Falling for Kindred Claus Page 5

Lisa looked like she didn’t know what to say but at that moment, Asher saw someone signaling him from the corner of his eye.

  Turning his head, he saw a Blood Kindred warrior wearing a pair of fake plush reindeer antlers on his head. He flashed Asher a covert hand signal and gave him a jerk of the head.

  Understanding suddenly flooded Asher—Lisa was not his contact and playing Santa had never been his mission! She had been waiting for a Kindred to play the roll and since she was dressed in holiday garb, he had mistaken her for his contact and she had mistaken him for the Kindred she was anticipating.

  It was all one big misunderstanding and now his real contact was gesturing at him.

  “Excuse me,” Asher said in a low voice to Lisa, who was still talking rapidly to the blonde Earth female who had introduced herself as “Liv.”

  He started to walk away, though he was strangely reluctant to leave her, when she saw what he was doing and broke off speaking to the other woman.

  “Wait a minute,” she exclaimed, catching him by the elbow. “Where do you think you’re going? You’ve still got the suit on and everything! And I don’t know who you really are or why you played Santa when you weren’t supposed to.”

  It was true—he did still have the urine-stained Santa outfit on, Asher noted with some disgust. But as for explanations, they would have to wait.

  “I’ll be back in a moment to change,” he promised. “Don’t worry,” he added when she started to protest again, “I have no wish to wear this suit any longer than I already have. I promise not to take it—I only need a moment.”

  Then he walked swiftly away, going to meet his real contact and find out what the true mission was.

  Eight

  “Well, we’re really sorry about the misunderstanding,” Liv said again, apologetically. “But I guess it was a good thing another Kindred happened to come along to fill in for Baird, here.” She patted her Beast Kindred husband’s muscular arm and smiled.

  “Yes, exactly,” Lisa murmured, not sure what else to say. She still didn’t know who “Kindred Claus” had been, though he had introduced himself as Commander Asher and said he was in “the Espionage Corps.” So did that mean he was some kind of spy? No wonder he had kept talking about his “mission” and asking if she was his contact—she had been misunderstanding him the whole time!

  Liv and Baird at last took their leave after apologizing one last time. Baird had offered to stay for the final hour the mall was open and try to get some of the Santa pictures done but there was no point, in Lisa’s opinion. For one thing, Commander Asher had wandered off still wearing the suit and for another, it needed to be dry cleaned before anyone else could wear it. Plus, Gary had left for the night, so there wasn’t any photographer to take the pictures, even if all the kids and parents were to magically reappear.

  The night was a near total loss and there was nothing she could do to salvage it now.

  Where was Commander Asher, anyway? Lisa looked around, trying to spot him. She needed to get the Santa suit from him. The mall manager, Bob Adley, had told her they were terribly expensive so if he had walked off with it…

  As though thinking of the mall manager had summoned him, her cell phone suddenly began vibrating. Lisa pulled it out of the pocket in the side of her green elf dress and groaned silently.

  It was Bob Adley. Could things any worse?

  “What were you doing over there and why are you dressed in that ridiculous costume?” his contact demanded, when Asher finally got over to him. His nose wrinkled and he took a step back. “And why do you smell like human urine?”

  “It’s a long story,” Asher growled. “Are you my contact and were you sent by Commander Drugair?” This time he was taking no chances.

  “Yes and yes.” The other warrior nodded.

  “Good—then give me the details quickly,” Asher said brusquely. “I need to get out of these stained garments as soon as possible.”

  “Here you are.” The other Kindred nodded and handed him an encrypted hand-slide.

  The moment the small, clear square touched the center of Asher’s palm, the slide recognized him and began to grow into a larger rectangle, about the size of a cell phone. On it, images began to play.

  Asher frowned as he looked at the pictures of humanoids with pale blue skin and a fringe of furry green growth running in a narrow strip from their foreheads all the way down their spines.

  “These are the Chorkays,” Asher’s contact told him in a low voice. “They are a peaceful people on the far side of the galaxy who have developed a unique method of long-range communication the Kindred High Council thinks would be extremely useful. This method has ten times the range of a Think-me,” he went on, referencing the telepathic communication device the Kindred often used. “In fact, its range even exceeds that of the mental link between bonded couples.”

  “Impressive,” Asher said and meant it.

  His contact nodded.

  “It is. And the High Council wants you to check it out—as a diplomatic envoy to the Chorkays. You will be attending their banquet for the coronation of their new Potentate tomorrow night.”

  “Excellent.” Asher nodded in satisfaction and relief. This kind of assignment was much more his style. He preferred missions where he was an envoy rather than an assassin. But at this point, he wouldn’t have minded, even if he had been ordered to perform an assassination—anything was better than the two hours of hell he had just been through!

  “You seem inordinately pleased,” his contact observed. “It’s a very dull assignment.”

  “Dull will be fine,” Asher assured him. “Anything is better than playing Satan Claus for the human children.”

  “Who?” the contact asked, frowning. “Are you speaking of Santa Claus the fictitious entity who brings presents on Christmas Eve? Is that why you’re dressed like that?” He nodded at the urine stained red fur suit.

  “Yes,” Asher said shortly. He had no wish to go into the misunderstanding that had led to him playing the mythical Earth male who left gifts and carbon lumps for two awful hours. He tapped the slide, shrinking it back down to the size of a coin, and nodded at his contact. “If that’s all, I’ll be on my way.”

  “Unfortunately, that is not all,” the contact said, frowning.

  “Oh? I’m to play emissary to the Chorkays on their home planet of Helios Beta and attend the crowning of their new Potentate tomorrow night. Am I missing something?” Asher asked.

  “Yes, and unfortunately it’s something that only recently came to light.” The Blood Kindred frowned. “The Chorkays live in groups of two or more and are always in a state of emotional symbiosis with their partners. Meaning, they share emotions with their mate or mates on a minute-by-minute basis.”

  “That sounds like a Kindred’s bond with his bride,” Asher remarked. “What of it?”

  “Well, they’re going to expect you to have someone with you to ‘share’ your emotions with or they won’t trust you,” his contact said.

  “But I’m not mated,” Asher said blankly. He didn’t add that he couldn’t be mated because of his Tangala DNA—it didn’t signify here.

  “I know. Almost no one in the Espionage Corps is,” the other male said. “With the exception of Commander Drugair, but since he and his mate are attempting to conceive a child, it isn’t safe for her to go with him and fold space.”

  “This is a problem,” Asher said, frowning. The Espionage Corps was made up of males only—not because the Kindred didn’t think females would make good agents but because they themselves were 95% male and it had simply worked out that way.

  “It is,” his contact acknowledged. “To my understanding, there aren’t many unmated females on the Mother Ship right now and certainly none who are prepared to go on diplomatic missions. I suppose you might pretend to have recently lost your mate and give that for an excuse as to why you have no one to share emotions with at the Chorkay banquet.”

  “I suppose so,” Asher said unhappily. H
e didn’t like going into a strange situation and not following the local customs. But his contact was right—what could he do if there were no females available who could be trusted on an important diplomatic mission?

  “Well—that’s all there is.” The contact nodded at him and took off the pretend reindeer antlers he’d been wearing. “Good luck on your mission—Go with the Goddess, Brother.”

  “Thank you. And you,” Asher said, nodding.

  There was nothing to do now but get out of the stained suit and go back to his ship to get ready for the mission.

  But when he got back to the Santa’s Village compound, he was just in time to see the curvy Earth girl, Lisa, taking the small communications device the humans called a “cell phone” from her ear. Her big blue eyes were suspiciously bright and her pretty mouth was trembling.

  Asher felt his heart clench—it looked like she had been crying and he wanted to know why.

  Nine

  “I don’t want to hear any more excuses!” the mall manager shouted in Lisa’s ear. “You screwed up, letting the wrong Kindred play Santa, and it’s already all over social media. It’s a public relations nightmare!”

  “But how was I supposed to know he was the wrong Kindred?” Lisa asked, wincing at the ringing in her ear—Bob Adley was loud when he was upset—which seemed to be most of the time.

  “You should have known!” her boss thundered. “And from now on, you don’t have to worry about it anymore. You’re fired!”

  “What? No!” Lisa exclaimed. “Please, Mr. Adley, I need this job to make my rent! You can’t just—”

  “Oh yes I can,” Adley growled. “Now pack up your things and get while the getting is good.”

  Lisa lifted her chin, though she knew the mall manager couldn’t see her.

  “Fine,” she said, trying to keep her voice cold and dry. “I’ll leave my elf costume and the Santa suit at your office. They’re going to need dry cleaning—especially the Santa Suit,” she added dryly.

  Then she hung up before she said a lot of other things—most of them extremely rude and likely to keep her from getting a good reference when she started looking for another job, once her ex-boss cooled down. Which was probably going to be tomorrow.

  “Oh, who am I kidding?” she muttered angrily to herself. “He’s never going to give me a good reference. I should have just gone ahead and said what I wanted to.”

  She looked at her phone, thinking of calling him back and trying to explain again what had happened, when she noticed that she had a voice mail. Lisa frowned—that was strange. Before running away from Palatka, she’d gotten rid of her cell phone and anything that might be traceable—her current cell was a disposable burner phone. She didn’t want to take a chance on Cameron finding her if he decided to go looking—which she fervently hoped he hadn’t.

  She had bought a burner phone once she got to Tampa and the only person she had called was her mom—just to let her know she was okay. Her mom, unfortunately, had been three sheets to the wind at the time and Lisa wasn’t even sure she’d gotten the message. Honestly, she didn’t know why she tried—it wasn’t like her mom and stepfather really cared what happened to her. At least not while they were drunk, which was most of the time.

  Well, maybe it was a wrong number. Cautiously, she brought the phone to her ear to listen.

  What she heard made her blood run cold.

  “Hello, Dearest,” a horribly familiar voice said in her ear. “It took me a long time but I finally found you. Did you really think that a little country mouse like you could hide in the big city and escape my notice?”

  It was Cameron, his cold, polite voice horribly calm and rational—which was exactly how he got when he was drinking, right before the rage set in. Hearing her abusive husband’s voice when she’d believed he had given up hunting for her made Lisa feel like an iron fist was squeezing her lungs—she literally couldn’t get enough air.

  She wanted to rip the phone away from her ear and throw it as far away as she could—but she knew it wouldn’t help. And anyway, she felt frozen, unable to move a bit as Cameron’s voice continued in her ear.

  “I know you’re in Miami,” he said and suddenly Lisa could breathe again. Miami was far south of Tampa. Cameron had overshot the mark considerably. But his next words made it clear she couldn’t relax yet—not nearly.

  “I’m on your trail,” he went on. “And I’ll find you soon—maybe even just in time for Christmas. Wouldn’t that be nice, Dearest? Spending Christmas Eve together with all our little traditions? Remember last Christmas Eve?”

  Lisa certainly did remember it. Cameron promised her—for the umpteenth time—that he would stop drinking. And he had—he hadn’t touched a drop for the entire month of December. Lisa had even begun to hope that this time his promise would stick.

  But then he’d taken just a sip of eggnog at a neighbors Christmas party.

  The sweet drink with just a hint of rum had been enough to set him off. He’d had a glass of champagne after that and then a cocktail. Soon he had graduated to Scotch—his drink of choice—and she had ended the night hiding under the bed while he screamed and shouted at her and pounded on the bedroom door, which she had locked in a desperate attempt to get away from him.

  He finally broke in, Lisa remembered, feeling the visceral twist of fear in her gut at the awful memory. Broke in and dragged me out and…

  But she didn’t want to think about it anymore. Didn’t want to remember how bad things had gotten.

  One thing was clear, she couldn’t stay here anymore. It didn’t matter that she’d just lost her job—she needed to get her things together and leave. Not that she had much—just some clothes and some pictures and enough cash to hopefully get another bus ticket.

  Actually, the only thing of value she owned was an old picture of her and her dad at her eighth-grade spelling bee and his class ring. It was pretty much the only picture she had left of her father, since her mother had burned everything she could get hold of—including his clothes and any pictures of him—in a drunken rage the night he had left her.

  “I’m sorry, sweetpea,” her dad had said, when he explained why he couldn’t stay anymore. “But your mom and I just don’t see eye-to-eye anymore. I wish I could take you with me.”

  But her mother hadn’t allowed that, of course. Even though her dad had gone to court to fight for her, her mom and cleaned up for once and spun a sob story about how she was the responsible parent and Lisa’s father had abandoned her. The judge had awarded her full custody and Lisa had barely gotten to see her dad after that, though he always sent her birthday cards and Christmas presents he could probably ill-afford. He had died in a car accident, only a month after Lisa had graduated high school and his loss still hurt her.

  I have to go back for Dad’s picture and ring, she thought to herself. I’ll just run in, grab that and the cash and get out again. Surely that will be safe enough…

  “Excuse me, Lisa—are you all right?”

  She whirled around to see Kindred Claus standing there—no, Asher, he’d said his name was Asher, she remembered. He was holding the fake beard and the Santa Clause hat in one hand and looked at her with a worried expression.

  “Oh, hi.” She smiled brightly—or tried to. “Of course I’m all right. Why do you ask?”

  “You’re crying.” He motioned to her face, a look of concern in his deep green eyes.

  “Am I?” Lisa’s hand flew to her face and she realized with embarrassment that he was right. She was standing right here in the middle of the busy mall, crying.

  God, she hadn’t realized how much hearing Cameron’s voice would affect her. Hearing his threats and realized that he hadn’t given up on finding her at all…that he was about to close in. And then thinking of her Dad—the only man who had ever really loved her and taken care of her—gone now. Leaving her all alone to fend for herself…

  “Are you all right?” the big Kindred repeated again. “I hope my, er, performance
didn’t cause you difficulties.”

  “Cause me difficulties? Is that how you put it?” Suddenly she was angry—mostly because it was easier to be angry than scared. “Hell yes it cost me difficulties,” she flared. “I lost my job just now, okay?”

  She wasn’t about to tell him the real reason she was crying—her fear that Cameron was only a step behind her and this life she had built for herself in a whole new city was about to come crashing down around her head. As crappy as her apartment was, at least she wasn’t afraid to go home to it at night after work—afraid she would be shouted at or beaten or even worse.

  Asher looked taken aback at her hostile reply.

  “Forgive me,” he rumbled. “I didn’t mean to—”

  “Forget it.” Lisa swiped at her eyes and went to grab her clothes and her purse out of the Santa’s Workshop building. When she came back, he was still standing there, looking perplexed.

  “If you’ll let me make amends—” he began but Lisa shook her head.

  “Just give me the Santa outfit, please,” she said tightly. “I need to drop it off by the mall manager’s office before I go.”

  He nodded. “Give me a moment.”

  He ducked into the workshop and came back out, wearing his real clothes and holding the stained Santa clothes at an arm’s length.

  “Thank you.” Lisa snatched them from him and wrapped them into a ball along with her own elf costume. She didn’t really care if the outfits got wrinkled or not—after all, they would have to be thoroughly dry cleaned before anyone else could wear them again.

  The big Kindred tried one more time to say something but she cut him off at once. She knew she was being rude but she couldn’t help herself. The fist of fear in her gut just kept growing and all she could think about was grabbing her stuff and getting out of town.

  “Good night,” she said to him and, with a curt nod, walked quickly away.

  Asher watched her go, perplexed and curiously upset. He knew he shouldn’t be worried about her—she was nothing to him, after all. Just a chance acquaintance—a case of mistaken identity that was best forgotten. But he couldn’t help thinking she was in trouble somehow—deeper trouble than just losing her employment, though that was certainly traumatic enough.