“I have to be careful not to spill a drop, of course.” Keelah fluttered nervously. “That would be very bad luck. But just think—I’ll be pouring panta’lion wine for the Komendant himself! This must mean that Rep. Zerlix is going to keep me!”
“It must,” Bobbi agreed neutrally.
She didn’t like to say that she hoped her friend was right—living as the sadistic Saurian’s sexual plaything must be a horrible life. But of course, being given to another Clan where she would be passed from man to man would surely be worse. There were just no good choices for her new friend. Poor Keelah!
“I’m sure you’ll do fine,” she said, patting the Saurian girl’s arm. “You’ve got a steady hand—I saw the way you peeled and chopped those bullah bulbs—every chunk the same size. It was really impressive.”
“Oh, really?” Keelah blushed again and Bobbi got the idea that the Saurian girl hadn’t been given many compliments in her life.
“Yes, really,” she said firmly, hoping to bolster her friend’s confidence. “You’ve got this, Keelah—you’re going to do great, I know it.”
“Thank you, Bobbi.” The Saurian girl smiled gratefully. “You’re so kind.”
“Hey you—what’s your name again? Keely? Feely? Whatever it is, get the hell over here!” a voice snapped.
Looking up, Bobbi saw that it was Zerlix. He was at the far end of the table, snapping his scaly fingers for Keelah, as though she was a dog he was calling.
“Oh, I must go!” Keelah squeezed her hand quickly and whispered, “Wish me luck!” And then she hurried to the end of the table and seated herself at Zerlix’s side.
He doesn’t even know her name—arrogant bastard! Bobbi thought, watching them with disgust. Zerlix saw her looking and ran out his long, forked tongue, licking his lipless mouth in a leering salute that made her sick to her stomach.
“Don’t look at him,” a low voice in her ear commanded. “It only makes him act worse.”
Looking up, she saw that Dragon was closer to her now. He put a heavy arm around her shoulders and drew her to his side, shooting a brief warning glance at his Saurian brother.
“Let me introduce you to my Sire,” he said to her. “This is Komendant Vizlar—the male who adopted me after my biological family was killed by another Clan,” he added, pointing to the distinguished looking Saurian he’d been talking to earlier. His scales were going gray—maybe with age—and he had a look of wisdom in his yellow-green eyes.
“Oh, hello—it’s nice to meet you.” Bobbi held out her hand and then wondered if she should have. Did the Saurians shake hands? She didn’t know their formal greeting customs yet.
“My dear, it’s very nice to meet you. Welcome to our lovely planet.”
Komendant Vizlar was charming and soft spoken in a Godfather kind of way, Bobbi thought. He took her hand in his and wrapped his long, scaly thumb around her wrist before bowing low and flickering his forked tongue over the backs of her fingers.
Bobbi had to fight grimly not to jerk her hand away as the slimy tongue flickered over her skin. She was used to meeting other species and cultures by now and almost nothing disgusted her, but the feeling of that forked tongue sliding over her fingers caused an instant, intense loathing she could neither explain nor deny.
It’s just my survival instincts kicking in, she told herself uneasily. Back on Earth, anything with a long, forked tongue like that is probably poisonous or dangerous—of course my instinct is to want to jerk away.
But though she tried to tell herself it was only an instinctive reaction, she couldn’t help the gut feeling that Komendant Vizlar gave her. She didn’t trust the leader of the Crimson Blades Clan—not one bit. He made her skin crawl.
She did her best to hide her instinctive feelings for the older Saurian, however. Smiling brightly, she bowed her head to him.
“Thank you so much for your kind welcome, Komendant. I hope to see more of your planet and learn more about your culture while I’m here.”
“While you’re here? Are you thinking of going somewhere, my dear?” The Saurian Mob boss—because that was essentially what he was, Bobbi thought—raised his scaly eye ridges in apparent surprise.
“Oh, uh…” Bobbi wasn’t sure how to answer him, but Dragon apparently was.
“She’s not going anywhere, Sire,” he cut in smoothly. “I have Claimed Bobbi for my female and I intend to make her my wife.”
“Your wife?” Bobbi choked out. “Are you asking me to marry you?” she demanded, looking up at the big Kindred. “This is the first I’m hearing of this!”
“Of course it is,” Dragon said mildly. “I must declare my intentions to my Sire first.”
“Well, well and you certainly have.” Komendant Vizlar looked up at his adopted son with an appraising look in his greenish-yellow eyes. “So you wish to marry this little female? Not just use her for your pleasure and pass her on, Son?”