Nodding approvingly, he slipped around the back of the cottage to the room where Whit had said his sister slept. He peeped through the window, then swore silently.
The tiny room had a bed against each wall, both of them containing a child. How would he know which one was Whit’s sister? Even more unfortunately, he was far too large to climb through the small window. He would have to wait until the female finished her work and retired to bed, then enter through the front door. Casting a disdainful glance at his surroundings, he tried to decide between the doubtful pleasures of perching on a snow-covered rock or leaning against the equally cold stone wall of the cottage.
A small sound interrupted his musing, and he looked down to see a pair of wide blue eyes staring up at him through the window. He braced himself for the child’s scream as he searched hastily for his sleeping potion. Despite his immediate instinct to withdraw, he had promised Whit that he would return with his sister.
To his shock, the girl didn’t scream. All she did was stare up at him, and as he stared back, he realized that although her features were smaller and more delicate, the resemblance was unmistakable. He had no doubt this was Whit’s sister. He was even more shocked when, after a moment of silent contemplation, she opened the window.
“Hello.” Her voice sounded like tiny bells, completely unafraid.
He had never been at such a loss for words. It took a full thirty seconds before he recovered enough to return her greeting. “Hello. Are you Cinna?”
“Yes.” She gave him a trusting smile. “Did you come to take me away?”
“No, of course not - well, yes, I did. Your brother sent me.”
“I thought so. Penny said the bad man took him and I was next.” Her small face wrinkled as she scowled over her shoulder at the child sleeping in the other bed. “I told her I wanted to be with Whit.” Turning back to him, she lifted her arms. “I’m ready.”
Still dumbfounded, he bent through the open window and carefully picked her up. Two tiny arms wound around his neck as she smiled up at him. His chest ached at the look of utter trust in her eyes. Had anyone ever looked at him like that before?
Determined to honor that trust, he gently adjusted her in his arms. By the Horns of Moroz, she felt impossibly frail, and he cast a worried look at the sky. An occasional flake of snow had begun to fall, and she was clad only in a thin sleeping garment. He had the sack, of course, but it seemed wrong to place her in it when she looked at him so trustingly.
In the end, he compromised and simply wrapped it around her small body. She snuggled against him and her eyes drifted close. She was asleep before he reached the other side of the village. Focused on his precious burden, he didn’t even pause as he passed Jaelle’s cottage, although he did spare it a regretful glance.
The light tap on her door made Jaelle freeze. She had spent the previous day trying to decide the best way to protect herself from Knut when she returned to the village, but she had never expected him to follow her all the way here. But the quiet knock hadn’t sounded threatening - and what if someone needed her?
She cautiously opened the door to find a woman leaning against the wall and panting.
“Do you really have to live so far up the mo
untain?” she said breathlessly as Jaelle stared at her.
“Melissa? What are you doing here?”
The plump tavern keeper surveyed her from head to foot, then snorted. “Always suspected there was more to you than you let on.”
Jaelle blushed and put a hand to her tangled curls as she realized she had forgotten to assume her usual disguise. “I…”
The other woman shook her head. “You don’t need to explain. Probably sensible not to let those horny bastards see the real you.”
“That’s what my grandmother said.”
“She was a wise woman, was Elise.” Melissa’s brows drew together. “But I’m not here about your secrets. Whit disappeared two nights ago. Now the girl’s gone too.”
“Cinna? Are you sure?”
“Linnea told me when she brought the washing. She said Cinna’s bed was empty and there was no sign of her. No one in the village has seen her. Linnea has to work, so I told her I would come see you.” Melissa peered over Jaelle’s shoulder into the front room of the cottage. “We were hoping maybe they were here?”
“Why would you think that?”
The other woman snorted. “I’ve seen you with them. You care about them and they adore you. I thought maybe Whit had enough of Knut’s bullying and ran away. But then I found this on the way up here.” The woman held out a scrap of pink. Jaelle’s heart skipped a beat as she recognized the ribbon she had given Cinna on a previous visit.
“We should organize a search party.”
“I’ve spread the word in the village, but no one’s very enthusiastic about climbing the haunted mountain. Knut has been going around saying it’s just some kind of trick the boy’s playing.”
“That bastard.”
“I know. But it’s easy to believe when it means you can stay in your nice warm house. And you know it’s not the first time Whit’s played a trick like that.”
“No, but he would never put Cinna in danger.” She cast a worried look over Melissa’s shoulder at the heavy clouds. Based on the way they were moving, the storm that had been threatening for the past few days was almost here.
Krampus and the Crone: A SciFi Alien Warrior Holiday Romance Page 3