Secret Santa Surprise: Book 29 in the Kindred Tales Series

by Evangeline Anderson

  “You did?” Strong raised his eyebrows in surprise.

  “Of course!” Clear exclaimed. “Because I invited her to bake Christmas cookies with us and I told her to wear the gift I got her. Because I thought I had given her this…” He brandished the oven mitt at Strong triumphantly.

  “But instead, she came over in that little red and white nothing of a dress,” Strong growled.

  “This has all just been a big misunderstanding!” Clear said, smiling in apparent relief. “We just have to go to Melanie and explain it to her and then the three of us can be together again.”

  “I’d put a lid on that for a minute if I were you,” Sonja advised. “I think that Melanie is pretty upset and embarrassed right now—she might need some time to cool off.”

  “But if she believes we don’t want her because of her age or her curves—” Clear began.

  “She also believes she behaved inappropriately last night,” Strong pointed out. He frowned. “Though she really didn’t. Although I was surprised at the way she was dressed and how she was acting.”

  “How was she acting?” Sonja asked, raising her eyebrows.

  “She taught us an Earth game called ‘Truth or Dare,’” Clear told her. “It was most…entertaining.”

  “Truth or Dare, huh? Mm-mm-mm.” Sonja shook her head. “No wonder she’s embarrassed! Melanie is not the type of girl to put on a skimpy little outfit and go over to a man’s house to play sex games with him—or them. She’s much more reserved than that.”

  “I always thought so too,” Clear remarked. “But she seemed…very different last night.”

  “She might have been tipsy from the punch,” Strong pointed out.

  “But she only drank a few sips,” Clear objected.

  “Hey, I only drank a few sips and that stuff made me act weird too,” Sonja said, frowning.

  “You weren’t like your usual, lovable self at all, last night,” Sahran agreed, earning himself a frown. “Well, I’m sorry, darling, but you weren’t,” he said.

  “And this morning, we all have headaches and hang-overs,” Strong said, frowning.

  “I don’t,” Sahran said.

  “Did you drink the punch?” Strong asked him.

  The Blood Kindred shook his head.

  “I heard there was Fireflower juice in it—I can’t stand that stuff.”

  “And you feel fine?” Strong asked him.

  Sahran shrugged.

  “I feel the same as always. So yes, I suppose I feel fine.”

  “But all of us who drank the punch feel wretched today,” Clear said slowly. “And the human females who drank it were acting extremely amorous last night.”

  “That’s one way to put it,” Sahran said dryly, which earned him another stern look from Sonja.

  “I’m beginning to think something was in that punch,” Strong growled, frowning. “I wonder if there’s any left that we could analyze?”

  “I doubt it. They probably cleaned up the conference room and washed out the punch bowl by now,” Sonja said.

  “That’s true…” Strong nodded. “But that shouldn’t stop us from getting to the top of this situation, as the humans say.”

  “You mean getting to the bottom of it,” Sonja corrected. “And what are you going to analyze if all the punch is gone?”

  “The blood of all of us who drank it, of course,” Strong said. “If the punch was that strong, there must be some chemical residue left in our systems.” He looked at Sonja. “I’ll especially want to see your blood analysis—if there was something in the punch, it seems to have affected females much more than males. At least, human females.”

  “There were one or two Kindred females there too,” Sonja pointed out. “Some of the priestesses from the Sacred Grove dropped by—I know I saw at least one of them sipping punch.”

  “Goddess…” Clear shook his head. “Aren’t they sworn to chastity?”

  “I have a feeling some of them might have broken their vows last night,” Strong said dryly. He pointed at Sonja and Sahran. “I’m going to the Med Center—you two go round up as many people from the party last night as you can. We need to get to the top—I mean, the bottom of this.”

  “We will.” Sonja nodded grimly and looked at her fiancée. “Honey, you go get a Think-me and start calling everyone you can from the PR and Marketing department. Clear, you call the peeps from accounting.”

  Clear nodded. “I will. What will you do? Are you going to call Melanie?” he asked hopefully.

  Sonja shook her head.

  “Not yet—we need to know what’s going on first. I’m going to go to the Sacred Grove and talk to the priestesses and see if the punch affected the Kindred women like it did us human women.”

  “Good.” Strong nodded. “Send everyone you can to me at the med center for a blood test. Let’s go!”

  17

  “Now what did you say was going on again?” Liv, who was one of the human doctors working at the Med Center, asked Strong.

  “We think the punch from the Christmas party for the Accounting, Marketing and PR, and Administration departments was spiked with some kind of drug,” Strong explained. He was watching the monitor of his chemical analyzer carefully as he spoke. The very first thing he had done when he got into the lab at the back of the Med Center was to draw a sample of his own blood and feed it into the machine.

  “Has someone told Sylvan?” Liv asked, frowning.

  “No one had to—I’ve been seeing patients all morning reporting strange symptoms.” Commander Sylvan, who was the head of the Kindred High Council and also a doctor, came into the lab as well. He looked at Strong. “Do you have anything yet?”

  “Maybe…” Strong frowned at the readout of the analyzer. “There’s definitely something strange going on, but it’s hard to tell because my body has already broken down the chemicals we were given quite a bit.” He shook his head. “I need samples from some of the females who were affected. I don’t think they were able to process whatever it was in the punch as effectively as the males who drank it were.”

  “It’s too bad you can’t just analyze the punch itself,” Liv pointed out. “But it’s probably all gone and the punchbowl cleaned out at this point.”

  “No, it’s not!” Sonja pushed her way into the lab, holding an enormous crystal punchbowl. She put it down on a free space on the counter with a thunk and sighed. “Oof—that was heavy! Luckily, this hasn’t been rinsed out yet. But I have something even better for you.”

  “You do?” Strong was already dipping a syringe into the sticky red residue at the bottom of the large bowl to draw up a sample, but he looked up to see what Sonja was talking about.

  “Yes, I do—I have Patient Zero.” Sonja turned to the doorway where a figure dressed all in white was hovering hesitantly. “Come on in,” she said, beckoning with one hand. “Don’t be shy—nobody here is going to bite you.”

  The person came out of the shadows and Strong saw that she was a priestess from the Sacred Grove. She was wearing a long, white robe belted with a pale green sash—the sign of a novice who had just entered the order.

  Also, though there were emerald green streaks in her long blonde hair, the whites of her eyes were still white rather than green, which meant she hadn’t been a priestess very long. Priestesses who had been in the service of the Goddess for an extended period of time had the signature green-within-green eyes which were impossible to miss.

  “Come on,” Sonja urged her again. She turned to Liv. “I think she’s the first one who drank the punch.” She took the shy priestess’s hand and brought her closer to the human doctor. “Tell her what you told me, Ellilah,” she said encouragingly, pronouncing the girl’s name “Ah-lee-lah.” “Don’t be afraid.”

  “I…I came to the party last night with a few of the other novices, even though we were not supposed to leave the Sacred Grove.” The girl spoke in a soft, trembling voice, looking down at her hands as she talked. “I know this was wrong and I ask fo
rgiveness.”

  “Don’t worry, hon.” Liv put a hand on her arm gently. “Nobody is going to punish you.”

  “The Priestess Superior will when she knows what I have done,” the girl whispered. “Although I feel I have already been punished.”

  “Don’t worry about her. Just tell the nice doctor what happened,” Sonja urged gently.

  “There was a male at the party,” Ellilah whispered. “He was tall and dark—at first I thought he was a Beast Kindred because of his black hair and beard—which was braided at the end. But his eyes were not golden. It was dark and I couldn’t tell what color they were, but they didn’t glow gold. They—” She shook her head. “I…I am getting away from the point, forgive me.”

  “It’s all right,” Liv said gently. “Just tell it however you want to, hon.”

  “The male, he…he had on a red hat trimmed in white fur. With a fur tassel on the end,” the priestess went on.

  “A Santa hat,” Sonja put in.

  “Yes, I suppose.” Ellilah nodded. “I…I saw him putting something in the punch. Something from a small, blue bottle. I shouldn’t have talked to him—shouldn’t have even gone near him—I know that…” She bit her lip. “But…I went up and asked him what he was doing.”

  “And what did he say?” Liv asked, frowning.

  “He said he was…was putting something in the punch that would make everyone feel happy. ‘Especially the females’ he said. And then he made me try some.”

  “You saw him putting something in the punch and then you drank it anyway?” Strong demanded, frowning.

  The little priestess’s cheeks went red and she looked near tears.

  “He didn’t give me a choice. He put the cup to my lips and I…I swallowed.” She shook her head. “But then I started to feel…so strange.”

  “Like nothing mattered and you could do anything you wanted, right?” Sonja demanded.

  Ellilah nodded.

  “Exactly. So when he told me…” She cleared her throat. “When he told me to come into a dark room with him—I think it was a storage closet—in the back of the conference room, I…” She swallowed hard. “I went.”

  “Oh, honey…” Liv’s hand tightened on the girl’s arm. “Did he hurt you? Take advantage of you in any way?”

  “He…” Ellilah’s eyes flickered up to Liv’s and down again. “He asked me if I was…was a virgin.” Her voice sank almost to a whisper. “And I told him that I was. So then he said…he said, ‘Forgive me little virgin, I will not take your chastity, but I must test the punch.’ And then he kissed me and…” Her eyes began to fill with tears. “And touched me.”

  “Oh, honey!” Liv exclaimed again, putting an arm around her. Sonja stroked the little priestess’s other arm gently and murmured,

  “Let it out, girl. It’s okay, it’s all right…”

  “No, it’s not all right!” Ellilah said fiercely. “It’s not all right because I didn’t try to stop him. In fact, I…I wanted him to touch me more! I begged him to!” She choked out the words as though she was spitting out fragments of glass that had cut her throat when she tried to swallow them. “I…I took his hand and tried…tried to put it beneath my robes but he wouldn’t touch me that…that way. He wouldn’t even though I begged. I begged!”

  Her voice broke down into a sob and she buried her face in her hands.

  “Hey, don’t be so hard on yourself! The stuff in the punch affected us all that way,” Sonja assured her. “It’s not that you’re evil or bad or you wanted that man to molest you! It was what he put in the punch that did it.”

  “She’s right,” Strong said, frowning at the readout on his screen. “Look.” He pointed out the results to Sylvan, whose face went grave.

  “Diamethal-Hexadrone,” he said, frowning.

  “What’s that?” Liv asked, looking up from comforting the little priestess.

  “A synthetic aphrodisiac more commonly known by its street name—Desire,” Sylvan said grimly. “It causes females of most humanoid species to lose their inhibitions and give in to suppressed sexual fantasies and desires. But the aftermath is harsh.”

  “How harsh?” Strong’s heart was suddenly in his throat. “What are the after-effects besides the headache and hang-over feeling we’ve all been experiencing?”

  “Depression and low self worth are common after-effects,” Sylvan said, frowning. “Some females have even been known to self-harm in the hours and days after the initial euphoria of the drug wears off.”

  “That’s awful! Can you make an antidote?” Liv asked anxiously.

  Sylvan nodded.

  “It’s possible. We could—”

  “Already working on it,” Strong told them. He was tapping rapidly at the holo-keyboard in front of him. “Commander Sylvan,” he added, looking up at his superior officer. “Permission to bring a dose of this down to Earth as soon as the replicator can start manufacturing it.”

  “Of course, Doctor Strong.” Sylvan nodded. “Why—do you know a female who was at the party last night who needs it?”

  “I do,” Strong said grimly. “I just hope I can get the antidote to her before it’s too late.”

  18

  “You need to stop moping around the house, Melly!” Aunt Marge said, frowning at Melanie. “You look like your last friend just died. Go take a walk outside in the fresh air—you’ll feel better for it.”

  “Okay, Aunt Marge.” Melanie nodded listlessly.

  What she mostly wanted was to just go lie on the couch and watch mindless TV to try and numb her pain, but her aunt wouldn’t hear of that. Her philosophy was that if you were awake, you ought to be up and moving. She didn’t even sit down at mealtimes, other than on special occasions. She preferred to eat over the kitchen sink while her cats gathered around her and begged for scraps from her tuna sandwich.

  At least she’d gotten a chance to take a shower and change her clothes, Melanie thought, as she opened the front door and trudged outside. Riding down to Earth, still wearing the red and white sex-nighty she’d used to seduce Clear and Strong the night before under her wrap dress, had made her feel almost unbearably dirty.

  You feel dirty because you acted dirty—like a dirty slut! whispered a mean little voice in her head. Going over to their suite and flaunting yourself like that—playing Truth and Dare and sucking both their cocks and letting them finger you! What’s wrong with you, Melanie? When did you turn into such a whore?

  Melanie winced and put a hand to her temple. In the hours since she’d woken up, her headache had gotten worse and her self-talk had taken a severe downwards turn. The little voice in her head which provided her inner monologue had turned vicious and it seemed that none of the techniques Melanie’s therapist had taught her could stop the endless flow of negative self-criticism.

  You’re disgusting, the little voice told her. And you’re old. I bet Strong and Clear are laughing at you right now! Making a fool of yourself that way at your age—as if two gorgeous, hot young guys like them would honestly consider having anything to do with you!

  “Stop!” Melanie moaned under her breath. “Please!”

  But the voice was relentless. She barely noticed the lovely trees on either side of her aunt’s street or the chilly nip in the air which was so rare down in Florida. The Christmas lights on the neighbors’ houses, twinkling in the growing twilight, didn’t register either. In fact, she was so blinded by misery, she almost didn’t see the flashy, low-slung sports car in candy apple red that drove up to park on the side of the road beside her.

  It wasn’t until the doors opened and two people got out that Melanie noticed anything. But though her visitors provided a distraction from the mean little voice in her head, it wasn’t a good one. Not at all.

  “Steve,” she said flatly, as her ex-husband came swaggering up to her, his arm around a girl with short red hair. “What are you doing here?”

  “Hello, Melanie.” Everything Steve said came out as a sneer. He was a skinny worm of a man
with a severely receding hairline he tried to hide by shaving his hair really short. But since he had black hair and a very pronounced widow’s peak, this only succeeded in making him look bizarrely like an almost-bald Dracula—at least in Melanie’s view.

  Wrong holiday, she thought dully. Dracula is for Halloween.

  But Steve was already speaking again.

  “Mitzy and I are on our way to a big Christmas Eve bash out on the lake,” he informed Melanie, lifting his narrow chin importantly. “But I thought I might catch you at your aunt’s house this time of year, so we swung by here first. Mitzy,” he continued, turning to the girl. “This is my ex.”

  “Pleased ta meet cha,” the girl giggled and nodded at Melanie. She was obviously still in her early twenties and wearing a green lace party dress that was stretched tightly over the rounded bulge of her lower belly.

  Six or seven months pregnant at least, whispered the nasty little voice in Melanie’s head. That should have been you, Melanie. But it never will be. You’ll never have any babies—it’s too late for you.

  “Did your aunt tell you I was trying to get in touch with you?” Steve demanded, adjusting his black suit, which looked like something an undertaker would wear.

  “Yes…” Melanie sighed tiredly. “I know you want your record collection back and you can have it. I don’t want anything of yours. You could have just taken it with you in the first place—”

  “It’s not about the records,” Steve interrupted, cutting her off. “I have some paperwork I need you to sign.”

  Melanie frowned.

  “But I already signed the divorce papers. That’s over and done.”

  “The divorce is, yes,” Steve said, pulling a sheaf of papers out of his inner jacket pocket. “These are for something different. Here.”

  He shoved the papers at Melanie, who was forced to squint at them in the dim light, since the sun was sinking and it was almost dusk.