Hidden Rage: Kindred Tales

Dragon frowned and loomed over her.

“Let me see your hands,” he ordered. “Now, Bobbi—I mean it.”

She wanted to run away, but there was no place to run. There were no windows and the big Kindred was between her and the door. Finally, unwillingly, she drew her hands out from behind her back and held them out for his inspection.

“I think I must be having some kind of allergic reaction to the food we ate tonight,” she explained as he took her hands in his much larger ones and examined her red fingertips closely. “Or maybe it was the wine—it had such a bitter aftertaste!”

Dragon’s head jerked up sharply and he frowned at her.

“Panta’lion wine has no bitterness at all. It’s known for its sweet, smooth finish.”

“Well then maybe I got some from a bad batch,” Bobbi said. “Because the last drink I had was bitter—gritty, too.” She made a face. “I can still taste it on the back of my tongue.”

“Fuck.” Dragon released her and ran a hand over his hair. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” he growled.

“What? What is it? What’s wrong?” Bobbi demanded.

His reaction frightened her almost more than the initial problem. The big Kindred almost never got ruffled when they were alone together but this seemed to make him really upset. A dark suspicion began growing in her mind.

“Is it poison? Have I been given poison?” she demanded, staring at him. “Tell me, Dragon—I need to know!”

“No, it’s not poison but you’ve certainly been given something,” he muttered. He looked at her sharply. “Tell me, how are you feeling right now?”

“Oh, um…” Bobbi shifted from foot to foot, pressing her thighs together nervously. She couldn’t actually tell him what was wrong with her—couldn’t explain about the invisible vibrator that was teasing her pussy unmercifully, could she? “I’m f—” she began.

“Don’t say you’re fine,” Dragon growled warningly. “Because you’re not fine—especially if you’ve been given what I think you’ve been given.”

“And what do you think I’ve been given?” Bobbi demanded, putting her hands on her hips.

Dragon sighed and ran a hand over his thick, black hair.

“Come out into the sleeping chamber and I’ll tell you.”

He turned and headed for the door. Bobbi paused for a moment but really, what choice did she have? With no other option, she took a deep breath and followed him.

32

Dragon paced back and forth, cursing to himself. This was all Zerlix’s doing—it had to be. He remembered now, that he’d felt a twinge of suspicion when his Big Brother had offered to take the seat at the far end of the head table and allow his female to take on the wine-pouring duties.

Pouring the wine for everyone was something of an honor…but it was also a humbling experience. By pouring wine for the entire table, you were serving everyone there—even those with a lower rank than yourself. Dragon had never known his adoptive brother to humble himself in any way.

“I should have known,” he muttered to himself. “Should have figured out that he was up to no good.”

“That who was up to no good? What happened? What was I given?” Bobbi demanded. “Was it in the wine?”

Dragon sighed and stopped pacing long enough to look at her.

“Yes, it was in the wine,” he said heavily. “I’m pretty sure I know what it is, but I need you to tell me your symptoms—all your symptoms,” he added, warningly, when she looked away and got that look on her face that told him she was about to dissemble.

“Well, I…my fingertips have turned red, as you see,” she said slowly, turning her little hands palm-out, to show the red-tipped fingers again.

“Yes, and…?” Dragon made a “go on” motion with one hand.

“And…and they burn me when I try to…when I make, uh, contact with myself,” she said hesitantly.

Dragon frowned at her warningly.

“When you try to make contact with what part of yourself?” he asked.

“With…between my legs, all right?” she flared defensively. “Because it feels like something is…is buzzing me down there and it’s driving me freaking crazy! I mean, I can’t stand it anymore, but every time I try to…to help myself, it feels like I just stuck a red-hot poker down my panties!”

Her cheeks were glowing pink with embarrassment and her little hands were curled into fists at her sides. Her hair was a wild, flame-colored halo around her head and she was breathing hard, her full breasts heaving under the bright red dress. Dragon could see the hard little tips of her ripe nipples poking out from under the thin material and he could see the defensiveness and worry in her big, blue eyes.

He thought she had never looked so beautiful.

A rush of emotions washed over him—intense wonder at her wild beauty, admiration for her courageous defiance, desire for her beautiful body… But all of these were tempered with a deep reluctance for what he must do next.