Chapter Ten
Braden looked in shock at the girl sitting so happily with her friends in the café. She laughed and talked like any carefree young woman who had enough money to shop the boulevards of the Vistara and then stop for coffee with friends.
Questions poured into Braden’s head—How the hell? Are you sure? How is that possible?—but he kept his mouth closed.
Talking about it here would be a bad idea. No telling when a patroller would pop up or how well this alley was monitored. Even staring at a woman for too long could land them in the cells.
Justin gazed at Sybellie with a kind of hungry longing, a mixture of sorrow and happiness. He clearly didn’t want to leave, but when Braden nudged him, he nodded, knowing they couldn’t stay.
With one last look, Justin led Braden out to the main street again.
They didn’t speak all the way back to the train station. Braden didn’t even have the heart to wave at the patroller they’d ditched, who glared at them as they stepped onto the shielded platform.
Braden and Justin didn’t talk either during the half-hour train ride back down to Pas City. Once they disembarked, they walked out of the station and headed directly to Judith’s bar. There, Braden claimed his usual corner table, ordered two glasses of Judith’s best ale, and paid for it himself.
This early, he and Justin were the only Shareem here—Shareem liked to sleep in. Mitch was there, and Judith’s attention was all for him.
“Explanation time,” Braden said in a low voice. He paused to take a drink of fortifying ale. “When you say daughter, what exactly do you mean? DNAmo took a sample from you and mixed it with human DNA to produce a child for a rich couple?”
“No.”
The blunt syllable explained more than whole paragraphs. “But we’re sterile,” Braden said. “That’s what’s been pounded into my head my whole life. Created sterile, pumped with drugs to make sure we stay that way.”
“I guess it didn’t work with me.”
Justin’s quiet conviction made Braden’s world spin. He took another sip of ale. “Who’s her mother?”
“One of the guinea pigs.”
Guinea pigs were what Shareem had called the women who took jobs with DNAmo for sex experiments with Shareem. These women signed all kinds of forms saying they gave full consent to be used for this purpose and were paid a handsome fee in return.
Working-class women had been most likely to answer DNAmo’s ads, welcoming the extra money, while middle-class and highborn women shunned it. The DNAmo administrators insisted it wasn’t prostitution, though. It was science.
The women were mostly used to keep Shareem calm, because Shareem needed daily sexual activity in order to survive. The women also participated in experiments to see what kinds of things the scientists could program Shareem to do.
No emotional connection had been allowed between Shareem and the guinea pigs. The women were rotated frequently, and the moment the researchers suspected a guinea pig of growing too fond of her Shareem, she was removed from his section or let go altogether.
Both Shareem and the women had learned to keep any emotional tie secret. When DNAmo shut down and the Shareem escaped, a few met up with whatever guinea pig they’d formed a bond with and were able to get off planet with them before the order was given to round up the Shareem.
Justin had been shipped off to Sirius III several years before DNAmo had shut down.
“Which guinea pig?” Braden asked.
“Lillian.”
Braden thought, but couldn’t place her. “I don’t think I knew her.”
“She wasn’t in your section. She wouldn’t agree to go past level two. When she told me she was pregnant, I told her to quit and get out. If they’d found out . . .” Justin trailed off.
“Yeah, I can imagine.”
If the DNAmo scientists had found out Lillian carried a Shareem baby, they’d have either rid her of the child or done experiments on it and her—probably both. Even if the child had survived, once DNAmo shut down, the government would have hunted down Lillian and the baby the same as they had Shareem. The two wouldn’t have stood a chance.
“What happened to Lillian?” Braden asked.
Justin studied his ale. “She had the child, obviously. She carried Sybellie herself instead of using an artificial incubator, not unusual for a working-class woman. That kept too many doctors and techs away from the baby. When Sybellie was born, Lillian managed to get a message to me on Sirius—told me she’d had a daughter and that she’d given her up for adoption. A rich family on the Vistara had taken her. Lillian didn’t explain why she hadn’t kept Sybellie, but I can imagine. Lillian had no money, and questions would come up about who the father was—you know how the ministries are. I don’t know who Lillian told people he was. She must have made up something, maybe said he was an off-worlder.”
“You could find Lillian and ask her.”
Justin ran his fingers along his chilled glass. “Lillian’s gone. I’ve looked for her, but there’s no record of her. She’s either dead or off planet.”
Braden frowned. “How can there be no record of her? This is Bor Narga, home to the most record-happy people in the universe.”
“She could have smuggled herself out. Changed her name. I don’t know. She dropped out of sight. Maybe she thought it would be safer for Sybellie if she left, and she was probably right. Lillian, she was a sweet person. The self-sacrificing type, always concerned with the welfare of others before herself.”
“Then how did you find out that the girl we saw was Sybellie?”
“Records.” Justin gave Braden a faint smile. “Kept by the record-happy Bor Nargans. I looked up adoptions on the Vistara in the database kept by the Ministry of Children and Families.”
“Because, hey, they let Shareem search that all the time.”
Justin’s smile grew stronger. “I wouldn’t say they let me. Let’s just say I got access. There aren’t many adoptions done on the Vistara—they’re snobbier than the highborns about bloodlines. But I found the adoption record dated about the time Lillian got the message to me. And when I saw Sybellie in the flesh, I knew she was the one. She’s the spitting image of Lillian.” His look turned fond.
“Not to be a pain in the ass,” Braden said slowly, “but are you sure you’re the father?”
Justin didn’t look offended. “Lillian could have lied to me—I thought of that. But what would it benefit her to tell me I’d gotten her pregnant? She had to quit her job, and lost income because of it—they paid the guinea pigs pretty well. If the father was another Shareem, what would Lillian gain by telling me Sybellie was mine? I couldn’t do any more for her than any other Shareem could—I couldn’t help her at all. Neither of us had any idea at the time that I’d be sent to Sirius III, and when I was, I was cut off from all communications with dear old Bor Narga. Lillian had no obligation to tell me anything, no obligation to get word to me when Sybellie was born. She told me to be fair to me, because she knew I’d want to know.”
“She could have been mistaken.”
Justin shook his head. “The Ministry database had a record of the minute of Sybellie’s birth. I counted backwards. Gestation periods, even when the woman carries the baby herself, are exact for Bor Nargans—the science Bor Narga is so fond of has made sure of that. Nine months to the day, the kids come out whether they want to or not. The week Sybellie was conceived, Lillian stayed with me twenty-four seven.” Justin smiled in remembrance. “It was one hell of a week.”
Braden sat back and blew out his breath. What Justin had told him just changed the world.
If the Bor Nargan government discovered that Shareem seed was viable, what would they do? Round up all Shareem to ensure that no seed ever got out?
And what the hell would they do if they found out young Sybellie had been fathered by a hated Shareem?
Braden thought about Sybellie’s pretty face in the rose-colored veils, the way she’d chatted so happily with her friend
s. Her future was finishing university and moving on to a profession, taking a husband, planning for children. Moving into her own house on the Vistara, browsing the markets to find the perfect decorations. An easy life, one without fear and strain.
But not if her father was a Shareem.
If anyone found out Sybellie carried Shareem DNA, her life would become hell. At best she’d be exiled, but most likely she’d be experimented on or even terminated and dissected. Her innocence would be ripped from her in one swift stroke.
This was dangerous, dangerous knowledge.
Braden glanced around, but the bar was still empty. He didn’t fear listening devices, because Judith swept the place for them every day and removed them, and the patrollers seemed to have given up putting them there. Got tired of hearing the flush of Judith’s waste disposer, Braden figured.
“Does Sybellie know any of this?” Braden asked.
“Gods, no. I’m sure she’s been brought up to despise Shareem—if she even knows we exist.”
“Then if you can’t talk to her, if she’ll never even know about you—why did you come back?”
“To see her.” Justin’s face softened. “I just wanted to see her.”
Shit.
Braden took another gulp of ale. “So what are you going to do?”
“I don’t know.”
“You know you can’t leave Bor Narga again. You gave up your whole life for the chance of a few glimpses of your daughter from across a street?”
“Yep.”
Before Braden had met Elisa, he’d have thought Justin insane. But now Braden felt a sharp tug of longing. To be bonded to someone like that, even if he could never have her, would be sweet, something to hold on to. Forever.
Braden remembered the taste of Elisa’s cheek as he’d kissed her good-bye before he’d slipped away.
Would he give up everything in his life just to be able to look at her from across a street?
I would.
Damn it all.
How in the name of all the gods did this happen to me?
*** *** ***
Braden left Justin, who said he wanted to linger, and went back home. He nodded politely to Kamile, the woman who ran the fruit shop across the street, and keyed open the door, troubling thoughts chasing through his head.
Shareem were bred to fuck, not think. The problem was, Shareem now had too much time to think, and it hurt, stirring the emotions they weren’t supposed to have.
Braden stripped to his loincloth and lounged back on his sofa, swinging his monitor around to tap in Elisa’s call number. “Hey, sweetheart,” he said.
Elisa’s face filled the screen, sleepy, hair mussed. She blinked. “Braden. Where are you?”
“Home.”
“I thought . . . Why didn’t you stay with me this morning?”
Braden gave her a smile, as though he hadn’t just been shocked out of his mind by Justin’s revelation.
“To make you ask me back,” he said.
This was the moment of truth. Braden tensed, a trickle of sweat running down his back.
Would she want more, or decide to end it right here? Would they continue the game another day, or would Braden never see her again?
Didn’t matter that Braden was level three. Elisa was in charge, and he knew it.
Elisa wet her lips, that sexy gesture he already loved. “Will you come back?” she asked.
“That didn’t sound very enthusiastic, sweetheart. More like asking if I felt like going out for a walk.”
Elisa flushed. She looked so sweet and beddable. “Braden, I would like you to come back to my house.”
Good, good, good.
“I need more than that, darling.”
Damn, this sucked. Braden knew how to make women beg for him—he was an expert—so why was he now worried about pushing Elisa too hard? What was he, a gentle Dom?
Elisa’s blush deepened but so did the need in her eyes. “Please come back, Braden.”
“I’ll consider it.”
Elisa looked puzzled. “But—I hired you.”
Braden cut the connection. It killed him to do it, but this was the game. The woman had to want him. She had to make herself believe the fiction that the Shareem was in control—of all her needs and her sexual satisfaction.
His console softly chimed. Braden let it for a moment, let her panic, thinking he wouldn’t answer.
“What is it, sweet thing?” he asked when he turned it back on.
“What happened? Why did we cut off?”
“I cut you off, love. I have some rules. I don’t want to hear any talk about hiring. I choose who I go to, and that’s final. All right?”
“Oh.” Elisa blushed, but a spark entered her eye. Good, she wasn’t the easily cowed type. “I beg your pardon. I didn’t mean to offend you.”
Wasn’t she precious?
“You beg me to return, and I’ll consider it. Then you thank the gods I’m not like Calder. He never let a lady in a second time. Ever.”
“But I don’t want to be with Calder. I want to be with you.”
Damn it, she was breaking his heart. Braden didn’t want his heart breaking.
“I said, I’ll consider it,” Braden said, pretending to sound hard-ass. “This time, I bring a collar.”
“Collar? What for?”
“To keep you close to me, sweetheart. And other things.”
Curiosity glowed in her eyes, but he saw that Elisa would be too polite to let on she was interested. He’d have to change that.
“Braden,” she said. “Please come back.”
As a plea, it wasn’t much good. She didn’t sound desperate, but Braden saw what was in her eyes. Elisa wanted this.
And for some reason, her quiet, Please come back, caught at him far more than had the words the last little off-worlder had screamed at him—”Braden, please! I need you.”
“Braden?”
Braden flashed Elisa a smile. “I’m thinking about it, love.”
“No, I mean, is something wrong? You look . . . troubled.”
Troubled? What troubles did Braden have? Yeah, well, maybe he’d just found out that Justin had returned to Bor Narga looking for his daughter, for the gods’ sake. Opening a whole new can of worms for Shareem.
Justin having a kid proved Shareem weren’t naturally sterile. So what would happen if Braden missed his shots? Would his seed impregnate the first woman he went to—maybe the beautiful one on his vid screen right now?
Or would it take a while for the effects of years of shots to wear off? Or had the inoculations done permanent damage?
Or maybe Justin was an aberration, a failed experiment.
“Braden? Is everything all right?” Elisa’s voice radiated concern. Sweet thing.
“Everything’s fine.” Braden gave her a tight smile.
He knew Elisa knew he lied. Her expression told him so. She knew something was wrong but she wasn’t going to push it, not on an open channel, may the gods bless her.
“Very well,” Elisa said. “I’ll wait.” She quickly tapped the button to break the call.
Braden blew out his breath and touched the screen where her face had been. This was getting bad, and getting bad fast.
*** *** ***
Elisa stopped at the singing sphere in the hall and touched it. Its beautiful notes sang out, filling the hall like musical sunshine.
“Legends say that the crystals used to be alive,” a deep male voice said close behind her. “Eons ago, before humans ever landed here. Then they went dark, and now only the best artists know the secret of how to make them live again.”
Elisa tried to turn around, but Braden’s hard arms came around her and kept her in place. Her heart beat swiftly, the delight that he’d come to her matching the beauty of the music.
“I like to think about that sometimes,” Braden went on. “The crystals inside the caves, lit up, each ringing with a different note but working in harmony. It must have been beautiful.”
/> “It’s beautiful now,” Elisa said.
Braden kissed the back of her neck then Elisa felt something supple but strong encircle her throat.
She reached up and touched a leather collar as Braden lowered a thin chain down her back. The cool metal touched her through the silk of her sleeveless sheath.
“This is beautiful.” Braden kissed Elisa’s skin above the collar. “My librarian. In chains.”
Chapter Eleven
She looked good enough to lick. Elisa in her simple dress, her hair pulled into a knot, and the slim band around her throat made a fine picture. The chain whispered when she moved. So satisfying.
Braden wanted to lean her into the wall, strip off her clothes, and slide inside her. Now. He needed her.
But he knew he should go slowly with her. Level three didn’t mean diving into raw sex whether the lady liked it or not. Level three meant taking care of his lover, giving her what she needed. Sometimes she needed it hard and fast, sometimes easy and slow.
Braden moved his cock between her buttocks, the friction nice even through layers of clothing between them.
“Take this off.” Braden undid the catch that held her sheath in place.
Elisa slid the fabric from her shoulders without asking questions. That little act of obedience made his heart beat faster.
“And this.”
Braden touched the underwear that hugged her hips even as he pressed a kiss to her bare back.
That made her hesitate, but finally Elisa unfastened them and let them fall. Braden ran his hand down her front, easing fingers across her clit. Wet, very wet.
“You stay bare for me,” he said. “Until I say.”
Elisa nodded, her stance tense. Braden wrapped the chain around his hand and pulled her gently back into him. He kissed her neck, giving her little nips up and down it.
While Elisa closed her eyes, relaxing, Braden flicked his thumb over her clit, then drew his fingers down either side of her opening.
He rubbed the wiry hair between her legs. “I need to shave you.”
Her eyes popped open. “Why?”
Tales of the Shareem, Volume 2 Page 26
