CHAPTER SIX
Lore suddenly wantedto cancel the entire thing as he realized he lacked important skills for his intended engagement. He was a teacher, and she was not his student. He was a Creole King, and she was not one of his staff. There were so few female equals in his life, he had no idea how to behave with her. And the idea of walking the castle under the acoustic pretense while mentally eating his human dessert seemed a foolish torment.
He paused at the door, and she paused too.
“Is something wrong?”
“I must be honest with you,” he began, suddenly realizing he didn’t even know what sounds to produce at this crossroad. “The acoustics is not my only or first reason for asking you to join me tonight. Would you mind sitting with me that I may properly introduce myself and explain?”
The change in her breathing and heart rate alarmed him.
“Whatever it is you fear with me, I can assure you it’s unnecessary.”
“I’m not afraid, Mr. Lore, I’m cautious.”
The half-truth intrigued him. “An admirable and wise trait.” He gestured to the nearest table, and she nodded, heading for it. He organized his thoughts as he followed, realizing he wasn’t much better off. He’d gotten himself out of one mess and placed himself in another. Now what?
The second she pulled her own chair out, he remembered that was his job. He mentally ripped the play page from his brain and tossed it as he sat, staring at the table and the blank slate in his mind.
“As you were saying,” she prompted.
“Yes,” he said, stumbling inside himself. “I have never done a thing like this before,” he half marveled. “My vocation doesn’t permit me to speak to women.” He closed his eyes. “I surely speak to women,” he corrected. “I’m a teacher at the Creole King Academy for the gifted. There are thirteen Kings at this academy and all of us have remained celibate.” He eyed her expectant gaze, realizing his words had taken him to the last corner he wanted to be in. Telling her he’d been bitten by a bat crazed man or that they were prophetic Kings with fantastical coins ushering in a golden era was just the crazy he’d wanted to avoid. “I have found myself in a mental corner,” he confessed, hoping his tone drew on her patience and sympathy.
“What exactly is the other reason you needed me for?”
The direct approach spun him in various directions in his head as his gifts picked up an increase in agitation. “Natasha—”
“Miss Sheridan, if you don’t mind.”
Lore stilled at the correction, realizing his mistake. “My apologies for being forward.” What was he doing? There, with her? The second he dared to meet her gaze it all came back to him. “I like you,” he said on a single breath. “From the moment I saw you in the hall,” he hurried, ripping the bandage off. “The vision of you haunts me. The feel of your hand and the taste of your skin, I have never experienced such a thing in my life and... I was hoping to know you better.”
His words cut off there and he closed his mouth, realizing he’d said the entire confession without strategically using his gifts.
She lowered her gaze to her lap, drawing her brows together. “I’m afraid that’s not a good idea because...”
His hope held as he picked up on her inner struggle. “The soldiers,” he remembered. “That you’re here to help with.” He’d nearly said evolve but didn’t want to open that door due to what it entailed.
“You know?” she said, worried.
“I was informed, yes. But I was also told nothing was official until the union was formed.”
Her confusion scraped along his skin. “I’m not sure what you mean, we’ve all agreed. In writing,” she added.
“I understood—”
“From who?”
“Dr. Harlow.”
“Are you saying you asked him permission to... do this? With me?”
His instincts kicked into gear at the first sign of her anger. “I asked permission because it’s proper,” he said. “I was informed of the arrangement.”
“And he said it wasn’t official? He used those words?”
“He said you were free to do as you pleased. I didn’t press beyond this. Forgive me, I see I”ve overstepped.”
“You have not overstepped,” she assured even as her gaze held hesitation. “I’m just confused, I was under the impression our arrangement here was official.”
She stood and began pacing.
“It is surely official if you wish it to be. This was my understanding.”
Her anger grew quickly, electrifying the air. “Unless some man, some elite should want me, then it’s another deal to make, isn’t it? How much money was I worth?” She shot out a single, angry laugh. “What am I thinking, I’m hardly of any real value, I’m one of a million nuns they can siphon from the churches and use for whatever the hell they want.”
Lore watched as she headed for the door. He broke through his shock and hurried after her. “Miss Sheridan, you misunderstand.”
She whipped around and faced him, tears making her eyes glitter like gold. “Don’t lie to me, Mr. Lore. I know your filthy kind. You’re above every law that exists and whatever you want, you get, and it doesn’t matter what you maim or crush or kill to get it.”
“Natasha,” he pled.
“Go on then,” she said, placing herself just before him. “Do it,” she dared. “Take it. Take what you want, I have no say in it.”
His hunger flared at the invitation, and he stepped back.
“What’s wrong?” she gasped, pushing him. “Is the King shocked?” She pushed him again. “You’ve never had your precious cargo fight back?” Again she shoved him, her anger feeding his arousal. His back met a wall on her next push, and she bravely stood mere inches before him, hate and loathing in her gaze. “What’s the matter? Am I too much work for you, Mr. King? Did you want a sex slave that lays down and takes it? Well, that’s never going to happen, I’m done laying down to die and if you’re not forcing me, then I’m marrying a soldier that will protect me from people like you.”
She spun away and he snatched her arm, pulling her against him. At seeing the flare of desire in her eyes, he covered her shocked mouth with his and kissed her. She latched her fingers to his face and held him, the tiny act declaring war inside him.
“I am not that kind of man,” he swore. His gifts wrapped the words in truth and blasted them into her lungs.
She gasped in response and fought to kiss him back. Lore searched along her dress, desperate to get to the silk under the barrier. His other hand moved to her neck and jaw, feeling how real she was, how perfect as their tongues danced to their merciless, buried hungers.
“I need to feel you,” he said, as he fought with her skirt, getting her immediate assistance. She grabbed his hand and moved it right to the treasure he had to have, her breaths hot.
Their moans clashed the second his fingers slid in her panties. She was boiling hot and silky, and her hunger somehow rivaled his.
“Lore!” she cried as he found her entrance and slid his middle finger inside her. She held his wrist, forcing him as deep as he could go, her moans quickly peaking as she clawed his skin and flicked her hips into his grinding palm. Her orgasm hit him as hard as it did her, right as voices reached him from the hall. He spun with her behind the bookshelf, his hand still hammering against her body. He covered her cries with his groaning mouth as fire raged through him. The voices faded, leaving only their shocked breaths in the aftermath of ecstasy.
At feeling her trying to pull away, he held her against him and pressed her tiny head against his chest. The idea of her being with a cyborg suddenly panicked and enraged him. He was ready to offer whatever sum of money he needed to have her, do whatever was required.
“Let me go,” she pled.
Her tiny beg wreaked havoc in him as he complied. He watched as she ran to the door, the need to stop her nowhere within him. Because it wasn’t necessary. She was now his lethal obsession. And there was nowhere either of them could run to escape it.
****
CELESTE NEEDED TO GETa hold of herself. Kaphas needed her to be a...an example of...sisterly strength. And a friend. Mercy, he was only seventeen, a precious...young boy, not even a man.
She swallowed, keeping her gaze off his naked upper body. He went without covering because it bothered his skin, which practically demanded the human eyeball to stare right at. Mostly because all the black on it seemed to move, she was sure. She didn’t want to ask in case he was embarrassed or considered it... private.
“I can sleep on the floor,” he said, pointing to a corner.
“Oh... I.” She eyed her bed and then the love seat. “I can sleep there,” she pointed to it, “and you can have the bed. It’s the proper way.”
“According to who?” he wondered, aiming his greatest distraction right at her—his eyes. They also changed colors it seemed. Always various shades of gold.
“The bible,” she sputtered without thought. “Bible etiquette.” Which he clearly had never heard of, he was only two days old. No, seventeen. And would be twenty-two tomorrow. Then twenty-seven the next day. She was twenty-eight. After, he’d move on to thirty-two.
“This was probably a bad idea,” he said, lowering his head.
“What?” she panicked. “Why?”
“You’re not comfortable with me here. I’m not Handy,” he said, or dear Lord apologized.
“No, you’re not, you’re Kaphas. Your very own, very handsome self. Nearly a man. And you’ll get a woman that loves you very much, I’m adamantly certain of it.”
“I think I imprinted on you,” he muttered, walking to the bed and laying on it, putting his hands behind his head while staring at the ceiling.
“What do you mean?”
“You were the first woman I met and now I can’t imagine having another. Maybe for my next birthday that’ll change.”
Her stomach filled with a myriad of things that made it hurt and she didn’t dare examine a single one of them. “It will be what it will be,” she whispered, hurrying to the bed and getting a pillow.
“This bed is big enough for both of us. I trust you not to touch me.”
The smile he gave added to the mess in her stomach, making it hard to breathe. He was teasing her again. “I trust you,” she reminded him, or herself.
He looked right at her. “Do you?”
Holding his terribly handsome expression felt like a grave sin. “I do,” she said.
He patted the mattress. “Prove it.”
She eyed the spot, her head already shaking. “I shouldn’t.”
“Why?”
“Because... I’m very sure Handy wouldn’t like that at all. I know I wouldn’t like it if Handy were to...lay this way with one of my sisters. Unless he...didn’t choose me of course.”
He returned to staring at the ceiling. “I’m behaving like a two-day old,” he muttered. “I just... don’t like being alone.”
Her heart lurched at hearing this as she remembered his age and inexperience. “I suppose I could sleep near you if you agree there can be no touching.”
His gratitude came in his smile and Celeste was sure it was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen. Mercy, how could such a thing be? She returned to the bed with her pillow. “Don’t you want to...get under the covers?” she wondered. “Or do you not get cold?”
He hopped up and opened the covers, climbing back in with them up to his neck. The look on his face reminded her of an innocent child and tugged in her chest. “Oh dear,” she whispered.
“What’s wrong?”
“I just realized I’m not even dressed for bed!” She hurried to the bathroom and got out of her habit then into her night gown. She stared at herself in the mirror, wondering what to do about her hair. She normally slept with it down.
She removed the pins and then the braids, quickly passing her fingers through it before turning from the mirror. She didn’t like looking in it more than was absolutely necessary. Vanity had no place in her vocation and mirrors were portals of that exact temptation.
She left the bathroom light on for a nightlight then turned off the room light before hurrying to her side of the bed. She dropped to her knees, clasped her hands before her and closed her eyes. “I must pray first,” she thought to inform him, remembering he likely didn’t know. “I do this every night.”
“What do you pray?”
She cracked one eye open, finding him lying on his side, facing her with his arm propping up his beautiful head. She forced her attention on the question. “Well, I pray for many things.”
“Can you do it out loud?”
Both her eyes opened now, considering it. “I prefer to do it in secret, but a demonstration is probably the right thing in your case.”
“Why do you prefer to do it in secret?” he asked, his voice low and soft.
“Because God hears in secret.”
“Why can he only hear in secret?”
“Oh, He most certainly can hear in any way I speak, but He doesn’t like people to make a production of it. I guess He likes when we treat it more...”
“Intimate?”
Her heart skipped a beat at the way he said it. She was sure it was not that sort of intimate. “It’s more special I guess.”
“I can understand that,” he said, watching her.
“I’ll... go ahead now.” She closed her eyes, getting to her usual list. “Lord please bless Sister Isla and Sister Rowan and Sister Lucy and Sister Miranda, and Sister Elanore, and Sister Rosalie, and Sister Maya, and Sister Callie, and Sister Charlotte, and Sister Scarlett, and Sister Julia, and Sister Gina. Please bless the Sisters at St Mary’s Sisterhood and all the Sisters everywhere in the world. Please help Mother Superior find her way to repentance that she may lead the Sisters in your love and mercy. And please help Father Larson reap the sins he sows, that he too may find the path to repentance and forgiveness. Lord, bless all the children in all the world, may their angels protect them at all times. Bless the mothers and the fathers, guide them in their vocations to love their children in a way that is pleasing in your sight. Bless our fearless leader and soldiers being prepared to fight the war of good and evil. Give us all the courage to do what is good and right in your eyes. And...please continue to protect Handy as I know you have been, wherever he is. Please comfort him at this very difficult time in his life and lead him back to me if this is your will. And finally, please bless my dear friend Kaphas. He’s brand new in the world and needs all the guidance he can get. Please direct me in how to best help him and...let Handy know he’s just a dear friend. And when Handy does come back, give me the strength and courage to accept my fate with him. I pray these things dear Father in your son’s precious name. Amen.”
She crossed herself, kissed her fingers and sent it up to Heaven then hurried under the covers, putting her back to him.
Her eyes widened when he rolled, getting close enough that she felt his body heat. “Are you sure you’re not an angel?” he whispered.
“Very sure,” she gasped, swallowing down her rising panic. “You’re very close.”
“I’m not even touching you,” he said in light defense.
“But...I can feel your heat.”
“Harlow says I run hotter than is normal. They’ll check it tomorrow.”
Oh no. “Is it...like a sickness?”
“Maybe.”
She felt him roll away and released a shaky breath. “Do you feel...okay?”
“Everything hurts still.”
She turned barely, aiming her gaze near her shoulder. “Hurts how?”
“Like...somebody strapped bombs to my bones and blew them all up.”
She turned more. “Really?” she whispered, horrified imagining. “How will you sleep?”
“I doubt that I will.”
She thought about that then turned onto her back. “Then I will stay awake with you.”
“What if she doesn’t like me? The sister that I get.”
She clenched her toes open and shut, taking a deep breath. “I don’t think that’s possible.”
“What if it is?”
“Well, then I’ll say she’s dumb as a rock.”
“Are they pretty like you?”
“Much more so,” she assured, her stomach knotting at the topic.
“I wonder what it would be like.”
She looked at his profile, dark in the low light. “What?”
“To be your Handy.”
Oh dear. Her chest heaved with more things than she understood. “I suppose you’ll know when you get the perfect sister. She will make you feel like a king.”
“What if I get with a sister and Handy never returns?”
She closed her eyes tightly at such a tragedy. “Then...I will accept my fate.”
He turned on his side, facing her. “Will you be sorry you didn’t pick me?”
She sensed he desperately needed her to be. “I would kick myself till I fell of the planet, I think.”
She smiled at his deep chuckle. “I might pretend to die until my dreadful wife found another and when she did, I would resurrect and find you.”
It was her turn to laugh. “You would not!”
“I think I would.”
“That’s the most silly thing, ever, Kaphas.”
“But you like it,” he softly accused.
She sputtered a little. “What woman wouldn’t like it? I’m just a girl underneath this...”
“Gown?”
Her pulse went through the roof. “I meant in a vocational sense.”
He turned on his back again with a sigh. “I know. But I still want to see what a human girl looks like. What if I find her repulsive?”
“She will not be repulsive!” she cried, back to smiling.
“What if I don’t like the female human body? What if I’m so shocked that she dies of shame?”
“Oh dear, it is one of our greatest fears, you know,” she said quietly.
“Is it?”
She sat up at hearing his doubt. “Emphatically! It’s a girl’s greatest fear what her husband will think of her.”
“Do you think a man doesn’t have these fears?” he asked.
Her mouth dropped open at the surprising thought. “No,” she answered, none to certain now.
“Well, you’d be emphatically wrong. I happen to have a great terror about it.”
“About what?” she wondered, truly clueless.
“What she will think of my body,” he patiently stressed.
She shot out a laugh and lay back down, smashing the covers down next to her body. “Now you’re just teasing again. You were given the body of a demigod, of course every woman will absolutely love it.”
“You sound so very sure and yet...I don’t believe it,” he informed, matter-of-factly, again shocking her.
“Are you being intentionally dense?”
“I don’t care what you say, it won’t remove the fear.”
“Then...you should try looking in the mirror and then you will see.”
“Do you see your beauty when you look in the mirror?”
His words stunned her. The truth of them. “I do not.”
“What if it’s the same with me?”
She looked toward him, unable to imagine such a tragedy as him not seeing his beauty.
“And what if I’m broken?” he wondered now. “What if when it comes time to do the things a husband is supposed to, I can’t?”
She got up on her elbows at this. “Well...won’t you know this once you’re done growing?”
“I don’t know. Should a seventeen-year-old know this?”
“I...would think so.”
“I don’t. I have no idea.”
She considered that, her worry growing. “There are books.”
“How do you know?”
“I’m a nurse, I know a lot about these things.”
He turned on his side again. “You do?”
“Yes,” she said, anxiety popping up.
“Do...nurses teach such things?”
Her back hit the bed with a huff as she closed her eyes, wondering how she colored herself into these corners. “They do sometimes.”
“Well...can you teach me?”
“Teach you what?” she barely cried. “How to see your own beauty? I cannot teach you that.”
“I don’t even know how to kiss. Won’t I need to know that?”
“I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”
“But what if I don’t? And...what if I hate it? Mouths coming together. This seems...very unsanitary.”
Her laugh snickered out. “I once thought the very same thing.”
“Have you kissed before?” he asked, hopeful.
“Not...in the unsanitary way. And once I became a nun, I was exempt.”
“And now you’re not.”
She took in a deep breath. “No. Now I’m not.”
“So,” he relented with a sigh. “Which of your sisters should I pursue? Maybe she will show me how to kiss. And do other things.”
“Well, she can’t until you marry her,” she assured.
“Why not?”
“Because Isla will kill you, that’s why! And she’s our sister and the wife of the Big Boss.”
“Quantum.”
“Yes.”
“So, then you can show me. As a nurse would.”
“A nurse would not show that.”
“Why? Isn’t it a normal biological function?”
“Yes, but I’m not doing it.”
“What if I beg?”
“No!”
“What if I pay you money?”
She giggled. “You’re two days old! You have a job?”
“I can borrow it.”
She laughed. “Who will you borrow from?”
He got on his elbow, grinning down at her. “Do you have money I can borrow?”
Her laughter split the air loud and very unladylike.
He lay back down. “Never mind.”
“What, you don’t want to learn now?” she marveled, catching her breath.
“I don’t. And I have to confess something.”
“What?” she wondered, sobering.
“I do know how to kiss. I know everything I need to know as a husband. My wife will know more pleasure than she’s ever known in her entire life.”
Anger flooded her like a fire and she turned over, putting her back to him. “Lying is a sin, Kaphas.”
He was quiet for two of her angry breaths. “I think it’s called joking. Celeste.”
“Call it what you want, it’s deceiving and deceivers can’t be trusted.”
“So now you don’t trust me? Because I joked?”
“A joke is ‘knock-knock, who’s there’, not what you just did.”
“Well...I did confess. I hope you can forgive me.”
Her chest loosened a little at his soft tone. “I can,” she mumbled, feeling sick to her stomach and again not wanting to think about why. It was more than him having a birthday where he died, and she’d promised to hold his hand through it. Shameful tears stung her eyes as she allowed the truth to peek in. What if he was right? What if Handy didn’t come back and he picked another sister? And he would give her more pleasure than she’d ever known in her life? That would be a tragedy she might not survive.
“Good night, Celeste,” he said softly.
She wiped her silent tears. “Good night, Kaphas.”