Falling for Kindred Claus Page 20

  Steeling herself for whatever effects might come, she downed the drink and waited.

  The next thing she knew, she was flooded with joy—an emotion so pure and soaring she felt like a bird taking wing high over the ocean. It was wonderful—incredible.

  “I’ve never been this happy before,” she told Asher, whose eyes were also shining with the pure emotion. “Not even on my wedding day, back when I thought Cameron was a good guy. I’m just so filled with joy.”

  “I am too,” he murmured. “And sharing it with you makes it all the better.” He held her hands and they looked into each other’s eyes. For a moment, Lisa almost felt like the intense emotion was jumping back and forth between them—an emotion so pure it was almost hard to stand and yet also so wonderful it was impossible not to want it to last forever.

  Yet, as the other emotions had passed, so did the joy. Lisa sighed when the last of the incredible feeling finally faded.

  “Oh,” she said sadly. “It’s gone.”

  “Not completely,” Asher said softly. “Because we shared it together—a bit of it lingers in each of us.”

  Lisa smiled. “I think you’re right, Asher. I’m glad we had that experience together. From now until the end of my life when I think about the moment I was most happy, I’m going to think of you.”

  “I will think the same,” he said softly, looking into her eyes. For a moment, Lisa felt like she couldn’t look away—didn’t want to look away.

  And then the high priest was calling on them to lift the next glass, which was filled with burnt orange liquid that looked like melted crayons.

  “Taste the anger a Potentate feels when our nation is threatened!” he declared and downed the burnt orange shot.

  Feeling apprehensive, Lisa downed her shot as well while everyone at the table did the same. There was a moment of silence—and then a babble of angry voices filled the air.

  “I hate him!” Lisa heard herself saying passionately. “That bastard, Cameron—he hurt me! He ruined my life! Now I live on the run with no home to go back to, afraid he’s going to track me down at any minute. I shouldn’t have to live that way—he’s an asshole!”

  “I hate him too.” Asher’s voice was low and dangerous and his eyes were flaring red. “If I ever meet him, I’ll kill him for hurting you,” he swore. “He’s dead, Lisa—anyone who hurts you is dead.”

  He turned his eyes across the table to Ambassador Ba’deal at this point but even through the all-consuming rage that filled her, Lisa could see that Ba’deal wasn’t staring back at Asher. Instead, his eyes were fixed on the Old and New Potentates and there was such hatred on his twisted, purple face and his three red eyes that she almost felt afraid again.

  My God—he looks like he wants to kill them! she thought. What did they ever do to him?

  Maybe it was just because the Northern and Southern continents had been at odds for so long, she speculated. Or maybe Ba’deal was a misogynist who couldn’t stand the idea of a female ruler—he seemed like the type.

  As she had that thought, she realized the anger was fading. And a good thing too—if it had lasted much longer, some fights might have broken out. As it was, she saw several pairs of chewchies rolling over, screeching and clawing at each other as though they were able to express the anger better than their owners.

  But why would they feel the same thing their owners feel? she wondered as she watched the Chorkays separating their angry pets. How is that possible?

  “Come here, now Listie—come back to me!” the lady beside her was saying as she pulled her chewchie away from another. “You know you mustn’t fight, no matter how angry I get.”

  “Excuse me,” Lisa murmured to her. “I hope I’m not offending you, but can I ask how it is your chewchie knows how you feel? Are you that strongly connected?”

  “Oh, but of course!” the woman exclaimed as her chewchie climbed into her arms and she stroked its disheveled purple fur lovingly. “For a chewchie is an extension of one’s self. They act out and amplify emotions—which enables us, as Chorkays, to keep our calm outer demeanor. And that is only one of the ways in which they help us.”

  “I knew they were more than pets!” Lisa exclaimed but the woman gave her an offended look.

  “Pets? You might as well call your own heart a pet!” she exclaimed. “A chewchie is so much more than that—so much more than an outsider like yourself can understand.”

  “Forgive me,” Lisa said humbly. “I didn’t understand the significance of the chewchies in your culture but I am trying to learn.”

  The noblewoman huffed a little but looked slightly mollified. Lisa hoped, at least. And then it was time for the next cup of emotion. As they all raised their glasses filled with deep red liquid, she hoped they would experience a more positive emotion this time.

  “Feel the Potentate’s lust for her consort when it is time for her to do her duty and try to provide another female with the Sacred Blue skin and eyes,” the high priest declared.

  The liquid in this glass tasted slightly spicy and sweet, Lisa thought—though she hadn’t noticed the others having much flavor. It made her cough a little and she couldn’t help feeling uncertain about drinking it. Was the distilled lust going to turn this formal dinner into an orgy?

  It didn’t take long to take effect. Lisa looked at Asher and felt all the heat and desire that had been building between them for the past twenty-four hours suddenly come to a head.

  “Asher…” Her voice was hoarse with need and suddenly she found she was in his lap, straddling him and grinding against him—helpless to control her rampant need.

  “Gods, sweetheart!” he growled and then he was holding her hips and rubbing up against her, thrusting hard against her pussy and Lisa knew that if his trousers and her dress hadn’t been in the way he would have been inside her, filling her…fucking her…making her his.

  “I want you,” she told him between frantic kisses. “I don’t care if it’s unprofessional or not! I want you inside me, now!”

  “I want you too. Gods—I’ve wanted you from the moment I first laid eyes on you—from the moment I got the first two Signs,” he told her. And then he was kissing her again, so passionately that one of his fangs cut her lip, injecting a healthy dose of essence.

  The moment his essence entered her body, Lisa had an immediate orgasm. Gasping, she stiffened in his lap, freezing in place, though she had been in the act of reaching between them to try and unfasten his trousers and get him inside her.

  “Oh God!” she exclaimed, her back arching as Asher pressed up against her. “Oh God, yes—fuck me! I need you to fuck me now!”

  At that moment the urgent lust at last began to fade and Lisa became aware of two things. One was that while plenty of chewchies were copulating on the tables—and in some instances, even on people’s heads—none of the other diners at the table had left their places or gotten out of their seats like she had. And none of them were mauling each other like she and Asher were either.

  The second thing she realized was that every single eye in the place was on her and that the hall had fallen completely silent as everyone watched her hump the big Kindred.

  “Oh my God,” she whispered under her breath, freezing again. “Oh, no!”

  “It’s all right,” Asher murmured in her ear. “Just, er, get off me and sit back in your own place.”

  Feeling mortified beyond words, Lisa did exactly that—though it took longer than it should have because the elaborate dress she was wearing got tangled around her legs and then Asher had to help her get untangled before she could slide back into her own spot at the table.

  At last, however, she was settled again, her cheeks burning with the realization that the entire ceremonial dinner had halted while she got herself untangled and resettled.

  “And that’s what comes of not having a chewchie to contain and act out your emotions,” the noblewoman beside Lisa sniffed. Lisa would have said something back in reply, but honestly she was too e
mbarrassed and couldn’t think of anything to say.

  The high priest cleared his throat.

  “A-hem. Well, now let us go on,” he said, giving her and Asher a warning glare. Clearly they needed to watch themselves in the future. Only how was she supposed to experience such overwhelming emotions and not be affected, Lisa wondered?

  It’s not our fault we don’t have chewchies who can act out our emotions for us so we don’t go nuts when they overload us with these crazy feelings, she thought resentfully.

  “Now, please raise your glasses with me,” the high priest went on, lifting the shot glass filled with pearly gray liquid, “And experience the sadness the New Potentate feels when the Old Potentate passes on to be with Thufar.”

  Lisa had already swallowed the pearly gray shot before he finished talking but she was sorry she had and wished she could spit it out. She had enough sadness in her life, thank you very much. She didn’t need anymore. And…

  And then it hit her—a roiling cloud of misery so dark she wanted to die. It reminded her of the feeling she’d had when she found out her dad had passed away but worse—ten times worse—a hundred times worse. She looked at Asher with tears coursing down her cheeks.

  “I don’t want to leave you,” she admitted, both to herself and to him. “I know we haven’t known each other long, and I don’t know how ready I am for a new relationship, but I don’t want to lose you and never see you again after this is all over.”

  “Lisa…” His voice was hoarse as he drew her to him. “I don’t want you to go. I wish we could be together—that I could bond you to me and keep you safe by my side always.”

  Lisa wept in his arms, pressing close to his broad chest. All around her she could hear the miserable howling of chewchies expressing their owner’s sorrow and overwhelming grief. She was dimly aware that she and Asher were the only ones crying openly—if the slow leak he was experiencing could be considered crying—but somehow she couldn’t make herself care. At least not enough to stop.

  Then, as suddenly as it had fallen over her, the fog of dreadful emotion lifted. Lisa sat up, sniffing and wiping her eyes.

  “Wow, that was…intense,” she said, looking at Asher. His green eyes were red as well.

  “I cannot remember the last time I cried,” he said in a low voice. “Perhaps when my parents died when I was a boy.” He stroked Lisa’s cheek, wiping away the tears that were drying there. “I have never wept over a female before,” he told her. “Never felt such loss as when I contemplated losing you.”

  “Oh, Asher…” she whispered and wished she knew what to say. She reached up to cup his cheek as well but just then the high priest spoke once more.

  “And finally,” he said in his deep, sonorous voice as he lifted the last glass with the pink liquid in it, “Join me in tasting the Potentate’s love for her nation and for all of her subjects.”

  Lisa lifted the glass but to be honest, she barely felt like it would make much difference in how she was feeling. She cared for the big Kindred, she realized now. Cared for him deeply—much more deeply than she could even explain, considering they had known each other such a short time.

  “I love you,” she said, before she even drank the pink shot, which was the color of melted candy hearts. “I know it sounds crazy and we barely know each other but well…I do.”

  And then she drank.

  “Gods, Lisa—I love you too,” Asher murmured. Holding her eyes with his, he was about to drink his own pink shot when something seemed to draw his attention away.

  With a low shout, he suddenly lunged across the table and grabbed for Ambassador Ba’deal—who was holding some kind of weapon in his hand.

  A weapon he was pointing straight at both the Old and New Potentates.

  Thirty-Eight

  It was a molecular disruptor and it was set to blow. Ba’deal held it gripped tightly in his right fist, ready to lob it at the head of the table, where it would no doubt disintegrate both the Old and New Potentates as well as the high priest himself, who was standing there with his mouth open like a surprised fish.

  Asher thanked the Goddess that he hadn’t taken the pink drink yet—that he hadn’t been distracted by emotion when he caught sight of what was happening from the corner of his eye.

  He lunged for the Ambassador.

  “Let it go!” he growled. He grabbed Ba’deal’s wrist and squeezed but the light of religious fervor was in the other male’s eyes and he refused to relinquish the deadly weapon.

  “Death to the Northern heretics!” he shouted, glaring at the Potentates. “Death to all who oppose us!”

  There was no time to fight with him anymore. With a powerful lunge, Asher brought the hand holding the disruptor down to the table and drew his laser knife from an inside pocket. He thumbed it on and the blade came humming to life with a deadly blue light.

  Asher sliced downward—one swift cut—and the laser blade cut through Ba’deal’s wrist as easily as though it was slicing through soft cheese. Grabbing the hand still clutching the disruptor, Asher lobbed it over the screaming male’s shoulder to the far side of the banquet hall which was empty except for some tall columns supporting that side of the roof.

  He tried to toss it between the columns but the disruptor was stronger than he had imagined. It blew in deadly silence, emitting an almost invisible wave of disruption which enveloped the columns on either side, gobbling them up as though a giant, invisible hand had suddenly decided to erase them.

  There was a moment of perfect silence in which Ba’deal could be heard screaming that he would kill them, would kill them all, that the line of Potentates would end now and never be reborn.

  And then the roof began to cave in.

  To Lisa, it was all a blur. She saw Asher reach out and grab Ambassador Ba’deal, heard the other man shout, and then watched with horror as Asher actually cut off his hand. This he lobbed to the other side of the cavernous dining hall and suddenly there was a roar and rubble started crashing down around them.

  The odd thing was, she wasn’t afraid—not at first. She was seeing everything through pink-colored lenses—the haze of the love drink which still surrounded her. So she found she could be amazed and horrified by the big Kindred’s actions and yet love him so completely she knew nothing he could do would end that love.

  It was, she thought, the same kind of unconditional love a mother feels for her child but not quite because her feelings for Asher were also mixed with passion and need. She wanted to take him away somewhere, strip both of them naked, entwine their bodies, stare into each others’ eyes and just be together.

  Which made no sense considering the chaos that was ensuing around them. Chaos she seemed helpless to react to, since she was still incapacitated by the drink.

  Everyone else at the table was too—everyone but Asher who hadn’t drunk his. He grabbed Lisa bodily and threw her across his shoulder before charging to the head of the table and encircling both the Old and New Potentates with his free arm.

  “Your Majesties,” Lisa heard him say, his voice calm despite the roar of falling masonry around them. “This way—we must get out of the banquet hall.”

  Somehow in the blur that followed, he got Lisa and both the Potentates away from the collapsing ceiling and out into the hallway which was filled with guards rushing back and forth and people screaming while their chewchies danced madly and chattered in terror on their heads.

  “Your Majesties, this is a bad area to be in,” Asher said, his voice still low and masterful. “Tell me—is there a secure place we can go where you know you will be safe?”

  The Old Potentate nodded.

  “The Room of Shields,” she murmured. “This way.”

  Still shielding the royal women with his body and right arm and holding Lisa over his shoulder with his left, Asher shepherded them in the way the older Chorkay woman had pointed. Around a corner they went and down a long golden hallway, then into a much smaller, hidden hallway which only opened when they c
ame directly upon it.

  Finally, they came to a recessed door at the end of a narrow passage. The Old Potentate pressed her hand to the center of it and there was a clicking sound as it opened.

  “Wait—I’ll go first,” Asher told them. He put Lisa down and kissed her quickly on the forehead. “Stay with the Potentates,” he told her sternly. Then, weapon drawn, he stepped quickly inside and surveyed the room.

  Lisa shivered as she waited, watching while the Old and New Potentates clutched each other’s hands and their chewchies chattered nervously together. The love drink had finally worn off and what had happened was finally sinking in. All of them had just survived an assassination attempt—one which would surely have killed not just its intended targets, but the entire first half of the dining table as well if Asher hadn’t been so quick to act.

  I should be dead right now, she thought, feeling sick. If Asher hadn’t moved so quickly and decisively, she would have been, she realized.

  It was the first time she had seen him in action and it made her realize what a deadly agent he truly was. The coolly efficient male she saw at work now was nothing like the uncertain guy who had played Santa very badly for her the day before. He was completely different—totally in his element in this moment of deadly stress. It amazed her and frightened her a little bit and she kept remembering watching as he cut off Ba’deal’s hand…

  Guess he won’t be groping anyone else in the near future, whispered a little voice in her head. Asher took care of that problem for him. Talk about a me-too moment. Ha-ha, Lisa, very funny!

  “All right—it’s clear.” Asher’s deep voice broke into her semi-hysterical train of thought and she looked up to see him standing in the doorway, beckoning for all three of them to come into the room.

  “O-okay,” she tried to say but her lips didn’t seem to want to work. So she just followed the Potentates into the room and watched as Asher sealed it behind them.