Cassiel Winters 1: Sky's End (27 page)

She moves like a hunter or a ghostly hunter, floating right up to me.

“Hmmm,” she purrs. “You don’t know me, do you?” she asks, taunting me, delighted about this fact. Not so beautiful again.

I glance at Or’ic, uncertain whether I should cop to this truth.

One of her Kirs checks her with an admonishing grunt that I realize contained the word, “Aelita.” I wonder if he’s her Prime. His handsomeness is spread even, the kind that unfolds greater with each glance.

He notices my gawking and stands straighter.

I glance back at this Aelita the same moment that Kell’an steps forward, slightly blocking my view to her Prime. I’m worried Aelita will be pissed about her Prime peacocking me, but there’s something else. A seriousness in her face, which is taut.

“I want to talk to you now. Alone.”

Her language translates into perfect present tense English. I wonder what kind of species she is.

I peer up at Or’ic, wondering what he’ll say, but he’s oddly silently.

“You do not need his permission,” she scolds me. “Leave us. Everyone. NOW.”

I glance at my Kirs, thinking there’s going to be trouble, but they look to me.
Oh.
They’re pretending to let me lead.
Oh
. So I save face. How considerate.

“You may leave,” I say quietly.

I bet Kell’an could murder right now.

Finally, alone, well, alone from men, a lightness emboldens me, even with a barracuda practically stalking me. She steps around me in two graceful strides. Again, I get the sense she’s really enjoying this.

“I believe you do not yet know me. I am sifter Aelita of the Bra’sin Horde.”

“I’m Cassiel Winters,” I answer, thinking maybe there’s chance for us yet. I smile. She takes this in, unable to believe her situation, I think.

“I know well who you are. We have met before,” she adds.

I pause for a moment trying think it through. The only explanation is that we’ve met in the future, which would mean it would have been in another dimension.
Holy crap. Is this shit really happening to me?
I don’t know what frightens me more, that I leapt to the most obvious, and far out, conclusion, or that I haven’t woken up yet from this nightmare.

She leans back and moves smoothly over to a downcore. She picks up a discarded knife holster, rubs the design with her thumb, before tossing it back onto the downcore.

“I’m probably going to regret this, but something doesn’t feel right in the universes with Cassiel Winters not on her game. You know your Kirs don’t control you, right?” she asks, condemnation mixed with contempt. “As sift, you lead.”

Uh, well,
I kind of guessed this. Weird that I should feel kind of embarrassed right now.

“Sure. I guess,” I say. “It’s not like I’m here by choice,” I add, thinking, maybe, just maybe, she can help me escape.

Aelita laughs again. Then says, bored like, “That’ll change.”

“What do you mean?”

“Not important. Theoretically, I should not even be contemplating this. It is against sifter code to interfere with the future. But in this case, I am making an exception.”

There’s a sifter code? Interfere with the future? I want to ask about this but she keeps on talking. Fast.

“Believe me, this is not about me doing you any favors ever,” she says, almost to herself.

“What does that mean?”

“Let’s just say we don’t get along. Never have.”

“Well . . . maybe this is a chance to start over,” I say, meaning it. “We’re in the same boat, I presume. I mean how did your Kirs convince you to do their bidding? Threaten to murder a loved one? Break a few limbs? Together, maybe we could get out of this . . .”

I trail off. Her face is twisted in rage. She shudders, like she can’t believe what she’s hearing.

“I knew coming here, messing with the past would be risky. But to see you, like this,
cowardly
, almost makes me regret my decision. And I never regret my decisions.”

She stares me down for a moment. “Make no mistake, Fluff, I do not do their bidding. They do my bidding. I have killed hundreds of Aeon. I am the greatest sifter that ever was.”

Whoa. Power tripper
. I watch her shake with energy. She takes a deep inhalation and continues.

“Now, you obviously have no real understanding of what is at stake here. Yet. I will forgive you this suggestion of treachery this one time. But if you ever, ever, speak of such things again, I will eat you.”

My eyes bug out. She’s not kidding. Guess that’s what her teeth are for.

“Well, what are you here for then?”

“Ah, that’s better. The way it should be,” she murmurs approvingly at my bite. “I am here to give you a warning. When you find the sift, do not do what you intend to do.”

My mouth pops open.

“I find the sift?”

She rolls her eyes.

“How? Where is he?”

“If I knew how you found him, I would have found him myself, wouldn’t I?” she hisses.

“Well, what do you mean by, ‘don’t do what I intend to do’ then? At least explain what you mean!”

“I can not be more detailed than that. But when the time comes, you will understand what it is I am saying.”

I stare at her, baffled.

She sighs. “Just, whatever you think is the right thing to do, when you find the sift, just . . . I do not know, think twice about it.”

She seems almost vulnerable in this moment, stumbling over her words.

“This is still messing with the future, you know,” I say snidely.
Wow
, her attitude is contagious. “And since you have, you may as well do it properly and tell me
everything
.”

“No. No, it is not!” she says defensively. “All I have done is introduced myself and told one piece of truth you need to know.”

“Uh, no, you haven’t. What’s the truth?”

“That you are NOT always fucking right! You remember that, Fluff!”

Yep. She is definitely upset that she’s risked coming here. I suspect it’s not going as planned.

She wisps unearthly out of the room before I can stop her. I’m actually relieved she’s gone. That is, until I’m up against a wall with Or’ic’s hand around my neck. He’s holding it tight enough to make a point. My Kirs are back in the room, and not one lifts a finger to come to my rescue, naturally.

His black eyes stare into mine, possessively. I ignore the sensation this creates as he leans near my ear. “You would tell me everything that was said, or would I enter your mind and not leave until I find it. Your choice. I would give you three seconds. One . . . two . . .”

“She said I find the sift. But, she didn’t say how.”

Or’ic’s eyes widen a smidge. Then they narrow.

“And?”

Damn. I thought this information would be enough.

“She would not come here to tell you just that! I would start to count again, one . . . two . . .”

I don’t want him in my mind. No way. And I’m confused and disturbed about what Aelita said anyway. What harm could it do?

“Apparently, I need to second guess my actions when I find the sift. I think she was trying to change the future without changing it. She’s left me a riddle, okay?”

He pauses there, holding me against the wall, thinking about it. I squirm, to remind him I’m still pinned, and he releases me.

I touch my neck lightly. Jerk probably brought back my nearly faded bruises. I glare at him. Then at the Kirs.

“You know what?”

Pers’eus tries to shsh me but I ignore him. “You all need to start treating me nicer! As sift, I command you!”

This does not have the effect I hoped. Kell’an laughs. I’m about to get red in the head, when Or’ic steps into my line of vision.

“Sifter Aelita earned her role as leader. You have not.”

And I never will because I don’t want it!
I want to shout at him. But I stop myself in time. He needs to think I’m going along with him. Remember:
You
are playing
him
. I try real hard to smile at him. It hurts my face muscles. He looks at me funny.

I need to escape to the privy for a while, to calm down so I can sleep tonight, or I could really screw up tomorrow and part of me really doesn’t want that. I deliberately shoulder Kell’an as I pass by.

Chapter 25

I wake up from another dream, raw. I can’t recall anything in particular. Just my unsatisfied desire lingers. I inhale sharply and curl my knees up as I lie on my side. What in the Jupiter’s wrong with me? I mean, I’ve got a decent libido, but this is just wild. I almost whimper out loud for the agony of facing another sleepless night miserable, pent up.
I need sleep before my test! Don’t think about it, that will just keep you awake.

An unusual sound catches my attention. I lift my head up slightly. It’s Onegin, in his downcore, angled horizontally at the foot of mine, his back to me. He’s twitching, kind of . . .

“Onegin,” I whisper.

He freezes.

“Leave him,” warns Or’ic from the downcore on my left side.

Lying down doesn’t diminish Or’ic’s physique, which I just make out in the darkness. He’s wearing some loose pants and nothing else. His long, sinewy arms are splayed wide, hands behind his head.

“Something’s wrong with—”

“No.”

“You’ve got to do something about her!” growls Onegin, scaring me up onto my elbows.

“What’s he talking about?” I ask, holding the sheet to my chest. I have on a thin dress that reaches my knees, which I sleep in for more coverage in case someone rips off the sheet again. They’re all fascinated by my elaborate bedtime ritual of wrapping myself mummy-like in my sheet (after changing in the privy) while a Cinarie brushes out my hair and massages creams into my hands and arms. I tolerate the gawking by telling myself it’s not a sexual thing so much as a result of having never spent any time around women.

My question’s met by silence. I take in the Kirs around me. Pers’eus’s sitting at attention near the door. He’s on the first half of night watch. Kell’an’s lying down on my right. I have to twist around to look at Shadon on his downcore at the head of mine.

They all lay there. Motionless. Eyes wide open. Not looking at me.

“What does he mean?” I ask Or’ic more forcefully.

He glances at me and looks away.

“Tell her or I will,” says Kell’an, surprising me with his tone.

This is really unlike Or’ic, not to respond.

“You need to calm yourself,” he offers. In the dim light, his eyes look like two black orbs staring up at the ceiling.

“I’m not upset. I only thought maybe Onegin—”

“You need to resolve yourself,” Onegin snaps.

Resolve myself? “I don’t understand . . .”

“Your pheromones,” says Kell’an sharply. “They are particularly potent these past few days. You are in heat.”

Heat?
“I am not!”

“Be quiet,” hisses Pers’eus.

“Yes, you are,” says Onegin loudly. “I have not slept these past two nights. The scent is . . . intoxicating, infuriating . . .”

Pers’eus butts his gun against Onegin’s downcore, a warning to keep his voice down.

Suddenly I realize what I caught him doing.
Oh.
How can they sense that? How could he . . .? Oh, no, no, no, no, no.

“This is not happening,” I whisper quietly to myself, leaning up, getting ready to escape to the privy again for a while.

“Humans,” I hear Or’ic pipe in. He grabs my arm, holding me in place. “It is natural for your body to announce it is fertile.”

I tug at his grip. Did he actually just say
fertile
? He won’t let go.

“I would offer you some consolation, Cassiel.”

I pause, barely able to make out his handsome face in the dark.

“Thell’eon males give off much stronger pheromones than human males. It is biological. A result of our need to make our females attracted to us.”

“Ha!”

He’s surprised by my outburst, and so am I.

“Shh,” warns Pers’eus.

Finally! A reasonable explanation for why I’m so attracted to him at times. It’s only lust.
Thank the stars!

Or’ic continues. “Our pheromones are amplified yet again when we smell yours, especially when sleeping so close. It is something we did not anticipate.”

“Then you guys have to sleep somewhere else!” I whisper as loudly as possibly.

“No!” Onegin, Or’ic, and Shadon say in unison.

“We can not leave you unprotected here,” adds Kell’an.

“Well, let’s go back to the ship then!”

“No. The Order will not allow that,” says Kell’an.

“Keep your voices down!” Pers’eus commands.

Silence.

“There is another way,” adds Kell’an quietly.

Oh, this ought to be good.

“Relieve yourself,” he says.

“What?” Is he talking about what I think he’s talking about? “You can’t be serious!” I add for good measure.

Silence.

I recognize that this need in me is like nothing I have ever experienced. An intense ache. A compulsion.

A hindrance.

The lack of sleep could hurt my performance tomorrow. But, seriously?

I couldn’t. No way. I lie back down, sighing out loud.

It will pass. No. It won’t.

I
could
do it in the privy. But then they would know what I’m doing. I just can’t. Really. Not with all of them lying right here, listening.

But already the gnawing sensation returns. I’m sleeping in a soup of horny hormones. There’s no ignoring it, never mind the awkwardness now that it’s out in the open.

Am I actually contemplating this?

Before I can figure this out for myself, Or’ic grabs me by both arms, pulls me off the downcore and hauls me to the tiny privy. I’m too shocked to react. I trip over the sheet that comes with me, and he angrily yanks it away from my legs. He crams me in, despite my ardent protests, and before I can spin around the door has shut with him inside.

He’s rammed right up behind me.

“What are you doing—”

His hand covers my mouth, the other my waist, forcing me to put my hands against the wall. His grip on me is firm, but not so hard I couldn’t shake him free. Something stops me from me doing so. Apparently I’m letting my lower half do all of the deciding.

His big, broad back hunches over me, the heat warming me.

His face is in my hair and he inhales deeply. “I would help you,” he whispers against my ear. “Please. Let me,” he adds softly.

I shake my head quickly, whimpering a muffled “no” in his loose hand. I can’t do whatever he thinks I should do. Is he crazy? But already the familiar pangs spread down there. A need that starts somewhere in my mind and persists on course despite all reason.

“Cassiel, we need to sleep, for the contest,” he whispers in my ear. “You need to sleep. I need to sleep.”

Of course I want release, so I can sleep, which is why I’m not struggling. Not really.

Truthfully, I’ve never wanted anything more.

I’m scared by what that might mean.

It’s him
. He does this to me.

He must sense that I won’t fight him because he removes his hand from my mouth and strokes my hair. I sense the tension in him, the struggle to contain his desire. It floods back to me from symbiosis.

“Just do what you need to,” he whispers again in my ear. “Whatever you need, anything you choose.” His hoarse voice trails off as he rubs his face next to mine.

The stubble on his cheek grazes my skin. He inhales deeply, burying his face in my hair again. I realize all at once that I’m pressing back against him. I feel him, ready, behind me. Fear sets in and I step away, standing flat against the wall, but he shadows my moves perfectly. I spin around and face him. He lets me.

“No, Or’ic, I . . .”

Why bother?
I stare at his mouth. I’m defenseless against my own raging hormones. My entire body is tingly. My pulse racing. Lightheaded.

When I finally risk a look into his eyes, something extraordinary occurs. What, exactly, I don’t know. Like I’m lost in him. Like I
want
to be lost in him.

He waits. His lips are inches from mine.

I hope he gets it. That I want him to, even though I don’t want him to.

He gets it.

The touch of his lips is sensuous, possessive. Exactly perfect. A thousand times better than symbiosis.

He lingers for few moments, and kisses me again, slowly, possessively.

Tenderly.

This surprises me the most.

I decide that I very much like him this close to me, the shape of his lips against mine, the heat of his breath against my face. Just for another second or two.

I inhale deeply and anticipate deeper, harder, wetter kisses. But instead, he kisses me tenderly all around my mouth, glancing deeply into my eyes a few times. I thought he didn’t know how to kiss . . .

The sensation’s so wonderful I let myself go. And I love the idea of giving over. He’s so different this way.

I run my hands lightly down his bare back and inhale deeply. My need is pulsating, threatening to undo me.
Who am I? Who is he?

His hands run down my dress and draw up the fabric while he grasps my thighs.

“Cassiel, show me how to please you,” he whispers between kisses, running his tongue down my neck.

I gasp, and a sound of pleasure comes out. This excites him, and he presses hard against my stomach. I can’t imagine how it would ever fit but I wipe that from my mind. I will not go there. His fingers kneed the backs of my thighs and then move to my bare bottom, which he gropes hard.

A moment of embarrassment comes and goes. He makes a rumbly soft sound. Harder than a groan. His kisses are harder against my neck
. Did he just bite my neck softly?
Mmm, biting is good.
His excitement excites me.

Why am I fighting myself? I need, no, I want, to ‘relieve’ myself.

I can’t stand on this . . . precipice . . . endlessly.

After one final moment of indecision, I choose the safest route, moving my hand down between my legs and really let myself go.

The relief’s temporary, already my body demands more.

He freezes momentarily, maybe surprised, but wastes no time. His hand covers mine, clumsily following the moves. He wants to take over but I won’t let him. He grabs my waist and presses himself harder into me.

I’m building up so quickly. He moves his free hand over my mouth ever so lightly and whispers “shh” in my ear.
Am I moaning out loud?

I know it won’t be long. I’m breathing heavy and trying really hard to not make any sound against his deep, probing kisses. I barely murmur, “I am . . .” when his finger slides into me. The ultimate quickening catches me, holds me, in tremulous bliss. I move on him, wanting him there, not wanting him there, wanting him there more than anything. I can tell he’s watching me, but I don’t look at him.

I only regret that it’s over.

But now he’s relieving himself, holding me tight to him, thrusting so hard against my stomach it hurts a bit. I sneak a glance and know that his silent, sexy grimace, his look of yearning and something else I’ll never understand, will be forever burned in my mind. After a really long moment, he collapses against me with almost his full body weight. We’re both breathing heavy.

I can’t believe I just did that.

Shock is giving way to . . .

Hastily, I push his hand away.

“Do not!”

His black eyes look boldly into mine and I’m surprised to find the pending shame passes.

He’s right. It’s no biggie. Nothing, really. Best to approach it this way to save any awkwardness. I nod.

Just a little stolen pleasure. Vital, really, given the circumstances. It’s their damn hormones that are to blame. Why else would I have done . . .?

King.

I inhale sharply, then double over slightly, as though the wind has been knocked out of me.

Or’ic is making to turn us around when I push him hard, suddenly wanting out of this space more than anything. I can’t breathe.

“No,” he says, grabbing my arms. “They need time yet,” he whispers.

I look up, realizing what he’s saying, not caring one nano if they are still diddling themselves. Since when did they, or he, give a crap about privacy!

Tears well up. I’m overwrought with guilt.

“What is it? What is wrong now?”

“I . . . ” Tears well up in my eyes and roll down my cheeks. I swallow hard.

“I have betrayed someone,” I say quietly, anguished.

He stiffens. His face grows cold.

“No. You did not,” he says with an edge I’ve not yet heard in his voice. “This was a physiological necessity. Nothing more.”

I gasp. Staring into his eyes, he clearly believes his own words. He has cut me in a new way.

“That makes it even worse,” I say, breathless.

He looks confused.

All at once I recall his words.
We need to sleep.

He only did this for that reason.

“You are too emotional. You must gain control over yourself,” he mutters.

I didn’t think I could feel anything else today, but apparently I was wrong. How dare he brush off what happened? He’s responsible for this disaster.

“Tell me something, how would you feel if I took each of your Kirs in here and did the same thing with them one by one? Hmm? Who should be first? Maybe Kell’an. He’s really hot.” I wrestle with Or’ic as though I intend to act on my threat.

An angry look sweeps across his face. He grips harder.

“Ow. You’re hurting me.”

“You would not!”

“But if I did, how would you feel?” I stare into his face, twisted in a bitter grimace.

He says nothing. He would never admit the truth.