Brides of the Kindred Volume One

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Brides of the Kindred Volume One Page 150

by Evangeline Anderson


  “You tell me.” Rast walked up to the base the statue was standing on and patted the female giant’s shoe. “You’re the one that saw the abduction, right?”

  “I did see it,” Nadiah acknowledged. “But only briefly in my vision.” She turned to face him. “So now that I’ve confirmed it, what do you want from me? Why bring me all the way down here to Earth?”

  Rast ran a hand through his hair in a frustrated gesture. “Because…damn it. I hate doing this, but…can you get readings on people from touching things that belonged to them?”

  “I don’t know,” Nadiah said honestly. “I haven’t had the Sight for very long. I guess I could try.”

  “Okay, wait here.” Rast walked back to the car and she could hear him muttering to himself, “Can’t believe I’m doing this. So stupid…”

  When he came back he was holding a clear bag filled with fabric in one hand. “Here.” He thrust the bag at Nadiah. “See what you can get from those.”

  “Is this her tharp…er, her clothes?” Nadiah took the bag gingerly.

  Rast nodded. “The ones she was wearing when she disappeared.”

  “But what do you expect me to learn from these?” Nadiah asked. “I already told you where she was and who has her.”

  Rast frowned. “Just get what you can, all right?”

  Nadiah narrowed her eyes at him. “If this is some kind of test I don’t see how I can possibly pass it. Why are you asking me to use a power you don’t believe in?”

  “Because I’m desperate, all right?” Rast shot back. “The first twenty-four hours are critical. Tabitha was standing right here, by this statue when she disappeared. Her friends said she was there one minute and gone the next. We have the clothes she was wearing and nothing else.”

  Nadiah shrugged. “I’ll try. But I won’t promise anything.”

  “I’m not asking for a promise. Just do your best.”

  “All right. But I’m doing this for Tabitha—not for you.” Opening the clear bag, Nadiah put her hand in and felt the strange material Earth people wore to cover themselves. It was soft but dead, not living like her own tharp. She couldn’t imagine wearing such stuff close to her skin for any length of time.

  “Well?” Rast looked at her sharply. “Anything?”

  “Sorry.” Nadiah shook her head. “I don’t see anyth—” Suddenly the bright, sunny Sarasota day disappeared from her view and a cloud of blackness replaced it. Nadiah drew in a breath at what she saw.

  The girl who looked vaguely like Lauren was lying face up on a bare metal floor. She was naked and stiff, her sightless eyes staring at the metal ceiling above. It was clear from the look on her face that she had died in agony. Her fingers were curled into fists and her lips were frozen in a snarl of pain.

  But it’s over now. All over now for her. Oh Tabitha, you poor thing…

  “Hey.” Rast’s voice, surprisingly soft, cut through the horrifying vision.

  “What?” Nadiah blinked and the dead girl was gone, replaced by the bright Florida sunshine.

  “You’re crying again.” Rast cupped her cheek gently and swiped a thumb under one eye. “What did you see? Is she okay?”

  “She’s beyond our help.” Sniffing, Nadiah handed him back the bag of clothing. “She’s dead.”

  “What?” Rast looked startled. “How can you be sure?”

  “Because I saw her, lying naked and dead on the floor.” Nadiah pressed the heels of her hands to her eyes, wishing she could push the vision away. “I saw her and now I can’t unsee her. Goddess, I wish I could.”

  “Well at least you’re not offering any false hope,” Rast muttered. “Most of you people just keep stringing them along—”

  “You people?” Nadiah took her hands away from her eyes and glared at him. “Just what do you mean by that, Detective?”

  He shrugged uncomfortably. “You know—psychics. Mediums. Anybody who deals with that spirit world mumbo-jumbo.”

  Nadiah put her hands on her hips. “Don’t you dare label me like that! I am a full blooded daughter of Tranq Prime with the Sight and I assure you, you have never met anyone like me before.”

  “You got that right, sweetheart.” He raised an eyebrow at her. “But that’s not necessarily a good thing.”

  Nadia poked a finger at him. “I am here at your request. I came down to a strange planet and subjected myself to horrible visions all to gratify your curiosity. And this is how you treat me?” Her hand itched to slap him but she curled it into a fist at her side instead.

  Rast must have seen the instinctive gesture because a mocking smile curved one side of his mouth. “You want to slap me, is that it? Go ahead, sweetheart—take your best shot.”

  Nadiah’s hand shot out before she could stop herself and she did just that. The flat smack of her palm against his cheek seemed inordinately loud.

  Rast put a hand to his face where a red mark was already growing, his truegreen eyes filled with surprise. “Ow, that’s quite a punch you’re packing. Didn’t really think you’d do it.”

  “Think again before you offer me another free shot, Detective. I won’t hesitate to take it.” Nadiah was breathing hard, still tense with emotion. Her hand stung from slapping him and there was a dull ache around her heart. She blew out a breath, trying to get hold of herself. “Take me back to the HKR building. I’ve had enough of you and your attitude to last me a lifetime.”

  He seemed about to say something else but then he simply nodded. “Fine, let’s go.”

  Nadiah didn’t speak a word to him on the way back. She kept her eyes closed and let the warm breeze blow through her hair. She tried not to think of the vision she’d had but it was no use. Over and over she saw the wide, sightless eyes, the clenched fists, the agonized expression.

  And in the background she seemed to hear low, hissing laughter.

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Lauren lay in the darkness and tried not to cry. Her whole body felt like it was bunched into a knot but she was afraid to move. Afraid to let herself go the way she wanted to. Beside her Xairn shifted and she held her breath, waiting. Then he turned on his side and his breathing became soft and even again.

  Lauren let out a stifled breath of relief. She loved Xairn as much as ever—more if that was possible. But it had been almost a week now and having him here on Earth with her just wasn’t working out the way she’d hoped.

  To start with, she shouldn’t have invited her mom to go on their shopping trip. Her mother was a wonderful, caring women but she had very definite ideas on fashion. Whereas Lauren would have taken her new man to Wal Mart or Target to get some sensible clothes, her mother had insisted on taking Xairn on a tour of all the most expensive boutiques and department stores in Sarasota.

  That was how Lauren learned that Xairn, while alien in many respects, did share one almost universal characteristic with human males. In other words, he hated to shop. Not that he said as much to her mother, but Lauren could tell by the impatient look in his eyes and the clipped tone of his voice as they went from store to store to store trying on more and more clothes.

  He also didn’t like the fact that Abby was footing the bill for his expensive new wardrobe. Lauren had been forced to take him aside and beg him to let her mom pay. She was, after all, only showing her gratitude to him for saving Lauren’s life the only way she could. Xairn had grudgingly agreed but he hadn’t been happy about it.

  Lauren had to admit that her mom had good taste—Xairn did look fabulous in his new GQ wardrobe. Fabulous but very unhappy. He asked her several times why they couldn’t simply find a few functional pieces and leave it at that. “I have never owned this much clothing in my life,” he protested near the end of the day when Abby tried to get him to try on just one more Armani suit. “Where will I wear all of it?”

  “Mom, he has a point,” Lauren had said wearily. “He’ll probably just be helping me in my shop. That fancy suit won’t look too good once it’s coated in cake flour.”

  “Oh
, all right.” Abby had thrown up her hands and sighed. “We’ll just take what we’ve already got. You can take that off, Xairn.”

  “Good.” Xairn’s voice had been almost a growl. Instead of going back into the dressing room, he’d ripped off the suit jacket and begun unbuttoning the Egyptian cotton shirt. Unfortunately, that put his chest on display. Lauren heard a muted gasp from her mother as the raised black lines of the brand came into view.

  “My God,” she whispered to Lauren, her eyes still fixed on Xairn’s muscular chest. “What the hell did you do to him, sweetheart? Why did you tattoo your name across his chest?”

  “I didn’t do it,” Lauren protested, feeling embarrassed.

  “But honey, that’s your handwriting,” her mother protested. “I’d recognize it anywhere.” She gave Lauren a disapproving look. “He’s a very handsome man and I can understand you wanting to mark your territory, but did you really have to sign him like a Christmas card?”

  “I didn’t—”

  “Lauren did not do this.” Xairn came to stand in front of them, his bare chest still exposed. Other people in the shop were staring now and Lauren could feel her cheeks getting hot.

  “She…she didn’t?” Abby faltered, looking up at him.

  “No. Another did it, but I allowed them to do it willingly, so do not blame Lauren.” Xairn frowned. “She is burned into my flesh as she is burned into my heart. I love her.”

  “You do?” Abby didn’t sound entirely happy about it.

  Xairn’s eyes narrowed but Lauren was relieved to see that they didn’t flash back to their old color scheme this time. “Would I be here, allowing myself to be dressed and undressed like some sort of doll if I didn’t love her? What male needs such a ridiculous array of garments?”

  “Xairn!” Lauren said helplessly. “Please, Mom’s just trying to get you the right clothes to blend in.”

  “To blend in where?” Xairn looked down at the expensive slacks he had on with a sneer. “A male harem, perhaps?” He shook his head and looked at Abby. “I appreciate your generosity but I am through with this. I am going back to Lauren’s living space.”

  And that had been the end of the shopping trip.

  Lauren had apologized to both of them separately but the damage had been done. Xairn thought her mother was controlling and officious and her mother thought he was some kind of a nut who was willing to get himself tattooed with her daughter’s name after only knowing her for a short time. The only consolation, as far as Lauren was concerned, was that her mother thought it was a tattoo. If she knew that the signature was a brand, that Lauren’s name had actually been burned into Xairn’s flesh, who knew what she might have thought?

  Lauren sighed and rolled over to look at the clock. Five AM. The alarm would be going off soon. If she went back to sleep now, she could get at least another thirty minutes. But her mind wouldn’t shut off. The disastrous shopping trip had been bad enough but it wasn’t the only reason she was upset. Her program of casual, non-sexual touching just wasn’t going very well.

  Oh, Xairn allowed her to touch him all she wanted to. He tolerated it when she ran her fingers through his hair and kissed his cheek and sat in his lap but for Lauren it was like loving a statue. Because though he tolerated her affection, he never returned it. He never hugged her, never kissed her, never even put an arm around her shoulders unless she prompted him to do it. And the entire time they were close, she could feel the tension coursing through his body. It was as though he was exerting all his will power to hold himself back every second they were together. Worse, it seemed like he was excusing himself all the time to run to the restroom and Lauren knew what he was doing in there. She could tell by the soft, frustrated sounds.

  They’re not sounds of pleasure, though, she thought, frowning. Instead, there was a note of pain in the low growls she heard him making when he touched himself. It was as though he was deliberately hurting himself somehow, as though the feel of his own hand on his shaft was painful. But why? Why would he do that? If it hurts, why do it at all? And why is it painful?

  Lauren wished desperately that Xairn would let her take care of him. That he would trust himself enough to let her touch him and make him come. To pleasure him as he had pleasured her. But that didn’t seem like a possibility right now—or in the future either. Apparently after his display of dominance the other night, when he’d confessed his desires, he preferred to keep his distance for fear of things getting out of hand.

  Is it really that hard for him to be close to me? she wondered, looking at his broad, bare back, bathed in shadows. Is he really fighting the impulse to…to take me every single minute we’re together? She wouldn’t let herself think the word “rape.” And she wished desperately that she had never said it to Xairn, either. It had only made him feel worse about what he wanted. A dark corner of her mind, one she kept hidden even from herself whispered, would it be so bad if he just gave in and did it?

  Lauren tried to push the thought out of her head. The idea that she might want Xairn to dominate her was disturbing on all kinds of levels. She’d been raised to be a strong, independent woman who bowed to no man. A woman who took charge of her own life, both in and out of the bedroom, and didn’t take crap off anyone, male or female.

  So then why had she felt the urge to kneel before him and call him “Master” that night when he touched her? Xairn had begged her to get up at once, but she’d seen the heat in his eyes when she did it. And hadn’t it touched off a spark inside her as well? Yes, she admitted to herself, for some reason it had.

  But what really bothered her was what had happened later. After Xairn had come back from taking care of himself and she’d confronted him about it…He pinned me to the bed, Lauren thought with a shiver that was half fear/half desire. He was so big and hot and hard on top of me. I could feel him—feel his cock pressing against me, wanting to enter me. Wanting to fuck me.

  And hadn’t she, just for a moment, wanted it too? Hadn’t the feel of his big body holding her down, making her helpless, turned her on?

  It shouldn’t though, Lauren argued with herself. That kind of thing never turned me on before. And it wasn’t like she hadn’t had experience with bondage and dominance play—she had. She’d had a boyfriend in college who was into BDSM. Or who wanted to be into it, anyway. Lauren had been willing to play along but the idea of bowing down to some man and calling him “Master” had never done anything for her. Even worse, when her boyfriend had tried to “discipline” her by putting her over his knee for a spanking, Lauren had burst out laughing. The whole situation had seemed so ridiculous, so utterly fabricated and unreal.

  But there was something undeniably real about it when it came to Xairn. The feeling that dominance wasn’t just something he wanted to do—it was actually part of his psychological make-up. Looking at him that night, with his huge, muscular frame and those gorgeous, forbidding eyes, Lauren had known it was something he had been born and bred for. Even if Xairn didn’t want to acknowledge it himself.

  If I could only get him to act on those desires, those impulses…no, what am I thinking? She sighed. That would be much too dangerous. Xairn’s afraid of what he might do if he let himself go. Wouldn’t it be smart for me to fear it too?

  But despite the promise of danger—or maybe because of it—she couldn’t stop wanting to experience more of his dominant side. Couldn’t help wishing to be pinned to the bed, helpless under his big body just once more…

  Lauren sighed. God, I’m a mess! Talk about sexual frustration…I should probably just give in and take care of myself too. But no matter how tense she got, she didn’t want to do that. It felt like surrender, somehow. Like an acknowledgement that Xairn was never going to touch her again and Lauren didn’t want to admit that, no matter how likely it seemed.

  I’ll just give him a little more time. Try not to crowd him and maybe he’ll come to me…

  The strident beeping of the alarm cut off her thoughts. Lauren sat up in bed and ran her
fingers through her hair with a sigh. She’d been moping around her condo, trying to get things right with Xairn for long enough. Today she was going to put her relationship on hold and get back to work.

  “Is everything all right?” Xairn sat up in bed, instantly alert and looking for threats though she would have sworn he was dead asleep just moments before.

  “Fine, I’m fine,” she soothed him, putting a hand on his arm. She tried not to feel hurt when he tensed at her touch. “I’m, uh, just getting up a little early for work. I’ve been lazy long enough—time to get back to business.”

  “I’ll come with you,” he said instantly, swinging his legs out of bed.

  “No.” Lauren shook her head. “I mean thanks but no thanks, Xairn. I just need…I think I need a little alone time. And working always clears my head.”

  His face was grave in the dim light from the high windows. “You’re certain about that?”

  “Yeah.” Lauren nodded. “I’m sure. And don’t worry—it’s perfectly safe. There are way too many security cameras on the Circle for anyone to try anything.”

  “It does seem like a fairly civilized area,” he admitted grudgingly. “But I still don’t like the idea of you going out alone in the dark at this hour.”

  Lauren controlled her irritation with difficulty. “I appreciate that, Xairn, but I was going out alone in the dark every morning for work for years before you and I met, okay?”

  “Fair enough,” he said quietly. “I’m sorry, Lauren. I shouldn’t discount your ability to take care of yourself.”

  “Thank you.” She took a deep breath. “I’m sorry too. You can come with me later but I just need a little me time right now, okay?”

  Xairn nodded silently and Lauren was relieved. She needed to go down to the Sweet Spot and at least take inventory. Some of the things she had in the shop, like cake flour, would still be good. But all the eggs and milk and butter she used in her cupcake recipes would be way out of date. She needed to clean out the fridge and make some orders. Then, once the new inventory arrived she could start baking again. She couldn’t accomplish everything in one day but she could at least get started. And the mindless work would give her an opportunity to really think. Besides, it would be easier to get things done if she didn’t have to worry about her huge alien boyfriend wandering around Saint Armand’s Circle in his new designer wardrobe.

 

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