Healer's Heart
Section 2
by
Ann Marie Olson
Story © 2002 Ann
Marie Olson
Chapter 5
Dimitri tried to evict the small creatures who'd decided his mouth was the perfect den. However, from the taste, they'd all died six months ago. He must have suffered transfer last night. He reached deep within himself and found it was only ten in the evening.
"What?" He rubbed at his eyes, trying to clean some of the worst of the crud out of them. Mitka fell off his chest to land with a thump on the floor. The room around him was chill and smelled of a long dead fire. The walls were a dark blur outside his ability to see clearly.
With a thump of his own, he put his feet on the floor. At least the rugs took the chill off. Dimitri blinked as a second blanket, one he he'd only seen on the couch slithered off him, rustling as loudly as Mitka's scales. He hated being hungover. Particularly as he'd never had the experience of being drunk.
Limping heavily, he staggered to the bathroom. He didn't look any better in the mirror. Why had everyone let him sleep so long? It had been, he consulted his time sense, eleven in the morning, when he'd fallen asleep? He shook his head, groaning as it tried to fall off.
Arkay had been wonderfully kind to leave a small bottle of jarli in the medicine cabinet. It went down without a quibble, nesting comfortably in his stomach. The warm buzz of jarli settled the worst of his hangover nicely. Dimitri scrubbed at his teeth with the corner of a towel. It was the best he could do without a brush.
"At least I don't have to brush my hair." It was so short his fingers did the job nicely. He fluffed it all up so it stood straight. Dimitri limped back into the other room and only now noticed the bottle of oil on the cold hearth.
His nameless benefactor must have seen the scar on his leg. How much else had he seen? Dimitri tugged the robe around him better. He wasn't normally body shy, but he wasn't too sanguine about someone staring at him in his sleep. Mitka looked like a slut when he slept and Dimitri figured he probably didn't look a whole lot better.
He sat in the chair and opened the bottle. Recognizing the scent of pennyroyal and lavender, he smiled. Someone had the same taste in massage oil he did. After warming it in his hands, he worked it into the scar on his leg. The sharp scent must have been enough to wake Mitka out of his second doze and he clawed his way up the side of the chair into Dimitri's lap. He'd only used his claws on Dimitri once, at least by accident.
"Smells good." He sniffed at Dimitri's leg. "Why can't you heal it?"
"Because I can't do anything about the damaged nerves." He sighed, rubbing the oil in deeper. The sharp bite of the mint cooled the ache while the clove base warmed the skin. It felt wonderful. Dimitri finally rubbed all the hair the right direction. Just for balance, he rubbed the oil off on his other shin.
A blur of white caught his eye on top of another blur which he recognized as his luggage. "Good," he got his shirt, no longer limping, and pulled out his glasses. With them he could see he was in a huge room with a big central fireplace. He blinked at the light coming in the far windows. "When is it?" There was nothing like a clock in sight.
He tried the door. It was locked! Suddenly frantic, he yanked at it with all his might. It held. Mitka flew up to him with a great thumping of wings against the air. His landing on Dimitri's shoulder nearly threw him into the door.
"I can fix." He snaked his head down and peered into the keyhole with one eye first, then the other. With one claw, he fiddled with the tumblers. Dimitri tried not to breathe and jar him. He slithered down Dimitri's front and sat in front of the door. Where was everyone? They should have heard his slam against the door. Mitka's tongue flicked out, but before he could pick the lock, the knob turned.
Dimitri blinked at his benefactor. "Good morning." Darya looked as rumpled as he felt. She yawned, covering her mouth with her hand.
"I fell asleep too." She still held her knitting in one hand, crumpled. She handed it to him.
"What am I supposed to do with this?" He was careful not to let any of the stitches slip off. Particularly when Mitka poked it with his nose. It had become much harder to knit since Mitka'd been born. He tried to help.
"Oh, sorry," she took it back. "I'm not at all sure where everyone is. Vayer would have woken me up when they came in."
"All right then, what time is it here? I'm all turned around from the flight." His body was telling him it was night. His eyes told him it was morning. "Ugh," he rubbed at his eyes under his glasses.
"Still not used to them?" She steered him into the other room. Dimitri slipped the bottle of massage oil into his pocket before she could see it. Mothers could be difficult about secret admirers. Or at least that's what the writers of cheap romances wrote. He wasn't taking any chances. Dimitri'd never had anyone court him.
"No," he shook his head. His whole backside was still a touch numb from sleeping in the chair and he paced to loosen his muscles and get the blood flowing back to his brain. "Can't you tell where papa is?"
"Oh, he's around somewhere." She sat on the couch, returning to her knitting with steady clicks. Dimitri couldn't sit. "He'll be by soon."
"Now that we're both awake?" Dimitri stretched, luxuriating in the room to do so. He'd originally thought this room fairly small because of the dark walls. His own exhaustion probably hadn't helped any. After having been locked in a tiny sharm room by Salkov last year, he was paranoid about being trapped anywhere close. He retied his robe and checked his breeches. They were still damp, but at least he wouldn't be hanging out of them.
After a bit of struggle, he gave up. They'd been snug yesterday. Today they were impossible. He knew Arkay'd washed them in cold water, but wet, they wouldn't slide on his skin at all. Dimitri threw them against the wall. He wanted to sit on the tiles and have a good cry. Nothing was going right at all.
"Come out here, love." His mother called to him. Hoping his upset hadn't been too loud, he returned to the other room, again tugging his robe closed. A cold draft slithered up between his legs, making his testicles try to hide in his body. He shivered all over.
"Let me get the fire going again." It seemed his family decided to return, finally. With the last twenty four hours he'd suffered, he didn't want to know what had gone wrong now.
"I'll do that." Vayer came to his aid. "Go look." He winked. Dimitri sighed and turned around.
"For you." An exotically dark lord he'd never met before was handing him the key to the door. It was the perfect thing. Dimitri laughed, throwing his head back and giving his whole body to the exercise.
Danyel couldn't help but grin with Dimitri's reaction. It wasn't the nageric interaction, but rather the pleasure he could see Dimitri giving to his laughter. "The right thing?"
"I meant what we went shopping for." Vayer snorted, scraping the ashes from the fireplace and then laying the wood for a new fire.
"Its perfect." Dimitri took it from Danyel's hand, brushing his tentacles in the process. The dragon, Mitka, watched with glowing gold eyes. "Thank you."
"For?" Danyel lowered his eyes, suddenly quite aware of their difference in height, and station. Dimitri, awake, held enough strength in Mitka to rival Vanesa. It wasn't his place to even zlin a first.
"Caring," Dimitri tipped his chin up with a fingertip. "I'm flattered." His shimmering nager cloaked him in a veil as fine as silver mist, unlike the other Russians with their impenetrable fields.
"It was forward." A chill ran up his arms. He should have never taken such liberties.
"And thank you for the oil." He breathed, as quiet as a summer breeze. Danyel's head snapped up. Yes, he cold smell the distinctive aroma of cloves and mint. Dimitri's eyes were neither gray nor blue, but in between and as dark as old ice.
"You're welcome." Danyel yanked his tentacles back into their sheathes. Mitka was still staring at him, unblinking this whole time. "Any time."
"You'll tuck me into bed?" A single dimple appeared in Dimitri's cheek.
"If you like." He put his hands behind his back, keeping them from reaching out to the young Donor. It wouldn't do to be grabbing at him. Not like this. "Although I think you might want to see what else we brought back."
"I didn't ask for this." His nager smoothed to the consistency of glass. "I don't have the money for it."
"Then accept it gracefully." Danyel caught his eyes again. There was old pain there, as young as he was. "We can't always manage everything by ourselves, Dimitri."
"Of course not." He shook his head, as if shaking off flies. "And just why did you let both mama and I sleep on chairs when we could have been in bed?" The sharp change shocked Danyel down to his laterals. Then he caught the laughter in Mitka's eyes. It was uncanny to see a creature out of pure fantasy living and breathing in front of him, to say the least.
"Because you were both so soundly asleep I couldn't stand to have you woken." Danyel fought to keep the empathy he had for young Dimitri from his field. Dimitri raised an eyebrow at him, curiosity in every line of his face, even if it didn't show on his nager. "You were so beautiful last night." He clutched at the chain he wore again around his throat, now weightless without the heavy key.
"Now I know you flatter me." He tugged at the belt on his robe again. It didn't help a whole lot. Danyel could still clearly remember his incredible body and nager, sprawled all over the chair last night. Vayer had built up the fire and a gentle warmth came from the center of the room.
"Are you going to go back to sleep in it, Mitka?" He teased the dragon.
"I was mad." He said, voice a perfect echo of Dimitri's soft accent. "You'd pissed me off."
"I do that to him." Dimitri's nager twinkled. "He doesn't like it when I don't give him everything he wants."
"Everything I need." Mitka snorted. Something damp landed on Danyel's face. He wiped it away and looked at it. Then as he zlinned it vanished, leaving behind a slightly sticky feeling something.
"You didn't need that." He tugged at his belt again.
"Tell me now." Mitka crammed his head up the front of Dimitri's robe.
"Get out of there." He jumped back, flashing the whole room in the process. Danyel hid his grin as best he could. "I'm not going to let you lick me with a whole room full of people around."
"You said in the morning." If a dragon could pout, Mitka was. "Its morning. Now give."
"Not right now." Dimitri said through clenched teeth. "Later."
"You lied to me."
"No I didn't." Dimitri's field turned soft, as if he'd been hurt.
"Its only eight-thirty, Mitka." Danyel said. Dimitri's field froze, as if it had been dropped in a bucket of ice. "We'll be done here soon and Dimitri can take care of you."
"You don't know what he's asking for?" Dimitri sounded like he was choking. Mitka's eyes blazed with glee. He rubbed his belly on the floor, coming to twine around Danyel's feet.
"I love thee." He purred, twisting his way up and around Danyel's legs, growing bigger and bigger the whole time. When he licked Danyel's face, leaving a track of that slime behind, all he could do was not zlin. Mitka's body was as hot as a furnace and his fangs longer than Danyel's hands. They were now nose to nose. Danyel would have run in terror if his legs weren't bound together. "You're afraid."
He felt as if he'd just kicked a puppy. He lowered his eyes from Mitka's and gingerly brushed his side. It was slick and hard, like any other reptile's, if far warmer.
"Tickle." Mitka squirmed, caressing Danyel's legs with his whole body and cupping him in his huge wings. His breath was as sweet as the clove and mint oil he'd given Dimitri. "You're nice." He stroked his jaw against Danyel's face, those huge fangs sliding right by his ear. His jaws were even hotter than the rest of him, but soft, as roniplin glands were soft after the excess had been absorbed after transfer.
Danyel reached up and rubbed at the off side. Mitka leaned into him, nearly knocking him over. He would have if Mitka weren't holding him up!
"I thought you had southerner's?" Arkay asked. Danyel couldn't zlin a shenned thing. It was as if Mitka were absorbing the ambient into his midnight black scales. It felt pretty good, actually. He stroked the joint of his wing, careful not to squeeze too hard.
"I do." Diomid had explained to him, the first time the Rus had visited, that being Ferris was considered a lethal in Russia. He himself had often enough wondered if it should have been. But in Mitka's wings, he could see and zlin without the constant whirlwind of information knocking him all over. He met Dimitri's gaze and grinned from ear to ear.
Dimitri gave him back a shy smile. The expression lit his face from within, making him look so very young it nearly broke Danyel's heart. Had either of them ever been, truly, so young? "No," he mouthed, coming up to them. "I'm glad you like him."
"He's beautiful." Danyel hugged Mitka to him with all his might. Mitka's breath whooshed out of him, probably spraying half the people in the room, but he didn't care. In retaliation, most likely, Mitka grabbed him right back, claws and all. The sharp pleasure/pain grounded him to his body and made him gasp.
"Don't hurt." Dimitri reached for Mitka's neck.
"No, doesn't hurt." Danyel shivered all over with the goodness of it. He'd never had any entran functional feel like that. It had been three days since he'd worked in collections and when they'd been preparing Dimitri's surprise, the horrible vibrations had started up. Now he was entirely free of them, without the exhaustion of working himself nearly to death. "Oh my." He breathed, sagging in Mitka's grasp.
"You're going to get molested if you keep petting him." Dimitri put his hand over Danyel's. The cool, wonderfully Gen feel of his touch went right through Danyel's defenses.
"Don't warn him." Mitka was pressed against him, nearly smothering him with his entire body wrapped around Danyel's. "I want him."
"You're post, silly dragon." Dimitri put his fists on his hips. He had his legs spread and looked like a graphic story hero. Not one for children. The belt had fallen loose again. Dimitri blushed and grabbed for his wayward clothes. Danyel wrinkled his nose and giggled.
"I get the feeling you are too." Although with the way Mitka was writhing against him, it was a good thing he wasn't translucent. Danyel didn't have enough to give himself away too badly, as far as he knew, but the warmth of Mitka rubbing against him, particularly his groin, would have gotten a statue aroused. There was something so sensual about the way he twined and slid his body around Danyel's. He supposed many people would have considered it the height of perversity, but it did feel good.
"Do not put your tail between his legs." Dimitri tugged Mitka's tail loose before it could get past Danyel's knees.
"Thank you." He said, swallowing heavily. He'd not been at all sure of what Mitka was planning on doing with that tail.
"You're no fun." Mitka stuck out his tongue at Dimitri and gave him a huge raspberry. Dimitri wiped more slime from his glasses with a silk handkerchief.
"Before lunch, Mitka." He put his glasses back on. The oddness of it amused Danyel. Few people bothered with such things, either getting a channel to fix their eyes or going without. "So, what did you all get me?" He zlinned resigned to his fate, like a renSime dragged into a Sime Center when they really wanted their renGen sweetie.
"Don't be such a ren." Darya put down her knitting. "I want to see too. Although call Mitka off long enough to let Danyel help."
"Oh, he's fine." Danyel felt cold without Mitka curled around him. Dimitri glanced down and winked. Mitka came back, incidentally covering him from hip to knee in front. "Useful." He murmured. The problem had gone away quickly as soon as Mitka had let him go, but he liked having him near.
Chapter 6
Dimitri's head was spinning at the way Danyel had taken to Mitka. Diomid had told him to avoid the older lord, not that he thought about it, but he'd acted so normally he'd nearly forgotten the man had southerner's. Mitka was wrapped around him like a serpent from one of Maryam's sharm tales.
It felt good not to have to carry Mitka around, even so soon after having gotten rid of his selyn. For a moment he wondered if it would be enough benefit to Danyel he'd be willing to stay around. But no, Dimitri couldn't think of taking a lord to hand, even for a few months, who had southerner's syndrome.
He'd kill him in a heartbeat, not meaning to. He sat next to Darya and held her yarn for her.
"Thanks," she patted his hand and went back to her knitting. She was knitting more socks, brightly colored ones this time, to go inside boots, obviously.
"Ran out of each color?" He grinned, slipping another tight knot through his fingers. The whole ball was liberally seeded with them.
"Yes," she shrugged. "They'll work well enough to keep Vayer's feet warm."
"So he doesn't put them on you in the middle of the night?" Dimitri winked at his mother. Vayer had certainly done it often enough to him when they'd shared a bed the night before transfer. They'd never shared one afterward, even when they'd both been so post it would have harmed no one. Dimitri sighed and eased another knot out of the ball of yearn.
"Yes," she grinned. "Now hush. I want to see what they bought."
"First, we noticed you were quite short of clothes." Arkay winked at him. It really wasn't his fault. All of his underclothes had been effective enough under the kadors he'd borrowed from Vanya's closet. The problem was they were more holes than cloth, and what cloth there was had been darned so many times he couldn't tell what color they'd been.
The shirt and pants he'd worn yesterday had been the only whole underwear he'd ever owned in his life.
Danyel pulled out a large box. "From me." His hands caressed it gently.
"Thank you." He hefted it. Nothing to do but open it. The smell of newly dyed cloth hit his nose first. The first thing he saw was the placket of a nicely embroidered cross front shirt. He lifted it from the box and was stunned. The sheen of fine cotton amazed him. But it was white. This hadn't been dyed. Underneath it were two others, both plenty large enough to fit across his shoulders. "Thank you." He repeated, flattered a near stranger would give him something so fine.
"You're welcome." Danyel's eyes held his. Mitka had his chin resting on Danyel's shoulder, as if he were Danyel's nager, not Dimitri's. They were amazing together, black hair blending perfectly with black scales. "I like shopping."
"Like a sharm lord?" He teased. "I wish I had the words to tell you what this means to me."
"There's more." He turned away, his dark skin turning even darker for a moment. Mitka rubbed his jaw against Danyel's. The affection Mitka showed for Danyel stunned Dimitri down to his toes. He'd never, ever been so forward with anyone. "Here." He handed Dimitri another box.
"I can't." He opened it anyways. Matching pants, in equally fine wool and cotton were folded neatly on top of each other. One was a dark earthen brown and the other a deep indigo blue. He ran his hands over them, feeling the thick, even weave of the fabric. "Oh, Danyel." His vision sparkled as he held back tears of gratitude.
"They're only clothes." He said, taking a small step back. Dimitri tried to get a hold of his emotions. Post and still tired, they didn't come to rein any more than Mitka ever did.
"They're from you." He whispered, looking down at his hands.
"There's more." Arkay broke in, relieving Dimitri of his struggle with his emotions.
"Who put him up to this?" He knew Arkay'd seen the fact he hadn't been able to bring any other clothes other than those he'd had on his back.
"You should have enough to fill that case you brought with you." He winked. Soon Dimitri was surrounded with fine clothes, more than he'd ever dreamed of owning in his own name. Sergei's kadors belonged to Sergei, not him, personally. They'd also bought toiletries, another pair of boots, shoes, socks, even briefs!
"I don't know what to say." Dimitri bit at his lower lip, trying not to cry. No one had ever done anything like this for him. "Thank you all."
"I didn't help."
"Oh, you did, mama." He hugged her to him. "You gave me such wonderful fathers." Dimitri looked at Danyel, still wrapped in Mitka's long form. "And you showed them where to go."
"How did you know?"
"Because I know." He said, not wanting to go into his own talents right now. "Because I know you're the sort of person who'd make sure anything was done right."
"Now you flatter me." He continued stroking Mitka's back, making him purr.
"You stand there petting my nager and tell me I'm flattering you. To see him take to anyone so easily is proof it isn't flattery." Dimitri grinned at Mitka's look of utter bliss. His eyes were half lidded. As he watched a long gobbet of slime ran from one fang, all down Danyel's chest. It wasn't pretty. Danyel just wiped it up, careful to get the next one starting.
"I like him, Dimitri." He smiled down at Mitka. Mitka's eyes closed completely, his head sagging down to drape over Danyel's chest. "He's beautiful." Dimitri couldn't help but hear the warm complements to him Danyel added silently.
"We'd never found a cure for southerner's." He said, watching Danyel, so calm now after Mitka had taken to him so aggressively. Most normal lords would have run in a panic at Mitka wrapping himself around their body.
"I can't zlin very well with him here." Danyel's body had lost its brittle tension. His face, his whole demeanor had softened. "I'm not complaining, really."
"You look more comfortable." Darya'd gone back to her knitting. The steady clicking sounds soothed Dimitri's nerves as well. "I think he suits."
"Which way?" Danyel's lined face broke into a spectacular grin. His mobile features had opened up, as if someone had stopped beating him suddenly, after a long time of constant abuse. As Khristov did when someone was abusing him. A quick shudder went through Dimitri's body.
"I'm not saying." She cursed at a slipped stitch. Dimitri held the last on her needle as she pulled it back into place. "Thanks."
"No problem." He relaxed against of the couch, putting his arms against the back. "I suppose I should get up here soon."
"We're going out to dinner tonight. Before then, you're free to do whatever you wish." Arkay sat at his side. Like Darya, Mitka accepted him, unlike most Sharm Lords.
"Don't you have to go back?" Dimitri wavered between dismay and relief. He really didn't want to shoo his parents away so soon after they'd given him a fortune in new clothes and other things, but he'd also looked forward to being on his own, for the first time in his life. Always before there'd been someone looking after him, making sure he ate, took care of Mitka, found enough time to sleep.
"We're going back next weekend." He sighed, stretching out his own long legs. Nashen sat next to them, resting against him. "Someone here decided he wanted fancy clothes too."
"Besides, I want to see what Karin comes up with for Danyel." Nashen winked at him. Maybe it would be a good idea to have some familiar company while facing a whole new way of life.
"I have to get to work on Wednesday." He warned. "My contract with the Techton starts on the fifteenth."
"Then you'll have time to come with us to Karen's on Monday."
"What did you get me into?" Dimitri felt the far too familiar sinking sensation in the pit of his stomach. Even numbed a bit with jarli, his early unease came back in full force. "Papa?" He asked Vayer.
"Nashen is trying to get Karin, the designer of these outfits," he pointed to the fantastic blue and black shirts, with matching tights, "into a long term contract to make ones for Fatima." Dimitri hadn't been entirely sure about wearing those anywhere in public. They'd even gotten him a matching pair of soft, black boots to go with them.
"Didn't he forget its Mir's place to set up such foreign trade?" While Dimitri was Sergei down to the tips of his fingers, he'd never forgotten his origin in the bustling markets of Moskva, as a child of Fatima. "Why did you let him get away with it?"
"Because I didn't have the ante." He grimaced, twitching a tentacle at Nashen. "Although I want to hear him explain this one to Mikhail."
Dimitri laughed, thinking of just what Mikhail would say about the outrageous clothes. He wasn't a clotheshorse or much of a coinsurer of fine garments at all, much less lingerie. "He'll stammer like a fool, papa."
"Oh, probably." Vayer shrugged, his bright smile gleaming with fangs as sharp as Mitka's. "Its the most joy I'm going to get out of it."
"Oh hush." Nashen flipped a tentacle at him. "You'll get the final trade rights. Its just my capital that's going into the project."
"And I bet you're going to want at least ten percent of the profits, too."
"Oh, at least." He gave his lazy smile, showing as many teeth as Vayer. "We'll work it out when the deal is finalized."
"I wish I had the capital to really make some money." He sighed, wishing Danyel would quit hovering over them. Vanesa and Sevrin had vanished shortly after he'd opened his presents with the excuse they had work to do. Which was probably quite true, come to think of it. Dimitri's hands itched with wanting to get back to work himself.
"You do have work to do." Mitka raised his head from Danyel's breast.
"I do." He winced, pulling himself forward, out of the embrace of his family. "If you'll excuse us."
"You don't want to do it." He growled, his talons digging into Danyel's shoulders.
"Stop that." He ended up face to face with the older man. Well, face to neck. He was quite a bit taller than the lord. Dimitri looked down into very startled pair of black eyes. For a moment all he could think of was how kissable his soft, full, expressive lips were. "Stop it, Mitka." He growled, wanting to rip him off Danyel and throw him across the room.
But he didn't dare. Dimitri didn't know exactly how much damage it would do Danyel to have Mitka torn from him, but Dimitri did know it would be severe, if not lethal. "I'm commanding you."
"He likes me." Those long fangs rubbed against Danyel's face. There was no fear to the lord, only a sort of dreamy contentment, as if Mitka were drugging Danyel with his presence. "I like it here."
"I promised you, before lunch, I would take care of you." Dimitri backed away a step, trying to lure Mitka from Danyel's arms.
"You did." He raised his head. "I want him too."
"Oh?" Danyel looked Mitka in the eyes. Well, eye. It took a lot of will to do that when his fangs were so close. "I don't appreciate being tricked, Mitka."
"I had to try." His tongue flicked out to wrap around his muzzle.
"No you didn't." Danyel said. "You could have left Dimitri to make his own decision."
"Who are you to tell me what I should or could have done?" The scales on the back of Mitka's neck had arisen, a sure sign his temper was up. "I could rip you to shreds in seconds."
"You could." Danyel said plainly, still looking him in the eyes. "But you wouldn't."
"No, I wouldn't." Mitka said, unwrapping himself from Danyel's body. The lord stiffened, his eyes going true black this time. Dimitri could feel him go into shock. He dove for him, catching him before his head could hit the floor.
His heart had stopped. "My God." Dimitri breathed, praying against all hope he could get it started again. With only the lightest touch of power, he reached for Danyel's heart. It fluttered against his touch then went into massive fibrillations.
"Shen!" He shouted, putting him on his back. "Get back!" He barked at Mitka. Danyel's ribs gave beneath his first push. Then another. Then a third. Dimitri breathed for him, praying he'd come back. He let his own field wash through Danyel's body, desperately hoping he wasn't going to kill him forcing his systems to work. Finally after nearly six minutes of this, his heartbeat caught again, shortly followed by his lungs and selyn. Dimitri slumped over him. He didn't dare give vent to the terror turning his veins to ice. It would kill him as certainly as Mitka almost had.
"Danyel?" He asked, hoping his mind hadn't been damaged.
"Yes?" His eyes cracked open a fraction. "What happened?"
"Mitka dropped you."
"I didn't know it would murder him!" Mitka wailed. Silvery tears streamed from his eyes. "No!" His cry was followed by an ear piercing keen. "I want him."
"I know." Dimitri took Danyel's hand in both of his. The lord's tentacles came out and bound them in parody of the hand binding of transfer partners. "I wish." He patted their bound hands.
"It was good until he left." Danyel took a deep breath and then coughed.
"Stay still for a moment." He looked back to see everyone watching them, but not moving. "Why didn't you help?"
"Because we could do nothing, Dimitri." Arkay's eyes were as gray as a summer storm. "Any of use would have murdered him if we'd tried what you succeeded at."
Dimitri looked back at Danyel. "I wish."
"Me too." He brought Dimitri's hands to his mouth and kissed them. "I'd like to get to know you both better."
"A bit more carefully, though." Dimitri swallowed back his own reaction. Now he really was post. Working, as he'd been born and bred to work, with hands, mind and selyn had completed the cycle of need. He'd harmed himself, now he'd healed. "Will you go out to dinner with me?" Danyel glanced away. "No, will you come have dinner with me?"
"You cook?" He started.
"I do." He smiled, helping Danyel sit up. His resilience was amazing once he'd begun to recover, and now, only minutes later, nearly healed. Even the cracked ribs from Dimitri's CPSR. "I've always been too broke to pay anyone else to cook for me."
"I haven't." Danyel took a deep breath. "I think I'm going to take it easy this afternoon."
"Help me put my new things away?" He wanted to spend as much time with the fascinating lord as he could.
"When you're done with Mitka." He pointed out. No, this was not a feather headed lord, not at all. Just very, very reactive. "I think he deserves the respect.
"Even though he nearly killed you?"
"He only did as you asked." Danyel met his gaze evenly. "He doesn't deserve punishment for doing as he was asked."
"No, he doesn't. Will I be able to find you here?" He stood, helping Danyel to his feet. His nager was subdued, but still quite high field for someone who'd just survived total systemic arrest.
"You can find me in my rooms or in collections." Danyel wrote them down on a slip of paper and pressed it into Dimitri's hand. "I look forward to zlinning you in your new clothes."
"Definitely better than a bathrobe." He twitched it closed, yet again.
"Oh, I can see some definite advantages to a bathrobe." This time his gaze down Dimitri's body was all Sime. Unfortunately his body thought so as well. "Indeed?"
Dimitri nodded, looking away. Danyel was far from hard on the eyes, with his slightly curly, thick black hair, dark eyes and incredibly expressive lips. If only he didn't have southerner's syndrome. As it was, Dimitri didn't dare touch him for fear of killing him. He'd nearly killed him once already, without even touching his tentacles. There was no way they could share transfer together.
As if he were a Lord, Danyel looked him in the eyes and said, "Even if we can never have transfer, I'd have your touch."
Ashamed of his own greed, Dimitri looked away for a moment. "You shame me, Danyel."
"I'm older than you, Dimitri."
"All of my partners have been." He still clutched at Danyel's hands. They were work roughened, with callouses from knife, pen and half a dozen other things. Including a few odd turns to a couple of fingers from broken bones. He kissed Danyel's fingers, as if he were bringing Danyel's hands under the veil he'd never worn.
"Not so much older then." He squeezed Dimitri's hand. "This afternoon?"
"Yes," he took up the challenge. "I'll meet you there." If nothing else, he wanted to be truly certain Danyel would be all right.
Danyel knew he should get to work. There were fifteen annual reviews sitting on his desk, three job applications and at least two hours of work to be done in collections. He'd had to fiddle the schedule last night to be able to go out with Vanesa.
He stretched his tentacles and zlinned. The sun warmed them. He yawned and then blinked, surprised at himself. He wasn't so post he had to sleep hours at a time. Although he should also change his clothes.
His work rooms were on the other side of Kaon, away from the main entrance and all the bustle. Taking the stairs two at a time, his chest ached. What had happened? He remembered coming to with Dimitri's face only inches from his, as if they'd had transfer, on the floor! Danyel flicked away the memory.
Dimitri was Russian. Danyel was Ferris, if an odd one. It would never work. He was no so much a romantic to think otherwise. The gray overall with black piping wasn't particularly attractive. Even though he knew it was quite functional. He'd always kept a few changes of clothes and his office suite near the bathroom, with its own tiny shower. Often enough Danyel didn't want to bother with anything more complex than a shower and change of clothes, even though he insisted on going home at least every couple of days or so.
After another quick shower, he slipped on a clean coverall. The couch he often napped on called his name. He pulled out his cards and flipped through them. The familiar patterns settled the worst of his nerves. Sitting for a moment, he slipped through the techniques. Drawing from the bottom, setting cards in order, shuffling the aces on top. It was mindless work.
He leaned back in his chair. Dimitri had done something to him. Danyel put his hand over the palm sized bruise on his chest. Something fairly significant. Growling at his drooping eyelids he replaced his cards in the pocket at the front of his shirt, beneath the overalls.
The sun had turned the new greenery into a riot of enthusiasm. If he were to enjoy tonight at all, he had to get something done.
"Good morning, Hajene Danyel." His usual Donor, Sosu Sara blinked at him. She was a nice enough young woman, if a bit slow for his draw so she only assisted. He was used to it. "I see you were up with all the other Simes last night." Her nager stayed as flat as it always did. Before last night he wouldn't have noticed.
"Of course." He grinned, giving her an extravagant bow. "How else do you think I manage?"
"By going through their belongings when they're all out and then sleeping when everyone else is awake." The corners of her eyes crinkled in a grin. Why had he so rarely noticed anyone's facial expressions. He zlinned toward the oldest section of Kaon, where Arkay and Nashen stayed. "Although I have been waiting for a while."
Danyel checked his timesense and realized it had been nearly an hour! What had happened? "Then we should be gettin to work, m'lass."
She giggled behind her hand. There was something different to her today. He zlinned her only to find a bubbling wellspring of good cheer. It was no different than her usual field, but today it tugged at his own. He brushed his tentacles over the back of his hand as they entered the collection room.
"Ah, my home away from home." She settled herself on a large chair, curling her feet up under her. Sara wasn't a tiny woman, but she always did fold herself into a ball when she sat. He flicked a tentacle at the gesture and she didn't hide her twitch. "I always sit like this."
"Why?" He sat at his desk. There had been no one in the waiting room, strangely enough for a late Sunday morning. They always had a few general order donors there, wanting their selyn taken so they could repay their gambling debts from last night. Often enough one or more of them owed Danyel money.
He pulled out his cards and flipped them through his fingers and tentacles. He'd learned to play as a child. He'd learned to win as an adult. Even in a shiltpron parlor with the player on nageric he could still win. Being Ferris had to be good for something.
He'd had to move his knife to below his collar because of the overalls and for a moment felt a bit off at the hilt against the back of his neck. It too had been with him since childhood, albeit without the gems on the hilt. He'd added those later.
Sara came around behind him, offering a neck rub.
"Not today." He waved her away with an ace. "I'm a bit out of sorts." He stacked all the cards by suit. He'd slipped a two behind a five. Grumbling, he swept them up and reshuffled. This time they came out in a muddle.
"Bad day?" Her attention was on the cards. Danyel put them up. Rarely did he let anyone at the Sime Center see him practice.
"Oh, It will get better." His ears caught the door opening. What was wrong with him? He zlinned a child, not yet established, dickering with the receptionist. Danyel opened the door and looked out. He shook his head in frustration. The nageric window should have done well enough.
"What can we do for you?" He went to the child and knelt at her feet. Danyel was not very tall, but this youngster was tiny. She wasn't even close to maturity.
"Hajene, I," she sniffled, rubbing at her eyes. Her child's nager did nothing to his, but her tears were heartbreaking.
"We'll call another channel to go to your home, Lira." The receptionist hit the red button under the desk.
"What's going on?" He asked with his own field. His wash of bitterness came as a total surprise. Danyel braced against it.
"Can I help?" He wiped away the tears with a tentacle.
"Its my brother, he's," she sobbed, biting at her lower lip. "His tentacles are coming and we don't have the money for the ..."
Danyel picked her up, as he did Kaon's little girls. "Just tell me where to go."
"But we can't get anyone there in time."
"Oh yes we can." He augmented out the doors, not caring how badly he might startle some hungover fool. There was a taxi line at the front of the center, as there always was. Few enough Gens came in a taxi, almost all of them left in one. "Come on!" He yanked at Sara with his field. The lack of reaction knocked him off balance.
"Sosu Sara!" He shouted at last. She came bounding down the steps.
"You know you shouldn't be doing this." Her expression was resigned, in sharp contrast to her glassy, still, nager. "I'm not going to get into trouble like your last three Donors."
Danyel opened his mouth and then closed it. He spotted Dimitri coming down from the old quarters. With a frantic yank of his field he grabbed at Mitka. He squawked and launched himself into the air, then dove right at him. Danyel braced for impact.
"Where are we going?" Dimitri'd body slammed him into the cab. It rocked on its springs. "I caught you." He grinned at the little girl, tickling her nose with his. The cabbie's mouth was wide open. "You're going to catch flies like that." He hadn't had to remind Danyel of the smell.
He did smoke on occasion. Well, more than on occasion, but the smell of stale tobacco smoke and far worse things churned his uneasy stomach.
"Go straight." She pointed.
"You heard her!" Dimitri smacked the cabbie with his field so hard Danyel had to duck.
"He can't zlin." Danyel muttered under his breath.
"So?" Dimitri wiped the tears from the child's face with one of his silk handkerchiefs. "We'll get there in time."
"We don't have the money." She wailed, turning her face to his chest.
"We have to know where we're going." He gently turned her back so she could see out. "Now is it a left or a right up here at the stop?"
"A right," she rubbed at her eyes. "My brother ..."
"Relax," Dimitri was stroking the child's nager with his own faint gleam. It didn't do any good. Danyel put his hand over Dimitri's, praying he wouldn't get shoved around as well. "We can do it."
"Together?" Danyel's tentacles traced the veins on the back of Dimitri's hand. Beneath the skin, he could feel the life growing in him, as it did in all Gens, but there was a vibrance to Dimitri's field unlike any other Gen.
"Today," his field flickered dark. The child didn't lead them far in miles, but in terms of ambient, it might have been another world. Danyel stepped carefully over the remains of a shattered toilet.
"Come on." Dimitri beat him to the door, somehow managing to traverse weeds with their hidden traps of broken glass and worse without a single misstep. Something, long dead, was buried under only the thinnest layer of dirt near the front door.
"I couldn't do better." The child whimpered, her glance following his. "He was my best friend after Marc."
"Your brother." He took the child. She'd managed the treacherous front yard as easily as Dimitri. He'd picked up more than a few thorns in his socks.
"Why don't you go in?" She reached for the door.
"No," Dimitri held them both back. He was listening to something. Mitka flew down out of the sky and right through a closed window! Danyel blinked away the image of one solid object going through another as easily as a stick would go into water.
"Marc, no, don't!" Came from the other side of the door. If they'd gone through it, they'd have shoved whoever it was shouting into the new Sime's arms. Dimitri vaulted the railing on the porch. Danyel followed, nearly landing on a rusted out car. Even augmenting he barely managed not to fall into the shattered windshield. Dimitri danced over the surface as if it were a stage for his own special performance.
He followed Mitka, this time with a tremendous crash. There was a flash of pain on the ambient. This time knowing better, Danyel carefully followed. Shards of broken glass scattered under his feet as he came to rest in the dingy living room. There were faded blankets covering the back of a sagging couch and a single chair beneath the window.
Then, like a scene out of a history book, or his own past, a new Sime, crazed with first need, stalked Lira's mother. Or at least he guessed she was her mother. From the tired lines on her face and the threadbare bathrobe, she fit in here at least.
The berserker did not. Danyel felt a hot tightness in his own throat. He'd come so close to this scene. Only his escape into the arms of the Techton had saved him.
Dimitri was huge in the tiny room, Mitka coiled around him, an oversized necklace.
"Come to me." Danyel held out his hands to the new Sime. Mitka raised his head, hissing. The new Sime, Marc, flipped back and forth between them. Had he killed? Was Dimitri trying to already disjunct him? Danyel'd never studied disjunction, knowing if he ever went junct, he'd be dead before the month was out, by suicide if nothing else.
Mitka then glared at him and flipped his head to the door. Lira was pounding on it frantically. Danyel ran to the woman. Her nager was as flat as glass, but alive, very much alive. Dimitri must have scared her senseless, literally.
"Wait." He told Lira. Danyel put himself between Marc and his mother.
"Mama!" Lira wailed. "Oh, please, mama!" Sense came to Marc's eyes for a moment. He stared at Danyel, then his attention flicked to Dimitri. Terror greater than any Danyel'd ever zlinned ripped the ambient to shreds. He caught Marc on his way to the window. Danyel yanked both their arms in between them.
"No," Dimitri sounded like he was correcting a wayward pet. Before they could fall on the broken glass, strong Gen arms surrounded them. Marc yanked at Danyel's arms. First transfer, as sweet as honey and spring wine caught him up in its celebration of new life.
Quivering all over, Marc looked up into Danyel's eyes, his own wide with shock.
"Relax, little Sime." Dimitri's voice was a low, soft purr Danyel felt more than heard. "Both little Simes."
"Everyone is small compared to you." Danyel zlinned to see broken glass winking at him from only inches away. He moved himself and Marc away from the lethal hazard.
"Let me help you up." As if he were moving a cat he lifted both of them to their feet. Marc was boneless in Danyel's arms.
"Welcome to adulthood." Danyel zlinned him as well as he could through Dimitri's field. Mitka was watching this all with bright eyed interest from where he'd curled up on Marc's mother. "Exciting, wasn't it." He zlinned, fascinated as always, as Marc's tentacles explored their new environment. Danyel twined his own with them, showing the young man how they worked. His grin was so different from the grimace of anguish he'd had only moments before.
How could something like this happen in this day and age? Danyel himself had known well enough to run to the nearest Sime Center with the onset of change over. He zlinned around for clues, finding nothing but the lack of a television or radio. There wasn't even a telephone in the mean little room.
Chaper 7
Dimitri met Danyel's eyes, asking silently what to do now? The sheer poverty of this place was not something he could comprehend, even standing in the middle of it. They were far down river of Kaon, where all the detritus of any stream or river landed, human or otherwise.
Mitka licked Marc's mother and she stirred. Dimitri went to her, making sure she didn't see him. No, she was renGen, she shouldn't have felt his touch. He put his hand on her brow, through the touch trying to get a closer sense of her mind. A whirling maelstrom of insanity battered at a fragile facade of manners.
"Hush," he let Mitka wrap his wings around the woman. She'd probably think him another hallucination, but he couldn't let her disturb the two Simes. "Lets get you moved so we can let Lira in."
Her mouth opened to scream! Mitka grabbed her hard. Dimitri put his hand over her mouth. She struggled in their grip.
"Bless it all to hell." Dimitri couldn't get her calm enough to put her under! He could hardly keep a hold of her. Diomid had taught him more than infirmary medicine in the past year. He pulled back and gave her a sharp jab to the point of the jaw. Shen, he hated hitting anyone. Her eyes rolled up in her head and he caught her mind as she fell unconscious.
Good, he hadn't harmed her. If she'd not struggled quite so hard he could have pinched the carotid shut just long enough to knock her out. As it was, she'd have a violent headache coming to. He moved her away from the door and let Lira in.
"Why are they both staring like that?" Her eyes were huge.
Dimitri looked at the two Simes. Both of them were staring, tentacles out and pushing away. The ultimate rejection of any Gen. His heart sank, but he answered the little girl, "Because you're mother is ill and I had to do something that scared them."
"Oh, you hit her." She shrugged, as if it were no consequence. "Are you OK, Marc?" The event vanished from her childish nager as soon as she turned away from them. These were not healthy children, either. He'd felt old bruises and scars on Lira's limbs when he'd held her in the car, but had thought her simply a more awkward child than most.
"Danyel?" Dimitri was at a complete loss as to what to do. He shrugged, keeping one hand on the woman's breastbone to monitor her pulse and breathing. It was as steady as her daughter's. The older lord was still enthralled in the new Sime he'd saved from the Hunt. Well, here it probably wouldn't be a Hunt, but he didn't know what would have happened to the lad.
"Hmmm?" He smoothed Marc's new tentacles back into their sheathes. "You're going to have to come into the Sime Center tomorrow morning, when the channel on duty can sign you into your new school.
"Never went to no school." Adolescent nerves took over from the insecurity of such a huge change in his life. "Don't got to, neither." He snorted. "M'mam is good 'nough."
"You 'mam' as you call her, who beats you both?" Dimitri growled. The woman on the floor began struggling back to consciousness. This time he put her into near catatonia, triggering her mind to lock down her body completely. She'd be completely passive, physically, now until he could try to fix what was actually wrong with her. It was obviously more than poor diet and lack of exercise. Although when Dimitri reached deeper, he found her heart on the verge of catastrophic failure. All her symptoms, together, made it painfully obvious to Dimitri she'd never had a transfer of any kind in her life.
"You take that back. You mean, you ..." Lira came up and began pounding on him.
He caught her hands easily. "I didn't hurt her." Dimitri freed one hand and stilled her struggles. "Here now, little one. I'm not here to hurt anyone."
"You're bad!" She sobbed. "Just like I am. I'm bad and I'm going to make her hit me. She doesn't like to, we make her do it." Her frantic looks between them tore Dimitri's heart in two. He'd never before seen an abused child, but the signs were unmistakable from the handful of abused sharm lords he'd helped. He bundled her into his arms, as he'd done for too many hurt Gens. She pounded on his chest, frantic to get away. "I don't want to be bad. I want to be good. Let me go!"
"No, little one." He swallowed down the lump in his throat. "We'll help."
"I don't want your help. I want my mama!" Her cries only made him ache inside. No child should ever have to go through this. "Marc had been a good kid. It isn't mama's fault he turned out bad. She'll teach him good. Let me go!" Her wail, in her child's treble, was sharper than glass.
"Don't hurt her." Marc yelled from across the room. "Let me go!" He echoed his sister's cry.
Danyel must have done it. Marc grabbed at his shirt, trying to pull him away from his sister. Mitka snarled at him. His whole body was as rigid as stone. The confusion in his nager wrenched at Dimitri's self control. "Let me help you." He looked up from Lira, now sobbing quietly against his chest. "There you go, little one." He purred, rocking her slowly. "I'll take care of you."
"We can't take in children." Danyel pulled Marc off him. "We can't make them do what they don't want to."
"She's just a child. They're both just children." Dimitri'd seen too many of his family unable to bear healthy children. None of them talked about it, but he'd seen the hurt in Kirina's eyes every time she looked at a mother with more than one or two children, or Nashen's protectiveness of Tzer. Lira was as healthy as any child could be in such awful surroundings. No one in Russia lived like this, without any bright things at all, or even a simple icon over the hearth.
"But they're not our children."
"I'm not a kid." Marc stood up straight, even though Dimitri knew he had to be utterly exhausted. "Not now. I'm bad." His fingers dug into his new tentacles sheathes. Danyel pulled his arms apart, not quite saving him the sharp bite of pain. "I didn't mean it, mama!"
Dimitri wanted to cry in Lira's short hair as well. How could anyone allow this to happen? Well, it wasn't going to go on. He stared into Danyel's eyes. At his back, he could feel Mitka do the same. "I may not have any rank here, but I am human. These children, both of them, require help. Are you going to help them or do I have to do it myself?"
"You didn't even have a spare shirt to your name last night, Dimitri." Danyel snarled, his dark eyes black. Dimitri couldn't catch the slightest hint of his feelings behind those midnight eyes.
"She did?" He tipped his chin at the room. "Who takes care of neglected or abused children here?"
"The D. Ferris Center." His nager turned to ice, probably shocking the shen out of Marc, who jumped in his hands.
"That's where they take bad kids." His face fell. "Like me. You can't take Lira there!"
Dimitri looked at Danyel with new respect. No matter how well shielded, he could tell the D stood for Danyel. Why had he set up a home for children like these? No matter. He stood, looking around again. The room didn't improve on second appearances, or would it improve on even the twentieth.
"My mama!" Lira leaned out of his arms.
"We'll take her with us and help her too, Lira." Dimitri wasn't sure if he could manage more than helping her forget she'd ever had children, but there was little else he could do. And also make sure she'd never bear again. She was young enough to do so. Although a small part of him shivered like a struck bell at his own words.
"You can't just take these children like this." Danyel's tentacles lashed around his hands.
"Watch me." He looked around and noticed there was only the single main room, cubby for a kitchen, a bathroom and a locked room at the back of the house. Mitka joined him and peered at the lock.
"Let me." Danyel's field was darker than the dim sunlight which had managed to slither in through the dirty windows. He reached down to the ankle of his boot and pulled out a set of lockpicks. Dimitri had to bite back a wild flare of amusement. Danyel winked at him and pulled open the door. His amusement fled.
Two cots, both far too small for the children, leaned against the walls. The rank smells of human waste and rot stank in the tiny room. The stone walls were dark with mildew, all the way up to the ceiling. Dimitri held Danyel back, not incidentally handing him Lira. He stepped into the room, ducking to clear the lintel.
Not only were the walls thick with mildew, the floor was rotted out to the subfloor. Dimitri watched carefully where put his feet so he wouldn't fall through to the foundation. It was as neat as two preadolescent could possibly keep any room. There wasn't a single toy or even rag doll in sight. Some of the smell came from a chamber pot in the corner.
"How often did she keep you in here?" Dimitri was fighting not to kill the idiot renGen on the floor.
"When we were bad." Lira wouldn't meet his eyes.
"And when was that, little one?" He closed the door behind him and knelt to be eye to eye with her.
"Almost every night." Her face jerked up. "I, we, we tried to be good." Her throat moved convulsively. She glanced at her mother. Dimitri turned her face back to his. "She's going to lock us up for weeks. Marc and I together. I'm scared!"
"Don't be, sweet heart." He gathered her into his arms again. From the way she clutched at him, no one except her brother had held her in years. Marc had finally collapsed in Danyel's arms, tear streaked face painfully clean for the filth outside this one room. Both children were scrubbed to within an inch of their lives. "We'll take care of you." He met Danyel's eyes. This could not be allowed to go on.
Danyel forced himself to meet Dimitri's gaze. He'd seen worse. Shen, he'd lived through worse. His own mother had been a drunken whore, not just a Church of the Purity fanatic. "Lets get you home."
"Is there some way to contact the Center to bring a big van of some kind?" Dimitri tipped his chin at the mother. Danyel would have much rather left her to rot, personally. Mitka's eyes were unreadable as he watched the scene, but they were the color of old brass, hard and dark.
"We can have the cabbie call." He nodded. "Can you take care of ..." Danyel broke off in midsentence. Of course Dimitri could take care of a renSime. He'd certainly taken matters into tentacle so far, leaving Danyel to look the fool.
He shook his head no. "You've had far more experience with this sort of thing."
"I doubt it." Danyel stroked Marc's hair back from his forehead. The young man had come frightening close to killing today. Only Dimitri's quick thinking had saved him, not Danyel's. He put the young man on the sofa, careful not to disorient him and went to call. The cabbie had fled. Night was sinking on the slum faster than he cared to think about.
This was not a place for Dimitri to be out. Danyel drew his knife and rested it against his wrist. The child thief he'd once been took over, but now he could zlin. The broken window would be an invitation to the night before long. Danyel slipped into the shadows, carefully keeping the white lining of his cloak from showing.
It wasn't long before he crossed the bridge back into the good part of town. He replaced his knife and knocked on the nearest door. A matronly renSime answered, her nager going wild with surprise. Danyel flinched, holding his own as close as he could. "Hajene Ferris!"
"May I use your phone?" He felt the utter fool. Nothing had happened. Nothing bad that is. "My Donor and I found a renSime in change over and I have to call the Center." He flicked his head toward the slums.
"Certainly." She waved him in. The difference in the two homes was blinding. Magazines showing the latest daily stars were scattered over a low coffee table and pictures of "The Living Tentacles" and "Forever Selyn" were pinned to the walls. It wasn't a more expensive home, particularly, but it was the home of someone who had more in mind than repressing two small children.
"Could you turn down the television?" He dialed the number for the emergency crew.
"Certainly," the raucous concert faded to a tolerable level. Or at least one that would let him hear the other end of the line. He cupped his hand over the phone.
"Could you give me your problem and the address please?"
"Hey, Rindo," he answered.
"What are you doing on a private line, Danyel!"
"Got dorsaled into a change over."
"Why didn't you bring him in?"
"Don't ask. You'll want to bring the van. Address is 3840 eighty-ninth street." Danyel glanced at the renSime. She was zlinning him as she watched the renSimes gyrate to what some people, he supposed, called music. He didn't.
"That's all the way across the river!"
"Yeah, and my Donor is there. I'm not."
"Shen!" Rindo shouted. "Get moving! I'm coming along. See you." The phone went dead.
"You left your Donor out on eighty-ninth!" The woman grabbed her cloak.
"Hey!" He held up his hand. She bolted for the door. RenSime or no, she was fast.
"Move!" She tried to slap him nagerically. After dealing with Dimitri, it was nothing, but he moved. This was not the time to argue. "Name's Kris." She said as she locked the door.
"Danyel." He said quickly, pulling his knife back out. Her field flicked at it and then she showed him the throwing knife she had in her cloak. He winked. "Grew up there?"
"Yup," she zlinned the street. It was quiet except for the breeze in the trees and a baby's wail. This was not a bad neighborhood at all. As soon as they crossed the bridge again, it was silent, as if even the air were afraid to make any noise. Neither did they.
"Stop," he held up his nager. Three renSimes were hidden around the corner, their fields spilling over it. Only a Ferris would have zlinned it. He didn't have time for this. "Don't zlin." She didn't ask questions.
Danyel augmented around the corner and flared his field. A gun went off, the sound as loud as his nageric thunderclap. He threw himself back. A searing pain cut into his upper arm. He hissed in shock, covering the wound with his free hand. Blood already ran from the hot gash. It wasn't deep, but he knew it would hurt like shen as soon as the shock wore off.
"You're hit!" Kris didn't help, her field sending his into nightmare vibrations.
"Steady," he grabbed the ambient. She bit at her lower lip, eyes wide. The renSimes were unconscious, and so not a problem at all. He took a deep breath. He'd live. So close to transfer, his body had plenty of selyn to at least stop the bleeding. "I don't want to be here when they wake up."
"Yes, Hajene," she took off ahead of him.
"I can zlin better than you can."
"Not with an arm wound." She had her own knife out. He'd never known another Sime who'd learned weapons craft, but she held it with surprising authority. By the time they reached Lira's house, his head was spinning with shock. "You idiot Sime!" Dimitri growled, tugging him inside. "Were did you go, all the way back?"
"Not quite, Sosu." Kris snorted, zlinning around. Her nager pulled away from the unconscious Gen, as if she were poisonous. "What's a Gen doing living down here, alone?"
"She's Church of the Purity." Danyel snorted. "Probably doesn't have the money to afford anything better." He didn't mention the fact she'd been ticketed for being high field all the time anywhere else, even if not actively disruptive.
"What are you doing here?" Her field screamed. Danyel leaned against the wall. Dimitri's head whipped around. Mitka's wings snapped open.
Dimitri rolled his eyes and peeled back Danyel's hand. The motion reopened the wound. "I could have gone with you."
"What would you have done against a gun?" The floor came up to meet his butt with a thump. Now that he was no longer running on adrenaline, it hurt.
"Disabled the person holding it before they could shoot me." His eyes were dark with worry. Mitka looked over his shoulder. "Although I haven't seen one of these myself personally, be very glad I'm here and not some butcher of a Channel." He growled, putting his hand over the bare wound and his other against Danyel's forehead. "Hold still." He muttered, clamping down on the wound.
Danyel bit back a scream. It came out as a bark of shock and surprise. Mitka struck straight through Dimitri's hand, sinking what looked to be massive fangs into the wound. Ice seemed to stab all the way through his heart. Danyel stiffened, both with the pain of it and shock.
"Done," he removed his hand with a cracking, wet sound. Danyel looked to see it nearly healed, only the finest line still oozing serum. "I had to leave it open because I'm too low field to finish the job and because there's still lead and gunpowder in it. I don't want those being closed near the selyn transport nerves in your arm."
Danyel glanced at Kris. She was watching and zlinning, her eyes nearly as wide as Lira's. "Did you do that?" Lira asked, pointing at Danyel's shoulder from across the room. Dimitri looked at Danyel with the most perfect, "What do I say now?" look he'd ever seen.
Dazed, he winked at Dimitri and said. "Yes, he did, I think." His heart went out to Lira. How he wanted to take her home as he'd wished someone would have taken him home as a child. "We haven't worked together for very long."
"If I had the shirt to spare I'd wrap this, mostly for aesthetic purposes." Dimitri told him. "It should be healed well enough in a day or two I can make sure I got all the foreign matter out of it."
"How did you learn to deal with gunshot wounds?" None of the Rus had ever shown any inkling of knowing the first thing about firearms. Sure, Danyel could have murdered for Vayer's sword, but mostly because it was gorgeous, not because he thought it was an effective weapon. He'd take a gun over a knife any day. It was just shenned hard to get a permit to carry a gun in the city, and he was never allowed to carry one on Sime Center grounds.
"Sergei," his smile lit his face, not his nager. Mitka was as closed mouthed as always. Although as he zlinned, Mitka licked his lips, still staring. The effect was uncanny.
"Did it bite him?" Kris' dorsal shook like a leaf.
"Did what bite him?" Dimitri cocked his head. "I don't know what you're talking about." Mitka hid behind Dimitri's back. This had to have been a coached gesture. Although this left Mitka to his own devices. He promptly stuck his head up the cuff of Danyel's pants. It was all he could do not to yelp.
Dimitri's hand waved frantically at Mitka. "Do you require my partner to examine you?"
"No, no," her nager made the ambient squirm. Danyel was doing his level best to sit still. He gritted his teeth and put his hand on his arm below the injury, not incidentally displacing Mitka in the move. Mitka licked his lips again and tried for the other cuff. Danyel crossed his legs.
"Is there something bothering you, Hajene?" Lira's innocent question startled him. She was looking right at Mitka sitting on Danyel's chest and licking his face like a scaly, black dog! But she couldn't zlin obviously.
"Out," he hissed at Mitka under his breath. Those huge gold eyes gazed up into his. It was like kicking a puppy. He tried yanking at the back of Mitka's neck, as he'd seen Dimitri do. It jarred loose the fragile scar on his arm.
"Enough," Dimitri turned around, grabbed Mitka, and threw him at the wall. He passed right through it, vanishing without a trace. When he looked out the window next, he could see Mitka begging again, but at least this time they could pass him off as a nageric shadow. Dimitri's nager was as flat and apologetic as any he'd ever seen.
"You didn't hurt me." He reassured Dimitri, checking the long gouge on his arm. It was caked with black crud. Now he could see why Dimitri'd left it open.
"I could swear I zlinned what looked like a dragon harassing Hajene Ferris." Kris was not letting this go.
"Its a new technique. A visualization method we're using to train new Donors."
"You came out here with a new Donor?" Lira and Kris said in unison. The only reason they didn't shout was probably Marc still sound asleep on the couch.
"I'm new at being a Donor, not in healing." Dimitri washed his hands at the sink. "As you can tell."
"I couldn't have done better." Danyel hoped the ambulance would get here soon. And that it hadn't been hijacked. Sometimes, when they sent it down here, the locals would stop it in the street and draw it off to another emergency. He had to admit, as long as they stayed put, they were relatively safe.
Dimitri knelt next to the children's mother. His hand was on her brow now and he'd put his other over her heart. She looked helpless and innocent under Dimitri's huge hands, even though Danyel knew she was not. "How much longer do you think we have?"
"I don't know." He spread his tentacles. "We could be here for another five minutes or another five hours."
"I thought we had a dinner date?" He grinned.
"I'm going to go to bed when we get home." Danyel was not so Ferris he ran himself into the ground at every opportunity. He left that as an exercise for his far more illustrious kin. "Its been a long day."
"Since you haven't been to bed yet." Dimitri snorted before turning his attention back to the woman. "I don't want to keep her unconscious any long than I have to."
"Don't hurt my mama!" Lira came flying out of Kris's arms to beat on Dimitri's back again.
"No sweetheart, I won't." He told her, turning away from her mother. "I promise. Although she isn't well, either."
"How do I know you aren't bad like me?"
"Do you break your promises?"
"All the time." She looked down. "Mama says so. That's why I'm so bad."
"What kind of promises?" The calm in his voice and field was no distraction to how deftly Dimitri was drawing the child out. These were things she had to see for herself, but Danyel knew he'd not be able to do so like this.
"To be good. To keep my room neat. To not talk with bad people." With each sentence, Danyel felt his own nager grow colder. Kris' tentacles were locked hard in their sheathes. She gulped and zlinned away. "I'm bad!"
"No you're not." He brushed his hand over her straight, painfully neat blond hair. "You're a child, Lira, not perfect."
"But its wrong to break promises." Her chin was trembling she was so upset, but this time Dimitri didn't take her into his arms and hold her as Danyel would have.
"Your mother broke the promise she made to you when she carried you before you were born to love you and take care of you and never harm you." Dimitri's words struck home for Danyel as much as for Lira. "She promised to love you with all of her heart and she was too selfish to put your requirements over hers."
Lira blinked away tears, rubbing at her eyes with the back of her fist. Even still Dimitri didn't hold her.
"You can't make a real promise to someone who doesn't keep theirs, which you just told me. Your mother didn't keep her promises to you and your brother. Didn't I say I would take care of you and your brother?"
"You did." She looked at her mother, hardly breathing at all. What had Dimitri done to her? It was as if he'd put her into a coma, not just unconsciousness. "Is she going to be all right?"
"I'm going to try to teach her to keep those promises she made to you and your brother." He held up his hand before she could say anything else. "I can't promise I'll be able to. You're mother is very sick."
"Will she get better?" Lira leaned forward onto her toes. "I love my mama!"
"I know you do, sweetheart." Dimitri zlinned as if he were about to cry as well. "But sometimes love means we have to let go, too. It may turn out your mother is so sick you will never be able to live with her. Or that her illness may be her death."
"Then where will we go?" Her wail broke Danyel's heart. The ambient shattered into crystalline tears. Even Mitka was crying, now so small he could fit Mitka into his pocket, with his cards.
"Danyel and I will take care of you until we find you a home with other children to play with and a mama and papa who will love you and take care of you and keep those promises to you. And they'll teach you how to love so when you have children of your own they will grow up strong and straight."
Danyel wanted to bawl. He'd never heard anyone talk like this with a child. He'd always been afraid of hurting them. But Dimitri had told the whole truth in such a way Lira could understand it.
"Will I be able to see you when I'm with them?" Her teeth worried her lower lip.
Dimitri pulled it free, kissed his finger and touched it to her brow. "I don't live here. I'm only visiting for a few months, but I promise, when I'm here, I'll come see you when I can. I have my own work to do, little one."
"I understand." Her face fell, but now there was hope to it as well. "Could you take me back with you?"
Dimitri licked his lips, as if he were fighting back tears himself. "I don't know if you'd like it where I come from."
"Why not?" Now it was an honest, normal little girl's pout. "I want you for my papa!"
"I know sweetheart." Now he took her in his arms. "I know. But when you grew up we'd grow apart and you'd be all alone. Its better for you here." There were countless layers of other reasons beneath those, but this was what she could understand. In some ways, Danyel found it harder to deal with. Dimitri zlinned so young! As he bowed his head over the child's, his love for her rang on the ambient.
"I'll make sure you like your new family just as much as you like Dimitri." Danyel decided he might was well stick his tentacles into the mess as well. "I live here all the time. I grew up over on eighty-fifth."
"Really?" She grinned. "I have ..." Lira stopped, looking at her mother. Her whole body trembled.
"We think its wonderful you have friends." Dimitri stroked her hair. "What are her parents like?"
"Oh, they don't have lots of money like ... " she looked at Danyel out of the corner of her eye. He winked back at her. "How did you get so rich?"
He grinned. "Not the way I should have."
"Oh," she blushed, looking at her hands. "Well, my friends. She's a donor and he's a gardener, for across the river." She glanced that way, as if she'd never dreamed of going farther than the Center, if that. Danyel knew she wasn't telling all the truth. Everyone who lived down here wanted to be elsewhere. "They have this really cute little blue and white house with big roses out front." Lira kept flicking her eyes and her attention to her mother. "I'd sneak out there when mama was ..."
"Go on." Dimitri stroked her back. "Its all right. She'll never harm you again."
"How can you stop her?" Lira wailed. A muscle jumped in her mother's arm, making one finger twitch. Lira squeaked, dancing backwards.
"When, Danyel?" Dimitri turned to the woman. "I can't keep her like this indefinitely."
"I'll go zlin." Kris went to the door.
"Thank you." Danyel knelt at Dimitri's side.
"Take care of Lira." He muttered under his breath.
"I don't know how."
"Fake it."
Chapter 8
Dimitri pulled his mind away from Heri's body. He'd learned far more than he'd ever wanted to know about what she'd done to her children. "If that van or whatever it is doesn't get here soon, she'd going to be dead. She has a congestive heart disorder brought on by her lack of selyn movement."
"What?" Lira asked, peering over his shoulder.
"Because she isn't willing to give up her selyn she damaged her heart." Dimitri took her hand and put it over her mother's chest. "It should be an even, lub-dub, lub-dub."
"Its not." Her voice was full of awe. Dimitri smiled, despite the seriousness of the situation. Heri would never be able to be with her children again unsupervised. Between the lack of transfer and her psychosis, she couldn't be trusted with such a responsibility. She should have never had them in the first place. This was not a new problem. "Will she live?"
"She will, but not for very long." Dimitri hated telling anyone their loved one had a terminal disease, but with a child it was so much harder. Particularly as he was torn with wanting to rejoice in the fact she could not continue to abuse her children further. Her health would make a very convenient excuse to keep them apart. "And she'll be much healthier with complete rest."
"We're not very restful." She frowned.
"Not your fault, sweetheart." He took her hand in his. "Your joy is wonderful. Don't ever think it isn't."
"But it would upset her when we would get noisy and she'd lock us in our rooms."
"Because she was very ill." Dimitri reinforced, hoping if he said it enough it would sink in. He'd had very little experience working with damaged children. With how many caretakers most children had in Russia, it was very rare for any great harm to come to them. Not like here, where a single renGen had the raising of two active children all on her own. At first Dimitri'd hoped there had been at least someone who'd come in and helped with the household chores, but from the looks of their hands, the children had been put to work at a very early age. "It is good to play."
"We'll get in trouble." Her face shut down again.
"Not with me. I'd like to also talk with your friend's parents."
"We're here." A renSime, renGen pair stood at the door with Kris. Lira jumped up and threw herself into the renSime's arms. He tossed her up in the air and caught her, all forty odd kilos of her, even though he couldn't have weighed much more. His wife was as round cheeked and bright eyed as any Russian renGen. "Lira gave such a good description of our house Kris found it on the first try."
"It didn't hurt matters any your two boys were out climbing the rose trellis." She too had a huge smile on her face. Dimitri was just relieved. Now, where had Mitka gone this time? It would not do to have him pop up under some Sime's nose right now.
He could be such a pest. Finally Dimitri had to hunt him down by closing his eyes and feeling for him. It was like a huge game of hide and seek to his nager some days. When he opened his eyes again, Danyel was staring back at him, his hand over his breast pocket. What had Mitka found in there? He tried to ask the question with his eyes alone.
Danyel pulled out a deck of cards, with Mitka wrapped around them as if he were trying to hatch them. He put them away quickly when Mister and Missus ren returned their attention to the children. Marc was waking up and rubbing at his eyes. His tentacles came out to try to help. Mister ren sat next to him and quickly reminded him of how they worked.
Even if they'd never been together before, Dimitri could hear the click as their fields bonded. Some friendships were like that. And Marc required a friend. Lira went to Missus ren and tipped her head. "My mama's sick."
"I'm so sorry to hear that, honey." She knelt and put out her arms. When Lira had her face hidden she gave Dimitri the saddest smile he'd ever seen. She'd known what was going on and hadn't been able to do anything. "Is there anything we can do?" She asked silently.
"Love them." Dimitri watched the children bond with their new parents far faster than he would have ever dreamed possible. Usually such a fosterage situation took time and counseling. But both children were ready, Marc because of his change over, Lira, well, probably because it was time for her.
"If you could come down to the Sime Center or call tomorrow, I'd really appreciate it." Danyel, thank God, knew the formalities. Dimitri was completely out of his depth on what he could and couldn't do here. He knew the lord had to be ready to collapse, from selyn loss and shock if nothing else, but he was as bright eyed and energetic as when they'd left Kaon with Lira. Dimitri yawned and tried to hide it behind his hand. "I think we have to get someone home."
"I have to look after Heri." He put his hand back on her breastbone, the better to be able to track her vital signs. She was so fragile, he didn't dare send her so far under again as he'd done at first, when he'd expected the ambulance in half an hour, and hour at the most. It had only taken them fifteen minutes to drive here! It wasn't as if they had to hitch up the horses.
"Take care of mama!" Marc looked back over his shoulder, anguish coloring his field a bitter yellow. "I love you, mama!" Lira looked back too, her eyes sparkling with more tears. No, no matter how harsh a parent, it was hard for the little ones to go.
"I love you, sweetheart." Dimitri said silently, blowing her a kiss. His control lapsed a moment and Heri's heart stopped. He thought for a moment and restarted it. She'd not last long, but Lira should have the chance to say good bye, after she'd known what a healthy family was like for a while. "What a lats up." He sighed, when they'd passed out of earshot, Kris included.
"You want a drink stranger?" Danyel looked up at him from the other side of Heri. It felt as if they were on a death watch. The house was dark and silent without the children or Kris. Only the hissing of Heri's breath broke the silence when they didn't talk. Then Mitka crawled out of Danyel's pocket, slipped on the edge and fell onto the floor. "He actually goes thump." Danyel scooped him up in his hand.
"Yeah," Dimitri grimaced. "And I feel the bruises." He rubbed at his back. "Although why did you hide in Danyel's pocket?"
"Smelled good." He stated, curling up on Danyel's hand. "He likes me small." His tongue flicked out, like a real snake this time. Dimitri stared. He'd never done that before. "I like it like this too!" He did it a few more times.
"You aren't a dragon, you're an imp."
"You've always called me trouble." He cocked his head to the side. "Maybe that's my real name ... Trouble."
"You're an imp." Danyel rubbed the top of Mitka's head. "You are cute, too."
"I know it." He ran his teeth along the leading edge of one wing. "I'm modest too."
"Bullshit." Dimitri wrinkled his nose at his nager. "You're as full of selyn as any Sime."
"What?" Danyel asked.
"A saying," Dimitri did think he was cute so tiny. He'd always been much, much bigger. "Simes are featherheads because they're full of selyn and so can't think very well." He winked, letting Danyel know he was teasing. Instead Mitka bit him on the thumb, not very hard, but Danyel yelped and nearly dropped him.
"Please don't." Dimitri put his hand under Danyel's for a moment.
"Nope, full of blood. I could cram some more selyn in there."
"Don't." Danyel echoed him. "I have plenty at the moment."
"A Sime who doesn't want selyn?" Dimitri teased, praying the shenned ambulance would get here soon. His banter with Danyel was keeping him alert, but no matter how alert he was, Hari was failing fast. "Are you well?"
"I'm Ferris." At his dark grin Mitka flinched, nearly falling off his hand. He only kept his balance with locking his talons around one finger and flapping mightily to right himself. Danyel helped, putting his hand under Mitka's tail and lifting him back up. "He zlins so fragile like this."
"I think that's why he's never done it before." Dimitri put his hand on Hari's chest again and had to restart her heart. She was draining selyn into the boards beneath his knees at a frightening rate. "If that shenned ambulance doesn't get here soon, she's not going to make it."
"Let her go." Danyel put his hand over Dimitri's. "She's not worth it."
"She's human." Dimitri growled, grasping at straws. "Don't get in my way."
"Not after you went through a closed window."
"I wasn't wearing my glasses." He glanced up into Danyel's shocked field.
"You thought it was open!" Danyel's jaw dropped.
"Yes," he nodded. "Mitka went through it without a pause. I thought I could."
"How did you not manage to slice yourself to ribbons?"
"Old glass and I know how to go through a window if I have to. I found out in the air when it was too late to change my mind." He shook his head. "I had jumped hard enough to make it through either way."
"Dimitri!" He rolled his eyes. "You're going to be the death of me."
"What about you grabbing Marc in the middle of all that broken glass?" He was sweating with the effort of keeping Hari alive.
"You caught us."
"Only because I knew Simes did stupid things. And I had two Simes to deal with, one of them still wet from change over." His words were light, his thoughts were not. "Where's the shenned ambulance?" He was having to keep Hari's heart going all the time now. He didn't know if they had anything more sophisticated than shock paddles on the ambulance, which was what he was doing right now, more or less.
"Stop," Danyel touched his hand and got a nasty shock. He pulled his hand back with a yelp. "Dimitri, its no good."
"Check one last time." He said, knowing she'd probably not make it even if the ambulance crew arrived right now.
"All right." He went to the window this time. It was dark out, without a hint of stars or moon. But then that may have been because of the filthy outside of the windows. "No one."
"Shen and shidoni!" Dimitri swore, letting her go. How he hated to loose, even when it was someone like this. Even the meanest criminal should be allowed to tell their children goodbye. Much less what it would do to Lira and Marc.
"I think they knew." Danyel knelt at his side this time. "I've never heard a Russian swear like that."
"I'm upset."
"I can tell." His quiet, calm voice didn't match his nager. It was as dark as the night outside the windows. Anything else would have sent Dimitri into a rant. As it was, he cried. He cried the tears no one else would cry for Hari. He'd never known her, but she'd been human, as alive as any of them, and even though she'd done wrong, Dimitri had no cause to believed she'd done so out of malice, only illness. "I'll go watch for the ambulance."
"Give me some time and we'll go back." He knew Danyel couldn't cope with his grief, not like this, not when it was so raw. He'd talked with Mikhail before he'd come here, about what he should and should not do around Western channels. Grieving for an abusive renGen in a shack in the slums was not on the should do list. Dimitri pulled his head back, looking up at the ceiling. It was nearly falling in, sagging half a meter or more in the center with water stains everywhere.
"Its not like there's anything here to loot, is there?" He asked at last.
"No," Danyel shook his head. "Nothing."
"Not even a cooking knife." Dimitri scanned the kitchen earlier. There was only half a loaf of bread and a sliver of dried cheese in the cupboards. He took one of the threadbare dishcloths and wrapped the narrow edge of a long triangle of glass. How he'd managed to go through the window without cutting himself to ribbons was still something of a mystery to him. Or at least without some substantial damage. "The Gods look out for fools and healers. And I'm both." He promised himself, next time, to wear his glasses.
"Why didn't you wear your glasses?" Danyel asked, as if echoing his unspoken thoughts. Dimitri could have sworn he'd been gelded. Vanesa had been completely unable to hear thoughts until Sevrin had cleared her conditioning. Danyel was countless times more fragile than Vanesa. He'd never survive having his anti-kill conditioning ripped from him. "Is there something wrong?"
"Memories." He shook his head quickly. Dimitri rarely let his Sergei born abilities range so widely. He looked on Danyel in a new light. "Anyway. I didn't wear them because I forgot."
Danyel rolled his eyes. "I have reading glasses, Dimitri. There's nothing wrong with wearing glasses."
"They're new." He admitted with a shrug. "And right now I can see at a distance as well as you can." He nodded at Mitka. With one of those flashes of selyn, he grew through the roof. "At night, through Mitka's eyes, I can see as well as you can."
"I'm impressed." Danyel waved a hand. "After you. You're not injured."
"And I am impressed as well. You're letting a Sharm Lord go first." He slid out the door, letting Mitka point out the people on the street. There were three other families on this side, fourteen on the other. But then there was a large apartment complex on the corner. Dimitri slid behind a selyn shadow.
"You're zlinning?" Danyel hid in Dimitri's shadow.
"He is." Dimitri whispered, pointing up. Mitka was eeling through some brush and garbage in a vacant lot. When he blinked his doubled vision clear, all he could see was black haze and top of Danyel's hair. It was much better looking through Mitka's eyes, not that Danyel was hard on the eyes, but he didn't have that much interest in the back of his head. "Lets go." He walked down the cracked sidewalk calmly, every sense aware of his surroundings. Since he couldn't see to save his life, his perceptions expanded with Mitka's to study every single life source in the vicinity.
Dimitri knew some other Gens wondered what it was like to zlin. He knew one person who'd never ask was his Uncle Sevrin, or himself. Danyel was fourteen meters behind him, sneaking, the silly Sime. He wished he could mindspeak Danyel and tell him to quit drawing attention to himself. If anyone zlinned him, he'd stand out from the shadows like a sore lateral.
To cover up for Danyel's obtrusive slithering through the shadows, Dimitri whistled. A renSime peered out from behind closed blinds and then shut them quickly. Dimitri knew his nager was as distinctive as his fingerprints, but unlike them, the Sime who zlinned him would never mistake him for anyone else. Even if they didn't zlin Mitka, Dimitri himself was almost as selyn neutral as a child. In someone nearing two meters in height, this was unusual, to say the least.
So the only way he was going to not attract any more notice, was to act as if everything were completely normal. Countless people had made ghost banishing gestures at him in the markets. Dimitri didn't mind. It meant he often got good deals because the merchants were trying to get him to go away.
"Everyone can see you!" Danyel hissed.
"Yes, and I know where they all are." Dimitri shielded his off hand with his body and pointed to all the people who'd glanced out their window. "Most probably think I'm a ghost."
"You do zlin weird." His eyes were flicking back and forth across the street.
"Here, hold my hand." Dimitri took it. "Zlin the reflection in the window." They were passing by a long closed clothing store. The model people in the window made Dimitri's skin crawl. He always hated anything that mimicked the human body. Dimitri figured it probably had something to do with his talents, but it wasn't worth remembering
Dimitri stifled another huge yawn. He'd worked hard today and wanted to go home. "I want to go someplace flat and warm. Last night had not been particularly flat."
"Me too." Danyel admitted. He was tucked neatly against Dimitri's side. "I couldn't zlin me very well through your field."
"Most probably couldn't zlin you at all."
"Do you mean to make people think we're ghosts?"
"Can you think of a better way to remain unmolested?" The thought reminded him again of his undressed state. Admittedly, Sharm Lord kadors were fairly revealing, but he'd not been out in public in breeches since he'd established. Except for the one exception of his claiming. He shuddered all over.
"Something wrong?"
"Oh, remembering having almost all of the lords and Lords of Russia fighting over me."
"I can understand why."
"Not you too." He looked down at Danyel, hoping he was kidding.
"Is that how you broke your leg?"
"Yes."
Danyel nodded. His silence encouraged Dimitri to go on. There was no one within Mitka's extensive range who was at all interested in the ghosts wandering down the street. Every once in a while a Sime would poke their wrist out and then promptly vanish. Dimitri chuckled at one who actually looked before vanishing again. She was actually pretty cute. He waved.
"Dimitri!" Danyel's tentacles latched onto his arm with bruising force.
"She was cute." He protested, winking at him. "Yes, Lord Salkov broke my leg and then refused to let it be set properly. I couldn't do it myself because it required traction. He was trying to cripple me."
"After fighting for you?"
"Yes, I fought him to try to preserve my freedom." He stopped for a moment. Mitka had spotted something unusual. He pulled Danyel back against the building. A car was coming down the street. Dimitri hated the shenned things. They were dead, even if they ran on selyn. Danyel yanked himself out of Dimitri's grasp and waved to it.
"There you are!" Arkay ran up to him. Then someone put the brake on the car. "Where did you go? This is no neighborhood for you."
"I'm an adult here, Arkay." Dimitri blushed down to his toes. Danyel looked away, thank goodness. "We're fine."
"What's this about a change over?"
"He's fine." Dimitri knew he didn't sound as happy about it as he should have. "Why don't we go back and I'll tell you about it there."
"Good idea." Danyel was at his back, as if they'd trained, Lord and Sharm Lord together. "I don't like it here." The sign on the corner said eighty-fifth. His attention was on a dilapidated building, now covered in climbing ivy. Mitka came winging in out of the darkness. Dimitri turned and scooped Danyel up off his feet. The lord yelped and put his arms around Dimitri's neck. He liked Danyel here.
"Get in!" Nashen opened the door to the back seat. Dimitri was not at all adverse. Blood had been shed too many times here for his spirit not to feel it. Danyel, oddly, had his face against Dimitri's chest. He was normally so strong. What was wrong? He looked at the house again. Some of the blood shed here had been his.
Arkay was not happy about the growing relationship between Dimitri and Danyel. As far as he knew, Danyel did not prefer men and was so fragile if Mitka sneezed on him he'd die. So far the latter had certainly been proven true.
Although he'd also never seen Mitka so solicitous of any Sime's needs. He'd appeared out of Danyel's breast pocket when they'd brought the two home, only to zlin around and burrow back into it. "I'm not so sure about the two of you sleeping together."
"You aren't my father here." Dimitri had his stubborn Sergei face on. Which Arkay figured was redundant, but still descriptive. "I really want some sleep." Danyel'd been so exhausted he'd napped on the short drive back.
"I'm fine." Dark circles had appeared under his eyes. There was something he was hiding. Arkay couldn't read Danyel without possibly sending him into selynic arrest, so he raised an eyebrow and waited. "We have a date." He tipped his chin up and held out his arm.
"A date?" Arkay put on his best father look. Dimitri was far, far too young to be going out on dates by himself. "I don't know if I gave you permission to take out my son without me there."
"We don't require a chaperone." Dimitri straightened up. He was a mess. His hair was standing up every which way, his clothes were filthy and his eyes were as red as if he'd been crying. He tried to put a question into his field for Danyel alone. "I don't think we'll be late."
"You would have been later, indefinitely later, if you'd met up with that group of thugs we dispersed a block from where you were so merrily walking down the middle of the sidewalk." Nashen growled, matching Arkay's parent face.
"If they didn't think I was a ghost." He snorted. Arkay could feel him sway on his feet.
"The bar is across the street from Kaon. Its frequented by a number of channels and Donors. I'll take good care of him."
"He's so young." Arkay let slip out. It had been a late night for him as well. They'd been frantic when no one could find Dimitri. Arkay'd run every renSime at Sevrin's control ragged trying to find him. "You didn't tell us where you were going!"
"I'd expected to be home by midafternoon." He rubbed at his temple. "I haven't eaten yet today, either, otyet."
"You're not getting off the hook by reminding me you have to eat." Arkay tried to lean over Dimitri. It didn't work anymore. All he did was rouse Mitka out of his little nest. He was adorable so small. What am I doing? "Don't you dare use your talents on me, Dimitri!"
"Papa, let us go get something to eat and some sleep." He rubbed at his eyes again. "I promise, that is all we are going to do."
"I have no designs on your son's virtue, Arkay."
"I'd be relieved if you did." He snorted. It had been nearly impossible to find someone for Dimitri to even have sex with, much less transfer. Arkay'd accept a renSime at this point if they could deal with Mitka. "What I'm worried about is his getting into more trouble."
"Why don't I go get my glasses and you can talk with him?" Dimitri, of course, put his foot right in the middle of things.
"Why don't you do that?" He growled, hating to be manipulated, but wanting what Dimitri was giving him. Which was of course Sergei's gift in action. "We'll be right here until you get back."
"Let Mitka stay." He put out a hand to his nager. "I'll be right back." The love in his eyes for Mitka was undeniable. If anyone other than Vayer'd had the handling of Dimitri after his establishment, he'd have gone insane. As it was, he'd learned to love Mitka and being Gen, rather than resenting either, which would have been far easier for the young man. Mitka licked his lips and dove back into Danyel's pocket.
"You might want to think about lining your pocket with silk." He pointed to the soggy spot.
"As long as he doesn't get my cards soggy." Danyel pulled them out. Unwrapped Mitka. Put him back in his pocket and shuffled them. "No, they're fine." He continued the easy gestures. The cards were very well worn, as if Danyel regularly handled them like this. Back and forth in the fingers and tentacles of one hand. "Now, you have questions for me?"
"What were you thinking of taking Dimitri down into that hellhole?"
"I had no plans on taking your son anywhere. He decided he was going to go after a change over case with a little girl. We only found out later where it was. I know the area well. I grew up feet away from where you picked us up." His jaw was as hard as his eyes. "He's had a hard night. Give him a break?"
"By letting him go out on a date? He requires food and rest, in that order." Arkay held his field in check, but by Allah he wanted to swat this little uppity lord.
"If he slept now, he'd wake every fifteen minutes with nightmares. The change over went fine, the boy's mother was abusing him and his sister. Because the ambulance never showed up, we lost their mother. Dimitri might well feel its his fault she dies."
"Shen, Danyel," all the bluster went out of him in a rush. "Why wouldn't you say anything when he was here?"
"Because right now he needs to get fed, get stinking drunk and pass out before it all catches up with him. I've been there."
"So have I. Drugs aren't the answer."
"They are tonight. Tomorrow he'll be able to deal with it, after he's slept." Danyel's face was shadowed into a skull mask by the harsh lights in the courtyard. "Unless you have a better solution."
"He has to talk it out."
"Not tonight. He hasn't slept well in days if I don't miss my guess."
"No, you don't." He admitted. "And he's only had a handful of good transfers to get any sleep."
"Poor lad." Danyel sighed. "But I know well enough about that too." The dark lines in his face deepened. "I'll bring him home safe, Arkay."
"I don't have a lot of choice." He saw Dimitri bound down the steps three at a time. He'd grown so much since he'd established, but he still wasn't an adult. To loose a patient in such horrible circumstances was something no healer could deal with easily. "You're right. He's blocking it. Here." He pressed a few hundred marks into Danyel's pocket.
Danyel put away his cards, in his pants pocket this time. Smart Sime, Arkay noted. "Ready to go?" He held out his arm. Danyel must have learned the gesture from watching Vanesa and Sevrin. Dimitri's eyes widened at first, then he took it, just resting his fingertips against Danyel's arm. "We'll be back early, I promise."
"Oh, don't fret so, papa." Dimitri looked back over his shoulder, all bright eyed and nagered. "I'll be fine." Arkay waved, not trusting himself to say anything.
"He will." Nashen put his hand on Arkay's shoulder. "They have to grow up some time."
"Why now?" Arkay asked, watching Dimitri lean over to hear something Danyel said. Dimitri laughed. He'd dusted himself off and when Arkay thought about it he realized Dimitri hadn't put on his glasses, he'd put on his makeup. Arkay rubbed at his face. "I'm not ready for Dimitri to be dating."
"You don't have a problem with Aliana being pregnant or Tzer being bonded." Nashen dug the barbs in deeper.
"They're Simes." He said at last. True to his word, Danyel only took Dimitri as far as the bar and grill that catered to the Sime Center's staff. Arkay wondered if he could get away with staying out here and watching for them.
"You're going to be able to hear Dimitri come back in, Arkay." Nashen tugged at his arm. "Come on."
"We sleep on the far side of the building."
"Its not going to matter." Nashen sighed. "I don't normally hold much with drugs of any kind, but I think Danyel was right."
"He's a Sime."
"Not all Simes are brainless." Nashen pinched him one. Arkay didn't even yelp. "Oh, love, they'll be fine. It isn't as if the Center staff can't dump them in a wheelbarrow and push them home."
"I know." He sighed, holding Nashen's arm with both his hands. "But he's so young."
"You were so young once too."
"Yes, and I ended up with Katrina and Ilya."
"Danyel's no Ilya." Nashen snorted. "You're being paranoid."
"I know." He relented with a sigh. "But he's the baby."
"True." Nashen's field lightened. "There's so much time between him and Shanir, it seems like he was the last of the batch."
"He was the last one we raised, Nashen." Arkay felt the sharp pang deep in his soul. "Where does the time go?"
"I don't know, Arkay, my love." Nashen leaned against him, his hot Sime warmth banishing the chill of the early spring air. "I don't know."
Chapter 9
Dimitri took a timid sip of the gold liquor Danyel'd bought for him. He'd never drunk anything stronger than wine or beer. And that only rarely, with dinner. They'd ordered. Well, Danyel'd ordered for him. He knew he was in no shape to be out. As soon as he calmed down, today would catch up with him.
It was amazingly good. With the sharp taste of apples concentrated down to their essence. He let the warm liquid rest on his tongue for a moment. It was almost like breathing in a whole fall orchard at once. Dimitri closed his eyes and listened to the little clicks of the ice tap the side of the glass.
"Better?" Danyel had ordered something different. He glanced at it in curiosity. "Would you like to try some?" Danyel offered his own glass.
"Sure," the tight knot behind his breastbone was loosening up with each passing moment. The high booths were well insulated, both for sound and selyn. He tried a sip of Danyel's drink. It rasped against his throat and then warmed the rest of the way down. The sharp bitterness of grains and some sort of musky darkness balanced beautifully.
"Good." He tried to say, and then held his throat. It too had grown numb. Danyel chuckled softly, his own voice rasping. "What is it?" He managed to get out.
"Single malt scotch." He took another drink, baring his teeth afterward and exhaling sharply. "Good, no?"
"Very," Dimitri leaned against his seat. From here no one could see them at all. He set his drink on the table. Mitka wandered over and stuck his nose in it. He sneezed, fortunately not substantial enough to spray the liquor everywhere. Mitka looked up at him, his expression so dubious Dimitri chuckled. "I'm only going to have the one." Mitka still looked dubious. He curled up on the table, around the candle.
"Oh, they know me here." Danyel leaned back as well. He pulled out a cardboard box. "May I?"
Dimitri waved him on, curious as to what he was asking about. He pulled out a paper wrapped tube of tobacco and lit the end. It was very much like a cigarillo. Blue smoke drifted from his nostrils. "May I?"
"Certainly." He lit a second and handed it to him. Dimitri took a deep drag. It wasn't as sweet as the pipe tobacco Arkay and Dorityan smoked, but it was far smoother in his lungs. His head buzzed gently under the influence of the drugs.
"Thank you." Now his voice really rasped. This was not something he was going to do very often, but right now it felt wonderful. Mitka snorted again and licked his lips, as if to say, "You'd better not."
"Ah, here's our food." The renSime balanced half a dozen huge platters.
"I hope you plan on eating some of this." Dimitri eyed the arrayed dishes skeptically. He didn't know half of the dishes. What were the little triangular noodles in broth or the long skinny ones with slivered vegetables and nuts, for example?
"Some," he grinned, spearing a woodear mushroom off the nearest plate.
"Hey!" Dimitri stole one. It was very good, sauteed in a very delicate, slightly salty sauce. He loved mushrooms. He broke the bread and following Danyel's example, scooped a bit of the eggplant, carrot and mushroom mixture onto it. Surprisingly, it was a cold dish, and rather tangy.
Before he noticed what had happened, the waiter had also placed a tall mug of beer and a slender wine glass in front of his plate. Dimitri sipped at the wine in question. It was an aggressively fruity white. Not something he would have normally appreciated. When he got to the noodles in broth, it was perfect.
"Too spicy?" Danyel grinned, nabbing morsels for himself with his fork.
"No," he shook his head. It was perfect with the wine. The thin noodles were lightly spiced, with slivered almonds and cashews mixed in with carrots, squash and green beans. It wasn't a combination he would have thought of, but it was good.
Before long, the plates were clean and he leaned back with a small glass of tawny port. "Do you come here very often?"
"Not to eat, no." Danyel was drinking coffee, something Dimitri'd never heard of in a Western Sime. Although from the smell, he'd had it laced with something strongly alcoholic. "Although they do know me at the bar."
"I can tell." His head was spinning in the most wonderful way. Why had he not done this before? Although he also knew he'd pay for it in the morning, which was probably why. "What makes you so different, Danyel?"
"I'm Ferris." His dark eyes were shadowed by the back of the booth, making them even more unreadable than normal.
"No," he shook his head. Then had to stop for a moment. It was not going to be fun trying to make it back up the stairs tonight. "I meant you, not your genes."
"It does make me different."
"I know what Rels Ferris was like. You are nothing like him."
"You're drunk, Dimitri."
"I am." He took another sip of his port. "Doesn't mean I'm stupid. Only means I remember better."
"What a curse." Danyel's tentacles twined around his cup. "I'm different because my family, such as it was, was not so different from Lira's."
"Church of the Purity, you called it?"
"No," he shook his head. "She was a whore, Dimitri."
"I'm a bastard." He let his jaw tighten on the words. "And?"
"But you have parents that love you. Arkay loves you very much." A corner of Danyel's mouth turned up in a wry grin. Dimitri waved him on. "Oh, he told me exactly what I was not to do with his little boy."
Dimitri was too drunk to pound on the table. "I'm sorry."
"I'm not." Danyel put down his cup. "I learned to make my own way." He pulled out a pack of cards.
"You play?" Dimitri put all the possible meanings into the words.
"Yes," he nodded, flicking through the deck so quickly Dimitri couldn't see the cards move. Mitka raised his head to watch. The cards came out in order, in suit, across the table. He picked them up again and reshuffled. He held them out to Dimitri.
He cut them, knowing he could fog Danyel's mind and make him forget his tricks, but curious. Danyel pulled out the ace of hearts and showed it to Dimitri without looking at it.
"You know what it is." He grinned, turning it around. They weren't marked, just worn to the point where they were a bit soft on the edges. "May I?"
"Certainly." Danyel handed him the cards. They were a fraction smaller than the ones he was used to, and mass produced, but quite similar. Dimitri shuffled them quickly. Then he began sorting them, letting Mitka watch the faces for him. He let Danyel cut.
"And?" Dimitri held up the card.
"Ace of spades. I'm impressed."
"Mitka," he pointed.
"You cheat."
"I make my own rules." Dimitri handed back the cards.
Danyel knew he wasn't going to enjoy waking up. He rarely did. However, he rarely woke up with a hungover Gen in his bed. He wondered why he'd gone to sleep.
Then he rolled over and realized why. Dimitri was huddled in the corner, sobbing. "You'll be fine."
"Not the hangover." He flipped his head back so far Danyel only saved himself by augmenting. The motion did not sit well with his stomach. "Hari."
"I never knew her name." Danyel did his poor best to wrap himself around Dimitri.
"We should get up."
"Its only ...
"Four thirty three." He rolled over, putting his arm over his eyes. "I reset my internal clock yesterday. Although my body still thinks is the middle of the afternoon."
"Which is why you're so awake." Danyel yawned. They'd staggered in about closing time last night, after sitting and talking for hours at the bar. "I don't know about you, but I don't like mornings."
"Neither do I." He yawned, showing not one filling. Danyel was jealous. He hated having cavities filled, and he'd had too many of them. "I'd much rather sleep until afternoon, which I've just done, as far as my body is concerned."
"Then pity me and put me back to sleep." The simple phrase had to have hit Dimitri like a hammer to the gut. He flinched, drawing away. "Oh, Dimitri, I'm so sorry."
"Its all right." He took a deep breath. "I'll be fine."
"You're lying to me. You're not supposed to lie to your channel, at least not if you're acting as my Donor." He put his hand on Dimitri's chest. Not only was his massively built, but there was already a thick layer of muscle over his ribs, running down both sides to his hips, forming a perfect triangle. Danyel'd never seen anyone quite so obviously Gen. At least not in his bed.
"I will be." He turned those storm gray eyes on Danyel. With his wispy nager, Danyel felt himself drawn in against his will. He wanted Dimitri and knew he could never have him. Arkay'd been right to trust Dimitri to him. With this one Gen, Danyel'd never dream of touching his nager. "You look like hell, however."
"Thanks." He scrubbed at his teeth. "Is this what I get when I tell you to tell the truth? All of it?"
"If you like." He propped his head on his hand, now leaning over Danyel. "What kinds of truth do you want to hear?"
"I want to hear about yesterday." He thought he might be catching on to Dimitri's little tricks. Like changing the subject or the object of the conversation. "I want to know about Hari. Who was she? Why did she do it?"
Dimitri looked away. Mitka flew in, through the closed window, and landed on Dimitri's hip. Danyel made the mistake of glancing down and realized how young Dimitri really was. "Good morning, Mitka."
"Dark, cold, time to go back to bed." He burrowed under the covers and right under Danyel's flank. His eyes must have nearly bugged out since Dimitri grinned. "Now warm me up."
"Yes, Mitka," he stroked his scaled back, as commanded.
"I'll be back in a moment." Dimitri slid out of bed and headed for the bathroom. Danyel couldn't help but zlin. Most Donors would have put on a robe, a towel, worn something to bed. Dimitri didn't seem to care at all. And he was going to look. OK, so it wasn't the most civilized thing in the world, but he'd so rarely shared his bed with anyone in the past few years he was going to take some advantage of the situation.