The Krinar's Informant
Page 11
Pushing away from her, he swung his legs off the bed.
Her voice had a note of desperation. “Zavir.”
He kept his back to her, couldn’t look at her for the fear of seeing the truth in her eyes. “Is that what last night was about?”
Hurt mixed with the desperation in her tone. “What do you mean?”
“Is that why you came to me out of your own?”
“No,” she exclaimed. “I’m not trying to manipulate you with sex.”
“What then? Why the sudden rebellion again?”
“It’s too much. Too soon.” She swallowed audibly. “Maybe you’ll grow tired of me.”
He uttered a cold laugh. “In your dreams, darling.”
“Please, Zavir, is it too much to ask?”
He stood, flexing his hands before curling them into fists. “The party will take place as scheduled.”
For a long time, there was only silence. When he finally gathered the courage to face her, she had a smile on her face, but her eyes were misty. Too bright.
“Don’t test me, Liv.”
“Okay,” she said, infusing that same, fake brightness into her tone.
He couldn’t stand it, didn’t want that layer of pretense between them as little as he wanted a layer of clothes. “Don’t lie to me, either.”
“I’m only doing what you told me.”
“What may that be?”
“Not to make this any harder. Will protesting and screaming help?”
No, it wouldn’t, but it bothered him that she felt like protesting. His mood turned sullen. He only had himself to blame. Yes, she was doing exactly what he’d told her. She needed time to adjust to her new circumstances, but it was the one thing not in his power to give. What prevented the Council from taking her away from him? He had to make the fact that he’d claimed her public, and a formal ceremony like an engagement would serve that purpose. Korum could use her as bait, but the Council members would be a lot less comfortable with sacrificing her life if the world knew she belonged to Zavir. No, a month was all she had. All he had.
“No,” he said, the word hard in its finality. “It won’t make a single difference.”
She swallowed again and lowered her lashes, hiding her tears.
“Come.” He held out his hand in a peace offering. Apology. He couldn’t decide. Whatever. As long as he could remove this barrier that now hung heavy between them. “You need breakfast.”
She took his hand but shook her head. “Thank you, but I’m not hungry.”
His fingers tightened on hers. “You have to eat.”
“Maybe later.”
The words were weak, a poor assurance, but he didn’t have the heart to push her after their exchange as little as he could help being angry at her for trying to escape that knot that would tie her to him indefinitely. He was a mass of conflicting emotions, and he hated it. He released her hand.
“Zavir, I…”
His impatience sounded like rudeness. “Was there something else?”
She winced. “I…yes.”
“I don’t have all day.” What had gotten into him? Calm the zut down. She didn’t deserve this. It wasn’t her fault.
Her eyes grew large, but she ploughed on. “I was wondering… May I please see Karl again? And Erik?”
“No.”
More hurt washed into her beautiful eyes.
“When, then?”
“When the time is right.”
“Why? Is something wrong?”
“Nothing you need to concern yourself about.”
“This is it?” she asked softly, a quiver to her voice. “This is how it’s going to be?”
“I’ve already told you, how it’s going to be depends entirely on you.”
The wounded look on her face was as much as he could take. Not trusting his temper, he got dressed and left to start the task of finding their Keith.
As the days passed, Liv’s appetite dwindled. She was listless and tired. Her moods hovered between sadness and desperation, because Zavir wouldn’t tell her anything about her brothers. Except for that one visit with Karl, she hadn’t seen them since Zavir had kidnapped her. She hadn’t seen anyone except Zavir. He kept her locked in his quarters, refusing to tell her how long they were staying. For all she knew, she was trapped here indefinitely. She couldn’t bring herself to read, watch movies, or try to have a conversation with the house. Since she’d stopped asking the house for meals, it delivered them automatically, always at set mealtimes. She ate for the sole purpose of nourishing her body, but the dresses that had come with the house were already fitting looser.
Zavir worked in the day and came to her at night, adjusting his calendar to her human hours and the physical demands of her body. He took her every night, sometimes several times. She couldn’t blame his healthy libido for being tired. What else did she have to do but rest? Only, sleep didn’t come easily. Like her appetite, it was something that had started eluding her.
Making a point of keeping track of time, she asked the house for the date every morning. Today was Friday. She lay in bed, rubbing her eyes while gathering the energy to get up and dress. Even the mundane tasks seemed too demanding. She dragged herself to the bathroom, showered, and dressed, like every other morning, and then went to the living area where breakfast would be waiting, like every other morning. A huge bouquet of pink roses made her stop in her tracks.
Her favorite.
The perfume of the flowers drifted to her on the air. She approached the float on which the vase stood. They were magnificent. Running a finger over the velvet petals, she inhaled their sweet scent. Her gaze fell on the float set with breakfast. It wasn’t the dishes from Krina she’d gotten used to, but a stack of pancakes drenched in syrup and topped with fat, ripe strawberries. Next to it stood a steaming mug of coffee.
Her favorite breakfast.
She padded to the table, taking in the feast.
“What’s the occasion?”
She didn’t expect the house to answer, any longer, but she’d gotten used to talking to herself, voicing her thoughts out loud.
A plank drifted under her, almost encouraging her to sit down. She did so hesitantly, not fully understanding or trusting what was going on. The sight of the food did make her stomach rumble, reminding her she needed to eat, even if she didn’t feel like it. Not even the sight of the scrumptious breakfast was enough to kick-start her appetite. She cut into the fluffy pancake and took a small bite. The food smelled good. It was probably delicious, but she tasted nothing. Her stomach protested as she swallowed. She picked off a few strawberries, chewing unenthusiastically.
In the dressing room, a new dress waited for her. It wasn’t the pastel colors of the Krinar, but bright red. It was pretty, but she wasn’t used to showing so much skin.
At lunchtime, she was taken aback to find a portion of planted-based chicken substitute and French fries on her plate. She ate a few fries and managed to take a couple of bites of the chicken substitute. It tasted good, but she wasn’t hungry. She spent the afternoon watching the digital time on the wall, waiting for Zavir to arrive.
When he finally did, she got up from her seat in the lounge, almost too eagerly. The only distraction she could cope with was sex. Wow. Maybe she was turning into a sex addict.
A smile transformed Zavir’s face as she neared. She studied his chiseled features, the square jaw darkened with his trimmed beard, straight nose, and angled lines of his cheekbones. Harsh and dangerous, but not at the moment. Now, he regarded her with a warm light in his eyes that softened his features. He was physical perfection, from his broad frame and the lithe way he moved, down to his odd birthmark. The mark only made him more perfect in his uniqueness. He was unlike any other K she knew. Unlike any other man. No one else provoked the tingling feeling in her belly or the warmth that spread through her womb at the knowledge of what was to come. Pathetic as it was, she looked forward to being used, just as she’d be using him for her own pleasure.
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He took her hand, but instead of leading her to the bedroom, he pulled her to his chest. “Missed me?” he asked in a low voice, brushing his lips over hers.
The scruffiness of his stubble reminded her of how good that scratchiness felt between her legs. Her cheeks heated at the thought even as her inner muscles clenched.
“You have a beard.”
His eyes crinkled in the corners. “You’re only noticing now?”
“What I mean to say is you have one when other Ks don’t. How come?”
“For the same reason I have a skin defect. I’m not a designer baby conceived in a lab. My conception happened spontaneously.”
“That explains the Ks’ perfection. Most of them must be designer babies.”
“Yes. The imperfect exceptions like me are few and far apart.”
“I think you’re perfect.” She added quickly, “In a physical sense.”
His grin was boyish. “When you meet my parents, you can tell them that. I’m sure it’ll make my mother very happy.”
“I’m going to meet your parents?” she asked, surprised.
“Of course.”
She’d never given his family any thought. Introducing her to his parents was the last thing she’d expected. Their circumstances weren’t exactly normal. Whatever would his parents think of their forced relationship? “Do they live on Krina?”
“Yes, in Tinara.”
“I’ll have to go to another planet?”
“No, it’ll be a virtual visit.”
“What will they think of me? Won’t they mind that you’ve chosen a human instead of a Krinar mate?”
“Don’t worry about that now. That’s for the future.” He brushed his knuckles over her cheek. “You never told me how your parents died.”
She stilled, the familiar pain lodging into her heart. “I never told you they died.”
“I read it in your file.”
“You have a file on me?”
“Does it surprise you?”
“I guess not.”
“Was it a long time ago?”
“Not so long.”
“What happened?”
She tensed. “I don’t like to talk about it.”
Placing her hand, that he still held, on his chest, he wrapped an arm around her waist and held her close to his body, for once touching her in a way that had nothing to do with sex. It felt good. Too good, maybe.
He lowered his head to kiss her neck. “You can tell me,” he said, his breath a warm whisper on her ear.
“Why?”
“Because I have a feeling you’ve never told anyone.”
He was right. It wasn’t only that talking brought back the painful memories, but also that her brothers, Hans, and she had left immediately after to join the Resistance. No one in the Resistance asked about anyone’s background. She’d left her old life behind to live in hiding, and they’d kept to themselves. Her only remaining friend was Anita, who she’d hooked up with in secret since coming to Costa Rica, but not even Anita knew exactly how it had happened. The strange thing was she did want to tell him. She’d been carrying the weight of it for far too long, never voicing her true thoughts for the fear of doing what Hans had been doing, letting hate into her heart.
Taking a deep breath, she said, “During the Great Panic, there was violence and looting everywhere in the country. Our small town didn’t escape the unrest. People panicked. There was a sudden rush for the basic necessities. Food became scarce. People killed each other for fuel and water. When our resources started running low, my parents drove to a nearby farm to try trading livestock with the farmer. They didn’t know looters had already attacked the farm, killed the farmer and his family, and taken shelter in their home.” She swallowed. “They fired at my parents’ car. My dad managed to turn around, and they almost made it home.”
“Almost?” he asked softly, pulling away to look into her eyes.
“Erik was on outlook duty. We were taking turns. He saw their car as it came up the road. They’d both been shot and lost a lot of blood. They died before an ambulance could get there.”
There was genuine regret in his expression. “I’m sorry for what happened during the Great Panic. It was never meant to turn out that way.”
“You knew the risks when you came to our planet.” She spread her fingers over his hard chest. “You must’ve predicted what was going to happen, or did you simply not care?”
He gave her a tender smile. “If I could, I’d take it away from you.”
She blinked, not sure what to say. While she appreciated the sweet notion, a part of her still blamed him and his kind. If not for them, her family would still be alive. She’d have gone to school and studied medicine. None of this Resistance nightmare would’ve happened, but it was what it was, and no amount of wishful thinking was going to change that. In the bigger scheme of things, there was less pollution and Earth had started thriving again.
His tone took on a lighter note. “Do you like the flowers?”
“That was you?”
He cocked his head. “Who else?”
“I thought… I don’t know. Maybe the house.”
He arched a brow. “The house?”
What did she know? She didn’t know what to think anymore. “Why? What’s the occasion?”
He traced a finger over her jaw. “Do I need one?”
“I don’t understand.”
“I wanted you to have something beautiful.”
“Oh.”
It was sweet. Wrong. He didn’t care about her in a way a man who gave a woman flowers did. It was a human gesture he’d adopted but didn’t understand or mean. It only made her feel more vulnerable. She tried to break their stare, to hide her feelings, but she couldn’t look away from his eyes.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
“Do you like the dress? I thought maybe you’re missing your Earth styles and colors.”
“It’s very pretty.”
He brushed a thumb over her knuckles. “But?”
“I don’t have the figure for it.”
“I disagree.”
A flush heated her cheeks. It wasn’t the compliment that warmed her, but the embarrassment at knowing how her imperfections paled in comparison to his, how her body had to look next to his, although, with every passing day some of her imperfections seem to vanish. Her skin was glowing. Her hair was shining. Her nails, which used to be brittle and break, had grown long.
“You didn’t eat much,” he said, scrutinizing her. “Didn’t the food please you?”
“No, it did. It was thoughtful. I’m just not very hungry.”
He studied her for a moment longer before saying, “How about we go for a walk?”
She sucked in a breath. “Really?”
He grinned, as if he found her amusing. “Yes, really.”
“You mean,” she glanced over his shoulder at the off-white barrier of the wall, “outside?”
“Yes. Outside.”
“Okay,” she said eagerly. “That will be nice.”
His fingers tightened around hers. “The cultured gardens are pleasant at this time of the evening.”
The wall opened to let them out. They took a transport pod to one of the Center gardens, which resembled a small park. Ks stared at them as they passed down the pathway, some with open hostility. Zavir didn’t react, and she refused to cringe. It was too good to be somewhere other than her off-white prison. Keeping her back straight, she held onto the big K’s hand, drawing strength from his silent support.
Already dark, the garden was lit with soft, green spotlights. The temperature was pleasant, much cooler than the humid heat of the jungle. How did they manage that? She made a mental note to ask Zavir. The fragrance of the flowers drifted on the air. Some of the red and yellow ones looked exotic.
“This is beautiful,” she whispered.
“You’ve seen a Krinar garden when we visited the medical center.”
“Not at night.”
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“I’ll bring you more often,” he promised.
She stopped.
He gave her a quizzical look. “Is something the matter?”
“Why did you bring me here?”
“You need exercise.”
She didn’t know what she wanted him to say, but it wasn’t that.
“What is it, Liv?”
“Nothing.”
“It’s not nothing. You’re upset.”
“I’m not.”
“Don’t lie to me.”
“Zavir, let it be. Please. It’s nothing.”
“No. I want to know what upset you.”
She took a shaky breath. “It’s the way you treat me.”
He frowned. “How I treat you?”
“Like a pet. Measuring how much I eat and sleep. Punishing me. Taking me out for walks. I told you before, I have feelings.”
“It’s for your own good.”
“Taking away my freedom is for my good?”
The line of his jaw turned hard. “We’ve been through this.”
“Before you…” She bit her lip, searching for the right words.
“Go on,” he said, his face tight.
“Before you took me, I had a job. I was useful. Independent.”
“Useful?” He smiled, but the gesture had lost its warmth. “Dishing up food for Resistance fighters? Cleaning up after your brothers?”
“I was studying natural medicine before then. I worked for a homeopath.”
“Redundant. Our medicine is much more advanced than anything you’ve studied.”
“That’s not the point.”
His voice carried an edge. “Then get to the point.”
She swallowed. “I have ambitions. I need to earn my own way.”
“No. You are my responsibility. I’ll take care of you.”
“What do I do?” she cried in exasperation. “Sit in a white room and go crazy while waiting for you to come home?”
“There are things you could do. Hobbies.”
“It’s not the same. Don’t you understand? I need a purpose in life. I need to be able to make my own decisions.”
He crossed his arms. “I’ll decide what’s best for you.”
“You can’t do that. That’s not how it works.”