by Viola Grace
“That is... odd.”
Khytten laughed. “I know. My tastes are wide and varied.”
They walked along, and Khytten asked, “Where are we going for coffee?”
“You have quite an addiction.”
“You know as well as I do that actives function better with coffee.”
“Does it get into the milk?”
“No. I suppose I could put it in, but there has never been a need for it. You and Salat get up on your own in the mornings.” She winced. “I mean, you don’t have trouble getting—waking—up. Damn, double-entendres are tricky.”
Torenne chuckled. “We grew up in households that didn’t drink a lot of coffee.”
“Oh, god. I am going to need to hit a coffee shop for some instant for tomorrow morning then.”
“I am sure my parents have some around for guests.”
“I am still going to pack my own. People have started to run behavioural experiments on me lately. I don’t trust your family not to slip in decaf and pretend it isn’t.”
Torenne wrinkled her nose. “That does sound like the kind of thing my mother would do.”
Khytten nudged her. “It is the kind of thing you would do.”
“Yeah, that too.”
They laughed and finished the ice cream, wiping their hands on napkins before heading toward a coffee shop that looked vaguely familiar.
Khytten walked inside and went straight for the packets of instant arranged in boxes on the wall. She hummed and picked a nice dark roast and a coffee mug with a large black kitten on it. When she walked to the counter, she smiled at the woman behind the counter. “A large dark roast with three creams, three sugars.”
The woman smiled, rang up the coffee, and Khytten paid for her stuff. She clutched the bag with the mug and the coffee. It was the first thing she had bought for herself since her apartment had been blown up.
When she had her cup and was waiting for Torenne and her ridiculously complicated beverage, there was a tap on her shoulder.
“Excuse me. Are you Khytten Danforth?”
Khytten looked into her sister’s eyes. “No. I have no last name. Sorry. You must be thinking of someone else.”
“Khytten? Don’t you recognize me?” Her sister kept a hand on her arm.
Khytten stepped away. “I don’t know you.”
Torenne stepped up with her cup. “What’s going on here?”
The woman huffed. “This is my sister. Are you a friend of hers?”
“Funny, you didn’t mention that you had a sister who didn’t try and have you killed by agents and peacekeepers. Do you have a second one?”
Khytten smiled at her. “No, just the one.”
“Ah well, it brought on our first meeting, so I can’t get too mad. Though, you weren’t in any shape to appreciate my bedside manner. Come on, honey, my parents are probably wondering if we wrecked our appetites.” Torenne put her arm around Khytten’s waist and turned her to escort her out.
Torenne whispered, “Breathe in, breathe out. We won’t come here again.”
Khytten kept breathing slowly as they left the shop, and she looked down at the little bag she had, and a big, fat tear cruised down her cheek. They walked for half a block, and their car pulled up. Torenne tucked her into the vehicle and ordered it to take them home.
Khytten smiled. “It all came back when I saw her face. Hearing the peacekeeper say that my sister had called them. Lying there in hospital while Samyel apologized as she had been told I was armed. Reading the report attached to my deportation order. All of it. They very firmly drew the line between them and me. I had forgotten.”
Torenne kissed her softly. “You have people that care about you now. Me, Salat, your friend Zera, the other guys you dated. All those babies that you helped get healthy. There are people who want nothing more than for you to have health and happiness. That means that we are going to help you as much as we can to find your footing in your new phase of life.”
“Including wet nursing and the live range?”
“Whatever it takes. I can even ask my mom to hunt you in the forest out behind the house if you like. I would love to see you stun her.”
She laughed weakly. “I bet.”
“Come on. Drink your coffee. Your sister didn’t grow the beans, roast the beans, grind the beans, or make the coffee. She has no ties to the cow that made the cream or the sugar grow.”
“Fine. I will enjoy my coffee. The mug was not made by her hands, nor the artwork created by her. I can still enjoy it. Right?”
“Right. Good girl.”
She pulled the cat mug out of the bag and showed it to Torenne, who lost it with giggles. “I think it has his eyes.”
It was a tiny black-eyed kitten hanging from the edge of the coffee mug, picked out in ceramic relief. “I am going to call him Little Salat.”
There was a steady set of clicks in her ear.
“Is he looking through your eye?”
Torenne nodded, still laughing.
“I don’t know how he gets any work done while staring at what is going on over here.”
“I think this is a welcome break from the type of thing he has to see while waiting for the kill order.”
“He has to wait?” That surprised her. She had guessed that he just stalked and killed.
“Sometimes, if there is political stuff involved. He has to wait until all evidence has been gathered before he can do what he does. That is when it is dangerous. The waiting. That is when he doesn’t talk.”
“Oh, so when he is growling, he’s clear.”
“Correct.”
“What about the clicking? How does he do that?”
Torenne looked at her blankly, and then, her face split into a grin. “Oh, that is easy. Wiggle your ears.”
“What? I can’t.”
“He can. He is moving his ear, which creates the pressure, and the result is the click.”
“Well, thanks for giving me the hearing. The last thing I needed was to watch an invisible big cat jerking off when I say his name.”
The clicking started, and she laughed. She cuddled the cat mug to her. “Come on, Little Salat, it is just you and me.”
The clicking sounded like a gallop. She laughed, and it lifted her mood.
Torenne asked, “What is happening now?”
“He’s clicking so hard it sounds like a stampede of women in heels heading for a sale.”
The clicking stopped.
“If he tries that all at once, my butt is going to be hamburger.”
Torenne giggled and cuddled against her. “Was that a good enough distraction?”
“Yeah, but now there is going to be a hint of dread to my daily life.”
“Don’t worry. He’ll be back soon, and the dread will be over.”
“I have racked up a ton of spankings, so the dread is going to be ongoing for quite a while.” She shivered, and her nipples tightened. She hoped that Torenne wasn’t looking, but of course, she was.
“Okay, I now have to translate dread to aroused for Salat.”
“Is this weird for you?” She looked Torenne in the eyes. “Is it odd to have a mostly woman’s body and to be with me?”
Torenne touched her cheek. “Since the activation, I have never wanted a man. Even Salat holds no interest for me. Oddly, I have also not been after any women. I want you, I choose you, knowing that your first affection is for Salat. It doesn’t matter to me. You are much more fun as a companion than anyone I have known. You are intelligent, caring, affectionate, hot, look great in anything I can design and are willing to wear it.” She laughed. “Salat and I are working on a comic book with you as the heroine.”
“Ohmygod.”
“Yeah, you fight crime and wear high fashion. It’s a fun book.”
“Wait, you have started it?”
“Sure, right after your first date with him. We discussed you and the plotline, as wel
l as the fact that he had pursued getting you for his own with management.” She smiled. “I knew I wanted to meet you then. He was head over heels or over his pointy ears, as you would say. He hasn’t wanted anything as much as he wants you. Then, when he got to know you and realized how scrappy you were, he was determined to keep you with him, one way or another. The assignment he is on right now is for you. Payment to the Aksalla government for authorizing all your paperwork.”
“Oh shit. A live range day isn’t worth it.”
Torenne laughed. “It isn’t for that. He wants you to have a home, and he has a large family, as I do. They would both be at your beck and call if you needed help and if you had children. He would have gone over all of this, but he’s there, and you need to hear it.” There was a smile. “I don’t think he counted on your skills with weapons or ability to kill.”
“Yeah, folks don’t expect that of a wet nurse, but we are very practical. If it is them or me, I choose me all the time. Me being alive can help a lot more lives than me being dead. Over two thousand at the last count.”
“What?”
“Two thousand infants in my arms. None of them were mine. It takes a toll after a while.”
“Aw. Well, Salat is willing to try really hard to offer you your own children. I am sure that my family would be happy if you were willing to have my child. Just ask my mom.”
“What is your thought about it?”
“I am still grappling with the idea. This is a lot of change in a very short span of time. Resetting my perceptions of life and my future takes some doing.” She smiled. “I know my mom would love it, and my father would have fun taking the child to dance, school, and any special classes it wanted. I can speak from experience that if the child activated, it could have no more supportive grandparents than my mother and father.”
“But not you. It’s okay, you know. You don’t have to have kids.”
Torenne blinked. “I thought it is what you wanted.”
“I want kids, but they deserve two parents who want to see every moment of their lives unfold... and one doting aunty.”
Torenne laughed and pressed her lips to Khytten’s forehead. “Sounds good, but I reserve the right to change my mind.”
“We can negotiate later. Right now, I am bracing myself to meet Salat’s mom.”
“Salmet is a good woman, very smart and just as devoted to her children as Salat will be.”
“She’s also ruthless with a keen intellect.”
“How did you know?”
“I have met her son. Is Riko coming?”
“He is. He tries to keep his wife in check. He is occasionally successful.”
Khytten sighed. “You aren’t going to leave me alone with them, are you?”
“I will try not to, but Salmet is devious, and if she wants to get you alone, she will.”
“Again, I have met her son. I know what to expect.”
Torenne occasionally snickered on the ride home, and there were no romantic overtures. Serious matters had taken their place.
There was a scary-looking vehicle with serious-looking bodyguards near it when their vehicle pulled in, and they halted.
Khytten’s voice was weak. “Oh, good. They are here.”
Torenne laughed and grabbed her by the hand, pulling her toward the house. “Come on, you need to get this over with.”
Khytten weighed herself down with her pack and the bag, plus her bag with coffee and the mug.
Torenne managed to pull her right until they got to the doorway, and then, Khytten locked her feet. “Nope. Nope, I changed my mind. You can tell Salat that it has been fun, but I am going to go live in the desert now. I have coffee. I will be fine.”
Torenne sighed, wrapped her arm around Khytten’s waist, and lifted her into the house, setting her back on her feet over the threshold. “There. The curse is broken, and you are in.”
Khytten looked around carefully and took a few steps into the entryway when a voice called out, “You must be Khytten.”
Torenne took the overnight bag and left the backpack. “I will just put these up in my room. I will be back down in a minute. Khytten this is Salmet; Salmet, this is Salat’s kitten.”
Torenne didn’t run so much as scampered away.
Khytten turned to the woman and man seated in wide-backed chairs looking out over the property. She walked in slowly as if approaching her doom. “Um, hello.”
The woman had a silver tinge to her skin and the same solid black eyes Khytten was used to staring into. The delicate features were lovely on her and striking on her son. When Riko got to his feet, Khytten blinked. He got his physique from his father.
Khytten stopped a decent distance away, and she squawked when Salmet walked up to her and hugged her.
“Come here, child. My, you are lovely and built like an hourglass.”
“I can hear the resemblance in your references, Prefect.”
Riko extended his huge hand. “How well do you know our son?”
She shook the hand, and his eyes flickered for a moment before he smiled. “Ah. That well. Surprising, but I am very proud of the way he has pursued you.”
“What the actual fuck.” She stared at him and heard a click.
Riko was still holding her hand, and his eyes widened, and he started to laugh.
Salmet was looking at them. “What? What am I missing?”
Riko snickered and pulled her in for a careful hug. “I am glad that he now has you in his life. You provide a bit of forward momentum for him that he has been lacking, and perhaps now, we can anchor him a little more firmly to Aksalla.”
“I thought he went where he was posted.” Khytten frowned.
Salmet shrugged. “This year, he has wanted to stay near your capitol city.”
“Oh. Oohh.” He had been staying close after he registered at Blind Date.
Riko snickered.
Khytten pulled her hand away. “That is enough of that. So, you are a direct reader.”
Salmet snorted. “And a sharpshooter.”
“Oh, that is why Salat is so excited about that?”
Salmet blinked. “About what, dear?”
“About my being a fairly good shot.” A click. “About me being a very good shot.”
Another click.
“About me being a fucking amazing shot.” There was a pause and then another click.
Riko looked at her. “There were more clicks, weren’t there?”
“Yeah, we have an audio link.”
Salmet tugged her into the sitting room and urged her to a couch across from the chairs. Khytten put her pack down at her feet.
“Clicks? I don’t understand.” Salmet gave her a politician’s smile.
“Uh, your husband can explain. I really don’t want to.”
“It is a punishment and reward system, Sal. Every time she curses or lies or does something he doesn’t like, Salat sends her a click. What has he hated most?”
Khytten grinned. “That is something I can show you.” She reached into the bag and pulled out the kitten mug. “I call him Little Salat. Salat is not a fan.”
Salmet extended her hand. “Ohmygod, it’s so cute. Where did you get it?”
She paused, and Riko touched her hand for a moment. “Ah. I understand. Sal, she doesn’t want to talk about it, and I don’t blame her.”
Jennela came in and smiled. “Glad to see you are getting along. Khytten, do you need to do anything before dinner?”
“Um, yeah. Please, excuse me.” She got to her feet, grabbed her pack, and ran before the Prefect of Aksalla wanted a demonstration.
Chapter Fourteen
Once things were stowed and stored for shipment, she brought them to Jennela. The drone arrived in three minutes, and the delivery was called into the hospital, so someone caught it on the roof.
Salmet asked, “So, that was for the hospital? Yes, I am aware of the nature of your adaptation. Sala
t was very clear on that.”
“Yes.”
Jennela smiled. “You will be relieved to know that Baby Acudan is doing well and is normalizing, Salmet. She is easing away from danger.”
Salmet swayed. “What? She is? How? Riko, did you hear? Baby Acudan is doing well and is no longer critical.”
Khytten watched as the two actives held each other close in relief. Khytten asked, “Who is Baby Acudan?”
“The first child you held. The teeny one. The one you got eating.”
Khytten nodded. “Got it. She will need a few more visits, but she should be fine.”
Salmet looked at her from her husband’s arms. “You did it?”
“No, my body did it. I just steered.”
Riko put his hand on her shoulder. “Thank you. She’s our first grandchild.”
Khytten remembered the feel of the little one in her hands. The tiny back barely bigger than her palm. The thrill of success when the little mouth started moving.
Riko smiled, and he blinked. “She looks good now. We will head there to visit her after dinner.”
“You are really direct about the invasion of privacy, aren’t you?”
Riko patted her shoulder. “Yes, I am.”
Salmet smiled. “He’s Aksalla’s best interrogator, but I get all the press.”
Jennela nodded. “Why don’t we take a turn in the gardens? Dinner will be ready in half an hour. Imira prefers that we are not looming in the area when she sets the table.”
Torenne returned, wearing a fresh dress, and Khytten growled at her.
Torenne laughed and walked up to hug her. “Enjoying meeting all the in-laws.”
Khytten stiffened and whispered, “This is not that kind of thing.”
Salmet smiled. “This is exactly that kind of thing. When he attended his brother’s engagement, he talked of you. Constantly. The entire time. Whatever you and Torenne were up to had him laughing and smiling, and I had my son back again. I haven’t seen him for decades. Salat became the Demon Cat in his training, and he hasn’t been himself since. Now, I hear that he is drawing comics again, designing costumes and weapons. Yes, I can see his touches in your clothing as well as Torenne’s.”
