Switched: Brides of the Kindred 17 (34 page)

The General glared
at her.

“
Commander?” he demanded in his high, Sponge Bob voice. “Do
you wish to partake in this ritual or not?”

“
Of…of course.” Frantically, Frankie attempted to turn her
laugh into a cough. “Forgive me, General—the, uh, delicious marrow
got stuck in my throat.”

“
Well…” The General seemed somewhat mollified. “All right. If
you would partake in the tears of our enemy, raise your vessel with
me.”

“
Oh—oh, yes, of course!” Quickly, Frankie raised the
rectangular drinking vessel with the pour spout at one corner. Her
earlier assessment had been correct—it was made of stone and it
was
very
heavy. Luckily, Kerov was
extremely strong and she lifted it easily although she could tell
if she had been in her own body she probably wouldn’t have been
able to budge it. It sat in her hand, about the size of a brick,
but five times as heavy.

“
And now, if you would…” Reaching up, the General entwined his
chubby arm with hers, wrapping around until the spout of his
rectangular drinking vessel was poised by her mouth.

Frankie hastily
copied his motions, getting into what she hoped was the correct
position with her own pouring spout aimed at the General’s pursed
lips. She had to stoop down from Kerov’s great height to do it,
until she was almost crouching in front of the little bowling-ball
shaped man. The pose reminded Frankie of two lovers drinking a
toast and she hoped desperately that she was doing it right.

“
We drink their tears!” cried the General and then he poured a
few drops of the cloudy white liquor which filled the rectangular
stone vessel into Frankie’s mouth.

Ugh!
Frankie
tried hard not to pull a face. The liquor was like the saltiest soy
sauce she had ever tasted. At least it washed most of the fatty,
bloody taste of the marrow away but
not
in a pleasant way. And, as she swallowed, it tickled the back
of her throat, giving her an almost insurmountable urge to
cough.

Frankie fought the
tickle in her throat grimly but some things can’t be helped. As she
started to tip the rectangular container forward, attempting to
pour just a few drops into the General’s mouth, a cough exploded
out of her mouth. Frankie tried to catch it with her hand but she
was contorted into such a strange position to do the toast in the
first place that she couldn’t manage it.

To
her horror, flecks of bloody marrow, burned
vorg
flesh, and the blood jelly sprayed directly into
the General’s face. But even worse, the cough made her hand shake
and a huge salty wave of the tears liquor slopped into his open
mouth.

“
Argh!” he spluttered, jerking back and gagging on the cloudy
white liquor.

“
Oh, I am
so
sorry,
General Van-Doodle! I mean, Vin-Diddle…I mean…I’m just really
sorry!” Frankie exclaimed. Hastily, she tried to extricate herself
from the awkward embrace but as she did, her too-loose
chunnel
slipped forward and
knocked against the General’s own tall metal hat with a
resounding
goooonggg!

There were shocked
gasps from everyone in attendance and the General looked at her
with wide eyes.

“
Commander! Control your
chunnel!”
he squeaked in a very offended Sponge Bob
voice.

“
I…I will. I’m so sorry.” Frankie scrambled to get the heavy
hat straight on her head and sat back in her chair feeling
miserable.
Dios,
she was
really screwing things up for Kerov here! And she wanted so
badly
to do well for him. Despite the fact
that she’d only known him a few days, she really
liked
the big Kindred. But here she was,
ruining his life…
again.

Kerov,
she
thought miserably.
I wish you were here to guide me. Where did you go?

A sharp, pinching
grip on her upper arm distracted her from her morbid thoughts.
Turning her head, she saw that Brigadier Tlox was glaring at
her.

“
What is
wrong
with
you?” he demanded in a low voice filled with barely controlled
fury. “You are making me look like a fool for inviting you to this
banquet! You
know
it is
forbidden for one male’s
chunnel
to touch another’s!” The way he said it and the scandalized
look he was giving her made Frankie think her faux-pax was somehow
sexual in nature.

Geeze, I didn’t realize banging metal hats together could be
construed as a homoerotic act!
But apparently it was. Brigadier Tlox was acting like
she’d groped the General’s crotch instead of just knocking
their
chunnels
together.

“
I’m sorry,” she said. “I…my
chunnel
is loose for some reason.”

“
I
can
see
that,” he snarled. “The
whole
banquet
hall
can see that!
It fits you so poorly, one might
almost
think that you were wearing
another male’s
chunnel
!”

From behind his
boney shoulder, Frankie could see Jorn’s wide purple eyes, filled
with panic. He caught her gaze and gave his head a short, sharp
shake.

“
Oh no—no of course not! I would…would never do that! Wear
another man’s—I mean male’s
chunnel?
No, that would be
disgusting!”
Frankie proclaimed. Perhaps a bit too loudly because now every
eye in the place seemed to be on her and Tlox and their
conversation.

Tlox seemed to
realize it too.

“
I
should hope
not,”
he
hissed. “Now let’s get back to the banquet.”

He
released her arm from his punishing grip and Frankie rubbed it
resentfully.
Pinche pendajo!
Who knew Kerov’s supervisor was such a dick? He reminded
Frankie a little of Ellen, her own supervisor at Victoria’s Secret
back home, only with better cheekbones. Turning, she tried to get
back to her meal.

Thankfully, the
banquet seemed to be coming to a close. The General—who had wiped
off his face and regained his composure—spoke up again.

“
Our enemies are many and fierce. But when we have eaten their
flesh and drunk of their tears, the fruits of our victory shall be
sweet indeed!” he intoned.

“
So shall it be!” everyone shouted, Frankie included. The
golden plate with the sawed up bone was whisked away and a little
blue dish with what looked like a perfectly round scoop of
chocolate chip ice cream was put in its place.

Frankie stared at it in hope and disbelief. How could they
have chocolate chip ice cream
here
on a planet galaxies away from Earth? But that was exactly
what it looked like—a soft circle of melty white ice cream
liberally studded with delicious, gooey chocolate chips. There was
even a dainty triangle shaped spoon to eat it with.

General Von-Doddle
took up his spoon and ate a bite. “Delicious!” he declared.

His actions seemed
to be the cue for everyone else to eat too. Cautiously, Frankie
picked up her spoon and dug a tiny bite of the vanilla part of the
ice cream-looking stuff. She put it in her mouth, hoping for the
best but prepared for the worst…and was pleasantly surprised.

It
didn’t taste
exactly
like
vanilla ice cream, but it was smooth and creamy and sweet and cold
and it melted on her tongue in a very pleasant way.

Dios—finally!
Something that doesn’t taste like blood or fat or burned meat!

Eagerly, Frankie dug
in. She got a big bite studded with chocolate chips this time and
ate it quickly. And then another and another. But suddenly she
realized it was almost all gone and she’d barely had time to taste
it. The next bite, she decided, she wanted to savor. She scooped up
another generous mouthful and let it melt on her tongue, almost
moaning with pleasure.

So
good! It’s so go—
Her thoughts were cut off abruptly when she felt
something
move
in her
mouth.

Madre de Dios—what the hell?
Automatically, Frankie spit the mouthful into
her cupped hand. To her horror, she saw that the chocolate chips
weren’t chocolate chips after all. They appeared to be small,
brownish-black worm-like creatures which reared their tiny blind
snouts, wriggling in the puddle of melted white in the center of
her palm.

Frankie made a sound of disgust and wiped her hand on the
black tablecloth without thinking. Jellied blood…burned meat…raw,
fatty bone marrow and soy-sauce liquor—all that she could handle.
But bugs and slugs and anything crawly or slimy freaked her out.
Especially something crawling in her mouth! It was just
too
much
.

But I already
ate
some of
them! A
lot
of them!
There were only a few
bites of the “ice cream” left—the rest was all in her belly.
She felt herself starting
to gag at the thought and swallowed hard. There were alien slugs
swimming in her stomach right now…
Dios,
what was she going to do?

“
What’s the matter, Commander?” came the cold voice of
Brigadier Tlox from her side. “Haven’t you ever had
belii
slugs before? They come from the
Verbon mountain range, of course—a great delicacy I’m told. The
handlers freeze them in a concoction of sweetened
torg
mucus which causes the slugs to
become inert. Then one can chew and ingest them with
ease.”

Torg mucus? Dios—this just gets worse and worse!
But Frankie tried not to
show her horror and disgust.

“
Oh, yes, of course,” she said weakly, trying to smile.
“
Belii
slugs—delicious—eat them
all the time. I just, uh, think I got a bad one in that last bite,
that’s all.”

“
Of
course
Kerov
hasn’t had
belii
slugs!”
This was from Jorn who was staring at Tlox and frowning. “He’s full
blooded Kindred—he
can’t
eat
them, Brigadier. A Kindred’s higher body heat wakes the slugs
before they can be properly digested and causes great internal
distress.”

“
Great…distress?” Frankie asked faintly.

The banquet was
breaking up and everyone around her was standing and shaking
hands—or shaking arms anyway, which was what they seemed to do
around here. General Von-Doddle gave her a brief nod and departed.
Frankie knew she should have been incredibly glad she didn’t have
to eat any more disgusting alien food. But for right now, she was
too worried to be relieved.

She put a hand to
her stomach. Everything seemed fine so far but for how long? How
much would the bunch of slugs she’d swallowed without realizing it
bother Kerov’s Kindred body? And when would it start happening?

“
Am I really going to be in…in distress?” she asked, looking
at Jorn.

“
I
should think you’ll find out all about it soon enough.” Tlox was
positively smirking at him now while Jorn was frowning
angrily.

“
Brigadier Tlox, I must ask,” he said. “Did you
know
that
belii
slugs were going to be served at tonight’s banquet
when you invited Kerov to be here?”

“
And if I
did?”
Tlox
turned to glare at Kerov’s friend. “What of it? If the
Kindred
wishes to rise above the
Rank of Commander, he needs to be tough enough to deal with
everything a full blooded Tarsian does.”

“
We Tarsians have lower body temperatures, enabling us to
ingest the slugs and pass them through our system without harm,”
Jorn insisted. “Letting Kerov eat them while knowing full well that
his body temperature would awaken them and cause him harm was
wrong!”

“
The only thing I see wrong here is a full blooded Tarsian
defending a Kindred scum,” Tlox hissed, turning to glare at
Jorn.

“
Kerov is my friend,” Jorn said, his pale blond eyebrows
knitting in fury. “When you extended this invitation to us both, I
took it in good faith. I thought you honestly wanted to promote
both of us—not use the opportunity to embarrass and harass a fine
Commander who has done you no harm.”

Frankie was touched at the level of Jorn’s loyalty. She had
read in Kerov’s mind that he only trusted the other man so much—but
she had to say, she thought maybe the big Kindred had misjudged his
best friend. She wanted to speak up and thank Jorn…but she was
beginning to feel strange. Very,
very
strange.

“
I
have been watching your friend, Commander Volx here, for quite some
time,” Tlox was saying. “He has almost no Tarisan blood in his
veins. He’s nearly pure bred Kindred—one of the few still left.
I
knew
there had to be something
wrong with him”