Instructing the Novice Read online

  She was a goddess and in that moment, all he wanted to do was worship at her feet.

  “Hello, I’m sorry I’m late,” she said in her sweet, soft alto. “You must be Stands Alone, my new assistant.”

  Lone had stood up when she stepped in the room and now, as she reached for his hand, he realized he was staring at her.

  “Um, yes,” he managed to say. “But you can just call me Lone. I—” And then their hands had touched and something very strange had happened to Lone.

  For the first time in his life, he felt himself getting hard because of a woman.

  As the blood rushed to his shaft, making it painfully erect, he at first didn’t understand what was happening. It wasn’t like he hadn’t had erections before—he was a normal, healthy young male—he woke up with a morning hard-on almost every day. But he’d never had much in the way of sexual thoughts or feelings. Sex was an area that was denied to him, because as a loner, he had no twin to help him call and bond a mate.

  In the past, this hadn’t bothered him much because he didn’t let it. He didn’t allow himself to mourn for what he didn’t have—what he could never have. Instead, he threw himself into his work and walled off the part of himself that might have found a female interesting or attractive or sexy.

  Lizabeth Paige tore down that wall with a single touch of her soft little hand.

  He had been glad that they were seated quickly before she could see the bulge in his trousers. The interview that followed was still a blur since he couldn’t take his eyes off her beauty. But he must have said something right, Lone reflected, because she had taken him on as her assistant and he had been with her ever since.

  And wanting her ever since.

  But it wasn’t just her beautiful, full-figured body he craved—he found he was also captivated by her intelligence and wit. She had the quickest mind of anyone he’d ever met and she was a genius in the courtroom. Lone couldn’t help but admire her wisdom and experience and her sense of humor was wry and funny.

  In short, he was completely, hopelessly, helplessly in love with her but there was nothing he could do about it. He had no twin to help him mate her and he was certain Lizabeth wasn’t interested in him in a sexual way. She saw him as a friend and assistant and nothing else.

  When The Great Needing had occurred and the Xi-46 compound had been released into the Mother Ship, it had seemed like one of his fantasies come true. Not that he had ever fantasized about Lizabeth being in pain or fear—he had only wanted to help and protect her. But the fact that the only way to help her had been to palm her full breasts and suck her ripe nipples had been incredible…mind blowing.

  He had wanted to taste her from the moment he met her and the memory of her moans of desire and the way she had clung to him and begged him to suck harder still haunted his dreams.

  But he was paying for his fantasy now, Lone reflected as he let himself into his single suite. Paying in the worst way possible. Lizabeth had cut him almost completely out of her life. She didn’t even want to share Last Meal with him, which had been something they had done almost every night before the needing.

  He wondered if their time together at the Tower of the Higher Mind would bring them together again…or push them further apart. There were apparently some hidden customs and expectations which were barely hinted at in the literature he had read—hinted at but not explained. This troubled Lone—what were they trying to hide? Was it just a closed community protecting itself…or was there more to the Tower of the Higher Mind than was presented in their literature?

  He knew he ought to try and find out but so far all his searches had turned up nothing but dead ends.

  “Maybe I’m being paranoid,” he told Beaker when the little jikem came running up to greet him. “Maybe the Tower is just what it says it is—a place where female professionals can come to gain greater knowledge and understanding of their chosen field.”

  Beaker hooted softly which was his way of speaking. Knowing what his pet wanted, Lone reached down and extended an arm so Beaker could hop aboard. The little jikem had the sleek body of a cat and the pointed face and hands of a raccoon—he could have climbed right up Lone’s trousers with no problem. But he was too well behaved for that.

  “Hi, Beaker,” Lone murmured, stroking the soft little head. “How are you, boy?”

  Beaker hummed as he rubbed his furry head against Lone’s cheek—a sound that had comforted Lone often in the past. Beaker had been given to him when he was only ten cycles old and Beaker was one. Since Lone was thirty now and jikems could live to a ripe old age of forty cycles, his little friend was only middle aged, which meant he was still curious and frisky. Though right now he wasn’t frisky at all—he had apparently sensed Lone’s dejection and just wanted to cheer him up.

  “She won’t forgive me, Beaker,” he told his pet. “I came right out and asked her—I couldn’t help it, fool that I am.”

  He sighed and Beaker crooned mournfully and licked his cheek with a dry little leaf of a tongue.

  “Well—she won’t be able to shut me out so easily once we’re off planet. I hope, anyway,” he told his pet. “Maybe I can win back her trust somehow.”

  But it wasn’t Lizabeth’s trust he wanted—it was her love.

  And how was he ever going to get that when she saw him as no more than a friend and a loner with no brother to help him bond?

  Lone didn’t know, he only knew that his heart yearned for her and he couldn’t stop the ache when he thought of that look in her eyes—the one that said she was sorry, but she couldn’t feel for him the way he felt for her.

  Four

  Lizabeth had never folded space before. She’d heard all about it but actually watching as Lone piloted their long-range shuttle into the red gash in the blackness that the Mother Ship had created was somewhat unnerving.

  “Um…are you sure we’re all right?” she asked, shifting in the passenger seat as the crimson slash got closer and closer to the shuttle’s viewscreen. “I mean, you’re sure this is safe?”

  “Statistically speaking, folding space is safer than flying on one of your Earth airplanes.” Lone kept his eyes forward, concentrating on piloting as he spoke. “That said, there are accidents sometimes.”

  “Accidents?” Lizabeth folded her arms over her swollen breasts protectively and winced. “Ouch,” she muttered, pulling them back again.

  Lone must have seen her expression from the corner of his eye because he frowned.

  “Are you well, Lizabeth?”

  “I’m fine,” she lied. “I just…slept wrong and my back is stiff.”

  “Unless your back is affecting your front, that doesn’t seem to be the problem.” He looked pointedly at her breasts. “Are you certain you’re well?”

  For a moment Lizabeth almost told him the truth. Though she had used the pump for hours last night, it still hadn’t been able to draw all of the nectar out. Her nipples were so red and sore she could barely stand to wear a bra and the nursing pads she’d put in it to keep herself from leaking felt rough and abrasive against the tender flesh.

  But if she told Lone all that, she’d have to admit that she had been lying to him about not having another needing attack. And then he might feel obligated to help her again which would be awkward as hell. No, she couldn’t go there—she just couldn’t.

  “I’ll be fine,” she said firmly. “Anyway, what kind of accidents are we talking about?” she asked, trying to get back to the matter at hand.

  “Ships have been lost once or twice in the past,” Lone admitted. “But only in conjunction with some other extraneous circumstances—like meteor showers or solar flares.” He looked at her more fully. “Seriously, it almost never happens. The only people at risk when folding space are pregnant females.”

  “Pregnant?” She gave a short, forced laugh. “Well, I guess I’m safe then since there’s no way I could be pregnant. I can’t even remember the last time I…”

  She trailed off and cleared her
throat, feeling embarrassed about what she’d almost admitted—that she hadn’t had sex with anyone since her divorce. And since she and Bernard had been in a sexless marriage for the last year before they called it quits, that added up to a pretty long dry spell.

  “Um, so how long will it take us to reach Yonnie Two?” she asked, trying to sound normal.

  “This part of the journey will be very short,” Lone told her. “We’ll leave the space around the Mother Ship and appear in deep orbit around Yonnie Two almost instantaneously. It’s after we’re landed that I’m worried about.”

  “Will it really be that dangerous?” Lizabeth bit her lip.

  “Hopefully not. It’s only a short distance from the landing zone in the Friezen area to the suspended train that will take us through the mountains to the Tower. But don’t worry—if we run into trouble, I’m armed.” Lone patted the sleek, silver blaster which rode on his lean hip confidently.

  “I hope you don’t have to use that thing.” Lizabeth had never liked firearms and she looked askance at the deadly little weapon.

  “I will if I have to.” Lone looked at her directly. “I won’t let anything happen to you, Lizabeth. I’ll protect you with my life,” he said quietly.

  For a moment her mouth was almost too dry to speak.

  “Thank you,” she managed at last. “But last time I looked that isn’t in your job description. You’re my assistant, not my bodyguard.”

  “I am the one who told you about the Tower of the Higher Mind and brought you here, which means you’re under my protection,” Lone said. “I take that very seriously.”

  In a human male she might have thought his attitude was sexist but Lizabeth had been working with the Kindred long enough to understand their feelings of extreme protectiveness towards women. Lone was reassuring her that he would do anything he had to in order to keep her safe. She appreciated that.

  “Thank you, Lone,” she said, matching his serious tone. “I’m glad you’re with me. You’re right—it would have been stupid to come alone.”

  “I would never call you that,” he protested. “Although sometimes you are a little too—what’s the Earth word? Oh—a little too ballsy for your own good.”

  Lizabeth laughed. “Thanks. That’s the nicest way anyone’s ever called me a ball-busting bitch before.”

  “You’re not that either,” Lone said, frowning. “What would give you that view of yourself?”

  “Some of the human males I worked with, mostly,” Lizabeth said dryly. “Most of them don’t care for assertive women.”

  Lone shook his head.

  “Sometimes I feel like I could live near Earth and work with humans a thousand years and never truly understand your people. Why are human males so threatened by strong females?”

  Lizabeth laughed. “If I knew that, I’d quit being a lawyer and become the richest psychologist in the world.” She shook her head. They just are. And I’ll tell you something else—not many human males that I know would be content to be my assistant for as long as you have. Most of them would have wanted to move on to bigger and better things by now—and they wouldn’t be interested in going on any kind of a trip where they had to act like my servant or student or whatever it is you’re supposed to be either.”

  “I’ll be your Novice, Mistress,” Lone rumbled, smiling a little. “And why should it be a problem to pose as a student? One of the reasons I applied to be your assistant in the first place was to learn from you.”

  “Thank you Lone, that’s sweet.” Lizabeth smiled at him. “And I want you to know I appreciate your professionalism and your attitude. It’s always a pleasure to work with you.”

  She realized as she was speaking how cold and distant the words sounded. It was like she was giving him a yearly performance review or something. What was wrong with her? Why was she so stiff and formal?

  Because I can’t be anything else, she told herself grimly. I have to keep him at an arm’s length or we’ll get too close again…way too close. Being near the big Kindred—being too close to him anyway—threatened to bring the needing on. And she didn’t want him to find out she was in need and feel like he had to offer to help her.

  What must that have been like for him, having to suck her nipples and swallow the strange, sweet nectar which had filled her breasts so suddenly? He hadn’t seemed upset or disgusted at the time but then, Lone was like that—he was an easy-going guy who almost never complained. Lizabeth was certain he would never tell her that he minded helping her out in such a delicate, intimate situation even if he was cringing inside. And just thinking about that made her cringe inside herself.

  No, it was better to keep her distance—keep things professional between them. She would act as she had when they first started working together and they were being careful around each other—feeling each other out. Part of her knew it would hurt to go back to the beginning like that but there was nothing else she could reasonably do.

  “Folding space now,” Lone said, pulling her out of her reverie. And then the ship entered the gaping crimson wound in the blackness and was swallowed up.

  For just an instant Lizabeth felt like she was being pulled in every direction at once. Then, to her relief, the strange taffy-like sensation ended and they were through to the other side.

  A new planet appeared on the shuttle’s viewscreen—a gray and white ball spinning in space that was the color of dirty snow.

  “That’s it?” she asked a little breathlessly. “That’s Yonnie Two?”

  “That’s our destination,” Lone said. “I’ll put in a call to the Tower now and let them know we’re in orbit so they can send an escort.”

  He tapped in a series of numbers and codes into the control panel and after a moment, a male face appeared on the viewscreen.

  “Yes?” The male was heavily bearded and scowling fiercely. “Who are you and what do you want?”

  “I am Stands Alone, a Kindred warrior and Novice to Councilor Lizabeth Paige who is coming to study with your Mistress of Law,” Lone answered. “We were told by the Mistress Superior, Lady Verlandah, to call when we were in orbit around Yonnie Two so that she could send an escort to meet us by the train.”

  The scowling face relaxed somewhat.

  “Oh, it’s you. Yes, my Lady told me you were coming. I am Karx, Novice to Wise one Verlandah and also the captain of her guard.”

  Lone raised his eyebrows.

  “You have need of guards there? I thought the Tower was high in the Yonnite mountains, secure from any possible attack by hostiles.”

  Karx scowled again.

  “You can never be too careful. And I’m sure you’ll agree, safeguarding your lady’s well-being is something that can’t be left to chance.”

  “That’s true,” Lone agreed seriously.

  “Speaking of that—be damn careful when you land. The Friezens are having their summer festival and looking for the perfect female to serve as the Snow Queen.” His dark eyes flickered from Lone to Lizabeth appraisingly. “Unfortunately, your lady would be exactly their ideal. Keep her close to you and if possible, disguise her as male.”

  “We have some heavy furs to wear for warmth,” Lone said doubtfully. “But I don’t know if any of them can disguise my Lady’s diminutive size and make her look anything but feminine.”

  Lizabeth bit her lip and had to hold back a self-deprecating laugh at Lone’s assessment of her. Only a nearly-seven-foot-tall Kindred would describe her full-figured frame as “diminutive.”

  “Just do your best,” was the rough reply. “Follow the yellow arrows when you land. I and a company of guards will be coming to meet you at the train station—you won’t be able to board without us. Then we’ll take you straight up to the Tower where you can be fitted for your robes and swear your oath.”

  Lizabeth wanted to ask what oath and find out which of them was supposed to swear it but the viewscreen flickered off abruptly. Karx’s bearded face was replaced by the grayish-white curve of Yonnie Two�
��now much closer than it had been before.

  “Well, he seems like an abrupt kind of guy,” Lizabeth remarked, frowning.

  “I think he just takes his job seriously,” Lone said. “I can’t say that I blame him, knowing what I do of the Friezens.”

  “Do…do you really think they’ll bother us?” Lizabeth’s stomach felt cold.

  “Not if they know what’s good for them.” Lone’s voice sounded so deep and grim she had to look at him. There was a cold look on his pale gray eyes she’d never seen there before.

  He’s getting ready to protect me, she thought, as they spiraled downward towards the frozen surface of the planet below. He really will kill anyone who tries to hurt me.

  The thought sent a shiver down her spine and reminded her that no matter what their chosen profession, all Kindred were warriors first and foremost. All of them spent time in the armed forces of the Mother Ship and all had battle and combat experience.

  Funny, she had never thought of Lone like that before. As big and muscular as he was, he was just her assistant who was also an incredible cook and could always make her laugh. Now Lizabeth wondered if she was about to see another side of him. She didn’t know how she felt about that but as they landed in the clearly marked docking area, she felt another shiver go down her spine at the grim, determined look on Lone’s handsome features.

  Oh please, she thought uneasily. Let us not have any trouble. Let us get to the train and the Tower without any problems. Please!

  Five

  Lone checked the settings on his blaster for the third time as he looked at Lizabeth. Was she covered up enough?

  “Lizabeth, perhaps you’d better put on a few more of the heat-saving furs,” he said, frowning.

  “Are you kidding?” she exclaimed. “Just look at me! I’m covered head to foot in these things and I’m already baking.”