Descended

by Evangeline Anderson

  At last it did though, and I felt myself collapsing, panting and gasping, into the still-warm water.

  Kristoff caught me and lowered me gently, letting my head rest on the edge as the soothing liquid lapped all around me. He stripped off the gloves without a word and rinsed me, his bare hands on my flesh this time, deliberate and possessive.

  I purred with sleepy pleasure and arched under his touch as he cupped and stroked my breasts and caressed gently but firmly between my thighs. This was what I had been needing—the release I had been aching for almost from the first time he’d touched me and held me.

  Why couldn’t it be him? I thought drowsily as I felt his big, warm hands sliding deliberately up and down my naked body. Why couldn’t Kristoff be my Consort? Who cares about status or rank or caste or whatever it is they make such a big deal about here?

  It was Kristoff who had come for me back on Earth. Kristoff who had protected me. Kristoff who had saved me again and again, risking his own life to do so. I knew the desire I felt for him was supposed to fade when the effects of the blood I had given him wore off but it wasn’t—my feelings for him were only getting stronger.

  “Kristoff,” I murmured as he lifted me out of the tub and began toweling me off with a big, warm, fluffy piece of blue fabric. “Why does it have to be this way?”

  “What way, my Lady?” He sat me on the edge of the tub with the towel around my shoulders and began combing out the tangles in my hair gently and expertly.

  “Why do I have to pick some other guy—some other male—as my Consort?” I asked, frowning. “I don’t want to be with some stranger—I want to be with you. Why can’t we be together like Sundalla the 887th and her Guard were?”

  His face grew grave.

  “Never say that, Charlotte,” he said, shaking his head. “You’re a Goddess and I’m nothing but a commoner. The idea of the Goddess-Empress mated to any but a Royal is sacrilege—blasphemy of the highest order.”

  “But why? Who says?” I demanded. “Why should they get to decide who I marry, er, mate with? You said you thought half of them are in Morbain’s pocket anyway.” I had a sudden thought. “You know, if I could shake hands with them or touch them in some way, I might be able to find that out. My touch-sense usually tells me if someone is friend or foe.”

  He frowned. “It is forbidden for the Empress to have physical contact with the Council of Wisdom. The law states there must remain between them a divide, in order to preserve the balance of male and female powers.”

  It was my turn to frown. “There sure are a lot of rules about who I can and can’t touch around here. Not to mention who I get to spend my life with.” I looked at him again. “Kristoff…”

  “Don’t speak of taking me as your Consort again.” His eyes were hard and his face was stern. “For your own safety, I beg you my Lady—put the thought far from your mind.”

  How can I? I wanted to say. When your hands on me feel so right…so good? But at the look on his face, the words stuck in my throat.

  “I still don’t think it’s right,” I said as he finished with my hair and started rubbing some kind of cool, green gel over the scratches I’d gotten from the exploding mug. “And…I don’t feel those, uh, cravings Dr. Churika said would fade getting any less. If anything they’re stronger than ever.”

  He frowned. “She will be here tomorrow to attend you after the Trials of Ascendancy. We can ask for a prescription to cool your lust then.”

  “It’s not just lust,” I protested. “I want to be with you—want to touch you. To feel you hold me like you did that first night.” I looked at him pleadingly. “Could we do that again tonight? I mean, sleep in the same bed together?”

  He looked indecisive as he capped the jar of gel and put it away. “I shouldn’t…if word got out it would be devastating to your reputation.”

  “But you’re here to protect me,” I pointed out. “And I’d feel so much safer if you were right there with me. Also, you had the other guard sweep the place for bugs, right? So who’s going to know?”

  “I’ll know,” he said in a low voice and sighed.

  “What does that mean?” I asked, frowning.

  “Never mind.” He shook his head. “If it would ease your mind for me to share your bed tonight, my Lady, then I will serve you in that capacity gladly.”

  “It would.” I thought longingly of how good it felt to be wrapped in his muscular arms—of how safe and warm I felt. No one could hurt me when Kristoff was holding me like that—I was sure of it. “It really would,” I repeated, though I doubted he would actually hold me. Still, just having him near would be comforting.

  “Very well.” He picked me up, towel and all, and carried me into another room like a sleepy child. By now I was getting used to being carried all around by him and I didn’t even protest. I just rested my head on his broad, bare chest and breathed him in—that warm, masculine, spicy scent that was uniquely Kristoff.

  I thought of how much I loved feeling safe in his arms. It had seemed so alien and strange to me the first time I was close to him but now it represented safety and security. I knew to my bones that when I was in Kristoff’s arms, I was being held by a male who would kill or die to protect me—who would spend his last breath keeping me from harm.

  I was almost asleep, worn out with the intense pleasure he’d given me and the crazy events of the day. I woke up a little though, when he set me down on a vast bed covered in a shimmering, coverlet of rich scarlet.

  “Hey, don’t leave me,” I protested sleepily as he left the bed and went to rummage in a large ornate armoire-looking piece of furniture on the other side of the room.

  “I’m just getting you something to sleep in, my Lady,” he said. “It wouldn’t be proper for us to sleep in the nude together, as we did when you had the Burning Blood.”

  I sighed unhappily. Being naked with him was exactly what I wanted—what my body craved. But I wasn’t surprised that it wasn’t allowed. Now that we were on Femme One, the rules seemed to be different—different and much stricter.

  “Okay,” I said. “But I don’t want to wear a pair of granny panties and a flannel gown just to be proper. I can’t stand being hot while I sleep.”

  “I will bear it in mind. Although I have no idea what ‘granny panties’ are,” he rumbled.

  “Just find something light, please,” I said. “I’m a Florida girl—I don’t do heavy PJs. In fact, I usually just sleep in an old t-shirt.”

  “Very well.”

  Kristoff pressed a hidden button on the side of the tall, carved armoire—which looked surprisingly like a piece antique of furniture you might find on Earth. Suddenly a glowing holo-pad made of red light appeared on its side. It had lots of squiggly looking characters I supposed must be an alien alphabet.

  Kristoff had explained to me how the Commercians had been sending translation and immunization viruses down to Earth through the hole in our ozone layer. The viruses enabled me to understand just about any spoken language in the galaxy but apparently that was only good for speaking—reading was another story.

  Great, was I really going to have to learn to read all over again in a different language? I supposed so. After all, I could hardly be expected to rule over these people if I was illiterate in their written language. Just another thing to add to my growing list…

  Prove I’m the real Empress—check. Rule the known galaxy—check. Try not to fall in love with my hot Guard—check. Learn a whole new language— Wait a minute… Was I really falling in love with Kristoff?

  If I was, I’d better stop it now, at least according to Kristoff and everyone else I’d talked to.

  It’s nothing, I told myself uneasily. It’s just a side-effect from giving him that blood transfusion.

  But if so, why wasn’t it fading? Why did I want to be with him more, not less? Why—

  A soft beeping sound from the armoire cut off my troubled musings and I saw Kristoff open one wooden door and pull a white, silky garment
he had apparently ordered by tapping into the holographic keyboard.

  Okay, so maybe the armoire wasn’t so Earth-like and antique-y after all.

  “Here, my Lady.” He came over to the bed, holding the garment. “Take off your towel and lift your arms,” he said.

  Obediently, I did as he said, waiting like a child to be dressed. I would really have to be careful, I was getting used to being pampered and taken care of by my muscular alien bodyguard. If I didn’t watch it, I’d forget how to get dressed and brush my hair and take a bath on my own.

  Not that I’d mind forgetting if Kristoff is taking care of me, I thought as he slid the light, white garment over my head. It continued to amaze me how he could fight off would-be assassins and stand up to the Council of Wisdom one minute and then be gentle enough to bathe me and comb out the tangles in my hair the next. He’d said he was trained to protect and to serve but it still seemed strange that such a huge, alien warrior could be so gentle and tender.

  “Is this garment to your liking, my Lady?” he murmured, breaking my train of thought.

  “Oh…” I looked down at what I was wearing. It was a kind of nightdress with spaghetti straps and it came down to my mid thighs. The fabric it was made of had the delicacy and richness of silk and the lightness of thin cotton. I ran my hand over it delightedly, feeling the ultra-soft material whisper under my fingertips. It was lovely.

  “My Lady?” He raised an eyebrow.

  “Yes, thank you, Kristoff. It’s perfect.” I smiled at him and then had to smother a yawn. “Oh, I’m sorry. Suddenly I feel like I can hardly keep my eyes open.”

  “It’s been a long day. A very long day.” He sighed wearily. “Well, let’s tuck you in.”

  “And you too,” I said, frowning as he started to peel back the rich crimson spread, revealing silky silver sheets beneath.

  He frowned. “Actually, I thought it might be best if I slept on top of the covers while you sleep underneath.”

  “What? No!” I protested before I could stop myself. “No, you’ll…you’ll be cold,” I said, trying to explain my sudden outburst. “I don’t want that. It’s better if we sleep under the covers together. Unless…” I bit my lip, looking up at him. “I mean, unless you don’t, uh, want to.”

  He sighed and raked a hand through his hair.

  “No, I do want to, Charlotte,” he said in a low voice. “But I shouldn’t.”

  “Who’s going to know?” I asked again. “Just you and me and we won’t tell anyone—all right? What happens on Femme One, stays on Femme One—right?”

  He threw me an uncomprehending look which made me feel dumb—of course my cultural reference had gone right over his head. But then he shrugged and nodded.

  “As you wish, my Lady. I will sleep beneath the covers with you but I still think it would be better to limit our contact.”

  “All right.” I sighed. It seemed to be the best I was going to get. Not that I was surprised—though I was a little hurt.

  “Let me ready myself for sleep,” Kristoff said.

  He went back to the armoire. This time it produced a pair of long, black sleeping trousers that seemed to be made of a slightly heavier, silkier material than my light nightdress—almost like satin.

  Kristoff turned his back to me and pulled off the rest of his uniform before pulling them on. Then he got in the vast, comfortable bed beside me and murmured, “Lights out.”

  At once the room was plunged into darkness.

  I bit back a little cry, feeling suddenly all alone in the strange, alien room and the vast bed. Though Kristoff was beside me, he was an arm’s length away. Now that I couldn’t see him again, I felt suddenly cold and alone.

  I huddled beneath the rich blanket thinking how everything here felt wrong. The sheets were too heavy and silky compared to my cheap cotton ones back home and the pillow was much too puffy, compared to the flat one back on my Earth bed. It even smelled wrong—kind of like an expensive hotel room I knew I couldn’t afford, if that makes any sense.

  I thought longingly of my bedroom back on Earth—who knew how many hundreds of light years away. Of my internship, which I would never finish. Of Sebastian, who was snarky but still a good friend and of Zoe and Leah who were far, far away. Kristoff had told me, during our journey, that my two good friends had both been taken off Earth as well, by other alien males. Supposedly they were both happy now, on another planet at the far opposite end of the galaxy. I hoped to be able to see them at some point but for now, they were light years from me, just like Earth was.

  I’ve never been so far from home in my life, I thought and felt a hot tear trickle down the side of my nose. And it’s not even my home anymore. For all I know, I’ll never see it again…

  The thought made me cry more as a debilitating wave of homesickness hit me. I put my fist to my mouth and tried to muffle my sobs but I couldn’t hold back and soon my shoulders were shaking with them. Great—so much for being cold and logical like a Vulcan. This was my second time crying in less than two hours—I was in real danger of turning into a girly-girl here. The kind of girl who cried at sad movies and those awful animal abuse prevention commercials.

  It made me feel so weak—I hated to be weak. And yet I still couldn’t stop crying.

  Suddenly I heard Kristoff shift in the bed beside me.

  “Charlotte,” he said, soft and low. “Are you unwell?”

  “I…I’m fine,” I said, trying to make my voice sound strong and certain. Instead, my words wavered all over the place and ended in a sob.

  “No, you’re not. Come here.”

  He reached for me but I held back, evading his seeking arms.

  “No,” I said, trying to stop crying. “No, you said…said it wasn’t allowed. That we should keep a proper distance between us.”

  “Fuck propriety,” he said, sounding angry. “Hearing your grief hurts my heart. Come to me now and let me hold you.”

  He swore so rarely that the profanity shocked me a little. I allowed him to gather me close and wrap his arms around me. I molded myself to the side of his big, muscular body and only then did I start to feel better.

  My tears tapered off to sniffles and the horrible, intense longing I’d had for home gradually faded.

  Because this is home now. Kristoff is home, whispered a little voice in my head.

  I was too tired to argue with it. Sighing I snuggled closer and breathed in his delicious scent.

  “Thank you,” I whispered.

  “Oh, Charlotte…you may not thank me later.” He sighed and carded one big hand gently through my hair. “But for now, sleep and take your ease. Tomorrow’s Trials will come soon enough and you need to be well rested.”

  That’s right—the Trials! I had wanted to ask him more about the Trials I was going to go through the next day to prove I was really the Empress.

  But now that I was safe and secure in his arms, a weariness so deep and profound I couldn’t fight it seemed to overcome me. I opened my mouth to ask a question and a yawn came out instead.

  Tomorrow—I’ll ask tomorrow, I thought, snuggling closer to the broad chest and wrapping one leg over his thigh.

  And then I fell asleep to the gentle rhythm of his breathing and the soothing feeling on his hand in my hair.

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Charlotte

  “Kristoff Verrai, Captain of the Imperial Guard and his candidate for Goddess-Empress,” announced the tall footman in black and gold livery standing just inside the large double doors.

  There was a murmuring in the crowd of people—all of whom were extremely richly dressed and most of which had the same deep blue-black hair as Kristoff. A few of the women had changed their skin and hair and eyes to match my competitor’s, I saw. There was a lot of platinum blonde hair and sharp emerald eyes. Their men had skin that varied with the mood of their females—a lot of them seemed to be a bright, swirling, orange-pink at the moment. I wondered if that was the color of curiosity.

  Since
Kristoff had explained about Majorans being chromatacromes and so able to change their skin and hair and eye color at will, none of this surprised me. But I’d be flat out lying if I said it didn’t unnerve me, because it sure as hell did. It was weird to be in a crowd of super tall alien people who were constantly changing color like living lava lamps—though I supposed I would have to get used to it since they were my people now.

  As the crowd parted, we saw another podium-like table where the Council of Wisdom were already seated. Prince Morbain and the lovely girl he’d called Eucilla were standing in front of them and Morbain was very clearly consulting a watch—or what Kristoff had called a chronometer—as though he was marking off the time.

  “You can stop counting the minutes—I am here with the True Incarnation in plenty of time, despite your attempt to move the Trials without letting me know,” Kristoff said flatly, as we came to join them in front of the Council.

  “Are you really? What a pity.” Morbain looked up, giving him a bland stare. “But as for moving the Trials, I only did it for the sake of the respect I feel for our esteemed Council of Wisdom. Our wise Elders have much to attend to, it isn’t right to make them wait on such inconsequential matters.”

  “The Investiture of a new Empress is no small matter, Prince Morbain,” said the youngest council member—the one with brown eyes and brown skin that I remembered from the day before. He looked at Kristoff. “Captain Verrai, is it really true that no one came to notify you of the change of time?”

  “No one but one faithful guard—without whom we would have been late and forfeited the Trials. Which I am certain is Morbain’s true reason for the time change,” Kristoff growled.

  “But this is highly irregular!” protested the Councilor. “I gave orders myself to a footman to alert you.”

  “You’d better find out what happened to him then,” Kristoff said blandly. “Because he never found his way to the door of the Guest Quarters.”

  “But—” the Councilor began. Just then, a footman in black and gold livery stepped forward and whispered in his ear. The Councilor’s light brown skin went suddenly pale and he looked up. “His body was found just now, stuffed in the kitchen pantry” he said in a stunned voice. “His throat had been cut. This…this is an outrage!”