Raashh Decisions (Xxan War Book 3) (21 page)

With Sandy’s scent permeating the nest, it would be impossible to track her that way. There were no sounds of her moving around or splashing in the pool. The air was still, save the currents the fans created.

She can’t have left the apartment. I would have heard the elevator or the fire doors.
“Sandy?”

There was no reply, and his heart pounded in preparation for battle. “Sandy?” Arren came up off the bed and marched through the nest.

The bathing chamber was empty, as was the attached arboretum. The library and living room were dark and still. Then he saw her, lying on the kitchen floor, her hand resting on a bowl.

“Sandy!”

There was no response. Arren bolted to her side, terror driving him. Had she slipped and fallen? Were her injuries serious?

He ran his hands over her body, looking for blood, broken bones, and bruising, but there didn’t seem to be any. The blood on her fingertips confused him for a moment. The pungent smell of spice explained it.

Meat. Z’haahn.
The bowl was empty, and he furrowed his brow at the calculation that she’d eaten enough meat to feed him for a day in a single sitting.

Then fell asleep on the floor. Deeply asleep.

She must be bearing.

Arren didn’t attempt to wake her. Sleep and food were very important to bearing women.

Instead, he lifted her and carried Sandy to the bed. A wet cloth from the bathing pool took care of the blood on her hands and chin. That accomplished, he slid into the bed with her and covered them both with the silk sheets.

His gaze lingered on his sleeping mate. Sandy was beautiful.

And bearing. For me.

****

The scent of spiced meat brought Sandy to consciousness. She smiled up at Arren and rumbled out “Good morning.”

“Are you hungry?” he asked.

She was. “Ravenous.”

He chuckled and settled on the bed, depositing the platter of food between them. Sandy pushed to sitting and looked down at it. The contents confused her.

“Sandy?” he asked.

“You don’t normally assume I want to eat your food.”

“Don’t you? I’ll make you anything you want. Or get it, if we don’t already have it in the pantry. Name it, and it’s yours.” There was an urgent undertone to that.

Sandy plucked a cube of warmed meat from the tray. “No. I want this.” Her mouth watered at the scent. She popped it in her mouth and chewed.

Arren had the next cube at her lips a heartbeat after she’d swallowed the first. She opened her mouth to question him, and Arren eased the cube in. He waited for Sandy to start chewing before he spoke again.

“You must let me know immediately when you are hungry, day or night. You must eat as much as you can.”

Sandy nearly choked at that pronouncement.

Arren rubbed her back tenderly and kept talking. “I will prepare all your food for you. If you crave anything, I will provide it as soon as possible.”

Crave?
“Are—”

He raised another cube of meet. “You must sleep whenever you feel tired.”

“Arren! Am I… Am I pregnant?”

“You throw all the signs of it. If I am correct, I will be able to scent it within the week.” He motioned with the meat, seemingly ordering her to take it.

Sandy complied, though her stomach was squirming in excitement.

Arren smiled a brittle little smile. “Please, do not try to feed yourself again.”

Her cheeks heated at the memory of her late night snack, and she swallowed the bite in her mouth. Arren offered another. Sandy took it and started chewing.

“Cold meat could give you cramps and cause you to vomit. And you could be injured if you fall asleep unexpectedly.”

She swallowed the meat and raised her hand to motion for a moment without one so she could talk. He paused and nodded her on.

“How can we work, if this is the way pregnancy progresses? I can’t do mine, and you—”

“The same way Daveed and Joy did,” he crooned. Arren caressed her stomach, a smile curving his lips.

The motion made her feel weak and sleepy. “And that is?”

“A bed in my office and food stores on hand. I may engage a Xxanian service to provide several shifts of food for us.”

“Nothing will get done,” she complained.

“Everything will. You don’t need to worry about anything.”

She believed that. Something told Sandy that Arren intended to take care of everything she needed or wanted.

Chapter Nineteen

Four days later

Arren looked up in surprise at Sandy’s dipping head. He vaulted from his desk chair and lifted her from hers. She was asleep before he deposited her on the bed.

Stars take it! She pushes too hard.
Sandy was more than willing to eat whenever their young one demanded it, but she refused to stop working to sleep.

Of course, she ate and slept more than he’d been told was normal for women in their first month of pregnancy.
Certainly more than Daveed said Joy did. This is more indicative of the final month than the first.

Arren considered his options and came to the one he’d hoped to avoid. If this was a Xxanian anomaly he’d never heard of, his
seir
would know it.

He ambled to his desk and picked up the phone, cursing himself for failing as head of his own nest.

Daveed’s personal assistant picked up on the first ring. “Mr. Raashh’s office. How may I help you?”

One Mr. Raashh.
He swallowed down his frustration. “Is Daveed in, Mallory?”

“Good afternoon, Mr. Raashh. Yes, he is. I’ll get him on the line.”

I’d rather leave a message. As usual.

Coward!

For that matter, why is she putting me through?
To his knowledge, Mallory had orders not to interrupt Daveed’s work for anything but an emergency.

This
is
an emergency.
“Thank you, Mallory.”

Two clicks were followed by soft music that he understood humans found soothing. In his irritated state, Arren found it anything but.

He stared at Sandy, reminding himself that this was necessary.

“Problem, Arren?” Daveed’s voice came without warning, startling Arren.

“I need to see Raashh.”

“You know where he is. If you haven’t forgotten, I mean.”

Arren bit back a dozen sarcastic responses. “There’s a problem. If my family won’t help me, I’ll go to strangers.” He reached out to hang the phone back on the cradle.

“You know we will,” he snapped.

He settled the phone to his ear again. “Obviously, I don’t know it.”

The silence settled like a storm cloud. It grew more oppressive by the second.

At last, Daveed broke it. “When should we expect you?”

“I need to pick up appropriate clothing from home.”

The resulting silence was potent.

“We can provide whatever you need, Arren,” Daveed reminded him.

He’s chiding me.

“Joy has a list of what I purchased for Sandy before. She really likes the blue and silver, if it’s in stock. Two
S’suuhhea
and matching
S’suumea
for me.”

“Done. I’ll have Deidre send them up to your office. I’ll see you at home.”

Your home. Not mine.
“Thank you, Daveed.”

“We’re family, little brother.”

“Family.”
I’m not sure I know what you mean by that.

He hung up and buried his face in his hands.
I can live with “family” for a few hours if it means Sandy is safe.

But they are going to be the worst hours of my life.
Arren didn’t doubt it.

****

The nest looked no less imposing than it had the last time Arren had visited it.
Far too soon for my tastes.

He sighed, resigned to this course of action. Arren got out of his car, circled to Sandy’s door, and drew her sleeping body out.

The code pad at the front door still recognized his code. On some level, that surprised him.

Arren pushed the door open and stepped inside with Sandy in his arms. The door slid shut behind them automatically, and he shuddered in revulsion.

With no proper sleeping surface, he settled Sandy’s blanket wrapped body on the floor and pulled the
S’suumea
out of the bag on his shoulder.

It took a moment for the cut of the cloth to resonate with him.
Deidre sent the informal
S’suumea
. Raashh is going to be pissed.

Arren hesitated. Leaving was still an option.

Fuck Raashh.
Arren pulled off his street clothes, hung them on his usual hook, and secured the
S’suumea
around his waist. That accomplished, he unwrapped the blanket and hefted Sandy from the floor.

The door to the nest slid open, and Daveed glared down at him. His brother’s gaze moved to Sandy, and his brow creased in worry.

“In the center nest?” Arren asked.

“
Yes. In the center nest.
” Daveed cleared the way.

Xxan. Of course. We only speak Xxan in Raashh’s nest.
He switched to his
seir’s
language reluctantly. “My thanks.”

“I welcome the brother to the nest.”

Brother. Not the brother warrior. The insults never stop.
He tipped his head in answer to the welcome.

Arren led the way through the garden tunnels, his body alive to the lush home he’d left. Even if he chose to create what his
seir
felt was a “proper” nest, it would take decades to match this growth.

I didn’t leave because of the nest. I didn’t stay to enjoy it either. A nest is just a place. Sandy and I like our little nest.

The center nest opened around him, and Arren forced a calming breath.

Raashh rose from the throne set before the water wall, coming to his full height of nearly three meters tall. At two hundred and forty kilos, it made the elder appear more wall than man.

Arren flicked a glance at the throne, and his jaw tightened reflexively.
A throne like Daahn’s. A water wall like Daahn’s.

“You bring your mate to the nest?” Raashh asked. Before Arren could reply, his
seir
continued. “And you come here in
that
?”

He didn’t have to look down at himself to know what his
seir
had taken offense to. “It was what Deidre had sent up to me, and it wasn’t worth the time to go back for another
S’suumea
. A man has his priorities.”

“Daveed will bring you proper clothing.”

“You’re wasting my time with—”

“We wear the formal
S’suumea
. You know this, Arren.”

“Because Daahn does,” he snapped back, his ridge plates undulating. “Think for yourself and stop wasting my time when my mate is at risk.”

It was out before Arren could rein his tongue.
Too late now. Apologizing shows weakness.

His
seir’s
ridge plates didn’t extend in the slightest.

Because I’m not a worthy opponent.
That burned at his gut.

Raashh tongue scented, then focused on Sandy. “Your mate…”

“Sandy Raashh, formerly Butler,” he offered formally.

“The risk to her?”

“She is bearing, but her food and sleep requirements are perhaps four times the norm. If this is a Xxanian problem, I need to know it…and know what to do for her.”

His
seir
didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he leaned down to take in Sandy’s scent directly from her throat. “How long has she carried?”

“Less than two weeks.”

“You are certain of that?”

“Yes, I am. And I am certain the young one is my get. Now is this something seen in Xxanian bearing women or not?”

The elder pressed his talons to her womb. He dragged them back and forth, stirring the
S’suuhhea
. At last, Raashh spoke. “No. I have never heard of such a failing in a Xxanian female.”

Failing. I was his failure. Raashh views this as my failure. My child is no one’s failure.
“Perhaps I should just go to SLAL.”

“You should.”

Arren shot a glare at Daveed.
Of course Raashh will help. After all, we’re
family. “I understand. Thank you for your precious time, Raashh.”

He turned to go. There was a shuttle at Spice Industries. Arren could use it to get Sandy to one of the space stations.

His
seir
wrapped a hand around Arren’s bicep and dragged him to a halt. He glared up at the old dinosaur, torn between turning his back on them all and taking the elder’s own weapons to him.

Raashh’s voice was slow and calm. “I do not think you do understand me. Yes, your mate is at risk. Grave risk, and I can do nothing to help her. Perhaps the scientists can.”

The frank analysis nearly weakened Arren’s knees. “I thought you said this isn’t a Xxanian problem.”

“It is not. Xxanian females’ bodies selectively eliminate down to one fetus when two or more catch. Allowing more than one to gestate is a human frailty, and I cannot begin to guess how it will affect your mate.”

Arren reeled at the news, and his
seir’s
hand tightened. He stared up at the pureblood Xxanian elder, at a loss to reply.

“We need SLAL,” Raashh informed him. “As soon as we can reach them.”

“We?” Arren could hardly follow the conversation in his shock.

“My son’s mate, my nest daughter, is at risk. My
gran-vvaasheen
are at risk. The entire nest stands with you, Arren.” He looked over Arren’s shoulder. “Daveed, prepare my shuttle. We will contact Rayn from orbit.”

“Right away.” Daveed loped away.

Arren forced his mouth to shut, swallowed a lump inexplicably stuck in his throat, and managed words. “Thank you…my
seir
.”

****

“Will my nest daughter and
gran-vvaasheen
live?” Raashh demanded.