Blood Rebellion
Page 35

"You're sure of this?" Wylend was staring at my face instead of my bloody clothing.
"Yes. The leader of the twelve thousand—somebody named Felix, put five million Alliance Credits together and paid Gart for the favor."
"That is interesting news, Granddaughter. May I offer you the use of my bath and perhaps some clean clothing?" Wylend kept his hazel eyes glued to my face. I realized then that Wylend wasn't used to people just showing up in his private study, dressed mostly in blood and the occasional piece of trachea. Again—none of it mine.
"That might be nice," I said, absently picking a stray bit of flesh off my shirt.
"Come this way." He led me through a sitting room and past a library, then into a huge bath beyond. This bathroom was larger than most people's houses. Everything was trimmed in gold and the tiles had gold and silver veins running through them. The tub was immaculate and large enough for a few Olympic events. I didn't see a shower anywhere. Well, it might not hurt to soak for a little while.
"Go ahead and run your bath, I'll send someone after clothing." My Karathian Grandfather was smiling at me. He might have looked proud, even. I had no idea why. I turned the taps and water poured into the tub.
I sat in warm water up to my chin, cleaning blood and bits of this and that out of my hair when my clothing arrived, via Erland Morphis. I should have known.
"I got these from your closet inside the palace and never set off the alarm," Erland was quite proud of himself. He laid everything on a dressing table nearby and sat on the wide edge of the marble tub. "Now, what sort of trouble have you gotten yourself into?" He folded arms over his chest. I gaped at the second most beautiful man I'd ever met, realizing that I cared about him. And he wasn't yelling, either, which was a real plus. His question (and tone) had been a conversational one.
"Where do you want to start?" I asked with a shrug.
"Start with why you came in covered in blood and guts and go from there," he suggested.
"I wiped out the King of Marrik and his asshole entourage."
"And the reason you wiped out the King of Marrik and his entourage?" Erland was withholding judgment until he had the full story. I was caring more about him as time went on. Gavin's shouting and cursing would have sent echoes through my grandfather's palace if he'd been present.
"They threw spears at me." I ducked under the water and rinsed my hair.
"Here," Erland handed a small towel to me to get the soap and water out of my eyes.
"Thanks," I said and wiped my face. He took the towel when I was finished.
"And they threw spears at you because?"
"I went to tell them that I'd taken their werewolves to Harifa Edus—they were only hunting them down and killing them anyway, so I thought it would be polite if I informed the king about what I'd done. He and his guards got a little testy with me and threw spears. Twice."
"Then you are completely justified, although it isn't very attractive to have blood and bits of flesh in your hair and on your clothing. I took the liberty of turning all of your clothing to ash for you, by the way."
"Thanks," I said. "I wasn't sure what to do with it." I finished washing myself, even the naughty bits, although it might have been a little uncomfortable having Erland watch. He wasn't budging and I was too tired to make him move. "How about a towel," I said, when I finished with my bath.
"Step out and I'll wrap you up," he said.
"Erland," I whined.
"Lissa," he whined back.
"Fine," I muttered sarcastically and pulled myself out of the tub. Erland had a big, fluffy towel in no time and he did wrap me up before drying my hair. He was picking it out with his fingers afterward before setting me on the dressing bench and going through it carefully with a comb.
"There, that looks better." He was still going through my hair with his fingers, drying it with some sort of spell. It was curling in his hands. "Do you know how much women pay to get hair this color?" He was smiling at me as he worked.
"No," I said, leaning my head against his shoulder. His fingers were doing something to me. Relaxing me. Soothing me. Making me sleep.
Chapter 12
The air was cool, the covers warm and the arms around me even warmer. Someone was nuzzling my neck and then the sensitive spot behind my ear, gently moving my hair away to brush gentle kisses there. I was struggling to get my brain engaged so my sense of smell would tell me who was doing this to me. Treating me so gently, as if he knew every sensitive spot on my body.
"I know where they all are, because they are the same for me, every other hundred years," Erland murmured against my ear.
"Erland, what are we doing in bed together?" I slapped a hand over my face.
"What I've wanted to do for a very long time, my love. I want to love you. I want to fuck you. And then fuck you again, more than likely." He moved my hand, flashed me a beautiful smile and then leaned in to kiss me. Yeah, he hadn't bothered to dress me the night before. I should have known he was weaving some sort of warlocky spell. I'd fallen asleep while he worked on my hair and I'd slept right through his getting me into bed.
"Erland, what is poking," I reached down to—oh, Lord.
"Lissa, I told you I wanted you. You count me among your mates yet you keep putting me off. Tell me why that is?" He was back to nuzzling, stroking and rubbing insistent parts of his body against me. I reached up to run a hand through thick, black hair. He smiled against my mouth and pulled the sheet away from my breasts.
I suppose that if you were male but went through a female phase every other hundred years; you probably would know what to do. Erland sure as hell did. Top to bottom, he knew. And he was gentle in all the places that required it and vigorous in all the places that needed it. I hadn't had sex in more than five months and he took full advantage of that fact. He was quite proud that he made me come twice before doing so himself.
* * *
"Erland, you look smugly satisfied." Wylend observed as a servant poured fresh orange juice for him at the breakfast table. Erland had herded me off to breakfast as soon as I was cleaned up and dressed. I should have known my grandfather would know all about what was going on. I wanted to slap a hand over my face but that would be an all-out admission of guilt. Erland got me seated at the table, then sat down on Wylend's other side. There was no way to misinterpret the huge smile he was wearing.
We got breakfast before Wylend gave us his news. "I had Gart brought in late last night," he beamed over that fact. "And he conveniently admitted to everything." Erland wasn't the only one smugly satisfied this morning. I listened in fascination; I wanted to hear everything Wylend had to say. "We were able to track his path from Beliphar," Wylend chuckled. "It was an easy capture." Wylend busied himself with breakfast for a moment.
"So knowing where he'd been made it easy?" I asked.
"It's a simple spell, if we know where they've been in the past few months. Longer than that and the spell scent dissipates," Erland nodded.
"And we were very motivated. It's a serious violation of Karathian law to have anything to do with the Ra'Ak, or any of their spawn." Wylend grinned. "In any form," he added.
"Wylend has been itching to take Gart down for a very long time," Erland explained, buttering a croissant. I didn't tell him the thing was loaded with butter already. "We've suspected his hand in so many things, but couldn't catch him in the act, as you might say."
"But now you have him." I was biting into my own croissant, without the extra butter.
"He'll be sentenced next week, during the Council meeting," Wylend sounded gleeful.
"You've found him guilty already?"
"Commanded admission," Erland grinned. "But before we can do that, we have to know exactly what they're guilty of. It can't be suspicion only. We wrap the facts with power and slam it into them. The truth pops right out." Erland stuffed half a buttered croissant into his mouth.
"That sounds sort of cool," I said, admiringly.
"What was really cool, as you put it, was getting the initial information from my granddaughter," Wylend gave me a wonderful smile.
"And the sex was even better," Erland remarked casually. "Fantastic. Orgasmic. Incredible."
"Another croissant, honey?" I held one out to him on the tip of a lengthy claw.
"Absolutely." He pulled the roll off the end of my claw and laughed.
* * *
"Who knows how many there are?" Belen spoke with Kiarra in his office. It wasn't really an office—not in the traditional sense, anyway. It was a floor, one wall, a bookshelf, a desk and two chairs, all floating amidst fluffy white clouds.
"How did this get past us, all this time?" Kiarra shook her head, perplexed over the news.
"I wouldn't object, normally, since they keep their humanoid shape—the transferred DNA increases speed and endurance." Belen heaved a sigh. "But the sad truth is, once they're infected, they can no longer reproduce in the traditional sense. They can only turn others; they will have no young after the turning. And they die sooner, after the turn. I estimate forty years is the longest that any of them will survive. This has built-in obsolescence for all the humanoid races, if it is allowed to spread unchecked. Lissa can scent them, and the rest of you must create an alternative method of finding them. The wolves and vampires may be able to track them by scent as well."
"I already sent Kyler to destroy everything left on Beliphar," Kiarra nodded, pacing. "Lissa was wise to pick up the uninfected ones and then destroy the starships so the others couldn't get off-world."
"Yes, she was. But this cancer is spreading elsewhere among the worlds of light. The Saa Thalarr must pull together and go out searching for these creatures. It is my command. The Larentii Liaisons have been recalled and they will assist with this. I am asking you to coordinate, Kiarra." Belen wanted to pace while in corporeal form. "And since Grace is pregnant, I may choose a temporary replacement for her."