Healer's Heart
Section 1
by
Ann Marie Olson
Story © 2002 Ann
Marie Olson
Introduction
Vanesa rubbed her tentacles over her nails. Vayer was not going back on the plane calmly.
"What are you doing here?" He growled. The sound raised the hackles on the back of her neck. She'd never seen him violent, or at least not more so than when he'd danced for Darya. The young man he was talking to towered over him, as blond haired as any Russian she'd seen so far. Vayer looked like the young man's shadow.
"Who is he talking to?" Sevrin cocked his head, his nager twining uneasily.
"I don't know who." She let him capture her hand. "I didn't think we were expecting guests over the summer."
"What does he look like?" Sevrin's fingers tangled with her tentacles, stilling them.
"Well, he's huge for one, and doesn't quite look full grown, somewhere in his late teens, I'd guess." She thought he looked familiar. "Blond hair, probably blue eyes, although he is wearing glasses with fine gold frames."
"Glasses?" Sevrin snorted. "Why in the world is he wearing glasses instead of having had his vision corrected? I can tell from here he's a Sergei Sharm Lord."
"He looks like Diomid." Then she stopped. "Its Dimitri!"
"What is he doing here?" Sevrin hooked up the nonexistent skirts of his kador and left her behind. As usual, she trotted after him to catch up. Vanesa really wished he wouldn't forget her short legs.
"Why are you asking me?" She snarled, nearly running into his broad back when he stopped unexpectedly.
"And just who are you?" His question brought her peering around. She'd also learned not to be too bold when it came to her Russian compatriots. They would often enough strike first and apologize later. The headaches weren't worth her saving nager.
A huge black dragon was now draped over Dimitri's shoulders, staring at both of them with lambent gold eyes. "You can see it?"
"I'd say him." Sevrin murmured. "I don't think he'd appreciate being called 'it'."
"Never having met a dragon before, I'm not entirely sure of the correct form of address." Her mouth had gone dry with unease. There was a power behind those slit pupiled eyes she didn't know if she could deal with.
"I think its his nager." Sevrin didn't look away from the creature still staring at them. "Although I'm surprised I can visualize him."
"You can?" She felt her own hand grow cold in Sevrin's. "I thought you couldn't visualize anything new."
"I guess I can." He shook his head. His heavy braid tapped her wrist, making her tentacles retract suddenly. She'd gotten caught one too many times by Sevrin's hair not to be very careful. It was heavy enough to give her a nasty thump. Vayer was still berating his child on the steps.
"I don't remember giving you permission to traipse half way around the world, Dimitri." His own tentacles were also firmly in their sheathes. "And you, Mitka, I'd think you'd know better. There aren't any Lords for you here."
"There's her." A long, pink forked tongue licked the air.
"I don't think so." Sevrin growled, holding Vanesa's hand so tightly the bones shifted in his grasp. She didn't pull away, even though she wanted to lean back as they walked up to stand next to Vayer and Darya. Now the dragon was towering over all of them. A long, slimy something landed on her face.
"Mitka!" Dimitri's face turned up to look at the dragon. Sharp fangs showed over the creature's lips. Vanesa reached up and wiped away the sticky stuff. She sniffed at it. What was it? "Selyn." Dimitri rolled his eyes. Another long gobbet stretched down from one of Mitka's fangs. This time Vanesa ducked. "He's a bit excited."
"You don't belong here, Dimitri." Darya's lips were tight, her nager twining around her restlessly. It looked like a dog wanting to fight, but afraid of a far larger wolf. "You can come back with us."
"The Techton has asked for a representative of the Demense to examine personnel for a Sime Center to be build in Moskva." Dimitri handed her a bit of silk. Vanesa stared at it for a moment and then gingerly wiped away the slobber, whatever it was. It had begun to make her skin itch. When the soft cloth brushed over her skin, however, Mitka leaned down, nearly shoving his head into her shirt!
"Stop that," Dimitri sounded more exasperated than mad. "He's a bit forward." She had the sense of Dimitri yanking at the back of Mitka's neck. The dragon whined deep in his throat, pressing his forehead against Vanesa's breastbone.
"You can't even keep him from molesting the Sectuib in Kaon. How can you expect him not to scare the selyn out of every renSime in klicks!" Vayer, this time, yanked at Mitka's neck. The dragon didn't budge. Vanesa certainly wasn't going to move.
A soft, warm thrumming came from Mitka, through her chest and all the way to the base of her skull. It actually felt quite nice. His purring increased in volume until Vanesa's bones rattled with the force of it.
"Mitka." Sevrin growled. One gold eye opened, glaring at him. "I'm bigger and meaner than you ever hope to be."
"I have fangs, pretty Sharm Lord." Mitka hissed after pulling away. Vanesa's chest felt strangely empty without his warmth. She glanced at Dimitri in question. He just shrugged. "Are you going to Challenge me for her?" Dimitri rolled his eyes, as if at a three year old. She could tell even if his nager were serious, Dimitri wasn't. Vanesa stifled a giggle behind her hand.
"No, I'm going to smash you flat." A hammer blow of power rocked Vanesa onto her heels. Mitka reared up, snarling and hissing. He looked serious now, as serious as shen. But Dimitri felt like Diomid, stable, reliable, in control. Even if his nager were getting into fights.
He stepped forward. "You will obey me." Dimitri growled and an even brighter flash of power drove Vanesa back a step. When she blinked her zlinning clear, Mitka was no longer ten feet tall and looming over them, but as tiny as a house cat and curled around Dimitri's throat like a big jet necklace. "I am sorry he got a bit carried away." He repeated his shrug, blue eyes twinkling in the warm spring sunshine. He winked at her.
"No one was hurt." Even though deep inside, Vanesa was trembling down to the soles of her shoes. Dimitri might not have been aggressive, but those fangs zlinned deadly. "I don't know this is a good idea." Even Nashen had never given off this sense of power. "We really don't have anyone here who could deal with him."
"I know." His wry smile was wistful. "Although we've learned to get by over the winter." He was stroking Mitka with his free hand, as if he were an odd sort of cat.
"How long has it been, Dimitri?" Vayer had on his best 'father' nager. Vanesa knew he was nominally Dimitri's father, but when they'd visited two winters ago, Dimitri'd been as wild as any young thing, and not listening to anyone. If anyone had any control over the lad it had been his mother, Darya. "Come on, I'm not going to step aside until you tell me."
"We gave an impersonal to Karola last month." One of Mitka's wings covered his face. "I don't like them." Dimitri's ears were bright red beneath his short hair.
Vayer sighed, closing his eyes. "I'd wondered why you'd cut your hair. You didn't have to."
"I know." He kept stroking Mitka's back, as she would have a cat or other pet. One eye peered out from under his wing, glaring at Sevrin this time, as if he'd had anything to do with Mitka getting thumped. It was all his own fault. She shrugged in half an apology. "We'll get by. Diomid wanted me to spend some time with Sevrin."
"He'd said he had a student beyond his teaching, Dimitri." Sevrin also sighed. "I hadn't expected you." Sevrin's hands ran down his clothes, as they always did when something was bothering him. As if to make sure he did have them on in the right order. Not that Vanesa would let him go out without telling him if something were wrong.
"Why am I the last one to learn of these little arrangements?" Vanesa complained. "Don't I have any say in what goes on around here anymore?" She was feeling more than a bit put out. Supposedly she was running this madhouse around here. Not that anyone ever listened to her. They all went to Sevrin!
"Oh love," he turned to her. "Of course you do." His hand cupped her face, reading her expression. "I'd only thought he was sending me a youngster who required my specialized background." Even still he wouldn't talk about his past, only filling in little pieces at a time. "Some of the things I was taught weren't pleasant in the learning."
"They were set up by Diomid." She was confused.
"Some were simply painful." His indigo eyes were bottomless pools of night. Even sightless, because of how he'd lost his vision, the illusion of meaning in them was perfect. They responded as anyone else's, unless he were wildly distracted. "Others were so harsh I don't want to remember."
"Then why did you say you'd help teach him?" Vanesa really didn't want to send Dimitri away, not after he'd come so far. Besides, as possibly lethal as Mitka might be, right now he was incredibly cute. Her tentacles itched with wanting to find out if he'd purr for her again. She wouldn't do any more, but he had seemed friendly to her, at least.
"Because I didn't." His jaw clenched. "I never told Diomid he could send his firstborn son. All I said is that I would have a few hours a week to train up an assistant. That is all." His nager went stone hard.
"Diomid didn't ask." Dimitri continued to stroke Mitka. "He, and I, knew you'd refuse. I do have other work to do here."
"You can't." Vanesa put her laterals out. "We don't have anyone here who can give you a personal transfer, Dimitri."
"Why don't you let me find that out for myself." His chin went up. The gesture was so much like Vayer she had to hide a small grin. "I am certainly an adult by Techton standards, and now I am on Techton soil." He made the final stair onto the ground. Dimitri still towered over his father, and was even taller than Sevrin. Vanesa fought not to back up another step just to see him better.
"You are." Darya had her hand on Vayer's wrist. Vanesa could see Vayer's jaw move, in anger or frustration she didn't know.
"I want paddle your butt, Dimitri." He snorted. "Although I'm sure Mitka would take my hands off at the wrists if I tried any such thing."
"Besides, Aliana is going to have to have a trained healer." Dimitri caught her eyes. "She's not going to manage with some fool of a channel who doesn't know their laterals from a stethoscope." He held up a large white leather bag. "I am also a fully trained Sergei healer."
"Like Diomid?" Vanesa's certainly knew nothing she could provide here would match his skill. With Kolya he'd been absolutely wonderful.
"You don't have the experience, Dimitri." Vayer's hand was on his sword hilt. "I'm still stronger than you, even with Mitka. No, you will return with us to Russia."
"I have no choice, otyet." His eyes rolled up in his head. "You will submit, Lord and Ruler Arkayevich. We have sent Dimitri Sergeyevich here. You will not countermand our orders." The echoing tones of the Veiled spilled over them. Vanesa's eyes widened. She'd never thought to hear the Fellowship on Western soil.
Vayer went to one knee, bowing his head. "I didn't understand."
"No, you wouldn't have." Dimitri's hand came to rest on Vayer's head. He was so young, Vanesa's eyes narrowed. How dare they take over a young man as a pawn in their power games.
"He's too young." Sevrin went to his brother's side. "You can't do this to Dimitri."
"We can do as we choose, Slopye."
Sevrin hissed between his teeth, nager going blood red in fury. It was Vanesa's turn to hold him back. It didn't work. By the time they were done, everyone but Dimitri had piled in. "You will never call me that again." It was like holding shards of glass.
"You were ours." Dimitri's face was white with sweat. Vanesa could see him tremble all over, like a horse fighting its rider and trapped.
"Enough." He growled, his voice going back to normal. "Don't make me do this."
Sevrin slumped, his nager softening. "I'm sorry."
"No," Dimitri looked away. His glasses reflected the far distant buildings. "Sevrin?"
"I am no longer of the Fellowship." His voice was harsh, breath still rasping in his throat. "Why do you return?"
"Because we will examine this cancer, Slopye. We will not let it destroy Rodina." The echo had returned. Mitka was trembling, his face buried against Dimitri's throat. Vanesa's heart went out to him, even as Sevrin trembled in their hands. "You are still our creature."
"I am human." He threw them off. "I will not harm Dimitri, but I swear to you, if you do harm him, or any of us, I will see you dead. All of you!"
Mad laughter came from Dimitri's throat. "You can not touch us, blind one. Even here, in Kaon, you hold no power other than that which we give you."
"Enough," Vanesa snapped. "I am Sectuib in Kaon and you are trespassing. You will return to Russia and there you will stay."
"Sectuib?" Dimitri's voice trembled. "It isn't me." He blinked repeatedly, as if he wished he could cry and couldn't. "I would never say such things."
"You should be Veiled." Sevrin's lips were drawn into a tight line. "You don't belong above."
"Neither do you, Slopye." The veiled had returned.
"This is like a bad movie." Vanesa'd had enough. "Now begone!" Dimitri slumped, nearly falling to his knees.
"Exorcism?" Sevrin's snort brought her out of trying to zlin if Dimitri'd be well enough to return to Russia. Although now she really didn't want to.
"It worked." She shrugged, daring to expose her laterals a fraction. Still she couldn't zlin Dimitri at all, not even as much as if he were a child. "Although I can't zlin you." She finally snarled in frustration.
"You can't?" Vayer glanced at her, even as he joined Dimitri in stroking Mitka's back. The little dragon finally peered out and rubbed his cheek against Vayer's hand. "You poor thing." His thumb caressed a swollen bulge behind Mitka's jaw. "You shouldn't have come here so far out of cycle."
"Do you think I had a choice after that display?" Dimitri raised one eyebrow. The gesture reminded her forcefully of Diomid. "Yes, he is my sire." Dimitri met her eyes. He shook himself all over, and was once again the neatly dressed young man who'd first walked off the plane. The only sign of his fit was the huge sweat stains on his shirt and remaining dampness at his brow. He took another bit of silk from his breast pocket and wiped it away. The gesture was so like any other businessman, Vanesa felt a grin come to her face.
He tipped his head to her. "So, Sectuib Kaon, will I be able to perform my duties to my country and to your Techton here, or shall I find transportation to elsewhere?" He raised a hand when she was going to ask about money. "I would like to see my sister, at least sometime, however and do you really think the Techton will allow a first order, four plus donor to walk around without at least trying to get the selyn from him?"
Vanesa took a deep breath and let it out quickly. "No, I won't bar you from Aliana. Although I'll have you know, I hate being manipulated like this! And how do you know so much about the Techton?"
He shrugged silently.
"Do you truly think I enjoyed insulting my uncle to within a shade of my own life?" He pushed his glasses back up on his nose. "I'd hoped to learn from him." This time his tone was that of an adolescent, one quite unsure of himself.
"I know it wasn't you." Sevrin reached a hand toward Mitka. Suspicion was writ large on Mitka's every scale. "Or you, little Mitka."
"You're a Sharm Lord." He snorted, spraying more slobber everywhere. "A rival."
"And you're being difficult." Sevrin shook a finger at him. "I can pound you into paste, Mitka."
"You wouldn't because it would hurt your nephew." Mitka's long tongue came out and wrapped around one of his fangs. "I'm not dumb."
"No, you're just rude." Dimitri reached up and clamped his hand around Mitka's jaws. "If you'll excuse his manners, Uncle Sevrin, I would like to learn from you. That is if your Lord accedes to my request to stay here."
"I was only wondering who was paying for this little junket." And wondering how she was going to get any work done around here at all. She'd so looked forward to at least a few months of uninterrupted time with Kaon and her own family. Much as she loved having Arkay and Nashen over the winters, it meant she really didn't get a whole lot done.
"As they demanded it, the Veiled." Dimitri's nostrils flared. "I wouldn't have agreed otherwise." Then his eyes twinkled a bit. "However, the fee from the Techton I'm pocketing."
"You are my son, Dimitri." Vayer's swat with his field would have knocked Vanesa on her behind. Mitka just writhed out of Dimitri's hold and snapped at it. More selyn went everywhere as his jaws snapped shut on empty air. "Making selyn out of thin air."
"I just wish Mitka wouldn't get the stuff all over everything." He wiped a bit off his glasses. "I knew there was a reason not to wear these."
"Why are you?" Vayer flicked a tentacle at them.
"Because I can do all surgical work quite well without them. I just can't see more than about ten meters away. I'd rather not take the risk of loosing the fine discernment with optical surgery." He shrugged. "It was easier to have a pair of spectacles made by Kirov than anything else."
"They look very nice." Vayer's lean body was visibly relaxing with each passing moment. Oh, no, Vanesa thought, they were going to be chatting here all afternoon. "I don't like your staying here alone, Dimitri."
"I don't much care for the idea myself, papa." He spared a guilty glance in Vanesa's direction. "I've heard about the Techton."
"Don't believe all of the rumors." Vanesa felt she had to defend her honor, somehow. Although he seemed to know more than he really should.
"Just most of them." Sevrin added in, deciding to be a twit again. "Although I do have to admit it is probably wise to investigate the backgrounds of those who wish to live on Russian soil."
"Oh, I think it was very wise. I just wish I weren't the one who had to do it." He peeled Mitka from around his throat and cast him into the air, as Vanesa'd seen sharm lords do with hunting birds. Now she could zlin the faintest edges of a true field surrounding Dimitri. It was no where near the strength or coherence she'd expect of any child of Darya's. Not after having met both Tzer and Aliana. "However, needs must when the Veiled drive."
"Too true," Sevrin tipped his head down for an instant, as if giving a tiny bow. "I was of them."
"My sire has two weeks out of the month with them." Dimitri shrugged, looking up at Mitka circling overhead.
"Literally?" Vanesa couldn't see how that would work.
"They're waiting for Tzakiran's heir." His gray-blue eyes held hers. "No, not literally, but he can be called in by them at any time. I'd thought I could be free of the familial curse."
"Not with your power. Not with Mitka on your shoulder." Sevrin's voice had softened back to its normal silk and sable warmth. "Although I'm surprised you aren't with them."
Dimitri's bitter snort was far older than his years. He flicked his hand at Mitka. "There's your reason. I can not take transfer from a Veiled Lord."
"Oh," Sevrin's lips pursed. Vanesa could zlin the dozens of questions her mate was dying to ask.
"No." She cut him off before they could all get so involved here on the tarmac the plane would never get anywhere. "You are welcome to stay at Kaon for as long as you wish. Although I have to warn you, I do not have the time to assist you much."
"I do." Sevrin, of course, offered up his time.
"Sevrin," she growled at him, tugging on his arm. "I'd like you to be with me and the children."
"I'm not going to neglect them." His look of offense would not have been out of place on Arkay. "Besides, Dimitri should learn something about child rearing."
Vanesa shook her head. She'd have much rather throttled him. It was her privilege to throttle Sevrin when he was being difficult. "I don't think he's of an age, Sevrin." She knew Sharm Lords weren't considered adult until their mid-twenties, if then.
"Oh, we all like playing with children."
"Quit," she put her hand over his mouth. "I'm sorry Dimitri, but we had not expected you." Sevrin muttered something about letting him go. "We both have things we have to do this spring."
"I quite understand." He hefted his bag and reached around to grab another. "I didn't expect such a forceful welcome."
"Then why did you let Vayer trap you on the steps?"
"I'd wanted to see him." His storm gray eyes turned to his father, then turned away. "Where's Arkay and Nashen?"
"Late," Vayer leaned against the railing. "So it isn't like we've held anyone up."
"I guess not." Vanesa sighed. "Although how are we going to pry Arkay's nager out of here now?"
"By not telling him I was here." Dimitri said. Mitka's scales grayed and Vanesa could here a soft keen at the edge of her hearing.
"No," she shook her head. "That wouldn't be fair to anyone." Vanesa took the stairs two at a time and went forward into the cockpit. "What schedule is this plane on?"
"We are due to start the engines in fourteen minutes and thirty two seconds. After that, we will taxi out to the runway and wait until exactly two forty-one."
RenSimes, Vanesa sighed to herself. "I had meant to ask, where is this plane bound, exactly, for the next week?"
"We are due back here in five days, with a load of furs from Moskva, that's all."
"Then you are grounded until tomorrow. We're having problems on the ground."
The woman's nager twinkled. "I heard."
"I bet you did." Vanesa winked and backed out of the cabin. "All right, lets take care of this little lats up and try again later in the week."
"I knew there was a reason I loved you other than your selyn." Sevrin stood, waiting. Finally remembering her manners, Vanesa offered him her arm. When she tried to move, he didn't budge. What was wrong?
"May I?" Dimitri came up on her other side.
"Do you promise not to make another advance on me like you did?" The way he'd threatened her relationship with Sevrin was not something she wanted repeated. The Rus were flexible in their family arrangements. Vanesa was not.
"I swear I won't, however, I make no promises for Mitka." He held up a hand and she waited. "Not because I don't wish to, but because I have no desire to be forsworn. He can and has done things I did not approve of."
"Such as?" Vanesa now wasn't so sure she wanted Dimitri around. From the set of his shoulders, what Mitka had done in the past could be considered far less than wanted by the recipients. "I'm not going to have a dangerous creature running around Kaon out of control."
"You let Viasha and Sivaya run around loose." Sevrin murmured in her ear. "They're more of a hazard than one Sharm Lord's nager. If nothing else because his nager won't be leaving blocks on the stairs or tops underfoot."
"I have to know, Dimitri." She grimaced at his flinch. "Have you ever killed without your desire or forced a Sime into transfer."
Dimitri paled until he was whiter than new snow. "No," he shook his head quickly. "He's never done either of those things. Obviously, or I wouldn't be here. The first is a capital crime, the second a crime for which the punishment is the ban. You saw the effect of the ban on Tzer."
"Not clearly." Vanesa vaguely remembered something wrong with her brother's transfer partner when he'd first come to Kaon, but hadn't known anything about it. At that point Mikal and her other subordinates had been doing all the liaison work with them. Dimitri raised an eyebrow at her, just as Diomid would.
"Indeed," he stood as patiently as any servant they'd brought back from Russia. "Then, if you wish, I had no desire to be barred from all transfer. It is not a pleasant experience."
"You're willing to do it here." Vanesa frowned. The young man was self controlled to a fault. If only it weren't for his nager, she'd have loved to have him here. He, himself, zlinned as if he'd be no problem at all.
"But not indefinitely, and I'd prefer to at least be able to find a channel to give me impersonal transfers." Mitka'd returned and was peering at her from under Dimitri's jaw. The effect was uncanny. "Although I'd want to talk with them first."
"To be honest with you, I don't know if I want you working with any legal Techton channels, Dimitri." Vanesa decided. "I want you under my laterals."
"Excuse me?" He blinked, staring at her. "Did you just say what I thought you did?" His ears pinked. Mitka stared at her, a long silvery gobbet of slime running from one fang. It was her turn to blink. He licked at it with his forked tongue, getting more slobber all over the place. She didn't want to know.
Vanesa thought about it. "Oh, not for transfer!" She glared at Mitka. His eyes went wide. His nonexistent chin quivered. "Stop pouting, Mitka!" Now I'm doing it, she thought. OK, so he might act independently alive, but I'm a trained Techton channel. Nagers aren't alive aside from their Donor! A single silver tear slid down Mitka's cheek. "Oh, I'm sorry." She hadn't meant to hurt his feelings.
Sevrin chuckled, wrapping his nager around her with the feel of warm silk, not incidentally making sure this young interloper knew she was claimed. Vanesa wasn't always too comfortable with how possessive he was with his field, but now was not a good time to quibble. "Don't let Mitka get away with begging, love."
Mitka sniffed, another tear following the first. "I hurt."
"Be quiet." Dimitri rubbed the bridge of his nose under his glasses. "You aren't getting your fangs on Sectuib and that is the end of that."
"But she's so bright and shiny and pretty." Now he was whining.
Vanesa knew how to deal with whining. "Mitka, hush. I don't put up with whining from the girls and I'm not going to put up with it from you. If you aren't good, I'm going to get the most unrighteous stick of a channel in here, one who can't even zlin you, and have him or her take your selyn. Have I made myself clear?"
"So if I'm good you'll have me?"
"No!" Dimitri, Vanesa, Vayer, Darya and Sevrin said in unison.
"Well maybe." She relented as he backwinged himself off Dimitri's shoulder and onto the ground. He sputtered, sneezing dust and selyn everywhere. Vanesa wondered if she really should have had those pickled figs for lunch. Particularly with the dates. Perhaps it had been a bad combination.
Dimitri put his bags down and scooped up Mitka, who was still trying to sneeze up a lung. "What got into you?" He wiped at Mitka's nose with one of his many, many handkerchiefs.
Finally Mitka stopped sputtering and snorting. He glanced at her again and gave a very fake sneeze.
"No, I'm not feeling that sorry for you." Vanesa had to admit it had been a good try. "If you're getting a cold, I'll just have to put a mustard plaster on your chest and feed you some of Domi's patented garlic and leek soup."
"Sounds tasty," he licked his lips. "But not right now. My jaws hurt."
Vanesa flicked a tentacle at Dimitri in question. Both of them stared at it so hard she yanked it back in, feeling a bit singed.
"Oh, my selyn manifests as venom in Mitka's jaws. He bites to get rid of it." Dimitri's gaze was calm, level, not at all insane, unlike his words.
Vanesa opened her mouth to ask if it hurt.
"No," Vayer's smile was a bit crooked. Although now Vanesa had the wonderful experience of seeing Lord and Ruler Vayer Mir blush. It was worth it. "It doesn't hurt at all."
She wasn't going to ask how he knew. Was not. Vanesa knew quite well the Rus almost always had sex with their transfer partners, at least right after transfer. She was not going to find out if Vayer had actually bedded his own son. She was still having a hard enough time with the thought her brother was bedding Tzer!
"Although if I have to take an impersonal, he always gives me a headache for it." Dimitri shrugged, then looked pointedly at her elbow. Oh, yes, right, her arm. She offered her arm at last. Fortunately, or possibly politely, Mitka had crawled up Dimitri's arm to his opposite shoulder. "Now there's a good lad. And don't drool, sneeze on, lick or otherwise molest Sectuib Kaon." Dimitri's voice was almost as pained as his expression. When he touched her, she could feel the bone deep ache of the exhaustion that came with a Donor missing too many transfers.
"One is too many." He grinned down at her, more than a bit crookedly. She knew she must have jumped, for he went on. "Sorry about overhearing your public thoughts, but I am tired and not guarding my tongue as I should. Believe me, I plan on getting a good night's sleep before I get to work."
"How do you plan on doing that?" Vayer asked, taking the larger of Dimitri's bags. "Is this all you brought?"
"I don't own much myself, papa." He glanced at the case. "My tools belong to Sergei, what you have there is mostly air. I was hoping to buy here, as I know clothes are cheaper in Lavean."
"Very much so." Vayer winced. "Hasn't Diomid given you a stipend for your work, if nothing else?"
"It all goes to my suite." He shrugged. "I had to buy these on credit." Dimitri tipped his head down, looking through the top of his glasses to the distant buildings. "Nivanya tried to gut me on the interest until I threatened to pay her direct."
"I thought she wanted in your kador?" At last they were making their way back across the tarmac. Vanesa knew today wasn't going to go smoothly. She'd just known it waking up. Some days were like that. It seemed her life was like that since the one winter when the entire leadership of Russia had landed on her door step, en masse.
"Only if she could bind me to Kirov, it seems." Mitka buried his face inside Dimitri's shirt. "Although she'd said if I'd consummate the transfer, she'd think about taking half off the price."
"How much were those?"
"Too much," Dimitri grimaced. "Close to two hundred days."
Vanesa did the math in her head. That was a month's rent on a decent apartment! "Why were they so expensive?"
"The glass grinding." He shrugged. "I wanted to be able to see what my hands were doing, so they are graduated from top to bottom. I'm still getting used to them."
"You don't have any clothes, but you bought fancy glasses." Vayer blinked at him. "Are you sure you're my son?" He flicked loose a bit of dust from his overtunic. It was not as fancy as the ones he'd worn the first time he'd visited, as Darya had neglected to pack this time, but it was still fancier than anything in Vanesa's closet.
"I have what I'm wearing." Dimitri shrugged, giving her a quick wink on the side away from Vayer. She didn't see anything wrong with what he was wearing, a nicely tailored white shirt with an overlapping placket, fawn breeches and knee high white boots. "Besides, it isn't like I'm done growing yet."
"You aren't?" Fell out of Vanesa's mouth. She looked him up and down again. He was already well over six feet tall and practically as broad across the shoulders. He was huge!
"No," he grinned, showing slightly uneven white teeth. "I still have another twenty or thirty kilos to go and maybe another few cents in height."
"Where did you get your size?" This time it was Sevrin's turn to flap his lips. Good, he normally said such awkward things.
"From me, I think." Darya grinned up at her son. She wasn't so much shorter than he was, as simply less like a brick wall. "Although wasn't your grandfather quite large?"
"Yes, he was." Dimitri wiggled his nose. "Excuse me." He set down his bag quickly and rescued his glasses. "Better. Although I think some of it is that Diomid was supposed to be a lot taller than he ended up. My half brothers are pretty good sized too."
"Do you know when Miran is going to establish?" Vayer asked. How could anyone know when a Gen was going to establish. Channels knew, but not Gens, not even Donors.
"Now, now," he tisked at Vayer. "Its a surprise."
"You know and you aren't telling."
"True," a dimple appeared in Dimitri's cheek. "I'm not. Haven't you been telling me not to spoil your surprises?"
Vayer rolled his eyes. "If you weren't so big I'd turn you over my knee and paddle you."
"Not here, papa." Another dimple appeared on the other side. He was having far too much fun twitting his father. "I'm an adult here. Just ask Vanesa."
Vayer growled. "I assume as you aren't saying anything, it isn't going to be at a particularly bad time?"
"I'd let you know." For a moment he looked sixty, not sixteen. "Although it isn't like knowing is going to change anything."
"I'd worry less." Vayer shook his head. "Well, I see you finally remembered we were supposed to leave today." His own method of greeting his father wasn't particularly better than Dimitri's.
"We were?" Arkay rubbed at his own eyes. It looked like he'd just woken up.
"You're naked!" Dimitri yelped.
"What are you doing here?" Nashen blinked rapidly in the bright sunlight. "Or am I slipping in my dotage and imagining you here?"
"I'm really here." Dimitri held out his hands.
"Then get your butt inside and tell us why!" Arkay boomed, scaring a few dozen pigeons loose. He liked doing that to the birds. Vanesa thought it was because he liked to see them fly.
"You, but, you're naked!" Dimitri kept looking up and down through his glasses, as if they were at fault.
"I like it." Arkay gave the tiniest little grin, as if he were Dimitri's age and trying to hide something.
"You aren't going back to Moskva like that, are you?" Dimitri finally closed his eyes. Vanesa could tell he was a hard time dealing with this, although she wasn't entirely sure what had Dimitri so upset. "My own Uncle, father, grandfather, whatever running around naked in front of God and everyone."
"Youngster," Arkay's voice rumbled in his chest. "I can take care of myself. It isn't like I'm going to walk the streets in my underwear." He looked Dimitri over carefully from head to toe. Dimitri blushed furiously, turning bright crimson. With his pale coloring it was shocking to behold. He looked like a beet.
"I have my bracelets on."
"And everyone can plainly zlin them." Nashen too was staring at Dimitri's arms. Vanesa could see nothing wrong with the way either of them were dressed, personally.
"He's going to be staying here, working, with us until Aliana shows up again." She gave Dimitri a gentle squeeze of support. He faded considerably. "I see nothing wrong with the way he's dressed, or you, for that matter, Arkay."
"Here!" He pointed out.
"Yes, here," Vanesa shifted her weight on her feet. "Why don't we all go inside, sit down, and have some tea." It was going to be a long afternoon.
Chapter 1
"You can't stay here all by yourself." Arkay put his arms out along the back of the couch. They looked very strange without the heavy bracelets lining his forearms. Dimitri rubbed at his own, the hair rising in dismay. Mitka's tongue flicked over the inside of his wristbones. It had been far, far too long since his last complete transfer.
"I must." He stated, knowing there was no use arguing by means of facts. "The Veiled sent me. They've already verbally abused my Uncle. I really don't want to invite them back."
"I know it wasn't you." Uncle Sevrin had tucked Vanesa in under his arm as well. Nashen slid in next to Arkay. Dimitri's side was very cold and lonely. He tugged his bag next to him, for a lack of anything better. Vanesa glanced at the gesture and he could sense her concern. He turned away from it before he learned more. "I don't know you, Dimitri, but I do know how hard it can be to go without transfer. Do you really, voluntarily, want to be under ban?"
"Do I have any choice?" Again a hard knot lodged in his throat. Dimitri'd never in his life had a true partner. He could only dream of what it would be like. Perhaps here, where people didn't normally pair up, he'd be able to live with his lack better. "There isn't anyone at home for me."
One of Vanesa's dorsals peeked out, as if to give him sympathy. Dimitri didn't want more sympathy. Not really. He wanted to get on with his life. He knew there was no one for him in Russia. He'd scoured all five Demense for a hint of anyone who could tolerate Mitka.
"I don't want to be put up with." He hissed in Dimitri's ear.
"I know, sweet." He scritched under Mitka's jaw. "But even an impersonal is better than nothing, isn't it?"
"Maybe," Mitka looked away. "She could do it."
"Don't even think it." He stared into those bottomless gold eyes. "She and Sevrin are a pair. A mated, bonded pair."
"Karola was." Mitka managed to get one lens of his glasses with his tongue this time. Dimitri didn't bother to wipe it off. His slobber didn't leave spots behind on glass, thank goodness.
"She offered to help us because she's a wonderful person." Although she hadn't invited them back. Sometimes, when Dimitri was lying awake, late at night, he wondered if she'd forgotten about him. He'd seen her in passing, at city wide events and suchlike, and she'd been kind enough. Dimitri, and Mitka too, longed with all his heart to feel the rush of completely untrammeled selyn again. With Vayer there'd always been a degree of hesitation, even though Mitka enjoyed himself well enough. "Vanesa, I'm sure, is a wonderful person too, but we can't ask."
"We have to sit on our hands and wait?" Mitka whined.
"Yes," he tapped Mitka on the nose, yet again. "We have to be polite or no one will have us again and you know what that means."
"The ban?" He put his head under his wing.
"Yes, for real, until we die." He tugged Mitka's head out so he could look him in the eyes. "So be good."
"I will." Another silver tear tracked down his cheek. How Dimitri hated doing this to Mitka. At least if they'd stayed home Mitka could at least be among friends, not complete strangers. Dimitri wanted to apologize, to whom he wasn't sure.
"Dimitri," Vanesa's soft voice broke through his musings.
"Sorry, I'm very tired." Dimitri reset his glasses on his nose. The bridge ached with the pressure of the heavy lenses. They weren't very thick, but glass was heavy, particularly when he'd had them on for more than a few hours. The flight over would have been too dull if he couldn't see out. Not to mention the disorientation sickness he would have gotten. "It was a long flight."
"Did you manage to sleep at all?" Her voice was gentle with concern, even as Dimitri could see Sevrin's field barring her off from all contact with anyone else.
The question startled a snort out of him. "When?" He shook his head. "Sorry again, I am tired. I haven't slept in three days, Sectuib Kaon."
"What are you doing here then?" Darya jumped to her feet. "You are going to bed!"
"Mama," he took off his glasses and put them away. His growing headache was getting too bad for his weary body to deal with. The blurring of far away objects was so familiar it was almost enough to make him relax. But he had work to do still, and it wasn't as if he could sleep well enough right now anyway. "I haven't had a good transfer since my last one with papa."
"When was the last time you consummated your transfer?" Arkay's question rattled him badly.
Off balance, he blurted out the first thing that came to mind. "I ..." he tried counting months on his fingers and ran out. "Valtanir was too worried about Lexi to do more than give me a kiss. Vayer and I, well, we don't quite manage to. Um, Kirina took a hard strip off me two months ago, almost enough to get me post. Almost."
"So you're saying you haven't consummated a transfer since your fourth!" Arkay's jaw dropped.
"Yeah, I suppose so." He shrugged. "Its not like I have a whole lot of choice."
"You have to find someone better than Vayer." He held out a hand. Dimitri ducked his head, wanting and not wanting to go to him. Mitka could be very difficult about his being close to other Sharm Lords. He didn't want Arkay bitten. Not with so much venom in Mitka's jaws he probably could force selyn on another Gen.
"I'm too high field." Dimitri knew his governors hadn't failed, but they were not healthy, either. "I don't trust Mitka." His heart ached with the separation between them. How he wanted to go curl up against Arkay's flank as he'd done so often as a child.
"I think I can manage." He nodded. "I am Sergei."
Dimitri could think of no way to refuse. Gingerly, he moved over and sat next to Arkay. Mitka stirred, chilling Dimitri to his core. Please, God, he prayed, let Mitka accept him.
"Relax," Arkay breathed, tightening his arm around Dimitri's shoulders. "You have gotten big."
"Happens," he felt his lips twitch upward into a crooked grin. At last Mitka came out from Dimitri's hair and sniffed Arkay's hands. Don't bite, Dimitri prayed with all of his heart.
"You poor thing." Arkay's fingers caressed Mitka's jaws. "I can tell you hurt, even without opening my mind to you. I wish there were something I could do."
"So do I." He looked at Mitka again. Dimitri didn't have to touch them to know how hot and swollen his jaws were. Then he studied them more closely. They were so distended Mitka's scales were no longer lying flat against his skin but were rather standing up on both sides of his face.
"You, my friend, are going to have damaged governors here pretty soon." Arkay's eyes met his.
"I know." He nodded. "But what can I do, papa?" He'd rarely called Arkay by so familiar a name, but right now, right here, he didn't want to be adult. He wanted help in the worst way. "There's no one for me at home."
"And no one here for you either." His eyes were as soft as Dimitri'd ever seen them.
"There are more people here." He had to hold onto this one last strand of hope. Dimitri'd examined literally dozens of Lords, all the Demense held. None of them, other than Karola, and partially, Vayer, could accept Mitka. "Perhaps one of them might be able to."
"I doubt it, Dimitri." Vanesa sighed. "We, the Techton, that is, protects its Donors, not its channels. If you try to go on the rolls, you're going to end up killing anyone they send to you."
"I hadn't planned on going on the rolls." Dimitri's arcane ability to see the consequences of his actions, even when he lacked all data, had made such a move utterly impossible. He knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, Mitka would become as addicted to the kill as any nest leader in the forests to the north of Moskva. "All I want, truthfully, is some quiet."
"At Kaon!" Sevrin snorted. "I don't think so."
"All right, nageric quiet." He winked. "I don't want to be around potential partners who wet their pants if Mitka sneezes. I'd rather be alone." The hard lump came back. His eyes blurred further with unsheddable tears. "Its much harder to be alone in the midst of friends."
"I wish it did not have to be this way." Vayer said simply. "I love thee, son of my heart."
"As I love thee." He'd become used to addressing his father so intimately, although sometimes it did still seem awkward to him. "I'm so alone, papa." He put his head against Arkay's chest.
"I know what you mean, little one." Arkay gathered him in close, as if he could actually cry. "Although I recommend you do something about your production rate before it destroys your governors."
"What?" He didn't mean the question to come out so snappish. Before he could apologize, Arkay gave him a squeeze of reassurance.
"Have you tried harduran?"
Dimitri shuddered. "I'd rather not."
"You have to shut down your production rate." He tipped Dimitri's chin up. "I don't want to find out you managed to commit suicide by killing yourself." The awkward grammar gave Dimitri pause for a moment.
"I thought, well, I'd hoped, being out of temptation would help."
"It will help, but it's no cure." His gaze was steady.
"What did my sire do?" Dimitri didn't want to wade through the maelstrom of grief surrounding Sasha's death. He knew Diomid had done something to keep from overproducing selyn, but didn't dare find out by living those memories again. They were all tinged with blood and sharper than razors.
"He cut himself." Arkay held Dimitri's eyes. "It works, but I don't recommend it."
Dimitri shuddered. He knew the kiss of the knife and the needle. He'd certainly been stabbed, cut, poked and otherwise damaged by many of his patients in an attempt to treat them. Trauma surgery on Simes was often nearly as traumatic to the surgeon as it was to the patient. He looked at his hands, already liberally laced with scars, some no more than nicks, some nearly bone deep.
"I don't know which is worse, youngster." Arkay reached out and got a damp cloth. He put it to Mitka's jaws. Mitka purred, rubbing against the cool wetness. Dimitri tried to swallow the heavy lump in his throat. He didn't want to see Mitka's jaws raw and ulcerated as his governors failed. He had to do something.
"Do you know of anything?" He asked Vanesa.
"No," she shook her head quickly. "The Techton does not believe in 'overproduction' or 'underdraw'." Her crooked grin was aimed at her partner. The love in it made Dimitri glance away. He wasn't even so selfish as to dream he'd one day earn a mate, all he wanted was someone who wasn't repulsed by him.
"I'm not." Vayer's nager was still and silent.
"I do have to admit, it is one time I wish you weren't my father." Dimitri had never known was it was to be with a man, actually. He'd hoped, at one time, Avilan would teach him, but they'd never had the chance. He should have taken it that seclusion with Karola.
"Me too." He winked. "You are far from hard on the eyes."
"Just hard on the laterals." He watched carefully as Arkay tickled Mitka's jaws open. A sharp pain went from Dimitri's wrists to his chest as Mitka bared his fangs. This time the saliva wasn't clear, but bloody and stank of rot.
"I think you should have stayed clear of Vanesa." Dimitri commiserated with Mitka. "Although now we're both in trouble."
"What do you mean?" Vanesa flicked a tentacle at them. A huge wad of selyn and worse things came from Mitka's venom fangs, forced out by the pressure behind them. He choked, having breathed wrong.
"Hold still." He swore as he ran his hand into Mitka's mouth. It was a good thing his fangs didn't cut skin, only selyn. Finally Dimitri found the obstruction, Mitka's own tongue. Mitka collapsed, shuddering, on Arkay's lap. His chest heaved as he fought for breath.
"You aren't doing very well." Sevrin's statement of the obvious would have been funny if he weren't so worried about Mitka. He'd never been truly ill before.
"You recommended harduran?" Dimitri put his hand on Mitka's flank.
"Or very, very small doses of harilin." Arkay's jaw clenched. "They're both about as bad."
"Or Diomid's solution." Dimitri gulped. He knew exactly why Diomid had chosen to cut himself. It wasn't as if Dimitri didn't know the forgetfulness that came with any sensory overload.
"Or Diomid's solution." Arkay shuddered. "It is as destructive and addictive as any drug, Dimitri."
Dimitri stayed silent, stroking Mitka's onyx scales. They'd lost their early luster, having turned dull with time and lack of care. How he wished he could see them glitter and shine again, as he'd managed for Vanesa today. Why did she have to be married? And why did her sister have to have a partner already? "I wish Riana could be tempted into accepting the wrong Dimitri for a night or so." He teased, feeling better as Mitka's breathing returned to normal. His jaws were still locked slightly open, his venom fangs unable to retract.
"I think she could tell the difference." Sevrin was staring at Mitka. That wasn't right! Sevrin was blind. He couldn't possibly see Mitka, could he? "Don't get nosy, little one." He gave the perfect illusion of looking down his nose at Dimitri. "But yes, I can see him perfectly clearly. I'm fascinated, actually."
"Do you have any suggestions, Uncle Sevrin?" He lit up his own, vestigial, nager in a grin. "Or do you actually want the chance to beat the selyn out of me?"
"Dimitri!" Sevrin's field twinkled with dark humor. "Vanesa would be most upset with us if we got blood on the rugs."
"Then we'll have to do it outside, I suppose." A shiver of atavistic fear ran up Dimitri's spine. His first, actual, transfer had been with a true masochist. A Veiled Lord who enjoyed pain the way most enjoyed pleasure. If he'd been able to hold still for Mitka's fangs, they'd probably still be together. Although they had been a very odd couple, not at all compatible in any way other than selyn. Neither he nor Mitka truly enjoyed giving, or receiving, for that much matter, pain at all. "I wouldn't want to repay my host's kindness by bleeding on her floors."
"You are going to have to do something soon, Dimitri." Arkay broke into the banter. "He's failing."
"I know." Dimitri's vision was graying on the edges. Too little sleep, too much stress and far too much selyn in his body were taking their toll. "I'm about to pass out."
"And I don't have to be Sergei to guess you'll lose control over Mitka at that point." Arkay shivered all over. "I don't want to see that."
"It would be bad." Sweat broke out on Dimitri's flanks. He tried to think through the haze in his mind. Which would it be, the knife or the needle? Struggling against the darkness, he called Mitka to him. All he could do was raise his head, jaws locked open with his fangs fully extended. Selyn streamed from the venom ducts, viscous and putrid with rot.
"I'm sorry about this." He said to Vanesa. "It can't wait." Unable to see the future for himself, he opened his bag and prayed. Without looking, his hand wrapped around his surgical kit.
"Can't any of you think of anything else?" Darya's voice came from far away, as if down a long, dark tunnel. "He's dying."
"I'll live." Dimitri found what he was looking for. The heavy hilt of his own 'bread knife' seemed to seek his hand. He pulled it out. In the forty cent long blade he could clearly see Mitka's gold eyes. He knew it was entirely melodramatic to use such a huge blade, but he'd found it deep in his grandfather's chest of tools and had found no peer even in the tools made by Kirov or the South.
"I think I'm going to have to ask you to leave for a few moments." He swallowed heavily, sweat stinging his already burning eyes. "I can't get up."
"I'll stay." Arkay continued to stroke Mitka. There was a rustle of fabric and everyone was gone, all but Arkay. He'd almost hoped Vanesa or Vayer would offer an impersonal, but knew it would do no good. He had to deal with this on his own.
Dimitri pulled off his shirt. He didn't want to cut his arms. Someday, hopefully, he'd manage a Lord again. He took the knife and rested it over his breast. Looking into Arkay's eyes, he drew it downward. Pain like the mother of all demons rose up and crashed though him. It was too much to even be able to scream. Mitka keened, the sound clawing at Dimitri's skull worse than the knife. Then it was done.
Mitka rose from Arkay's lap, eyes blazing. His jaws were still wide open, selyn streaming from them, but now clean and clear over Dimitri's chest. In a heartbeat, the long slash closed and in a second, healed. Dimitri struck again, draining the selyn from his own body on the anvil of pain. This time it was sweeter than mead, drugging his mind with its seductive demand for release. Again he drew the blade down his body.
Fire sheeted through his veins to wreath Mitka in an aurora of fantastic brilliance. His scales gleamed again, as the blood washed them clean.
"Enough," Arkay caught his hand. For a moment, Dimitri fought him, desperate to reach the final release within his grasp. "No, that way is death."
"No!" Mitka wailed, wings hammering at empty air. "NO!" He screamed, as wild as any creature of the world of selyn. "It is mine!"
"He will die, Mitka." Arkay held his hand, now both covered in blood. The wounds had healed almost as fast as he'd made them, but even still they'd been deep and true. Shivering in reaction, Dimitri let Arkay take the knife. "You made a bit of a mess."
"I know." Another violent shudder passed through his body and he cried out, throwing his head back. The pain had transmuted to pleasure, thrilling up his spine and singing in his blood. Heavy lidded, Mitka finally landed, coming to rest on Dimitri's lap. He squirmed, feeling the hot blood soaking his breeches and wetting his now rampant member. His stomach churned, fighting the rest of his body.
"I don't like this." He clenched his jaw against the nausea.
"Lets get you changed." Arkay helped him to his feet. He looked down. Actually he hadn't done too badly, most of the damage was to his own clothes. Unsteady, exhausted, but at least relatively clear headed, he staggered to the bathroom with Arkay's help.
Arkay had to look away as Dimitri stripped off his sodden breeches. "I'll put them to soak in cold water, lad." He took them, trying not to see. He'd only thought Dimitri would take a sixteenth of harilin and be done with it. Not cut himself bone deep with his own autopsy knife! He very carefully cleaned the knife and dried it, then dumped Dimitri's breeches in his sink to soak. It would take countless changes of water if he were to hope to get them clean again. Arkay also put the bottle of jarli syrup he always carried with him in the cabinet. Dimitri'd require it in the morning.
Dimitri staggered as he tried to step into the tub. He caught himself, leaving a bloody handprint on the wall.
"Wash it off, Dimitri." Arkay winced. He'd seen the results of Diomid's cutting himself but it had been nothing like this. Although the speed with which Dimitri'd healed had been nearly as frightening. The three huge slashes were already white lines beneath all the blood. Dimitri turned on the shower and ran it so hot steam came out instantly.
Arkay had managed to change the water in the sink three times before Dimitri moved. The shock as he turned the water to cold made Arkay jump half a meter into the air. Dimitri screeched, obviously just as shocked. "You didn't have to do that."
"I'm not going to masturbate in the shower." He grumbled over the hiss of the water.
"What are you saving it for?" Actually it looked like Dimitri's breeches would survive. They were very finely woven linen, not silk or wool, so they could be bleached easily back to white.
"Mitka," he said at last, turning off the shower. His teeth were chatting he was so cold. Arkay wrapped him in a warmed towel. Dimitri scrubbed at his hair, making it all stand on end. "I do have to say I feel better now."
"I don't want you doing that alone, Dimitri." Arkay thought of how close he'd come to losing the lad tonight, first from underdraw then to his own knife. "You almost murdered yourself."
"I know." His gaze was as clear as anyone could reasonably expect. More, probably. "Thank you for stopping me."
"Who are you going to get to monitor you next time?" Arkay found a bathrobe under the sink. It would be a bit small, but better than nothing. Dimitri belted it around his waist. He was certainly a good looking young man, if a bit on the thin side.
"Hopefully I'll find someone." He shrugged. "It isn't like I can go up to a total stranger and ask them to watch a crazed healer slice themselves open."
"You're more likely to find that than someone for transfer." Arkay grimaced. "I think you're better off with harilin." He held up a hand to ward off the protest. "Even harilin is less likely to leave you dead, Dimitri."
"Only when it comes time to quit." He wiped off the mirror and stared into it. "I suppose I should have shaved a bit better this morning."
"How can you be so calm about all of this?" Arkay was about to fall apart. He wrung out Dimitri's breeches again and ran fresh water. This time the water was only shaded slightly pink. He'd gotten most of it out.
"Mitka gets excited enough for both of us." Dimitri shrugged, seeming entirely nonplussed. "It had to be done. I did it. I'm good at doing the things that have to be done."
"Which is probably why the Veiled sent you here." Arkay wished he could stay.
"No, don't." Dimitri shook his head. "I'd," he took a deep breath. "I wouldn't want to presume on Nashen, and I would."
"Why have you never come to him for an impersonal?" Arkay'd always wondered about this. It wasn't as if Nashen didn't have the strength or speed to deal with Mitka. Nashen had asked him as well, wondering himself.
"Because I can't trust Mitka not to go after a personal transfer, no matter where he is in his cycle." Dimitri turned his face to the other room, where, presumably, Mitka still was. Arkay'd seen this before, where Mitka would stay as the scene of his transfer, or with his transfer partner, sometimes for hours afterward. "I don't want to take the risk of hurting him."
"I think Nashen's old enough to take care of himself."
"I'm not." Dimitri looked in the medicine cabinet and sighed. "Don't tell me. I'm going to have to buy my own razor?"
"You can borrow mine." Arkay trusted both Dimitri and Mitka. If either of them had been at all unethical, they would have demanded an impersonal tonight. It was their right, even if it would have been a tremendous imposition.
"Your razor or your spouse?" He rubbed at his chin one last time.
"Either, both, your pick." Arkay felt unfamiliar little butterflies in his middle. He'd not missed a transfer with Nashen, other than one with Karola, in years. And even that one had been assisted by Vayer's too clever imitation of Nashen.
"I'll take the razor, not your spouse." Dimitri's eyes were too old, as if he'd grown from child to ancient in the short time since his establishment. Had it only been a year and a half ago? It seemed like an eternity and yet only yesterday. Arkay, in truth, was getting old, and knew it far too well. "I love you both, as fathers. There was a reason I stopped going to Vayer." His fingers wrapped around the edge of the sink so hard they turned white.
"Because you want more than selyn?" Arkay put his hand on his son's shoulder.
"Yes," Dimitri dropped his head, as if bowing. "I can't keep going without release, Arkay."
"I know." He wished his knew what to do. "I love thee."
"I love you." In the simple phrase Arkay knew why Dimitri had chosen the knife. Dimitri was still young, wanting to savor his life, not hide from it. He looked up to those older than he was, like Diomid. He knew, as did Arkay, he shouldn't be bedding them.
"Find your heart, Dimitri." He kissed his son's smooth brow. It was cool again, no longer burning up with need fever. "If nothing else, find a friend."
"I'd hoped to." His voice cracked, not with youth, but with emotions coming to the front he'd not felt in too long.
"We'll be waiting for you when you're ready." Arkay reached for Dimitri's knife.
"No," Dimitri shook his head. "I won't cut myself again, but its one of the few things I own."
"My father's?" Arkay asked, thinking he'd seen the unique, replaceable bladed implement once when he'd been much younger.
"Yes," Dimitri snorted. "I can't afford more than a couple pairs of breeches but I have the largest suite of rooms at Sergei."
"You took over his rooms?" Arkay smiled a bit at that. They'd been left empty since his death and Vayer's taking the Demense as regent all those years ago.
"Yes," he closed his eyes. "They seemed alone."
"Good." Arkay squeezed Dimitri's shoulder one last time. "I'm glad you're keeping them company. I'd hoped they'd eventually be reinhabited."
"Besides, I got tired of running up to his closet." Dimitri looked at him out of the corner of his eye.
"I bet you did." Arkay left him in peace for a bit. He had, actually, done a very tidy job of things. Arkay cleaned a couple of spots off the rug and that was it. Curious, he looked into Dimitri's bags. The medical kit was Vanya's old one, updated slightly for the changes the Veiled had allowed in the last few decades, but pretty much the same as he remembered it from his own childhood. The other, however, was completely shielded.
Arkay opened it to find nothing more than a single length of shielding cloth lining the inside and some weights. He'd lied, to all of them. He had the clothes on his back and nothing more. Was he here because he required the cash? Any of them would have given him enough for at least underclothes. Before Dimitri returned, he closed the case, but felt Mitka's eyes on his back before he could hide what he'd done.
"Why?" He asked, wondering if he could get an answer without Dimitri here.
"Don't know." Mitka licked his lips. "Thank you for helping us."
"You're quite welcome. But why won't you let me help you more?" He waved toward the luggage.
"Don't know." This time he trembled, putting his wing over his face. Arkay sat next to him, stroking the fine leather.
"Embarrassed?" He asked, even as he knew it was the answer.
"Maybe," he slowly stretched out his neck, sighing with the gesture. "You have good hands."
"Thank you." He bent down and kissed Mitka's brow, as he'd done Dimitri's. "I love you too, Mitka. Don't be afraid to ask for help when you require it."
"We can make it." The gold had come back to his eyes and they gleamed with renewed vibrance, even if they weren't quite as bright as Arkay remembered from when they'd first met, the month after their only complete transfer.
Chapter 2
Dimitri retied the belt again. Putting things off wouldn't make them any better. He returned to the huge sitting room and sat near the fire this time. The heat felt wonderful on his back, even though it really wasn't cold enough to be necessary. Dimitri ran his fingers through his short hair.
"It sticks up all over the place." Mitka complained, nuzzling his ear. "Cold!"
"I ..." Dimitri didn't know how to explain to Mitka how he felt tainted by what he'd done. As if he'd violated some kind of oath he'd made to himself as a healer. Maybe that was why he'd used his bread knife, not a scalpel or other knife he'd use on a still living person. He looked down at the scars on his hands. "I didn't want it without you."
"Want what?" Mitka licked his lips, long pink tongue flicking out. Dimitri grabbed at it, as he always did. This time Mitka was too slow and he caught it. He laughed as Mitka's eyes crossed, trying to see what Dimitri was doing. "Heth!"
"Want orgasm." Perhaps clinical would work. He let go of Mitka's tongue. "Release."
"Because we couldn't earlier?" The tip of his tail flicked toward the bag where Dimitri'd put away his knife.
"It was the wrong kind of release, Mitka." He put his hands in his lap, trying not to think too much of the life having returned to his deadened limbs. "I love thee with all my heart, but it was not right."
"It felt good." Mitka cocked his head. This was his ultimate measure of value. Felt good, felt bad, he pursued the first as readily as he fled the latter, no matter the consequences.
"Khristov liked pain." Perhaps Dimitri should have said 'likes', but he hadn't seen Khristov in months. Last time he'd been with Padnik and Lachin, being completely spoiled rotten. It had been great for him. He wished Khristov no ill, but he was so very dependant it was frightening.
"But it made us feel better." He stroked his now slender jaws against Dimitri's thigh. He pulled the robe around him closer. "Is there something wrong with feeling better?"
"It hurt." He put his hand to where the front of the robe gaped open.
"But then it felt wonderful. Almost as good as transfer." Mitka's innocence often disturbed Dimitri. "What is wrong with finishing feeling good?"
"Because I didn't want to do it alone." He put his hand over Mitka's head. "I wish I could make you understand."
"I wish I understood too." He rested his chin in Dimitri's lap. "If we can't have a Lord, why can't we have this?"
"Because it isn't right." The burning heat of need was gone, leaving behind a feeling of well being and hope, but it was as empty as Mitka's little feather-filled head. "I don't want to learn to live on pain and blood."
"But you hurt and cut those you heal." Mitka turned his face to the side, better to look up and still have his head in Dimitri's lap. "What's wrong with helping yourself?"
"Because its wrong." He pushed Mitka away. "Don't try to force me, Mitka."
"But I want us to feel good." He resisted, trying to slide under Dimitri's hand. "This is mine as much as selyn." He nudged Dimitri's half-hearted erection, driving him to a sharp, almost painful arousal. "At least make love with me."
"It hurts." Dimitri'd always wondered at the romances talking of someone's heart breaking. It felt as if his heart were being crushed in his chest. "I don't want it."
"Then why did you do it?" Mitka wrapped his tongue around Dimitri's straining. The gesture was so surprising, Dimitri thrust into it. This was nothing like his one time with Karola, or even his own hand. Mitka's tongue was wet, smooth and impossibly flexible.
"Because I had to." He hissed between clenched teeth. "Stop." He pushed Mitka's head away. It didn't do any good, his tongue was too long. It ran between his tightly clenched thighs. He felt like he was being violated by his own nager. "I don't want this."
"I do." Mitka's eyes blazed. "Tell me true, this doesn't feel good, and I'll stop."
"No, it doesn't feel good." Dimitri clenched his teeth. "Stop it Mitka." He pulled Mitka's tongue out from where it had been rooting around.
"But your dick is hard." He whined.
"There's more to it than hormones." He replaced the flap of his robe and cuddled Mitka in his arms. "I'll probably do something about it tomorrow, but right now I want some quiet time."
"Around here?" His tongue flicked out. "You're going to be working all hours of the day and night, leaving me alone again."
"I don't neglect you, Mitka." He pulled a square of silk from the pocket of his shirt lying over the back of the couch. "Come here and let me stroke you."
"You wouldn't let me." He retreated all the way into the fire. "I don't like you right now."
"Because I won't masturbate?" Dimitri couldn't get to him. The orange and red flames licked through Mitka's body. He looked like a salamander out of legend, although with his being a dragon out of legend, this wasn't too far off. He should have never let Mikhail Chernoye, his childhood mentor and friend, tell him all those stories. "I'm not so much an adolescent I have to."
"But why don't you want to do what feels good?" Mitka was curling up in the coals, his body glowing with the heat of the fire.
Often enough explaining things to Mitka was about as useful as explaining them to the fireplace. Dimitri stirred up the fire, hoping at least this would please him. It felt good, the warmth cutting the aches left by the long flight and nowhere near enough sleep. "I love thee."
"Even if you're too stubborn?" Mitka's gold eyes closed as he rested his chin on the coals. It took Dimitri a moment to realize what he'd said. Of course Mitka would never admit to possibly being in the wrong.
"I'm stubborn for our own good." He sat, putting his leg up by the fire. The bones Salkov had broken nearly a year ago now still ached whenever he got too tired or chilled. After long hours on the operating floor, often enough his leg hurt so badly he required help to walk afterward. Dimitri rubbed at the ill healed injury, wishing he had some clove oil, something to warm the aching bones.
He'd never had a lot of money himself, even though he'd grown up at Fatima, the Demense of trade. His parents had never seen fit to give him or any of his sibs cash, but rather gave them clothes, food and attention. Dimitri considered it more than fair, except for times like now.
Giving up on working out the soreness by hand, he limped back into the bathroom. His breeches were clean enough and he pulled them out of the water. They'd have a slight stain until he bleached them, but right now he didn't have any others. Shen, he didn't even have any soap. Arkay and Nashen had already packed, leaving nothing of themselves behind but a stray cup, half a bottle of jarli syrup and a bit of loose hair in the tub.
Defeated by his father's too tidy housekeeping, he hanged his breeches over the shower rail, making sure they wouldn't drip on the tiles and resigned himself to his aches. It wasn't as if he hurt all over, no more than he would from exhaustion, but still he'd hoped.
Where was everyone? Arkay had to know it wouldn't take Dimitri long to be ready for them again. Although he did wish he had another pair of breeches. The robe gave Mitka far too easy access to Dimitri's groin. He knew his nager could be aggressively interested in sex after transfer, but he hadn't expected Mitka to be quite so determined after he'd bled out his own selyn.
Oh well, Dimitri figured, any ease in need had to be better than nothing. He ran his fingers though his hair. At least it was easier to take care of this way. He scrubbed at it with a towel again, making it stand on end like a renSime. Actually he thought it looked pretty good and almost wished he could keep it so short. Maybe here he could until it was time to go home.
He took his time, hoping everyone would be back before it got too late. Dimitri was so tired his vision was blurring with far more than nearsightedness. He rubbed at his eyes. His headache had fled, but even still his eyes ached with strain.
Giving up on his dignity, Dimitri limped back into the other room. He hurt. Still they hadn't returned. Where was everyone? Did they really think he was going to indulge in a one person orgy? Dimitri snorted at himself. Mitka had fallen asleep in the fire, whistling happily to himself. He'd already forgotten about his upset, silly creature.
Dimitri tugged one of the chairs closer to the fire. There was a cool breeze drifting through the room, right over the couch. Probably so Arkay and Sevrin could munch on things that would disgust their partners. He, himself, made sure to eat in the sharm commons at least a few times a month, whether he wanted to or not. If nothing else he had the genes for a nice body and wanted to grow into it properly.
He stretched his legs out in front of him. The thick, twisted knot of scar tissue twined around his shin and calf were significantly whiter than his skin and hair. It had finally healed straight, after long months of being bound to a chair or his bed. He'd hated not being able to walk his rounds through the infirmary, particularly as it had been the first time he'd been able to do so as a recognized Sergei healer.
Gregory, his sire's second, had even gone so far as to help him back and forth to the infirmary every day. Dimitri had saved his son's and lord's life in childbirth, but the generosity had still startled him badly. Dimitri rested his head against the back of the chair, putting his feet up on a low stool, right in front of the fire.
The heat of it baked away the worst of the aches. It would probably always be sensitive to weather changes, or pressure changes of any kind. Right now it was bitching and moaning still about the lowered pressure on the airplane. Dimitri closed his eyes, melting under the influence of being clean, both physically and nagerically, as well as the warm fire. It popped suddenly and he turned his back to the fire. The huge chair was nearly big enough to sleep in.
But he wasn't going to sleep. Dimitri pried his eyelids open. Mitka'd tucked his nose firmly under one wing and was snoring. He looked very comfortable. There was a heavy wool throw on the back of the chair. He leaned forward and tugged it out.
Dimitri grinned as he recognized Arkay's fine handwork. He shook the folds from the cover and drew it up to his chin. It was big enough to cover him down to his feet. The black soaked up the heat of the fire magnificently. Mitka trilled in his sleep and uncurled. He wiggled his back deeper into the coals of the fire, at last ending up on his back with his feet pointed straight up in the air. Dimitri chuckled softly at the abandon with which Mitka did everything, including sleep.
Mitka's mouth fell open and his tongue lolled out. He looked like a complete and utter slut. If he hadn't been in the middle of a blazing fire, Dimitri would have rubbed his belly, just to share in his pleasures.
The cover had gotten trapped beneath his seat again and he rolled part way over to release it. It was too much trouble to roll back over. Dimitri yawned and made a place for his head on the arm of the chair. The heavy blanket was so very soft and warm.
Dimitri let his eyes rest, just for a moment. The steady sounds of the fire and Mitka's snoring would keep him awake. He put his hand under his cheek and sighed. It was too quiet and peaceful here to stay up. He'd just nap a bit until everyone got back.
"Took him long enough." Vanesa chuckled softly, looking in on the young man. "I think its time to go shopping, don't you?"
"Shopping?" Arkay blinked at her. "We just went shopping last week."
"For him." She pointed to the sleeping young man. He looked so beautiful curled up in the big chair with his face resting on his folded hands. Vanesa wanted to go in and tuck the blanket up around his chin, but knew any movement in the room would disturb him. "He requires work clothes and toiletries. You'd said he had nothing."
"But he won't take it." Arkay shook his head. "Trust me, Vanesa."
"Then I'll make him take it, Arkay." She braced her field. "He's going to be representing Kaon, if nothing else. I won't have him go out in rags."
"His clothes are fine." Arkay shook his head. Sevrin put his hand to her face, asking what she was thinking. She didn't bother to hide the way her lips tightened. "He'll be hurt if you stick your tentacles into his business."
"His breeches won't be fit to wear tomorrow, from what you've said." She thought about what she already had in various closets. "No, he's even bigger than Sevrin."
"Across the shoulders, and smaller in the waist." He shrugged. "Danyel has my clothes tailored for me, so there isn't a whole lot of room to let out seams."
"And besides, he's going to want to be in white, not gray." Arkay flicked one of his braids to his back. Vanesa had been shocked at Dimitri's hair, as short as Tzer's when he'd first visited. But it looked a lot better on Dimitri, like a proud rooster's comb. "He'll manage."
"Yes, and I'm going to help." She headed for the door, Sevrin in tow.
"Its almost nine at night, Vanesa." He didn't slow her down. They'd been together long enough he knew when to get out of her way.
"I own half the town, Sevrin." She grabbed her phone and bag. "Just watch me."
"Oh, I always do, love." He held the door for her. It was so backwards she almost cracked heads with him reaching for it herself. "See, I'm learning western manners."
"No, you're being difficult again." She pulled out her keys. "Anyone else coming with?" Vanesa had learned to stare down Russians; have a nice solid door in the way. Arkay glanced from her to the room where Dimitri lay sleeping.
"I'll stay." Vayer's nager was entirely focused on his son. Now Vanesa could see the shock in finding him here, in such poor condition. It wasn't as if it had been that long ago he'd seen the young man, but even in such a short time, they could change so much. Look at Viasha and Sivaya. Both little girls seemed to change overnight, not to mention Kolya. He was already running around and getting his grubby little fingers into everything.
Once again she gave her thanks for the fact Sevrin took the first's part in raising their children. Much as she loved them, she didn't have time for all the day to day chores. She might still be nursing Kolya a couple times a day, but other than that and in the evenings, she didn't see him all day.
"Where is Danyel?" Usually he was hanging around whenever anything went at all off. As if he could zlin trouble as well as nagers.
"Right here," he slicked back his thick black hair. It was as wet as if he'd just gotten out of the shower. She blinked, wondering how he'd known to come, yet again. He shrugged, adjusting the dagger he always wore at the small of his back. Danyel Ferris was an odd creature, as fey as any of the Rus or any gypsy, but entirely loyal, to himself if no one else.
"You do me wrong, my lady." He bowed low, sweeping an imaginary hat along his outstretched leg.
"And who have you been talking to now?" She repressed another grin. Vanesa could never stay upset with Danyel for more than moments at a time.
"This wondrous musician you've taken to spouse." His black eyes twinkled with the good humor in his field. Vanesa never could tell where he was in his need cycle. He might be a second, but he was Ferris. He smoothed out his faded black shirt, now a soft charcoal gray. "Although I'd like to see what it is that dragged me out of my bed."
"It isn't that late." She blinked at him.
"I was entertaining a friend." He put one tentacle to his lips. As silently as a cat, he walked past her and looked in on Dimitri. "He's going to get cold like that."
Chapter 3
As careful as he'd ever been, Danyel Ferris wrapped his nager around him and snuck into the room. There was something wrong with the fire. He turned to see a large black something snoring lustily in the middle of it. It looked like a dragon!
Fascinated, he stepped over the trick board and took a closer zlin. The heat of the fire was tremendous, but the beastie was sleeping in the heart of it as if in his own nest. Bright black scales shimmered in the rich reds and golds of the fire. Although the fact it had its feet stuck in the air and mouth open did not add any elegance to the beast's repose.
He snorted silently to himself. No, he was not imagining things. Even his imagination wasn't so good. He'd learned to be very wary of the new friends Sectuib had been bringing home. He was quick enough to get out of the way, but many of them threw around their nagers as if they were flags in the wind.
Danyel turned back to the lad curled up in the chair. His cheeks were thin, as if he'd never had enough to eat, were still growing, or both. Danyel knew what it was to be alone, exiled from his own kind. Sure enough he had little use for the misbegotten bastard who'd sired him on his mother and then left her to die of the experience, not that she had in the end, but he was Ferris, no matter what side of the sheets he'd been conceived on, if it hadn't been a damp alleyway.
The blanket slithered off the young man. Danyel caught it before it hit the floor. The robe too, had fallen open, exposing a body most Gens would kill for. Not to mention a few Simes. Although he didn't zlin right. Danyel could clearly zlin a growing, healthy field, moderately post transfer, but it was a mirage of a normal Donor's field, as if it were an illusion, like the beastie in the hearth.
Danyel turned back to the dragon. Zlinning closely, careful not to actually touch the bright scales but merely catch the outward reflections, it felt like a Donor only a few months after establishment. But the young man was certainly older than a few months.
He had to be cautious not to touch the lad when he covered him up again. Danyel wondered if his skin really were as soft and silky as it seemed to be. The very faintness of his nager was as intriguing as its lightning fast, quicksilver reactivity. Even in his sleep, his field danced around him with shimmering glee.
None of the others had been anything other than terrifying. Their fields so strong it was all Danyel could do to work with them. But this one's was so faint it felt good twining with his own. It didn't have the richness to actually affect him at all.
The young man fussed, putting out a leg that was badly scarred, as if he'd had it broken, badly set, and then reset repeatedly. There was nothing any channel could possibly do but possibly ease the fierce ache it must give him. Danyel know it would not help if he caught a chill. He pulled another, lighter throw off the back of the couch and this one he draped over the legs which kept escaping from the first.
A pleased ghost of a tendril of nager twined around his hand with what almost seemed to be curiosity and even acquisitiveness. Stunned, Danyel let it. He'd zlinned Darya's nager and almost wet his pants. This youngster, come to think of it, had some of her look to him. Danyel zlinned the dragon again. It was now curled up, wings spread through the fire. So it wasn't real?
He dropped hypoconcious. Only the very faintest echo of the creature remained behind, as if Danyel'd been looking at the sun and had gotten spots in front of his eyes. For a moment, Danyel wondered what one fed a dragon. Other than fair maidens, of course. And he was certainly neither.
"I'll be back." He slipped out the back way, through a set of narrow stairs and fetched a bottle of pennyroyal, lavender and clove oil he'd had made for his own aching joints. They weren't usually a problem, except right before transfer. Danyel set the bottle of oil near enough the fire to warm it, but where the young man would see it when he woke.
"Better," he thought of too many things he could never have. Such as this young Donor. With an outre field like his, and not on the rolls, he'd never get on them. Danyel only survived because he was Ferris and so was regularly mistaken for someone who mattered in the scheme of things.
He snicked the door shut, incidentally pocketing the key.
"Give," Vayer held out his hand. Danyel tried to decide if it would be more useful to duck behind Sevrin or Arkay. He'd tried once with Darya and that field of hers had nearly squashed him like a bug. He didn't like being treated like a bug.
Danyel decided Arkay would be the better bet, but even so, he checked on his knife again. For some reason it reassured him around these people. A hunk of sharp metal would do nothing against a nager, but it was a talisman for luck. He required it around here now.
"I think you should give the key to his father." Arkay didn't move, however.
"Who is he?" Danyel held onto the key.
"My son." Vayer still had his hand out. "I know how to deal with Mitka."
"Is that his name?" Danyel rather liked the sound of that. It tripped off the tongue easily.
"His name is Dimitri. His nager responds to Mitka, which is a shortened form of Dimitri." Darya's field was trying to get past Arkay's. Danyel sucked in his nager as hard as he could. Arkay was a lot of Donor, but that field was dangerous. "Although Diomid is his sire."
"The healer?" Danyel had learned this much about the heavy, short, Russian the last time he'd been here. He liked Diomid, actually, even though his field was even more aggressive in some ways than Darya's. He couldn't get away from Diomid's at all, as it kept trying to overwhelm his.
"Dimitri's a surgeon, actually, by primary training." Vayer's nager gleamed. He was bragging. It was so cute. Danyel wished he'd brought Shanir out with them, even though he knew Shanir was with Mikal and Tzer. He liked the lad and the girls were getting to be a bit much. He wanted an older boy around too. Oh, well, soon enough little Kolya would be getting himself into scrapes with the others.
"Better him than me, I say." Danyel shuddered. The idea of cutting flesh, any flesh, made his tentacles lock in their sheathes. Yes, certainly, there were a lot of things modern medicine could help channels cure, but he didn't want anyone coming after him with a knife. That's why he had one of his own.
"Most likely, yes." Arkay put his hand back to Danyel. "I don't know if I like leaving him, with the fire, asleep and no one able to get to him."
"He's safe." Danyel clutched the key. It was as if it were the key to the young man's heart, not just the room. He wanted to be sure Dimitri would be there when they got back. "We won't be gone long."
Arkay turned now. His eyes twinkling with some hidden mirth. Even Danyel couldn't read any of the Russian firsts when they set their minds to it. In that one way they were far stronger than even Vanesa. "Are you interested in the lad?"
"Of course not." He said quickly, wanting to back away from those knowing eyes. There was a scuff on the toe of one of his new shoes and he wished he could rub it away. Why hadn't he put on a better outfit? The silk shirt and lined wool pants, for example. He'd put up with a lot of itching to look good. Danyel ran his tentacles through his hair again, straightening it.
"Then why are you preening?" Silvery, tickling, tendrils of mirth distracted him.
"I'm not." He took the gold chain he always wore from around his neck and threaded the key onto it. "There, its safe now." Danyel put the necklace back on. Arkay's lips were twitching frantically, as if he were fighting not to laugh. From his nager, it was useless to try to hide it. Although it seemed no one else noticed. "I'm just tidying up before we go out."
"Yes, Danyel," Vanesa too was highly amused. "I think they'll be just fine until we get back, Vayer."
"Then I suppose we might as well go with you."
"I still want to stay." Darya tipped a tentacle into the works. "There are some things I want to pull out of my bags and leave behind now."
"He can't wear any of your kadors." Vayer looked her up and down. Danyel agreed with him. Certainly Darya was a large Gen, one of the largest he'd ever seen in his life, but her shoulders were nowhere near as broad as Dimitri's. Just thinking about it again brought his head around. Arkay's nageric laughter rang on his wrists. Danyel couldn't believe no one else could zlin it.
"I wonder if he really wants to wear one." Personally, Danyel thought he looked quite fine in the bathrobe, even if it had been falling off him, in all directions. For a moment he wondered just what he would look like dressed in nice clothes and shook it out of his head. The image that came to mind was not him dressed at all. Arkay's nager smirked. That was the only word Danyel could come up with for it.
"Keep the key, Danyel." His whole field was twinkling with great glee.
Arkay fought his giggles. Normally he didn't care, but Danyel's reaction to Dimitri could be described as excessive at best. A burble of laughter escaped.
"What is it?" Nashen ran a tentacle along the inside of his elbow. Needless to say, this completely destroyed his resistance.
"Look at him." Arkay tipped his head, even as he flipped through the awful garments. They were all flimsy, ill-made things, from machines. He could do better than this. Already the stitching was coming out on some of the hems.
"Who?" Nashen grabbed a package of undershorts. Arkay looked at them. They had little hearts on them. Little hearts and fish. He snorted. "You don't think he'll like these?"
"I think he doesn't wear any." Arkay put them back. "I never have. And Danyel, of course." He examined a plain, white dress shirt. You could nearly see through the thing. But then that might be the point. Jarmin would wear shirts like this. "Did you ever ask where Aliana found Jarmin's clothes?"
Nashen smirked. "She found a tailor in Angels who would design to her hand."
"Oh," Arkay then realized the shirt was way too small. He remembered Dimitri as a lad, not the grown and growing man he was now.
"What's so funny about Danyel?" Right now the man was flipping through the racks of garments like a frantic ferret. Arkay whistled an old courting song, one about a desperate Lord and a Sharm Lord playing hard to catch. The only thing unusual about it was the fact the Sharm Lord was the one who was after the Lord. "Oh." Now Nashen chuckled.
"Do you really think he's interested?" Nashen slipped in a nuzzle of Arkay's ear.
"Did you see where he put the key?" Arkay felt another smirk sneak up on him. He flicked a finger to Danyel's chest.
"Right over his vriamic?" Now Nashen's chuckles reached his ear. "Oh my. In one meeting?"
"I wonder if he got a chance to zlin Mitka." Arkay's mind went through all the possibilities. Many of them he didn't want to.
"None of these are acceptable." Danyel growled, again flicking through the premade clothes. "What am I going to do?"
"Danyel," Arkay kept his field as calm as he could. For the first time in his life one of the Westerners struck out at him. He was so startled all he could do was grunt at the sting of it. He could hit hard when he wanted to, like the knife he wore at his back.
"Oh, I'm so sorry." He put his hand up and touched the key beneath his shirt. "I didn't mean it."
"I know you didn't." He cupped his field around the distraught young man. Almost everyone was young to him now. Danyel was acting particularly young at the moment, all hair and tentacles. Those black eyes shone with the glitter of a Sime on the hunt. It was too cute for words. "Where do you usually shop?"
"Oh, here and there." He shrugged, his nager going back to its usual facade of impenetrable lights. "Well, not here." He gave a glare worth of any sharm lord matron. "Was this the only place open?"
"I said as much." Vanesa was leaning against another clothes rack. This one of fuzzy lined shirts with idiotic sayings painted on them. Things like, "Out with tentacles. They'll know what they're missing." and "Has anyone seen my Donor today? She's the one with the silly grin." They were in even worse taste than most. "Lets get him something to get by until tomorrow and then we'll really go shopping."
"No," Danyel's nostrils flared. "I know of some shops which are open."
"Where, in Norleans?"
"Yes," he headed for the door.
"Its too far!" Vayer protested.
"Not if we let Iter drive again." Danyel flicked a bit of lint off his shirt.
"Oh my God." Vanesa closed her eyes. She'd gotten more from Sevrin than a baby. Arkay'd never heard her swear by any deity. He grinned behind his hand, not letting it show on his nager. Danyel zipped out the door. Nashen held it for the rest of them.
"Where'r we goin." The tires screeched as Iter threw the van into a curve. A car honked as they slipped though a tiny gap in the traffic and zoomed down the road. Arkay winced as headlights came straight in the front window. Iter was safe. He had never killed. But he was insane.
"Fourteenth and Wye, Norleans." Danyel leaned on the front seat.
"Whoa," Iter dove into another hole with the quickness of a tentacle into a sheath. "Don't mean to take Sectuib and folks down there, now do ye?"
"We have to find some clothes." His nager was as slick as ice.
"I hope they'r fer a Gen."
"Oh yes, definitely Gen." Danyel leaned back, a little smile crossing his expressive lips. Arkay ducked as a car roared by going the other direction, cents from the side of the van. "Very much so."
They made the trip in record time. Record time for anyone but Iter. Arkay was not looking forward to the trip back. "I'm glad we left Darya behind." He worried about leaving Dimitri in a locked room, with no note, nothing on why he was locked up like a renGen. At least he could talk to Darya through the door. And Arkay would not be at all surprised to find out Darya could pick locks. Most Gens who'd spent any time under lock and key could, and she'd been locked in the Kirov sharm for years. He wasn't going to tell Danyel this.
Bright lights and louder noises assaulted Arkay's senses as Danyel tugged the door open. He leaned back, stunned at the sheer volume of people. This was like the red square before Kirov, but in the middle of the night!
"Gen quarters," Danyel pointed to a green flag over a huge stone building. "Used to be the old government Pens."
"I'd think they wouldn't want to be reminded." Arkay tried to swallow the knot of nervousness at the base of his throat. He didn't have his bracelets on. His hands clutched at his naked forearms. What if someone accosted him? He'd kill in such a charged ambient without a thought if someone grabbed him. "Is it safe?"
"Safer than Iter here." Danyel winked at their driver. He'd already pulled out a newspaper and was reading it. From here Arkay could see the headlines, "Child born with tentacles!" and "Ancients in our midst!" Arkay was not at all sure of how safe this really was.
Arkay was fascinated by the first store they walked by. He had to stop. He tugged on Nashen's field. "Look at that!" Through the open door, he could easily smell the unique scent of well tanned leather.
"Oh?" Nashen's eyes were as bright as his field. Arkay glanced over at the van. It wasn't going anywhere.
"What can I do for you ... Sosu?" The renGen blinked at him a few times, glancing down at Nashen's wrists quickly.
"I'm looking for a gift for my," Arkay had to think about it for a moment. These were not items for a child. "Someone like me, but younger." He glanced down at the dozens of types of condoms in the glass case. They were a good idea. He knew Dimitri would not always be celibate. But he'd probably be embarrassed as hell if Arkay gave him any.
"A close friend?" Her eyes twinkled with mirth.
"Yes," he smiled, taking in the various toys on the wall behind her. "Could I see those bands?"
They were exactly what they looked like, very soft rope wrapped in even softer leather. Exactly the diameter of a healthy Sime's tentacles, they were long enough to wrap around the wrists and then buckle securely to themselves. Nashen's field was bright pink.
"Are you really thinking of getting those?" One of his own tentacles came out to brush the material. "They do feel like mine."
"Yes, I think on both accounts." Arkay was amused. Once he got over his embarrassment, Dimitri would love them. They even had safety catches so they could be removed quickly, one advantage over the real thing. "Although I'd like to look around more."
"Go right ahead. If you have any questions, let me know." She looked him up and down again. "If you're looking for garments, we have some in back as well. You might also want to look through our collection of body jewelry."
Arkay glanced at the thin silk underwear on the rack. No, it wasn't at all suitable for outdoor wear, being so fine you could zlin through it, but it would look stunning on Dimitri.
"You would zlin stunning in this." Nashen purred, his hand behind one of the shirts. It was the crimson red of Kirov. Arkay hadn't worn Kirov red since he'd left with Avilan and Karola. He usually preferred either sapphire blue or occasionally, emerald green. Arkay held it up to his face and looked in the mirror.
"You would look wonderful in that, Sosu." The woman came out from behind the counter. There was a rolling to her walk, as if she were displaying her wares to every Sime in the universe. Even Nashen zlinned, one eyebrow raising at her forwardness. But it wasn't specific, so Arkay didn't say a word. The color had always looked good on him, with the red bringing out the last strands of gold in his hair. "Would you like to try it on?"
Nashen's field glittered with interest, and amusement. "Go on. I want to zlin you in it."
"I'm a little old for such things." Arkay sucked in his middle. He'd gotten a bit broad over the past years, no longer as slender as a youth.
"You look wonderful, my Alahin." He murmured in Arabic. "There is now more of you to love and I no longer worry about bruising my lips." Nashen left where unsaid, but not unzlinned. Arkay'd always preferred riding on airplanes between transfer and turnover. The hot look did not improve the fit of his trousers any.
"You win, my Alamir, as always." He replied in the same language and blew his love a kiss. The shirt fit wonderfully, but then it was cut a bit loose. Arkay left the top buttons undone, allowing a triangle of chest to show. Against the blood red cloth, he nearly glowed, both with a bit of post reaction and the feel of the soft material against his bare skin. "I like it already." Nashen said, even before he came out.
"Zlinning me dressing?" He laughed, holding out his arms. It didn't have the ribbons to lace around the back of his hands, but it did leave his arms free all the way to the tops of his shoulders. Nashen leaned over and placed a kiss on the muscle.
"Of course," he touched his tongue to his lips.
"You are such a flirt." Arkay turned around, looking back over his shoulder.
"And you aren't?" Nashen flicked a tentacle at him. "I think one for Dimitri too. I like the style."
"So do I, actually." It felt odd to have his arms so bare, but good as well. "He's about," Arkay had convert kilos to pounds and paused.
"Bigger than you are?" The woman blinked a few times.
"Yes, and will be considerably bigger than I am when he's done growing." Arkay nodded. She was looking him over carefully. Arkay didn't exactly sag over his belt, but he did bulge a bit. Particularly in the snug fitting breeches Nashen liked him to wear.
"I do have a friend who does custom work." She flicked through the garments. "This should fit." It looked huge. Although Arkay knew they one he was wearing was large. But yes, Dimitri would require it before too much longer.
"Part of why I'm shopping for him is he's broke." Arkay grimaced. "So I'm going to have to surprise him a bit."
"Ah," she grinned. "Although do you really want to be shopping for your nephew here?"
"He's a very nice young man." Arkay grinned. "And I do intend on having grand nephews eventually."
"He's not likely to get one for you here." She wrapped the shirt in fine paper and then put it in a paper box! How strange.
"No, but he's likely attract more than another Gen in a shirt like this." Arkay ran his hand over his hair.
"Most Simes don't want such, um, provocation." She wrote up the bill. It wasn't as bad as Arkay'd feared it would be. "Is that all?"
"No," Nashen was looking at the other toys on the wall. Some of them were enough to shame a whore! Arkay wondered what was behind the desk, if anything. He leaned over.
"Excuse me?" The woman addressed the top of his head. Arkay could tell there was a false back to one of the cabinets.
"What's in there?" He pointed.
Her eyes flicked to Nashen. Her eyebrows raised together. "As you wish." She pulled out a large box. On the top shelf were a tangled mass of restraints, for a Sime's wrists. Arkay whistled as he sorted through them.
"Hold out your arm." He told Nashen. They'd been together long enough he did it without question, still staring at the silicon and latex toys. Arkay wondered for a moment if Nashen were thinking of getting any for them. Personally he preferred the real thing, but he wasn't going to quibble.
Thinking of Danyel's wrists, he searched though the pile until he found a pair that were shorter and a bit narrower around than Nashen's. "Do you think these will fit?"
"Not mine." Nashen's field said the ones next to them would.
"Oh, I'll just strap you into your bracers if I want you restrained." He put the restraints into the growing pile.
Nashen had been optimistic. "Although I don't think either of them are up for that!" He pointed at the hand shaped thing with tentacles twined between the fingers. "Even Karola would have a hard time with it." He muttered under his breath.
"What about me?" Nashen batted his eyelashes, hopefully at Arkay.
"Its not going anywhere but in the bathroom, as a conversation piece." Arkay's voice went up an octave. He wasn't letting that thing anywhere near him after transfer.
"But my hands are so small." He pouted. The effect would have been much better without the giggles bubbling through his field, like bouncing will 'o wisps.
Arkay studied the various dildoes, plugs and odd shaped pieces of silicon and latex. Beneath them was a line of little clamps hanging from hooks. Some of them had some very interesting little teeth in the jaws. He picked out a conservative little dildo in black silicon and a set of steel tentacle clamps.
"And you think those are getting near my arms!" Nashen's field gave lie to his words, trembling around his arms with frantic interest.
"Perhaps," he split the loot into theirs and Dimitri's. So far the evening had been a success. Arkay wondered what the others had found. He doubted if they'd had more fun.
"Thank you for visiting Any Time." The woman packed up their things. "Your nephew is very lucky to have you for an Uncle."
"He's had little enough luck so far." Arkay took Nashen's hand. His lover's tentacles bound them together.
"Maybe the shirt will help." She winked, returning to the book she'd stashed under the counter.
"I hope so." Arkay muttered, letting Nashen lead them back onto the street. The cool air bit at his now bare shoulders and sent a chill down his back. Nashen flipped the edge of his cloak over him, warming him with both his nearness and the heavy wool.
Chapter 4
"Pervert!" A scrawny renSime spat at Danyel's feet. He pulled his white and black cloak away quickly. The renSime took another pull off the bottle wrapped in an anonymous brown bag. The stink of cheap whiskey was worse than his unwashed body. "Comin down here like ye still owned the place."
Vanesa looked down her nose at the creature. Danyel was trying not to get pummeled by his drunken anger. "This is no place for you."
"All them Gens runnin round 's if they were good 's people." He belched threateningly. Danyel flicked his field at the renSime. Beneath the last week's stubble the renSime's cheeks turned pasty green. He danced back out of the way before the renSime vomited all over the street and then collapsed into it.
"You didn't have to do that." Sevrin murmured in his ear.
"I wanted to." Danyel knew his field was probably giving away his disgust to everyone around them. "Filthy swine." He stepped into a clothier he'd often visited just to see what she'd made this month. "Shouldn't come down to the Pens if he couldn't be dealing with Gens."
"I do approve, however." He said, even more quietly. His own field was the same firestorm of wild threat it had always been, but a shade softer, less dangerous to Danyel personally. "I didn't know you would defend even yourself."
"I'm not a very good channel." Danyel looked at the models Karin had put up on the wall. He thought he'd remembered her regular work correctly. All the dressmaker's models she used were either big, buxom women like Darya or massive young men, like Dimitri. He could well understand why. Danyel'd always been rather fascinated by well built Gens. He supposed others would be as well. "Good evening, Karin. What are you doing here?"
"Working, you idiot." She tossed her black hair out of her eyes. "What are you doing here, on a Saturday night, no less?" Her dark eyes twinkled. If she'd had any more of a field, she'd be working as a Donor, not designing clothes. Not that Danyel cared. He liked coming down to the Gen quarter in Norleans.
"Have a young man with no more clothes to him than a robe." He winked.
"And you want him dressed?" Her hair fell across one eye again. Karin never cut it, even when it got so long she couldn't see. Said she didn't have to, her hands knew what to do with the fabric. From her work it was true.
"If I'm goin te show him off." Danyel leaned on the counter. All of the Rus were peacocks, some more than others. If Sevrin had trusted him, he'd have truly enjoyed the way he'd been getting the chance to dress him. As it was, Danyel never quite knew if Sevrin liked anything he did.
"I do." His deep voice rumbled in his chest.
"I also wish you wouldn't answer things I don't say." Danyel pushed himself back upright and looked at one of Karin's dummies. It had no features, but the rest of the mannequin was entirely too lifelike. Right down to the tiny clefts between the muscles in the forearms and the optimistic basket.
The particular shirt this one was wearing had ribbon sleeves, like so many Arkay wore. Sevrin wouldn't be zlinned in something so outre. He'd asked. It was a deep jewel toned blue, with only the slightest hint of silver sheen. Conservative for Karin. The pants were actually tights, Danyel noted with a blink. Tights and a codpiece. No one wore anything like that except in the occasional fantasy drama. If anyone would look good in them, Dimitri would. Even Sevrin would look a bit silly, being finer built. Dimitri was heavy enough he'd never look silly.
Danyel looked at a few of the other outfits. They were all spectacular, but he expected nothing less from Karin.
"Who are you shopping for?" Her nager twinkled in a bright grin. Danyel'd always looked in Karin's shop, but had never had anyone to buy for. Arkay was too heavy for any of her outfits, although he got the feeling he'd wear them. Maybe he'd bring Arkay in here next winter, with Nashen along to provide commentary. They were both very easy to shop for. Although Nashen could wear a few of the shirts, if Danyel made some alterations.
Finally he zlinned a beautiful shirt in black silk, with long dagged sleeves and a silver vee embroidered on the front and back. If the Gen had the shoulders to wear it, the thing would be a blatant display of his shoulders and waist. No one except Dimitri would have enough shoulders to pull it off and not look like a flaming idiot. He'd look fantastic.
"How much do I have to work with?" Danyel would have been more than willing to buy both the blue and black shirts if he'd had the cash. He didn't. He didn't even have that much credit.
"You haven't even asked about the price." Vanesa flicked a tentacle at him. There were no tags on anything.
"Expensive." He said simply, running his hand over the silver defining the cuff of the shirt which went from the inside of the elbow all the way to the floor. It did expose the forearms. More than expose them, it framed them in black and silver, just as the silver on the front cradled the center point of the chest, where all selyn came from.
"You're going to dress Dimitri in that?" Arkay had finally caught up with them, it seemed.
"Why not?" He winked, letting the sleeve fall back. "He'd look gorgeous."
"Not for every day." Nashen's field was bound so tightly to his body Danyel couldn't zlin him if he wanted to.
"No," Danyel admitted, sighing. It was a thought. He'd have loved to see Dimitri in such fine things. Unable to keep his disappointment from his nager, he turned away from the beautiful clothes.
"I'd like to see him in them." Vayer walked up to the dummy wearing the blue shirt and charcoal gray tights. "Although I think we're also going to have to find some more, well, business like clothes as well."
"I can pay for those." Really Danyel'd just wanted to find out if Karin's wares were as gorgeous as he'd remembered. They were, and more. Only Gens who spent half their lives in the gym could manage bodies to fill out her garments. But then a number of donors did have just such large blocks of time. "I think we might be able to find something at Techton Gen."
"We'll take them. The blue and the black, both." Vayer said suddenly, brushing his fingers over the ribbons, making the silver lining glitter in the lights. "I can't buy him a channel, but I can buy him clothes." His nager had faded to a dull gray, Danyel'd rarely heard anything quite so sad.
"I just hope he doesn't get stubborn on you." Arkay's ever mobile field danced in place.
"I'm still his father." Vayer blinked at the zipper hidden down the back of the black shirt. Danyel hadn't even zlinned it it'd been so well hidden.
"You're buying such clothes for your son?" Karin's hands froze hanging the blue shirt on a padded hanger. Danyel knew they'd have to be very careful not to tangle the ribbons on the way home. He'd hang it in the back to make sure nothing happened to it.
Vayer shrugged, his smile peeking through his short beard. He stroked the fabric of the black shirt hanging over his arm. It looked like black onyx, but Danyel knew it was as soft as water beneath the tentacles. "Although I think I want to look around a moment." He studied an outfit in rich oranges and browns draped over a female figure.
"I think this might better suit." Danyel pointed out an outrageous dress in golden silk. It was deceptively simple, a sheath with long dagged sleeves like the black shirt. Vayer blinked at him. "Zlin it." He did so, his mouth watering at the watery shimmer caused by the featherweight fabric moving slightly in the air currents of the store. On a living person, it would always be moving, making their nager shimmer like sunlight on water. On Darya, her black nager would gleam like the night sky.
"I zlin." He touched the side. With even so light a brush the side slits opened up, displaying the fact that anyone wearing it had better not be wearing any underwear, as it would be painfully obvious. "Ins'Allah." He breathed, looking at the top.
"Its reinforced, Hajene." Karin unzipped the back, showing the built in bra. Danyel would have never thought of such a thing. "And if your Companion does not have the, um, equipment to fill it out, we do have assistance."
"Not necessary," he smiled. So did Danyel. Darya required no help filling out the top of her dresses.
"It also snaps at the crotch so she won't flash everyone in the vicinity." Danyel added under his breath to Vayer.
"She's not going to be wearing it in public." Vayer growled, just as quietly. "But I want it."
Danyel chuckled. "I'd like to see her in it. I promise not to touch."
"I know you wouldn't." An impish smile lit his entire face. "We may even take everyone out to dinner tomorrow."
"What?" Vanesa came off the counter with a jump, startling everyone but Danyel. He'd zlinned it coming. As he always did. It was the only way he'd survived around these people.
"We're not going to get Dimitri set up here overnight, Vanesa." He sighed. "It is going to take at least a week."
"Why didn't you say anything earlier?"
"Because I didn't know he was in such bad shape." His tentacles lashed out. "He has to have some help."
"Sevrin and I can help him."
"You don't have the time, Sectuib." Danyel reminded her. They had to run the first quarter books on Monday and have everything correlated by Wednesday. It was easier with Sevrin available to enter the data onto the computer, but it still took time. "If he has nothing, and is as young as I think he is, its going to take more than an evening to get him the things he requires."
"He can borrow from Sevrin."
"He can what?" Sevrin stopped leaning against the counter. "I'm sorry, but I'm not loaning anyone my underclothes."
"They're only shirts and pants."
"They're underclothes, even if I do wear them outside here." His silken voice carried as much threat as his nager. Danyel hid behind one of the mannequins, even if it didn't do any good. "He's not borrowing them."
"Besides, Sevrin's shoulders aren't as broad."
Everyone but Karin glared at him. "These really are for someone who can wear them without fitting?" She glanced at the dummy Danyel was cowering behind. "Can he come in sometime?"
"Yes," Danyel zlinned off one of the mirrors lining the walls. Everyone was focused on her now. Good. He could move. "He's still a bit lighter in the chest and upper arms, but he'll end up as big as any of these." He tapped the figure on the shoulder. Those forearms were just too blatant.
"I really want to see him." She licked her lips. Now everyone was really staring at her. "I've been looking for another model."
"Since Peter dumped you for what's her name, Liss?"
"Yeah," she snorted, placing Darya's dress on a hanger and then covering it with tissue paper and finally two sheets of cardboard. The light fabric would have wrinkled horribly otherwise. Karin looked Vayer up and down. "Don't tease her in it. Its nearly impossible to get roniplin stains out of ramia."
"I'll remember that." He put his hands behind his back. When she handed him the bill his nager stopped in utter shock. Vayer glared at him. Danyel ducked behind the dummy again. He'd warned the Sime.
"Do you do custom work?" Nashen slid into the gap, catching the bill as it began drifting toward the floor. Vayer zlinned frozen, even though his throat was working convulsively. He pulled out a credit chip as if he'd been using one all his life. Danyel blinked at it. He'd never, ever seen a corporate first, four plus card in the tentacles of any private individual. They were usually used to facilitate purchases of entire ships with full cargoes of rare furs and material.
Karin's field flashed white before she damped it down. "I think we can arrange something." She looked at Arkay speculatively. "I'll require a set of measurements and your preferences in colors."
"Oh, I like your style." His field gleamed. Danyel was still shocked silent. Karin had never, ever been willing to design anything custom. He'd have wanted her to make something for him, otherwise. Although he didn't have anywhere near the cash it seemed Nashen could throw around without a thought. "Although are you willing to make anything for me?"
She glanced at the chip again before answering. "If you, and the Gens you're buying for are willing to do a photo shoot."
"Are you sure you want the two of us?" Arkay's grace took Danyel's breath away, not to mention his selyn.
"Can I do video?" She was visibly drooling, not just nagerically. Danyel had already joined her. He really wanted to zlin Arkay and Dimitri dressed up together.
"Yes," Nashen's eyes gleamed. "Although with Arkay and Dimitri together, I'm going to be superfluous in the extreme."
"Never," Arkay growled, tugging him closer. "Although I'm going to look ancient next to Dimitri."
"And I'm going to look downright shabby." Nashen straightened his shirt. "So see, now we have a legitimate reason to stay, Vanesa."
"You cheat." Her field twisted in amused little knots, as if she both wanted to hit him and kiss him. "Although I'm going to have to ask for your forgiveness in advance if I'm no longer readily available."
"You don't have to cater to us all the time, Vanesa." Arkay said. Nashen was bent over, talking quickly with Karin. Danyel could zlin by reflection he was talking about him, but could not figure out what. Karin waved her hands in the air, as if in exasperation, which from her nager it was. Nashen was taking her for a long, hard ride with the concessions he was pulling from her. Danyel reminded himself yet again not to try to get the best of Hajene Nashen, it was a loosing game.
"We'll be back on Monday morning with Dimitri." Nashen touched his tentacles to his forehead.
"And I'll have your dinner coats ready for fitting tomorrow afternoon." Karin zlinned as if she were expecting a very long night.
"Do you think we could talk contracts while you are fitting Dimitri?" Nashen shrugged back on his shirt. She'd had both men undress to the waist while she examined them thoroughly with a tape measure.
"I probably shouldn't, but yes." She put aside the pad. Danyel blinked at the numbers. He wished he were so well built. Karin was examining him with her eyes. The steady gaze, with her nager involved as well, was more intimate than many transfers he'd had. "Come here." She sighed at last.
"Me?" He pointed with a tentacle.
"Yes, you." Her nager was not happy. Neither was she, obviously. So tense he barely touched the floor as he walked, he went to her. "Take 'em off."
"All of them?!" Danyel knew he should have worn underwear. He'd known something would go wrong this evening.
"Yes, all of them." She reached for the buttons on his shirt.
"No," he held up his hand and quickly pulled out his shirt. The tails were very long and would have hidden a multitude of sins, or lack of suitable equipment to sin with. He had no where near the sort of basket her 'models' must have.
"I'm going to have to fit you for pants, too." She put her hands on her hips.
"Not right here."
"The light is the best here." She rolled her eyes, nager twining around her wrists. "Come on. Anyone who comes in here isn't going to care about your skinny carcass, Ferris."
The insult stung. He wanted to snap something witty at her. Instead he stripped off his pants as he'd been told. Danyel knew better than to annoy even a donor.
"Not too bad." She snorted. Her cold hand spreading his legs made him squeak in surprise. "Stop that." She swatted him on the thigh. He gritted his teeth, tentacles knotting around his fingers. If he'd been any less mortified, her field would have driven him crazy. Although her absolute concentration on what she was doing helped.
Not since he'd changed over had anyone run their hands over his body like this. Now he knew what some of those Wild Gens of old must have felt like. She had no awareness of him as anything more mindful than one of her dummies.
"Are you going to pad?" She stared at his crotch.
"What?!"
"You know. Add a little bulk. For advertising." She shrugged. "I would if I were you."
"No." His nager said yes. She glanced at Nashen who nodded. Danyel was mortified. If he'd still had his knife on, it would have gone across his wrists, tentacles not withstanding. But as it was for Dimitri, he'd live.
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