The Priestess and the Thief

by Evangeline Anderson

  “Very good,” Elli remarked. “Now, I’ve noticed that a lot of you are sawing and yanking on the reins when you’re trying to direct a zorel you’re training or riding.”

  “But how else are we s’posed to get the bloody greats beasts to go where we want them to?” Yanus asked in honest bewilderment.

  “Just show them and tell them where you want them to go,” Elli told him. “Then offer a reward if they do as you ask. Zorels are highly intelligent beasts. They can learn direction like ‘go left’ and ‘go right’. Or you can point and say, ‘go to that post,’ or ‘stop here.’ You need barely touch the reins at all with a well-trained zorel who knows what you want and is willing to work with you. Watch…”

  She was using the Duke’s mount, Wind Chaser, as an example because he really was an extremely pliant zorel when he wasn’t being bitten by bore worms. Grabbing his long, feathered mane, she swung herself up onto his broad back and took the reins lightly in one hand.

  “Windy, dear,” she said, stroking his strong neck caressingly. “Do you see the water trough over there?” As she spoke, she pointed to the trough, which stood just outside the stables.

  Wind Chaser looked in the direction she was pointing and snorted once—a definite affirmative.

  “I want you to go to the trough and stop,” Elli told him. “And there’s a nice fresh krisper for you if you do it nicely.”

  Wind Chaser snorted eagerly and trotted quickly to the trough, stopping just in front of it. He bent his head for a sip from the trough and then turned his long, flexible neck back towards Elli for the promised reward.

  “Good boy!” she exclaimed, giving him the krisper she had in her pocket. “Aren’t you just the best good boy?” She stroked him lovingly as he chewed and Wind Chaser fairly purred under her caresses.

  “That’s most impressive, Miss,” Yanus, the head groom said, frowning. “But it’s clear to see you’ve got a gift with zorels—how can the rest of us make them do what we want when we don’t have the same gift as yourself?”

  “You don’t have to have a gift to get along with zorels,” Elli told him. “None of my brothers or my father have the same, er, connection with them that I do, but they train zorels every day.”

  “Yes, but I’m bettin’ as that they was raised with the creatures,” another groom protested. “Beggin’ your pardon, Miss, but none of us had anything to do with them before the Crown Prince decided he wanted to move the castle to Pok and took us all with him—may he live forever,” he added quickly.

  “You don’t have to be raised with zorels to work with them,” Elli said firmly. “You just need to be a kind and patient person. Yanus, come here. I want you to take my place on Windy’s back and ask him to return to his stall.”

  “Well…I don’t know if he’ll listen to me as he does to you, Miss,” the head groom said doubtfully. “But I’ll try.”

  He walked over as Elli was swinging down from the large gray zorel’s broad back. As she was handing the reins to the head groom, she couldn’t help noticing that he had some strange purple blotches on the backs of his hands and forearms. The color stood out against the pale blue of his regular skin tone and the flesh there almost looked melted and disfigured.

  “Oh, Yanus—what happened to your hands?” Elli exclaimed, filled with concern.

  The head groom flushed, his pale blue face going nearly purple with embarrassment.

  “If you please, Miss, it’s nothing—just an incident with the water trough, that’s all.”

  “But the water trough is filled with water—not acid!” Elli exclaimed. “What in the world happened?”

  “He got splashed, Miss,” another groom explained. “Our skin don’t react well to the water here, is all. That’s why we’re all of us so careful of the trough and try to keep out of the way when the sky spits on us.”

  “You mean when it rains?” Elli asked.

  “Yes, Miss.” Yanus nodded. “Please don’t worry,” he added, clearly seeing the concern on Elli’s face. “It doesn’t hurt anymore and it ‘ent like I’m one of the nobles and have to be careful of my complexion.” He laughed roughly. “A groom don’t have to be pretty, you know. It ‘ent like the Crown Prince is going to choose me as his Bride for the Night anytime soon.”

  This brought a collective roar of laughter from the other Tenebrian grooms which seemed to ease the tension. But it made Elli realize exactly why they hated normal water and could only use the milky blue stuff that had been treated with chemicals from their home planet.

  Regular water was disfiguring to them. No wonder all the nobles, who were so vain of their complexions, ran if it started to rain!

  I must tell Roke, she thought as she went on with the lesson. The big warrior was back at the palace at the moment, though he usually stayed and took lessons with the grooms. He had never worked with zorels before but he was proving to be a natural—he had a deft touch and the zorels seemed to trust him and love his deep, rumbling voice almost as much as she did herself.

  But by the time she got back to the palace, it was almost Supper time and Elli’s head was filled with thoughts of the Mirroring they might have to do that night.

  Supper or Bathing Time was also a part of their daily routine. One that Elli secretly looked forward to—though she would scarcely admit it, even to herself. Every evening it seemed that she and Roke were forced to push their personal limits, going further and further down an extremely erotic road, doing things that Elli would never have dreamed of doing on her own.

  Often these erotic interludes left her aching for release but Roke was always eager to “heal” her later in their room. The big warrior seemed to love lapping her nipples and pussy and for her part, Elli loved being “healed.” She didn’t even try to protest any more. The minute they got back to their room, Roke had her on the bed with her legs across his broad shoulders as he buried his face between her thighs and lapped until she came for him—often more than once.

  Elli welcomed him in. The feeling of his hot tongue caressing her inner folds was addictive. And though she still felt guilty for breaking her vows, she told herself everything she did was necessary to her quest. After all, they had to Mirror the Crown Prince—otherwise they would get kicked out of the Court. And since the Mirroring caused such a deep ache in her most sensitive areas, she had to allow Roke to heal her as well.

  To assuage her constant, underlying guilt, she promised herself that the moment she got back to the Mother Ship, she would take a sip from the cup of Mortem Amore and kill all her wrong desires forever. She wouldn’t even wait for the Shriving ceremony first—she knew where the cup was kept so there was nothing to stop her. Then she would beg forgiveness, which she hoped the Goddess would grant her, since she would be saving the life of the old Priestess Superior.

  After that, she would live the life of a devout and chaste priestess ever after and never even think of what she and Roke had to do together in order to get the piece of Healing Lattice in the first place.

  But what about Roke? whispered a sad little voice in her head. You’ll never see him again. Is that what you want?

  It doesn’t matter what I want, Elli told herself firmly. What matters is healing the old Priestess Superior and doing the right thing. I must purge myself of my desires and without desire, why would he want to be with me?

  She knew the big warrior enjoyed their physical relationship as much as she did—he was certainly eager to “heal” her all the time. Though he was careful not to push things too far—doubtless because he had no wish to bond with her, as he had stated before.

  Even if I did want to stay with him, I couldn’t, Elli reminded herself. He’s half Havoc and they don’t bond. He had no interest in tying his life to mine—or to any female’s for that matter. After this is all over, he’ll fly off and have more adventures and probably forget all about me.

  The thought made her sad, so she pushed it away when it occurred and focused on living in the moment. Right now her task was cl
ear—train Demon to carry the Crown Prince without bucking him off or burning him, and get a piece of the Healing Lattice in return. That was what she needed to center all her thoughts and attention on, for she was determined to succeed.

  And so the days slipped by and she didn’t even notice she was falling in love…

  Thirty-Five

  “How are things going with Demon’s training?” Roke asked as they got ready for Supper one night about a week after they’d been introduced to the Court. He had missed that day’s training session because the Duke had invited him on a hunting party.

  Roke would have rather stayed and watched Elliliah work—it was fascinating to see how the zorels responded to her. But it had been made clear to him that to refuse the hunting invitation would be discourteous and offensive and so he had reluctantly gone along, riding a sleek, white zorel doe named Sun Bright. But the hunt had been uneventful and he was eager to know how the training session with Demon and the Crown Prince had gone.

  “Well…” Ellilah sighed and stopped brushing her hair for a moment as she looked at him in the mirror mounted to the fresher wall. “It could be better. Demon just doesn’t like His Majesty at all.”

  Roke snorted.

  “Big surprise there. Don’t they say zorels are a good judge of character?”

  “They’re an excellent judge of character,” Ellilah said, nodding firmly. “But whether Demon likes the Crown Prince or not, I’ve got to get him to accept His Majesty as his rider.” She shook her head. “It doesn’t help that the Crown Prince doesn’t really like Demon either—or any zorel for that matter.”

  “What? But I had the impression one of the main reasons he moved the Court to Pok was so they could have their own stable full of pure-blooded zorels,” Roke protested. “That seems to be the consensus around the Court, anyway.”

  “Oh, I have no doubt he did,” Ellilah said seriously. “But he did it for appearances—not because he really liked zorels. He’s actually terribly afraid of them, though he tries not to show it, especially if any of the nobles are around.”

  “Well, I don’t blame him for being frightened of Demon,” Roke remarked. “It always sends a shiver down my spine when I see you cuddled up with that great beast. He could bite off your head as easily as you take a bite out of a krisper, you know.”

  In fact, Ellilah’s work with the monstrous zorel had caused him several sleepless nights. Only the fact that she communicated with them so easily and naturally and the fact that Demon was so obviously completely smitten with the curvy little priestess gave him any relief from his anxiety for her.

  Demon isn’t the only one who’s smitten, whispered a sarcastic little voice in his head. Be careful, Roke—you’re getting a lot closer than you should to falling in love with her and you know it.

  “You don’t need to worry about me,” Ellilah told him, arching an eyebrow at him in the mirror. “Demon would run off a cliff before he’d hurt me—I’m his person.”

  “His person?” Roke frowned.

  “The one person he loves,” Ellilah clarified. “My father always used to say there were two types of zorels—the kind who would get along with just about any rider and the kind who loved only one person. Demon is the second kind and I’ve become his person.” She sighed. “Which is kind of a problem, since it would be much better if he had chosen the Crown Prince instead.”

  “Who could choose that frog-faced bastard over sweet, curvy you, little priestess?” Roke growled, coming up behind her and putting his hands on her full hips.

  He saw Ellilah’s pretty face flush in the mirror and grinned at her in the silvery surface as he leaned down to kiss the top of her head.

  “Roke!” she protested but he noticed she didn’t try to move away. “It’s a real problem,” she pointed out. “I’ve given up on trying to get Demon to transfer his affections. I can barely get him to tolerate the Crown Prince—even when every one of His Majesty’s pockets are stuffed with krispers and sweet biscuits—let alone love him.”

  “Well, then what can you do?” Roke asked, frowning. “It sounds like a hopeless cause.”

  “It wouldn’t be if the Crown Prince truly loved Demon and wanted his love and affection in return,” Ellilah said. “But he doesn’t. He only wants to look grand and brave riding on him once or twice a year. If I can just get Demon to allow that, we should be all right.”

  “When do you think you’ll get Demon accustomed to the Prince?” Roke asked, frowning.

  Part of him wanted to hurry their mission along—he was, after all, getting dangerously close to a commitment he didn’t want to make with the little priestess. But part of him never wanted their time together to end—which made him wish that Demon might never accept the Tenebrian monarch as his rider.

  “Well, I got him to allow the Crown Prince to mount up and ride around the training ring today,” Ellilah said thoughtfully. “Of course, I had to be in Demon’s eyesight the entire time because he was listening to me and not His Majesty but it’s a start.”

  “A definite start,” Roke agreed. “I take it the ultimate goal is for the Crown Prince to ride Demon without you being there?”

  “Yes, I believe the Prince wants to ride him where everyone in the Court can see him looking fine and grand just once. After that, maybe he’ll give me a piece of the Healing Lattice.”

  “I’m curious to know what the Lattice looks like,” Roke remarked. He had tried once or twice to catch a glimpse of it, but it was secreted in the very center of the palace in an inner sanctum ringed with guards day and night. Though he was an extremely competent thief, he had to admit there was no casual way in or out of the inner sanctum where the Healing Lattice was kept.

  “I’d like to know, too.” Ellilah sighed. “This quest is taking longer than I thought it would. My one comfort is that the wasting sickness the old Priestess Superior has is supposed to take a long time to kill its victims. So she should hopefully still be all right by the time I get back to the Mother Ship.”

  “Hopefully,” Roke murmured, kissing her on the top of her head again. “Are you almost ready to go? You know the Duke and Duchess won’t like it if we’re late.”

  “I know,” Ellilah said. She made a face. “I just hope we have something better than slime soup and rotten eggs tonight.”

  It was true that the Tenebrian cuisine still left a lot to be desired. Luckily, they had a few simple dishes which the servant class ate and their fruits were delicious. Roke and Ellilah had taken to just pretending to eat during the formal Suppers and then calling for the more simple fare to be sent to their room later.

  Of course, their second supper often went cold since they couldn’t keep their hands off each other after all the Mirroring they were required to do, but that was certainly a price Roke was willing to pay to taste his curvy little priestess and feel her coming against his tongue…Gods, just the thought of it made him hot!

  “You’re looking lovely tonight, little priestess,” he murmured, running his hands up and down Ellilah’s sides and then reaching around to cup her full breasts, which were clearly exposed by the mostly see-through Supper gown she was wearing. Tonight the lace patches held together by the silky transparent fabric were deep crimson, but none of them covered either her breasts or her sex, which meant her curvy body was beautifully on display.

  “Roke…” She blushed prettily in the mirror but didn’t try to stop him when he circled the tight points of her nipples through the silky, see-through fabric. In fact, she pressed her breasts forward into his hands, eager for his touch.

  “Mmm…” Leaning down, he pressed a kiss to the tender side of her throat, feeling his fangs itch and ache as he did so.

  Lately the stubby little fangs he’d barely noticed his entire life had been bothering him in ways they never had before, but Roke paid them no mind. He was more focused on Ellilah.

  “We have a little time before Supper,” he murmured. “Are you aching, little priestess?”

  “How c
an I help it when…when you’re teasing me like that?” Ellilah said breathlessly, nodding down to where he was gently twisting her tight peaks.

  “Just trying to get you ready for our Mirroring tonight,” Roke murmured and nipped gently at her slender throat.

  For a moment he wished he could actually bite her, but that was foolish. He wasn’t really a Blood Kindred, after all—he was Havoc and that was the only side of his heritage he wished to claim.

  “Why don’t you let me heal you before we go?” he asked softly in her ear.

  Ellilah bit her lip, her brow furrowing in anxiety.

  “Roke, you really shouldn’t be, uh, healing me before we have to start Mirroring, should you? And besides, didn’t you just say that the Duke and Duchess would be upset if we were late?”

  “Let them wait,” Roke growled. Dropping to his knees before her, he pressed her back against the wall and raised the silky skirt of her dress to bare her plump little pussy mound, which drew him like a magnet.

  Pressing his cheek to her small patch of blonde curls, he rubbed against her, marking her with his own scent while inhaling hers—loving the sweet, feminine aroma of her desire.

  “You’re already wet, my Numalla,” he growled, looking up at her.

  “I…I am?” Ellilah was biting her lip but her vivid green eyes were half-lidded and glazed with desire. Her small hands, when she reached for him, didn’t try to push Roke away. Instead, her fingers stroked lovingly through his hair, sending a shiver of lust down his spine. “How can you tell?” she asked.

  “By your sweet scent,” Roke told her, nuzzling her again. He had never known a female to get so wet so fast. Though she tried to deny it, Ellilah was hot-blooded—as sexually needy as any male, he thought. Her appetites matched his own, which was something he loved about her. “Should I prove it to you?” he asked, looking up at her.

  “Roke, you shouldn’t…” she protested but she didn’t try to stop him when he spread her thighs. In fact, she widened her legs to let him in, allowing him easy access to her soft little pussy.