StarlightComplete

by Astrid Cooper

  “It’s rare for any human to identify a felinus voice—when they want to remain anonymous you can’t distinguish them.”

  “And why some of the performers were screened? They were felinus?”

  “Naturally. Starwatch is my special project.”

  “Yours?” Sam asked.

  “I’m one of the directors.”

  “But—”

  “Sammi you talk too much.”

  “I’ve so many questions.”

  “And you want them all answered now? You must learn patience.”

  “Okay. One last question.”

  “Very well, just one.”

  “Starwatch hosted the opera from Broome and beamed it around the seven systems. Now I know it was all your doing. After the show, you called in the singers for an on-line chat with members of the audience. I was one of them. Was that a set-up, too?”

  “No. Fate. Karma. Kismet. Destiny.” He winked.

  “I don’t believe you. Because I think…I actually don’t know what to think.”

  “Good, because I’m through with talking and I’m through with thinking.” He nudged her over onto her back and covered her body with his, planting kisses from her head to her heels.

  Later, the chime outside the alcove tinkled, indicating that someone outside wished to enter.

  The laser-curtain parted and Harimal stepped inside.

  With a gasp of alarm, Sam sat upright, dragging the gown to her body. John reclined, naked against the cushions. He raised a brow at his brother.

  Harimal inclined his head.

  Sam looked from one man to the other, noticing the similarities, the subtle—and not so subtle—differences. Harimal was dressed in a vibrant blue kaftan, the color matching his eyes.

  With one fluid movement he sat down on the cushions, folding his long legs beneath himself. He poured a glass of shovan and sipped it, his eyes sparkling over the rim of his glass as he studied Sam and John.

  “You will introduce me sometime this century, Kuno?” His voice was a purr.

  John sniffed. “Samantha needs no introduction.”

  “I prefer the formalities.” Harimal inclined his head, his long hair sliding over the silk of his gown. “Kuno has told me so much about you…and so little…” He reached out his left hand palm up.

  “The felinus greeting, Sam. Palm to palm.”

  “I’m sorry. Forgive my ignorance.” She touched her palm to Hari’s. His warmth and strength flowed into her as his gaze held her captive. His eyes probed, his felinus senses delved. His was a testing on all levels and she stood her ground when her every instinct was to run.

  He smiled. “It’s about time, Kuno. Now maybe you’ll give us some peace. Your temper has been terrible for months. Welcome, Samantha. Or should I call you Tosca? It’s good to meet you—finally.” He bent forward and kissed her palm, then licked. He bit the sensitive flesh on the inside of her wrist.

  “Harimal!” John’s voice was cold.

  Laughing, Hari slid his palm away, a sultry caress.

  “You didn’t exaggerate, brother-mine.”

  Samantha glanced at John. His face was inscrutable, but his eyes burned. The two brothers were locked in a silent measuring that excluded her. Were they talking mind to mind? She waited many minutes, trying not to fidget.

  “She is no longer Tosca,” John said aloud.

  Harimal inclined his head—he had done it so often, Sam now realized it was a felinus gesture. And as with all felinus traits it probably had a myriad of implications.

  “Your music was wonderful,” Sam said.

  Harimal smiled. “Thank you. You should hear John sing—now that is what I call wonderful.”

  She turned to John. “You can sing?”

  “He seems to think so.”

  “Will you sing for me?”

  “Mm. Maybe in the shower.” He smiled and Sam remembered their conversation that first night. She lowered her gaze.

  “Kuno, tual-nol!”

  While Hari’s voice was soft, Sam caught the subtle nuance. Immediately John was sitting upright. The atmosphere in the alcove was thick with tension and cat scents. That was a surprise. She thought scents were exuded only during loving. This perfume around her tasted hard, cold, like metal.

  “I’m sorry, Sammi, we’ve got business to discuss.”

  “You want me to leave?”

  “No, honey-cat.” John gently stroked her neck with his thumb, a gesture to soothe. “Just Hari and I have to talk. Felinus to Felinus. Forgive us our secrets.”

  Samantha shrugged herself into her robe and turned away as Hari and John-Kuno sat facing each other, hands on their knees, heads bowed.

  They spoke at first so she could hear, then gradually the words became disjointed, less and less before silence descended, when they spoke telepathically.

  What were they discussing? She tugged at the tassel on the cushion, half shredding it.

  Harimal glanced at Samantha. She’s exceptional. You’ve mated with her?

  First level. I must be cautious. Reasons. Private.

  Ah. Harimal inclined his head. I have to return home soon. Uncle has requested it.

  John snorted. Since when does he request? He’s ordered you. Why? Is it safe?

  What do you think?

  And father?

  As always. Harimal paused. More felinus have disappeared. Three just last week, on the Vega route. And there’s rumors…slavers. Can’t find out anything and we’ve cast our net as far as we can. One of the dream-weavers has gone, too.

  John swore. A felinus dream-weaver… Who?

  Feransyn. Someone’s taking us apart, Kuno. Collecting. They’re leaving the half-bloods.

  Killing them, don’t you mean? Don’t spare me, Harimal. I’m not a kitten. He paused. Who’s doing this, any idea?

  Maybe Starwatch’s enemies.

  That list is long!

  Harimal ran a hand through his hair. I’d suspect my Uncle was trying to clear the bloodline, except his son has gone, too.

  Saveth?

  Harimal nodded. I know there’s no love lost between you, but he is a prince of the blood. Uncle is tearing the space-lanes apart. But there’s nothing, as if they’ve left this universe entirely.

  You suspected Uncle?

  His vision doesn’t extend beyond our world. He wants the blood clarified, but I doubt even he would be in league with our enemies.

  I haven’t heard about any of this.

  Kuno, you’ve had other things on your mind. But I need you now. You’re one of the strongest seekers I know. You’ve not felt anything, you’re certain?

  I can’t be sure of anything at the moment.

  Harimal laughed and Sam turned at the sound. It stroked her from inside out and she groaned and pressed her face into the pillow, biting back the scream.

  I can see that brother-mine. She’s turned you inside out. So you can’t think straight…but there’s nothing new in that. Harimal laughed again, this time mind to mind. I see your scent on her and the bite. She is the one?

  You have to ask?

  No, but didn’t you tell me awhile ago that no one woman would ever be enough for you, that there was no soul-mate for you? Feegle that! I indulged your belief, because you’re such a kitten sometimes, Kuno! You just have to go out and find her.

  Right—go out and find your fe’ha tu! Listen to who’s talking.

  Harimal’s mind flinched and John was immediately sorry. He stroked his brother’s wrist.

  Forgive. I’m just a dumb human. I didn’t realize what I was saying. That was before pussy-Sam.

  Exactly so. Before you met your soul-mate.

  You can be so bloody smug sometimes, Harimal.

  Only when I’m right.

  Especially when you’re right. John sent love and Hari reciprocated—a blue and silver glow washing between them, through them. She called me a sexy, naughty little beast.

  Apt. Now, concentrate!

  They drew apart, minds
on business.

  Hari—if there is a collector, then we have to be vigilant. No one is safe. How to find him?

  I’ve posted a reward. Every bounty hunter in the cosmos is out looking for clues. Can you monitor for me? Both Father and Uncle have called me home. I must obey.

  Why must you?

  Kuno! Then, gentler: John…I have been called.

  John put up his hands in mock surrender. Damn them. Calling a felinus isn’t done lightly. Uncle’s up to something.

  That’s his nature. Devious and meddling. And with father’s summons added to it…I only hope it’s not a repeat of last time when they had my mate chosen for me.

  Though Hari’s words were flippant, John caught the deep anguish. Father and son rarely spoke and for the father and the uncle to call Hari home—it must be important.

  I’ll cover for you here.

  Sorry to ask at such a time, with your Samantha so new to you. Ah! Hari smiled. A virgin…now I understand.

  What?

  I felt her when I was playing the song…her response. Purrrrrrrr.

  The two brothers laughed. John’s thumb again stroked Sam’s neck, soothing her, quieting her. She really was nervous…he’d have to deal with that. Love her so much he’d melt her bones.

  I’ve given orders, Kuno. No shifter may travel the spaceways, unless unavoidable. If they must attend to home or kin, then until they’re safe at home, they’re to be guarded by two draconis.

  Dragons never work in pairs.

  They are for me, a special favor. The guarding goes for you, too, Kuno.

  But—

  Harimal raised his mind block against John’s protests. Not open to debate, Kuno. Everyone knows that your blood is stronger than some of the pure. Besides, it is Harimal-san-Duran who orders.

  Damn Harimal, the prince!

  Most likely I will be.

  But shifters know how to look after themselves, we have the assassin’s touch.

  Yes, but still we’re being taken. It’s frightening how easily it’s happening.

  Harimal, san-Duran?

  John felt Hari’s shocked response. Rarely did either brother revert to protocol. But when a brother was a prince and something concerned the felinus, etiquette must be followed.

  Kuno. Speak.

  Tonight, I’ve shown Samantha the first killing touch.

  You intend to show her the others?

  I wish to.

  It is permitted. Harimal paused. I only hope she doesn’t have cause to use them.

  I have to tell you that Sam recognized you as one of the Starwatch singers.

  Did she? Now that’s interesting. He glanced over at Sam and smiled. You’ve neglected your kitten too long. She’s growing restless.

  She’s always restless.

  You know what to do. Melt her bones.

  Already thought of that.

  The connection severed.

  John turned to Sam finding her lying on the cushions. He leaned forward, smiled the gentlest of smiles.

  Watching, Hari’s gut tightened; his heart ached for John, for Sam—for their happiness. It was a poignant reminder of his own loneliness. It bit deeper than any felinus knew—Kuno included.

  John traced a finger over Sam’s lips, across her closed eyelids.

  “I’m not asleep,” she mumbled. “When are we going holo-dancing?”

  Harimal chuckled as John reared back, shocked to the core. It was a rare sight and Hari took great pleasure in it. Sam stood up.

  “Aren’t you tired?” John asked.

  “Nope. Should I be?” She lifted a brow.

  “I just thought…”

  “I can imagine. I’ve got some mileage still left in me John-Kuno.”

  “It’s the shovan,” he said. “I knew I should have rationed you.”

  She smiled, studying him through her lashes. “No it isn’t. I just want to dance.”

  “Very well. Excuse us, Hari.”

  The felinus inclined his head.

  Leaving their cubicle, hand in hand, they walked across the room to the screened holo-floor.

  The shimmer curtains opened and closed behind them.

  Sam stared. The room stretched beyond her vision—coruscating lights and rainbows swirling in the distance. It was an illusion of size, but she hadn’t expected it to be empty. “Why, we’re alone, I thought there’d be others.”

  John rested his palm against her cheek. “This is our own holo illusion. There’ll be many using the holo, but they’re screened. No one ever enters another’s private dance. Even Harimal wouldn’t do that.”

  “I like your brother.”

  “All women do.”

  She stroked his wrist, with her thumb as he had touched her neck. “No, not like that. I like him. He reminds me of you,”

  John snorted. “You want to talk or dance?”

  “Both,” she said. “I read somewhere that dancing is the oldest conversation in the universe…a world of meaning in one step.”

  John frowned. “Where did you hear that?”

  She winked at him and twirled, her robe ballooning around her. “I just made it up.”

  Sam turned full circle in the holo-room. Its dimensions wavered, indistinct. Walls moved like curtains flowing in the breeze, colors merging, every rainbow from every world. Above her was a golden rayed sun and beneath her feet a mauve surface that was soft, as if made of clouds.

  “Is it always like this?”

  “To begin with,” John said, taking her in his arms. “Imagine a place where you most want to be.”

  “You choose,” she said.

  He smiled and half closed his eyes, resting his face against her neck.

  Around her the room altered. It became the sea, pure green, threaded with white. In the water, stars and worlds coalesced and in their midst was a reef teeming with fish, with mer-folk—shifters from Aqus, the water world.

  Sam heard the distant sound of singing: whales and dolphins, and then John’s voice above the song of the cetaceans. He sang Bizet, from The Pearl Fishers. His voice, a rich baritone vibrated through her.

  A memory stirred from the Starwatch charity concert. Now she knew that it had been Hari and John who had sung the ‘Temple Duet’—it had opened the show and closed it. The irony then, as now, made her smile: singing The Pearl Farmers duet from Broome—one of the greatest pearl gardens in the seven systems. Doubtless it had been at John’s instigation. Cats liked to play games and tease.

  Sam listened mesmerized. John-Kuno’s voice was to die for, a mixture of human and felinus; unique.

  Where Harimal’s voice was reserved, cultured, John was raw, earthy, sensual. The sound lapped at her senses.

  Unashamed, she peeled off her gown and stepped away from it as it settled at her feet.

  Her action silenced John’s song immediately. He shrugged off his own kaftan.

  She lifted her thigh and he cupped her bottom, bringing her close to him. He took her head between his hands, threading his fingers through her hair.

  Slowly, the music returned: dolphins and whales and the strains of the violin and piano and the felinus lyre.

  John bent down and kissed her, his lips slanting over hers, a touch feather soft. She parted her mouth and his kiss intensified.

  Dance the oral with me, Kuno!

  In response, his tongue delved, as naked flesh met naked flesh, sleek against the other, sliding and taunting in the sinuous dance.

  She broke away from him, laughing, and stalked him, round and round like a cat circling her prey. John followed her every action, moving as she moved. She trailed her hand over his shoulder, down his left buttock and leapt away as he went to capture her. She returned and ran a finger over his shoulder, down the length of his arm.

  Standing behind him, she pressed herself against his back and reached around to capture his erection.

  “Felinus, feena…no coincidence that the words sound similar?” Sam asked.

  John groaned. Her thumb skimmed u
p to his navel and crept inside, pressing. He cried out.

  Linked mind to mind she knew it was a felinus love-spot; one of his particular favorites. She pressed harder and he climaxed. The holo-room erupted in red, like a supernova as John’s cries filled the air.

  Smiling, Sam came to stand before him, swaying, her own rhythm established. She spread her arms and legs wide and leaned back.

  John’s hands splayed over her abdomen, and he lifted her to him. The warm air eddied around them, raising them off the floor, lightly spinning them in the null grav. She entwined her legs around John, crossing her ankles at the small of his back.

  Sam shivered. It felt as if a thousand fingers stroked her. But who…?

  “Me,” John said. “The holo-image augments every part of me, every part of you. Touch me. Love me.” He groaned as she sent out her own fingers, a thousand fold to stroke his body.

  “I want you inside me, John…every centimeter.”

  He shifted his hips and brought her down over him, his sex embedded to the hilt. The action lifted them both upwards and they soared in the illusion-water of the holo room.

  They moved against one another, floating, exploring every contour of mind and body.

  John angled for the slightest of probes, teasing until she moaned.

  Then he angled again, finding the upper center of pleasure.

  Around and around they spun, joined in mind and body, moving back and forth until the first ripples of climax halted them. They bore down, taking it. Convergence. Sharing it, the holo intensifying it.

  Sam shattered and John followed.

  Then behind her, she felt warmth, hardness, Harimal’s scent.

  “Welcome to you, sister.”

  She turned her head and Harimal smiled. His hands cupped her shoulders, smoothing down her arms, pushing her into John, pushing himself into her, so that she was sandwiched between the two men.

  Harimal licked her nape and nibbled her ear. John’s reached out past her, to clasp Hari’s forearms.

  “Welcome brother-mine.”

  They danced, the three of them, around and around. Harimal stroked Sam’s back, her hips, the legs encircling John’s waist. Then the brothers moved so that they lay flat, floating, buoyed by the holo-gravity. Samantha between them was stroked, held, fondled.