It was her scent that he found especially distracting now. It seemed to grow stronger in the closed cabin—so strong, in fact, that his fangs were long and sharp and eager to bite. He kept remembering that one taste of her blood he’d had when he healed her small wound—how intoxicatingly sweet it had been…
No, he told himself firmly. No, I won’t bite her—not yet. I need to get things ready for our trip before I indulge myself.
Grimly, he ignored the Blood Hunger which had been tearing at him for days now, ever since the last few, bitter drops he’d taken from his former assistant before she had fainted and he had let her go. There would be time for feeding later—time to taste Sarah’s sweet, indescribably delicious blood again once all the preparations were in place.
If he had been mated to her, he would have bitten Sarah at least once a day—sometimes more. But it was stipulated in her employment contract that he would bite her only once during each standard seven-day week. It would be better to have her blood to nourish him at the very beginning of their mission rather than a day before, when he didn’t really need it.
But you do really need it, whispered the Blood Hunger. You’re half starved—hell, more than half. You haven’t had a true drink since Malinda died and that was a year and a half ago.
Thoughts of his dead mate started a fierce ache inside him which he pushed ruthlessly away. It also made him think of his son, Tsandor. The constant care facility had informed him that the boy needed new clothing. Apparently he was growing tall for his age and had outgrown the last set Sazar had sent over.
He felt a stab of guilt, as he always did when thinking of his son. He should go and visit at least, reassure the boy that he was not forgotten. But somehow he couldn’t face those eyes, so much like Malinda’s, or bear to answer questions about how she had died…
“What happened to Mamam? Where is she? When is Mamam coming home?”
The questions Tsandor had asked over and over when Malinda had first passed over to be with the Goddess were unanswerable, unendurable. He had been so young when it happened. He was still young, still vulnerable…
I’ll send Sarah, Sazar thought, casting a glance at his new assistant. It can be her first assignment—to shop for new clothing for herself and the boy and to bring it to him at the constant care house.
It seemed the perfect solution. The shelter director had said that Sarah was excellent with children, after all. Maybe Tsandor would like her and be comforted. Sazar hoped so—he had no comfort to give right now and he didn’t know when he ever would again. His heart was a stone since his mate had passed—he had no feeling left inside but the deep, bitter ache and he knew he never would again.
Guilt slightly assuaged, he guided the shuttle towards the huge white bulk of the Mother Ship which was orbiting the Earth’s moon. Time to get ready for his diplomatic visit with the dignitaries on Alquon Ultrea. They could be valuable genetic trade partners and allies against the Hive—the insectile race which threatened Earth and the Kindred who protected it—if Sazar did his job correctly.
Can’t allow myself to be bogged down in sentiment, he told himself sternly. I have a mission to complete and I must and will complete it for the good of my people.
He would do his job, no matter how the Blood Hunger tore at him. After all, now that his love was dead, honor and duty were all that remained to him.
* * * * *
“Hey, doll—you look lost.”
The voice belonged to a pretty auburn-haired girl who was as curvy as Sarah was herself, though the stranger was considerably taller.
“I am lost,” Sarah confessed. She’d been standing in the main terminal aboard the Kindred Mother Ship for fifteen minutes, trying to decipher the map which would hopefully lead her to the clothing stores she was supposed to visit, but so far she couldn’t make heads or tails of it.
The Mother Ship was a huge place, compared to the Compound. Kindred warriors and human women rushed back and forth, getting on and off the trams which pulled soundlessly up to the platforms and rushed off again just as fast.
It felt vast and impersonal and frightening after living much of her life in a controlled environment and Sarah was beginning to feel like an ant on a leaf, watching as the waters rose and swirled around her, just trying not to drown. This auburn-haired girl was the first person to stop and talk to her and she felt incredibly grateful for her kindness.
“Well, tell me where you’re supposed to go and I’ll help you get there,” the girl said. “My name is Kat, by the way. I’m mated to Twin Kindred. How about you? What kind of Kindred did you get? Oh, and what’s your name?” She laughed. “Sorry, guess I should have asked that first.”
“I’m Sarah Michaels.” Sarah held out a hand and the other girl shook it warmly with a smile. “But I’m not mated to any of the Kindred—I’m a personal assistant to one and I’m supposed to be doing some errands for him.” She shrugged helplessly. “Only I don’t know where I’m going. I just came up to the Mother Ship about an hour ago and I’m really lost.”
“What? You mean he brought you up here and dumped you and just expects you to find your way around?” Kat sounded indignant. “What a jerk! What is he—a Dark Kindred? They don’t understand emotions so it sounds like something one of them might do.”
“No, he’s a Blood Kindred,” Sarah explained. “And he didn’t just dump me—he actually gave me a way to call him if I get lost.” She rummaged in her battered brown leather handbag and brought out the thin silver circle Sazar had given her before pointing the way to the terminal and going the opposite direction himself. “He said to put this around my head like a crown and think to him if I needed help.”
“Wow—he gave you a think-me?” Kat’s auburn brows rose in apparent surprise. “He must have known you a while to ask you to bespeak him. That’s a pretty intimate form of communication.”
“No, actually—he just hired me today,” Sarah said. “Which is why I don’t want to use this, uh, think-me thing.” She lifted her chin. “I need to prove I’m a competent assistant and calling for help every five minutes doesn’t look very competent, does it?”
“I guess not.” Kat smiled cheerfully. “Which is why it’s good for you that I’m nosey. I saw you standing here with that look on your face and just had to know what was going on with you.”
“I’m glad you’re nosey.” Sarah smiled at her, feeling like she’d known the other woman all her life. “If you could just direct me to some clothing shops. I need to get some new clothes for myself and for a little boy around four and a half years old.”
Kat’s eyes practically glowed with interest.
“You’re in luck, doll—I just happen to be taking a little shopping day myself. And since you and I are both pleasingly plump, you can tag along. Come on.”
She led Sarah to a platform and then onto a whisper-quiet tram with clear glass sides which allowed a view of the different areas of the Mother Ship as they rushed past.
“Wow—it’s really fast,” Sarah remarked. “I have to stop looking—it’s making me dizzy.”
“You’re lucky to ride it,” Kat informed her. “The Kindred only installed it recently, you know. When I first came aboard the Mother Ship, you could either go up and down in these fast, cramped little tubes or you had to ride this two-headed animal called a Take-me.” She made a face. “Believe me—neither option was any fun.” She leaned casually against a pole, her eyes sharp. “So tell me more about this boss of yours…”
Kat was easy to talk to and by the time she’d led Sarah past the huge park-like common area and into the shopping district, Sarah felt like she’d known her forever. She was cautious about explaining her past—even though she was far past the reach of The Brotherhood, she still didn’t like speaking about them and her life in the Compound. But she didn’t mind telling Kat about her new employer and the mission she was going to accompany him on.
“So your new boss is Commander Sazar—the Pitch-Blood Kindred diplomat?” K
at asked as they tried on clothing at a store which catered to the plus sized body type. In fact, most of the stores aboard the Mother Ship seemed to have a good selection of plus sized clothing, unlike the stores down on Earth. Kat had explained that many Kindred warriors found “fluffy” girls appealing which was surprising to Sarah. Larger girls were considered inferior at the Compound, which was one reason she’d escaped Father Caleb’s notice for so long.
“Yes, he is—do you know Commander Sazar?” Sarah stepped out of the dressing room and looked at the outfit she’d picked from the rack. It was difficult to know her size since all her clothing from the age of twelve had been hand-sewn by her mother and the other Sisters in the Compound.
“I know of him. His little boy goes to nursery school at the same place my three little guys do. In fact my son Shad is especially good friends with him—he talks about him all the time.”
“So he’s friends with Tsandor—Commander Sazar’s little boy?” Sarah asked.
“Uh-huh. Oh no, doll—you can’t wear that. It’s way too big for you!” Kat was frowning in distaste at the shapeless sweater and baggy slacks Sarah had pulled on. “Here—let me find you something.” She hunted among the racks for a few minutes and came back with an armful of clothing. “Try these.”
“Well…all right.” Sarah looked doubtfully at the jewel-toned colors in the heap of garments. She hadn’t been allowed to wear anything but gray, navy blue, black, and occasionally tan since her parents had joined The Brotherhood when she was twelve. It seemed strange to be trying on an emerald green sweater which hugged her breasts and tight-fitting jeans which emphasized her hips and behind rather than obscuring them.
“Now that’s more like it!” Kat exclaimed when she came out of the dressing room. “Show off those curves, girlfriend. Don’t try to hide them.”
“I don’t know…” Sarah looked at her reflection uncertainly. “These seem so…form fitting. So immodest.”
“Immodest?” Kat laughed. “But just about every inch of your skin is covered.”
“Yes but…these show so much of my shape.” Sarah couldn’t seem to let go of her habit of camouflage. These clothes would have gotten her punished at the Compound—and they would have drawn unwanted attention.
“Well, you have a nice shape,” Kat countered. “Look, you’re shaped like me—a really full hourglass. You have big boobs and plenty of junk in the trunk but your waist is narrow—you need to show that off.”
“But…what will Commander Sazar say?” Sarah asked, biting her lip. “Are these the kind of clothes I’m supposed to wear on Alquon Ultrea?”
“Probably not,” Kat said cheerfully. “But it’s not like you’re moving there for life—you’re just going on a diplomatic mission for a little while. You need clothes you can wear here on the Mother Ship.”
“But the mission—”
“Will be fine. Look here, doll—I’ll do some research into the Alquon culture and have my clothing pattern replicator print you out some outfits that will work over there. They won’t last nearly as long as clothes you’d buy in a store but they’ll work for the mission, okay?”
“You’d do that for me?” There was a lump in Sarah’s throat. “But…you just met me. You don’t even know me.”
“I know I like you—you seem like a sweet girl.” Kat smiled. “And I have a friend who’s going to be very eager to meet you. She’s extremely interested in Commander Sazar’s little boy because she teaches him art at the day care. You can meet her when we bring the clothes for the little guy.”
Kat was a big help in picking out clothing for a four-going-on- five-year-old and Sarah found she was much more comfortable with those than some of the choices her new friend had talked her into for herself. She still felt uncomfortably exposed, even wearing the sleek black business suit Kat had talked her into.
The pencil skirt clung too tightly to her full hips and the white blouse and blazer that went with it conformed to her curves more closely than she liked. But Kat assured her that she looked fabulous—svelte and sexy. Sarah had to admit her new suit was a big improvement over the interview clothes she’d been able to get at the shelter.
Before she knew it, they were on their way to the daycare center with new clothes for Commander Sazar’s little boy and a few toys which Sarah had picked out as well. She felt sorry for the little boy, living away from his father—it reminded her of how her own father had abandoned her to her fate at the Compound when he had chosen to leave The Brotherhood of Peace.
They went up several levels and Kat led her into a gorgeous play area with a reading corner, jungle gym, ball pit, and so many other toys and games it looked to Sarah like a kid’s idea of paradise.
She couldn’t help contrasting it with the raggedly mown back lawn and the broken tire swing which had been the play area at the Compound. There had been a sand pit too but it was usually crawling with sand fleas which meant multiple itchy bites. The sand box here on the Kindred Mother Ship was filled with clean sand in every brilliant color of the rainbow and the children playing in it were likewise clean, happy, and obviously well cared for.
“Oh, there she is—there’s my friend, Sophie,” Kat said, leading Sarah past the happily playing children to a back area which was obviously dedicated to art. At the moment, it was set up with about a dozen miniature easels fitted out with long sheets of paper and paint pots filled with bright, primary shades. Little artists wearing protective smocks over their clothing were dabbing with brushes, each creating their own version of a Christmas tree.
“Hello.” Sarah nodded shyly at the pretty woman with long brown hair and big green eyes. She was wearing a paint-daubed apron herself and smiling as she went around, supervising her young artists.
“This is Sarah,” Kat explained. “I thought you might like to meet her since she’s working for Commander Sazar—you know—Tsandor’s father?”
“Oh, you are?” Sophie turned bright, inquisitive eyes on her. “I’ve been hoping to meet him in person but he almost never comes here. Did you come to take Tsandor home to be with his father? Are you his new nanny or something?”
“Um, actually I’m just here to drop off clothes for him,” Sarah said apologetically. “I do work for Commander Sazar but as his executive assistant—not a nanny.”
“That’s too bad.” Sophie looked genuinely upset. “I was so hoping you were coming to take him home. That poor little boy is starved for love and affection and his father never comes around.”
“I think that maybe he’s, uh, very tied up with his job,” Sarah said awkwardly, feeling that she had to defend her new employer. “We’re getting ready to go on a mission to Alquon Ultrea in a whole other galaxy in a day or so.”
“Well if he’s going off on a long mission, all the more reason to come see his son himself instead of sending you,” Sophie exclaimed. “How can he be so cold hearted? Did he give you any explanation at all as to why he couldn’t come?” she demanded.
Sarah took a step back. “No, but he only hired me today so he hasn’t told me much of anything,” she admitted. “Actually, I was really surprised to learn he has a son at all. He seems like such a…such a solitary man.”
That was the main impression she got from the big Kindred—a sense of solitary loneliness—like a bubble around him that couldn’t be breached.
“Take it easy on poor Sarah,” Kat told Sophie. “She doesn’t know why Commander Sazar won’t come to see his own kid—she’s just doing her job.”
“Well do you at least know how his wife died?” Sophie asked. “I’ve asked my husband, Sylvan, about it but her death seems to be shrouded in mystery.”
“I’m afraid not.” Sarah shook her head regretfully. “He didn’t volunteer any information—just told me I was to bring some clothes for Tsandor.”
She could still remember the cool, collected way Commander Sazar had given her this first assignment…
“You’re to go to the clothing shops and buy suitable clothes for bo
th yourself and a young male about four and a half cycles old,” he’d said to her as he landed the shuttled they’d flown up on in the docking bay.
“I’m sorry…” Sarah cleared her throat. “A young male?”
Sazar made an impatient gesture with one hand. “What your people would call a ‘little boy’ I believe. He is housed in the constant care facility on the twenty-second level, east wing of the Mother Ship. Buy him four or five outfits and anything else you think necessary.”
“Wait—you want me to shop for a little boy?” Sarah had been surprised. There had been nothing about this in her interview. “What little boy? Whose little boy?”
“His name is Tsandor and he is my son.” Commander Sazar had stared straight ahead, studying the viewscreen as he spoke, his pale eyes never meeting hers.
Sarah had felt a funny twitch in her midsection. A son…he had a son. Which meant he must have had a wife at one time. Or maybe he still had one and they were divorced or separated. Was that why he needed to take blood from Sarah instead of from his own mate?
“Your son?” she asked hesitantly. “Is his mother—”
“His mother is dead.” His deep voice had crackled like lightning in the small, confined shuttle, making her wince. And still he looked straight ahead, refusing to meet her gaze.
“I…I’m sorry,” Sarah had faltered.
“Don’t be. And don’t speak of her again,” Sazar snapped. “You have your first assignment—can you handle it or not?”
Sarah had lifted her chin. “I can handle it.”
“Good. I’ve placed you on my expense account so you should have no problems. I’ll expect to see you in my quarters at nineteen hundred hours so that I can brief you on the details and timeline of our mission. You’re excused Ms. Michaels.” And he had let her out of the shuttle and pointed the way to the tram station with hardly another word…
Healing the Broken: A Kindred Christmas Tale (Brides of the Kindred) Page 3
