Switched: Brides of the Kindred 17 (33 page)

“
All right then.” Frankie’s mother sniffed. “But you haven’t
heard the last of this,
mija.
I’m afraid your
abuela
is
going to have something to say about it to you too—tonight at the
family dinner.”

Kerov felt his
stomach clench. Was he now going to have to endure a meal with
Frankie’s whole family unit—all of them telling him over and over
how she ought to be with Carlos?

“
I
must go,” he said desperately. Maybe if he could get back to sleep,
he and Frankie could figure out a solution to their Switching
problem. He did have someone he could ask for advice about it but
he’d been reluctant to bother them before. Now, however, Kerov was
officially desperate. He would do anything he had to in order to
get this fixed—anything at all.

“
Fine. Go,” Frankie’s mother sniffed. “I’ll see you tonight at
six. Don’t be late.”

Kerov pushed the
button on the phone, and a new voice took the place of Frankie’s
mother.

“
Frankie?” it asked.

“
Yes?” Kerov answered cautiously.

“
Oh good—I got you. Listen, I know it’s supposed to be your
day off but today is the Semi-Annual Sale and Haley just called in
sick so I need you to come in. We have a lot of work to do before
the store opens!”

Kerov searched
frantically through Frankie’s mind for an appropriate response.

“
I
can’t. I’m truly sorry but…but I am just not feeling like myself
today,” he said, truthfully enough.

“
Not
feeling
like
yourself?” The female voice on the other end snorted incredulously.
“Well isn’t that just too bad! Listen, Frankie, you know how crazy
this sale gets—I need you in here
now.”

“
I
can’t come in,” Kerov protested desperately. “I…I have to go back
to sleep.” Which was also true—if he didn’t get back to sleep, he
wouldn’t be able to get back to Frankie. He wondered how the
banquet was going and if it was already too late to salvage the
situation.

But apparently his
answer was not only the wrong one, it also angered the female on
the other end of the phone who must be Frankie’s superior.

“
You need to
sleep?
That’s
the lamest excuse I’ve ever heard! Listen, you get your ass to
Victoria’s Secret
now
or you
can kiss this job goodbye—you hear me?”

And with that, he
was stuck.

Kerov knew perfectly
well that he had already lost Frankie the possibility of not one
but two jobs—he couldn’t lose the only one she had left! Whatever
was happening in the banquet, she would have to deal with it on her
own. He had no choice—while he was in her body, her life and
livelihood were his responsibility. He had to go to her work.

“
All right,” he said dully. “I will be in shortly.”

“
Not shortly—in half an hour. Or don’t bother coming in at
all,” snapped the voice. Then the phone went dead in his hand.
Kerov stared at it, a deep sense of foreboding filling
him.

Frankie,
he
thought.
I will do
the best I can to fulfill your responsibilities. I only hope you
are able to do the same for me.

* *
* * *

Frankie tried not to
panic as the bowling-ball shaped General Von-Doddle sat down beside
her. As soon as he settled, he looked around and announced, “All
are welcome to this banquet tonight. You may be seated.” His voice
was high and squeaky and sounded strangely familiar, though Frankie
couldn’t quite place it.

With a feeling of
immense relief, she sat, trying not to squash or injure Kerov’s
still-hard shaft in the process. She had an almost insurmountable
urge to reach into his tight trousers and adjust it to a more
comfortable position but she knew she couldn’t do it. Until it went
down on its own, she would just have to deal with the
discomfort.

“
Well now,” Brigadier Tlox said from her left hand. “We can
begin.”

As he spoke, several
guards, who were obviously also trained as servers, came forward
and began pouring various alcoholic smelling beverages into the
tall shot glasses and the short, squat rectangular drinking
vessels. When they were finished they stepped back out of sight and
there was a moment of silence as though everyone was waiting for
something to happen.

“
This is the Feast of Valor,” piped up General Von-Doddle,
breaking the silence with his squeaky, somehow familiar voice.
“Tonight we drink the tears of our enemy and feast on their blood
and flesh.”

Frankie felt her stomach clench. She really,
really
hoped he was speaking
metaphorically but she had a bad feeling any vegetarian options
were going to be strictly limited or more probably, nonexistent.
Before she could think of a way to ask tactfully about it, the
General started unbuttoning the left sleeve of his uniform jacket.
To her right, Brigadier Tlox was doing the same.

Quickly, Frankie
unbuttoned her left sleeve, which had a long row of gold buttons
all the way up to the elbow, as well. She wished she had Kerov in
her head to tell her what to expect—unfortunately he was still
gone. The best she could do was to copy the people around her and
pray that no one noticed she had no idea what she was doing.

The General had
finished unbuttoning his sleeve and now he peeled it back,
revealing a bare, pudgy arm.

“
We will cut them to the quick and feast on their blood!” he
announced. Then, lifting the small triangular-shaped shovel
instrument which was lying across the black bowl, he dipped it into
the ruby-red jelly and smeared a long line of it from his wrist to
his forearm. With apparent relish, he started at his elbow and
licked up to his wrist, lapping away the trail of jelly
completely.

“
So shall it be!” came a deep-throated roar from every man
seated at the long tables. Then everyone began to copy the
General’s actions. Frankie did too, dipping her triangle shaped
butter knife into the red jelly and smearing it on the underside of
Kerov’s broad forearm. Then, starting at the elbow, she started to
lick upward.

Ugh!
A thick,
metallic, rusty taste filled her mouth.
Madre de Dios—is this actually
blood?
She looked at the
ruby-red jelly smeared liberally on Kerov’s arm. It
must
be—some kind of coagulated blood.
Surreptitiously, she looked around for a napkin to wipe the rest of
it away. But though the Tarsians had very elaborate plates and
cutlery, there was no table linen in sight—well, except for the
black tablecloth. All right—maybe she could wipe the disgusting
blood jelly off on that.

But just as she was
about to wipe her arm on the edge of the cloth hanging down near
her lap, she saw Brigadier Tlox glaring at her.

“
What,
do you
think you’re doing?
”
he demanded
in a growling undertone.

“
Oh, um…” Frankie couldn’t think of any excuse that might be
acceptable for profaning what was obviously an important ritual.
“Nothing,” she muttered. “My…my arm was itching, that’s all.” Then,
quickly, she brought her arm to her mouth and finished licking away
the cold blood jelly, fighting not to gag as she did so.

Tlox was still
glaring at her when the General spoke again.

“
We will burn the flesh from their bones and feast upon it!”
he proclaimed in that high, squeaky voice which reminded Frankie of
someone. Who was it? Some program her nieces and nephews
watched…she just couldn’t remember right now.

“
So shall it be!” everyone in the room chorused, agreeing with
the General’s words once more.

Immediately the bowls of blood jelly were whisked away and the
servers placed chunks of something on the golden plates beneath.
Chunks of
what
Frankie
had no idea but to her, the thing on her plate looked like a lump
of coal or charcoal.

To her right, the
General grabbed the middle sized spork and one of the knives and
started to saw off a piece of his own black lump. Aware that Tlox
was still watching her, Frankie did the same. It was incredibly dry
and tough and hard to cut—in fact, she could barely manage to make
a dent in its carbonized shell.

“
What are you doing?” Tlox hissed again, frowning at her. “Why
are you using the single sided knife? Everyone knows that the
two-sided blade is the only proper instrument to carve
blackened
vorg
flesh!”

“
Oh, right—of course,” Frankie blustered. “I…I must have
grabbed the wrong one by mistake.” Quickly she put down the single
sided knife and picked up the double bladed one which was
considerably sharper. With this she was finally able to carve off a
piece of the charcoal looking lump and put it in her mouth along
with everyone else.

It
was meat, just as she had feared and suspected. Clearly she wasn’t
going to be able to remain true to her vegetarian ways during this
particular meal. However, even if she hadn’t been a vegetarian,
Frankie would have found the blackened
vorg
flesh disgusting.

Blackened my ass,
she thought, chewing the bitter, dry, crumbling bite she’d
managed to hack off.
This stuff is
burned.
And
yet somehow even through the horrible charred flavor, she could
still taste the gaminess of the meat underneath.
Madre de Dios, give me
strength! How much more of this am I going to have to eat?
she wondered
dismally.

“
We will suck the marrow from their bones!” declared the
General.

“
So shall it be!” Frankie intoned with everyone else in
response.

To her relief the
burned lump of flesh and the golden plate were whisked away. But
then a huge, raw, bloody bone was placed on the red plate in front
of her to take its place.

At once, the General
took up the three-sided knife and began sawing at the end of his
bone—which looked to Frankie like the femur of some hapless animal.
Taking her own three sided knife, she began sawing as well, working
on the knobby white end of the bloody bone. She refused to think
about what would happen when she got it off. The three sided knife
was horribly sharp and before she knew it, she was staring into a
bloody hole at the end of the bone.

Beside her, General
Von-Doddle reached for the long, black corkscrew-looking
instrument, inserted it into his own bone, and began twisting
vigorously. When he withdrew it, a lump of glistening, fatty,
yellow and red marrow jiggled on the end like Jell-O.

Frankie stared at
it, both mesmerized and horrified. This was too far…too much. She
felt her stomach turn over in a slow, disgusted roll.

Dios, no…I can’t…I can’t do that. Please, I just
can’t.

Then she became
aware of Tlox’s cadaverously thin face. He was staring at her and
glaring, clearly wondering why she was falling behind on the
feasting.

It’s for Kerov,
Frankie reminded herself.
I have to do this for him! His whole career is riding
on this stupid banquet. I
have
to.

Taking a deep
breath, she reached for her long black corkscrew and began screwing
it into the hole at the end of the long, bloody bone. In short
order she was able to pull out her own lump of marrow.

Tlox was still
staring at her, holding his own marrow mass. He popped it into his
mouth and chewed, then raised his thin, white-blond eyebrows at her
in question.

No
choice…no choice, I
have
to.

Taking a deep breath
and closing her eyes, Frankie put the jiggling lump of fatty marrow
between her lips and swallowed it as quickly as she could.

It was all she could
do to keep from gagging. Despite getting it down as fast as she
could, the marrow still coated her tongue with a fatty, bloody
taste and a slimy texture that reminded her of mucus.

I’m going to puke if I can’t get this taste out of my
mouth!
Frankie
swallowed convulsively. She could feel her stomach protesting,
demanding that she eject the disgusting alien meat products she’d
been forced to eat. Grimly, she held on to her gorge. She couldn’t
puke at such an important banquet—it would ruin Kerov’s chances for
a promotion.

“
And we will drink their tears!” proclaimed the General, again
in that high voice.

“
So shall it be!”

Who does he sound like—some cartoon character. Who?
Who?
Frankie
thought, desperate to take her mind away from the horrible taste
that still flooded her mouth.

“
Now we will pour the tears,” the small, round man proclaimed.
Turning to Frankie, he raised the rectangular drinking vessel in
front of him. “Commander, allow me to give you the taste of our
mutual enemy’s despair,” he proclaimed. “It is salty…as salty as
the sea!”

The sea…the sea…Who
lives in a pineapple under the sea? Absorbent and yellow and porous
is he!

Finally, Frankie was able to place his voice.
Sponge
Bob—
Madre de
Dios—
General
Von-Doddle sounded like
Sponge Bob Square Pants!
A bubble of hysterical laughter rose in her
throat and broke free before she could catch it.