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Delivered by the Defender (Kindred Tales)

Page 7

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A male wouldn’t have aroused his cravings—he doubted if even another kind of human female would have—the thin ones held little appeal for him. But a curvy, mature Elite? How could he completely ignore such blatant temptation?

Goddess, give me strength, he thought, studying her from the corner of his eye, though he knew he ought to be studying the notes for his upcoming deposition instead. She was so lovely with her long dark hair and her big, full breasts… Breasts which were currently exposed, since the sweater she was wearing had slipped away from them, revealing their roundness under the thin cotton t-shirt she had on.

He could see large, dark nipples pressing straight out against the thin fabric as she bent her head to study the book she was reading. The sight, along with her sweet fragrance which proclaimed to anyone who could smell it that she was single, made his shaft go hard in the tight confines of his trousers.

And then, to Valen’s dismay, his fangs began to sharpen too! Which was really not right—they usually didn’t get sharp until he was about to sink them into a blood donor’s wrist. And even then they didn’t get extremely sharp—just sharp enough to pierce the flesh. Now they felt like razor blades when he carefully explored them with his tongue. What was wrong with him? Why was he reacting to the little Elite beside him so strongly?

It’s just the Blood Hunger, he told himself uneasily, trying to return his focus to the lighted info-tablet in front of him. That’s all—ignore it.

That should be no problem—he was used to ignoring the Blood Hunger. Since he only allowed himself to visit a professional donor once a week—sometimes even less—he always felt just on the edge of starvation. He was used to the Hunger gnawing at him with its sharp little rat’s teeth—demanding to be fed when it was neither convenient or practical to do so.

Valen had lived with the gnawing hunger for blood since he had reached maturity and it had first come on him. But he had determined early on that he would not give in to the urge until he had to. His kind were pitied by the other Blood Kindred because they could not bite to feed and inject their Essence at the same time. It was the Essence—the pale blue liquid all Blood Kindred’s fangs secreted—that gave a female pleasure when they were bitten.

So, Valen’s bite was painful to a female when he bit to feed from her, rather than pleasurable, as a regular Blood Kindred’s bite was. Of course, he could inject his Essence if he wasn’t biting for blood—but that was something a male only did with a female he wanted to Claim. And Valen was never going to Claim a bride—he had sworn it to himself after a single, extremely bad experience with a female he had never meant to hurt or frighten…

No, don’t think about that, he told himself sharply. No sense in reliving the past.

It was better to forget about having any kind of meaningful relationship, like his friend Broud had. Better to concentrate on work, so he could be ready for the deposition he had to deal with on Ma’shorka Centra…

Resolutely, he stared down at the lighted screen, trying to memorize the details of the case he was about to argue. But the warm, sweet fragrance of the curvy Elite beside him—and the occasional sight of her hard nipples poking at the thin fabric of her shirt—made certain that his shaft stayed hard as a beam of steel inside his trousers, which was fucking annoying.

Why did she have to be so damned attractive?

4

Selena had been nervous about passing through the fold—the red gash in space that the Mother Ship opened for the shuttle, in order to get to Ma’shorka Centra—but it wasn’t nearly as scary as she’d feared.

First the flight attendant came around and asked for a negative pregnancy test to be sure she was able to take the trip. Blushing, Selena had handed her the white flower she’d gotten from the test she’d taken at the little testing kiosk right before boarding. Apparently, it was dangerous to fold space if you were pregnant, so all the women of childbearing age had to prove they weren’t.

One of the other women on board had gotten two blue flowers from her test—which apparently indicated she was pregnant and carrying twin boys.

“But what am I going to do?” she’d begged the flight attendant, when the woman had told her firmly but kindly that she must get off the shuttle “I’m going to meet my Twin Kindred husbands who are both working on Ma’shorka Centra. I haven’t seen them in almost a month and I miss them so much!”

“Don’t worry, sweetie,” the attendant told her cheerfully. “We have a special shuttle that takes stable wormholes instead of folding space, just for pregnant ladies. It takes a little longer to get there, but you’ll still get to be with your hubbies by tonight. And think of the wonderful surprise you’ll have to tell them!”


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