The Kindred Warrior's Captive Bride: A Kindred Tales PLUS Length Novel

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by Evangeline Anderson


  “They don’t. They revere them—they even worship a female Goddess,” Laxah told her. “A Kindred warrior seeing a helpless girl being sold at an auction wouldn’t have been able to walk away.” She sighed. “I guess I owe Needrix an apology. He’s even going to drop you off to the male you were originally intended for—if you still want to go there, that is.” She raised one salt and pepper eyebrow at Lan’ara. “Do you?”

  “Well, of course I do,” Lan’ara protested. “Senator Pouncenblast owns his own island on Genu Six. I’ll be living in the lap of luxury as his Primary Bride. All I have to do is give him an heir and my future will be assured.”

  “Listen to yourself.” Laxah’s eyes flashed. “All you have to do is give him an heir? Don’t you know that females are good for more things than being pretty and making babies, girl?”

  “Oh, well…” Lan’ara was somewhat taken aback by the other woman’s vehemence. “I…at the Twyleth Tigg Academy, that was mostly what we were trained for.”

  “I can understand that you’ve been raised in a repressive, misogynistic environment,” Laxah said. “But before you jump right back into it, think about your life. You’re young—you can do anything you want. You don’t have to go to some male and bear him children in order to have a sense of self-worth—you’re better than that.”

  “I am?” Lan’ara asked doubtfully. “But, I mean…what would I do? If I didn’t go to Senator Pouncenblast, I mean?”

  “You could learn a skill,” Laxah said. “I’ve been asking Captain Glo’ll to let me take on an assistant forever. I’m almost ready to retire but I don’t like to leave The Dark Heart without a Med Tech.”

  “You think you could train me to be a Med Tech?” Lan’ara hadn’t ever considered such an idea.

  “It depends. Do you faint at the sight of blood?” Laxah demanded.

  “No.” Lan’ara shook her head. “Once my friend, Prissy Whillikers got her finger nearly cut all the way off using the embroidery sheers. All the other girls were screaming and the instructor started throwing up everywhere. I was the one who wrapped Prissy’s finger in a clean cloth and got her to the nurse. They were able to reattach it, too,” she ended proudly.

  “Good, that’s good!” Laxah exclaimed, nodding. “See—I bet you’d make an excellent med tech. Maybe you should give it some thought.”

  “I would but…” Lan’ara’s spirits fell suddenly. “But my Lord Need paid forty thousand credits for me, as I said. How could I just decide not to go to Senator Pouncenblast so he can get his money back?”

  “How indeed?” Laxah frowned darkly. “As I told you, my dear, the Kindred revere women. Maybe you should talk to him about it. Maybe, in time, you could pay him back yourself.”

  “Could I? How much do med techs make?” Lan’ara asked doubtfully.

  “Not that much. Did you say Need paid forty thousand credits for you?” It was Psoas, stretching his long neck over to join in their conversation, even though his body was still seated in the viewing room.

  “Hush, Psoas—it’s none of your business,” Laxah snapped. “Go back to your game.”

  “I was just curious.” The engineer’s pink eyes glowed briefly. “You shouldn’t be filling the girl’s head with nonsense, Laxah. If Need paid that much for her, he has to expect to get it back somehow. And turning the girl into a med tech isn’t going to do it.”

  Laxah put a hand on her hip.

  “Well maybe you could train her to be an engineer, then. You get a cut of every smuggling run we do, whereas I only get a flat salary.”

  Psoas frowned.

  “I don’t know that she’s suited to engineering. I’m able to stretch and contort myself to see any part of the ship’s engine at any time.” He frowned thoughtfully at Lan’ara. “How stretchy are you? And are you good with mechanical things?”

  “Not very and not at all, I’m afraid,” Lan’ara said apologetically. “What I’m best at, honestly, is cooking and baking.”

  “Oh, that’s right!” Psoas’s pink eyes brightened. “You were going to make me small cakes today, right?”

  “Sure.” Lan’ara smiled. “My Lord Need has told me that I’m on my own until this evening. I would be pleased to spend the day making your family recipe.”

  Laxah scowled.

  “There you go again—jumping to serve a male’s will!”

  “No, I honestly love to cook,” Lan’ara protested. “And trying new recipes is fun. Maybe I could make something for you, too?” she asked Laxah.

  “Well, if you honestly like to cook, there is that chieva brittle I was telling you about last night, before that swine, Drung interrupted us.” She made a face.

  “I’d be pleased to make it for you,” Lan’ara said quickly, not wanting to talk or think about the disgusting Trollox.

  “Small cakes first, though!” Psoas exclaimed. “Here—I’ll get you the recipe. I printed it out last night after Last Meal.”

  One of his arms stretched out the doorway and down the corridor which led to the back part of the ship. It got longer and longer and thinner and thinner until it was completely out of sight. But a moment later, it was snaking back to its owner, one six-fingered hand clutching a printed sheet of paper.

  “Thank you,” Lan’ara said politely, taking it from him. She scanned it over and nodded to herself. Small cakes looked to be a kind of little hand-held confection coated in a creamy glaze—not unlike the fairy bites she’d made at the academy. They would be time-consuming to make, but she had all day, after all.

  “Well?” Psoas’s head was hovering over her shoulder anxiously, reading the recipe as she scanned it. “What do you think? Can you make them?”

  “Absolutely, as long as we have all the ingredients,” Lan’ara told him.

  “We do! We do! Here!” Both arms stretched out this time and his hands opened the tall dry storage pantry and began eagerly picking out boxes and bottles.

  “Psoas, I wish you’d at least get up,” Laxah grumbled as she rose to wash out her goo bowl at the sink, maneuvering around the long, stretchy arms as she did. “You take up so much more space, all spread out that way!”

  “Sorry.” The engineer’s body got up from the couch and came to join his head and hands. He did take up less space when he was all together, Lan’ara thought. “There,” he told her, nodding proudly at the assembled ingredients on the counter. “Everything you need to make small cakes.”

  “I’ll get right to work,” Lan’ara promised, smiling. “You can have them for dessert after Last Meal tonight.”

  “Small cakes for dessert! I could just kiss you!” Psoas exclaimed, his neck stretching so that his face was quite close to Lan’ara’s. “Oh, but I’d better not,” he added, withdrawing a bit. “I’m pretty sure Needrix wouldn’t like that, even if it was only intended as a friendly gesture.”

  “What does Need care?” Laxah demanded. “He’s selling her to another male, remember?”

  “That’s what he says, but don’t you remember the way he acted last night when Drung was saying he wanted her?” Psoas raised both eyebrows, his face hovering near the med tech’s now. “I’ve never seen him that upset—I thought he was going to explode at the mere thought of another male touching her.”

  “He was defending his property,” Laxah said shortly.

  “No—he was defending his female,” Psoas corrected her. “Don’t you know that when a Kindred chooses a female, he bonds her to him for life? Need may say he’s going to hand her over to that buyer on Genu Six, but after that little performance last night, I’d be very surprised if he actually does.”

  “Really?” Lan’ara felt her heart leap in her chest. Could it be that Need would want to keep her after all?

  “Really,” Psoas assured her. “He’s not going to want to give you up. So you see,” he went on, speaking to Laxah now. “There’s no need for you to teach the girl to be a Med Tech—unless you want to. Or for me to teach her how to fix ship engines. She can stay right here on The D
ark Star and just cook and bake to her heart’s content.”

  Lan’ara felt as though he had planted a seed of hope in her heart—a seed that couldn’t help but sprout and grow. She imagined herself cooking for the crew during the day and then sleeping in the protective circle of Need’s arms every night. It wouldn’t be living in the lap of luxury as she would be if she went to Senator Pouncenblast on Genu Six, but it would be a life with the big Kindred, which she had somehow become very attached to in a short time.

  “Don’t fill the girl’s head with nonsense, Psoas,” Laxah said, bursting the lovely dream bubble that had been growing in Lan’ara’s imagination. “Kindred or not, Need paid forty thousand credits for her—he’s going to want to recoup those losses. The girl is going to Genu Six.”

  “I wouldn’t be so sure.” The engineer looked thoughtful. “After all, she’s the first female he’s taken any kind of interest in at all since his mate died over ten cycles ago.”

  “What?” Lan’ara looked at him with renewed interest. She was remembering the little holo picture cube she’d found on his desk—the one of the smiling girl with blonde hair who was heavy with her pregnancy. “What did she look like?” she asked, wondering if the picture had actually been Need’s mate.

  “He didn’t say—only that she was beautiful and taken from him too soon,” Psoas said mysteriously. “It was late one night and we were deep in our cups in a dive bar on Panthos Prime. I asked him why he never went to whorehouses with me and that’s when he finally told.” He shrugged, which was an odd sight since it made his whole, long body ripple. “Even drunk, he’s a closed-mouth son-of-a-bitch. But I got the impression he thought he’d never be interested in a female again.” He winked at Lan’ara. “Then you came along.”

  “I still don’t think you should give the girl false hope,” Laxah said, frowning. “But for now, I have to get to work.” She smiled at Lan’ara. “I’ll come by later with that recipe if you think you’ll have time to make it.”

  “Certainly.” Lan’ara smiled at her. A whole day of cooking and baking! It was exactly what she loved. “Just drop it off to me here and I’ll get to it after I finish Psoas’s small cakes.”

  Laxah promised to do that and she and the engineer both went off to work. And, as Lan’ara mixed and stirred and clattered around the food prep area, the seed of hope in her heart grew even taller and a secret flower began to bloom.

  Twenty-Five

  Need hesitated for a moment, looking at the long-range viewscreen, his finger hovering over the send button. Should he make the call?

  Don’t be ridiculous—of course you should, whispered a little voice in his head. The girl has to go and the sooner you contact the one she’s intended for, the better. You know you’re getting in too deep with her, Need. It’s only been a day and already you can’t get her off your mind.

  Which was true. He had barely been able to make himself concentrate on his navigational duties that day. Every thought he had seemed to turn back to the curvy little female and all he wanted to do was go find her and take her in his arms. If he didn’t get rid of her soon, he wouldn’t be able to at all. She had to go.

  He forced himself to press the send button and was soon connected to the private palace of Senator Pouncenblast of Genu Six. After speaking to several people, he was finally transferred to the Senator’s secretary, a bored-looking male with bulging, fishy eyes and gills on the sides of his neck which were only partially concealed by his high, stiff collar.

  “Yes?” he said, sounding completely disinterested. “Who are you and how can I help you?”

  “I’m…” Need’s mouth was suddenly dry and he could barely make himself say the words. “I…I…”

  “Well?” the secretary exclaimed impatiently. “I’m a very busy male—if you don’t come out with what you want double quick, I’ll have no choice but to terminate this call!”

  “I’m Needrix, Navigator and Sales Coordinator of The Dark Star,” Need finally managed to say. “We specialize in hard-to-get items and we’ve recently run into an excellent opportunity involving a large shipment of Yarrow root.”

  “Yarrow root?” The secretary’s eyebrows shot up. “That’s a controlled substance in our sector.”

  “So it is,” Need agreed amiably. “But it can also be extremely profitable. I notice that your boss, the Senator, lives on a private island. It occurs to me that distribution would be difficult to trace if you effected the transactions on water, away from the prying eyes of the authorities.”

  The secretary scowled.

  “How dare you, Sir? The Senator’s public stance on dangerous drugs like Yarrow root is well known—we oppose them at every turn.”

  “Ah…I see.” Need nodded.

  “Good day, Sir!” the secretary exclaimed and the viewscreen went blank.

  Need cursed himself for a fool. He had really screwed that up, asking if an elected official wanted to buy and distribute a controlled substance! And yet somehow, he hadn’t been able to make himself ask about the girl, so the drug deal had come out of his mouth instead. The Senator would never listen to him now if he tried to talk about selling Lan’ara back to him.

  Somewhere in the back of his mind, he had a sneaking feeling of relief.

  Well, I tried, he thought with a mental shrug. Too back I fucked it up. Guess I’ll just have to keep her now…

  “Hello? I’m back,” the secretary said, breaking into his thoughts.

  “Huh?” Need frowned at the viewscreen, which had come back to life.

  “Forgive the interruption, I had to have your signal checked and make certain you weren’t with some watch dog agency or other,” the secretary said, rolling his fishy eyes. “They can be so tiresome and sensitive about issues that really don’t concern them at all.”

  “I see.” Need nodded.

  “Now, then, as I was saying, our official stance on drugs is to condemn them. Unofficially, however, the Senator is open to…shall we say…certain private opportunities. Providing they are kept completely confidential.”

  “You can rely on that,” Need assured him. “My employer has no interest in rousing any kind of public attention.”

  “Very good, very good. Yes, of course.” The secretary nodded and rubbed his long, white hands together—they appeared to have webbing between the fingers. “Just let us know when you’ll be arriving and I’m certain we can work out a deal,” he told Need.

  “It’ll be a few days yet,” Need told him. “We have to pick up the shipment first, but our supplier is completely reliable and his product is the best.”

  He named a day for delivery and the secretary nodded again.

  “Very good—yes, we can do that. I don’t believe there will be any visiting dignitaries that day. We’ll see you then.”

  He gave Need the coordinates for landing and was about to end the call when Need heard himself say,

  “There’s something else.”

  “Yes?” The secretary’s eyebrows rose again with renewed interest. “Another opportunity?”

  “Of a sort.” Need swallowed hard and had to force the next words out. “I have…come across something I think might belong to the Senator. Something I found in a slave market on Yys.”

  The secretary frowned.

  “You must be mistaken. The Senator does not buy slaves—they’re too easy to trace and his constituents wouldn’t like it.”

  “This particular slave was a girl who tells me she was earmarked just for him,” Need heard himself saying. “A real beauty with creamy brown skin and big, dark eyes with gold flecks in them. She was educated at the Twyleth Tigg Academy in the Trell’wick system. She told me she was meant to be the Senator’s new Primary Bride.”

  “Oh!” The secretary’s fishy eyes flew wide. “I know what you’re talking about now! But the Twyleth Tigg Academy was raided by pirates—all the girls were either taken or killed.”

  “They were,” Need acknowledged. “The pirates sold them to slavers and the
one that bought this girl just happened to be selling her at auction while I was in the marketplace on Yys yesterday.”

  Gods, had it been only yesterday? It seemed much longer ago that the girl had come into his life. Need told himself it only seemed like that because she had managed to worm her way into his heart so quickly—which was, of course, why he needed to get rid of her.

  “So you bought her?” the secretary asked.

  “I bought her,” he answered. “For forty thousand credits. But she’s saying that she belongs to the Senator.”

  “Hmm…a most interesting happenstance.” The secretary nodded, rubbing his long, bony chin. “Let me speak to Senator Pouncenblast and see if he still wants her. Sometimes in these cases, when the merchandise has been damaged, it’s no longer quite so desirable as it once was.”

  “I understand,” Need said, nodding.

  And he did, too. The old bastard didn’t want Lan’ara if she wasn’t a virgin. As if her worth ought to be determined by something as stupid as that! The thought made him angry but he kept the emotion inside and made his face blank.

  “I have not, er, damaged her myself in any way,” he said. (Which was technically true, since he hadn’t put his shaft inside her, no matter how badly he’d wanted to when she was writhing against him the night before.) “And the slaver I bought her from said she was a verified virgin.”

  “Well, that’s very good to hear. Give me some time—I’ll call you back at these same coordinates,” the secretary said.

  “I’ll be waiting for your call,” Need told him and killed the viewscreen.

  As it faded to black, his insides were a mass of knots. Part of him was thinking that this was good—the senator would certainly want Lan’ara since she was still a virgin. So she could go live in the lap of luxury with him on his private island.

  But another—much larger part—was wondering what he had done. And hoping against hope that the secretary could call back and say that Senator Pouncenblast didn’t want the girl after all.

 

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