by Pati Nagle
There was no “Wait,” no yearning titillation. Even as I came on like a bull, I was astonished. This was entirely unlike me.
The orgasm was blinding. I held still as it faded, breathing hard. Became aware of my thundering pulse, of Lomen plastered against the wall.
You OK?
For answer he freed himself and turned around. He kissed me hard, burning away my doubts. We traded places, then finally clung together, winding down.
The water hitting my ankles was getting cooler.
Lomen reached for a bar of soap—not the stuff I’d been using, but a rustic-looking tan-colored bar. As soon as the water hit it, I recognized the fragrance.
This was the soap Madóran had made. If I hadn’t just spent myself, the smell would have aroused me. As it was it aroused my brain, and I had to demand a long kiss.
The soap quickly dispersed the oil. We finished bathing and shut off the now-cold water, then rubbed each other down with luxurious bath sheets from the linen cupboard.
I was tired, in a good way, and still sort of stunned.
Nap.
Mm.
We dressed, then tiptoed down the hall to Lomen’s room. I risked a glance toward the living room but didn’t see Amanda.
We tossed our dirty clothes in a corner and collapsed onto the bed together.
I don’t know what came over me. I’m not usually...
Shh. Doesn’t matter.
He pulled me closer and I closed my eyes. For the first time since Wednesday, we lay quietly together, and I realized this was something I’d been missing.
I woke up smelling sauteeing onions. My stomach growled.
I took a long breath and became aware I was alone in the bed. A moment’s grief, then a jumble of memories that made me catch my breath.
Shield, Steven.
I blinked, then obeyed. Shielded twice, for good measure. Sat up.
Lomen wasn’t in the room.
I rubbed my face, still waking up.
Where are you?
In the living room. Faranin and Bironan are here.
I tried to remember who they were. Ælven, from the names.
They’ve come to help us hunt.
Oh, yeah.
Pushing away that depressing thought, I got up, combed my fingers through my still-damp hair, and shuffled out to the living room. Len was talking with Lomen and two others, both doppelgangers of Caeran, though one had a pretty stern expression. They wore the loose, cotton clothing I was getting used to seeing on the ælven. I wondered if Madóran made that, too.
There was a tray with a teapot and mugs on the coffee table. Len waved me toward it and kept talking.
She was explaining Project Ebonwatch, I realized. Explaining my presence.
I poured myself some tea and sat in Amanda’s chair. Len was talking about the advantages of building a lab over using an existing building. The biggest plus seemed to be that it could be away from the city but within easy driving distance.
Cheaper in town, I thought, but Caeran always wanted to keep a low profile. Finding land, buying it, building—all these would delay things, but they could be done while we were scrambling to learn the skills we’d need for the research.
I finished my tea and reached for the pot. It was almost empty. I quietly carried it into the kitchen.
Caeran was at the stove, stirring onions and peppers in a skillet. He glanced at me, then nodded toward the counter. I put the teapot there and filled the electric kettle.
“Anything I can do to help?” I said.
“How are you at brewing tea?”
“Uh...in need of training.” They used loose tea, I knew that. I had no clue how to do it.
“Never mind. Just chop those scallions, and give me the white ends.”
I chopped them, then chopped celery, then sliced up a baguette for garlic bread. I snagged a tiny heel from the baguette, since I’d missed lunch. Really good bread.
“Where are those two going to stay?” I asked, nodding toward the living room.
Caeran shook something into the pan from a glass jar. “Either at Savhoran’s apartment, or here. Faranin said the porch is fine for him to rest on; the weather’s mild.”
“What if it rains?”
“We have an awning that folds out under the pergola.”
I thought about offering my place, but the sign on the door made me think twice. I didn’t want to ask anyone else to put up with harassment intended for me.
The kettle boiled. Caeran deputized me to stir the veggies while he set a fresh pot of tea brewing. My stomach growled at the aroma rising from the pan.
I helped Caeran until the tea was ready, then lifted the strainer-thingie out of the teapot and put it in the sink. Put the lid on the pot and carried it back to the living room.
“Steve, I’d like you to meet our friends,” Len said as I put the pot on the tray. “This is Faranin, and this is Bironan.”
Faranin was the stern-looking one. I nodded to both of them. Bironan smiled slightly.
“Steve Harrison is the newest member of the company,” Len added. “He’s going to be integral to our research efforts.”
“Nice to meet you,” I said. I couldn’t think of anything else. Good luck hunting the alben?
I’d forgotten my mug. As soon as I could do so without being rude, I slipped back to the kitchen for it. Caeran was adding shrimp to the pan.
“This is almost ready. Could you get the dining room ready?”
“Sure. How many places?”
“Just put a stack of plates on the sideboard. We’re too many for the dining table.”
I pulled some plates out of the cupboard. “Gonna need a bigger boat.”
Caeran gave me a quizzical look, then returned his attention to the stove. I fetched out silverware and napkins—cloth; no paper in this house—and put them on the sideboard. Caeran started handing me serving dishes: salad, basket of garlic bread, casserole of rice. He brought the main dish out in a big tureen, then called everyone to help themselves.
I hung back, letting the guests go first, though my stomach protested. Caeran and Lomen both treated Faranin with a subtle deference, making me wonder if he outranked them somehow. Hadn’t they told me Caeran was the clan’s leader?
Lomen caught my eye and smiled.
You’ve met almost all of us now. All but Madóran and two others. Well, three others.
Oh?
Mirali’s just given birth. A daughter, Nathrali.
I could feel his pride as he said this, almost as if he was the father. For all I knew, he was.
I slapped a quick shield on that thought.
That’s cool. About the baby.
Yes, I’m eager to meet her. We’ll see them at Evennight.
Caeran, Len, and the two newcomers sat at the dining table. Lomen and I carried our plates to the living room. As we were sitting down, Manda came in from out back and started filling a plate. She curled up in her chair with it, ignoring us.
The dinner was good, but I wasn’t as hungry now, and my stomach was getting tight as I thought about the hunt. I ate the salad and the garlic bread, and a few bites of the shrimp—spicy, cajun, really good. I carried the rest into the kitchen and put it in a container, stashed it in the fridge for later. Filled two glasses with chilled water and went back to the living room.
Amanda glanced up at me. I offered her one of the glasses, but she shook her head. I gave it to Lomen and sat next to him, sipping.
I could tell he didn’t want me to worry. I also couldn’t help worrying, and I knew he knew that. We sat silent, just enjoying being close.
One of these nights I’d like to actually sleep together.
Except that I don’t sleep.
Well, you know what I mean.
Yes. We will. Soon.
I watched him polish off everything on his plate. The hunting must involve some physical activity, judging by how hungry he had been that morning. Or maybe just driving the car all night had worn him
out. I remembered a long drive I’d made once—Albuquerque to Los Angeles in one night, without stopping. I’d stayed awake on chocolate and caffeinated soda. Not fun.
All too soon, the others got up and started making farewell noises. Amanda stood and reached out a hand for Lomen’s plate. He gave it to her and took a long pull at his water.
The curtains over the west window were closed, but I could tell the sun was setting. The light around the edges was golden, and the picture window to the east gave a view of the mountains, all pink with sunset. Amanda came back to the living room and sat staring out that window.
Why did Savhoran keep the car? I thought he had a motorcycle.
He loaned it to Pirian.
I tried picturing Pirian on a bike. Too creepy. Plus, when had he learned to drive it? I’d have bet twenty bucks he didn’t have a license.
Nor do I.
I grimaced, and shielded. Lomen grinned at me.
A car pulled up outside. Amanda jumped up and went out the front door. The others came into the living room, and Lomen got up. I couldn’t help watching him.
Be careful. All of that.
All of that. I will be back before you wake.
Wake me yourself.
If you wish.
I felt a rush of tingling warmth, as if he’d just run his hands over my torso. I bit my lip.
No fair.
Good night, Steven. Sleep well, when you sleep.
They all went out. I carried our glasses to the kitchen, put Lomen’s in the dishwasher and refilled mine.
Len and Caeran were silent. I helped them tidy the kitchen. Did an extra shield before I indulged in speculation: were they talking, the way Lomen talked with me?
Probably.
We were done cleaning up by the time Manda came back in. She looked depressed, and made no objection when Caeran proposed bridge as the evening’s entertainment.
Len taught me the basics, and we played a few open hands. I already knew about trick games, having played a lot of Spades in high school, so I picked it up pretty fast.
Then they threw the bidding at me. My brain overloaded fast. Len gave me a cheat sheet that was six pages long, and I stumbled through a few hands. Once the bidding was over, I had no trouble playing out the hand, but I could tell it would take me a while to learn it.
I liked the game. Even when we switched partners and I played with Amanda, who was still in a surly mood. I managed not to annoy her too much.
We played until ten o’clock, then watched the news, then went to bed.
That became our evening routine for the next few days. Dinner with the clan, bridge or poker while they hunted, news and bed. Faranin and Bironan hung out on the back porch a lot. Most mornings they were out there meditating when I got my breakfast.
I didn’t see much of Lomen; certainly not as much as I would have liked. He spent most of Sunday catching up on his rest, while I dove into the molecular biology text, trying to get caught up. Then classes on Monday, and on into the week.
It was Thursday morning when Lomen woke me early. He had just come in, and instead of sliding into bed with me, he crouched beside it.
Steven.
I raised my head, startled, blinking.
We found them.
= 9 =
He went off to tell the others, leaving me to stumble out of bed and into some clothes. It was still dark. I got to the kitchen and put the kettle on, then stared at the coffee maker, too asleep to comprehend how to start it.
I heard the front door close. Amanda came in, looking disgustingly awake. She started coffee and pulled yogurt and strawberries out of the fridge. I got the tea brewing and set the timer, having had two lessons from Len during the week.
Voices in the living room. I wandered out and found all the hunters there, including Savhoran and Pirian. The hair on the back of my neck prickled at the sight of him. I almost turned around and went back to the bedroom.
Caeran was there, too, talking with them in ælven. They had filled up the couch and chairs, so I dragged more chairs over from the dining nook and sat in one, as far as possible from Pirian.
Len, in a robe over her nightclothes, brought out the tea tray and started pouring. I stepped into the kitchen, opting for coffee in the hope of waking up faster.
I glanced at the clock on the oven. Five-thirty.
Stifling a groan, I splashed a dollop of cream in my mug and went back out. Sat and listened to Caeran. He shifted to English when Manda came out of the kitchen.
“Pirian has talked to the alben. There are two of them, and they are a couple.” He looked at Pirian. “Their names?”
“We did not exchange names. Our conversation was brief.”
“Did you ask them not to hunt here?”
“I told them Clan Greystone would prefer they did not.”
“And their response?”
Pirian gave a small shrug. “They like it here.”
Savhoran turned to him. “Did you invite them to join Clan Ebonwatch?”
Pirian gave him a measuring look. “I did not have opportunity to explain the idea. You are more likely to convince them than I.”
“Perhaps we all should meet with them,” Bironan said.
“Not here!” said Len.
“No,” Caeran said, taking her hand. “They must not come here, or anywhere near our human kindred.”
“Were they hunting?” I asked.
Everyone stared at me. I looked at Savhoran.
“Was that where you found them? Were they out hunting?”
“No,” Savhoran said. “They are living in a motel on east Central. Lomen sensed their khi.”
“And Pirian knocked on their door,” Lomen said, looking at Pirian.
There was an undercurrent in the room that I couldn’t quite fathom. I looked at Pirian, but his face was neutral. Carefully so, I thought.
I shielded, just because it made me feel safer. Lomen shifted in his seat. Had he felt it?
Could they all tell when I shielded?
There was too much I didn’t know.
“Tomorrow night, we will approach them,” Caeran said. “I will go and speak to them as Greystone’s leader. Lomen, if you will stay here?”
Lomen nodded, and my heart did a little happy skip.
“How do you intend to compel them to leave, if they choose to stay?” Pirian asked.
“I hope we need not compel them. We should be able to persuade them either to go or to adopt the creed.”
Savhoran looked up at him. “Do we mention the cure?”
“There is no cure, at present,” said Pirian.
Caeran’s gaze shifted to him. “We can tell them of our hopes for one.”
Pirian did a half-nod, half-shrug. I got the feeling he found the conversation amusing.
The easiest thing would be if the alben would agree to go, but the thought didn’t make me happy. It would be good for Albuquerque; bad for Phoenix or Dallas or wherever they went next.
Best alternative? A good old vampire hunt, pitchforks and all?
I found myself uneasily wishing they’d agree to join Clan Ebonwatch. Trouble was, that clan was little more than a theory.
“Even without a cure, the Creed is worth the effort,” said Savhoran in a rough voice.
I glanced at Pirian. He didn’t radiate agreement.
“You have done well,” Caeran said, addressing all of the hunters. “Lomen and Pirian, thank you for locating the alben and making contact with them. We’ll meet here tonight and go together to talk to them. Now some of you must seek shelter before dawn.”
“And some of us have classes,” Manda muttered.
Savhoran and Pirian stood and went out. Manda followed them, and I winced, but Pirian probably already knew about her and Savhoran. For sure he knew about Caeran and Len.
Me and Lomen?
I went back to the kitchen and poured myself more coffee. I’d be buzzing, but I sure wasn’t going to get any more sleep.
The s
trawberries and yogurt were still out on the counter. I helped myself to some and stood staring out the kitchen window into the darkness as I ate.
The conversation in the living room picked up again, back in ælven. Len brought in the teapot, put the kettle on, and went away. Lomen joined me.
That looks good.
There’s more. Want some?
I turned to him and saw him smiling in a way that made my arms tingle.
Oh.
I finished the last bite of my yogurt and put the dish in the sink. Lomen headed for his room, and I followed.
He closed the door softly. Dawn was coming; a soft light seeped around the curtains. Lomen pulled me to him for a kiss.
Mmm. Strawberries.
I laughed and turned toward the bed.
A while later, lying spent and tangled with Lomen, I gradually became aware of the world again. I could hear the conversation in the living room, the gentle rise and fall of ælven cadences.
What are they talking about?
The new house on Madóran’s land. Mirali and her child.
Not the alben?
Them, too.
I tried to picture Caeran reasoning with the unknown alben who had committed two rather grisly murders on campus. The thought made me uncomfortable.
What’ll we do if they refuse to join Ebonwatch or leave?
Lomen didn’t answer immediately. I considered the clan’s past experiences dealing with alben, and concluded that it wouldn’t be pretty.
The fact that they are willing to talk at all is promising.
Not much comfort. I was glad that Lomen wouldn’t be at that night’s meeting, and aware that this was a selfish response.
What about a tip to the police? If things don’t go well at the meeting, I mean.
The police can’t control them, Steven.
My gut sank. We were on our own, then. Or the ælven were. Us feeble humans couldn’t help.
How many humans would it take to control an alben? Could an army do it?
Possibly. There was once an ælven who joined a raiding clan in Mongolia. He attained quite a reputation. He was eventually slain, but I believe it took a force of three hundred.
Wow. The cops wouldn’t send that many.
Not at first, and if we requested it, they would dismiss us.
As cranks. Yeah.
I buried my nose in his neck. Took a deep breath of him, pine-spice fragrance and our musk and his own delicious scent.