Read Switched: Brides of the Kindred 17 Online

Authors: Evangeline Anderson

Tags: #scifi, #alien, #scifi erotica, #scifi romance, #scifi erotic romance, #evangeline anderson, #fated mate, #kindred, #brides of the kindred

Switched: Brides of the Kindred 17 (24 page)

BOOK: Switched: Brides of the Kindred 17
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The difficulty lay
in staying on the huge creature’s back. Even with Kerov’s long
legs, it was difficult to span such a broad expanse and, as there
was no saddle to sit on or reigns to hold on to, Frankie constantly
found herself slipping off one way or another. The fact that Ursa’s
purple feather-fur was incredibly slippery didn’t help matters
either. Frankie gripped handfuls of the slick stuff at Ursa’s ruff
and tried her best to sit up straight, using Kerov’s impressive
core muscles to stay in place, but it was a constant struggle.
Ursa, though tame enough, didn’t have the smoothest gait. Her
rolling, heaving walk was enough to make Frankie seasick.

She thought later
that it was kind of like trying to ride one of those mechanical
bulls you see at country western bars that had been coated in a
thin layer of oil. Still, she managed to stay aboard the broad,
swaying back right up until the very end of the parade.
Unfortunately, that was where the review box was—a tall stand built
at the very end of the parade route where the upper officials in
the Tarsian army sat.

Frankie could see the reddish light of the Tarsian sun
reflecting off their metals as well as the tall, gold and silver
conical helmets they all wore. It must be special headgear to wear
with their dress uniforms—she was just really glad she didn’t have
to wear one herself. They looked
heavy
.

She was just
thinking she was glad this horrible parade was almost at an end and
hoping she would get some time to rest when it was all over when
Ursa looked up and saw the light winking off the tall metal hats.
Frankie saw her mount’s head jerk and tried to get a tighter grip
on her slippery purple fur. She was afraid that Ursa might be
spooked by the strange metallic glint of sunlight in her eyes and
bolt.

But she hadn’t given
the big creature—or Kerov who had trained her—enough credit. Ursa
clearly knew what the glinting metal helmets meant and what was
expected of her. Unfortunately, Frankie did not.

When they were
directly in front of the stand full of superior officers and high
Tarisan Army Brass, Ursa suddenly shook herself and stood, rearing
up on her hind legs to her full height—which had to be twelve or
thirteen feet tall.

Frankie gasped and
held on for dear life but she hadn’t been prepared for her mount to
suddenly rear up. Her feet were dangling as she hung down the huge
creature’s back, but still, she gripped the purple fur and hung on,
praying the Army Brass sitting in the stands wouldn’t think it was
odd for her to be hanging from Ursa’s shoulder fur.

She might have held
on but Ursa wasn’t done. With a deafening roar, she shook herself
impressively. At the same time, the long trailing feathers that
extruded from her rump instead of a stubby tail, spread wide in a
vast, vivid colorful display not unlike a peacock’s.

The shaking display
was too much. Frankie lost her grip and tumbled off to one side,
getting a mouthful of feathers as she went. She did try, however,
to land with some grace. Calling on her years of yoga experience,
she did a little somersault and sprang up, spreading her arms and
bowing to the assembled officers while surreptitiously spitting
multicolored feathers out of the side of her mouth.

When she finally
rose up again, Frankie thought she saw surprise in some of the
formerly impassive faces but there was nothing she could do about
that. She had done the best she could in a bad situation—she just
hoped she hadn’t damaged Kerov’s career any in the process.

Ursa had finally
settled back down on the ground on all fours and lowered her tail
feathers. Rather than trying to clamber back up on her broad,
slippery back, Frankie had put a hand on her shaggy neck and walked
beside her, waving to the officers as she went, hoping again that
she wasn’t going against protocol. They still stared at her with
quizzical expressions but nobody tried to stop her. Finally the
review was over and she was able to take Ursa back to the
stable.

She only stayed a few minutes to see the joyful reunion
between the mother and cubs before she realized every muscle in her
body ached. Riding Ursa was absolutely the best core workout she’d
ever had—and the
hardest
.
Silently, Frankie vowed she would never complain about planking
again!

Luckily, a quick
scan of Kerov’s memories revealed that the Commanders’ barracks
wasn’t far from the stables. Frankie had gone there and, finding
herself alone, had collapsed on a cot which was barely big enough
to hold Kerov’s big frame.

Oh, Kerov,
she thought, stretching her aching muscles as sleep took
her.
Where are you
and what are you doing in my body?

 

Chapter Eleven

 


Hmmm…” Kerov looked at himself critically in the silvery
viewing surface Frankie’s information told him was a mirror. He was
wearing a dress, as Lacy had recommended—a long, frilly garment he
had found at the back of Frankie’s clothing storage area which left
her shapely legs bare. It was purple with pink ruffles and fake
flowers of even brighter pink with green leaves running around the
neckline. Also, there was an underskirt that went beneath it—a
vast, white, puffy thing which made the purple skirt of the dress
fan out dramatically.

Shoes dyed purple
and pink to match completed the outfit. They had high, thin heels
which made them incredibly hard to walk in. Kerov knew—he had been
trying to get used to them for the past half an arhn, wobbling back
and forth in front of the mirror, trying not to twist an ankle.

In addition to the
dress and shoes, he had tried to put on what Lacy called “make-up”
to enhance the effect. He had found it in Frankie’s fresher by the
sink and had done his best to apply it, though he wasn’t sure of
the results. It seemed strange to put paint on his face but he
supposed it was an Earth female tradition and since he had done
such a bad job of impersonating Frankie so far, he felt he had to
at least try it.

He
frowned at himself again, taking in the bright crimson stain on his
lips and cheeks. Was this
really
how he was supposed to look to meet the male coming to
Frankie’s dwelling tonight? Not that it mattered—he was simply
going to send the bastard packing. There was no way he could be
good enough for Frankie, so—


Hey—what am I wearing? Ugh—it’s the bridesmaid dress from
cousin Esperanza’s wedding. I swore I’d never wear this again—what
the hell am I doing with it on? And what’s wrong with my face? I
never wear this much make-up!”

The familiar
feminine voice in his head made Kerov nearly sag with relief.


Frankie?” he asked aloud. “Is that you?”


Who else would it be? And what are you doing in my
body?”


The same thing you were doing in my body the other night, of
course,” Kerov said impatiently. “We must have another incomplete
Switch—although it was certainly complete for a while. At least on
my end. I’ve been in your body all day—what about you? Have you
been in mine?”


Have I ever!”
Frankie gave a long-suffering sigh.
“Ugh—your planet is awful! I got your
equipment stuck in the weird pee-sucking-tube thing and then I was
water-boarded by your shower. And all that was
before
I was given a green, bleeding chunk of animal
heart for breakfast and had to ride your pet grizzly-bear-peacock
in the parade!”


My equipment?” Kerov felt his stomach do a slow flip. “Do you
mean my shaft? What did you do to it? Did you injure
it?”


Trust a man to worry about what’s down below first. Keep your
pants on, buddy—your precious junk is just fine. But speaking of
junk—why am I so burny and itchy between my legs?”


That would be because your best friend Lacy forced me to have
a ‘bazillion’ at the local torture emporium you call a waxing
salon,” Kerov snapped.


A
bazillion? You mean a
Brazilian?”


Whatever you call it, it is torture which I endured on your
behalf. And that was
after
I was
forced to eat the most disgusting food which we would not even feed
to animals on Tarsia and put through many humiliating poses at the
Lotus Pond.”


The Lotus Pond? Oh my God—I almost forgot about my yoga test
with Sheila! How did it go? Did you pass? Did I get the
job?”
Frankie
demanded excitedly.

Kerov winced.
“Well…not exactly.”


What? What do you mean, ‘not exactly?’ Weren’t you able to
access my memories? I know I was able to look at yours—that’s how I
got up the nerve to ride Ursa in that damn parade. Who could have
ripped my head off with one paw, by the way, and I thought she
was
going
to at first!”


Yes, I
was
able to
access your memories,” Kerov said stiffly. “And I performed all the
poses with poise and alacrity. Well, except for the slurpean and
the firefly.” He rubbed the bump on his forehead which had gone
down only a little. “But she said that my ‘energy’ was ‘off’
whatever that means.”


Crap.”
Frankie sighed and he could almost feel her slumping with
dejection.
“Sheila
can be so
weird
sometimes.”


She seemed to sense that I was not you,” Kerov admitted in a
low voice. “I was afraid to argue with her too much—I wasn’t sure
if Switching is looked down on and outlawed in your society as it
is in mine.”

I
thought I told you—Switching isn’t even a thing here at
all,”
Frankie told
him.
“So it can’t
be outlawed.”
She
sighed again.
“I
guess I can’t get too mad at you—not after the way I screwed up you
and Xirnah last night.”

Kerov felt a surge
of relief.


I’m glad you forgive me. I
have
tried to do the best I could to follow your routine and acquit
myself well in your body. But some things were so strange and
painful I could scarcely comprehend them.” He frowned. “I still
don’t understand why you wanted to have all the hair ripped off
your mound. Was it purely to impress the male who is coming over
here tonight?”

He felt her stiffen
defensively inside him.


If you’re talking about Professor Ramlow, I have no intention
of impressing him with my, uh, mound. The Brazilian wax was Lacy’s
idea—I wasn’t actually going to go along with it.”


What?” Kerov nearly shouted. “Are you telling me I went
through all that for
nothing?
That
female Helga held me down and smeared hot wax all over your hoo-ha,
as she called it, and then
ripped
out your curls by the roots. It was
extremely
painful and also…”


Also what?”
Frankie asked.


Also…traumatic,” Kerov admitted, his voice going low. “I have
never been so weak I could not defend myself or stop someone from
assaulting me before. How…how do you bear it?”


How do I bear being a female, you mean?”
she asked dryly.
“I might as well ask how you stand
being a male, always having to act brave and strong and not afraid
of anything—even something like riding that freaking Ursa that
scares the shit out of you.”

Kerov sighed. “I
guess what we’re saying is that we need to Switch back to our own
bodies—permanently.”


I’m all in favor of that! But how?”


I
don’t know—but believe me, I’m thinking about it as hard as I can,”
he told her grimly. “In the meantime, how are you doing in my body
back on Tarsia? Did the review go well?”


Yes, fairly well. Very tiring though—how do you manage to
stay on Ursa’s back with no saddle or reigns for so long? She’s so
damn slippery!”


You have to hook the toes of your boots into her
saddle-flaps—the natural pockets in her skin, just under her ribs.”
Concentrating, he sent her a picture of what he meant. “That holds
you in place, even when she rears at the end of the
review.”


Damn—I see what you mean. Like natural skin stirrups! Why
didn’t I find that information in your Ursa filing
cabinet?”


Filing cabinet?” Kerov asked.

Frankie sent him a picture of a metal cabinet with several
drawers and the word,
Ursa,
printed
on the front of it.
“That’s how I see your mind—all neat and organized. So why
didn’t I find that information?”

Kerov shrugged. “How should I know? Maybe you didn’t dig deep
enough? This is
your
mind, by
the way.” He sent her a picture of the huge room with ideas and
memories like brightly colored scraps of fabric lying in piles
everywhere. “Believe me, it wasn’t easy finding the right poses for
your instructor in
that
mess,”
he added.


I’m sorry you think my mind is too messy but yours is too
rigid. And a lot of your filing cabinets are locked! What’s the
deal with that?”


I
don’t know,” Kerov said stiffly. He was beginning to feel calmer
and he regretted his earlier outburst. “But I hope you’re not
prying into areas that are private. I have been according you every
consideration I can, though the urge to explore your body has been
almost overwhelming.”

BOOK: Switched: Brides of the Kindred 17
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