Chapter 16 Kojo
KOJO
Kendra does not let go of Zaki right away.
I watch from the doorway as my sister stands with her arms held slightly out from her sides, rigid.
Then, slowly, her arm comes around Kendra’s shoulders, and something in Zaki’s posture changes from the outside in, a long careful exhale that she has been holding.
She fears losing us, my Bouda says, low and certain, watching what I watch. You must reassure her, Alemayehu. She does not understand yet that we are not leaving. I will, when the moment allows it.
For now I turn my attention to the woman moving through the cabin behind us.
She carries Kade’s scent on her skin. There is a claim mark at her throat, and the warmth in her eyes when she looks at Kade across the room is the particular warmth of someone who has chosen and been chosen in return.
I have heard of Leah many times, as Kade’s name passes through every supernatural network eventually, always accompanied by this one.
But I have never stood in the same room with her until now.
She is already moving toward me before I finish the thought, appearing at my elbow with her vampire speed. Her bright brown eyes travel up my frame, and she pauses once at my back.
“Oh,” she says, tilting her head. The measuring tape stops. She pulls her notepad from her apron pocket and makes a small notation, studying the ridge visible through my ruined shirt. “I’m going to need to reach out to Jackie.”
“Who is Jackie?”
“Wintermoon’s seamstress.” Leah resumes her circuit, the tape flashing around my shoulders, my chest, dropping to my waist. Her speed is such that I track the motion more by the whisper of the tape than by sight, and I have very good sight.
“She specializes in glow ups. Your ridge is going to need custom cuts in everything.” She steps back, jots her numbers, and moves without transition toward Zaki.
Zaki’s ridge calcifies immediately, and from the table Kendra makes a sound she quickly covers with her hand.
“No,” Zaki says.
“Don’t worry,” Leah says, entirely unbothered.
“I make my own garments.” Zaki smooths her palms down the front of her clothing. The fabric is stiff in places, the color altered at the hem and along her forearms, but she carries herself like its condition is entirely beside the point.
Leah looks at the fabric, then looks at Zaki. “You’ll wear something temporary until I can get Jackie here.” Her tone is pleasant. “Arms up.”
She does not wait. She starts moving, the tape appearing and disappearing around Zaki’s frame so fast that even I lose the individual passes. Zaki endures it with annoyance. Kendra smiles
Kade moves through the kitchen, setting several tall pitchers of water on the counter without breaking stride.
The sound pulls Zaki and me to attention in the same instant, our heads turning together.
My Bouda comes forward before I consciously register the pull, and I feel Zaki shift her weight beside me, the same pull answering in her.
We are Bouda. We require more water in a single day than most humans consume.
Kendra’s stomach announces itself. A low, decisive sound that carries clearly across the quiet room.
We need to feed her, my Bouda says, and all the commentary is gone from his voice. Our mate is hungry. Now, Alemayehu.
I look down at myself. The snow drew most of it off my arms and feet on the walk from the truck, but my shirt carries it still, dark in the creases. My pants are damp with it. Zaki’s clothing is worse.
Leah steps back from Zaki, satisfied, and Kendra yelps when Leah disappears. No warning, black smoke curling where she stood and already thinning.
“I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to that.” Kendra shakes her head.
She kicks her boots off at the foot of the table and walks into the kitchen in her socks. She turns the tap on, adjusts the temperature, and washes her hands. The soap lathers between her fingers. She rinses it clean, shakes the water off, reaches for the paper towel beside the sink.
Kade passes us on her way out of the kitchen. The look she gives me as she goes is brief and entirely pointed.
Our mate practices good hygiene, my Bouda notes. We could make a favorable impression by following her example.
Kendra dries her hands, drops the towel, and walks back out of the kitchen. She pauses at the edge of it, brow furrowed, and turns back to look at us.
Zaki reaches the sink at the same moment I do. We arrive together, and for three long seconds we are two adult Bouda standing in a small kitchen doorway with our shoulders pressed to either side of the frame, neither of us willing to yield.
“Women first,” Zaki says. “Always.”
I frown. She is not wrong. I step back, some instinct that does not yield easily while our mate is unfed in the next room. I look to Kendra over my shoulder. She has her arms crossed, her head dropped, and she makes a sound through her nose.
“You can work out the politics of your clan later.” Kade reappears in the kitchen doorway. “How about someone gets something to eat.” She looks at Kendra. “Majesty.”
Black smoke appears at the center of the room before Leah does, and she arrives already moving, both arms buried in bags she drops to the floor. Kendra fans the smoke away and turns back to the table, going through the food like someone who is genuinely hungry and not performing about it.
She finds what smells like pasta first. Her face does not change, exactly, but something in it goes very still for one moment before she sets the container aside. She keeps moving through the bags.
She does not like that human pasta, my Bouda observes. You observed the reaction. We must keep careful note of her eating patterns, Alemayehu, so we understand how to feed our mate properly.
Kendra finds a meal that smells like chicken with lemon and pepper. Her shoulders drop in a way I do not think she notices, and she unwraps the plastic utensils. She eats quickly, the fork moving between the container and her mouth.
Our mate is too hungry, my Bouda says, watching. This is not acceptable. She will not go another day without a full meal, Alemayehu. We make note of this. We correct it tomorrow. I nod once, quietly, and he settles.
Zaki steps out of the kitchen, drying her hands, and surveys the room the way she surveys every space, looking for its exits and its load-bearing points. Kade comes back through, moving toward Leah near the door, and I take the opening.
“House of Zorah,” I say. “They are on Wintermoon?”
Kade pauses. “They are. The foundation you’re standing on was built by their hands. Zorah pack are the architects of Wintermoon, been here since the beginning.” She tilts her head, reading the direction of my thinking. “Looking to build?”
Yes, my Bouda says. This is good, Alemayehu. We barter with the wolf pack. We build a home worthy of our queen, something stable and permanent, with walls thick enough to keep the cold from her. I hold the thought and set it aside for later, when Zaki and I can speak privately.
Zaki’s attention moves to the clothing bags near the stairs, but something has shifted in her bearing.
“We will reach out to the alpha,” she says.
“Levi.” Kade and Leah exchange a look that carries information I am not party to.
“Is something wrong with the alpha?” Leah clears her throat.
“You’ll find out when you visit,” she says, and her tone closes the subject without explaining why.
She crouches and begins sorting through them, and her posture is that of someone being asked to accept a compromise she has not agreed to.
“You expect me to mask,” she says. “To dress as every other supernatural on Wintermoon. To surrender my customs.”
“No.” Leah crouches beside her, entirely at ease. “But this,” she points to the bags, “is temporary. Soap, toothpaste, toothbrushes, and clothing you will wear until Jackie arrives.” She gives Zaki a smile. “I’ve never met a Bouda before. I’m very excited to learn what you need.”
Zaki huffs. She continues sorting. She pulls out a dress, holds it at arm’s length, and regards it with the expression of someone who has been personally insulted by an inanimate object.
Kade kisses Leah on the cheek and crosses to the front door. “I’m going to make sure Andrew and Aiden are settled in their cabin.” Leah follows her, brow pulling together. “Andrew is staying?”
“I don’t know, honey.” Kade shrugs, one hand on the frame. “But I think it’s best if they stay here for now. Help Aiden accept the mate bond.” Leah’s face softens at that. She nods. Then her brow comes back together.
“But wait,” she says. “Who’s going to run Thirst Trap?”
“Me,” Kade says.
Leah’s eyes go flat. “Oh, no the hell you’re not. Not by yourself. I know your track record with women there.”
“What are you talking about?” Kade spreads her arms. “I can’t even look at another woman. Because of that magic pussy of yours.” She points directly at Leah’s crouch. “I literally gag at the thought.”
“I’m going with you.”
“No, the fuck you’re not.” Kade grins. “Because if I catch anyone looking at you, I will fuck them up, and then we’ll both be in trouble.” She uses Leah’s sputtering as cover, turns, and steps out onto the porch. “I’ll see you in a couple days. Get to know Wintermoon. Welcome to the family.”
The door closes. Leah yanks it back open. “Kade! Get your ass back here right now...”
I look at Zaki. She looks at the door. Neither of us comments.
Zaki holds up the dress still in her hand, frowning. “I will find this Jackie on my own.” She gathers what she has selected and moves toward the stairs. “I will not become a westernized...”
Kendra’s fork stops mid-air. “Those comments are insulting,” she says. Not loudly. The words land flat and clean across the room, and Zaki goes still on the stair.
“They make me feel like I already failed something I didn’t know I was being tested on,” Kendra keeps her eyes on her plate.
Zaki’s footsteps come back down. She comes around the table and comes down to her knees on the floor in front of Kendra’s chair, and her head drops.
Forgive me, my queen.” She murmurs. “I meant no disrespect. Forgive my insolence.
Kendra leans back in her chair, looking lost.
“It’s not that serious,” she says. “Get up.” Zaki does not move.
I step forward, moving around my sister. I take Kendra’s hand gently, and she lets me, her eyes moving between my face and the Zaki’s submissive stance. I guide her palm down until it rests against the top of Zaki’s head, and I draw it slowly across once.
“You honor her with your forgiveness,” I tell Kendra quietly. “Accepting her submission releases it. This is the way.”
“Oh,” Kendra says.
Zaki raises her head. She stands. I release Kendra’s hand and step back, and Zaki holds my gaze for one moment before she turns and gathers her bags from the foot of the stairs.
Kendra stares after her, then looks at me, then at her food, then back at me.
“I have no idea if I can handle this,” she says.
Zaki pauses at the foot of the stairs without turning. “I will be your guide,” she says, and goes up. Kendra’s face does something I do not have a clean word for. She picks her fork back up.
She did not say no, my Bouda says. That is a very good start, Alemayehu.