Sought...Book 3 in the Brides of the Kindred series (23 page)

The light twin looked uncomfortable.
“Tomorrow night is their full moons festival. I had to promise that
we would make a sacrifice to their gods.”

“A what?” Deep frowned. “Brother if you
think—”

“Not a sacrifice of blood,” Lock
interrupted. “Don’t worry about that—no one needs to get hurt.”

“Then why are you feeling so upset about
it?” Kat asked. “Just tell us, Lock—how bad can it be?”

Lock blew out a breath and raked a hand
through his dark blond hair. “I’m upset because I know
you’re
going to be upset, my lady. I…I had to promise them a
sacrifice of pleasure. We’re going to be acting out the courtship
of the sun and the moons for the, ah, private edification of the
chief.”

“Lock!” Deep looked angry. “Couldn’t you
offer them anything else?”

Lock turned on his brother. “Not without
spilling blood! We trespassed on their holy meadow—we’re lucky
we’re not all
dead
right now.”

“Okay, all right you two.” Kat held up her
hands. “Look, it’s a lot more comfortable being between you when
you’re not angry with each other.”

“I hope you’re willing to be between us in a
much more literal sense then, little Kat,” Deep growled. “Because
that’s what my brother has promised these savages.”

“What?” Kat went cold all over with
apprehension. “What do you mean?”

Lock sighed. “It has to do with the legend
of our sun,
Nyra
, and her two lovers the moons,
Dakir
and
Lanare.
She had to choose between the two of them.”

“Oh?” Kat raised an eyebrow, her heart
pounding. “And which did she choose?”

Deep gave her a level look. “Both.”

“I want to hear more about your home world.
More about Earth.” The words were demanding but his tone was soft
and his blazing red-on-black eyes were almost gentle.

Lauren was so relieved to see him again, to
hear his deep voice, that she didn’t care what he asked her.
As
long as he talks to me. As long as he comes back.

For a time the tasteless nutra-wafers had
been brought to her by strange, emotionless creatures that scared
her. They had flesh and gray skin like Xairn’s but they reminded
her of robots out of a science fiction movie. Their eyes were
dead—both the white and the iris were bottomless black pits and
when she looked into them, she saw nothing. Nothing at all.

Pushing away the awful memory, she
concentrated on the man in front of her. “What do you want to
know?”

“Tell me about your life, your…family.” He
frowned. “Is that the correct word for the people you live
with?”

“Well I don’t live with anyone right now,”
Lauren said cautiously. “And I don’t have a whole lot of
family—really it’s just me and my mom. But we’re very close.”

“You…love her?” He said “love” as though it
was a word in a foreign language that he didn’t fully understand.
It probably is,
Lauren told herself.
I’m lucky he speaks
English at all.

“Yes,” she said softly. “Yes, I love her
very,
very
much.”

“And she feels the same for you?” He was
leaning forward now, a look in his strange red-on-black eyes that
was hard to define. Hunger? Need? Longing?

“My mom loves me more than anything else in
the world,” Lauren said with unshakable certainty. “She would die
for me without thinking twice.”
And she’s probably dying a
little every day right now, wondering where I am.

She could imagine her mother’s frantic,
worried face, could picture the way she was probably searching
everywhere to find Lauren. Everywhere but in the right place.
Because how could she ever suspect what had happened?
Oh Mom, I
miss you so much!
A sudden longing to see her mother, to hear
her familiar soft voice and know that everything was okay, came
over Lauren so strongly that tears rose in her eyes.

“If she has so much love for you, why are
you crying?” He still pronounced “love” like a foreign word but the
look he was giving her was one almost of concern.

“Because I
miss
her. And I know she’s
probably looking
everywhere
for me. She’s probably frantic
with worry and I…I’ll probably never see her again. ”

“It would hurt you that much to be forever
separated from her?” He sounded curious.

“Of course it would!” Lauren blotted her
eyes on his cloak and took a deep breath, trying to slow the tears.
She knew from past experience that crying was a sure way to drive
any man away and she wanted Xairn to stay. “I’m sorry, but wouldn’t
you
be upset if you were never going to see your father
again? I mean, I know he’s really scary and weird but he’s still
your dad. Right?”

Xairn looked away. “I feel nothing for him.
And he feels nothing for me.”

“Oh.” Lauren bit her lip, uncertain what to
say. “I…I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” He shook his head. “It has
always been so.”

“But don’t you…” Lauren hesitated, uncertain
of how to phrase her question, afraid she might drive him away
again. “Haven’t you ever had anyone love you? Or had anyone to
love?” she asked at last.

“Once.” His deep voice was remote. “It
doesn’t matter now.”

“It
does
matter,” Lauren said
earnestly. “My mom always says that everyone just needs three
things to be happy—something to do, something to look forward to,
and someone to love.”

He laughed tonelessly. “Why would you think
that happiness is a priority aboard the Fathership?”

“I guess it’s not.” Lauren twisted her
fingers together. “But don’t you
want
to be happy?”

“I don’t
want
anything.” His voice
sounded dead. “I merely exist.”

Lauren wanted to point out that “merely
existing” was no way to live but she sensed this was no time to
trade philosophy with him.
If I want to keep him with me, I have
to keep him interested.
It made her think of Scheherazade, the
heroine from
The Arabian Nights,
which she’d read as a
little girl
.
Scheherazade had been married to a king who
took a new wife every morning and killed her every night. But she
told the king stories every night, stories that led into other
stories and kept him too interested to kill her.

I have to be like that,
Lauren told
herself.
I have to keep him interested.

She cleared her throat and smiled at Xairn.
“Let me tell you something else about Earth. Have you ever heard of
ice cream?”

Xairn listened to her speak, her soft,
harmonious voice rising and falling as she told him about her
world. She talked on and on, about the strange foods the humans ate
and the soft white sands and warm waters of the beaches in the
place where she lived. She talked about entertainments called
movies and plays and explained that they read stories called
“books” for pleasure.

The concept was foreign to Xairn. He knew
how to read in two hundred different languages and dialects,
including her own English, but the idea of reading something for
anything other than information was a novelty to him.

Lauren answered his questions about books
and then spoke about her childhood, growing up alone with only her
mother for company. Much as Xain had had only his

father—the AllFather. But it soon became
clear that their childhoods had nothing else in common. She spoke
with love and tenderness about her mother, talked about how she had
taken care of Lauren even in difficult circumstances. As far as he
could tell there had been discipline, but nothing like the kind of
punishments the AllFather could devise. Lauren had never known
cruelty or hatred from the one who was supposed to love and care
for her.

Xairn wondered why his heart throbbed while
he listened. It was a weakness, he supposed—the same weakness that
had caused him to come see her again, even though he had sworn not
to. But still, he lingered and he listened, unable to pull himself
away.

At last he realized the time. It was
late—much later than he’d intended to stay. Already he had missed
some crucial tasks for which he would doubtless be punished.

“I have to go.” He rose as he spoke and her
eyes—lovely and golden in her light brown face—followed his
movements.

“Do you have to?” Her voice was soft and
pleading. “Can’t you stay a little while longer?”

Xairn shook his head. “I’ve already
neglected several of my duties too long. I will probably be
whipped—my father will order it done.”

“Oh no!” Lauren put a slim hand to her
mouth. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to get you into trouble.”

Xairn shrugged. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Yes, it does,” she insisted. “You’ll hate
me for it when you’re being punished. And then you’ll never want to
come see me again.”

“That’s not true.” Not knowing why he did
it, Xairn stooped and placed a hand awkwardly over hers. “I take
responsibility for my own actions,” he said softly. “I wanted to
stay with you and so I stayed. I don’t hate you.”

She looked up at him with uncertainty and
fear in her eyes and suddenly he saw how he must look to her. He
was huge, hulking—monstrous. His shoulders were fully twice as
broad as hers and his skin, which had seemed normal to him until
now, was rough and discolored next to her smooth, creamy brown. And
his eyes…his eyes were the worst of all. He had studied some Earth
mythology and he knew what they must look like to her.
A
demon—isn’t that the word? She must think I have a demon’s
eyes.

“You’re not a demon,” she said softly and he
realized he must have spoken the words aloud. “I don’t think that
about you, Xairn.”

The momentary lapse startled and troubled
him. “That’s because you don’t know me,” he said roughly. He stood
abruptly. “I must go.”

“Will…will you come back?” She looked up at
him, hope shining in her amber eyes. “Please, you’re the only one I
have to talk to. Please don’t leave me alone again with those…those
things.”

“They are Scourge, the same as me,” he said,
frowning. “They’re simply grown in the artificial wombs we call
vats.”

“
No.”
Lauren shook her head. “They’re
not the same as you. They’re nothing like you. I can see it in
their eyes—they’re empty inside. Soulless.”

“So am I.”

“No,” Lauren said again, more softly this
time. “You’re not soulless, Xairn. You’re just locked up tight
inside. So tight even
you
don’t know how to find the
key.”

“I have no time for your Earth metaphors,”
he said harshly. “I must go.”

“Go on, then.” She looked at him
appealingly. “But please…please come back.”

“I make no promises,” he said. The
disappointment in her eyes made him add, “But I will try.”

“Thank you,” she said simply. “I’ll look
forward to our next conversation. Maybe…maybe you can tell me
something about
your
life.”

“I could.” Xairn laughed humorlessly. “But I
doubt you’d wish to hear it. I have no pretty little stories of
when I was young, Lauren. The only tales I could tell you—” He
broke off, shaking his head.

“What?” she urged softly.

“Nothing.” He turned for the door. “I’ll
come back again if I’m able.”

“I’ll look forward to it.”

And though he knew she was only acting out
of self preservation, he could have sworn that she actually meant
it.

“Tell me again what we have to do,” Kat
said, wishing she felt a little less weak and nervous. She’d spent
the night cuddled between Lock and Deep, in a nice, nonsexual way.
The contact should have boosted her energy, but somehow she still
felt off her game. At least the headache hadn’t come back,
though—she didn’t think she could stand to go through what they
were about to do with that rusty iron spike in her brain.

They had spent the day being feasted and
stared at by the natives. Then, as evening drew near, all of them
had bathed separately in the sacred golden waters of the holy
stream in preparation for the night. Kat had been avoiding the
thought of the coming ceremony, but she couldn’t help thinking of
it now as she arranged the ceremonial outfit she’d been given to
wear.

Her native haute couture appeared to be made
mostly of leaves and flowers and was tied on by vines. It made her
feel like Jane from the old Tarzan movies and not in a good way.
She was nervous because she didn’t have on anything under it. So
any strong breeze was likely to equal a wardrobe malfunction of
epic proportions.

Deep and Lock had on leafy loincloth things
too, but on
them
the leaf look was somehow hot. Their broad,
sculpted chests and long, muscular legs seemed made to be exposed.
They looked like Greek gods that had come to life right down to the
strategically placed fig leaves. Of course, pretty soon she was
going to be looking under those fig leaves.
Don’t kid yourself,
Kat—you’re going to be dong more than looking,
whispered a
little voice in her head. Kat tried to push it away but it wouldn’t
go. She couldn’t quite believe what she was about to do, but it
seemed to be their only way out, so she had no choice.

“We’ll be reenacting the courtship of the
sun and the moons,” Lock said, interrupting her nervous musings. He
patted her shoulder comfortingly. “The chief will be reciting the
legend in their common speech so hopefully your convo-pillar will
be able to translate. Just do exactly as the chief says and
everything will be all right.”

“Yes, but what exactly is the chief going to
say?” Kat asked, vainly trying to rearrange her leaves for maximum
coverage.
God, this is ridiculous!
I feel like I’m
wearing a salad—I’d get more coverage from a g-string
bikini.