Yet there was a reticence to Tasha that bothered him. Obviously she would not share her innermost thoughts and secrets on a first date, but he felt she kept herself closed off. She seemed to be holding back more than she should. She answered their questions with short, sometimes meaningless replies and then distracted them with questions of her own. Rolat got the feeling Tasha tried to keep them talking about themselves so she didn’t have to share much.
She gently grilled Wal even now. “Tell me what kind of cases you deal with if you’re not serving justice to the mentally incompetent?”
Rolat’s Imdiko gave her a bland smile. “I get the ones that involve threats to the Empire or leaders of Kalquor. In recent years I’ve sat on a panel that had to decide the fate of a decorated war hero who had become a serial killer, which was most unpleasant.”
Rolat let Wal’s voice drone into the background. It wasn’t that he didn’t find his clanmate’s work interesting or that he didn’t respect what Wal had to say. He already knew the story the Imdiko judge shared, knew it inside and out. If Tasha was going to continue to gloss over her own background, there seemed to be little point in attending the conversation so closely.
He glanced at the Earther male playing the violin. The man was young, his face almost as pretty as a girl’s. He was the exact opposite of Kalquorian men; fair-skinned, blonde, blue-eyed. The slender youth stood barely taller than Tasha. For the Kalquorian men who couldn’t hope to clan or for the clans who preferred males to females, Earther men had become as welcome in the Empire as their female lifebearer counterparts. The homosexual Earthers, as repressed as the women, were finding loving homes in the Empire. No doubt this young man had been courted by some Kalquorian man or men and given a new life away from his own kind’s persecution.
Rolat looked at Tasha. Like most Kalquorian men he was bisexual, enjoying the company of males and females. With his clan’s rank, he hoped to attract a Matara to their unit though Kalquorian women were rare. His clan being picked for the lottery had enhanced their chances greatly, allowing them to compete for the Earther women.
Being in the company of the lovely Tasha was a chance that could not be allowed to pass them by. Yet Rolat’s thoughts kept roaming to the lookalike sister, the one who had threatened to turn the Nobek and his clanmates into women if they didn’t treat Tasha with respect. Remembering that almost made Rolat laugh out loud right there and then. He contained his amusement with great difficulty.
If only Tasha would show more of that spirit instead of the quiet politeness she’d worn all evening! Rolat wanted to wonder if his dinner companion would be exciting in bed ... but instead, he wondered that about Cissy. By the ancestors, he could already imagine her naked after seeing her in that barely-there soaksuit. The fantasy of that body beneath his, perhaps struggling against him in an effort to be on top ... his mouth went dry and his cocks swelled. Rolat was sure Cissy might try to fight him for superior position. The thrill of gaining the surrender of such a woman was too enticing to dismiss easily. Pinning Cissy down, her bountiful breasts heaving with effort, her eyes wide as she realized she had no choice but to be dominated by him—
Diltan’s none-too-gentle kick to his ankle beneath the table brought Rolat out of his fantasy. The Nobek was abruptly aware that his Dramok, Wal, and Tasha all looked at him. Tasha’s smile was expectant, not that challenging smirk Cissy had worn. She must have asked him one of her many questions, he thought.
Rolat cleared his throat, his face heating with embarrassment. “Please excuse me, Matara. I’m afraid Wal bored me to the point that I tuned out. I’ve heard all his stories, you see.”
The Imdiko scowled at him. “That’s right, Rolat. Show her what a jerk you are.”
The Nobek gave Wal a slow wink to placate his sensitive clanmate. Wal snorted, but the crease between his brows eased, letting Rolat know the slight was forgiven.
Rolat couldn’t resist teasing just a little. “If it makes you feel any better, you’re not half as boring as Diltan.”
“Yes, I know. No one is.” Wal’s smile filled with devilish delight as he joined in on the fun. The chance to dig at their Dramok was never one to be resisted by the Imdiko.
As Diltan gave them both a warning frown, Tasha tittered behind her hand. “Boys, boys. Behave yourselves or you get no dessert.”
Rolat grinned at her. She might not be the livewire Cissy was, but Tasha was a good sport. He inclined his head in respect. “Please forgive my rudeness, Tasha. What did you ask?”
“I asked how much you have to travel as the head of all the Empire’s prisons and work camps.”
“Speaking of boring,” Diltan snorted.
Rolat agreed, but he ignored his Dramok and politely answered. “I travel for work as much as possible. We Nobeks don’t tend to do well behind desks, so any excuse to go to the facilities in person is a good excuse in my book.”
Tasha hid her mouth behind her hand to giggle again. Her tendency to do that made Rolat feel she masked more than just her smile. Yet he could hardly imagine what a placid, sweet girl like her could have to hide.
* * * *
Diltan poured them all another round of bohut, which he was glad Tasha liked to drink. He felt this initial appointment with the Earther was going well. He chalked up the boredom he felt to the painful necessity of getting to know someone for the first time.
Tasha had good breeding written all over her. Quiet and polite, she was as well-mannered as Diltan could hope for in a potential mate. Tasha was nothing like her too-bold sister, thank the ancestors.
Once more Diltan was forced to wonder how two women, raised side by side since birth, could be so monumentally different. He also wondered how outrageously Cissy would have behaved had it been her they’d brought to the restaurant. What would she have replaced that scandalous little soaksuit with for a night out?
Every time Diltan saw Cissy, she wore something inappropriate. First had been the casual and mannish outfit she’d come to Kalquor in. Then all that flesh this evening!
But he couldn’t think about that, not when remembering all that luscious flesh got him as hard as a hormonally-charged youngling. That Cissy had such an effect on him irritated Diltan to no end.
So she’s wonderful to look at. What of it? Doesn’t that mean Tasha will be every bit as enticing when she isn’t covered so modestly? This is the perfect one; the one who looks so classy in public and possibly erotic in private.
Yet no matter how hard he tried, Diltan couldn’t imagine Tasha naked. Every time he tried, he saw fiery-eyed Cissy in the blue soaksuit ... with that handprint on her smooth flank and cock-cutting smile on her face.
Diltan felt sure Tasha was witty and strong in her own right. She had to be ... all the liveliness Cissy exhibited had to be present in Tasha as well. Right?
Yet his date didn’t strike him as daring. There was more than just a hint of caution to Tasha, almost as if she’d erected some invisible barrier between herself and Diltan’s clan. She might have the same face as Cissy, but Diltan couldn’t visualize her with any of her sister’s exuberance or spunk.
Diltan mentally shook his head at himself. What did it matter if Tasha was proper? That was what he wanted anyway. He did not want to clan an outrageous Matara who would balk him at every turn. Certainly he did not want a lifemate who threatened to rip his dicks off.
Tasha was a perfectly nice woman, one who would be an asset to Diltan’s public life. Given time, he might even find that she was indeed the woman for his clan.
Chapter 7
By the time Cissy peeled her eyelids apart the next day, the morning was almost done. Yawning hugely, she made herself get up, throw on a robe, and trudge to her tiny kitchen. Minutes later she went through the door connecting her apartment to her sister’s, carrying two cups of coffee. She was slow in waking but made herself alert for any sign that Tasha had not come home alone.
There were no puddles of clothing thrown off in mad desire as Cissy made the short tr
ip to Tasha’s bedroom. The only apparel she had to step over consisted of her sister’s skirt and blouse ensemble the night before, which Tasha had dropped carelessly on the floor. One form huddled under the covers on the sleeping mat. Cissy set the cups down on the bedside shelf next to a silver-framed picture of her parents. She gave their beaming images a sad smile, missing her mother and father even though years had passed since their deaths. The boating accident that had taken the elder Salters’ lives had occurred while the twins were away at college. Jessica and Lindsey, along with their parents Tara and Aaron, had been their strength during that sad time. The McInness family had taken the weight of funeral arrangements off the shoulders of the grieving twins. Auntie Tara had even identified the bodies, taking on that awful responsibility and sparing Cissy and Tasha any memory that would ruin the one of a happy, lively couple.
Cissy straightened, putting the past where it belonged. Her mother and father would have been devastated to think they would ever cause her any pain. It was best to think of the full, joyful lives they had managed to have under the shadow of an often paranoid government. They had lived well, proving it was the spirit that made for a good existence, more so than the circumstances that surrounded it.
Cissy yawned again. She wrinkled her nose at the window vid that gave the illusion of a flowering garden right outside Tasha’s room – even though they were six floors off the ground level. Cissy wished the rooms had real windows, though she understood how well vids conserved energy. While well-ventilated, it would be nice to open a window and have a breeze float through the room.
Needing caffeine to improve her mood, Cissy set about bouncing on Tasha’s bed. “Wakie, wakie! Rise and shine, give the world your glow, you precious sunbeam!”
“Bitch,” the mound under the covers muttered. It curled into a tight ball.
Cissy stopped bouncing. “I brought coffee.”
Tasha sat up and reached her hand out with her eyes still closed. “Give me.”
Cissy laughed and handed the goods over, careful to not slop hot java. Tasha woke in as good a mood as her sister did. And looks twice as bad, Cissy thought to herself, hoping it was true but suspecting otherwise. Tasha’s perfect coif from the night before was now a snarled bird’s nest, sticking up all over the place. Cissy put her hands to her own head to check on how her mane had fared after the night.
Nope. Her tangles felt as if they were much worse than Tasha’s. Cissy patted at the mess in a vain attempt to calm it before reaching for her cup of coffee.
Tasha didn’t start drinking right away. As always, she inhaled the steam rising from her cup with pleasure before taking that first glorious sip. She grimaced with semi-happiness and her eyes slitted open. “You may return in an hour, and only then if you bring more.”
Cissy crossed her legs in a lotus position, getting comfortable on her sister’s bed. “Forget it. I’m dying to hear about your date last night.”
Tasha’s eyes opened a little more, her interest piqued. “Why? Was yours that boring?”
Cissy waved a dismissive hand. “We had a good time. Lemanthev concerts don’t allow for much conversation, though. I can’t say I got to know the clan I was with, but I do like the raw energy of that tribal-sounding stuff. I went more for the music than the company, in all honesty. So, that’s about it from me. What about that Clan Diltan? Were they as stuffy and boring as they looked?”
Actually, none of the three men had looked stuffy to Cissy’s eyes, not even Diltan. Nor boring. In particular, the Nobek had caught Cissy’s attention. Rolat had been an amazing eyeful of rough and ready. Big, bold, and delicious. Cissy had entertained the fantasy of grabbing him by the wonderfully muscled arm and dragging him to her bed. So what if he wasn’t the gorgeous equal of his Dramok? Cissy found such men much more fascinating to look at than the handsome ones.
Not that Diltan was conventionally handsome. He was gorgeous, damn the man. Someone needed to break his nose, just to steal some of that perfection away. Cissy thought that if he ever asked for volunteers, she’d be glad to offer her services.
Even quiet Wal had not committed the sin of being one-dimensionally pleasing to the eye. He was attractive, just nice enough to pass the gaze over. However, there had been the flash of a grin once, before the three men had seen Cissy in the pool – and then he’d been quite stunning, in an intelligent, sweetly nerdy way.
As Cissy mused about her sister’s dates, Tasha said, “They were okay. I don’t think we connected, but they were nice enough.”
Trying to sound unconcerned and believing she pulled it off, Cissy asked, “Do you think you’ll see them again?”
Tasha shrugged. She took a deep swallow of her coffee before answering. “I don’t know. They aren’t bad, but ... I don’t know. I might give it another shot. They all have that rank and status these Kalquorians are so crazy to show off.”
“That’s true.” A councilman, the director of the Empire’s prison system, and a judge. Rank out the wazoo, Cissy thought. If Tasha joined Clan Diltan, she’d never want for anything. If they could make her sister happy, Cissy would even try to be nice to Diltan on holidays and special occasions.
Thinking this, she told her twin, “You never know, Tash. Dramok Snooty and his boys might be your happily-ever-after.”
Tasha made a face. “It makes me feel bad that they only get to try five gals before they get shut out of the lottery. That’s not a lot of opportunity, is it? I suppose I should see them again. Maybe.”
Tasha was clearly ambivalent about Clan Diltan. Only her typical kindness made her consider seeing them again. It would probably be a waste of her time.
There’s no harm in them coming around one or two more times though, Cissy thought. So they were uppity. They were still decent eye candy for her to enjoy as long as Tasha remained willing to give them a chance. Unlike the men, Tasha had no limits on the clans she could entertain before making a final decision.
Cissy wondered if a trio like Clan Diltan ever cut loose and had real fun. It was hard to imagine Diltan or his bookish-looking Imdiko attending a lemanthev concert. Rolat probably would like that sort of thing. Or maybe his clanmates had drained all the hedonism out of the big burly beast.
And why for heaven’s sake was she thinking about Clan Diltan so much?
They were not on Cissy’s list of potential suitors, at least not that she’d seen. Then again, she hadn’t looked at her prospects in about the last month either. Had Clan Diltan joined the lottery since that time? If they’d been there before, Cissy knew for a fact they weren’t on the first screen that held her most compatible choices.
What the hell, even her compatibility score was a joke. The lottery questionnaire had been an hours-long task, one Cissy hadn’t taken seriously for an instant. When Tasha discovered Cissy was posting sarcastic answers, she’d taken over her unrepentant twin’s profile. There was no telling what responsible Tasha had written about Cissy.
No doubt Tasha would have done her best to represent Cissy in a positive light, one that would attract the best possible clan. Cissy told herself it was for the same reason that she was interested in Clan Diltan on Tasha’s behalf. Her twin deserved mates who were successful and could funnel some of their prestige and money into Tasha’s dreams for the future. Tasha had been an interior decorator back on Earth, but she’d dreamed of being an architect using sustainable materials. Crowded, polluted Earth had needed people with such skills. Earth was gone, but with Kalquor’s insistence on pristine natural settings, their new home seemed the perfect place to study eco-friendly building. Tasha just needed the funds and schooling to pursue that wish. She was too proud to ask Jessica for such assistance, though their cousin would have surely given it to her. Tasha wanted to be a part of a clan to which she could repay any contribution made. Surely the finances of a councilman, judge, and head of an entire governmental department would allow for that.
First, Tasha had to get off her duff and be serious about finding a clan. She had
been ambivalent about settling down all of her adult life. She was reticent given even the repressive rules on Earth when it came to interactions with the opposite sex. Tasha had never gone on more than one date with the same man. The last five years they’d lived on Earth, she hadn’t dated at all. Cissy had wondered if her sister was determined to be an old maid.
However, Tasha had been an absolute beast for sex on the Kalquorian transport – yet just like on Earth, she rarely saw the same men twice. She had shown no real interest in ever settling down. That Tasha had entered the lottery had been a surprise to Cissy. As cousin to the empress, she would have been allowed to stay on Kalquor without searching for clanmates.
If her sister held true to form, Cissy had the feeling Tasha would never see Clan Diltan again. That was too bad given what they could offer her. Plus it was fun to needle those guys. Making Diltan look horrified could have provided no end of amusement for Cissy. However, she couldn’t push Tasha to see three men just to provide her with entertainment.
Cissy mentally shrugged her shoulders, not thinking too hard about the stab of regret she felt. Maybe Tasha would make good on her guilty feelings to allow another date with the councilman’s clan. In the end, it came down to one thing: it was Tasha’s life and therefore her call.
* * * *
Two weeks later
Diltan sighed. His head sank down to where his arms folded on the surface of his desk. His head throbbed.
As with many things men aspired to gain, Diltan’s latest reward had turned out nothing like he had hoped. The honor of reviewing the late Imperial Father Zarl’s records truly was an honor. It was also sheer drudgery.
Diltan had known the review would have its share of boredom. After all, Zarl had been part of the Empire’s ruling clan for over 80 years. Only the months that followed the shuttle crash that claimed Empress Irdis’ life and caused Zarl horrific injuries had interrupted his reign. Even then, he had ruled from his bed with his son Clajak speaking on his behalf when needed.
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