“Take from me, Talana.” Sylvan stroked her cheek, holding her gaze with his own. “I want you to.”
Sophie lapped at his wrist again, taking more of his sweet, strong blood in her mouth, and felt another warm tingle race through her. The heat was spreading up her arms and legs into her core and it seemed to be pooling between her legs, somehow. Her pussy suddenly felt swollen and sensitive, just as it had when he marked her, tasted her…
“It’s good,” she whispered, taking another small lick. “I didn’t think it would be but…I like it. Is that strange?”
“It’s because you are as attuned to me as I am to you,” he murmured. “Tell me, does it give you pleasure to drink of me?”
“Drink of me…I like that.” Sophie took another lingering lick, feeling the rush of tingling warmth that flowed directly to the tender spot between her thighs. “Yes,” she admitted softly. “It does give me pleasure. It’s almost like I can feel it—the effects of your blood, I mean—uh, everywhere.” A wave of embarrassment washed over her and she wondered if he knew what was really happening to her every time she took another taste.
From the way Sylvan’s eyes were half-lidded with lust, he knew exactly how his blood was affecting her. “Are you wet, my numala?” he murmured, catching her gaze and holding it with his own. “Do you feel the pleasure of my blood between your thighs?”
Biting her lip, Sophie nodded. “Yes,” she whispered. “I…I do. Do…” She cleared her throat. “Do you feel the same way when you taste my blood?”
He nodded. “Your blood, your honey…as I said, my body is attuned to yours now.” His voice was a soft growl. “Everything about you makes me want you. Even the way you take my blood.”
Sophia’s eyes flickered down to the thick outline of his cock, pressing against the fabric of his black flight pants. “I…I’m sorry,” she whispered, feeling flustered. “I didn’t mean to—”
“I know you didn’t.” He shook his head. “The fault is mine.”
“Sylvan…”
“It’s all right,” he assured her. “Just drink of me one more time to be certain you’re well and we’ll say no more about it.”
“Are you sure you want me to?”
“When will I ever get the chance to give you the gift of blood again? To feel your soft lips pressed to my flesh as you take what only I can give you?” His voice was hoarse with need and longing. “Yes, Sophia, I’m sure. Drink of me. Drink and be healed. Drink and be pleasured.”
His soft words seemed to do something inside her, to touch and caress her exactly where the tingling warmth of his blood had already started a fire. Feeling like she was drowning in lust, Sophie met his eyes and flattened her tongue against his wrist to take another long, slow, lick of his blood…
“I see you’ve arrived in one piece, son of my sister,” said a high, feminine voice behind her. “It’s so good to see you again after all these…oh dear!”
Sophie was so startled she jerked away. At the same time, Sylvan pulled his wrist back and turned to look at whoever was speaking.
“Mother’s sister,” he said steadily to the tall, thin woman with pale blonde hair and light blue eyes, who was standing there in the stone hallway behind them. “I am pleased you came to meet us.”
“We wouldn’t have come if we knew you’d be doing…this. Really, Sylvan, it’s hardly appropriate—especially in a public place like the access tunnel!” She had her arms crossed over her narrow bosom and her thin lips were drawn in a tight line of disapproval. Behind her was a man who was almost as tall as Sylvan but of a much thinner and slighter build. His dishwater blond hair was thinning, showing a pinkish scalp and he had a long, boney face that was also drawn in deep lines of condemnation. To Sophie he looked like a large, hairless cat.
“I am sorry, Mother’s sister,” Sylvan said, nodding his head. “It was regrettably necessary. Sophia had frostbite in all her extremities and I had to, uh, stimulate her system.”
At the word “stimulate” their faces grew red. They were both dressed, Sophie saw, in thin pastel furs that seemed to be cut into clothes. The woman’s pale pink fur was made up into a long, sleek dress that fell elegantly from her neck to her ankles but the man’s pale green fur was tied at the side into a kind of loincloth that barely reached the middle of his thighs. His narrow, scrawny chest and long, skinny white legs were bare and he was wearing a pair of huge furry purple boots that made Sophie want to laugh. But she held back the giggle that rose in her throat—clearly these were Sylvan’s aunt and uncle and just as clearly they weren’t happy.
Sylvan’s uncle cleared his throat uncomfortably. “Sharing the gift of blood is a private, Kindred matter, best kept behind closed doors,” he said, addressing Sylvan. “While you stay with us, you and your bride will please remember that.”
“She’s not my bride.”
“What?” If Sylvan’s aunt’s eyebrows got any higher they were going to disappear into her hairline. “She’s not even bonded to you and you were giving her the gift of blood? Have you no shame?”
Sylvan sighed and stood up to face them. “As I said, it was necessary.”
“Well it had better not be necessary again,” blustered his uncle. “After all, we have an impressionable young daughter to consider. Nadiah doesn’t need to see such things.”
Sylvan nodded. “I understand. It won’t happen again.”
“Well good.” He nodded curtly. “Since we understand each other, your mother’s sister and I offer you and your, er, female friend, the hospitality of our home.”
“Thank you. Sophia and I accept.” Sylvan looked down at her. “We should go. Can you walk?”
“I…I think so.” She was still sitting on the hard, stone bench. When she tried to stand, her legs folded under her. Had exposure to the extreme cold made her weak or was it some side effect of taking his blood? “I’m sorry,” she said as Sylvan swung her up into his arms again.
“Don’t worry. I don’t mind carrying you.” He smiled.
“Thank you.” Sophie smiled back gratefully…until she saw the disapproving way his aunt and uncle were looking at her. “Uh, unless it’s against some kind of law or custom,” she added hastily. “I don’t want to offend anyone.”
“It’s not a problem,” Sylvan assured her and looked at his aunt for confirmation. “Is it, mother’s sister?”
She shook her head curtly, though she still looked to Sophie like she’d been sucking an unripe persimmon. “No. Not as long as that’s all you do.”
“You have my word that no more intimacies will be performed in public or in private,” Sylvan said, looking her in the eye. “I have foresworn myself of Sophia for reasons I choose not to discuss.”
“Well then, that’s a different matter.” His uncle gave Sophia a tight smile which wasn’t much better than his disapproving frown. “I’ll let that be known at the feast when we introduce you and your guest.”
“Very well.” Sylvan looked almost as unhappy as Sophie felt. It was a shame that he had to tell everyone they weren’t together in such a public way. She had been feeling so close to him after he saved her yet again. The taste of his blood lingered on her tongue and the tingling feeling between her thighs hadn’t quite dissipated either. And he smelled so good…
Stop it, she told herself sternly. It’s better not to wish for things you can’t have. Because you can’t just have one part of him. It was true but it still made her frustrated and sad. Sighing deeply, she laid her head on his broad shoulder and watched as his aunt and uncle preceded them down the long, stone corridor that seemed to go on forever.
* * * * *
Sylvan was filled irritation as he followed his kin down the access tunnel that led to the main grotto. His mother’s sister Zeelah and her mate Grennly were still as prudish as ever. Maybe even more so than last time he’d seen them. He wondered if they were out and out Purists yet or if they were still teetering on the edge of that controversy. It was one he would rather not get into him
self, if he could help it. He was Kindred, born and bred and he couldn’t help it if his mother’s people disapproved of that.
“Sylvan?” Sophia’s voice was so low in his ear than Sylvan almost didn’t hear her.
“Yes?” He glanced down to see Sophia looking up at him with an uncertain look on her face.
“Don’t take this the wrong way,” she whispered. “But, uh, your aunt and uncle seem really…upset. Maybe we shouldn’t stay with them.”
Sylvan frowned. “There is no place else for us to stay unless you wish to sleep in the public reflection area.”
“The what?”
“It’s an open area in the middle of the grotto, something like what your people call a park. But it’s strictly for meditation and other serious pursuits. I don’t think my people would like us sleeping there but if you dislike my kin so much—”
“It’s not that I dislike them,” she protested. “I just don’t want to impose. Couldn’t we stay at a motel or something?”
“You mean a temporary lodging for guests who need a place to sleep? The kind you have on Earth?”
She nodded. “Yeah, one of those. It doesn’t have to be the Hilton or anything. We could even stay at the Tranq Prime Motel Six—I don’t care.”
“We have no such lodgings,” Sylvan told her. “Tranq Prime is a closed world. Unless you have kin here to stay with, you don’t stay.”
“Oh.” Her face fell. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize.”
“Everything will be all right,” Sylvan assured her, hoping it was true. “You’ll have a room of your own for some privacy and you’ll like my mother’s sister’s daughter, Nadiah. She’s very…outspoken. Or she was the last time I saw her.”
“So we won’t be staying together?” She looked a little frightened.
“We’re not bonded,” Sylvan pointed out. “My mother’s sister would never let us share a room—it wouldn’t be proper. But don’t worry,” he added, trying to dispel the worried look in her lovely green eyes. “I’ll always be nearby. I won’t let anything happen to you, Sophia.”
“I know.” She gave him a little smile that seemed to tug at his heart. “I’m sorry, Sylvan. I don’t mean to be a baby. It’s just that I’ve never been away from Earth before and you’re the only person I know on this entire planet. In this entire solar system, for that matter.”
And that’s the way I want to keep it. Want to take you away with me and keep you safe and protected somewhere private where it’s just the two of us. He knew it was a dream that could never come true but he couldn’t help himself. Giving her the gift of blood had stirred him almost unbearably. The feel of her soft lips and warm tongue against his skin, the look in her eyes and the way her scent had changed, letting him know that she was getting wet, getting ready…
“Oh my!” Sophie’s awed exclamation drew him out of his reverie and he realized that they had passed through the access tunnel and were entering the main grotto.
“Do you like it?” he asked as she looked around the huge underground space that encompassed the grotto.
* * * * *
“Do I like it?” Sophie breathed. “It…it’s beautiful. I can’t stop looking at it.”
When Sylvan had spoken of his people living underground, she had immediately thought of a vacation her family had once taken to some natural caverns in the mountains of Tennessee. The caves had been dark and spooky with cool, damp, stagnant air that smelled strangely of nothing. Everything she touched had left a smear of reddish clay on her fingers and the gritty crunch of pebbles under her feet had echoed eerily in the wide, empty spaces that had never seen light.
The whole experience had been horribly claustrophobic because she kept thinking of all the tons and tons of rock above her head and how there was only one way out of the cave. To make things worse, the guide went on and on about people who had started exploring and then couldn’t find their way out again. Sophie couldn’t help thinking about what an awful way it would be to die—alone in the dark after your candle or flashlight had gone out, knowing that no one could hear your echoing screams…
So that—or something like it—was what she’d been expecting when they entered the grotto. What she saw couldn’t have been more different.
The space was vast, for one thing—at least as big as two football fields put together. And it was open and airy, so that she could only dimly see the natural rock ceiling glinting far above. The plain brown walls of the tunnel had given way to vast sheets of pinkish rock that were streaked with what must be mineral deposits in every imaginable color. A purplish-blue vegetation that reminded Sophie of moss covered the floor which sloped down to a center area where a grove of pale trees with silvery leaves grew around a still blue lake.
Thick pillars of deep, maroon stone stood here and there, stretching up to the ceiling like giant petrified redwoods. They had been carved with golden letters in some language Sophie didn’t know…or did she? As she stared, they began to make sense. Must be the translation bacteria at work, she thought, delighted to suddenly be able to read a whole other language without effort. Too bad she hadn’t had something like this back when she took high school Spanish!
“Peace,” she read aloud softly. “Prosperity. And—”
“Purity,” Sylvan finished for her in a low voice.
“Purity?” Sophie frowned. “Is, uh, everyone here super religious or something?”
“No, they aren’t speaking of sexual or spiritual purity—the runes refer to purity of the blood. As I said, Tranq Prime is a closed world. They don’t interbreed with off-worlders and they’re very proud of their untainted bloodlines.”
“They don’t? But what about the trade they made with you guys? With the
Kindred?”
“Done strictly out of necessity because of the epidemic of Blood Fever. The native Primes had to trade with the Kindred or die out as a race. Now that a vaccine has been developed and the disease has been all but eradicated, there are many who say the trade should end and the Kindred shouldn’t be allowed to call brides from Tranq Prime any longer. Kindred warriors used to be considered very desirable mates…but no longer. ”
There was a deep bitterness in his tone that Sophie had never heard before. It made her wonder if he had somehow been personally affected by the elitist attitude of the natives. But how could that be? He had vowed never to call a bride, hadn’t he?
“That’s awful,” she exclaimed, a little louder than she’d meant to. Sylvan’s aunt looked back and Sophie nodded and smiled until she turned around again. “I mean, you saved them, didn’t you?” she went on in a lower voice. “And how long have the Kindred been here?”
“Thousands of years.” He shrugged. “But the Primes are a stubborn people with a long memory. The Kindred have never really been welcome—they’ve only tolerated us because they needed us. Now they don’t anymore.”
“Of all the rude, ungrateful—” Sophie stopped abruptly when Sylvan’s aunt turned to look at her again.
“Do you find our grotto to your liking, Sophia?” She pronounced Sophie’s name with a lilting accent that made it sound exotic.
“It’s beautiful,” Sophie said truthfully. “But where do you live?” She supposed that the open area in the center with the lake and silver trees must be the public reflection area that Sylvan had spoken of, but she had yet to see any kind of houses or shops or other signs of life other than the few tall, blond people walking purposefully through the grotto.
“Our dwelling is an offshoot of the central corridor.” Sylvan’s aunt sounded proud, as though this information was important. “Come, we’ll be there soon and you can refresh yourself and put on some decent clothing.” The vranna fur had fallen open and she eyed the sundress Sophie had on under it with apparent disapproval.
“Oh, I’m sorry.” Sophie hastily snatched the robe closed, although to be honest, she was beginning to feel overheated and stuffy in it. How in the world did they keep it so warm down here when it was so in
credibly cold on the surface? Looking at the reflection area again she noticed steam rising from the lake. Could that be the answer?
Before she could ask, they were turning down a wide stone tunnel made of the same pinkish-rainbow streaked rock as the grotto. Along the tall, curving walls there were evenly spaced doors that seemed to be made of the same deep maroon stone as the pillars that supported the roof of the main grotto. After walking about halfway down the wide stone hallway, Sylvan’s uncle and aunt stopped in front of a door with raised golden designs on it.
Sylvan’s uncle produced an elaborate gold metal hook as long as his hand and began to fit it into the depression in the center of the doorway. But before he could finish, the door swung open revealing a tall, slender girl with bright blue eyes. Her hair was the same pale blonde that Sophie had seen on almost everyone else, but it was frosted with blue and purple tips. It was cut pixie short except for one long braid running from the very center of her scalp which had been dyed a glossy black. She was wearing a thin fur dress similar to Sylvan’s aunt’s, but hers was a vivid purple.
“Omigoddess! Sylvan!” the girl squealed when she saw him standing behind his aunt and uncle. Rushing past them she reached up to plant an enthusiastic kiss on his cheek. Then she looked at Sophie who was still cradled in his arms. “And you must be the off-worlder he brought with him. Your hair is just gorgeous! So exotic! I wish I could go all the way dark but Mamam won’t let me.”
“Because a true daughter of Tranq Prime has hair and skin the color of star moss,” Sylvan’s aunt said reprovingly. “It’s bad enough what you’ve done with your hair already, Nadiah.”
“Oh Mamam, you’re so old fashioned!” Nadiah put a hand on her hip and sighed loudly. Then she turned to Sylvan and Sophie again. “Come on, I’ll show you to your room.”
“There’s been a change of plans, Nadiah.” Sylvan’s uncle frowned. “Sylvan and his guest will be in separate rooms. “Sylvan may have the guest room in the far East corner of the domicile and Sophia may have the room right beside yours. They’re…ahem…not bonded.” He turned bright red at the announcement and so did Nadiah but with excitement, not embarrassment.
Hunted_Book 2 Brides of the Kindred Page 34