Unleashed by the Defender: A Kindred Tales Novel

by Anderson, Evangeline

  “Like…that,” J’are echoed her in a soft growl.

  Looking up, Imani saw that his pale green eyes were half-lidded, like half-moons in his dark face. She saw desire in his gaze—desire and need and hunger…hunger for her.

  Oh God, I should really stop now! This is getting to be too much!

  But she didn’t stop. Instead, she found herself reaching between his thighs with her other hand to stroke the heavy sac hanging there. She cupped it lightly, weighing his balls in her hand, while she continued to caress his shaft in long, slow, deliberate strokes.

  “You…Claimed me.” J’are’s deep voice was rough and she felt his cock getting even harder in her hand.

  “Yes, J’are—I did,” she murmured. “I Claimed you.”

  “I am…yours.”

  The last word came out in a low growl and then he was coming—shooting thick spurts of seed into the bathwater while Imani held his shaft in her hand.

  She should have jerked her fingers away but somehow she couldn’t. She just watched, feeling hypnotized by the sight as the big Kindred came over and over, his eyes locked on her face as he shot his seed.

  It seemed to go on forever but at last he stopped shooting—though his shaft refused to go down and get soft, the way a human male’s cock would have.

  Oh my God, I just stood here and basically jerked him off! Shouldn’t have done that—why did I do it? Imani asked herself as she quickly disengaged and got him a towel to dry off with.

  What was wrong with her, acting this way with a client? Especially one that wasn’t really in his right mind? If anyone had been watching, they would have thought she was taking advantage of the big Kindred. Or at the very least, being extremely unethical.

  It won’t happen again, Imani promised herself. I’ll get him dried off and dressed and—

  She stopped, realizing she didn’t have anything to dress the big Kindred in. He couldn’t put back on the trousers he had just taken off—they were completely filthy and stiff with the black paint it had been so difficult to get off his skin and out of his hair.

  “I’ll have to call down and see if they can provide me with some clothes for him,” she muttered to herself. “I’ll have to see—”

  A sudden, low growl interrupted her monologue and she looked up to see J’are clutching his stomach.

  “Hungry,” he said. “Not much to eat in the hole.”

  “Oh, of course you are!” Imani felt bad for not thinking of this before. “I’ll get you something—I promise! You just get dried off.”

  And she bustled out of the bathroom to search for whatever they used here in place of a phone to call room service and get some food and clothing sent up.

  Thirteen

  What the Yonnites had in place of a phone was actually a kind of intercom system, Imani found, after searching all around the room. She never would have found it at all if she hadn’t heard a soft burst of static coming from it and looked up to see the sleek white box mounted on the wall above the bed.

  “Hello?” she called, looking up at it uncertainly. “Uh, is anyone there?”

  “Yezz Mizz Williamzz?” buzzed the familiar voice and Imani was certain she was talking to one of the huge pink praying mantises again. “How may I zzerve you?” it asked.

  “Uh, I’d like to order some room service.”

  “Room zzervice?” the voice sounded confused.

  “Oh—some food, I mean,” Imani said.

  “Very well. Pleazze look at the menu and plazze your order at your convenienzze,” the voice buzzed.

  “What menu?” Imani asked but almost before the words were out of her mouth, a small light on the underside of the box began to glow and a holographic menu was suddenly projected right in front of her in green light letters.

  Imani looked at it in surprise at first…and then incomprehension. She had no idea what the exotic-sounding dishes on the holo-menu were.

  “What in the world?” she muttered, looking at a dish called “ootor-flak.” "What is that?”

  As she spoke, she touched the menu item with one finger, as she would a real menu.

  The item turned from green to red at once and Imani pulled back her finger. Oops! Did that mean she had ordered it? She certainly hadn’t meant to, yet when she touched it again, it remained red so there didn’t seem to be anything she could do about it.

  At first she was upset but then she realized it didn’t matter. Since she had no idea what any of the items were, so she might as well pick some at random. She chose a few more menu items—trying to get one from each section of the menu in hopes that she would find something edible the big Kindred enjoyed. Finally she called to the sleek white box on the wall,

  “Okay, I’m finished with the menu.”

  “Very good, Mizzz, Williamzzz,” the buzzing voice told her. “Your selectionzz will be zzent to your room very zzoon.”

  Just at that moment, J’are wandered from the bathroom into the bedroom. He had finished drying himself but hadn’t felt the need to keep the towel, she saw with some dismay. He was completely naked and it didn’t seem to bother him a bit.

  “Wait—there’s one more thing,” Imani said to the box quickly. “Could you please also send me some clothing for a male? Uh, size extra, extra, extra large,” she added.

  “Zzertainly, a zzelection of bodyslave clothing will be zzent to your room along with your food,” the buzzing voice told her. Then it clicked off and the white box was silent.

  “Well,” Imani muttered, trying not to look at the huge, naked Nightwalker who was wandering around the room, obviously completely comfortable in his skin. “I guess we’ll see how long that takes to get here.”

  “Food soon?” J’are came over and looked down at her with a hopeful expression on his face.

  “Yes, food soon,” Imani promised him, trying not to look down at his still-hard shaft. God, didn’t he ever go down?

  Now that he was clean with no black paint on him, she couldn’t help but admire his physique. He was so big and muscular everywhere and he had a kind of unconscious, animal grace when he moved. He sort of flowed across the room, moving so smoothly he reminded her of a huge cat. The thick black tattoo-like markings that ran down his arms and back and across his chest made him look exotic and dangerous.

  Well, he certainly was dangerous—she knew that for a fact, considering how many other prisoners he had killed. But now that she had “Claimed” him, she didn’t feel threatened by the big Nightwalker at all. Though he did seem to feel that her Claiming had some unusual and unexpected connotations, she thought, remembering the way he had demanded she wash him “everywhere.”

  The memory of jerking him off made her cheeks get hot again. Why had she done it? She should have refused. But she’d felt almost hypnotized by those pale green eyes and the way he had said, “I am yours,” as he came.

  Her illicit thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door.

  Imani went to answer it, but J’are was suddenly there ahead of her, growling low in his throat as he stared at the door.

  “It’s all right,“ Imani put a hand on his arm soothingly. “It’s just room service. Just food,” she corrected herself, seeing that he didn’t understand.

  But even the mention of food couldn’t make J’are back down. He stood there naked, blocking the door, so that Imani was forced to reach around him to open it.

  Outside was a male servant dressed in the golden livery of the Luxx. He was pushing a golden cart which hovered three feet off the ground and had a number of golden domes resting on it. His eyes widened when he saw the huge Kindred standing there, blocking the way.

  “D-delivering what you ordered, My Lady?” he stammered, seeing Imani peering around J’are’s broad shoulder.

  “Oh yes, thank you. You can bring it right in,” Imani told him. She put a hand on J’are’s arm. “Come on now—let him bring it in. That’s our dinner, okay?”

  J’are’s nose wrinkled and he inhaled deeply, as though ass
essing if the male servant posed any threat. At last he stepped back and allowed the man to push the hovering cart into the room.

  “I’ll just set your Last Meal up here on the dining table, if I may, My Lady?” the servant asked, still keeping a nervous eye on J’are.

  “Dining table?” Imani asked but the servant was already opening a door off of the living area, which she had assumed was another bathroom. Inside was a lavishly decorated dark wood dining table with eight gold brocade chairs and a crystal chandelier hovering—-apparently without any ropes or cords—high above the surface of the table.

  The servant went to work quickly, unloading the gold-domed plates along with some eating utensils and napkins. He even left a covered basket, which he told Imani was a selection of tropical fruits—“On the house, of course, because you ordered so many fine dishes. The kitchen wanted to send its respects and gratitude.” He was about to leave when he looked at J’are one more time and snapped his fingers.

  “Oh, I almost forgot, My Lady! Here are the clothes you ordered. If they don’t fit, you can call for a different size.”

  From under the cloth covering the floating cart, he drew out several silk-wrapped packages and stacked them in one of the chairs.

  “Thank you so much.” Imani smiled at him. “Um, I’m not sure how tipping works here—I’ve never been to this planet before. Do I add a gratuity to my cred chip for you?”

  “No gratuity needed, My Lady,” the servant said quickly. “Just happy to be of service.” And he left as fast as he could, still eyeing J’are on his way out.

  “I think you made him nervous,” Imani said to the big Kindred, who was still glaring at the shut door. “And I can’t say that I blame him. Well—let’s see if any of these clothes work for you.”

  She opened some of the silk-wrapped packages and found a pair of dark blue silky sleep trousers, a pair of leather trousers with the crotch cut out, another pair which mercifully had the crotch intact, and several pairs of skimpy Speedo-looking underpants in various colors. There were no shirts—apparently bodyslaves didn’t get to wear them. There was, however, a pair of calf-height, black boots which looked like they might fit the big Kindred.

  “Here—put these on,” she told J’are, handing him the dark blue sleep trousers, which had fancy golden curlicue designs printed all over them. He pulled them on without comment and was finally covered. Which made it much easier to look at him without remembering what she had just done while she was bathing him, Imani thought, feeling her cheeks get hot. Honestly, what had gotten into her?

  Well, whatever it was, it wasn’t going to happen again, she promised herself firmly. And she wasn’t going to think about it anymore. Right now it was time to eat and she was really hungry.

  “Come on,” she said to J’are as he finished adjusting the trousers. They hung low on his narrow hips and emphasized the broadness of his bare chest. “Let’s eat.”

  Fourteen

  Imani wasn’t sure what to expect when she took the golden dome off the first plate but it certainly wasn’t a squirming mass of live, dark blue and purple worms.

  “Ugh!” she exclaimed and banged the lid back down hastily. “How awful! Is that normal Yonnite food?” she asked, looking up at J’are.

  He shrugged, his broad shoulders rolling, which seemed to make the thick black markings on his arms and chest ripple.

  “Is skriglers.”

  “Skriglers?” Imani shuddered. “Well, I don’t want any of those, that’s for sure!”

  Hoping the other food wouldn’t still be alive, she pulled the dome off a second plate. A rush of savory-smelling steam emerged, blocking her sight but making her mouth water.

  “Oh, this is more like it!” Imani exclaimed. “This smells absolutely…uh…”

  The words died in her throat when the steam cleared and she saw what was on the large plate.

  It appeared to be the head of some kind of creature—it looked a little like a wild pig or boar. But along with its long, wrinkled snout and ugly tusks, it also had a single spiral horn right in the middle of its forehead.

  Ugh—it’s a pigacorn! Or maybe a hogacorn, Imani thought, feeling slightly ill. The long snout gaped open with a blackened fruit jammed between its jaws. The eyes were still intact—they gazed at her with mute reproach as she looked down at the decapitated head.

  “That’s even worse!” Imani exclaimed, slamming the second lid back down. “Didn’t I order anything edible?”

  As it turned out, she hadn’t.

  Every single one of the dishes was disturbing either to look at or to smell. At one point Imani thought she’d found a bowl of granola she could eat, only to look closer and find it was a mass of tiny insects about the size of ladybugs with spotted yellow and brown shells that were slowly crawling all over each other.

  Then there was the thick cut of meat which looked a little like a steak but was bright green. Imani didn’t love the color, but she was willing to try a bite—until she leaned closer and smelled it. The reek of rotten meat mixed with dirty socks met her nose, making her jerk her head back sharply and mutter, “Nope. No way. Uh-uh!”

  There was also what appeared to be a cheese tray, with many different kinds of cheeses, all shaped into neat wedges. But when she went to use the small, ornamental knife that came with the tray to cut off a promising looking wedge, the “cheese” she was cutting emitted a high-pitched shriek and writhed away, leaving a trail of bright red slime that looked suspiciously like blood.

  Imani shrieked herself and dropped the knife, which clattered onto the tray. This outburst caused J’are to look at her anxiously, as though wondering if she was all right. Imani was sorry she’d scared him, but she was scared too—scared of the crazy food the Luxx served. Was all Yonnite food this awful? If so, why hadn’t Kat warned her and packed her about two dozen protein bars for just this kind of contingency?

  “I give up!” she exclaimed at last, taking a step away from the table and throwing up her hands. “I guess I’ll be fasting while I’m here.”

  Which wasn’t a great idea, since extreme dieting gave her a headache that wouldn’t quit and made it hard to think. Imani knew that from hard personal experience, when she’d tried desperately to lose weight to impress a guy she liked in college. After days of headaches and dizziness with no results, she’d realized she would just have to make peace with her curves.

  But right now, it seemed like maybe she was going to be losing weight the hard way—because there was nothing to eat that wasn’t disgusting or still alive or both on this freaking planet!

  “You…don’t like food?” J’are, who had been watching her closely as she uncovered the various dishes asked.

  “No, I don’t like the food! I don’t want to eat anything that’s staring at me or smells like rotten meat and old socks. And I especially don’t want to eat something that screams and bleeds when I cut it because it’s still alive!”

  Imani sighed and ran a hand over her braids, trying to get a grip on herself. She looked up apologetically at J’are, who was watching her with wide eyes.

  “Sorry—I didn’t mean to snap at you. It’s just…this isn’t the kind of thing I’m used to at all. I mean, I’m not opposed to trying new things, just not things that scream when I try to take a bite,” she added, looking mistrustfully at the “cheese” tray, where most of the wedges were now clumped together at one end as though they were trying to keep each other safe.

  “You don’t like…fancy food?” J’are seemed to be struggling to get to the idea he was trying to express. Maybe he was still fighting his feral side, Imani speculated.

  “No.” She sighed. “Not even back on Earth—my own planet. I’ve never been much for caviar or truffles or anything boushie like that. I like something simple, without too many ingredients.” She thought longingly of her grandma’s sweet potato pie and sighed.

  “You like…fruit?” J’are asked. He lifted one of the discarded golden domes and indicated the complimentary f
ruit basket that Imani had forgotten about. “Simple,” he pointed out. “Not many…ingredients.”

  “Oh, you’re right!” Imani exclaimed. “Thank you, J’are! I forgot all about that. Now, let me see…”

  She selected a small pink fruit about the size of a kiwi with tiny blue dots and took a nibble. To her relief, it tasted normal. Well, if not exactly normal, then at least good. It was sweet and tart and had notes of watermelon, lime, and strangely, buttered toast. But somehow the flavors worked together and Imani was happy to finish the fruit right down it its three, round, bright green seeds.

  After that, she tried something that looked like a large, purple banana. It had a thick, crunchy texture that reminded her more of a macadamia nut than a fruit, but since she liked macadamia nuts, that was fine with Imani. The purple banana was slightly salty as well as sweet and very filling. By the time she’d finished it, she felt satisfied.

  “Ahh,” she sighed, wiping her mouth and fingers on a gold brocade napkin. “Well, I guess I’m going Vegan while I’m here—or maybe Fruitarian. But at least now I know what to order—thank you, J’are.”

  The big Kindred smiled at her. He had been sampling some of the other dishes, though thankfully not the screaming, bleeding “cheese,” and he seemed satisfied as well.

  Do you actually like all that?” Imani asked. “Because there’s plenty more fruit if you want some.” She nodded at the still mostly full basket which still held a wide variety of exotic looking fruit.

  J’are shrugged, his tattoo-like markings flowing with the motion.

  “Fancy food not best—but better than in the hole.”

  Imani wondered again what awful things had happened to him in the Yonnite prison. Would he ever come all the way out of his feral state so she could ask him? Or was this as far out of it as he got? Maybe he always talked like a caveman and that was just part of being a Nightwalker Kindred.

  She had no idea but she did know she was horribly tired. It had been a long, long day and she just wanted to get a shower and some rest.