Brides of the Kindred Volume One

by Evangeline Anderson

  She was just going to try the shower instead when she heard a soft chiming at the door of the guest suite. Could it be Xairn coming back to continue their conversation?

  Wrapping the plush purple robe more tightly around herself, Lauren ran to open the green door. She was disappointed, however, to see that it wasn’t Xairn. Instead, a creature which looked very much like a crane, completely with long, skinny legs and a feathered orange crest on its head nodded at her from behind a bulky black cart.

  “Yes?” she said politely, keeping a firm hold on the door.

  The creature said something in a strange, burbling language and nodded at the cart with its long orange beak.

  “I’m sorry,” Lauren told it. “I don’t speak…whatever it is you’re speaking.”

  The crane-thing raised one arm—it did have arms, not wings at least, Lauren noted—and tapped a small silver box it was wearing around its neck. When it spoke again, the burbling somehow became English.

  “These are your evening comestibles, courtesy of Master Slk.”

  “Oh—dinner!” Suddenly Lauren was famished. It had been hours and hours since her last Kindred food cube and her stomach was rumbling. “Great.” She nodded eagerly at the tray with its domed metal cover. “Bring it in.”

  The stork-thing maneuvered the rolling cart into the small room with some difficulty, squeezing it between the bed and the couch. Then, with a flourish, it raised the lid from the tray and made her a short bow.

  “Oh, uh…wow.” Lauren’s enthusiasm faded quickly. The food on the tray looked strange and smelled even stranger. There was a mound of blue stuff that stuck together rather like rice except the grains were four times as big. Beside it sat a thin cut of what appeared to be ivory meat marbled with olive green streaks. And to finish the meal, there was a goblet filled to the brim with something that looked like clear, watery Jell-O. It jiggled in a most unappetizing way when Lauren poked it.

  “Only the finest comestibles for the guests of the House of Slk.” The stork creature sounded extremely proud to be serving her green streaked meat, giant blue rice and whatever the drink was.

  “Thank you.” Lauren smiled weakly. “Um…what is it?”

  “Thenolian slugs from the Serba region,” the stork said, pointing to the blue rice. “The prime cut of a venga’s brain pan,” pointing to the meat. “And your libation is purified slime from the wounds of a tren.”

  “Uh…slugs, brain and slime? That’s what’s on the menu?” Lauren tried not to sound as horrified as she felt. God, this stuff made the weird Grieza worms from the Kindred food cubes look positively delicious. Suddenly homesickness washed over her so strongly she had to gulp back tears. All she really wanted was a thick slice of her mom’s meatloaf and homemade mashed potatoes with brown gravy. Instead she got this. She knew she probably ought to be grateful—obviously this was the O’ah version of a gourmet banquet. But it was all she could do not to retch at the sight of it.

  “As I said, only the best for the guests of Master Slk,” the stork repeated, interrupting her dark thoughts. “Oh, but I almost forgot the most important part.”

  “There’s more?” Lauren said weakly.

  “Of course. Dessert.”

  “Dessert?” She wondered what in the world it could be. Probably some kind of pie made of alien bug intestines if the rest of the meal was any indication.

  “Dessert. A sweet confection eaten at the end of the meal,” the stork said, as though reciting a memorized definition. “We have no such thing in our culture, of course, but Master Slk told me that you do. He commanded me to bring you this.”

  With another flourish, it produced a small platter from a lower level of the cart and thrust it right under Lauren’s nose.

  Her first instinct was to recoil but before she could, a rich, familiar aroma assaulted her nose.

  “Chocolate?” She looked down at the small platter and saw a thick, fudgy brown rectangle sitting on it. “A brownie? Is that a brownie?”

  The stork nodded, its orange feathered crest rustling. “Master Slk said I must ask your pardon for it. He saw your liking for such confections inside your mind and commanded me to make it for you. He says to tell you he did not wish to pry, only to please.”

  “Tell him he’s forgiven.” Eagerly, Lauren picked up the delicious looking brownie and raised it to her lips. She was almost afraid to try it for fear it wouldn’t taste as good as it looked and smelled. But another whiff of the heavenly, chocolate aroma did away with her hesitation. Carefully, she took a small nibble from one corner. The rich, delicious and, best of all, familiar flavor exploded across her tongue and she took another, larger bite. And then another and another.

  Before she knew it there were nothing but a few fudgy crumbs left on the small platter. She looked at them in dismay—how in the world had she managed to inhale the brownie so quickly? Guilt poked at her—she should have saved half of it for Xairn. It was certainly a hell of a lot better than those horrible cardboard Poptarts he’d grown up eating on the Scourge Fathership.

  I’ll make it up to him, she told herself, licking her fingers. I’ll make him some of my Deep Dark Devil’s-food cupcakes as soon as we get home.

  In the mean time, she was beginning to feel warm and sleepy and content. Though she’d been wishing for a bath earlier, that somehow no longer seemed like a priority. Now all she wanted to do was lay down and sleep.

  “I trust it was to your satisfaction?”

  The stork’s voice startled her. It had been standing as still as a statue, watching her polish off the brownie, and Lauren had almost forgotten it was there at all.

  “Yesh, it wash…was d’lishious,” she said and frowned. Why was she slurring her words? And why was the room swaying around her? She tried to take a step and fell. Luckily she landed on the bed, which was just beside her, but she was lying at an awkward angle with one arm pinned under her and her other hand dangling limply off the edge of the mattress. “Wha…wha’s goin’ on?” she slurred, trying to look at the stork. Her eyes kept crossing and there appeared to be two of him in the room. If it was a him—she realized she didn’t even know.

  “The effects are temporary,” he/it said, coming toward her. “And regrettably necessary. I must finish my assignment before Master Xairn comes back.”

  “Wha ‘signment?” Lauren asked but her voice sounded weak and slow.

  “This.” The stork took a firm grip on her hand—the one dangling limply over the edge of the bed—and raised what looked like a massive pair of red metallic fingernail clippers.

  “Wha—?” Lauren started to say and then there was a muffled snap and she felt a sharp agony at the base of her little finger. My finger! Oh my God, he cut off my finger!

  But though she was freaking out inside, she was now completely paralyzed. There was nothing she could do but watch as the stork applied some clear gel to the bloody stump of her finger and then sprinkled it with strange pink granules.

  “There. Rest now,” it said, nodding at her.

  How am I supposed to rest? You cut off my freaking finger! But despite her horror and the sharp ache in her hand, she could feel her eyelids closing. Have to wake up! Have to find Xairn, tell him…warn him…

  But then her eyes closed and the world was eaten by sleep.

  * * * * *

  Xairn wandered the house for awhile, looking at Slk’s gallery of art and oddments. Vrr had had quite an impressive collection and his son had added to it. Many of the displays were alive and a good number of them were obviously Slk’s work. His talent at DNA recombination was plain to see, which Xairn supposed should make him feel confident.

  Instead he had a feeling of dread. What if his own DNA infected Lauren somehow? What if it already had? Could that be the reason she still wanted and trusted him, even after he had revealed the vile and cruel practices of his people? Xairn could think of no other reason why she would still want to be with him after hearing the Scourge mating practices.

  Well, h
e would just have to make even more of an effort to stay away from her, he decided. If she didn’t have enough survival instinct to stay away from him, that was. Though the gods knew how hard that was going to be. Every time he saw her he wanted her more. Wanted to make her his, to mark her as his own forever… No!

  Shaking his head, Xairn took a deep breath and decided to return to the room. Lauren had been alone long enough and he couldn’t avoid being near her forever.

  When he got back to the green door, he found one of Slk’s servants just leaving. It was a Bleek and it nodded its long beak genially as it left. “There are evening comestibles for you, Master Xairn. Mistress Lauren has already eaten and is resting.”

  Xairn frowned. “She’s resting? You mean she’s already gone to sleep?”

  “The effects of the gene alteration.” The Bleek seemed to speak a little too quickly. “It makes one tired sometimes. I bid you good evening, Master.” It took off in an awkward trot down the hallway on its long, backward bending legs.

  Still frowning, Xairn pushed his way into a room and stepped around a cart laden with O’ah delicacies. Sure enough, Lauren was tucked neatly into the sleeping platform, one arm beneath the covers and the other resting at her side. She was breathing softly and evenly, her silky hair spread across the pillow like a shining river of midnight black.

  So beautiful, he thought, tracing the delicate lines of her face with his eyes. So perfect and pure and sweet… Too perfect and sweet for one such as him, he was sure. No matter how much he wanted her, Lauren wasn’t for him.

  Sighing, he looked down at the food cart. After years of eating only nutra-wafers, he found such fare mildly repulsive. It didn’t look like it had appealed to Lauren either—nothing appeared to have been touched. Xairn frowned. Hadn’t the Bleek said she had eaten? Well, maybe she had tasted a bite of everything to be polite. Whatever the case, Xairn didn’t want any.

  He pushed the cart outside into the hallway and then went back to the bathroom, intending to take a shower before going to bed. He frowned when he saw that someone had run a glira bath and then let it go cold in the tub. Had Lauren done that? And why hadn’t she emptied the tub when she was finished? Now the glira had congealed into a solid lump which would have to be cut into chunks and removed manually rather than washing down the drain. Well, Xairn decided wearily, he would let Slk’s servants deal with it in the morning. Just now he felt incredibly tired.

  He took a quick shower, noting that the wound Lauren had doctored was healing well. Drying off, he dumped his clothes into the cleaning cabinet. They took only a moment and he pulled them out fresh and clean when a low chime sounded. He bundled them under his arm and, wearing only a towel, went back into the bedroom.

  Lauren was still asleep, the expression on her lovely features serene and peaceful. Xairn looked longingly at the empty side of the bed and then turned his attention to the couch. It was far too short for his long frame and the cushions looked lumpy. Still, he had told Lauren he would sleep there and he intended to keep his word.

  Sighing, he settled himself on the cushions only to jump up again a moment later when something poked him sharply in the ass. Xairn pressed the cushion gingerly with his fingers and gave a muffled curse when the cushion pushed back. Flarns. The damn thing is stuffed with flarns!

  The finger-long insects also known as “massage bugs” were native to this solar system and were often used in high-end furnishings. They lived just between the upholstery and the padding and poked and prodded anyone who sat on them giving a “massage” that many claimed to enjoy.

  Xairn was not a flarn enthusiast. And even if he had been, he had no desire to be “massaged” all night when he was trying to sleep. Sighing heavily, he looked around the cramped room. He could take the floor, of course. It probably wasn’t much harder than the sleeping platform he’d used his entire life aboard the Fathership. The Scourge didn’t believe in luxuries and lived a Spartan existence filled with hardship and self-denial. Well, all except for the AllFather, but Xairn didn’t want to think about his father now. Some things were best left forgotten.

  Instead he looked at the bed again. Lauren was resting so peacefully he was certain he wouldn’t disturb her if he just lay down on the very edge of the empty side. And he knew he could trust himself not to harm her in such a helpless state. It was only when she was awake and touching him, looking at him with those gorgeous amber eyes, that the disturbing urges rose within him.

  It was late and he was bone weary. For days he’d been running, fighting, and bargaining, trying to keep Lauren safe and find a way to get her back to her planet in one piece. He was sure she wouldn’t mind letting him share her sleeping accommodations, just this once.

  I’ll sleep on top of the covers, he told himself, going around to the empty side of the bed and pulling his under shorts back on. To make certain nothing can happen. Not that he thought anything would happen, but if Lauren should wake up in the middle of the night and decide to reach for him, he wanted to have some barrier, however flimsy, between them.

  He settled carefully on the empty side of the gellafoam mattress, keeping an eye on Lauren as he did. She shifted slightly in her sleep and murmured something that sounded like his name, but her eyes stayed closed and she didn’t wake even when he lay all the way down.

  When he was sure she wasn’t going to wake up, Xairn breathed a sigh of relief and allowed himself to relax completely. Thank all the gods that ever were the sleeping platform isn’t filled with flarns as well! With a good night’s rest, he was certain he’d be a new male in the morning. Both literally and figuratively, because in the morning he would see exactly what effect Lauren’s DNA had had on him—and his on her. Please, he thought, turning his head to study her exquisite profile. Please don’t let her be hurt by my genes. Don’t let her be polluted by the evil in my blood.

  At least she looked the same so far. Still lovely. Still pure and undefiled. Xairn prayed she would stay that way, though he hardly knew who he was praying to.

  “Lights, dim,” he whispered hoarsely. At once, the room was plunged into shadow. Because Scourge had excellent night vision, he could still see her, but her features were muted and indistinct. She was still beautiful, though, still Lauren.

  Without thinking, Xairn reached for her hand, the one that was lying on top of the covers. Taking it in his own, he laced their fingers together just as Lauren had when she was holding his hand earlier. As he squeezed her fingers gently, he felt a tingling throughout his entire body. Was it her DNA having an effect on him, changing him forever? Xairn was too tired to care.

  With a deep sigh, he closed his eyes and let sleep take him.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Somewhere in the dark reaches of space a pair of red-on-black eyes opened and a low, frustrated hiss filled the air.

  The AllFather sat up, his skeletal frame still dripping with the nutrient slime of his personal pit. He never ingested food or drink, preferring to take physical nourishment through his tightly-stretched, paper-thin skin. It was emotional sustenance that he truly craved—that he could not live without. And now that Xairn had run and taken the human girl with him, the AllFather had none.

  “Ssstupid fool.” Rising, he stepped from the pit and began to pace. The greenish slime, impregnated with the poisonous, tainted metal at the core of the Scourge home world, slid from his body and splattered on the metal flooring.

  Having recovered with some difficulty from the confrontation with the damned Kindred deity, the AllFather was back aboard the Fathership and heading for the Maw Cluster. He could feel that Xairn and the girl had gone there—could sense them like two pinpricks of light far away on a distant horizon. Their traces were faint but he could follow them, sniffing out the familiar scents like an urlich hot on a scent.

  Or he had been able to until just a few moments ago.

  Closing his burning eyes, the AllFather cast his dark net again, flinging his consciousness out into the blackness of space like a pois
onous spider flinging a strand of toxic silk.

  But there was nothing. The lights had disappeared, the traces had vanished.

  Where could they have gone? Were they dead somewhere, the flimsy little ship Xairn had stolen crashed into the side of a stray asteroid?

  The AllFather felt no sorrow at the thought—only rage. Rage that his only son and best source of nourishment should have escaped him so completely.

  But he didn’t truly believe that Xairn was dead, or Lauren either. His son had developed a ridiculous fascination with the human girl. Knowing him, he would go to great lengths to protect her. Just as he had tried to protect the common urlich which he had taken for a pet. The AllFather well remembered how foolishly attached the boy had become to it—how upset he had been at the dumb beast’s demise.

  But why the Maw Cluster? There was nothing of interest there—nothing but the thuggish splicers, constantly carving each other up and recombining the DNA into different configurations. Always…

  The AllFather stopped pacing abruptly. His long, skeletal hands squeezed into fists. Of course. Their DNA—Xairn has taken her there to get their DNA changed. And he’s succeeded—their signatures are completely different now. No wonder I have lost sight of them!

  The AllFather threw back his head and let out a long, hissing howl that echoed through the entire ship. Far down the bleak, empty corridors of the Fathership, the urlich heard him in their kennels and took up the cry.

  “Gone!” the AllFather screamed, as his personal guard came running to find out what was wrong. “He’sss taken her away and changed her. They are gone forever from my sssight. Gone!”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Lauren woke suddenly from a horrible dream about a pair of big red scissors cutting off her hand. No, not my hand—it was my finger. My pinky finger.