The Krinar Chronicles: Krinar Covenant (Kindle Worlds Novella)

by Chris Roxboro

  The fragrant herbs and seasonings of his dish dissipated in his mouth. Instead he smelled Easter lily and tasted it on his tongue.

  “You’ve dated men.” He stated.

  “Yes, several.”

  He startled at the jealousy that sprang awake in his chest. He’d never experienced it before. Men and women, they were all delights for his body to enjoy. If they left him to enjoy others, so be it. There were always more after them.

  “You never slept with them?”

  She laughed. “Of course not!” She shook her head and sipped her Coca Cola, smiling as it went down. “What, did you think I lied to you, so you would leave me alone?”

  “I have a hard time believing they didn’t try to press their advantage.”

  “They did, to an extent.” She shrugged, though on her it was a graceful gesture. “Daddy knows powerful people. It was better for everyone involved if they kept their hands to themselves.”

  “You never wanted to marry any of them?”

  Again, she laughed. “No. They were all too predictable. Too polite and careful.”

  “You like impolite and dangerous.”

  She blushed. “It seems I do.”

  Jerik smiled. The wicked smile. The one that made her heart beat double-time; he could hear it. The one that spiked the aroma of her arousal in his nose. “What would make this engagement real to you?”

  She snapped her mouth shut. Shook her head. “You said we didn’t have to talk about heavy things now.”

  “I want to know.”

  She looked at him, seeming to search his face for something. A part of her surrendered. “You shared something very personal with me. I will never forget that you trusted me with that.” She looked down at her plate and fiddled with the food. “I have been waiting to fall in love. Do the Krinar not have love matches?”

  Jerik pressed his lips together. “Love comes and goes,” he offered. “I did love my mate, after a fashion.”

  “After a fashion?”

  “Clearly it wasn’t enough to make her want to stay,” he said in clipped tones and stood up. He gathered his dishes and walked to the galley kitchen. Medora made him say things—no, he chose to tell Medora things he hadn’t thought about in centuries. In millennia. “Love is important to you?”

  “Oh yes. My parents were deeply in love with each other,” she said with a smile. She cleared her own dishes and brought them over. “I’ve seen something special in my work with Humans with Heart.”

  “Tell me.” He would never tire of hearing her talk to him. About anything.

  “The families are so together,” she explained. “It’s like the cancer galvanizes them. Fires them in a crucible so that they’re stronger together than they were before.”

  “Really.”

  “Yes, at least for that short time that I’m with them.” She sighed, and he smelled her mood change to something sad. “I can’t speak for after. Some families end up breaking apart. Maybe the cancer is a forged metal that brings them together, but death makes it brittle.” She gave a humorless laugh. “I don’t know. Daddy and I had a hard time after mother died. But we made it.” She looked up at him with those dark eyes. Eyes he could dive into and never touch the bottom. “Your mate and your baby. It was brittle for you, too.”

  He inhaled sharply. She was peeling him, layer by layer. Revealing secrets he didn’t know he possessed. Pain that hid for so long he thought it didn’t exist.

  “You need to leave,” he said in a low voice. “Now.”

  She looked like he slapped her. “But why?”

  “You’ve stripped me bare, Medora,” his voice broke on her name. He gripped the edge of the counter and closed his eyes. “I can’t escape from your wiles. I want to fuck you now more than ever.” He slipped his hand into his pocket and gave her a nano-device. His voice turned husky with desire. “Push this here. I programmed it to go to your apartment. Leave me.”

  He glanced at her stricken face, saw decisions skating by in her eyes. A part of him, alright, his dick, grew hopeful. But in the end, she accepted the device and nodded, then disappeared into the portal.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Medora stood in her hallway, facing her empty bedroom. Her bedsheets were still rumpled from this morning. She panted as if she’d been in a marathon.

  Jerik hadn’t changed, but he’d unveiled himself to her, and it took her breath away. Oh God, she loved him.

  She stumbled into her room and sat in the club chair. Put her hand on her heart to feel it beating. He’d shared his event horizon. The moment in his life when he could never go back and achieve that level of happiness again. So, he turned to pleasure instead of joy. And he’d shared this with her without expecting her to have sex with him.

  If he could love her, if he could pledge fidelity to her…

  She would give him everything.

  But how does one ever revive hope after suffering a devastating loss? She looked at the small table beside the club chair where a beautiful origami crane sat. She picked it up and held it carefully in her hands. Nahoko gave this to her as a thank you. Medora had arranged for a traditional Japanese tea ceremony in her hospital room. And as an extra, she’d hired geishas to attend to everyone with music or conversation. Nahoko had died a week later still talking about it. Her mother gave her the crane, explaining Nahoko made it expressly for her.

  Medora’s eyes filled with happy tears. She couldn’t explain it. The memories of these children lived on here in her apartment. How could she give that to Jerik? Would he even want it?

  She knew everyone handled loss and death differently. Just look at the difference between her and Jerik. She couldn’t even compare it fairly. Who knows where she would be if she had lost the love of her life and their child? Or even—Jerik? Her heart hurt. If he left, if he returned to his clubs and his orgies and his endless life of pursuing forgetting—could she recover?

  Chapter Twenty

  Jerik stood at the counter, arms stretched taut as he gripped the edge, and he looked at the floor. He always pushed her away. He told himself it was for her benefit, but was it?

  He squeezed his eyes shut and could see a blur of faces of Krinar and humans he’d been with. None of them compared to Medora.

  She said she was waiting to fall in love. Love as a prerequisite to marriage was somewhat new to the institution. He’d studied the human tradition of marriage. It was a static arrangement on this planet for thousands of years. It symbolized common goals in a community. Some cultures allowed sexual relationships outside the marriage bond. Some cultures promoted multiple wives or no marriages at all. Historically, infidelity in a marriage was frowned upon, although he discovered a double standard in many eras where it was expected the man would take a mistress. Not so, the woman.

  The thought of any other man or Krinar touching Medora made him see red. For a short time, he could lay claim to her. Until she decided to break off the engagement. If he seduced her, she would hate him. If she submitted to him, she wouldn’t be Medora. When their engagement ended, they would both be free to pursue other people.

  The only way to get what he wanted, would be to follow through with the marriage and promise complete fidelity to Medora and only Medora for the rest of her life. He didn’t know if he was the kind of Krinar who could. But Medora would settle for nothing less. He sighed. She deserved nothing less.

  The truth was, she deserved far better than him.

  A popping noise erupted in his bedroom. His head shot up. Did she come back to him?

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Medora took a deep breath. What was she doing here again? Right. It was for Jerik. She stepped through the doorway, nodding to the bouncer who let her in.

  She wore her tallest pair of sexy boots, a jade green mini skirt with a matching shell tank and giant hoop earrings. She’d curled her hair and piled it on top of her head and sprayed so much product it was going to take three days to shampoo it all out. She had stroked bold wavy eyelin
es and added fake lashes for good measure, but she’d worn sunglasses. She wasn’t here to make news for the paparazzi. But she knew no one would talk to her if she wore something more classic—her usual style.

  She paused inside the entryway and channeled her Russian ballet dancer mother. It was a bit more—outré—then she had even imagined. Ecstasies you’ve never encountered and probably never will. A quick glance around the room revealed low lighting, erotic dancing, and a variety of sexual congress in booths around the perimeter. Further inspection showed her a catwalk above the dance floor from which many Krinar men and women seemed to be inspecting the dancers. It was only slightly less degrading then being a category for the online shopping network. She chastised herself for judging.

  “Here goes nothing,” she said to herself. “It won’t be the first time I’m on the block for a Krinar, but I hope it’s the last.”

  She sashayed to the dance floor and began dancing all alone. It wasn’t the vulgar and obvious choreography of the other humans. It was erotic in its subtlety. She needed to attract a certain kind of Krinar. Preferably a really old one. Of course, if Jerik caught her like this, it was all over. The hint of danger lent a kind of desperation to her grace. She marked the time on her silver wristwatch. It took seven minutes.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  “Medora?” Jerik called to his room. He dared not hope she was here to seduce him. More likely she hadn’t quite figured out the knack of the nano-device. “I’m in the kitchen.”

  “I know where you are, Jerik Krinadopoulos,” a sultry voice said. “But do you know where I am?”

  That wasn’t Medora’s voice.

  Dammit.

  “What are you doing Jaz?” He knew very well what she was doing. She had seen the news bots online and heard the soundbites. Fuck.

  “Why don’t you come in here and find out, Jerik? I’ve had some updates.”

  Jerik made a fist. He did not want to see her naked body. He absolutely did not want to see her calculating green eyes or whatever permutation she had done with her hair this time.

  “Lendarka was a long time ago, Jaz.”

  A low laugh.

  “Jerik, don’t be ridiculous,” she said from the doorway. She wore something sheer and white and filmy. But only her shoulder and half of her body were visible. “It was a blink ago.” She took a step into the hall. Her lingerie was a long sheer cloak ruffled with white feathers. It was slit strategically showing her long white legs with a peek-a-boo effect. “And as I recall, dear one,” she took another step toward him. “You followed me here to the Windy City.”

  Jerik’s jaw muscles feathered across his cheek.

  “Leave.”

  She pouted with red-stained lips. “Is that any way to treat an old friend?” She minced to the sofa and sprawled along it, arranging the fabric to cover her private parts…barely. “Let’s catch up. And of course, I’m positively dying to meet your little pet.”

  “The word is fiancée. Get out.”

  She waved her hand. “Nonsense. Krinar don’t marry. I suppose you’ll tell me you meant charl.”

  Jerik gripped the back of one of his chairs. “Why. Are. You. Here.”

  Jaz stretched. Her breasts jutted from beneath the chiffon.

  He cocked his head. Her games used to enflame him with desire. In relationship terms, she had been the longest since his mate. But it had been a mere three weeks. Part of the success was her willingness, nay, insistence, that they introduce others into their bed. Frequently. Jerik mentally assessed his body. Not a single drop of arousal ran in his veins at the sight of her.

  She sat up, a scowl marring her otherwise perfect features. “Curiosity. Disappointment. Disbelief. Shock. Pick one.” She stood up in a fluid movement. “You are Krinar. What in the hell are you doing slumming with this scrap of a girl? She’s human trash.”

  In a single bound, Jerik was at Jaz’s throat with his hand just under her larynx. “Apologize.”

  She squeaked. He loosened his grip. “Why?”

  “You will not speak of her this way.” He released her and almost gagged, her nearness jolting him with revulsion. She stunk of some other human’s blood and too much perfume.

  She had the gall to laugh. “Oh, by Krina. You have fallen in love with the chit! How ironic! Tell me, is she as ravenous in bed for you as I was?”

  He didn’t hide his reaction in time.

  Her nipples hardened, and her arousal flooded his senses. She whispered. “This is too much. You haven’t bedded her yet, have you?” She reached a hand out to grab his flaccid cock. “Has she unmanned you? Never tell me the voracious sexual beast Jerik has been living like a monk while wooing the virginal temptress?” Her voice hitched in laughter. It was splitting his head open. She whispered. “Let’s take her to bed together, Jerik. It will be just. Like. Old. Times.” She licked her lips and tugged at his trousers with both hands.

  “Leave before I bruise your pretty face.”

  Jaz hissed and jumped back as if he had hit her. “You wouldn’t dare challenge a woman!”

  Jerik smiled. “I just did.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  “One of these things is not like the other,” a voice sounded in her ear from behind her. She stopped gyrating and turned around.

  A Krinar with a five-o-clock shadow stood with both hands in his pockets. Longish black hair fell into his eyes. He wore a well-tailored gray suit jacket and white dress shirt. It was unbuttoned at the neck. No tie. A thin sheen of sweat coated his skin, and his broad shoulders tapered to a trim waist and long legs. He wore expensive leather shoes similar to Jerik’s. Hooded amber eyes surveyed her from head to toe. Medora spied a flicker of interest, but it faded when she took off her sunglasses.

  “How old are you?” She asked him over the thumping bass.

  Surprise lit up his face. He leaned close to her ear. “A pickup line I haven’t heard before.”

  “I’m, uh, not here to pick up anyone in the traditional sense.” She put her hand on his sleeve. “Can we go somewhere private? To talk?”

  The Krinar, amused, simply nodded and led her away from the dance floor. He chose a room upstairs. When he opened the door, music turned on, and lights spotlighted a spacious chaise.

  She noticed the walls had sensual paintings. The thudding from the dance floor was a mere afterthought now. The room must be soundproofed. She faced him. “I hope you don’t have the wrong idea. I’m not here to seduce you or anyone.”

  His brow quirked but he remained passive with hands in pockets. “I’m listening.”

  “How old are you?”

  “Ignoring the impertinence, it’s around eight-thousand in human years.”

  Medora smiled. “Perfect.”

  “And did you want to introduce yourself?”

  Medora blushed. “I’m sorry, I’ve been very rude.”

  “Yes, you have.”

  She laughed and covered her mouth. “I’m just single-minded. I’ve fallen in love with Jerik. Do you know him?”

  The Krinar strolled to a large chair situated in a corner and sat. Crossed an ankle over his knee. “I’m very well acquainted with Jerik. My name is Sharkur and you are Ariella Rothchild.”

  She blushed again. “You recognized me on the dance floor.”

  “Only after you took off your sunglasses. I won’t alert the press you are here,” he said. “That could be disastrous for your engagement.”

  Medora’s heart fluttered. “You read the situation well, then.”

  “I’m quick like that. Why are you here, Ariella?”

  Medora licked her lips. “Jerik knows me as Medora; it’s my middle name and I reserve it for close friends,” she said. “I hope you can help me, Sharkur. And I hope we can be friends.”

  “I’m at your service.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Jaz left. Jerik felt like scrubbing his place with nano-solvents to get rid of every trace of her. Jaz was beautiful, high-end, high-maintenance, and c
ared very much about appearances.

  Jerik paced, energies inside him swirling and unsettled.

  Another pop. His head shot up to see Sharkur appear in his living room.

  Sharkur’s nostrils flared. Anger seethed over his expression.

  “Sharkur, well met.”

  “What were you doing with that slut, Jaz?”

  Jerik was taken aback. “She came uninvited. I threw her out.”

  Sharkur stared him down for a long minute. “You don’t deserve her.”

  “I don’t want her,” Jerik said, brows almost meeting. “What is this about? We agreed on a price for the clubs.”

  “I received a visit from...someone.”

  Jerik’s eyes sparked. He stepped close enough to Sharkur to smell him. Easter lilies. Rage so hot his clothes nearly incinerated raced up his spine. “Tell me you didn’t touch her, and I won’t kill you now.”

  Sharkur’s black brows raised. “So sensitive. So—dare I say it—insecure.” He made a placating gesture. “I steered her elbow with my hand. That’s all.”

  “Where. Was. She.”

  Sharkur held up both hands. “I’ve never met her before in my life. She came of her own free will.”

  Sharkur may as well have poured a bucket of ice water on his head. Jerik’s shoulders dropped.

  “Are you really this stupid?” Sharkur reached out and grabbed his shoulders. Shook him. “She came to the club for you. I helped her with her little problem, and then I came straight here to see if she was wasting her time on a thick-headed Krinar. If she was, then I was going to pick up the pieces.”

  “Your honesty is treading in dangerous waters.”

  Sharkur shrugged. “You don’t scare me, Jerik.”

  “You didn’t leave her at the club?”

  Sharkur hit him in the face. Jerik staggered back. “You’re a fucking idiot. No, I didn’t. I thought we were friends, Jerik.” Sharkur shook out his hand. “Do you think I would endanger her? Do you think I would poach your territory? Fuck your human “fiancée” for thrills?” He shook his head. “I treated her with the respect she deserves.” He sighed. “Like I said earlier. You don’t deserve her.”