Outcast (18 page)

"Well, then," he said briskly. "Must be off! Take good care of them."

"Them?" she echoed.

"The baby and the Zetithian," he replied. "Though I believe he requires even more care than the child."

"No, he doesn't," she said wistfully. "Lynx doesn't seem to need much of anything. All I do is feed him."

Vladen looked so smug, Bonnie considered it a wonder his jaw ridges didn't pop right through his skin. "I doubt that," he said. "He's one of the neediest men I've ever seen."

"Well, he might be needy," Bonnie grumbled, "but he sure doesn't act like it! He never asks for anything, and most of what I've given him, he doesn't seem to want."

"Yes, well, some women are more needy than they're willing to admit, too," Vladen said mysteriously.

"Oh, I'm sure they are," Bonnie agreed in an effort to shut him up. "And I'm sure you think I'm one of them.

But I'm also sure you have other patients waiting for you, so I won't keep you."

"Any eggs available?" he asked on the way out. "And some of that white squash with the scalloped edges?"

"Sure," she said wearily. "Got plenty of both. Help yourself to anything you like — on the house."

"That would make it seem as though you were paying me for my services!" he said indignantly, clearly affronted by the suggestion. "Which you know very well I cannot do! I will pay for what I get from you!"

Bonnie chuckled in spite of herself. "I suppose the advice was free too?"

"Well, yes — yes, of course it was!" he sputtered.

Bonnie sighed, pulling some eggs out of the fridge. "I guess you get what you pay for."

And in Bonnie's opinion, it was lousy advice, because it was obvious to her that Lynx didn't need her or anything she could do for him. He didn't need anything but his precious solitude and the chance to rock Shaulla — and something to eat once in a while.

She was beginning to not only need him again, but want him and crave him. When she looked at Lynx, all she could think about was kissing those lips, running her fingers through his curls, and holding his purring body close to her own. She was jealous of Shaulla, because she got to do those things. Not the way Bonnie would have, perhaps, but Bonnie had seen Ulla grasp his hair in her tiny fists, and he held her so closely. Bonnie would never get the chance unless she charged Lynx a hug or a kiss before she let him hold Ulla, and she wasn't even sure she could get it then.

Lynx knew what she was feeling, too. Bonnie was feeding the enocks one morning while he gathered the eggs, and something in the way he moved triggered her emotions. Within moments, his head went up and his nostrils flared. There it was again, he thought; her desire. Lynx breathed in the scent and waited for a response from his body, but none came. His lips hardened into a thin line as he turned away from her.

Bonnie saw his reaction and wanted to run away and hide — which is essentially what she did.

Throwing the remainder of the feed at the birds, she turned and left so quickly, she nearly tripped over Kipper on the way back to the house.

Bonnie knew there was nothing she could do to make herself more attractive to him, either; the usual feminine wiles were useless on a man who disliked women. And besides, she didn't just want him to make love to her — she wanted him to love her.

Late one night, Bonnie was up feeding Ulla. Before she went back to bed, she went out to the kitchen for a drink, not bothering to turn on a light, for the moonlight lit her way quite well. If the moon hadn't been shining so brightly, Bonnie doubted that she'd have looked out, but when she did, she saw him.

Lynx was standing by the well pump, completely nude, though Bonnie only saw him from the rear.

If she'd been jealous of her daughter before, Bonnie was now jealous of the moon, for its light caressed the contours of his perfect body in the same way she would have liked to touch him with her fingertips. Her only consolation as she watched the droplets of water fall from his skin was that she could stand there and watch, secure in her home, and know that he couldn't catch the scent of her desire wafting toward him with the evening breeze.

As Lynx leaned over to wash his hair, Bonnie was sure she would climax just from the sight of him.

All of it was appealing to her on the most basic, elemental level and beyond. The line of his spine as it disappeared into his sculpted buttocks. The way his neck seemed to flow so perfectly into his broad shoulders. And his legs; tapered, muscular, and strong. Bonnie took that vision back to bed, dreaming of him; of the way he would feel, the way he would taste, the way he would touch her.

She tried to remember how his body felt pressed tightly against her own while she had been in labor with Shaulla. It was the only memory she had, and she clung to it in desperation. Bonnie tried to imagine more, but kept coming back to what Jack had said about Cat. Did all Zetithians possess the same attributes? Could the fluids he secreted really induce orgasms? She'd never heard of a species that could do such things — and she'd heard quite a few tall tales! Sylor certainly had no remarkable abilities in that respect; making love with him had been no different than having sex with a human male. But Bonnie wasn't asking Lynx for that. She only wanted him to hold her and purr the way he had before. She didn't need orgasms to make her love him or want him. He was what made her want him, not some chemical reaction.

Then again, perhaps it was all chemical — or hormonal — and, given a couple of long, miserable years, it would all go away. Then she could look at his naked body in the moonlight and not care. In the meantime, charging him a hug or a kiss for holding Shaulla was sounding better all the time.

"Lynx," Bonnie whispered to the darkness. "You're a torment to me. Go away and leave me just like all the others have — and, please, do it soon, before I do something stupid."

Lynx stood up tall and shook the excess water from his hair. Glancing down at his penis where it hung from its nest of curling hair, he remembered a time when even cold water couldn't douse his need to mate. He hadn't understood why Bonnie had shut him out after Ulla was born. Holding a woman again had felt so good to him, and even watching the child emerge hadn't been quite as painful as it had been with the others, because he already knew there was no chance that this child could be his own. Still, he always held his breath at that moment when it might still be possible...

Beautiful mother and beautiful child. Lynx knew a moment of jealousy and hatred toward Bonnie's old boyfriend. Sylor should never have left her; a man who would abandon his own child was no better than a common criminal.

But if he had not left, I would not be here. Lynx pondered that for a while, thinking that it might have been easier. He might have gotten a job somewhere else — or been sent offworld — perhaps even back to Paemay. He didn't want to go there — too many bad memories were associated with that planet — but he'd worked and saved to pay his passage before; he could do it again.

Still, this was a nice world to live on; the climate was favorable, the shed he lived in was spacious and quiet, and the work was hard, but simple. If only there had been no females nearby, it would have been perfect.

But was that really true? There had been a time when Lynx loved women — all women, no matter their age or form or personality. He might not have understood their minds, but he loved their smiles, their laughter, and their songs. But that had been on Zetith. Women there were so indifferent to males — until you enticed one enough to become your mate, he reminded himself. Then it was lifelong and everlasting. It saddened him to think that they were all gone and had been gone for many years now. His mother, his sisters — all of them dead; all of those beautiful females, and their wonderful planet nothing but dust.

Nothing could bring them back again. He couldn't even mate with a human female the way his old friends had done in an effort to save the Zetithian race from total extinction. He was one of the last of his kind — and there was nothing he could do to perpetuate his line. Looking over his shoulder, he saw the moonlight reflected in the windows of Bonnie's home. No, there was nothing to be done; not even with a woman who desired him.

Despite Bonnie's wish, Lynx not only didn't leave, he didn't even mention the possibility. Bonnie didn't suggest it, either, just in case he might want to take Ulla with him when he left. He loved Ulla. It was evident every time he looked at her or touched her.

Bonnie resumed the rhythm of her life, taking back some of the chores that Lynx had assumed over the past few weeks in a futile attempt to get him out of her mind. Salan came by a few times and tried flirting with Lynx again — though after what he'd said to her when they first met, Bonnie was surprised she would even want speak to him — and received no more encouragement than she had before, though he was a bit more tactful. There weren't very many eligible bachelors in that locale, and though Lynx was an attractive creature, Bonnie wondered how anyone could be masochistic enough for another try once they'd been so flatly rejected, though it hadn't stopped Bonnie from wanting him, either. In an effort to cheer Salan up after a particularly disappointing visit, Bonnie confided to her that Lynx didn't like women in general, but doubted that it helped very much. Even though Bonnie knew how she felt, it was amusing and somehow comforting to sit back and watch Salan's thwarted attempts at seduction.

Another bright spot was a visit from Zuannis. She didn't get out that way very often, and when she called ahead, Bonnie knew she was in for some much needed entertainment.

After properly praising Shaulla to the skies, Zuannis had plenty of news to relay.

"And now," she began, with the air of one about to tell a tale of epic proportions, "the story of last week's market day — which you missed."

"Salan hinted at something when she was here last," Bonnie said, eager to hear more. "Something about Hatul?"

"Ah, yes," Zuannis said, laughing. "He went too far."

"Gerna left him?" Bonnie gasped.

"In a manner of speaking," Zuannis replied, her smile brimming with mischief. "She won't speak to him."

This didn't sound like much of a punishment to Bonnie, but then, she'd been getting the cold shoulder from Lynx for so long, perhaps she was becoming immune.

"So?"

"Oh, I was forgetting you didn't know. When a Norludian female won't open her mouth to speak, it's a sign that she is refusing sexual relations."

Bonnie sat for a moment, and Zuannis watched her anxiously, waiting for the implications to sink in. "They don't... really. .. do they?"

Zuannis smiled. "I should have told you before — but if you'll recall, you didn't want to hear any more."

"True," Bonnie admitted. "So, tell me all of it."

"Ever hear how a Norludian gives birth?"

"No," Bonnie replied. "But I would assume it's the same as for other species."

Zuannis shook her large bald head, making her earrings jingle merrily. "It's more like they regurgitate their young."

It didn't take long for Bonnie to figure out the rest. "So when they have sex, it's always... oral?"

Zuannis smiled. "That's right."

"So if the female won't talk... it's like saying 'You're not getting any'?"

"Exactly," Zuannis replied.

Having heard this, Bonnie thought she should stop talking to Hatul altogether, just so he wouldn't get the wrong idea — but it was fascinating that conversation of any kind constituted flirtation. She just wished it could have been as easy with Lynx. "So, who did he, um, do it with?"

"Do you mean to say you can't guess?"

Bonnie's laugh began with a small chuckle and then progressed to a full-blown bout of hysterical laughter. Eyes streaming with tears, she said, "Oh, my God! Not Salan!"

"The very same," Zuannis assured her. "You must understand; Norludians are not opposed to sex with other partners, provided the other mate approves."

"But Gerna has never liked Salan, has she?" Bonnie observed.

"Not one bit."

This made Bonnie laugh even harder. "That poor girl! She must really be getting desperate to say yes to Hatul! She still comes around and flirts with Lynx, even though he was openly insulting the first time they met."

"Poor girl," Zuannis echoed. "We should try to find someone for her."

"Who?" Bonnie said. "Wilisan's always been the best-looking man around here, but he's never seemed interested in her either, otherwise she wouldn't be so desperate. Know any miners?"

"None that are enough like her to be compatible," Zuannis said frankly. "You've seen them, haven't you? They're perfectly hideous!"

Bonnie had seen them, and the fact that most of them were Udeelans was a point she considered mentioning to Lynx, if for no other reason than to let him see what he was missing. Udeelans were slimy, smelly, albino hulks, nearly blind from living in darkness, and had hands the size of platters.

Even the Norludians thought they were ugly, and they weren't terribly friendly, either. Bonnie couldn't imagine anyone — Salan included — who would want an Udeelan boyfriend, but then, Bonnie would never have encouraged Hatul, either.

"Not much hope, is there? Unless Gerna really does kick Hatul out."

"I don't think Salan truly enjoyed the event," Zuannis said dryly, "and I think that was part of Gerna's problem with the whole thing: she seemed to think that Salan should have appreciated it more and blamed Hatul for not choosing his lovers more wisely."

This insight had Bonnie laughing merrily once more, which did wonders for her morale. "That sounds so... Norludian, don't you think?"

Zuannis nodded, wondering just what it was about a particular Zetithian that made him so choosy about his lovers — Bonnie, specifically. Zuannis didn't think Lynx could have seen anything objectionable in her friend, but since she had an idea it might be a sore spot with Bonnie, she broached the subject very carefully.

"So, what does Lynx think of Shaulla?" Zuannis said casually — knowing that Lynx must have helped deliver the child. "Or does he think of her at all?"