The Krinar Chronicles_Krinar Covenant

by Chris Roxboro

  She made a rude noise with her lips and batted a hand toward him. “Ridiculous. These things blow over all the time.” She gave him a smile. “But thank you for worrying about me.”

  He frowned again, unsure how to make her believe him. Her phone began buzzing, and she reached down to her night table. “Excuse me, it’s Daddy.”

  She took the call, and Jerik watched her face as it went from polite contentment to flabbergasted to horror. She squeaked a thank you and turned off the phone. Her face went white.

  “The Board wants to speak with me,” she whispered. “In an hour. About you.”

  Jerik curled his fingers into fists. This was entirely his fault. The look of abject terror and dejection on her face was all on him. To think he’d set out a few days ago, intent on despoiling a beautiful woman for his pleasure—it had turned into this—he didn’t know what to call it. But he could fix it. His plan, admittedly somewhat self-serving, would help her. It had to. He knew the sub-program would be finished running now.

  He stood up and walked to her, grasping her elbows with both hands, and looked down into her watering deep brown eyes. “I’m sorry for everything, Medora,” he said. “But I can make it up to you.”

  He saw a flicker of hope.

  He dropped to one knee in front of her and pulled out the item he’d made just minutes ago in the other room.

  It was an odd, glimmering ring.

  He watched her face. Confusion gave birth to surprise. Consternation. Disbelief. This was not boding well. He sallied forth.

  “Ariella Medora Rothchild, daughter of Alina Smirnov Rothchild and Douglas J. Rothchild, will you do me the honor of accepting me, Jerik Jerononikalos Malopkovic Krinadopoulos, son of Jerononikala and Malopko of Lendarka Krinadopoulos Krina, as your husband on Earth and in Krina settlements and territories?”

  She looked from his face to the ring and back again. Thrice. Opened her mouth twice but closed it. Held her hand out to hold the ring in her palm.

  “What is this material?” She asked reverently.

  She didn’t reject him immediately. He let out a breath. “I admit it is unusual. I understand the Earth custom demands a ring of diamond and gold.” He refused to explain where it came from. “Do you accept?”

  She looked back up at him. Her mouth twisted. “I don’t understand. How is this the solution?”

  “Your Board of Directors is reacting to rumors of an illicit sexual relationship, a casual fling, with an Alien, no less, that could reflect poorly on your organization.”

  She nodded, eyes watering again. He stood up.

  “But if it were revealed that we were, in fact, engaged to be married, then it puts the relationship into a different light.”

  She cocked her head and frowned.

  She was being difficult. Anger began to simmer, but he tamped it down.

  “Imagine the headlines when you announce your engagement to me, Medora.” He touched her shoulder and waited until she looked into his eyes again. “Chicago’s Princess to Reform Alien Rake”,” he suggested. “Or perhaps, “Heiress Promises Life of Philanthropy with Alien Companion”.” He took both shoulders, feeling a shimmer of want mixed with earnest intent. “Krinar Covenants Fidelity to Earth Woman”.

  She pursed her mouth. “But you…”

  He couldn’t accept her doubt any longer. He lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her. Jerik couldn’t say with words what he was feeling. It was something like, I want, and I need, swirled together with I hope, and fascination, and endless questions about the future. It was not the heady passion of unsated lust, but a kiss that married concern with companionship. Basically, it was unlike any kiss he had ever shared with any other person in thousands of years. He released her lips and his breath and stepped back, unbalanced.

  She licked her lips and blinked several times. “I can’t think when you kiss me.”

  He didn’t respond but walked over to her bedroom windows and pulled the curtains to the side. “Look down there, Medora.”

  She padded over to the windows and gasped. Far below, news vans from several agencies were parked up and down the street.

  “They’re waiting to ask you questions about me,” he said. “What will you tell them?”

  A tear fell from her eye as she stared down through the glass.

  “Isn’t there any other solution?”

  Jerik gritted his teeth. “It doesn’t have to be a permanent engagement,” he growled. “If the thought is so repugnant to you, call it off in three months when the press has died down. Your position should be safe by then.”

  He left her room and stalked into the living area. He wanted to leave. But she would be assaulted by the press as soon as she walked out the door, and he knew she would go speak to the Board. Which left him bisected between escaping the strange feelings erupting inside him and a sense of obligation to the woman in the other room. He stared morosely out the window for long minutes.

  “Jerik?”

  He turned. She wore a yellow dress and a bawdy robin’s egg blue necklace and bracelet. She wore the matching color of velvety high heels. With shoes together and her hands clutching a blue bag she faced him.

  “Will you do you your little magic thing with the portal and take me directly to the boardroom?” She took a dainty step forward. “And will you stay with me while I announce our engagement?”

  Jerik wanted to make her suffer for these last minutes of his agony, but the beseeching look she gave him prevented him from doing so. He nodded. Approached her and took her arm, looking down at her upturned face.

  “What is the shape of this neckline called?” He asked about the dress. Traced the edge of it, allowing his finger to glance over her pearlescent skin.

  “Um. It’s a, a, sweetheart neckline,” she whispered.

  “Let’s go,” he said, and fingered the nano-device. “Hold your breath.”

  “I have been for days, to be honest.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  What in the living hell just happened? Medora had about one second to come up with a plausible story to feed the Board that would satisfy them and wouldn’t send her to the psych ward of Daddy’s favorite hospital.

  It’s not that marriage to Jerik sounded awful. She could think of a thousand worse things, most of them involving cancer. Or vegetables. But from what she knew of Jerik, he could never stomach an actual marriage. Jerik of the ungodly long name? Owner of several sex clubs? Saddled with one woman for another six thousand years? (Not that she could live that long, but she’d heard rumors of women called charls who were practically granted immortality when they mated with Krinar). He’d said the words she couldn’t quite imagine any man saying to her. But did he actually mean them? Covenanting fidelity? She felt his arm securely around her waist. If she thought for a second that he actually meant it…that would be a different story altogether.

  He gripped her tighter, and they appeared in the boardroom of the Humans with Heart building on Michigan.

  She saw the men and women of the board sitting at the conference table already. They all jumped a bit at her unorthodox arrival. Oops. They wore grim expressions. She waited for them to speak. They were the ones calling this stupid meeting.

  “Uh, thank you for your, ahem, timely arrival,” Barbara Belvedere said. Her eyes flicked to Jerik. “Jerik of the X-Clubs, I presume?”

  He nodded. Medora squeezed his hand.

  Barbara continued. “We called this meeting because we wanted to give you the opportunity to defend yourself from the tawdry allegations brought against you by several online media outlets.” Barbara leveled her gaze at the both of them. “However, your appearance today seems to verify them.”

  “Due respect Ms. Belvedere, but the press is lacking a vital piece of information,” Medora said. She stepped forward and pulled Jerik closer to her. “Mr. Jerik asked me to marry him, and I said yes.” Medora brought her smile to bear and blinked tears away. “He’s my fiancé. I’ll not apologize for my relationship wi
th him.”

  Barbara sat back, unable to hide her astonishment. “But, for so many years,” she glanced between Medora and Jerik, and thankfully didn’t finish her thought. Medora knew exactly what she was going to say.

  “Love often ignores the arbitrary rules we set for ourselves, does it not?” Medora asked sweetly and gazed up at Jerik’s handsome face, letting her girlhood fancies flutter out of her heart like unfettered butterflies. His amber eyes devoured her face, and her heart nearly stopped.

  She turned to look at the men and women around the table, waiting for more comments. Jerik spoke, instead.

  “It may interest you to know that I am in talks with a business associate to sell the X-Clubs,” he said. “If that has any bearing on your decision to allow Medora to remain as the Executive Director.”

  Medora saw softening on several board members’ faces and felt gratitude wash over her. Yet she remained still, waiting to hear their reaction.

  Ms. Belvedere looked around at the board. “Well, we will dismiss you and Jerik. It seems that we were misinformed and mislead by the news organizations,” she chuckled nervously. “You would think with our collective experience we would know better. We will reconvene and let you know if any changes are to be made. Thank you for your time.” She stood and walked around the table, holding her hand out to Jerik. “Welcome to the family.”

  Jerik bowed over her hand and gave a slight smile. Some of the others bobbed their heads at him, and then he took Medora’s elbow and they popped out of the boardroom and into another living room. His living room.

  “Oh!” Medora gasped. “I haven’t been here since that night,” she murmured. Her knees were weak, and she sat on the couch, in the exact spot where she’d sat before. She put her hand to her heart. “I’m sorry, but I was so nervous. I can’t stand right now.”

  “A rarity, unless you are in my presence?” He goaded her.

  Her mouth gaped, but then she laughed. “You’re right! I can’t seem to stand up straight around you.” She smiled, and noticed his expression seemed relaxed. “You’re remarkably calm for someone who got engaged and sold his business in the last hour.”

  “Well, not precisely. I made a call, though.” His laugh was without humor. “It was the least I could do for you.” He stepped closer and looked down at her. “Almost from the first moment, I’ve done nothing except knock you down or trip you up. I suppose I feel beholden to you.”

  Medora’s heart sank. It was as she feared and suspected. He felt some strange sense of duty to her. But why should this bother her? Their sham of an engagement was just to keep her position at Humans with Heart, and perhaps to deflect attention from his sex clubs. She was uncertain if bad press affected his clubs or not. Seemed like any publicity would be good for his establishments. Er, was he really selling them? Just for her?

  “We need to talk more about this, Jerik.”

  He nodded. “I agree.” He sat in a chair across from her, much to her relief. Being in his awe-inspiring presence shook her up.

  “We’re not,” she started and stopped. Waved her hands between them. “You and I aren’t in…” She laid her head back on the couch. She wasn’t exactly in love with the Krinar. And she knew he wasn’t in love with her. While wealthy people made marriages of convenience all the time, the arrangement wasn’t for her.

  “How real is this?” She cut to the chase.

  His amber eyes bored into her own. “How real do you want it to be?”

  Medora felt her pulse quicken. She looked away and spied a newspaper on the side table. She picked it up and turned it over, seeing a photo of him on the Sun-Times. He had that gleam in his eye, the one that seemed to undress her and kiss her at the same time, and she shivered. Then she recalled their conversation at the Winter Ball. What she’d told him.

  Realization smacked her in the face. She gasped and looked up at him.

  “Oh. My. God.”

  He lifted a brow.

  “You’re doing this just so you can have sex with me?” Her voice rose and she stood on unsteady feet. “You’re such a pig!” She spat out her insult, pressed the ring into his hand and stormed to the door of his apartment. “I can’t be in the same room with you right now. Call me a driver, Jerik.”

  His mouth opened, closed. Then a strange smile crossed his face. “Ah, I get the joke now. The hambulance.”

  “What the hell are you talking about? Just get me the damn car.”

  “Of course, my dear. The car will be waiting for you when you get to the lobby. We’ll talk again soon.”

  Medora shook her head. She could not understand that alien. Was it all of them who were so obtuse, or just him? Right now, she didn’t care. Her heart was splitting into a thousand pieces, and she had to be at the hospital in three hours. The calm and predictable presence of death seemed much more welcoming than anything else she had done today. What was wrong with her life?

  Chapter Fourteen

  Jerik poured himself a glass of fine Krina wine. It was more potent than anything found on earth, and with Krina’s lifespan ticking down, infinitely more valuable. He sipped it, staring out at the buildings with their steel and glass and shining lights. He loved nighttime in Chi-town.

  He flared his nostrils, searching out the stray molecules of Medora’s perfume that floated in the air of his apartment. It didn’t matter where he was or where he went, she was with him always. Ines called him this afternoon, asking if he was all right. All the club managers had noticed his conspicuous absences.

  He had stopped counting the days since he last fucked. Oh, the desire was still there, burning as ever. But he knew that if he sought out some other human who was not Medora, there would be no joy in the union. This astounded him, as well as infuriated him. Joy had never been a prerequisite before. How dare she enter his life and change him in this fundamental way? He’d resorted to satisfying himself in the shower when the need became too great. Even that was becoming pointless. He’d almost rather burn with desire for her then satiate his lust with a meager substitute.

  But her price was far too high.

  And why had he proposed marriage when he knew it?

  Because of those children. And because of her eyes when she asked him for a favor. Those damned brown eyes. And her ‘sweetheart’ neckline, and beguiling smile and dancer’s legs, and bewitching accent and cluttered bedroom.

  Oh, that bedroom.

  He’d clutter her bedroom properly.

  Throw the damn pillows all over the floor. Rip the sheets off the bed with her wrapped in them. Make passionate love to every inch of her, cause her to squirt all over him and those sheets. Sweep the cosmetics and jewelry off the bathroom counter and fuck her while they looked into each other’s eyes in the mirror. She would scream his name and he would bite her neck, and their orgasms would shatter every glass in the apartment.

  He broke the stem of his wineglass and cursed as his blood spilled and mingled with the wine. He cleaned up the mess and forced himself to shut down questions about the flavor of her blood.

  Hadn’t he done the proposal right? He’d looked at some video clips, studied some texts. They were an attractive couple, and they each had something the other wanted. A marriage solved the propriety problem the Board seemed to have. And she belonged to him.

  He rubbed his eyes. No, that’s not what he meant.

  Damn, he needed a release. Although he was beginning to consider it wasn’t what he truly craved after all. Was it just her blood he craved? Or her company? Her laugh and smile? Her insight?

  Answers were not forthcoming.

  She was mad about the sex, but ultimately, even a fake engagement would be better for her position than nothing at all. She would bend in that, he was confident.

  He had been celibate for days now. He could manage it a while longer and follow through with the engagement, at least until the press grew tired of seeing them together. Then she would call it off. He clenched his fists. It left him out in the cold. Unless he c
ould persuade her to change her mind. He let a lazy smile slip.

  After placing the quick call to Sharkur about selling the clubs, he’d wondered if he was making a huge mistake. But he felt nothing but a strange lightness.

  Shrugging it off, he doublechecked he still had the ring. The press didn’t know about the engagement yet and would be waiting to harass her as soon as they found her. He wondered if she returned to her place or went to the hospital instead.

  As infuriating as she was at times, he couldn’t leave her to the wolves. A pity she didn’t take the ring with her. He could have tracked her. Perhaps his attraction to her was as simple as that. She gave him the intellectual stimulation he’d been missing for the last five thousand years.

  He decided to try the hospital first, grabbing his winter coat. He would call his network of human informants. He’d track her down within the hour.

  Chapter Fifteen

  JaNay Johnson lay in bed, eyes closed, tubes running from both nose and mouth. Her parents and brothers and sisters huddled together on one side of the bed. Medora sat unobtrusively in the corner while Country and Western singer Shena Mandrake strummed her guitar and sang her number one hit. “Make it Rain on Me Tonight”. JaNay’s parents let the tears fall freely while Shena’s sultry voice crooned her hit for the unplugged version.

  Medora closed her eyes and let the music wash over her. The lyrics penetrated her heart; she had to work to stifle sobs. While her job was heartbreaking, she could usually keep it together until she got home. Not tonight.

  My thundering heart

  Pounds in my ears and my chest

  But you always did know best

  How to do your part

  How to light up my life

  How to make me your wife

  But tonight the winds blew

  For the first time I knew

  What it could be like

  That first lightning strike

  Make it rain on me tonight

  Pound on the roof of tin