Of Blood and Angels (The Two Moons of Rehnor, Book 3) (24 page)

BOOK: Of Blood and Angels (The Two Moons of Rehnor, Book 3)
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Chapter 27

Katie

 

 

The window was open and rain had formed a
huge puddle on the floor beneath it.  His robe lay in the puddle, completely
soaked through.  Loman stooped to pick it up, shaking it out and then handing
it to a guardsman.

“Give it to his valet to be cleaned,”
Loman barked.  The guardsman scurried from the room as Loman shut the windows. 
He looked at me and raised a bushy white eyebrow quizzically.

“I think he must be feeling better,” I
said and shrugged a little.  “I don't think he was kidnapped again.”

“No, no, I don't think so,” Loman agreed. 
“Surely my security is better than that.”

“He probably was just hungry.”  I attempted
to straighten the bed sheets for no reason other than I felt I must do
something useful.  “The early morning hours he seems to crave something…fresh.”

Loman nodded and told me to stop fussing. 
“He probably won't come back to this room anyway.  Perhaps, he has already
returned to his apartment.”

I followed Loman out the door and across
the passageways.  The infirmary was located in a building on the opposite side
of the courtyard from the Big House.  We were half way across the complex when
a SdK limousine landed right in front of us.  Berkan got out and seeing us,
waited until we joined him.

“Good Morning, Madame,” he said and
bowed. 

“Good Morning, Lord Korelesk,” I replied
formally, even though it seemed silly.  After all, he was just Berkan.  “Are you
coming to see me?”

“As much as I love to visit with you,
Madame,” he replied.  “I am, in fact, coming to see His Royal Highness, the
MaKennah.  I have a 10AM meeting scheduled in his office.”

“Really?”  Is that where he is?”

“I assume so.” Berkan replied.  “It was on
my calendar this morning, so I figured I had better show up.” 

We walked to the second floor where the
King's and Senya's offices were.  There were two sets of secretarial offices
one must pass through before entering Senya's office and guardsmen were posted
in each doorway.  Kinar sat at a large desk in front of the last set of heavy
mahogany doors.  He stood up when he saw us.

“Is he in?”  Berkan said and pointed at
the door.

“Yes sir, Lord Korelesk,” Kinar replied. 
“You are expected, but you are early.  Please have a seat until he is
available.”

Berkan sat down on a leather sofa and
started thumbing through the messages on his cell.

“Can I go in?” I asked.

“Sorry, Madame,” Kinar sat back down and
looked at his screen.  “Not without an appointment.”

“Kinar?  Are you serious?  You have never
stopped me before!”

Kinar smiled apologetically.  “Sorry
Madame.  This is Mishnah, the rules are different here.”

28

Berkan

 

"How are you feeling?" I said,
entering what used to be the King’s office but now belonged to Senya. 

The King and his few files and staff had
gladly moved to what had once been Akan's office, a short walk down the hall
from here.  Senya's office was far bigger and had an amazing view of the ocean
from the wall of picture windows and French doors behind his massive desk.  The
office was cold and drafty even as a fire roared in the great stone hearth.

"Fucked up, but better," Senya
replied as I made obeisance on the floor before his desk. 

Technically, I didn’t have to do this.  Technically,
a bow would have been sufficient but since Senya was effectively ruling anyway,
now we all made obeisance as if he were already the king. 

I stood up quickly, not waiting for his
permission as he was busy scratching away at the document in front of him. 
Dickon’s undersecretary stood by his side, waiting for the document.  With a
slashing motion, Senya signed his name and thrust the paper at the man. 

“So, Berk,” he said, taking the next
document off the secretary’s stack.  “Tell me about the squawks on the EMP
system.  You have resolved all but one, yes?”

“Well,” I started to say, when the massive
doors opened again and my father entered, leading the King, the King of
Karupatani and Prince Sorkan. 

Immediately, I fell to my knees once
again, as did Dickon's young assistant.  Out of the corner of my eye, as I
knelt on the floor, I noticed Katie slip through the door just before it
closed.  She scurried into a corner, behind a pedestal that held an antique
vase dating back to Markiis Kalila's reign.  As she ducked behind it, she
bumped the pedestal, sending the vase rocking. 

I held my breath as the priceless artifact
toppled to one side.  Without even glancing up from his paper, Senya pointed a
finger at the vase and it resumed its upright and undamaged position.  He
signed the next paper and let it float down to the floor where Dickon's man
waited.

"How are you feeling, son?" King
Yokaa said when Senya finally deigned to let his silver eyes drift upward to
the royal assembly before him.

Senya didn’t respond, fortunately, for I
feared he would reply ‘fucked up’ to the King, as well.  Rather, Senya leaned
back in his great chair and produced a cigarette from nowhere.  He lit it with
a brush of his finger and took a long drag, his blind eyes flickering at the
kings. 

“No,” he said after a time and after what
appeared to be a great deal of thought, answering a question that was never
posed out loud.  The kings look at each other with a sort of exasperation
whilst only Prince Sorkan dared to speak.

"Senya," the Prince said calmly
and kindly.  "It is time for you to come home."

Senya focused his gaze upon his father and
breathed out smoke.  “I will not,” he replied.  “I choose to remain on Rozari.”

“King Yokaa and I are in agreement on
this,” the Karupatani King spoke.  His voice was hoarse and even from my prone
position beneath them, he looked ailing to me.  “You will do as we ask and
reside here now in this Palace with your wife and son.”

“You may call my official residence
however you like.”  Senya shrugged and drew another document from the stack on
his desk.  “But I will come and go as I please.  My wife and son will remain on
Rozari until I see fit to bring them here.”

“Sehron,” King Yokaa sighed.  “Must you
always argue with us?  Is it not obvious to you that you cannot be protected on
Rozari?  Any creature can do as these Andromedeans have just done and next time
you may not survive it.”

“A thousand guardsmen would not have
protected me regardless of whether I was here or there.  All that would have
happened is that a thousand guardsmen would now be dead.  I can and I will
protect myself. You do not need to risk anyone else on my behalf.  Berkan, get
up off the floor.  I wish to speak with you.”

Hesitantly, and with a slight nod from my
father, I rose.  My knees creaked and my back wrenched with a brief spasm, but
I made my way past the royal assembly and stood to the side of Senya's chair.

“Exactly how do you propose to protect
yourself?” my father demanded as I was moving about.  “When you could not
protect yourself this time?” 

“I am stronger now,” Senya replied
dismissively as if this was all too tedious for him.

"How so?" my father protested. 
"You have only just arisen from your hospital bed."

"Ach Loman.  ‘
Tis
all very
complicated."  Senya produced a fresh cigarette, lighting it with the
remnants of the last one.  “You shall just have to trust me in this.  Berk,
please have my plane ready within the hour.  I should like you to travel with
us so we may discuss all that has happened during my absence.”

“Yes, Sir,” I replied and pulled out my
cell to alert my secretary and send a note to Luci.

“Sehron,” King Yokaa interrupted.  “I
forbid you from returning to Rozari.  I forbid your wife and son to leave this
planet as well.”

Senya leaned back again as if to study the
old king.  His eyes flickered like microbursts of lightning.  There was
something different about him now, though I could not put my finger exactly
upon it.  He did indeed look stronger. 

“I appreciate your concern, Your
Majesties.”  He nodded toward both kings.  “Your objections are well noted. 
Kate, please get out from behind that pedestal before you break something and
go ready yourself and Shika for the journey home.”

Katie stood up and turned bright red.  She
scurried out the door.

“You mean to disobey your lords?” my
father demanded of Senya.

Senya smiled slightly with an almost
pitiful expression upon his face.  “I mean to do what is necessary, Loman.  I
apologize if it gives the appearance of disrespect.” 

He turned again to the Karupta King and
said something in Karupatani.  The King shook his head.  Prince Sorkan narrowed
his dark eyes.

“Let him, Father,” the Prince said, taking
the Old King’s arm.

The King shook his head again.

“If there is nothing further then,” Senya
said.  “I bid you leave me be so I may finish these documents before
departing.  Berkan, you may escort my lords to the door.”

“I am unclear as to whom is the King and
who are the Princes,” Prince Sorkan remarked when I had returned them to
Kinar's office.

"There is no confusion," my
father replied.  "Senya is and was always in charge."

 

 

 

Chapter 29

Senya

 

 

It was early in the morning and he was
wide awake and sitting in a tree in the hills above his home.  The Rozarian
star was rising over the ocean, sending out rays of light in orange and pink
hues.  A few sea birds called to each other as the sky lightened.  The bay was
calm with only a ripple on the water.  His wife's little sailboat was tied to
the dock, the sheets occasionally slapping against the mast, making a pinging
noise as a whisper of wind knocked them about. 

He was satiated, neither hungry nor tired,
although he could not recall when last he slept.  He felt stronger now than he
had in a very long time.  He was lonely though and his body craved comfort. 

The Evil Voice from the dark had known the
truth.  He was too attached to his mortal being.  He missed his wife, the taste
of her, the feel of her skin pressed against his own, the warmth and wetness of
her as he pressed himself deep inside her.  He wanted her now but he was dirty,
his skin touched with such filth it would never be clean.  He did not wish to
tarnish his wife with his foulness, yet his body betrayed him and desired as it
always had.  Even now his cock tightened, recalling the power it possessed. 

He lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply,
contemplating satisfying his cock with his hand.  He knew that satisfaction
will only be brief, perhaps no satisfaction at all.  He distracted himself by
concentrating on the pungent smoke in his lungs, the nicotine racing through his
veins.  The cig was a Camel from the box in his office in the Engineering
building, the box that Susie dutifully purchased months and months ago.  He
exhaled a great cloud of tobacco smoke and with it willed away all the poisons
in his skin placed there by the Andromedean creatures.  He still felt dirty and
unsatisfied.

The sun rose slowly in the eastern sky. 
He could feel the warmth of it on his face and body.  Soon it would be hot, too
hot for his taste, and soon he would have to go back inside, begin his day,
though the previous one never ended. 

If he could spend every day, all day as an
animal, as a mindless creature soaring the skies, catching the currents and
hunting prey, would he?  It was a relief for him to be as this, to disappear
from the constraints of a mortal man and reduce his existence to only the
basest of instincts. 

No, he would not want to be as this
always.  Even now, he preferred to be a man sitting here at the top of the
tallest tree, smoking a cigarette.  He liked to be a man, liked it too much,
and again the pleasures of a woman's body invaded his thoughts, distracting the
peace he sought up here above the world.

Down by the dock, he heard a noise, the
sailboat rocked for a moment, the sheets pinged wildly.  Then it was nearly
silent again save a heron on the water and a soft intake of breath. 

It was his wife that made this sound,
leaning against the side of her boat.  He could smell her even up here in the
tree, his senses were so keen.  He could almost taste her skin and feel the washed
cottons of her pajamas.  He could sense the heat coming off her body though he
was far away from her.  For a moment, he believed he could hear the beating of
her heart.  It was a sweetness to him and his body ached for her. 

“I'm sorry,” he said as she nearly jumped
out of her skin.

He had made no sound as he approached,
flying silently down from the trees and landing on the dock.  He sat down on
the dock near the boat's transom and let his legs dangle to the water.  The
water was warm but he did not like the sensation of wetness on anything other
than his feet.  It reminded him too much of other places, places where evil
reigned.  He dragged his long nails through the sea, creating a ripple of
current, five long lines that spread slowly outward.

“I was thinking how it was when you first
brought me here,” his wife said, sniffling as she spoke, swiping at her eyes
with the tail of her pajama top. 

He wanted to climb aboard the boat and
wipe her eyes, taste her salty tears with his tongue, press his hand beneath
her clothing, against her skin, into her.  Instead, he made more lines in the
sea, ten small waves from all of his toes.

“The first time I swam at the beach while
you lay on the grass,” she continued.  “I had this idea that we would be here,
alone on this beach forever.  You were going to build us a little house and I'd
go to work and you'd go to work and we'd come home at night and come out here
on this beach and just love each other again and again for ever.  Or at least
until we got too old and tired to keep doing that.”  She choked a little, a
little laugh. 

He would like that, he thought.  He would
like to lie on the grass and love her over and over until their bodies were raw
and there was nothing left in him.  He thought he would never tire of her in
this way.  He would never grow too old to desire this.

“I was so naive.  I had no clue who you
were or what would happen to you.  And you know what else?  The craziest part
of all this?  It was only a few years ago.  I hooked up with you and now my whole
life is moving at light speed toward something.  I'm not even sure what.”

He sighed because she did not understand. 
Years, time, what was that?  Today, yesterday, tomorrow, it was all the same. 
Who am I?  Who are you?  She knew nothing and cried for the loss of nothing but
a tiny speck of time when all eternity awaited them.

“Can you do anything about it?  Can you
jump into a time vortex and restart us so we can do it right this time and
maybe a little slower?  Hell, I'll even live through the pregnancy all over
again if we could just be together this time around.”

“I cannot do that,” he said.  Now he made
circles in the water with his toenails.  Great spirals spun outward across the
bay like whorls in time.

“What happened to you, Senya?  I don't know
you at all anymore. Just when I thought I understood you a little, you
disappeared. "

He pulled his feet out of the water.  The
currents he had created drifted outward and disappeared.  The water below the
dock was quiet again.  Her anguish disheartened him and annoyed him at the same
time. 

“Where are you going?”

He shrugged.  It was morning and he had
meetings and calls and business to attend to. 

“Senya?” she pleaded.  “Come back.  Talk
to me.  Senya, please?”

He turned back to her.  He didn’t want to
talk.  

“Come here,” she said and went down the
two steps into the boat's dark cabin.  She took off her pajamas and spread a
blanket upon the berth.  She lay down and waited for him. 

“I am dirty,” he said.

“Then I will be dirty too,” she replied
and reached for him.  “Don't leave me, Senya.”

“I am always with you,” he said but not in
a language she understood.  “I have never left you.  I never will.”

 

He decided his business could wait another
day.  They stayed in the cabin of the boat until the sun had set and risen
again.  The boat grew hot as the Rozarian star crossed the sky.  His wife
opened the windows and hatches, letting in whatever breeze came upon them.  She
fetched cold water bottles from the boat's tiny galley fridge and she poured it
upon his chest and rubbed it into his skin.  He liked the feel of her hands,
her caresses, until he remembered the creatures caressing him.  He shuddered
and pushed her back, thrusting himself inside her, relieving his anger in her. 
She accepted his anger and took it from him until he was spent of it. 

In the evening, they cast the boat adrift
and they floated around the bay, spending the night locked upon each other
until their muscles ached and their skin was rubbed raw, and then they fell
into an exhausted sleep only to wake a few hours later and begin again.

During the cool dark hours just before the
dawn, he untangled himself from his wife's limbs and went up on deck.  A school
of fish swam just underneath the boat and for a moment he considered going
after them.  He would grab the largest one and then head back to the forest
where he would rip it apart and enjoy every moment of it.  The thought of the
raw, salty blood made him salivate.  His wife made a coughing sound from inside
the small cabin and rolled over.  She would awaken to find herself alone
again.  He lit a cigarette instead and leaned back against the bulkhead,
forcing himself to enjoy the quiet and solitude before the morning came. 

"Why are you out here?" she
asked, climbing the two step ladder to the cockpit. 

Already, the sun had risen.  He could feel
the heat trapped in the little cabin and radiating off of the sea around them.

"You do not like when I smoke in
bed," he replied, letting his senses absorb the image of her. 

She smelled slightly of sweat and the salt
of the sea and the lavender soap and shampoo from Mishnah that she liked so
much.  The faint musky scent of him drifted from her cunt and assaulted his
nostrils.  His balls, though aching from the exertions of the night, immediately
tightened, ready again.  He shifted his legs so she could not see how his cock
had risen and he sucked harder on his cig to quell the salivating in his mouth.

"Thanks.  I think that's the first
time you've ever acknowledged that."  She turned away from him and looked
to the north, up the coast, raising her hand to her eyes like a visor.  "I
think we're about ten miles south of the house.  Are you anxious to get back or
shall we stay out here another day?"

"What time is it?"

"Just after 8AM.  Why?"

"Is it Wednesday?"

"No, it's Monday."

Monday.  He thought about his Monday
calendar, which meeting and calls he would need to take.  He had already missed
two conferences beginning at 6AM and if he was lucky, he might end the day
around midnight. 

"I need to get back," he said,
tossing the remnants of his cig into the air and letting it fall upon the
water.

"Ok."  She looked up the mast to
the weather vane.  It twisted as the boat bobbed on the water but didn’t
indicate anything other than an absence of wind.  She checked the fuel tank for
the outboard and then pushed the button to prime the engine.  "You can
spare another hour or so, right?  It's going to take us that long to motor
home."

"Ok," he agreed, sensing her
movements as she readied the boat.  The motor started and she sat down on the
opposite bench, hand on the tiller.  The boat glided through the pink water
with hardly a ripple, a salty breeze blowing in his face.  She stared at him as
they moved and her mind was puzzled.

"What's different about you?"

He turned his face to the sea.

"I am only more of who I am," he
replied, knowing she would not understand.

She locked the tiller in place and went to
him, sitting upon his lap, taking his face in her hands.  "Senya, where
did you go?”

He put his hands under her t-shirt and
cupped her bare breasts, moving his legs beneath her buttocks so she could feel
his erection.

“I hope you didn't go to some teenager's
bed.”

“No.  I have no need for teenagers.  I
have you.”

“That you do.  I'm glad you finally
remembered it.”  She pulled off the t-shirt and straddled him, taking him
inside her again.  He willed the outboard to quiet, the gas line to crimp and
it responded by sputtering to a stop.  The boat drifted.

“I thought you had to get back?”  She
whispered, her hands lost in his hair, her muscles coaxing him, pulling him
forward.

"Eventually," he replied and
took her nipple in his mouth.  In the meantime, he would lose himself in these
sensations.  He would swim under her skin and fill her with everything that was
in him.  A moan escaped from his lips as he came.  His body shuddered and for a
moment he was uncertain if he had done more.  He listened past his own
breathing and her panting for an explosion, a tornado, a cry or scream, but the
bay was silent save a gull calling to his mate.

His wife collapsed against him, heart
racing in her chest, her skin soaked in the sweat of the two of them. 
"You were gone for so long.  I have missed you so much."

"I am here," he said, breathing
in her hair, wiping the tears from her eyes.

"No, your mind is still far away. 
Where were you?  Tell me."

"The Gates of Hell," he replied
and his body shuddered at the memory.

His wife made a sound.  "It’s over. 
You are safe now."

Was he?  He caused an entire race of
creatures to die because he was unwilling to save them.  He raised the ire of
the Evil One yet again.  It was far from over.

"Senya?"

"Ay yah, Milaka.  I am returned.  I
will be better now."

 

When they got back to the house, they were
met on the lawn by Kinar and Fruph and the two Andorian women who cared for the
baby.   The baby bounced in the Andorian’s arms and squealed nonsensical
sounds.

"Here, Madame," the Andorian
said, handing the infant to his wife while Kinar started to relate the
rescheduling of his day’s appointments.

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