18. Clair #3
She picked up a glassberry and shoved it into her mouth as she looked away. Their research was getting entirely too personal.
For several seconds neither of them spoke. Then Clair cleared her throat and tried to change the subject.
“So what else happened today?” she asked. “Did you and Sendar find anything else?”
Kaelus’s expression darkened alarmingly.
“I do not trust Sendar.”
Clair swallowed the berry.
“That makes two of us. There’s something creepy about that guy.”
“He took me into an old section of the Blood Archive,” Kaelus said, choosing another fireplum.
“How old?” Clair asked.
“Nearly a thousand years. Possibly older. There is a containment ward there.” He took a bite of plum.
Clair frowned.
“For what? What were they containing.”
“Males infected with the old savage form of the virus,” Kaelus said.
He described the room—the dark stone walls, the ancient medical equipment, the massive black restraint chairs bolted into the floor with cuffs designed to hold violent males who could no longer control themselves.
Clair shivered.
“That sounds horrible.”
He nodded soberly.
“It was.”
“Do they still use it for anything?” Clair asked.
Kaelus shook his head.
“Sendar said they don’t, but the restraints still function.”
Clair frowned.
“Why would anyone care enough to keep them functional?”
“I asked the same thing,” Kaelus said.
He told her Sendar’s explanation that the old ward had been preserved for historical purposes, then his tone changed as he recounted the conversation which followed.
Clair listened in growing disbelief.
“He said the Titus Four men were chemically enslaved by their women?”
He nodded.
“In essence.”
“What an asshole!” Clair said fiercely.
Kaelus’s mouth twitched.
“That was not the terminology I used.”
“Well, it should have been.”
“He believes the traditions of Titus Four are humiliating to males,” Kaelus went on. “Carrying burdens…serving women first…kneeling…the ownership bands.”
Clair’s eyes went to the silver band around his arm.
“You could take that off, you know.”
Kaelus looked down at it.
“No,” he said simply.
The single word surprised her.
“You don’t have to wear it when nobody’s around,” she pointed out. “I mean, it’s not like I really own you.”
“I know,” he murmured, holding her eyes with his. “But I want to keep it on anyway.”
Clair felt as if a thousand butterflies had taken off inside her stomach. She opened her mouth, but Kaelus put up a hand.
“Don’t make anything of it,” he warned. “It doesn’t mean anything. I just…like wearing it.”
“Of course.” Clair tried not to smile. “I didn’t say anything.”
“You were about to.”
“I was not.”
“You were.”
Clair smiled.
“Well…maybe.”
Kaelus shook his head and got back to business.
“Sendar also believes the males here have become biologically dependent upon females,” he said.
Clair frowned.
“He actually said that?”
“Yes. Women consume substances males do not. Their bodies produce different metabolites. He believes intimate proximity to females may have become necessary for male stability. And he resents the Seven Hells out of it,” Kaelus added darkly.
Clair pointed at their matching molecules.
“He knows what’s going on. Maybe not everything, but he knows something. That isn’t some random philosophical opinion. He practically described what we just discovered.”
The big Hybrid nodded.
“I agree.”
“Then why was he trying to steer you away from it?” she asked.
Kaelus shook his head.
“I don’t know. That’s what concerns me. But there’s more.”
Clair frowned.
“Oh, good. Because this wasn’t creepy enough.”
“It gets creepier,” Kaelus assured her and told her about Galandra.
By the time he finished describing the dead woman’s supposed accident, Clair was staring at him.
“Let me get this straight…Sendar’s wife was a scientist at the Blood Archive, and she was researching the ancient Savage Period records.”
Kaelus nodded.
“Yes. Records which he denied me access to, by the way.”
“That asshole!” Clair muttered. “Anyway, so his wife found inconsistencies and she became ‘obsessed’ with them.”
Kaelus nodded again.
“That was his exact word.”
“And then she took a sedative, got into a bathtub alone, fell asleep, and drowned?” Clair asked. “Doesn’t that seem suspicious to you?”
Kaelus gave her a grim look.
“Yes, it does. My thoughts exactly.”
“And Sendar just happened to be working late so he wasn’t there to save her. And all this happened on a planet where husbands practically follow their wives into the bathroom to make sure they don’t slip on the floor.”
Kaelus’s expression tightened.
“What I’m wondering is if there is any actual proof that he was where he said he was.”
“I doubt it,” Clair said skeptically. “I know the Kindred don’t hurt their wives but on Earth when a woman dies, the police always look at the husband or boyfriend first. Only here on Titus Four, where all the males are so careful and loving with their wives, no one would even suspect the husband.”
“So they wouldn’t bother to check further into Sendar’s story,” Kaelus remarked. “And we’re supposed to believe Sendar knew his exhausted wife was taking something strong enough to help her sleep and just left her alone to soak in a deep bathing pool?”
“And then she conveniently dies while investigating the exact records he refuses to let you see,” Clair said.
“Yes.” Kaelus nodded.
Clair shook her head.
“That man killed his wife.”
“We do not know that for certain,” Kaelus said cautiously. “We have no proof. All we can say is that we strongly suspect it.”
“I’m comfortable upgrading ‘strongly suspect’ to ‘pretty damn sure,” Clair said.
Kaelus frowned.
“I am not.”
“That is because you are annoyingly responsible,” Clair told him.
He gave her a look.
“One of us should be.”
Clair stuck her tongue out at him and he shook his head.
“I’m so glad to have such a serious and mature wife,” he said dryly.
Clair laughed. She was about to say something about how being mature and serious all the time was no fun, when a soft chime sounded at the door of their suite, startling her.
“Oh!”
Clair jumped.
Kaelus’s hand immediately moved toward her, as though even a door chime might require him to protect her.
“Come in,” he called but the door was already opening before the words left his mouth.
Maera appeared in the doorway, wearing a flowing lavender robe and an enormous smile.
“Wonderful! You are both here.”
Clair smiled at their hostess.
“Yes indeed, here we are, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed,” she said.
Maera looked slightly confused, but appeared to decide to ignore the Southern saying.
“And you have eaten?” she inquired.
“We have.” Kaelus nodded.
“The fruit was delicious,” Clair added.
Maera smiled
“Oh good—I’m so glad you enjoyed it. Then you are ready.”
Clair and Kaelus exchanged a glance.
“Ready for what, exactly?” Clair asked cautiously.
Maera clasped her hands together.
“Ready for massage night, of course!”
Kaelus frowned.
“And what exactly does ‘massage night’ entail.”
“Why, you’re going to learn how to massage and pleasure your goddess properly, of course,” Maera told him. “You’re lucky—Varell is an expert. I should know—he’s been massaging me for years.”
“He’s going to teach me massage techniques?” Kaelus asked, his frown deepening.
“Among other things.” Maera winked. “Don’t worry—he’ll be working on me at the same time you’re massaging Clair. All you have to do is follow his lead.”
“I do not think Clair requires a massage,” Kaelus said.
“Oh, yes she does!” Clair nudged him in his rock-hard abs with one elbow. “Clair is always up for a massage.”
He looked at her in surprise.
“Truly?”
“Truly,” she confirmed. Actually, getting a relaxing massage was one of her favorite things in the world. And she could just imagine what a good massage the big Hybrid could give with those big, warm hands…oh yes, this was going to be excellent.
“Hurry and come with me,” Maera urged. “We must not keep Varell waiting.”
And she led the way out of the room without a look back, just expecting them to follow.