by I. T. Lucas
Letting out a breath, Brenna nodded. “I know. I read the instructions. That’s not what scares me.” She plastered a smile on her face and looked up at him. “But never mind that. I just want to see that contraption of yours already.”
8
Brenna
“Good to go?” Sarah the technician asked.
Brenna shifted, wondering if she could ask Sarah for a towel to wipe the sweat off her back. The process of attaching the many wires to her body had been lengthy, and even though the tech was super nice and answered politely and thoroughly all her questions, Brenna couldn’t help feeling anxious.
Terrified was more like it.
As much as she wanted to be adventurous, the truth was that new things scared her. Nevertheless, she wasn’t going to back out from this. She was going to flex her mental muscles and push through the fear like she’d done countless times before.
“Can I make a suggestion?”
“Of course. That’s what beta testing is for.”
“This recliner is comfortable, but it should be covered with a towel. People sweat when they’re nervous, and this is scary.”
Another suggestion that she was later going to give Gabriel was to decorate the room. It was stark, loaded with beeping monitoring equipment, and the chair looked like something from a sci-fi movie about mental torturing. The reclining chair was exactly the type used in dental offices, again, not a calm-inspiring piece.
Sarah jumped out of her chair. “You’re absolutely right. I’ll get one for you.”
As Brenna waited for the technician, scenes from her fantasy flashed through her mind, making her blush. She wondered what Gabriel’s was like, and whether it resembled hers in any way.
Probably not.
His was most likely much more mundane and without any kinky elements, which meant that she was obsessing for nothing. None of the embarrassing stuff she’d put in there was going to play out.
Letting out a relieved breath, Brenna felt the tension leave her body. She’d been brave, she’d put it out there, so there was that.
No regrets.
And chances were she wouldn’t have to act on any of that. Still, she couldn’t help the small ping of disappointment. But it was not important. Even if she didn’t get to experience her secret desires, she was still going to be a pioneer,
Brenna and Gabriel were going to be the first to try out a revolutionary technology. It still amazed her that he was in another room and yet they could mind-connect through the program and get to experience an adventure that would supposedly feel like real life.
“Here you go,” Sarah said as she tucked the towel behind Brenna’s back. “Comfy?”
“Yes, thank you.”
“Try to relax. I’m going to count from one to ten. By the time I’m done, you should enter a sleep-like state. The fantasy will not start playing out right away. First, your body and mind need to be completely relaxed and ready to enter the dream state.”
“Got it.”
“Enjoy,” was the last thing Brenna heard before drifting away.
9
Rena
Her heart beating a drumroll against her ribcage, Rena watched the library doors. It was nearly four in the afternoon, and he was never late. Like clockwork, he would stride in, his long colorful robes flying behind him, and take a seat at the library’s center table.
No one ever dared sit there at this time of day.
Heck, the library practically emptied out of humans at quarter to four. The only ones who remained, or dared to come in, were those who didn’t frequent it and therefore didn’t know that it was his from four until closing at seven.
Most days, it was just him and the library staff of three humans. Melanie was the head librarian, and Gregor was another assistant like Rena.
Sure, there were the occasional teenagers who thought to prove their bravery by coming in, but they never stayed long.
It wasn’t safe to be around the Krall. And councilman Brel, who was supposedly a human rights activist, was no exception.
Despite his impassioned speeches about abolishing human slavery altogether, he was still a bloodsucker like the rest of them.
And just as achingly beautiful.
Rena often wondered whether the legends about the fallen angels turned demons had been about the Krall.
“Waiting for your boyfriend?” Gregor sneered as he passed by her with a cartload of returned books.
“Stop that. I’m just drawing pictures of him.”
“You’re going to get in trouble, Rena. It’s forbidden to capture a Krall’s image.”
“No, I’m not. He can’t see me behind the bookcase, and I only draw a little bit every time he comes.”
Moving some books aside, she made a small peephole to gaze at the gorgeous councilman in secret. Brel couldn’t see her from where he was sitting, and since no one else was in the library while he was there, she wasn’t going to get caught.
“Just don’t look into his eyes, okay?”
“What do you think, that I’m stupid?”
Gregor shrugged. “It’s easy to slip. Be careful. One look and you are his.”
“I’m not going to let it happen.”
The Krall government had passed a law against enslaving unwilling humans. But if a human looked into a demon’s eyes, the demon could take control of his or her mind and make him or her willing.
It was called thralling, and it was allowed.
Still, it was better than what her parents’ and grandparents’ generations had endured. There had been no laws protecting them from the demons.
“I’m sure that this was exactly what Wendy thought.”
Rena waved a dismissive hand. “Wendy was always fascinated by the Krall.”
“Yeah, and now she is a blood whore, addicted to their bites.”
“That’s not a nice thing to say, Gregor.”
“It’s the truth. They suck her blood and fuck her for money.”
Tired of the negativity, Rena pointed at his cart. “Don’t you have books to put back on the shelves?”
Gregor gave the cart a shove, but then looked at her over his shoulder. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
His virulent hatred of the Krall made Rena suspect Gregor of being part of the resistance. Those humans weren’t actively trying to take over, that would’ve been suicide, but they were organizing escapes to the human-controlled south.
The Krall, or the demon horde as the humans called them from a safe distance, had lain dormant under the frozen ground of Greenland for tens of thousands of years. That was until about fifty years ago, when a massive earthquake had released them from their undead grave.
Starved for blood, they’d taken control of most of Greenland’s adult population, turning them into walking snack machines. Not sucking them dry, though, which the Krall had been harping over and over about to show how benevolent they were.
As if not killing off their feeders and servants was such an incredible sacrifice on their part. Their food sources going extinct was what had forced them into hibernation in the first place.
No one knew that for sure, and talking about it was forbidden, but Gregor and many others believed that an ice age, not the last big one, but several ones before it, had killed or chased off the northern humanoid population. Since the bloodsuckers couldn’t survive on any blood other than human, and their intolerance to bright sunshine and warm weather prevented them from migrating south, they’d had no choice but to go to ground.
The demons would still be sleeping if not for that earthquake. But it had happened, and nothing had been the same ever since.
At least not in the north.
South of the arctic circle, life went on as if nothing had happened.
With their god-like mind control making them invincible, the Krall had managed to overtake all of the arctic circle. They’d left the rest of earth to humanity on the condition that they wouldn’t be bothered and that the humans in their territori
es would remain theirs to do with as they pleased.
A peace agreement had been reached, and the small human population of the very north had been sacrificed to the Krall.
The good of the many had outweighed the good of the few.
Some had managed to escape, though, and go to the south.
But Rena’s life wasn’t bad enough to justify taking such a risk. If she got caught trying to escape, she would be sentenced to slavery, and once under a demon’s control, there was no escaping. Not even the resistance could save her then.
It was better to just lay low, keep her head down, and make sure not to look into any Krall’s eyes.
As long as she did that, she was safe.
The moment the antique clock on the wall struck four, the library doors flew open, and Councilman Brel strode in, wearing blue robes over purple slacks and a white shirt. The Krall’s dark coloring lent itself to the bright-colored outfits they favored. Some sneered at their garments, but Rena thought that the blend of traditional Japanese silks with contemporary form-fitting cuts was beautiful.
Not that the demons needed clothing to make them stand out.
They were all gorgeous in a dark, dangerous way, but Councilman Brel was in a league of his own.
That was why Rena couldn't resist committing his visage to paper. The Krall didn’t permit the use of cameras, or cellphones, or a connection to the internet. So, the only way to capture a picture of one was drawing, and that wasn’t allowed either. But at least the means for it were available.
Pulling the small pouch of crayons out of her dress pocket, Rena put it on the bookshelf, next to her peeping gap, and then flipped her sketchbook to a new page. It was almost full, all of it portraits of Brel in different robes and poses.
First, she drew a quick contour, capturing his relaxed pose.
Leaning back in the chair, his long legs stretched out in front of him, he was reading yet another human history book.
Rena often wondered why he didn’t take the books to his home, reading them in the library instead.
Could it be that he was lonely?
The Krall didn’t enter relationships with each other. They had a strange system of short-term mating for breeding purposes, but the males never stayed with the females after pregnancy occurred. Still, each Krall had a household of human slaves, or paid servants for the more progressive ones like Councilman Brel. So, they weren’t strictly alone.
When the contour was done, she put the pencil back in the pouch and pulled out a blue one to start on the robe.
Except, she must have forgotten to zip up the pouch, and the pencil rolled out, falling to the floor before she could catch it.
Mortified, she ducked below the peeping gap and held her breath.
It couldn’t have made as loud of a sound as she’d thought, right?
Her fear must have amplified it.
She was still crouching when a long-fingered hand clamped on her upper arm and pulled her up.
Rena screamed.
“What are you doing, little one?” Brel snatched the sketch pad out of her hand.
Damn demons and their unnatural speed. One moment he was sitting at the table, the next he was right there beside her, holding her in an iron grip.
As he let go of her arm to flip through the sketches, Rena wanted to flee, but all she could do was stand frozen and stare at the floor, or rather at his shiny blue boots.
It was all over.
She was going to get sentenced to slavery for the rest of her life.
10
Brel
As Brel flipped from page to page, admiring the skill and amount of detail that went into them, he was also impressed by the little librarian’s courage.
She’d risked her freedom to draw those portraits of him, sixteen if he’d counted right. Why had she done it?
Was it for the sake of art?
He doubted it. Likely she wished to sell them. The humans in the south were very curious about the Krall and therefore willing to pay handsomely for good quality portraits like these. Instead of a photograph, one of these drawings could be used in a newspaper article, guaranteeing explosive sales.
“Why did you draw these?”
“The robes. They are so pretty,” she mumbled under her breath.
Brel sniffed, smelling truth mingled with lie. “Did you plan to sell them?”
Without lifting her eyes off his shoes, she gasped and shook her head. “No. They were for me.”
Truth. But then some humans were well skilled at lying. She could mix enough truth with the lie to mask it, and for me could have many meanings. She could be keeping the portraits as insurance for a rainy day, to sell them when she needed money the most.
“Look at me!”
She shook her head.
“I’m not going to thrall you. You have my word.”
When she still didn’t look up, he hooked a finger under her chin. “When I give my word, it’s considered an insult to doubt it.”
Finally, she lifted her eyelids, but instead of looking into his eyes, she focused on the tip of his nose.
Brel stifled a chuckle. “I’ll let you in on a secret, little one.” He bent low to whisper in her ear. “I don’t need to look into your eyes to thrall you. You can be asleep, or awake, see me or not, hear me or not, it doesn’t matter. I can take control of your mind whenever I please.”
She swayed on her feet, and her strong scent of fear made him regret his words. He hadn’t wished to frighten her.
“But as long as I don’t look into your eyes,” she whispered. “I don’t acquiesce to becoming your slave.”
He smoothed his fingers over her soft cheek. “There could be worse fates than being my slave. I’m a kind master.”
The shiver that ran through her body had nothing to do with fear, but everything to do with the girl’s nascent desire.
Sweet.
His own arousal clouding his judgment, Brel was momentarily tempted to take her. It had been a long while since he’d had a blood slave. Nowadays he paid for the blood he needed, and afterward the sex was most often offered freely. Feeding was erotic in nature, and it evoked the need for coupling.
Brel made a point not to pay for that part of the exchange.
But he was lonely, and the thought of having the sweet young human to feed on and take pleasure from suddenly seemed very appealing.
Regrettably, the only kind of relationship a Krall and a human could have was master and slave or servant.
Unlike the Krall, humans entered lifelong contracts called marriage, and they raised their children together. The Krall were a much more individualistic species, and a similar institution didn’t exist in their society.
Both males and females were predatory and dominant in nature, and their coupling was violent, rough, and lacking in emotion. Its only purpose was to produce offspring, and once that was achieved, they went their separate ways.
A human female would be soft, pliable, agreeable.
“What are you going to do with me?” the girl whispered.
“What’s your name, little one?”
“Rena.” A small smile lifted one corner of her lips. “You keep calling me little. I’m not.”
She was tall for a human female, but compared to him, or any other Krall, Rena was small.
“Does it offend you?”
Shaking her head, she shifted from foot to foot. “It doesn't. I just thought it was funny. But thank you for asking.”
He had a feeling she thought of it as a compliment.
The question was where to go from there. If the circumstances were different, he would’ve preferred for her to come willingly with him, but she’d committed an offense, and as a councilman, he couldn’t turn a blind eye to it.
On the other hand, there was no way he was reporting her either. If she was to be anyone’s slave, she would be his.
“You know that what you did was illegal, true?”
“I didn’t mean to share them.�
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“The prohibition on capturing a Krall’s image doesn’t specify the use of it. You broke the law.”
Rena swallowed. “Please don’t report me. I’ll do anything you want.” She glanced at his mouth, no doubt thinking about his fangs on her neck, feeding from her.
Silly girl.
He could pay for all the feeding he needed.
“You’ll do that regardless, little one. But I have to admit that I’ve taken a liking to you, and I don’t want to see you end up in the hands of some cruel master.” Which was true of most of the Krall.
This time, she looked into his eyes, and what he saw in their teary blue depths took his breath away. So much emotion. Fear, defiance, desire, longing, her eyes were so expressive.
A Krall’s black eyes could never express that much.
“Then what are you going to do with me, councilman Brel?”
He stroked her cheek with two fingers. “I’m taking you home with me.”
She took a step back, and he allowed it. “I was under the impression that you were against human slavery.”
Evidently, there was spunk in there too. Which made him want her even more.
“I am against slavery. But you’ve transgressed, and by doing so, you’ve forfeited your freedom. As a councilman, I can’t ignore your crime, but I have the power to determine your punishment. Once that is done, you will remain in my household, but not as a slave.”
She looked at him with hope sparking in her eyes. “As a servant?”
He searched his mind for a term she would not take offense to.
“I don’t need any more servants. You will be my consort.”
Rena tilted her head, but her eyes never left his. “A consort is like a spouse. Are you proposing, Councilman?”
Where the hell had this sudden spunk appeared from? The little mousy librarian was showing her little claws.