Tales of the Quiet Kitty 2: Dancing with the Devil
Page 6
Tears welled and he fought them back. How could she breathe and not seek contact with him? With Bevel-leveB, her bound mate? Logic decreed she must be dead. Love and hope refused to accept it. Wouldn’t he know? Wouldn’t Bevel?
“A nicely appointed ship, Tygyr-man. She’s powerful and sleek, spare and trim -- a battle maiden armed for war.”
Brant ignored the sarcastic title, choosing to concentrate on the compliments to his ship. “She is that,” he bragged. “The Quiet Kitty is top-of-the-line when it comes to weapons and propulsion units. She carries the latest in Wave technology and multi-particle shields. Nothing the Corporation has can outrun her. She can be out-gunned, but it would take a sustained barrage of heavy artillery to breach her shields. The Kitty can be destroyed, but not taken by an outside entity.” He trained his distrustful glare on the dark-skinned male leaning nonchalantly against the bulkhead. “Only treachery from within can accomplish that.”
“If you think me treacherous, why did you allow yourself to be persuaded to accept me?”
The Landresi casually reached into a front pocket and pulled out a clear bag bulging with what looked like spears of dried krasn fruit. Brant’s suspicions were proved valid when he opened the bag and withdrew a handful, tossing them in his mouth and chewing. “My daily dosage,” he smirked, returning the bag to his pocket. He patted the concealed bag, a taunting grin pulling his full lips off center. “As long as I have an uninterrupted supply, your dreams of sharing my body will remain unfulfilled.”
“I do not desire males like that.”
“You lie. I have tasted your thoughts, seen your desire for the Jenari…”
Brant waved his hand, dismissing the Landresi’s line of reasoning. “Bevel is bond-mate to my sister-twin. It is a different thing among us. A family connection ensures loyalty. When I mate, I will share her with my sister and her mate. Had my brothers lived, they too would have been welcomed within our circle.”
“So now that I’m family, does that mean I’ll get to dip into any honeyed pot you pick up?”
Brant bristled. “You’re not family.”
“Oh, but I am, brother… and not just by Landresid law.”
“You lie. I don’t recognize you.”
“Nevertheless, we are legally bound. By the way, doesn’t this ship have a Sexengineer? I have some… pressing needs.” He gestured to his crotch where an impressive bulge tented the loose folds of his dungarees.
Possessive anger flared, searing his reason, tinting his vision blood red. “Stay away from Willa,” Brant snarled, claws snicking out in warning.
“Willa? Would that be the owner of the cute little face pressed against the plate?” Taelen pointed behind Brant to the viewing plate set in the double thick chorionite-plated doors.
“Back off!” With a last frown and glare for Taelen, Brant turned toward the door to find the Sprite hovering on the other side. Willa pressed against the panel, her eyes dancing with hungry lust, a huge, predatory smile showing all her pearly teeth. Her need brought his cock to immediate attention. “Damn, that’s all I need now,” he muttered, “a horny prince and a hungry Sprite.” It was the last thought he had time for before all hell broke loose.
The airlock cycled down, releasing the inner portal, and Willa erupted through the open doorway with a glad cry. Movements so fast they were a blur, she advanced on Brant in a cyclone of wings, arms and legs, all seeming intent on wrapping themselves around as much of his body as possible.
Before she reached him she was snatched out of the air.
A yelp of surprise, a yell of denial, a snarl of intent blended as Taelen quickly secured the Sprite in his arms, turning his shoulder at the last minute to block Brant’s attempt to snatch her out of his arms.
A full-throated roar of challenge shattered the silence, forced from Brant as he watched the Landresi press his lips to the full curve of his female’s mouth. He seemed to sink in and in, drawing from her, his ruthless lips sucking, his throat swallowing as if he pulled forth her essence and drank her down.
Her body convulsed in his grasp, arms flailed wildly as she flopped about. Brant screamed in rage and tore at Taelen’s arms, desperate to loosen his hold on her.
And then she was in his arms, her body jerking and shuddering, eyes rolled up and vacant. Her legs twitched and spasmed, flung out so her sex became visible. Swollen and throbbing, soaked with her juices, her labia gaped as though an invisible cock distended the lips, pressed them open and apart. Her breasts quivered under the urgency of her breathing, the tips jutting hard and high, flushed purple, filled with the influx of her pounding blood.
She began to scream. The cries were raw and primal, ripped from her throat in a rising crescendo of passionate agony.
Helpless to do anything but cuddle her, Brant rocked her in his arms, eyes gone feral as he locked gazes with the Landresid. “I will kill you, bastard son of a diseased race! What have you done to her?” His voice broke on the last sentence.
Taelen looked down at the tableau, his own eyes glowing with kinetic energy. He met Brant’s heated glare, his expression calm, blanked, almost neutral. His voice, when he spoke, echoed his facial expression for deadness. “What had to be done.”
He reached out a hand as if to touch him and Brant snarled, baring his teeth. “Back up. Back away.” His arms tightened about his precious burden.
He gathered Willa up, bracing his legs to stand when shock dropped him back to his knees.
Her plumes, fronds and feathers -- all of them -- littered the deck in a drift of bright purple, fuchsia and lilac. Even her eyebrows had molted. Willa lay in a limbs-flung insensate heap, her body bare and exposed. In her frondless state, her nakedness seemed beyond what merely unclothed skin could convey.
Fear rose in a black wave that threatened to rob him of reason. Brant’s heart quaked. Was she dying?
NO! He would not allow that!
“Bevel!” he shouted, voice hoarse with urgency, “medical emergency! Get the med unit up and cycling, set for Sprite!”
He turned his deadly gaze on the black-skinned prince, standing so aloof and calm, divorced from the horror he had somehow engendered. “If she dies, so do you.”
To be continued…
Stay tuned for the next exciting episode of Tales of the Quiet Kitty
Changeling Press Presents: Hot Toddies
Tales of the Quiet Kitty: Holiday Dreams
Mind games… Willa is slowly recovering, but Taelen’s still on everyone’s hit list! He’s tried apologizing, but no one’s listening. If he can’t win someone over to his side, Taelen’s addictions may kill him. This time he can’t use his powers to get himself out of trouble. Or can he? Taelen has a plan. He’ll craft a holiday dream, giving the crew their hearts’ secret desires. The twelve hours before Christmas are going to be hot!
Camille Anthony
A California native, Camille Anthony now lives in the beautifully wild Low Country of South Carolina. A fertile imagination and a love of both Romance and Science Fiction fuels her writing. Her favorite stories are those of strong, honorable people -- whatever the race or planet of origin -- who are driven by love and lust to find and do that one special someone.
Camille likes her heroines feisty, her heroes dominant and her passion red hot! She loves to hear from her readers. You can e-mail her at CamilleAnthony@CamilleAnthony.com. Your comments and suggestions are appreciated.