StarlightComplete

by Astrid Cooper

  Great. Sam swallowed. “And who is going to be there?”

  “My friends and a few surprises.”

  Where felinus were concerned, the word surprise tied her gut in knots. She never knew what to expect. “Surprises, huh? Like tentacle man?”

  John grinned, padding towards her, panther-like. Circling her. Sam turned with him, as he stalked her. This was a new game. The flash in his eye was dangerous, feral. Reaching out he trailed a warm finger along her shoulder blades. “Honey-cat, I thought I’d overcome your aversion to tentacles.”

  “I don’t mind your fingers, Kuno, but I draw the line at meter long, purple feelers.”

  John laughed. “Feelers, I like that, Sammi. You’ve such a way with words. How would you like me to feeler you?”

  “You don’t have the equipment,” she retorted.

  “No? Let me remind you!” John flung aside his black silk robe. “No, Sammi?”

  Dry-mouthed she glanced down at his erection—the felinus ridges splayed. “You can’t.”

  He pounced on her and lifted her into his arms, holding her crushingly close. “I’m feeling you, honey-cat. Are you feeling me?”

  “Ah, yes.”

  John stepped to the bed and set her down upon the quilt, kneeling between her legs. Bending forward he used his sex to trace over her, pressing himself into her favorite meridian points. As he moved, he swept his hair over her breasts…feeling. Oh, great stars! Sam shivered.

  “You’ve done it to me again.” She slapped his buttock. “Naughty cat-boy!”

  “I have done nothing to you—yet.”

  “Yes, you have. You’ve distracted me. I wanted to talk to you. When you don’t want to talk, you seduce me. It’s not fair.”

  “You talk too much, honey-cat.” He took her mouth in a searing kiss, silencing her.

  Samantha allowed herself to be silenced—for the moment.

  What was a girl to wear to celebrate her lover’s sexual maturity? Or, as Kuno insisted—his rite of passage.

  Desire was just the first stage and there were others to be entered once on the felinus homeworld.

  Mutatis—for one.

  She didn’t like the sound of that. And she was going with him to Chizan. Few outsiders had been allowed to do so and that she was invited was both exciting and alarming. As to what else awaited her—time enough to worry later.

  First, this party at Rendezvous. It was important to John, so she couldn’t refuse to go.

  Which left her in a pickle—what to wear?

  Hunting for hours through the on-line stores had been fruitless. Nothing caught her eye. The galactic couturiers offered garments to every discriminating taste from replica renaissance gowns with laces and ribbons—John would enjoy the ribbons—to sheer plastic body-suits, with only a strategic ruff—optional—to retain some semblance of modesty.

  She wasn’t going to wear that! Not even in private. She scrolled through the pictures.

  Nope, nothing suitable.

  She supposed she could fall back on her LBD, or a traditional ankle-length gown. Sam drummed her fingers over the computer keys, instantly regretting it as the machine squealed ‘incorrect sequence’. The bloody thing was talking to her. She hated smart-mouthed machines. The images of more gowns paraded across the screen. Everything she saw was so safe.

  She was tired of playing safe. She was with a felinus now and her world, her tastes had altered.

  Samantha took up the digital stylus and sketched some designs, refining until she had a garment that was hers and hers alone. She stared at the creation. She couldn’t.

  She could.

  Yep, she would.

  “Aren’t you ready, yet, honey-cat? You’ve been in there for hours. Unlock the door.” To give emphasis, John knocked. Loudly.

  Sammi smiled. Cats weren’t known for their patience, or the ability of a closed door to keep them out, if they wanted in. She’d chosen the bathroom because it was the only room in the apartment with a door.

  As she rubbed Chizan-patchouli oil on her wrists and beneath her lobes, she turned this way and that to study her reflection. The pearl necklace around her throat, with the fire-opal drop earrings, were her only jewelry.

  “That’s it, I’m done.” She smiled at her reflection and turned away, stumbling, righting herself, as her stilettos caught in the rug. A whole new way of walking perched on those heels—she had practiced for hours.

  Samantha keyed open the door. John stood there. He stared. She stared at him.

  “You spied on me, John-Kuno. How could you?” His intent gaze was her only response. “You’re a naughty cat-boy. I have to have some secrets from you.”

  “Like hell you do, kitten.” He stalked around her. She lifted her chin and stood tall, but inside she was a quivering mess. She was so not like her… Her hair, her dress—she was a stranger to herself and perhaps to John?

  He had mimicked her style and choice of color. He wore black quefram, the felinus equivalent of silk.

  His wide harem-style trousers were tucked into black ankle length boots adorned with silver studs. His collarless shirt was open part way to reveal his sun-kissed chest. No jewelry except for the band of crystals and pearls around his wrist and in his left lobe, a fire-opal. Her outfit was similar—the harem pants tucked into her ankle high boots, the heels adorned with crystal diamantes. Her red bustier was laced at the back and over it she wore a short-sleeved bolero. Her blonde hair was spiked with red and black.

  She had painted her face. Sweeping up from her left brow was a trail of gold and silver stars and a sparkling swipe of purple dust to her forehead. Her lips shimmered crimson and her lids and lashes were indigo.

  John’s face was painted—on the right side from temple to cheek—a vibrant swath of indigo with one silver star. His golden hair sparkled with red and black…some of it artificial but his felinus hair was returning.

  “You’re beautiful,” she whispered.

  He inclined his head, felinus fashion, and bowed, his hands over his heart. “I was about to say the same thing to you. You do me much honor, T’serlan.”

  “Am I your beloved?” Sam swallowed against a tight, dry throat.

  “Yes.” He exhaled.

  She caught his scent and drew it into her lungs. Musk, and cat and Desire. Her body clenched in all the right places and her legs turned wobbly—only because of the stilettos, she told herself. Not bloody likely.

  “We are one, honey-cat. Different, but matched.”

  “I sense a felinus ritual in those words.”

  “Of course.”

  “Care to enlighten me?”

  “Later.”

  She flung her hands on her hips, exasperated. “Kuno-John, you always say that, but later never comes with you!”

  Grinning, he ran a finger over her mouth. “I always come,” he said.

  “You know what I mean, cat-boy!”

  “Do I?” Laughing, he stepped back and studied her from head to toe, back again, several times. Sam forced herself not to fidget. He held out his hand to her, palm upwards in the felinus greeting. “Sam, I have something for you, please to follow me.”

  He spoke felinus and as was often the case, the syntax was ass about. But she understood on a deeper level, and that level was all that mattered. She put her palm against his and he backed out of the room, facing her, all the way to the lounge. He halted by the table and on it she saw a long, red velvet case. She looked up at him in silent query.

  “My desire gift for you, Samantha. T’serlan.”

  She studied him, noting the dilated pupils, the husky tremor in his voice. He wasn’t going to go mad with Starlight Desire again?

  He smiled. “Not for awhile. I’m in control. To a degree.”

  “It’s the degree that I’m questioning.”

  “Samantha! Aren’t you going to open the gift?”

  “If you can give me back my hand. I can’t open it with one hand.”

  “You could use your teeth. You�
�re very skilled in this regard.”

  Sam flushed. She could bite and nibble as good as any cat—if John’s reactions were any indicator.

  He nodded and stepped away, his palm sliding over hers. Finger tips touching. Electric. If he does that to me again, I’m going to melt.

  “Promise?” John asked. “Will you melt for me later?”

  “I’m going to screen my thoughts from you, cat-boy. I have some secrets to keep.”

  “But not from me.” He nodded to the box. “Please.”

  Sam untied the silver and purple cord and carefully opened the box. She stared. On a red silk pad lay a platinum bracelet, plain, but as she lifted the bracelet she amended her first impression. It was etched with a design, of roses on a vine and sparkling within each flower was a faceted crystal of mauve and silver and green.

  “It’s gorgeous,” she said.

  “You accept it, T’serlan?”

  “Yes, T’serl.” She rolled her tongue over the ‘r’ as John had done and he smiled.

  “You sound like a cat. You honor me, Samantha.”

  “You honor me, Kuno-John.” She inclined her head.

  He took the bracelet from her fingers and opened the catch, fastening it around her wrist. He stroked the silver, studying her, his eyes dilating.

  Sam drew in a breath. Uh-oh. I know that look!

  He smiled ruefully. “Can’t now. We’ll be late if we delay and I don’t want to muss up your hair.” He touched the spikes. “Besides, if I give in to the feeling, then it’ll lead to the deepest level of Desire. I have to try and avoid it until we reach Chizan.” He clenched his jaw as he studied her.

  “The flower on the bracelet, looks like a rose, but it’s not. What is it? I think it’s special.”

  “It is the farseth. From my world. Farseth is the lover’s flower—the promise of all things.”

  “What does that mean? The promise of all things? Felinus is so enigmatic.”

  “We don’t want to reveal ourselves, our true selves to strangers. So our language is layered in meaning and ritual and often doesn’t translate.”

  “I know that.”

  “And you’ll understand all, once we reach my home and anyway, you know that you comprehend on a deeper level. Your mind doesn’t, but your body does, your spirit. What else is there, honey-cat?”

  Sam breathed out and John caught her scent.

  “You’re turning philosopher on me, Kuno. I’d love to have a deep metaphysical debate with you, but we’ll be late.”

  He smiled, nodded and stepped back. “Yes. And since I called the party, it’d be bad manners for me to be late. So…” He held out his palm and she took it. Together they left the apartment and headed down the corridor to the public elevator that would deliver them to the lowest level and then after that, the secret elevator and corridors to the felinus hang-out.

  Rendezvous was decorated to reflect the personalities of Sam and Kuno—this was the first thing Samantha noticed when she passed through the silver curtain from the atrium. Jinjo was on duty and greeted her, with Gin-ja resting on his shoulder. The avatar was dressed in a tuxedo that complemented his perfect features. Sam put her hand out to him and he took it, the gentlest of handshakes. His skin was soft, smooth and human warm.

  “I’m happy to see you again, Jinjo. How is Gin-ja?”

  “She has discovered a new game. She jumps out at me from behind a curtain with the result my ankles are scratched.”

  John laughed. “You and me both Jinjo.”

  “Ah, I understand. Mistress Samantha jumps out at you from behind curtains. I had no idea humans played thus.”

  “Not another word, John-Kuno!” Sam said holding up her finger. “You’ll warp his circuits.”

  Laughing, again, John guided her through the curtain.

  Sam watched the holo-images on the walls as they changed color in time with the beat of the music. Blended with the sea theme of pearls, coral reefs and dolphins, overlaid with pulsing images of stars and galaxies, were her symbols of paints, brushes and exotic gardens. Racing through the holo-flowers were two cats, one streaked gold and red, the other honey-colored.

  Someone had a mischievous sense of humor—it smacked of John-Kuno, that little touch.

  As they entered the room, Sam’s eyes adjusted to the muted purple lights. She caught the pheromone-scent of felinus. The place was wall to wall shifters, some in human form, many in their morphed personae. A tentacle or two waved a greeting to them.

  “Lenar!” John extended his palm to a young man.

  “Kuno.” Lenar was a golden-haired, golden-skinned felinus, his magnificent body clad only in a gold kilt. His eyes the deepest emerald, sparkled with mischief.

  “Len, I’m glad to see you dressed for the occasion,” John said.

  “I wanted him to wear a g-string,” Kareena retorted, joining Lenar’s side.

  “It’d take more than one g-string to hide my assets, Kari-kitten.”

  “Exactly my point, babe.”

  Lenar’s palm outstretched to Sam and she had no hesitation in returning the traditional greeting. Except Lenar tickled her wrist with a fingertip as he withdrew his hand. Beside him, in a vibrant crimson jumpsuit, with her purple hair streaked with red, Kareena was stunning. The couple hurt the eyes, they were so beautiful.

  “I told you it would happen one day, Kuno,” Kareena whispered in her throaty voice. “He didn’t believe me that his blood would mate-stir. Do you know what he told me, kitten? He would never have a mate.” She rolled her eyes for emphasis and batted her purple lashes. “Cats! They only think with one part of their anatomy—if you can call it thinking!”

  “John-Kuno thinks very thoroughly,” Sam offered.

  Lenar blushed.

  John cleared his throat.

  Kareena stroked her red-lacquered talon over Sam’s wrist. “Kitten.”

  There was a world of meaning in that one word—and Sam understood. A woman talking to another…

  Then Kareena’s eyes narrowed as she looked over Sam’s shoulder.

  “Oh, that damn bird-brain! I told him not to sit on the bar. He does it on purpose, marking it with his scent. You have no idea how hard it is to get rid of it!” Kareena stormed off.

  Amused, they watched her weave through the crowd.

  Sam peered. Even in the gloom, she could make out that this cat was different—a cross between a lynx and something else. The sitting cat was over one meter tall, his cinnamon fur, black-tipped. His long ears were pointed with long wispy fur, resembling feathers. On each side of his face, a black line of fur traced from nose to eye to ear. His eyes were obsidian, inscrutable. Catching her gaze, the cat winked at her.

  Kareena reached the cat, swatted him. The cat opened its mouth to reveal a formidable set of teeth, but refused to budge.

  “Only Kareena would dare slap one of them,” Lenar said. “Excuse me, I’d better be peacemaker. You know how Kari can be sometimes.”

  Sam saw the cat lift onto his back legs and butterfly-shaped wings extended from the creature’s back. Oh my stars! A cat with wings!

  She gaped. Wings made of fur—cinnamon, streaked with black. The cat flapped his wings once and launched into the air.

  People ducked as the cat flew through the room, just missing the tops of heads. Some swatted playfully at the cat as it swooped down.

  Sam twisted around, watching. A cat who could fly! Just when she thought she had seen it all, the felinus were surprising her.

  She glanced at John, saw his grin, humor dancing in his eyes.

  “That cat is flying,” she said.

  “Taren is an excellent flyer. Pity about his manners.”

  “You know him?”

  “Very well. Remember I told you how I spent some years on Aves? I was fostered in his home. He gave me the tattoo—as clan-brother it was his right.”

  “I forgot you were fostered.” She had been adopted out, too, many times—but now was not the time to tell John.

 
“Mm. After my ring surfing incident, my father was despairing, until my mother soothed his fur. Remember me telling you? I wouldn’t come home, I was too ashamed, and my father was too proud to admit… Ah feegling hell! We’re just too much alike to ever get on.”

  “Oh, arrogant, overbearing, demanding?”

  “Sexy?”

  Samantha snorted. John didn’t want to talk about it, and so he changed the subject. Typical. “Where did that cat go? I want to see those wings.”

  John put his hand on her wrist. “You mustn’t touch any without permission, Sammi, especially an Avenor.”

  Avenor? The closest translation might be cat-wing. She studied the cat who was now perched on top of a column, peering down at the crowd. “Cat-wing? Is that what he is?”

  John shrugged. “Among other things.”

  “What other things?”

  “Control your curiosity, Sammi, it’ll get you in trouble.”

  “It already has, answering cryptic emails from a sexy little beast called Kuno. Trouble, maer, that’s what you are. Trouble!”

  John smiled. “Me? Trouble?” He leaned into her.

  “Yes, trouble. Lacking restraint. I can control myself, unlike some I can name.”

  John raised his brow. “Tonight is not for control. Out of control is so much better, honey-cat, especially with you. Wait and see.” He placed his hand at the small of Sam’s back and ushered her away to a corner beside the bar.

  A cyber-bartender placed two crystal goblets of shovan on the counter.

  Sam sipped it and her hair stood on end. “It’s…”

  “Yep, full strength. Kareena’s special recipe. Guaranteed to make you very aware.”

  An understatement. Sam’s every cell was humming and what she most wanted to do in that moment was fling John back against the bar and feegle him senseless.

  John smiled. “Promise?”

  “Mmmm.”

  “Kuno, saer-tan.” A deep voice spoke behind them.

  John turned, smiling and held out his palm. A felinus strode forward. But not just any felinus.