Ahdan

by Nikki Clarke

  She looks away and rises from the seat, mumbling as she fumbles with her purse. “I have to get home, anyway. I don't know why you would answer the door if you knew you had company."

  "Mm hm, right," I return dryly.

  I follow her to the door and let her out. When she gets into the hall, she turns around and gives me a look.

  “Uh, we are going to talk about where you met a man who looks like that next time. Mm, mm, hm. Lord, have mercy.”

  I watch in mortification as she fans herself and pulls at her top as if to get some air to her chest.

  “Ugh, god, Ma, stop. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

  Her chin dips to her chest, and she looks over her glasses at me. “I’ll talk to you when I talk to you. You ain’t calling nobody with a man who looks like that in your house.”

  “Bye, Ma.”

  She’s still mumbling as she makes her way down the hall. I wait until she’s on the elevator before shaking my head and closing the door. When I go back to the living room, Ah’dan is still there. He’s retrieved the bottle of bourbon from where I hid it and is sitting at the table, sipping from his glass. As he lifts it, he nods to the seat across from him.

  “Come sit with me.”

  I take the seat, and a humming bird flutters through my belly as his yellow eyes lock on to me over the rim. Shit has definitely taken a turn.

  He kissed me, and it just may have been the best kiss of my life. It definitely was the best kiss of my life, and all I want to do is kiss him again. I don't know if it's the excitement of him being so different or the fact that he really is the most attractive man I have ever seen, but something about him calls to me, and I don't feel as weird as I'd expect about wanting to answer it.

  As he watches me, I try to figure out the best way to go about this. I don't believe the only reason he kissed me is to distract my mother. He could have done that a thousand different ways that wasn't kissing me. It feels nice to think he may be attracted to me because I am definitely attracted to him. The question is, what am I going to do about it?

  AH'DAN

  I want this woman.

  For the first time in more turns than I can count, a blaze of longing climbs through my middle. My abdominal muscles contract, making my thighs tense and my cock harden painfully. I glance into my lap in amazement. The last female I was aroused for in such an intense way was my lehti. I would blame the effects of the libation Niya gave me, but my attraction to her has been forming as a small seed in the depths of my subconscious since my gaze first came to rest on her.

  I tried to ignore it. Even as I spent the entire day sketching her face over and over. Drawing her lips, her lovely cloud of hair—her eyes. I’ve spent the past four rotations trying to remember the eyes of the Lyqa who brought my heart to life before nearly tearing it from my chest. It has been a haunting feature of my life, and one that has been most prominent. But now my mind is filled with Niya.

  She is beautiful. Since I was introduced to human women, I have become amazed at the depths of their beauty. Especially those of Amina and her sisters’ race. When I first met my brother’s partner, I could not look enough at her familiar but different features—the smooth, brown skin, the coily hair. I’d wanted to study her and sculpt her. She had captivated my interest in a way that remained elusive since my lehti left. But eventually even that fascination had faded to leave me again searching for the comfort of the eyes I thought I would look into forever. No one has been able to distract me in such a way since. Until now.

  After a moment of silence, Niya crosses her arms and narrows her eyes at me. “You were supposed to stay in my bedroom.”

  I sip the bourbon and nod. “I was; however, I could smell your frustration and thought it best to interrupt and prevent you from taking it out on your mother. I find that it is difficult to take things back once they have been spoken.”

  Her arms drop, and she looks at me in confusion. “You came out so I wouldn't fuss at my mom?”

  “I made an appearance because while you may only see what appears to be meddlesomeness, your mother’s scent was worried. And mothers do not worry about those they love when they believe they are taken care of. If anything, I have put her mind at ease that you, at least, are in good hands.”

  Her lips twist to the side and her scent develops hints of shame.

  "I shouldn't have yelled at her. You're right."

  "I believe we properly distracted her from any offense she may have taken."

  Her skin warms, and I wonder if she is thinking of our kiss because I am. It is taking everything in me not to pull her onto my lap and taste all of her sweet places.

  “Am I allowed to enter now?”

  Niya’s eyes fly over my shoulder, and I turn to see Qim watching from the mouth of the hall with an amused expression.

  “Oh, yeah, of course, sorry. I’m going to go to bed, anyway. It’s late, and we probably drank too much.” She jumps from her seat and skitters away from the table, moving quickly down the hall until I hear her bedroom door close.

  “That was interesting,” Qim drawls as he takes Niya’s seat and reaches for the bottle. I hand it over, finally letting my face turn down.

  “This drink is disgusting,” I say in Lyqa, and he laughs and nods his head in agreement.

  “It is terrible, but she was so excited to share it with us. I did not have the heart to contradict her.”

  I also lied just to see her smile. I like her smile. I like many things about her, and after so long of not liking anything but what I was missing, I find I do not want to shy away from these new feelings.

  ***

  I awake before her the next morning and go to the kitchen to prepare her a morning meal. She was restless again last night. I could hear her moving around for many hours, and she delayed her morning alarm many times before rising from bed. As I sauté vegetables from her freezer, I listen to her sluggishly preparing for work in her bedroom. I can smell her fatigue. Shortly after her food is ready, she trudges from the hall.

  “Morning,” she says with a wide yawn and pads over to where I stand in the kitchen. “We’re gonna have to talk about that kiss, dude,” she says as she drops down onto one of the seats. She leans her cheek against the heel of one of her hands and regards me.

  “What would you like discuss about it, saeh’ti?”

  She frowns. “I don't know. Why did you do it, can we do it again? I was thinking about it all night. I couldn't sleep.”

  I focus on arranging her meal in a square of napkin, but my lips curve into a smile. “I kissed you because you are beautiful and since I first saw you, I wished to know how you taste. And we will absolutely kiss again. Here.”

  I hand the napkin over, and she takes it, examining the wrap. “What’s this?”

  “It is a breakfast burrito. I researched easy, transportable meals for you. This was first on the list.”

  She brings the wrap to her nose and sniffs before looking up at me in confusion. “You’re sweet. Thank you.”

  “You are welcome. We will talk about the kiss when you return home.”

  “Oh, okay.”

  She seems disappointed but gets her bag before heading to the door. As she holds it open, she looks back, and I can tell she wants to say something. I go to her, pushing the door closed and shifting her so her back rests against it.

  “Will you think about it all day if we do not resolve this now?”

  Her expression fills with relief. “I really will.”

  “Then let us resolve this as much as we can until later.” I lower my head and press my lips to hers, and she jumps at the initial contact before sighing and leaning into me. Her lips are sweet from the paste she uses to clean her teeth. I swipe at the seam, and she hesitates, pulling back a bit.

  “Open for me, Niya,” I demand against her lips and she opens them, allowing me to stroke through the soft insides. I brush along the roof before curling around her tongue. She moans and tilts into me, grabbing hold of my arms
for support, but I ease away, kissing her lightly before lifting my head.

  “We will speak of this when you are home. You will not make it to work if we address it any further.”

  Her eyes flare with the implications of my words, and she clears her throat, stepping back and rubbing a hand over her lips, making me want to kiss her all over again.

  “I guess, I’ll see you later?”

  “I will be here,” I tell her.

  She opens the door and sidles out, keeping her eyes on me until the moment it closes. I listen to her hurriedly make her way to the elevator, her breath skittish, and the scent of her arousal lingering in her wake. As I inhale the intoxicating smell, I tell myself again what I have already accepted. I want her, and I know now that if I am allowed, I will have her.

  The hours until Niya returns from her place of employment are torturous. I sketch some, filling more of the pages of my pad with renderings of her beautiful face. I am so immersed that I do not register the disturbance happening in another part of the building until Qim comes up behind me and breaks my concentration.

  “Should we intervene? I do not think I can withstand this much longer.” His voice is worried and edged with restrained anxiety. I blink up, my brow creasing in bewilderment.

  “How do you mean?” Just as I speak the words, a raised voice reaches me through the walls. I do not need scent to detect the undertone of threat in the male’s tone. He sounds aggravated and tense, which considering what I know of humans, is not unusual. I am ready to tell Qim that there is not much we can do to prevent humans from acting as they will when a smaller, frightened voice cuts through the agitated one, and the acrid stench of violence reaches me so strongly that I jump from my seat just as Qim whips around to stare in the direction of the hall.

  My chest heaves as I listen to the man’s voice get louder and more irate. I can hear his hostile movements, and beneath them the panicked movements of the woman. It gets quiet, and Qim’s anxiety mingles with the tension in the air, and he takes a step toward the door.

  “He is going to harm her.” His voice shakes with rage, and my own skin vibrates with the truth of this realization.

  “Hey! Open this door right now! Open it, or I will call the fucking cops!”

  I am at the door before I realize it. I pull it open and step into the hall just as Niya delivers another round of raps to the apartment across from her residence. Her bag lays discarded on the floor in front of me, and I step over it and into the hallway just as the door swings wide, and the large form of a human male steps into the threshold.

  “You nosy ass bitch, why the fuck you always coming to my door?”

  Niya leans back but doesn't relinquish her ground as she stares defiantly up at him. Her right hand is tense at her side, and I notice that she holds the deterrent spray she nearly used on Qim when we first met.

  ”I’d like to speak to Cris, please.”

  "Cris is busy.” The man steps back and moves to close the door, but Niya stops it with her free hand.

  “I’d like for Cris to come tell me that, please.”

  The man sucks his teeth and shoves against the door, dislodging Niya’s arm and pushing her back, but she manages to right herself and counter the force before he can close it.

  “Cris, are you okay?” she shouts into the residence, rising onto her toes to see past the man’s intimidating frame. The man shifts, his arm going out to push her away, and she raises her right hand, the canister angling up to his face. I step forward, moving quicker than I should, and gently close my hand over hers while grabbing hold of his wrist. I squeeze, my arm vibrating with the desire to hurt him.

  I lower Niya’s hand and position my body in front of her, never letting go of the man’s arm, then I focus on him. “If you so much as breathe harshly on this woman, I will remove this appendage from your body. Do you understand? Calm yourself.”

  The man’s eyes widen, and he attempts to jerk his hand back, but I hold steady, easily countering his force. I need him to understand that I will do damage to him if he hurts Niya. I tug his arm, and his shoulder gives a precarious pop. The sound of my body shaking is a low hum. His eyes travel over my trembling form, and the fear in his gaze intensifies.

  “I said,” I step closer, easing Niya out of the way, “do you understand?”

  His jaw clenches, and he appears as if he will resist, but then he nods. “Whatever, dude. Let me go.”

  He jerks his arm again, and this time I release, pushing him away from me so he stumbles back. He is large for a human male, but I am large for a Lyqa. I tower over him, and any attempt at bravado is lost when I take another step forward, crowding the doorway with my frame.

  “My saeh’ti would like to speak with her friend. It would be wise if she were allowed to do this.”

  I wait as he stares hard at me. I am not moving until Niya is satisfied that her friend is well and until I know for myself that there will be no violence here. Finally, he moves away from the door. There is a gasp and the sound of shuffling before a woman stumbles into the doorway. My chest tightens when I see her, and Qim makes a wounded sound behind me.

  It is clear that while our appearance tonight has prevented violence from occurring, this has not been the case previously. The woman, who looks up at me with so much shame that my nose burns with the smell of it, is beautiful, even with the discoloration beneath one of her eyes.

  Her face is round as is the rest of her. Despite the full curves that give her body a look of lush completeness, she appears fragile. The instinct to protect flares through my chest, but instead of moving closer, I step back, conscious that my size and appearance may do more to alarm than comfort her.

  “Oh, Cris. Are you okay?” Niya steps around me and reaches out a hand to rub the other woman’s arm.

  “I’m okay.” The voice that responds is just as enticingly robust as her form, but there is no command behind it. It shrinks back into her mouth before the words can really permeate the air.

  Niya sighs, and her brow pinches. “Do you want to come to my house? Please just come for a while.”

  A shuffle sounds out beyond her in the apartment, and Cris flinches. It is a subtle movement, a reflex, but my Lyqa sight catches it and if my hair could rise, it would. As if sensing my agitation, she looks cautiously up at me, and I notice for the first time the strangeness of her eyes. One is dark, a molten swirl of brown and amaretto. The other is a nearly clear blue. It reminds me of my brother Bati’s eyes and my mother’s eyes. And, right now, they are telling me that my anger at the male who did this to her is making her uneasy. I take a deep breath and another step back. The caution in her gaze recedes.

  “I’m okay. I was just about to go to my mother’s.” Her eyebrows lift in a subtle signal, and Niya’s face lights with understanding.

  “That’s a good idea. I’m going to stand right here, with the door open,” she emphasizes in a raised voice. “I’m not moving from this spot. I’ll call a car while you get your stuff.”

  The woman releases a sigh and steps back into the apartment, reaching out to activate the light as she does. The man is suddenly illuminated behind her, and if a look could do harm, his would end her life.

  She skitters past him, moving quickly into the residence. I can hear her running through the rooms gathering things. Her breathing is erratic, but there is an underlying anticipation that makes me feel she has been waiting for this opportunity.

  A short time later, the woman appears at the door with several bags on her arms. The man has not moved. The entire time, he’s held my gaze, his growing more incensed as we waited for the woman to return. Mine has remained steady and ready for him give me a reason to show him what I think of males who hurt the ones they are charged to protect.

  The woman sidles past him, never looking his way, but when she is almost through the threshold, he reaches out, grabbing at one of her bags and yanking her harshly back.

  “Bitch, you think you’re just gonna walk out of her
e?”

  My vision blurs over as a rage that I have never known overtakes me, but when I would react, Qim appears at my side.

  “I would ask that you release her.” His voice is deceptively calm. His scent, however, is deadly. The intensity catches me off guard, and I step away to give him space. I pull Niya behind me as a precaution.

  “Fuck you. You don't come up in here and tell me what the fuck I’m going to do with my own fucking girl in my own fucking house.” He yanks the woman’s arm, and she whimpers. She looks terrified, but there is regret in her expression that makes me think she is also worried for us. She has no need to fear for our safety.

  Qim takes another step forward, ducking beneath the doorway until he is fully inside the residence.

  “I am in your fucking house,” he returns with the same calm, “and I am telling you that you are going to release her. Now let her go.”

  The man appears unsure again, but the struggle to relinquish control plays out on his face. The moment is tense, and when he still does not relent, Qim moves quickly, striking out with a fist to the man’s chest, knocking the air out of him and making him release the woman’s arm. Just as calmly, Qim pulls the startled woman up against him and rubs his cheek across hers.

  “M’ah qitah, sweetheart. If I could have been here sooner to protect you, I would have been.” He releases her, putting some space between them and leaving room for the woman to exit into the hall where she edges around me and stands behind Niya. Qim turns back to the man who lays groaning on the floor. “You do not deserve the heart in your chest. You do not deserve a woman that beautiful, and you will not return here again. Tell me what I have said.”

  The man coughs and whimpers. He struggles to his feet and looks up with tear-filled eyes.

  “I'm not coming here no more,” he replies tightly and pushes past us and out the door. We watch as he stomps to the elevator and presses the button with a stab of his finger. When the doors open a moment later, he turns back. “They aren’t always going to be here, you stupid, fat bitch.”