Iora huffed. “There’s a party at Sadie’s. Can I go now? The little kids should stop coming now. It’s after eight.”
“No way are you going!” Moriah shouted. “You are going to clean up this mess! You were suppose to do it when you got home.”
“I didn’t make all this mess! You did!”
“You made most of it!” Moriah declared hotly. “Do you even care? I work my butt off to feed you, put clothes on your back. I’ve always given you everything you wanted. The least you can do is to be considerate. But, not only are you not grateful, you treat me like your servant, like you’re ashamed of me. I’m not your housemaid, you know! I’m your mother!”
Iora snorted, as if she couldn’t find a quick retort, or perhaps doubted Moriah was much of a mother by her standards. It was hard to tell sometimes what she thought. She was either too quiet, or fought Moriah like a she-cat.
It was then Moriah realized the windows were still open. It had been so hot inside when she’d arrived home; she had opened everything up wide.
But her temper was too close to the surface for her to care if anyone heard; Moriah was on a roll, self-pity and pain ruling her words.
“This is not my fault!” she continued. “I never asked for this injury! I can’t help it if I can’t keep up. I work, and when I have a day off, I cook and clean and wash. When do I get time for myself? You head off to school; get to play with your friends. It’s time you get your head out of the sand, pull your own weight around here, start helping with things. I slave all day lifting old people, cleaning up their messes, and what happens? I come home to a house that’s worse than the homes I’ve just left. And they need Home Care!”
Moriah barely took a breath, before she continued with her tirade. “And you think you are hard done by when I ask you to pick up after yourself; you think you’re entitled to the things I give you! I am not your personal slave!”
Moriah groaned.
All this arguing is giving me a headache!
“And I’m not your pal either, like you seem to think! I am your mother! Mothers aren’t supposed to be best friends with their daughters! I know, I’ve done that all your life. I admit, I was wrong in that. I did it in the past, because you were too shy to mix with other kids. Being your chum is not normal, you know! I didn’t have to do it! You wanted it, so I did it! I was all you had. But I’m not your sister! I’m your mother! I’m not doing it any more!”
Tears formed on the lashes of the teenager. “I thought you liked when we did things together?”
“I don’t like shopping with you! Nothing is ever good enough! You get everything; I go without! I’m tired of pretending I like what you do. I hate the things you like! All your life I’ve bowed to your wishes. I don’t even like to eat the way you do, but we always have to favour your tastes; I can never have what I like!”
How did the conversation take this turn? It’s just that it’s been building for so long, it had to come out, and now I can’t stop.
Tears rushed to her own eyes.
“I want my own life for a change,” she wailed. “I’m tired of picking up after you, of picking you up from school. I’m fed up with shopping for what you want only. When is it going to be my turn? I need someone to care about me, to take care of me. I can’t do this anymore!”
Moriah sat up, cradling her back with her hands, hot tears falling.
“I’m constantly aching, and you couldn’t care less. No sympathy at all, no offer to help! Momma, can I go out with my friends? If you want that, from now on you do something to earn it, do something around here! You wouldn’t even have friends if I hadn’t pushed you to interact!”
Iora finally found her voice, and she had inherited a sizable temper of her own. “I made my own friends! You weren’t there. You weren’t with me at school! I got invited to the party tonight…because they like me! I could have been at that party, if you hadn’t insisted I stay and serve you, hand out these treats to the little squirts! You are not my keeper!”
“Oh, yeah, now that you have friends, you think you’re better than me! If I didn’t check out your friends’ families first, so I knew they were safe for you to go to their sleepovers, you’d just be going off naively with any guy who wanted you!”
“I hate you, mom! I hate you! You’ve always been so dominating! Nobody else has to put up with this kind of possessiveness! I hate you! You’re a bad mother!”
“I’m what?” shouted Moriah. “I’m what? Thanks a lot! That hurts, you know.”
“Good! I meant it to hurt you!”
“You go to your room, you hear? And don’t you come out until morning! And put out the porch light and lock the door, when you go by. And don’t forget to set the alarm!”
Her daughter fled her presence like an angry stomping bear, her countenance like a thundercloud, grumbling in the background.
CHAPTER 17
Shiveron and Reon stood in the jut-in just behind the back door listening to every word, each with sympathy toward the female of their own age.
The older male had never realized a female might feel the burden of responsibility. It had never dawned on him one would even be left on her own. Females of their world were the heads of a family; served and treasured because they were in limited supply. Their word was law; obeyed without question. Females were guarded with great care and possessiveness. He couldn’t fathom anyone abandoning one.
And this she did seem to be an alone female.
Who fathered her child, and why does he not take care of them? Has he simply taken her for his own satisfaction?
Such a one, on their world, would have been cornered and torn to pieces.
According to what he had heard, these two had been alone for a very long time.
Shiveron queried by mind projection.
Reon? Have you made a decision?
I will rescue the younger. Leave the mother.
Ah, no. Mother has good in her. Just hurt, angry. You know how females are when they are beside themselves.
Reon nodded.
Sorry, poppa. I was not kind. We take both.
Shiveron grinned.
They settled down to wait. When all was quiet inside, they would enter.
****
The back door of the residence was at the north side. At last, the inside of the building had gone dark, and from the outside appeared silent. Shiveron motioned his son to stay hidden, while he approached the door alone.
He touched the doorjamb cautiously, found the alarm system in the frame; he could feel in his fingers the pulsing energy that ran through the wiring. In his mind, he traced the lead wire back to its source in a room downstairs.
From a hidden pocket on his belt, Shiveron produced the damping device, attaching it over the area where the wire was situated in the middle of the frame. After a second, he heard the click that told him the alarm had been disengaged.
He turned the doorknob slowly; the device not only had disabled the warning, but had also unlocked the door. He removed his appliance from its position, and dropped it back into its hiding pouch.
It seemed safe now for them to enter. But he cautioned Reon to remain where he was, until he could determine if it was indeed hazardless for them inside.
Like a primitive, Shiveron slipped in, sliding, slinking, making himself diminutive, shape-shifting to a smaller version of the cat form he’d chosen as camouflage, laying close to the floor, then moving forward, slowly.
He was in an alcove; the wall high above on both sides of upward leading steps shielding him. Another set of stairs led down, as well.
These females aren’t very well protected here; too easy to get in unseen. What if we were Roog? They prey upon the vulnerable. These females would be easy meat to them, if they had discovered them first.
With their advanced technology, Roog and Feline were no match for the human world.
Shiveron made for the lower level first. As he moved down the stairs, his senses detected the position of the occupa
nts: the older female lay dozing on a couch in the room above, the television softly speaking in a hushed tone though the room was darkened. The younger female was down here behind a closed door, working at a muted computer. She was in an Internet chat room site.
Shiveron almost chuckled.
She didn’t go to bed; instead she chose to seek solace from another.
We'll have to move with care here.
He had thought both asleep, but even though they weren’t, he was in now, and needed to proceed.
No male presence. I was right about that.
Shiveron decided to bring Reon in.
Returning to the side entrance, Shiveron eased open the outer door, beckoning to his young kit. Together they moved into position.
Shiveron moved up; Reon down. They would go to opposite corners of the apartment, the elder to the northeast upper; the junior to the southwest lower quadrant, thus ensuing coverage of all contained in the living space. Here each would set a locator.
The only material unable to be teleported to a transfer station in this manner was a living creature, thus they must manually remove these females before activating the jump sequence so their property would eventually arrive at home in med bay.
The locators placed, Shiveron moved back down. Reon chose to hide in an empty cupboard for the wait; Shiveron decided to step into the open closet of the empty larger bedroom, disappearing among the clothes.
In his mind, he watched the female above. He sent out an unspecified thought warning to awaken her.
She jerked awake, groaned at the sudden movement, and sat up with difficulty. The half-Noor male felt empathy; she seemed in such pain.
Rising from the couch, she moved slowly to the steps.
The female progressed as if injured, her back stiff, as though fearing a sudden jarring. One step at a time, favouring her right leg, setting it down gingerly, as if she were unable to feel it, she inched down the stairs to the basement rooms. She clung to the railing, not letting go between the steps, using it for support, sliding her hand along but not releasing until she reached bottom, and the solid floor of the hallway.
As she passed her daughter’s room, she must have noted some evidence of activity within. “Iora! Shut off that computer, and go to bed! Do it now!”
Shiveron grinned in the dark recess of the closet, and he watched in mind vision, as the younger female obeyed. He knew Reon too was aware.
If this female can notice the misdemeanors of her offspring, we had better hope she does not sense us before we can move.
The older female went to relieve herself in the small compartment between the two rooms. The sound of rushing water came to his ears.
Then she moved into the room where he hid. He watched silently as she disrobed, still favouring her back and the one leg. She worked carefully, gingerly.
He cringed at the pain he felt emanating from her, and the lust that should have been aroused at watching her uncover herself was tempered by sympathy.
Stark naked, she turned toward the open closet.
He shivered.
She is beautiful!
Small bosom, body well formed, as good as any Feline, but somehow, in his eyes, she stood above the rest. He hadn’t expected that.
Too bad I have to be rough with her.
Her sudden tension alerted him; she had sensed something amiss. He could wait no longer.
Shiveron lunged from the closet, growing in size as he came. He was so quick, her scream died in her throat, as his hand closed over her face. She had seen movement from the corner of her eye, and turned away, just as he jumped.
He didn’t expect her to be able to fight, considering her condition, but she struggled, biting and scratching with short-nailed ineffective human hands. He was glad she wasn’t Feline; she would have easily matched his aggression, giving him a fight for his life.
Shiveron almost enjoyed it, the challenge of conquest…until she went limp in his arms, slumping like a rag doll between his legs.
Then he felt remorse. He had hurt her. He had not meant to knock her out, not even to fight with her, but she had startled him; surprised him, that even hurting, she would and could fight back. And then his Feline side had burst to the surface with the pleasure of the conquest. Shiveron felt shame, for having overpowered this helpless female.
He eased her to the bed. He knew there was no time to savour victory or rehash past deeds; he couldn’t afford further delay.
He searched the closet for something loose fitting to cover her, found what looked like pyjamas hanging on a metal hanger. He slipped them on quickly. Her body was ice cold.
How can I keep her warm? It'll be cold outside.
He took from his pouch the bindings and gag…and tied her hands securely in front, then taped over her lips.
Leaving her, he went to Reon.
****
Reon stepped from the storage compartment, as his father gave a silent order.
It's best to render the young one unconscious. Don’t let her see you, or she’ll panic. Be gentle, and quick.
Reon nodded.
With Shiveron standing behind watching from the shadows, Reon opened the door. The female he’d chosen lay with her back to the door. Her stunning beauty took his breath away, and for a second distracted him.
She had silken black tresses, long to her mid-back, curled in natural spirals that fell over shoulders and pillow. Her skin was smooth, a light caramel brown, and the side of her face, that he could see, revealed long sweeping lashes against the flawless cheek.
Reon was smitten.
His father hissed in his mind.
Move!
Reon struck quickly, like a viper; one press to the nerve at the side of her neck. With the opposite hand he caught her as she went limp and slid toward him.
Bind her; carry her over your shoulders. I’ll get mine.
****
With both females slung over their backs, the bound hands under each male chin, Shiveron and Reon left the building. Standing just outside, Shiveron pressed the button on his belt to activate the teleport locators, and every piece of movable property vanished from inside. Then he left one last gift: turned the dial on a small incendiary device, and rolled it inside.
They were half a block away when the structure exploded, and by the time the emergency vehicles pulled up to the burning house, the four were already out of the city.
CHAPTER 18
When Moriah came to she was riding the back of a longhaired gigantic beast, the wind wild and bitter cold, blowing around her face and back. The rest of her body was suspended, bouncing and jarring as each long stride came down. She didn’t stay conscious long.
The next time she awakened, she was stationary; her tormented body screaming its agony, as she lay bound on the dirt floor of an abandoned old shack. Now there were four huge beasts hissing and spitting in low tones to each other near the door-less entrance to the structure, and over in the corner, huddled together with Iora, were two other women bound as they were.
One of the grey cat-like creatures howled a warning; the larger cat-beast turned its head, then rose and came toward her.
Moriah cringed, expecting more ill treatment.
This is the one who attacked me!
He dropped to one knee, slipped an arm beneath her shoulders and gently shifted her to a seated position against the rough wall, so they were level eye to eye. As he withdrew his arm, he pushed her hair tenderly back from her face with a human-like hand. His eyes were blue, like those of a Siamese cat, and held apology mixed with sympathy.
“Are you cold?”
It shocked her to hear the words in her English tongue, and from what appeared to be a savage beast, no less. But her acidic anger arrived quickly.
She couldn’t answer him aloud because of the tape across her mouth, but she wouldn’t give him the benefit of a nod or shake of the head either, just out of principle.
Why would you care, anyway? You’ve already manhandled me eno
ugh to bruise every part of me.
He grinned, as if he’d heard the thought, but no doubt he merely saw the wrath in her eyes. Hissing something over his shoulder to the others, the big cats seemed to break out laughing.
Is their hissing and spitting a comprehensible language?
Turning back to her, he spoke again in her dialect. “I am sorry; I meant you no hurt. I felt this was the most logical way to get you to come with us.”
Puzzled, she wondered what he wanted with her.
Before Moriah could think of a way to communicate, he turned quickly at a commotion in the doorway, as a fifth large cat carrying another woman burst through.
The enormous black beast took the woman from the other, ordering in English as he tossed her toward the corner: “Stay hidden if you value your lives!”
There was no time for further interaction; all hell broke loose out beyond the entrance.
****
“Shiveron!” yelled the grey Feline, as he appeared in the doorway. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t help it. I led them right to you. We didn’t see the Roog until we came near the shack, and then it was too late. They’ve already got Anar and his she. Whatever happens to me, please save my female; give her to another, should I die.”
Shiveron moved with speed and purpose, catching the human and tossing her back, yelling in the human tongue so the other females would understand. Then he escaped into the night, his three companions on his heels.
The Roog will not get our hard earned partners, not if I can help it!
But my son need not die in battle yet; he is far too young.
“Run, Reon! Get help! Hurry! We will distract them!”
The young male took off with unprecedented speed. Even with his unequalled youthful prowess, it would take at least twenty minutes to reach the ship.
Shiveron turned into the battle, his claws suddenly out, sharp and vicious. He had no time to count the number of their attackers, only knew the four Feline were out numbered. Suddenly, a sturdy dog bitch was upon him. Snarling, hissing, he met her head on, vengeance in his mood and manner.
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