Devoured: Brides of the Kindred 11 (4 page)

“I would never—”

Pierce slapped her hard across the face.
Her head rocked back with the force of the blow and her ears rang.

“Oh!”
Tess put a hand to her cheek, tears springing to her
eyes. Her face felt puffy and swollen. She licked her lips and tasted blood—her
bottom lip had split and was already swelling.

“Now, look what you did.” Pierce shook his
head sorrowfully. “Why did you make me punish you on our anniversary, Princess?
Now your pretty face is all messed up and we can’t go out.”

“I…but I…” The tears in Tess’s eyes now
were not just pain but rage. It wasn’t just the hurt he’d inflicted—it was the
disappointment. She hadn’t been out of the house except to work and for a
single weekly trip to the grocery store in months. Pierce had been building
their “special anniversary date” up to her for ages—telling her how good the
food was at the restaurant he’d picked, promising her the best bottle of wine
they had on their list.

But it wasn’t just the food or wine Tess
wanted—she had dared to hope that they might get back to their old
relationship—the one they’d had back when they were dating.

Back to the time when she felt more like a
princess than a prisoner.

“Why do you do this?” she burst out,
before she considered how unwise it was. “Why do you act like such a…such a
bully?”

“A bully, hmm?” Pierce’s green eyes were
suddenly flat and cold.

Shark’s
eyes,
Tess thought.
More trouble coming…
But still she couldn’t stop herself.

“You never treated me like this when we
were dating,” she went on. “You were sweet and kind…you said…you said you
loved
me. And I’m such a stupid fool I
believed you.”

“Is that right?” Pierce stood suddenly,
towering over her. Tess tried not to cower from his huge form but it was hard
not to be frightened.

“Yes, that…that’s right,” she said, lifting
her chin.

“Well here’s something else you’d better
believe, Princess,” he snarled, his eyes narrowed to slits of green rage.
“Fucking your little whore gash made me hungry. And if you don’t get in the
kitchen and make me a sandwich
right
fucking now,
you’re going to get a lot worse than a slap across the face.”

Tess jumped up, putting the bed between
them.

“I’m sick of this—you never intended to
take me out, did you? You probably didn’t even make a reservation!”

“You little
slut
…” Pierce was around the bed in a flash. Though she tried to
run, he had her by the throat almost before she could blink. “Don’t antagonize
me, Princess,” he ground out, glaring down at her while Tess choked and gasped
for air. “You know how
upset
I get
when you antagonize me.”

“Let…let me go,” Tess wheezed.
“I’ll…I’ll…”

“You’ll do what?” Pierce sneered, finally
releasing her. “Call the police? I
am
the
police, Princess, remember? And don’t forget, even if you do call out some of
my brothers in blue, who are they going to believe—a well respected detective
who’s been decorated twice for bravery? Or a crazy lady who calls 911 with a
bunch of false alarms?”

“You…you made me…you…” Tess shook her head
helplessly. Pierce had tricked her several times into calling 911 for no
reason. He’d woken her up in the middle of the night claiming there was a fire
or someone breaking in. Tess had made the call but when the authorities came,
there was nothing to see. Pierce had told them she had mental problems and was
just seeking attention.

The ruse was Pierce’s way of making sure
no one who had any kind of authority would ever believe anything she said and
it had worked. Tess knew no one would believe her if she called and said her
twice decorated police detective husband was beating her. She was trapped.

Abruptly her rage turned to despair and
Tess crumpled to a heap on the floor. How could he be like this? How could the
perfect, loving marriage she’d envisioned have changed into this living hell
where any little incident could turn into a twisted war of pain and rage and
hurt? How could she live like this?

How could she escape?

It wasn’t the first time the thought had
crossed her mind but this time it lingered, whispering enticingly of freedom.
Of a life where she didn’t have to feel like she was walking on eggshells every
second of the day. Where she didn’t have to worry about being beaten if she
cooked the roast too much…or not enough…or didn’t serve it exactly at 5:45 on
the dot.

As though reading her mind, Pierce leaned
down and shoved his face into hers.

“Don’t even think about it,
Princess—you’re
mine
. And I never let
go of what’s mine.” He pulled her to her feet and shook her once, roughly, for
emphasis. “Now go make me that sandwich. But first take off that slutty whore
dress. I’ll burn it later.”

Chapter
Six

Tess shook her head, trying to clear the
awful memory. Her eyes were wet but she blotted them quickly on the back of her
hand. God, Pierce really was a complete and total
bastard
. Why had it taken her so long to get away from him? Probably
because she had stupidly believed him when he’d promised he had changed. But
not anymore. Not after he…but she pushed the thought away, unwilling to examine
the painful memory of what Pierce had done to finally drive her away for good.

“I’m free of him now.
Free
. And I’m never going back.” Tess lifted her chin. “Which is
why I’m wearing
this
.” She twirled in
the black lace dress she’d borrowed from the Pairing Puppet. “It’s kinda
naughty, don’t you think, Pinky? A lot naughtier than that stupid dress that
set Pierce off. Not that it matters—you and the rest of the girls are the only
ones to see me. No “horny guys” up here.” Tess laughed. “Well, not for
me
anyway. You girls all have your fair
share of them.”

Pinky ignored her and went to the refrigerator
unit. She took out a protein pack the same way Blondie number five had, and
downed it in three swallows. Then she reached for another.

“That’s right, girlfriend—have to keep up
your figure. Although how you manage to stay plus sized on a diet of that pure
protein gunk I have no idea.” Tess shuddered. She had tasted some of the liquid
goo which was the puppets’ only food once out of curiosity. It was bright blue
and completely bland with a thick, greasy consistency that reminded her of
motor oil.

As Pinky finished her breakfast and left
the kitchen, another puppet came out of the recharging area. It walked with a
lurching gait that made Tess think of the old Frankenstein movies she’d see as
a kid. It nearly ran into her on its way to the refrigerator unit.

“Whoa, Barbie!” Tess stepped hastily out
of the way and frowned as the puppet fumbled clumsily for a protein pack. “Hey,
are you okay? You’re not looking so good,” she murmured, coming closer to
examine the artificial girl.

Barbie, who had long, golden blonde hair,
wide blue eyes, and improbably big breasts, looked exactly like the doll Tess
had played with as a child. She was also looking a little worse for wear this
morning.

“What’s going on with you?” Tess said,
staring at the puppet. “Had a rough night?”

Barbie didn’t respond. Instead she grabbed
a protein pack and lifted it to her mouth. Tess saw her slender fingers
contract but apparently she squeezed the pack much too hard. The thick protein
mixture shot out, coating her face with a dripping layer of blue slime.

“Ugh!” Tess jumped back, trying to get out
of the line of fire. “That’s some grip you’ve got there, Barbie. I’d hate to be
the Kindred who picks you today.”

Barbie blinked owlishly, her wide blue
eyes staring blankly from the bright blue slime mask she now wore. She disposed
of her used protein pack and started to head for the parlor.

“I don’t think so.” Gently, Tess
redirected her, nudging the puppet by her skinny shoulder blades back towards
the recharging closet. “Why don’t you spend the day in there?” she murmured as
the puppet went back to her spot on the wall. “I’m sure they must send
maintenance around sometime. You better just rest until they come. Otherwise
I’m afraid somebody’s going to get hurt.”

The old fashioned wall clock in the parlor
chimed and more Pairing Puppets disengaged from their silver three pronged
claws and filed out of the recharging room. Tess stepped out of the way and
watched as they downed their protein packs and moved into the parlor to await
their Kindred clients.

It was still early in the morning so there
was no one to service yet. In fact, it only really got busy in the late
afternoon and evening, probably because that was when most of the warriors got
off work—whatever it was they did for work here on the Mother Ship.

Tess made her own breakfast, picking a
cube at random to put in the silver microwave looking machine. She had been
trying a lot of new foods since she’d been up here. Some of them looked weird
and some were disgusting but on the whole, they tasted pretty good. Although
she wished she could have an old fashioned plate of pancakes or a cheeseburger
occasionally, she generally enjoyed all the new tastes and textures of the
alien food.

When she finished breakfast, she cleaned
up carefully and went into the parlor to find a book. Di may have been joking
when she suggested that Tess “catch up on her reading” but that was exactly
what she was doing.

She looked for
Pride and Prejudice
in the bookcase, but it was missing. Doubtless
one of the puppets had it, staring sightlessly at the pages, waiting to be
called to service.

Tess sighed. “Okay, who’s got my
P&P?”
She went around the room,
checking book titles until she found the slim, leather bound volume in Pinky’s
lap. “Sorry, girlfriend, but Mr. Darcy’s wasted on you. Here—have this one
instead. It’s about a guy who locks his crazy wife in the attic—I’ve had enough
of that kind of crap to last me a lifetime.” She was about to replace
Pride and Prejudice
with a copy of
Jane Eyre
when footsteps sounded on the old
fashioned wooden porch outside.

Oh no!
Tess froze, both books clutched in her suddenly
nerveless hands. The door to the kitchen—and safety—was way across the room.
But she couldn’t be caught in the open—she had to get out of here!

Dropping the books in Pinky’s lap, she
rushed for the swinging door—only to find it blocked.

Barbie was standing right in the doorway,
her face still dripping blue goo. She seemed to be trying to step over the
threshold into the parlor but she was stuck for some reason with one foot
raised.

To Tess, the puppet looked like someone
about to attempt a martial arts move.
The
kicking crane or something like that,
she thought wildly. Either the
circuits in Barbie’s robotic brain were misfiring or her mechanical joints were
locked up. Whatever the case, she was filling the doorway with her hourglass
figure, not leaving even an inch for Tess to scoot past.

“Move, Barbie,” she muttered, pushing at
the puppet’s perfect torso. But though they were soft flesh on the outside, the
Pairing Puppets’ skeletons were solid metal. Barbie didn’t budge so much as an
inch. She just kept standing there with her face dripping blue and her foot
raised high, like she was about to stomp a roach or start doing the Mexican Hat
Dance.

The footsteps sounded outside again—louder
this time as though whoever was out there was getting closer.

Don’t
panic—it’s really early. Maybe whoever’s outside is just passing by. Maybe they
won’t even come in,
Tess told herself
wildly.

The doorknob began to jiggle.

Making a quick decision, Tess jumped for
the other side of the room again. There was still a seat open beside Pinky.
Grabbing a book at random from the Pairing Puppet, she plunked herself down
hastily on the couch and opened it.

Then she stared down, her heart pounding,
as the front door opened and a tall Kindred with black hair walked into the
parlor.

* * * * *

Garron forced himself to enter the house
at last. As always, the faint odor of grease and metal met him, making him
wrinkle his nose in disgust. He almost turned right back around again. But
something stopped him.

There was something different this time. A
new scent he could swear he’d never smelled before. And yet…it seemed somehow
familiar. It was sweet and fresh and above all feminine. Delicate and faint, it
was almost overpowered by the stench of the Pairing Puppets, yet it drew him
like a magnet.

But where was it coming from?

He looked up and down the long, narrow
room lined with couches. The puppets were all sitting there, staring down at
their Earth books, as they always did until someone spoke to them. Only one was
standing and it appeared to have something wrong with it. Its face was blue and
it seemed frozen in place, with one foot lifted.

Garron wondered what the problem was, but
the fresh, faint scent kept teasing his nose and it clearly wasn’t coming from
the malfunctioning puppet. He quickly lost interest in it and went back to
scanning the room, looking for the source of the enticing aroma.

Where
is it coming from? Which one is it?
Whatever
puppet was exuding that delicious scent was the one he wanted. He could feel
his blood boiling and already he was hard as a rock under his tight black
flight trousers. He didn’t care what she looked like—he had to have her,
whoever she was.

But how to find her?

Closing his eyes, Garron inhaled deeply,
letting his incredibly sensitive sense of smell do what his eyes could not—pick
out the girl he was seeking. He found the faint strain of lovely, feminine
scent and followed it blindly, turning until he knew which direction it was
coming from. He took one step forward and then another. When he opened his
eyes, he was standing in front of a couch which held two puppets.

Both had lovely full figures, which was
nice since Garron preferred a female that wasn’t too skinny. One of them had
carefully styled hair that was a strange reddish shade of blonde and wide blue
eyes which came up to meet his when he stopped in front of her.

“Yes, warrior?” she asked in a high,
mechanical voice. “How may I service you?”

Garron frowned and leaned down to sniff
her. He withdrew, his nostrils wrinkling, when the faint scent of oil and metal
met his nose.

Not
her.

So it must be the other puppet—a short,
plump girl with pale, porcelain skin and long reddish brown hair that fell in a
thick curtain around her face. Garron couldn’t see what color her eyes were
because she was still staring down, apparently concentrating on the book in her
lap.

“You,” he said roughly, tapping her on the
shoulder.

The puppet flinched—or seemed to. It must
have been a glitch in her programming that caused it because Garron had never
seen one react that way. Slowly, she looked up.

“Y-yes, warrior?” Her voice was a soft,
lovely alto that made his cock surge. “What…what can I do for you?”

Garron stared at her. Her eyes…why did
they look familiar? They were dark pools, fringed thickly with black lashes and
filled with some emotion. Was it…fear? But that was impossible—Pairing Puppets
didn’t feel. Probably it was a trick of the light. Or maybe a different kind of
programming.

He leaned closer and inhaled, drawing her
scent deep into his lungs. Yes, this was her all right—the girl the delicious
aroma was coming from. The scent was so complex—he could even smell notes of
uncertainty in it. Was this more Kindred technology at work? Maybe a way to
make the warrior feel like he was pursuing the girl instead of the other way
around? If so, it was working. He felt his cock harden even more in his
trousers and the forbidden urges surged to the forefront of his mind.

“Stand up,” Garron commanded the puppet,
his voice hoarse with need. “Let me look at you.”

The girl set her book aside with hands
that seemed to shake. Slowly, she rose, displaying herself for him, just as he
had commanded.

Garron sucked in a breath at her beauty.
She had full breasts and wide, curving hips that filled out the black lace
dress she wore nicely. Her long, thick hair trailed down her back like silk and
her soft, pink, kissable mouth trembled almost like a real girl’s.

But it was her scent as much as her
appearance that drew him. There wasn’t even a hint of the oil and metal stink
the other Pairing Puppets always had. Her lovely feminine aroma bewitched him
completely until he almost felt like the girl was seducing him, though she did
nothing but stand there, looking down at her hands and biting her lush lower
lip in a way that was distractingly erotic…and distinctly
un
-puppetlike.

Though he found them enticing, her
mannerisms bothered him. Garron frowned, trying to think past the bewitching
scent. She didn’t
smell
like a puppet
and she didn’t seem to
react
like one
either. Why was that?

“Who are you?” he demanded, staring at
her.
“What
are you?”

“Just…just a P-pairing P-puppet, warrior,”
the girl stuttered, her pale cheeks going bright red. “I am…I am new here.”

“A new model, you mean?” Garron demanded.

She nodded eagerly. “Yes! A…a prototype.
I…have not been here long.”

That
explains it.
The sweet, fresh
scent, the Puppet’s seeming modesty… it all made sense now. Not that Garron
wanted to spend much time thinking about it. He had finally found a Pairing
Puppet he could bear to use—in fact, he found he couldn’t
wait
to use her.

But not just
use…
he wanted to caress every inch of the creamy, pale skin he
could see under her thin black lace gown. Wanted to stroke the soft waterfall
of silky hair away from her delicate features and decipher the color of those
bewitching, dark eyes. Wanted to raise her skirt and stroke and scent and most
of all
taste
her sweet sex…that most
forbidden activity that his people, the Rai’ku, considered taboo and illicit…