Raised to Kill

Brand still looked rather stunned.

“Sure, baby,” he murmured. “Unless Selena has somewhere she needs to be.”

The music teacher shook her head.

“No, of course not. Let’s see what else she can learn.”

Eighteen

The rest of the morning and early afternoon were sheer delight to Allara. Selena produced another adjustable mouthpiece and she was able to try all the brass instruments and all the stringed instruments as well. The only difficulty she found was with the vio-lin. It sometimes made awful, screeching noises at first—scraping her skin like a saw with sharp teeth and making her gasp and nearly drop the instrument.

“Take it easy,” Selena advised her. “You just don’t quite have the right technique yet. You have to know how to hold the bow.”

“I think it will take me more than one lesson,” Allara said frowning in disappointment as she laid the instrument down carefully. She had wanted to make the vio-lin’s Song her own so badly!

“Don’t worry, you can come back for a second lesson before you play Carnegie Hall,” Selena said dryly. “Considering you played every other instrument like you’ve been doing it for years, I’d say you’re doing all right.”

“Thank you so much for giving me the opportunity,” Allara said politely. But then her emotions overcame her and she gave the other woman a swift hug and a kiss on the cheek. “This truly has been the most amazing experience of my life,” she told Selena, who started laughing.

“Glad you got your money’s worth,” she said, hugging Allara back. “But you should thank your new hubby—he’s the one who looked me up and asked me to give you lessons.”

“Oh, yes!” Allara turned to her new husband with shining eyes. At that moment, she had forgotten her mission entirely.

She forgot he was the evil one and the enemy of her people and that she must kill him and then kill herself to satisfy the Blood Feud. She only remembered that he was the one who had given her this opportunity—a chance she would never have gotten had she stayed among the Q’ess.

He saw the look on her face and knelt with his arms outstretched, just as he had when he kissed her goodbye. Allara ran to him, her heart full to overflowing with all the music and the many different Songs she had learned that day. He was the author of this day—the one who had made it all possible. She was not usually effusive—her aunt and father did not allow such things. But they were not here and Brand was.

“Oh husband, thank you! Thank you!” she exclaimed, and covered his face in kisses.

Brand laughed and kissed her back. In the process, their lips met and then Allara suddenly found they were kissing mouth-to-mouth again.

The sensation of the big Kindred’s lips against her own sent a pleasurable shock through her and she opened her mouth in a little gasp. Brand’s tongue was there at once, lapping gently at the inside of her mouth, teasing her, daring her to try more.

His scent was all around her, overwhelming her senses and Allara found she wanted more and more of him. Daringly, she darted her own tongue into his mouth and he sucked on it gently, deepening the kiss. His big hands were gentle and eager as he rubbed her back in long, slow strokes.

Neither of them noticed when Selena left, quietly closing the door behind her. They were too wrapped up in each other and Allara had forgotten everything except this new pleasure of kissing her husband mouth-to-mouth.

She had always been hot-blooded—or so her Aunt claimed after catching her touching her forbidden areas. The Songs of others and the Songs of instruments seemed to affect her more than most people at the Song House. Or maybe others were just better than Allara was at hiding the way the music touched them and made them feel.

Now, her hot blood made her body feel flushed all over with need—the same need she felt when her new husband used his Song to caress her. But what was it, exactly, that she needed?

Allara didn’t know.

She wondered if her long-ago ancestress had been subject to any of these strange problems Allara herself was facing. Had she found the evil one who carried her away devastatingly attractive? Had his Song and his scent made her body react?

Is that why she never came home? Allara wondered. In the stories of her family, the ancestress who had been abducted had never been allowed to go back to her people and her Song was lost forever. But maybe she had stayed of her own volition, stayed with the Kindred who had taken her.

The thought of her ancestress brought back the memory of her mission. What was wrong with her? Why was she kissing the big Kindred when she ought to have been plotting to kill him?