by Viola Grace
Torenne handed Khytten the bag. “Go wash up and change. You are all smudged.”
Liika chuckled and went to the wall where she touched something. “Now, I can finally display this.”
The image of Salat and Khytten from the tribunal against a wall with his arms protectively around her was definitely sending a message to the handful of peacekeepers who remained in the lobby.
Torenne snickered. “She is going to crap a brick when she comes out and sees a life-sized poster of herself.”
“Do you think she will be mad?”
“No, I think she will blush and know it was Salat who gave that to you.”
“Actually, it was the prefect’s office. Now that she has been here, the prefect is setting these posters up at all the ranges around the country. Anywhere that had images of Salat will now post this as well.” Liika leaned forward. “Is it true that she volunteered to be his direct breeder?”
Torenne chucked. “It isn’t quite true. She’s still thinking about it.”
Liika leaned in. “I mean... how would he even fit?”
“Khytten is exceptional in many ways. He fits.”
“And she’s an active so... oh.”
“She’s a snug fit no matter who she is with, but she does fit.”
Liika blinked. “Oh. Right. Well, she looks as dangerous as she is, so she matches Salat.”
Just as Liika was speaking, Khytten came out of the changeroom, all softness and creamy skin, wearing one of the light chiffon dresses that Torenne loved to see her in. The strappy sandals were four inches, and the underbust corset she wore cinched in her waist tight and made her already large breasts look impossible.
Her brown and gold hair was a rumpled frame to her sweet face. She looked adorable and not deadly in any way unless you liked women who looked soft as silk. Torenne definitely did.
* * * *
Torenne walked up to her and hugged her. “Who’s my big, strong assassin?”
Khytten chuckled. “That is killing for money. I kill for entertainment and to get my way.”
Liika walked up and cleared her throat. “Um, Ikir, they are going to ask why you didn’t use your small weapons? That is what they were expecting.”
Khytten blinked. “Because I know how my weapons work, and I needed something long range but didn’t want to carry it. It is much easier to let your opponent carry the heavy stuff for you and pick it up on the scene. A true enemy doesn’t send you a list of what they will be using, so to abide by that logic is a little stupid.”
Liika blinked and giggled.
The first of the recovered peacekeepers came out and looked around. Medics were helping the others as the second range was being prepped for the next round.
“Oh. Medics. Did you get hurt anywhere, Khytten?” Torenne looked her over, and nothing was visible.
“I pulled my left shoulder, have a bruise along my right thigh, and nailed the inside of my left thigh when I climbed that fence.”
“Like, an actual nail?”
“Actual nail.”
“Lift your skirt.”
“There are people watching.”
“Lift it, or I tell Salat you refused medical assistance.”
“Medical lechery is more like it.”
She carefully pulled her skirt up to mid-thigh, where the trickle of blood was making its way down toward her knee. Torenne knelt on one knee with the other bent and put Khytten’s foot on it. She leaned forward and applied her tongue to the puncture. Khytten inhaled sharply when the spear of pain ran through her while tissue healed and her nerves came back online.
Torenne’s voice was thick when she said, “Turn.”
The foot came down, and the skirt was lifted again, the soft waves of fabric kept everything discreet, but there were still a lot of admirers in the men and women gathered as Torenne tongued the bruise away.
She got to her feet and looked at the shoulder, running her fingers along it. “This one is going to hurt, so I would rather do it faster. Are you good with that?”
Khytten could feel the dull burn that was rapidly turning into a raging roar. “Get it done, please.”
Torenne held her close, slid a hand under her neckline, pushing the small, fluttery sleeve off the shoulder, and her fingers dug in while the healer kissed her deeply.
The public kissing took some getting used to, but once Khytten was focused on it, she let it become her world. She threaded her fingers through Torenne’s hair and held her until the healing was finished.
They slowly parted, and there was a lot more of Khytten on display than was necessary. “When did that happen?”
Torenne kissed her shoulder and the upper curve of the exposed breast. “You had some soft tissue damage in your pectoral.”
“Which you could reach with your palm.”
“Any excuse to get you used to the public.”
“Or get them used to me.”
Someone from the gathered peacekeepers said, “Hey, aren’t you the milkmaid?”
Khytten had her wrist with the cuff blaster pointed at him in half a heartbeat. “Say that name one more time.”
He raised his hands. “I meant no disrespect, but it says so on the news reports.”
She lowered her hand. “What news reports?”
Liika flicked the vid to the news link, and there was a montage of Khytten and Aksalla’s favourite son, Salat.
Khytten noticed something about some of the images. She looked at Torenne suspiciously. “You two did me in. Those are from your place. Those are from his place. That was when we were out on the deck together. Where was the drone?”
Torenne hugged her from behind and rested her chin on her shoulder. “In the tree with the huge knot in it. He knows how you hate to be stared at, so he thought he would get them used to you and the idea of us right from the start.” She chuckled. “Even if I am not a permanent addition.”
“You are pretty fucking permanent, and you know it.”
Torenne kissed her neck. “So, I should cancel my Blind Date application?”
“Up to you. If you want to find someone exclusive, you should definitely keep your application in. You are a catch, after all.”
“And yet, you are the only one who has taken the bait.”
“That is because I exhibit sporadically poor judgment.” She wove her fingers with Torenne’s to take the sting out of the words. “Which, in your case, is becoming habitual.”
Torenne bit her lightly on the shoulder.
A woman was on the vid, and she was speaking. “While I have yet to meet my son’s... companion, I look forward to the experience. If she can put up with Salat, she can achieve great things.”
The woman was silver with the same solid black eyes that Khytten loved looking into. “So that is his...”
“Mom. The Prefect of Aksalla. Don’t get me wrong, his dad is no slouch either, but his mom is scary.”
She chuckled. “So is yours. Don’t think for a moment you forgot to warn me about her hearing. I don’t know how I am going to face her again.”
“It will be easier than facing my father. His gaze is going to be firmly locked on your cleavage.”
“Halko means well. I think. Pretty sure.” She chuckled and turned. “Right. I was promised lunch.”
Miko came over and said, “If you are going for lunch, would you like to join us? We are going to Nafka’s on eleventh.”
Torenne stepped away and smiled. “It’s up to you. My mother is calling.”
Miko looked at Torenne and smiled. “She must have a fun relationship with her mother. That is quite the expression.”
Khytten caught enough of the conversation to smile. “They are discussing something from this morning. Jennela took a sample and had it analyzed. Now she wants more.”
Miko looked at Khytten’s chest. “Oh, you still do that?”
“Yeah. It is my activation. It doesn’t stop, but now, I donate
it instead of dumping it out. Every city has a hospital with babies that need a jump start.” Khytten chuckled. “I am good for that.”
Torenne came back and exhaled. “Right. My mom gave me an address and an express drone for the next time you pump. When you start, they will dispatch the drone, and it will find me, collect the milk, and head to the hospital immediately.”
“Well, that is something.”
Miko blinked. “Jennela? You mean the hunter?”
Torenne chuckled. “And busybody, bossy boots, and general nag. You have no idea how many times I left the house without my coat just to spite her.” Torenne whispered, “She can probably hear us from where she is.”
An outraged voice from her wrist shrieked. “Of course, I can, you idiot. You didn’t close the call!”
Laughing, Torenne lifted the com to display her mother’s face. “Say hello to Khytten before you start cursing, Mom.”
“Hello, Khytten. You are coming for dinner?”
“Yes, Jennela. We are just going for lunch now. I have worked up an appetite.”
“Good. We will be eating at seven.”
“We will be there. I am going to enjoy seeing a bit of the city. It has been a while.”
“If Torenne is taking you, you are going to meet a lot of desserts. Keep room for dinner.”
“Mom, you are totally wrecking my image. I keep Khytten on a healthy diet when I am watching her.”
“You do what, you hypocritical moron? She deserves to have fun, and you need to let her.” Jennela got shrill, and the com started vibrating.
Torenne shut the call off. “Well, you have made an advocate in her. She’s usually only that protective of her cub... uh... kids.”
Miko blinked. “Jennela is your mother?”
“Yup.”
“Holy shit. That means Halko is your father.”
“So, my mother tells him.”
“And that makes you...” Miko looked at Torenne and blushed.
Torenne looked at her. “Yes?”
She mumbled, “The Hermaphrodite Healer.”
“Correct. Still want to see us at lunch?”
Miko blinked. “Yes, of course.”
Khytten curled up against Torenne. “Hey, at least they stuck with the alliteration.”
Torenne looked at her. “I begin to understand Salat’s obsession with spanking you.”
Khytten grinned and cuddled up against her friend. “It took you this long?”
Torenne’s arm snaked around her. “You are in so much trouble.”
“Yeah. I hear that a lot. Shall we go to lunch? I am starting to get the urge to put something in my mouth.”
Torenne blushed and looked at Miko. “We will meet you at Nafka’s in fifteen minutes.”
“It’s a five-minute drive.”
Torenne repeated, “We will meet you at Nafka’s in fifteen minutes.”
Khytten was giggling the entire way out, her bag in hand and pack on her shoulder. She had a very good idea how they were going to spend the next ten minutes.
Chapter Twelve
When they pulled up at the restaurant, Khytten smoothed her skirt, and Torenne fixed her lipstick. Khytten had been wrong, and her body was still rioting with frustration.
Torenne took her hand and kissed it. “If you are good, Khytten, I will give you a spanking later.”
“I don’t think that’s your thing.”
“Is it because I am all delicate and dainty?”
“Parts of you.”
Torenne laughed and lifted her like a damsel. “I still have the subdermal development of my birth body. It is one of the high points of the situation. Strong as an ox, delicate as a flower. I might need to find something to use as a paddle to get sufficient coverage, as I do not have man-hands.”
Torenne carried her to the restaurant before setting her on her feet and patting her backside. “In you go, missy.”
Miko was waiting for them and escorted them into the back, where the group of peacekeepers had seats saved for them. Introductions were made, beverages were ordered, and Khytten stuck to lemonade. It was best that she didn’t contaminate her next delivery.
One of the guys from the range asked, “Why do actives go so crazy for sex? Like, we see it happen again and again. An altercation with an active is more likely to involve sex than a criminal act.”
Torenne chuckled. “Do you want to field that one, Khytten?”
“Sure. Mainly, it comes down to control. Actives have to be in control all of the time. Constantly. Even when having sex, you have to keep part of yourself apart from the person you are with. If the healer let go, whatever she was concentrating on would suffer immediate and catastrophic repair. If Salat let go with me, his blades would emerge. He doesn’t do that. If I let go and stop controlling myself, things get messy. Actives live each day stressed out and unable to even get into contact with each other without a formal interview process. When they get a chance with a willing or even amenable partner, they jump at it, and no one had better get in their fucking way or the way of their fucking. Like turning on a high-pressure tap and then trying to turn it off with two fingers. It ain’t going to happen.”
The men at the table chuckled. The women furrowed their foreheads. Miko asked, “I don’t get it.”
“Don’t have an orgasm for ten years, then get to the edge and have your partner or yourself stop.”
“Oh. Got it.” Miko gave her a thumbs-up.
The guys frowned as the girls nodded in understanding.
Miko leaned forward and whispered, “So, what does Salat think of you two?”
Torenne smiled. “It was Salat that introduced us and that put her into my care while he is out of town on business. He has actively encouraged our interactions on every level.”
Khytten chuckled. “It translates into... it is his own fault.”
The gathered men and women chuckled at Salat’s expense.
“We will have to meet for lunch again when he is back in town.” Khytten smiled. “You can ask him directly.”
The gathering suddenly looked nervous, and Khytten chuckled. “Ah, now not so quick to ask questions.”
The server arrived, and orders were given. When Torenne and Khytten ordered, the group stared.
Miko blinked. “I seem to remember an issue with the mess hall during training, but I didn’t pay attention to it. Do actives always eat that much?”
“Those who have adaptations that burn calories do.” Khytten shrugged. “My body burns more than a thousand extra calories per day if I am just doing passive work. Add any extra exertions into the mix, and it can shoot up to two thousand.”
Torenne smiled. “What kind of extra exertions?”
“Oh, you know. This and that.” Khytten shrugged. “This morning’s exertions in the range would be that type of thing.”
The appetizers came to rest in front of them, and a few of the peacekeepers got theirs.
When they ate, Khytten got a question she had been dreading.
“So, I have heard about the Blind Date Corporation. Is it really an escort service for actives?”
“It is an anonymous escort service for actives.” She nodded and continued eating. The food was a wonderful distraction.
“So, they can get their rocks off?”
Khytten clarified. “So, they can have sex with someone they can’t casually kill with a careless move. Sure, they can still hurt them, but they have to want to, and if they do, they never get another booking and occasionally disappear.”
“The company has them killed?” There were raised brows around the table.
“No, the other patrons usually take care of it. While there are a lot of team members who are patrons of both sexes, there are also a lot of elite criminals, politicians, folk placed in strategic points of organizations and business moguls. There are also less than twenty escorts, so if you injure one who has a lot of admirers, there is no chance
you are getting out alive.”
One of the guys pointed out. “You are an escort.”
“Yeah.”
“What did you think the first time you saw Salat? Were you impressed?”
Khytten snorted. “Are you talking the first time I saw him without my mask? I woke up, and he was looming in the shadows.”
She skipped the mention that he had been inside her at the time.
Torenne chuckled. “He was joking.”
Khytten looked at her. “I was not fucking amused.”
There was a click, and she finally realized that he was counting for her spankings. Crap.
“What do you mean, mask?”
“The escorts wear a mask that blurs perception and keeps our faces from being seen on recording devices. Our patrons don’t know who we are, our names, or what our faces look like.”
Someone asked the obvious. “How did Salat find you then?”
“Management contacted him and gave him my location. We have trackers embedded in us. Salat was contacted, and the grumpy asshole came and got me.”
Click. Click.
She shrugged. “After the rescue was when I saw him in all his pointy-eared glory.” She held up her hand. “Yes, I was suitably impressed.”
The gathering chuckled.
Khytten set her plate aside, and the mains started arriving.
The table was distracted as they ate, but when they were done, one of the women asked, “So, Khytten, how do you manage with the rumoured endowments of our national treasure?”
Khytten blinked. “I am adaptable. It is part of my activation.”
The gathered peacekeepers went silent. Khytten finished the last scrap of food on her plate.
The woman wanted clarification. “What? How is that a thing?”
“I have adaptable junk. Big, small, I can take it all, just not at the same time.”
The table was quiet. Miko looked at Torenne and said, “So, you actually...”
Khytten smiled at her lover. “She’s a little bigger than average, but nothing I can’t deal with. The biggest issue between us is when all the breasts collide.”