Switched... Book 17 In The Brides Of The Kindred Series 3e3e1c

Switched

Brides of the Kindred, Book 17

Evangeline Anderson

www.evangelineanderson.com

Switched, 2nd Edition, Book Seventeen of The Brides of the Kindred Copyright © 2016 by Evangeline Anderson All rights reserved. Cover Art Design © 2016 by Reese Dante

This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writers’ imagination or have been used factiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.

All rights are reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

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Cover content is for illustrative purposes only. Any person depicted on the cover is a model.

Contents

Switched

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

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Uncharted

Chapter 1

Abducted

I. Through the Looking Glass

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

The Alien Mate Index

Brides of the Kindred Glossary

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Also by Evangeline Anderson

About the Author

Switched

Brides of the Kindred, Book 17

A warrior with a talent that could get him killed A girl transported to a new existence with no warning When the two of them trade lives, it places them in mortal peril. Not to mention really screwing up their love lives! Will they ever be able to get back in their rightful bodies? Or have they been forever...Switched?

What happens when you wake up in someone else's body? And what if that someone happens to be a huge, hot, Alien warrior? Frankie is about to find out...the hard way. Kerov knows his people used to have the ability to Switch bodies with their bonded mates, but he has no idea who the girl in his head is. And the fact that she's controlling his body goes beyond awkward...it could be lethal if anyone finds out. On his home planet of Tarsia, Switching is a crime punishable by death. But there are worse things than dying as he finds out when he gets stuck in Frankie's body as well. What is a Brazilian bikini wax anyway? And why does he have to remove his pants to get one?

Will Frankie and Kerov ever get back to their own bodies? And what do the steamy dreams they've been sharing have to do with their destinies? You'll have to read Switched, Brides of the Kindred 17, to find out.

One

On Friday morning, Frankie woke up in her own body. Not that waking up in her own body was unusual—not at that point, anyway. And Frankie had no idea of knowing how unusual it would soon become. All she knew was that she’d hit snooze one too many times and now she was running late. “Crap,” she muttered as she glanced at the clock on her phone and bolted out of bed. She barely had time for a shower—a super fast one—if she hurried. There was going to be no time to wash her hair though, which meant she was going to be fighting frizz all day, especially if the humidity was high. And since she lived in Tampa, Florida, the humidity was always high. As the hot water poured over her body, she tried to wake up. Why had she kept hitting the snooze button anyway? Oh right—it was the dream she’d been having. It was almost like a story and she’d wanted to see how it ended. As she washed, she tried to the details. Recalling the dream was surprisingly easy. Most dreams started to fade the moment you woke up but this one was staying with her. It was about a guy—a really tall guy, she thought, splashing the hot water in her face and reaching for her favorite pink grapefruit shower gel. Normally the only man she dreamed about was her ex, Carlos, and those were mostly nightmares. Nightmares that she was still stuck in her dead-end marriage with no job, no prospects, and nothing but a life of endless childbearing and housework ahead of her. Not to mention a husband who didn’t appreciate her or think she was capable of anything else. But the man in her dreams had looked nothing like Carlos. He had short blond hair—or at least, it was really light brown. And those eyes… She shivered. His eyes had been a pale shade of gray Frankie had never seen before. So pale they were almost white but with a solid black ring around the irises that made him look scarily intense. In fact, everything about him was intense. In her dream, he’d been barking orders at a bunch of other guys. All were tall and muscular, dressed in some kind of uniform and they shouted back in unison when he asked them questions.

Weird, Frankie thought. Like some kind of Army recruitment film or something. Except the uniform her dream guy was wearing wasn’t like anything from any branch of the Armed Forces that Frankie had ever seen. It was scarlet with accents of gold and the tros that went with it were black with a scarlet stripe running up the sides. Tall black boots completed the outfit. He’d been barking orders and marching up and down the line of warriors or soldiers or whatever they were and then the tall, blond man with the scary gray eyes had turned his head and… “And he looked right at me,” Frankie whispered to herself. She shook her head, trying to get rid of the image. “Don’t be crazy, Frankie—it was only a dream,” she muttered to herself, getting out of the shower. She wrapped a towel around herself and wiped steam off the mirror. A woman with wild black hair and big brown eyes looked back at her as she reached for her toothbrush. Frankie—who had been christened sca Benita Hermosa Rodriguez— came from a big, traditional Latin family. She was the fourth of seven children, three girls and four boys. Her two sisters, Alma and Carita, were married and had six kids between them. Her two older brothers, Julio and Dominic were also married and of the two younger ones, Tomas was engaged and Aurelio was dating a girl seriously—the family expected him to propose to at any time. It was enough to make you sick. Not that Frankie had anything against marriage and family and commitment— she had tried it herself, after all. Her whole family had expected her to marry her high school sweetheart and so that was what she had done. And then she’d spent a miserable five years cooking and cleaning up after him, putting up with him the nights he came home drunk and abusive, and trying to be happy because this was the way life was supposed to be, right? “Wrong,” Frankie said aloud to herself. “That wasn’t me—wasn’t the life I wanted.” She often thought that if it wasn’t for her best friend, Lacy, she never would have made it. Lacy was the only one who saw how miserable she was—and she’d been the one to encourage Frankie to take some college classes and had provided her with a steady supply of birth control for which Frankie was eternally grateful. Not that she didn’t want kids eventually, but it had only taken her a

couple of months with Carlos to know she didn’t want his kids and having children would have compounded an already bad situation. Despite being miserable, Frankie had stuck out the marriage for five long years because she didn’t want to disappoint her parents. Finally, though, she couldn’t take it anymore. When she told her family that she was filing for divorce, her extremely Catholic grandmother had fainted dramatically and her father had disowned her. That had been hard—maybe the hardest thing she’d ever gone through. But Frankie was strong—a lot stronger than she’d given herself credit for. She made a new life for herself, going to college full time to get a degree in Women’s Studies. Eventually she hoped to get a PhD and teach but for now, she was just trying to get her Masters Degree without taking on too many student loans. Frankie finished brushing her teeth and rinsed, taking a final look at herself in the mirror. Whoever had lived in this apartment before her must have been tall— she had to stand on her tiptoes to see more than just her face. Of course, they wouldn’t have to be very tall to be taller than her. She was a stubby five foot four with what her friend Lacy charitably called, “a juicy caboose.” To put it bluntly—she had a big butt. Frankie often thought she looked completely unremarkable from the waist up—she had B-cup breasts that were nicely shaped and perky enough. But from the waist down, her childbearing hips and big behind got lots of looks and some outright stares if she didn’t dress to minimize her flaws. “Not that it’s a flaw,” Frankie told herself sternly, as she dried the body part in question and pulled on some clothes. “It’s part of me—part of my heritage.” Still, she couldn’t help feeling self-conscious about her ass whenever she went out wearing anything form fitting like yoga pants. She finished toweling off and pulled on a plain khaki skirt and a blue blouse. The outfit would do for her morning class, as well as her shift at work later on. A glance at the clock told her she was still running late. She knew that across town, her sisters were already up, seeing their older kids off to school. And her brothers were probably at work. None of them understood her need to go back to school and change her whole existence. Her mother was still hoping she might get back together with Carlos—Frankie knew because her mom had been

inviting her ex to family suppers on the weekends. “Mira, Mom, it’s not going to happen,” she’d told her mother. “Carlos and I are never getting back together so please just stop inviting him.” “You were so perfect together in school, mi hija.” Her mother had looked at her reproachfully. “And I know Carlos still loves you.” She had nodded at Carlos, who sat at the end of the table making sad eyes in Frankie’s direction. Frankie had been unable to contain her surge of irritation. “What he loved was being my boss—running my life,” she muttered to her mother under her breath. “But I don’t want anyone else running my life. It’s my life—so let me live it. I want to try new things—to experience the world on my own and be open to anything—anything at all.” If only she had known that her wish was soon to be granted—and not in the way that she’d imagined. But for now, she was blissfully ignorant. She hummed as she grabbed a mangokiwi-chia seed smoothie from the fridge she’d whipped up the night before. Frankie was a strict vegetarian—another change she’d made as soon as she got away from Carlos. She wasn’t a vegan or anything extreme—she just didn’t eat meat. She felt better and healthier and lighter somehow, even though when she went home for family dinners, her new diet earned her many concerned looks from her mother and grandmother. “But don’t you want any puerco asado? Just try a little piece,” her mother would wheedle. “I made your favorite chicharones,” her abuela would say. She was still deeply disapproving of Frankie’s divorced status and lit a candle for her daily in church, praying to the Blessed Virgin that her granddaughter would see sense and come back to her rightful husband. “No thank you, mom, abuelita,” Frankie always said, giving her grandmother a kiss on the cheek. “I feel better and healthier when I don’t eat meat. But I’d love more rice, please.” Her grandmother always shook her head but she couldn’t argue that Frankie was wasting away. Despite her vegetarian diet and regular exercise, Frankie’s J-Lo

booty stuck stubbornly with her and refused to melt—which seemed really unfair. Neither of her sisters had such a big butt, even after having multiple children apiece. Not that she needed to be like her sisters, Frankie reminded herself as she got into her ancient Honda Civic and started it up. She’d tried that for years—now it was time to embrace her own identity and get comfortable inside her own skin. It was a short drive from her low rent apartment in the Carlton Arms complex to the USF campus. Living on campus itself was too expensive. Though she had to take loans to cover her classes and books, Frankie tried her best to pay her own living expenses. This meant living in a less than safe part of town and working a series of crappy jobs, even though students in the Masters programs were encouraged to focus exclusively on their studies. She didn’t usually mind her apartment—it might look ugly on the outside but inside Frankie had transformed the tiny space into a neat, pretty little nest. However, the crappy job thing was beginning to get her down. If only there were enough TA positions to go around! But it seemed like every professor on campus already had all the help they needed. Which meant that Frankie was stuck doing time in retail, working at Victoria’s Secret in the University Square mall. In fact, she had a shift right after her morning class, Women in Modern Literature. Frankie sighed when she thought of it. She was sure some of her fellow Women’s Studies students would scoff at her for working in a place that glorified the objectification and sexualization of women’s bodies. But at the time she’d taken the job, she’d been desperate to get away from Carlos and make it on her own. Victoria’s Secret was the only place that was hiring so Frankie had applied. Now she was stuck selling overpriced panties and bras—at least until she got a job teaching yoga. Soon, she promised herself, bouncing up the stairs of the Humanities building. Soon I’ll be out of retail for good. In fact, she’d completed her two hundred hour certification recently, but she had a final test coming up and she was trying to get in as many classes between now and then as she could, both to practice and to calm her nerves. The two hundred hour certification was enough to teach in most studios but Shelia Landrace, the owner of the Lotus Pond where Frankie took her teacher training, was very

particular. She had a test that was legendary for being tough to . But Frankie knew she was ready. If she could only , Sheila had promised she could teach several beginner’s classes a week to start out. “Focus on your breathing,” Frankie imagined herself telling her students. “Feel the breath flow in and out of you…breath is life…breathe into any tight spaces and as you exhale, rid yourself of anything that does not serve you…” “Oh, sca—I was hoping to see you here this morning.” The soft, male voice interrupted her thoughts and Frankie turned quickly, her heart pounding. “Oh, Professor Ramlow.” She smoothed her fly-away hair nervously, wishing she’d gotten up in time to wash it. “Good morning.” “Now, sca, how often do I have to tell you to call me Todd?” He smiled at her benevolently. “Of course…Todd.” Frankie smiled at him shyly. Professor Ramlow was one of the few males teaching in the Women’s Studies department and he also happened to be very handsome—in a generic, white guy kind of way. But that was fine with Frankie—she’d had enough Latin machismo bullshit to last her a lifetime with Carlos. She was sick of male posturing—she could definitely see herself with a sensitive, enlightened, emotionally intelligent man. Even if he was white and Protestant, which would undoubtedly give her abuela another fainting fit. Frankie sighed inwardly. Too bad, Professor Ramlow was married because there was definitely some kind of attraction between them. She had taken his course, Literature by Women of Color, and had stayed after one day to argue about a Maya Angelou poem. Ever since, he made it a point to talk to her and pay her special attention whenever he saw her. Even though she knew he was married, Frankie couldn’t help feeling flattered by the way he singled her out. She was older than the traditional student, after all, and she wasn’t Barbie-doll pretty like most of the nineteen-year-old co-eds running around campus. Her fly-away hair and big behind were the exact opposite of the slim girls with their long, straight hair she saw all around her. Yet Professor Ramlow—Todd—seemed interested in her—seemed to respect her intellect. And after years of living with a man who only cared about her cooking

and cleaning skills, it was refreshing to find someone who liked the fact that she had a brain. “I’m so glad I caught you,” Todd said, smiling at her. “I know you’ve been looking for a TA position and something has just opened up.” “It has?” Frankie couldn’t keep the eagerness out of her voice. “With you?” Though teaching Yoga classes would help her leave retail hell, it still wouldn’t make her enough to move into a nicer, safer place. But being a TA and teaching some classes on the side would certainly pay enough to get her out of the starving-student gutter. Todd nodded. “Yes, with me. So I was wondering if we could have dinner tomorrow night and discuss it?” Frankie felt her heart flutter. Stop it, she told herself sternly. It’s only a job he’s talking about and besides, he’s married! Still, it was flattering that he would come looking for her because he wanted her especially as his new TA. “I’d love that…Todd,” she said, smiling shyly. “Where and what time?” “Well, I was hoping maybe we could go to your place.” He shifted uneasily, his genial smile slipping just a little. “You see, Nancy—my wife—and I are, er, going through a rather messy divorce. And I don’t need to give her any more ammunition by letting myself be seen with such a beautiful woman out in public.” “Oh, well…” Frankie could feel herself blushing. “My place isn’t in the best part of town, you know. I really can’t afford—” “I don’t care about the location,” Todd assured her quickly. “All I’m interested in is the company.” He took Frankie’s hand and squeezed it gently, looking into her eyes. “What do you say? I can bring take-out from Lemongrass—they were just voted the best Thai restaurant in the Bay area.” Frankie’s pulse was racing so hard she wondered if he could feel it as he held her hand. “I think that would be great,” she said softly. “Um…should I give you my address?”

“I’d love that.” Todd brought out his cell phone and tapped it in as she recited it. Then he tucked it back in his pocket and flashed her a grin. “See you tomorrow at eight, sca.” “See you then.” Frankie smiled and headed off to class. She was going to be walking in late at this point but she barely cared. A new TA position and an evening alone with the handsome Professor Ramlow—could this day get any better?

Commander Kerov Volx sighed with satisfaction and armed sweat off his forehead. Could his day get any better? The fighting had been particularly rough of late, but his battalion had repelled the enemy yet again and the Ministry wasn’t predicting another swarm for a week at least. Which was good. It meant he could have some time off—a few days when he didn’t have to sleep in the barracks and live on war rations. Kerov looked around the large, cavernous holding facility with satisfaction. Everywhere males and females in black and scarlet uniforms were busy— breaking down equipment, servicing transports, cleaning and checking weapons. His people knew they had a whole solar week off but before they could leave, every piece of equipment had to be in top shape, ready for the next swarm. There was an air of suppressed excitement and a hum of contentment all around. Though the battle had been even more arduous than usual, they hadn’t lost a single soldier. It had been a good day. “Kerov.” A hand clapped him on the back and he turned to see Jorn, the commander of another unit similar to his own. Jorn was tall and slim with narrow shoulders, a shock of white-blond hair, and blackish-purple eyes. His build, as well as his long, angular face, betokened the fact that he was pure bred Tarsian with no Kindred DNA in his gene pool. Kerov was the opposite—his broad shoulders and heavy musculature gave away his Kindred origins as unmistakably as his pale gray eyes. Yet, despite their differences and the fact that those with Kindred DNA weren’t always smiled upon in Tarsian society, the two males were good friends. “Greetings,” Kerov said heartily, clapping the other male on the back in return. “How goes the battle?” It was a standard greeting but his friend laughed anyway. “You tell me! I heard you repelled a swarm twice as large as usual and yet didn’t lose a single man. That’s good work, my friend.” Kerov shrugged modestly. “It’s all in knowing the strengths and weaknesses of those under your command. I have a good group.” “And they have a good Commander—which hasn’t gone without notice.

Brigadier Tlox has requested your presence at the General’s Banquet at the Ministry of War tomorrow night after the review.” “Really?” Kerov’s heart pounded a little faster though he tried to keep his face imive. “I wonder what he wants with me?” “He wants to promote you, of course,” Jorn said. “That’s my guess, anyway. What else would he want from the most successful Commander in the Quadrex sector?” “I doubt that.” Kerov ran a hand through his short, dark blond hair—much darker than his friend’s white-blond shade and another giveaway as to his ancestry. “You know those in the upper echelon are all pure bred Tarsians. When was the last time anyone with Kindred genes rose above the rank of Commander?” “That’s just holdover from the early days when the Kindred first ed our society,” Jorn objected. “Back before the need to Switch or Trade had been bred out. Everyone knows such prejudices are outdated now.” “Some bigotry never dies,” Kerov said darkly. “Sometimes I think I’ll never live down my ancestors’ shameful proclivity for Trading bodies with their mates.” “You will—you have,” his friend insisted. “All the old thoughts are dying as younger commanders rise to take the places of our sires and grandsires. Do you know that Brigadier Tlox is only five cycles older than you and me?” “And a pure Tarsian with no Kindred blood to sully his pedigree,” Kerov pointed out. But secretly, he couldn’t help feeling excited. Could Jorn be right? Was he really being singled out for promotion? “The Brigadier doesn’t care about things like ancestry and pedigree,” Jorn said, waving off his objections. “He only cares about results—and you’ve been delivering them steadily since you rose to the rank of Battalion Commander. You’ll be commanding a whole Brigade soon. And then a Regiment and before you know it, you’ll be the first Kindred bred General the Ministry of War has ever seen.” “You have high hopes for me, I see,” Kerov said dryly. “And what about yourself?”

“Oh, I’ll come along with you—I’ll be your Chief of Staff.” Jorn grinned. “I’m going to be at the banquet tomorrow night too, you know. And rumor has it that there are two openings in the Brigade Commanders’ ranks. Next week you and I will be eating together in the Officer’s Mess hall.” “From your lips to the Goddess’s ears,” Kerov said, smiling at his friend’s enthusiasm. “The Kindred Goddess, you mean?” Jorn frowned. “Look, I know you’re just kidding but, uh, don’t let the Brigadier or the General hear you talking like that at the banquet. You know, the Kindred religion isn’t actually forbidden…” “But it is frowned on. Don’t worry.” Kerov clapped him on the back. “I’m not a true believer or anything—it’s just a saying of my sire’s.” “Well, just don’t say it at the banquet,” Jorn cautioned. “No one there is going to care if you’re Kindred as long as you don’t rub it in their face. And you know those that hold religious views—especially that old Kindred religion—aren’t considered too bright.” “My sire is bright enough,” Kerov said a bit stiffly. “He just holds with the old ways—the Kindred ways.” Which was why he had gone against his mandatory mating assignment and married a female he loved instead of the one assigned to him. Such a thing would never be permitted now—a fact which didn’t really bother Kerov much since he was much more interested in promotion at his career than finding “true love”—that elusive emotion those with Kindred DNA seemed to think so essential. “Of course your sire was bright—he had you, didn’t he?” Jorn grinned. “Kindred DNA be damned, you were the top of all our classes. I never would have gotten through quantum astronavigation without you.” Kerov grinned. “Only because I drilled the formulae for each test into your thick skull over and over.” “I thought I’d never get through that class—but look at us now—barely twentynine cycles old and about to rise to the exalted rank of Brigaid Commander.” “Thirty-one,” Kerov corrected him but his friend waved his words away.

“Who’s counting? We’ll still be some of the youngest to ever achieve such a rank! Come on—I’m taking you to the y’xx hall to buy you a drink.” Regretfully, Kerov shook his head. “I wish I could but I have my mandatory sexual encounter tonight.” “Even better—you lucky bastard!” Jorn pounded him on the chest with a closed fist. “To get news of a promotion and have your weekly fuck-session all in one day—I must it, I’m envious.” “Don’t be,” Kerov said dryly. “I’m not exactly looking forward to it.” “What? Not looking forward to sheathing your saber? Why in the Seven Hells not?” his friend demanded amiably. Kerov shifted uncomfortably, feeling he had said too much already. Still, Jorn was looking at him for an explanation and he didn’t like to brush his friend off with a curt reply. “The relations between myself and my state-mandated partner are not always… amicable,” he said at last. In fact, that was a gross understatement. He found Xirnah, the female he had been matched with, to be cold and off-putting and she, in her turn, had made it abundantly clear that she resented being assigned to a male who had Kindred DNA. If she conceived a child by him, it would almost certainly have physical characteristics that were noticeably Kindred—a fate which would shame her—at least in her view. Kerov knew she detested his broad shoulders and heavy, well developed muscles, so different from the slender build of a pure bred Tarsian but he couldn’t help being who he was. And to tell the truth, he didn’t find Xirnah especially attractive either. It wasn’t that she was ugly—she was tall with a perfect, angular figure and a mass of straight, white-blonde hair which was always perfectly coifed. Her wide, blackish-purple eyes were fringed with white-blonde lashes and her breasts were high and shapely. Her hips were almost as narrow as her waist and her petite bottom was nearly nonexistent—another Tarsian trait that was considered especially beautiful.

But there was nothing to hold on to while they had sex—she was all angles and straight lines. Kerov couldn’t think of it as making love because it certainly wasn’t. State-mandated sexual relations with Xirnah was a mechanical affair, devoid of any warmth or affection. When she came to his quarters for their weekly sessions, their routine was always the same. They would sit across from each other on his sensu-chairs making polite but stilted conversation as the chairs stimulated the correct parts of their anatomy. Then, once he was appropriately tumescent and Xirnah was sufficiently lubricated, they would retire to his sleeping chamber where she would open her sex garment and bend over his sleeping platform to reveal her narrow, boney behind. Kerov would part her thin thighs to locate her tight, almost colorless slit and insert his shaft into her chilly depths. True Tarsians had a body temperature that was a good ten to twenty degrees lower than those with Kindred blood. The result was that Kerov always felt like he was fucking an ice sculpture—his partner was quite literally frigid. Xirnah, for her part, often expressed discomfort with his body’s warmth, saying that he burned her with his crude Kindred heat. Kerov always apologized but again, how could he help being himself? He would try to hurry the process along because he could feel Xirnah stiffen with resentment at his intrusion. Thrusting mechanically, he took only as long as was necessary to inseminate his partner exactly once. Then he would withdraw, to their mutual relief, and Xirnah would use his fresher facilities. Though she never itted it aloud, Kerov was certain she was washing his seed out of herself, as quickly as possible. Of course, there wasn’t much to wash away —his body would only produce a large amount of sperm if he was with a female he truly wished to bond to himself for life and Xirnah certainly didn’t fall into that category. And clearly he didn’t fall into the bound-together-for-life category for her either—she couldn’t wait to get his essence out of her. Her eagerness to rid herself of every trace of him right after sex might have hurt Kerov if he had cared for her at all. But even after being paired with her for the last three years, he could summon no emotion other than dread when he knew it was time for their weekly state-mandated sexual encounter.

“How can relations between you not be amicable?” Jorn demanded, breaking his train of thought. “I’ve seen your partner—Xirnah, isn’t it? She’s quite a beauty. I wouldn’t mind plowing her furrow myself.” “You shouldn’t speak so of another male’s partner,” Kerov said, glowering at him. He might not like Xirnah much himself, but he would be damned if he’d allow anyone to denigrate her. After all, it wasn’t her fault she was assigned to him and that they didn’t get along—it was pretty much the same with any partner he was assigned to and had been since he had reached sexual maturity at eighteen cycles. “Sorry,” Jorn said unrepentantly. “I’m just saying she’s pretty—I wish I’d be assigned someone like her.” “No doubt Xirnah would like that,” Kerov said dryly. “In fact, with your pure Tarsian blood, you’d be her ideal partner.” Jorn shrugged philosophically. “Well then it’ll never happen—not unless there’s a foul-up of unheard of proportions at the Ministry of Matching.” “True,” Kerov agreed. The Ministry of Matching was the government agency that assigned sexual partners. But rather than matching males and females that were most compatible together, they sought out the most mismatched pairs they could find and put them into sexual partnerships. This was an unpleasant but necessary part of life on Tarsia Six, where it had been determined that too much interest in one’s sexual partner took away focus from an individual’s state-mandated career and responsibilities. Also, by matching people only with the opposite of their ideal, the Tarsian government had been able to breed the tendency to Switch or Trade bodies with their mates out of the Kindred population. It was said that such a Trade was possible only between couples that were truly meant to be together—fated by the Goddess to fall in love and form a soul bond. By making sure that the males bearing Kindred DNA were matched with a female they did not love, the tendency to Switch or Trade or Jump—whatever you wanted to call it—had been all but eradicated. “Well, I’d better go. I can’t keep Xirnah waiting and she always arrives promptly at sixteen hundred hours,” Kerov told his friend.

“I understand. Did you drive your rover?” Kerov shook his head. “Didn’t know I’d be getting a whole solar week off so I just rode public transport.” Jorn made a face. “Ugh—it’s a long way home on pubtrans this time of day. I’d offer you a lift but I’m on my way to celebrate.” “Alone?” Kerov raised an eyebrow at him. “Sure—why not? If my good friend can’t make it, I’ll have to make do with what I can find. And you never can tell—I might find a female willing to share my company for the night. I’ve been saving my credits to visit the new brothel near the Ministry of Agriculture.” “Enjoy yourself then,” Kerov said blandly. Prostitution wasn’t forbidden by the Tarsian government—in fact, it was encouraged as a good way for over-eager males who weren’t content with their weekly mandated sexual encounter to release tension. But the prostitutes all wore masks and no talking was permitted during the encounter, lest inappropriate feelings be engendered. Kerov had tried it once or twice but the sex workers were almost as cold as Xirnah and even more impersonal. Though at least he didn’t have to worry about impregnating any of them due to their compulsory use of contraceptives and plasti-shield barriers both inside and out. Still, he found the encounters to be like having sex with a machine and after one or two trips to the state-run brothels, he’d avoided them ever since. “I will enjoy myself—for both of us since you’re so dreading your mandatory sex,” Jorn said, laughing. “You don’t find it…impersonal?” Kerov asked, meaning both sex at the brothel and the state mandated encounters. “Sure I do, but who cares?” Jorn shrugged his narrow shoulders. “Fucking is fucking, my friend. The sooner you learn that, the sooner you’ll begin to enjoy your time with the lovely Xirnah.” He clapped Kerov on the shoulder once more and walked off, laughing.

Kerov sighed as he watched him go. He wished he could adopt his friend’s nonchalant attitude but somehow he couldn’t manage it. His parents, who had ed before the Ministry of Matching had come to power, always seemed so fond of each other—so “in love”, for want of a better word. Although the very idea of ionately loving one’s mate was now considered a quaint and outdated notion, it was the ideal that Kerov had been raised with. He couldn’t help ing the loving touches and kind words his parents often exchanged and comparing them with the stilted conversation and cold, mechanical encounters he had with Xirnah. He didn’t see his parents often now —he’d had to move closer to the base and the Ministry of War, which put his off-site quarters far from their domicile. But when he did manage to get back on State Holidays, his Sire and Mother always seemed as much in love as ever. It made Kerov feel like he had missed out on something somehow—something vital and important. As much as he tried, he couldn’t reduce sex to a purely biological function or a purely recreational one either. It ought to mean something, damn it! Ought to have some significance other than blowing off steam or producing offspring for the State. At least that was what he thought, when he let himself think about it at all. Overhead, the last whistle blew, signifying the end of the work day and letting everyone know it was time to wrap up tasks and get back to assigned domiciles and quarters. His underlings scattered and Kerov realized he’d stalled long enough. It was time to go home and get ready for his encounter with Xirnah. An encounter he was already beginning to dread.

“So he actually asked you out on a date?” Lacy leaned forward eagerly, sipping her Pumpkin Spice Latte with evident relish. She was a nurse over at University Community Hospital and since Frankie worked at the University Square Mall, down the street, they often tried to coordinate their break schedules to grab some girl time in the food court. “Oh, no—it wasn’t a date.” Frankie brushed off the idea, though she could feel her cheeks heating at the idea. “Of course it’s a date,” her best friend said, grinning. “I mean, he asked to come to your house and he told you he’s getting a divorce. That means he’s definitely interested.” “He’s only interested in having me TA for him,” Frankie insisted. “Which is a good thing—it would finally get me out of Victoria’s Suck-ret.” She took a sip of her matcha green tea slush. “Although I would miss our girl time.” “I’ll take an extra yoga class a week so we can be together—any one you teach, I’ll take,” Lacy vowed recklessly. “Even if it’s super hard-core with a ton of handstands and headstands and inversions.” Of course, since she was tall and thin, and “extra-bendy” as she put it, Lacy would probably be able to manage that kind of class—not that Frankie ever planned on teaching one. “I’m only going to be teaching the beginner classes to start with—and that’s if I Sheila’s final exam.” Frankie made a face. “You’d think getting my two hundred hour certificate from the Yoga Alliance would be enough but no—not if I want to teach at the Lotus Pond.” “But look how far you’ve come,” Lacy pointed out. “You know, it seems like just yesterday we were taking our first class. ? You wanted to take kick-boxing and I wanted yoga. We flipped a coin and yoga won—aren’t you glad it did?” “That was back when I was still with Carlos,” Frankie said. “I telling you I was going to scream if I couldn’t let off some tension and that was when you said we needed to take an exercise class together.” “Your ex is the one who really ought to be glad that coin toss led us to yoga,”

Lacy said, taking another sip of her juice. “If you were about to become a kickboxing master like you’re going to be a yoga master, you would have kicked his ass six ways to Sunday by now.” “Don’t tempt me.” Frankie sighed and swirled her straw through the green matcha slush in her glass. “You know my mom has been inviting him to family dinners lately? She and my abuela are just sure if I see him often enough I’ll magically want to go back to him.” “Ugh!” Lacy made a face. “That’s awful, Frankie—you should stop going.” “Like hell I will.” Frankie frowned. “I’m not going to let that hijo de puta keep me away from my own family—even if half of them think I’m crazy and the other half aren’t speaking to me.” “Is it really that bad?” Lacy squeezed her arm sympathetically. “I’ll come with you to the next one if you want—for moral . Only you’ll have to translate for me—you know how bad my Spanish is.” Frankie laughed. “As if I could forget! Do you think we would ever have gotten to be such good friends if Mr. Gonzalez hadn’t paired us up in tenth grade Spanish Class?” “I like to think so,” Lacy said comfortably, taking another sip of latte—none of which would settle on her slender figure or perfect little butt, Frankie was sure. “We’re kindred spirits, after all.” Frankie shivered. “Hey, don’t say the K word, all right? You know that since my divorce from Carlos is final I have to go for the draft.” “I’m surprised they reinstated it after all the trouble we had with them a while back,” Lacy remarked. “But I’m ed too and I’m not worried about it. Take it easy, Frankie—you know the chances of getting called as a Kindred bride are super slim.” “They’d better be,” said Frankie darkly. “My abuela would have another fainting spell if she knew I was having dinner with Professor Ramlow and he’s just white and Protestant. If I ended up with one of those freaking huge alien Kindred who aren’t even human, she’d probably have a heart attack.”

“All the more reason to keep it from her. And speaking of the sexy professor, you are going to go down to that new salon, Wax Me Beautiful, we were talking about, and get yourself looking all smooth and gorgeous in case the night gets amorous.” “I can’t afford that,” Frankie protested. “And even if I could, nothing is going to happen. Just because I had the nerve to get a divorce doesn’t mean I can shake a lifetime of being a good Catholic girl all at once.” “Yes, you can,” Lacy protested. “You haven’t gone on a single good date since you got away from that jerk, Carlos. You may be divorced from him but you’re acting like you’re still married and keeping your wedding vows. It’s high time you got some good nookie.” “I’m not going to—” Frankie began. “Well, just go get waxed anyway, in case you change your mind.” Lacy finished her latte and pointed her dripping straw at Frankie. “Do it, Frankie—you’ll feel like a whole new woman, I promise. And you can take my appointment—it’s already paid for and you can just pretend to be me.” “I can’t do that,” Frankie protested. “I can’t let you buy me such an expensive gift.” Lacy waved her protests away. “Oh please, I got it on Groupon so it was way cheaper than it would normally be. Besides, I was just getting it done because I was hoping Doctor Sloan would ask me out.” She sighed. “He didn’t though and the weekend is officially upon us. So you might as well take the appointment— you’ll get more use out of it than I would.” “He’ll ask you out next weekend,” Frankie said, squeezing her friend’s arm soothingly. “And if he doesn’t, he’s just an idiot who can’t see how gorgeous you are.” She finished her own drink. “And now I need to get going. I’ve only got one more hour left on my shift and then I’m out of here. “Good for you—some of us are working a double” Lacy sighed. “Maybe I should go back with you to VS and see if I can find some sexy underwear to cheer myself up before my dinner break is over. You should get some too, you know. To go with your new wax job.”

“I’m not getting waxed down there,” Frankie protested. “That would hurt too much! I’d rather shave.” “Shaving doesn’t get you nearly as smooth,” Lacy informed her. “And the waxing might hurt but it only takes a second. You have no idea how sexy you can feel until you have a fresh Brazilian and a new pair of naughty panties to go with it.” “I’ll consider it,” Frankie promised, sliding off her stool and pitching her plastic cup in the trash. “But for now, I really do have to get back. I just hope Mrs. Hofstadter isn’t going to show up at the end of my shift and want to talk my ear off.” “Is that the one who’s into all the super kinky BDSM?” Lacy asked with interest. Frankie nodded and shivered. “Which wouldn’t be so bad if she wasn’t seventy-five. I swear the things she tells me she and her hubby get up to—yuck!” Lacy smothered a smile. “Hey, give her a break! Personally, I’m inspired by her. I think it’s amazing that a woman in her seventies is still getting busy.” “I have no problem with her getting busy,” Frankie said. “I just don’t want to have to hear all the dirty—and I do mean dirty—details. And I don’t care that she’s seventy-five—I wouldn’t want to hear them if she was twenty-five. It’s just too much information.” “Well just think, you’ll be out of there soon. TA-ing for the sexy professor and teaching yoga like nobody’s business. You’re going to be amazing.” “What I’m going to be is tired.” Frankie yawned. It had been a long day and she would be glad to get home and take a hot bubble bath before crawling into bed. Lacy yawned too. “Me too. You know, I think I’ll just head back to UCH, hon. I need to conserve my strength if I’m going to get through the second half of this double.” “Okay—talk soon,” Frankie said, giving her a hug.

“All right and I’ll text you the details for that waxing appointment.” Lacy hugged her back. “And you better go. Believe me, you’ll be thanking me later when you want to get busy with the sexy professor.” Frankie laughed and shook her head. “All right, all right. I’ll tell you all about the date tomorrow night after he goes.” “Unless he stays the night.” Lacy waggled her perfectly shaped eyebrows expressively, making Frankie laugh again. “Yeah, right—whatever. Never gonna happen. I’m not letting any man stay the night at my place.” “You might be surprised,” Lacy said mysteriously as she left. Frankie waved her friend’s words away and went back to her job. Luckily Mrs. Hofstadter didn’t make her usual appearance and so Frankie was able to get through the store closing routine fairly quickly. At the end of the night, before the s closed, she even picked out a nice bra and panty set—a black lace one that minimized her butt—well, as much as it could be minimized—and a sexy bra to match. Lacy was right—who knew what might happen? She might end up with a man staying the night at her place after all… The ride home wasn’t too long and Frankie was able to get her bubble bath and climb into bed in fairly short order. Which was perfect—she needed a good night’s sleep because she had a very busy weekend planned. Between the waxing appointment, her yoga final exam, her “date” with Professor Ramlow, and the weekly family dinner where Carlos was sure to put in an appearance, she was going to be running from sunup ‘til sundown all day Saturday and Sunday. That’s all right though, she told herself comfortingly as she snuggled down into her worn but clean cotton sheets. I can handle this. I’m ready for anything… Or so she thought. But then she started to dream…

Two

It was such a vivid dream Frankie almost thought it must be real. But how could it be? She was in a subway station—at least, it looked kind of like a subway station. There was a vast underground space hollowed out with people rushing back and forth, all of them obviously in a hurry to get where they were going. And she was walking along with them, using a swift, purposeful stride as her boot heels clicked on the hard, shiny black surface of the floor. Wait—her boot heels? Frankie looked down at her feet, frowning. She didn’t own boots—there was no point, living in Tampa where you could live in flipflops almost all year round. But sure enough, she had on black, shiny boots that came up to her knees. They were kind of nice, actually—if a little too masculine for Frankie’s taste. Only…why did her feet look so big? And what else was she wearing? Black tros with a red stripe up the side and a red uniform type shirt were what met her eyes when she looked down. That was weird—Frankie didn’t owning any outfits that looked like this! As she looked around, she noticed that everyone else in the crowded subway was wearing strange clothing too—all of them were in one kind of uniform or another. Here a group of blonde women in dull blue jumpsuits with red sashes wrapped around their waists rushed to catch a train. And ing on her right were a bunch of tall men wearing olive green tros and matching green uniform shirts. Like the women, they had narrow shoulders and white-blond hair. Each had a large black badge pinned to his right shoulder and was wearing broad, black belt. Everywhere she looked it was the same—people wearing clothing like she’d never seen before. And most of them seemed to have white-blonde hair. Where was she anyway, Sweden? And what was the deal with this subway station? Instead of plain or tiled concrete walls, it appeared to be lined with large, flat TV screens. Every spare inch of wall space, and some of the ceiling space too, was filled with a never ending stream of images and information. Between the screens, the echoing sound of many feet, and the rush and hiss of the trains which must be running somewhere in the distance, Frankie could barely hear herself think. And yet, as she looked around, she noticed that no one seemed to be talking. They all had serious, intent looks on their faces as if they were in a hurry to go do something

very important. Apparently she was in a hurry too. Her brisk strides carried her along through the crowds until she came to a long row of turnstiles. They were floor-to ceiling affairs with metal bars separating the crowded underground tunnel into two parts. The more she looked at them, the more Frankie thought they looked like jail cells rather than turnstiles. The fact that tall men in black uniforms were patrolling back and forth on both sides of them only enforced the image. As Frankie watched, someone at the front of the line apparently tried to cheat the turnstile or get in when he wasn’t supposed to. It was a man in a ragged brown outfit that looked like it hadn’t been washed in a while. When he got up to the tall metal bars, instead of sliding open for him, they stayed shut and a red light began blinking over his head. At once one of the officers in black uniforms came around and dragged the man out of the crowd, over to the side. He had some kind of silver weapon or truncheon in his hand. Frankie saw it rise and fall and heard the offender squealing in pain as the sudden, brutal punishment was istered. She couldn’t stop staring but no one else in the crowd even seemed to notice— apparently this kind of thing happened all the time. Frankie became suddenly aware that she didn’t have a ticket or a card of any kind and she was getting closer to the jail door-turnstiles all the time. She began to panic but she was being pushed inexorably forward by the crowd behind her which had now swelled to either hundreds or thousands—it was very difficult to tell in the low, underground space lit mainly by the glow of the large, flat screens. Up until now, Frankie had been allowing herself to be carried along in the momentum of the dream—because it had to be a dream, didn’t it? She had never been to a place like this or seen people like these. When words scrolled by on the bottom of the screens, she didn’t recognize the language or indeed, even the alphabet. So she had to be dreaming all this, safe at home in her bed, right? But dream or no dream, she didn’t wish to take a vicious beating just because she couldn’t find her ticket. She began to fight against the crowd, trying to get to the side, to get away from the turnstiles and their guards. To her surprise, she was able to make some headway, even in the packed area.

She realized that she was taller than almost everyone here—taller and stronger too. Which was crazy—she was always shorter than almost everyone, not taller. And though she had worked hard on her upper body strength in order to do the inversions and head and hand stands required in more advanced yoga classes, she still wasn’t strong enough to muscle her way through a packed crowd. Yet, that was what she was doing…only not fast enough. Before she knew it, Frankie had come to the end of the row of turnstiles with only one person in line in front of her. She watched to see what that person—a girl in a dull yellow uniform jumpsuit—would do. To her surprise, the girl simply put her hand to a black pad on the side of the turnstile. Her hand was briefly outlined in brilliant green light and the barred door slid open for her. Then it closed again and suddenly Frankie was next. She stood there, hesitating, wondering what would happen if she pressed her hand to the pad. She didn’t belong here—would the mechanism inside the turnstile sense that? The crowd behind her was shoving forward, clearly wondering what was happening and why they weren’t moving. But Frankie was an interloper—what if she got shocked? Or what if the black uniformed guard who was standing to one side grabbed her and started beating her with the long, silver metal truncheon she saw shoved into his belt. Or what if— “Who are you?” Frankie looked around but the voice wasn’t coming from anyone around her—no one she could see, anyway. “Who in the Seven Hells are you?” the voice demanded again. It was deep and masculine—a man’s voice. “And what are you doing here?” “I don’t know,” Frankie said aloud. “I don’t know where I am.” Several of the people behind her were glaring at her now and the black uniformed guard was beginning to take an interest in her—doubtless for holding up the line. “You’re in the pubtrans station. But more to the point, you’re in me,” the voice told her. “What the fuck are you doing in my body?”

And then Frankie realized…the voice was coming from inside her head. But was it her head? Was she really in someone else’s body? How was that possible, even in a dream? “Is there a problem here?” The guard who had been eyeing her suspiciously came forward, glaring at her through the metal bars. He had the same whiteblond hair as almost everyone else and narrow shoulders with a tall, slender build. But skinny or not, the way he fingered his metal truncheon was distinctly menacing. Frankie just looked at him, not knowing what to say. “I said is there a problem here, Kindred?” the guard snarled, glaring at her— making the name into a curse. “Tell him no! For fuck’s sake, tell him no and put my hand to the scanner!” demanded the voice in her head—if it was her head which Frankie was beginning to doubt. “Um…no,” she said and her voice came out sounding deep and masculine—as deep as the voice in her head. “No…no problem, officer.” “Now raise my hand and put it on the scanner,” the male voice instructed. “I’d do it myself but you’ve taken over all my functions. All I can do is watch.” Hesitantly, Frankie raised her right hand (the man’s right hand?) and placed it on the black pad on the side of the turnstile. She half expected to get a shock but the hand—which definitely wasn’t hers because it was much too large and masculine looking—was outlined in green light and then the barred door slid aside, allowing her to . She walked through in a daze, still examining her hand. It was large—very large —with long, well-shaped fingers and very clean nails which she liked. There was nothing worse than a man with dirty fingernails. Carlos had always had dirt under his nails which disgusted her… “Hey—you can’t just stop walking in the middle of a busy thru-way,” the masculine voice barked sharply in her head. “You’ve got to keep moving or that Peace Keeper is going to suspect something. He’s still watching us, you know!”

“Where am I supposed to go?” Frankie demanded in a low voice. She supposed she did look kind of crazy, standing still in the middle of a crowded walkway and studying her hand. But this was so weird, damn it—even for a dream! “Just keep walking—head down the right hand hallway. The two-oh-one transport is the one you want.” Frankie walked as the voice ordered, keeping quiet though she was burning to ask a lot more questions. But she didn’t want to look like she was talking to herself so she kept silent until she found the train the voice had ordered her to take. It was a long, sleek, bullet shaped thing with a shiny black surface that almost looked like liquid oil. Frankie was sure it was just a trick of the light but when it whooshed to an almost silent stop in front of her, the shiny skin shivered and then melted open—there was no other word for it—to form an oval door. “Eww!” she exclaimed involuntarily, taking a step back and causing heads to turn in her direction. “What the Hell—?” “Keep your voice down,” the voice in her head instructed tersely. “Talking in public places isn’t encouraged here. The State prefers all citizens to be silent in crowded conditions to minimize confusion.” “What?” Frankie asked—in a whisper since she was trying to obey the order. “You’re not allowed to talk in public here?” “Not unless you want a citation,” the voice informed her. “Now get on the damned transport so I can figure out what to do.” Frankie was reluctant to go through the melted opening in the shiny black train but she didn’t see what else she could do. Ducking her head, she stepped in, being extremely careful not to brush against the edges of the “door.” This was surprisingly hard to do since her shoulders were now extremely broad and the opening seemed to be made for someone with a much narrower frame. Still, she somehow managed and found herself standing in the middle of a crowded subway car. The seats on either side were taken, as was much of the standing room. “Walk to the end of the transport,” the voice in her head commanded. “It’s

usually empty there. We can talk.” There certainly did seem to be a lot to talk about. Frankie began making her way to the back of the long train but it was so crowded she found it impossible to move without shouldering people aside. “Excuse me,” she murmured, as she tried to squeeze past some men with narrow shoulders who were standing in the center of the car. “Pardon me—excuse me. Oh—I’m so sorry!” she exclaimed when she stepped on a woman’s foot. The woman looked at her mutely with something like shock on her face. Had she not understood what Frankie said? “I said, I’m sorry I stepped on your foot,” she said to the woman again. “I didn’t mean to do that—are you okay?” “Shut up!” roared the voice in her head, so loudly that Frankie winced, certain that someone else must have heard it. “I was just apologizing,” she muttered under her breath as she continued her journey to the back of the train. “What’s wrong with that? Don’t you people have manners here? Wherever here is?” “Not in a crowded transport,” the voice retorted. “Just keep quiet and push to the back. And I do mean push—you have to if you want to get through this crowd. And don’t apologize. You might as well hang a sign around my neck that says “Switched.” Frankie wanted to ask what he meant by “Switched” but she kept her mouth grimly shut and pushed her way to the back of the train as he had instructed, even though it went against every bit of good manners her mother had taught her. She did try to avoid stepping on any more feet which was hard in the big black boots she was wearing. She thought longingly of her little pink flip-flops with the rhinestones on the straps—and of her size five feet that went in them. The boots—and feet—she was wearing now had to be a size fourteen at the least and that was a conservative estimate. How did he—the guy whose body she was somehow currently inhabiting—stand being so big and tall? Although, it had been useful when she was trying to push her way through the crowd earlier…

“Here—this will do. Take a seat in the back of the car.” Frankie looked up from her huge boots and realized she had finally reached the back of the train. There was only one other enger in this car—a large, scruffy looking man with a battered and patched gray coat and a week’s worth of beard stubble on his jaw. Immediately, she felt unsafe. No way did she want to share a car with this guy who was already eyeing her balefully. She started to back out of the car but the voice in her head barked at her again. “Where are you going? The other cars are full—sit!” “No,” Frankie muttered under her breath. “You’re crazy! I’m not sitting alone in a car with that guy!” He sighed in her head. “Fine—I understand if you want privacy. It’s actually a good idea. Go up to him and tell him he’s in your seat and you want him gone. Then we can speak without fear of anyone overhearing you.” “What? You want me to pick a fight with him now?” Frankie couldn’t believe him. “I’m not doing that! I’m not going anywhere near him. It’s not safe.” “What do you mean it’s not safe?” The voice sounded increasingly exasperated. He’s just a common wanderer. I could oust him from the transport without even drawing my blaster.” “Your blaster? You mean a gun?” Frankie looked down at her side and saw something she’d missed before—there was a huge weapon strapped to her hip. It was what Carlos, who was into all those first person shooter video games, would have called a “hand cannon.” “Madre di Dios,” she muttered, so upset that she automatically fell back into Spanish. “You’re wearing a freaking gun on a crowded subway train! What kind of a psycho are you anyway?” “I don’t know what a ‘psycho’ is but if you don’t keep your voice down we’re going to be discovered! I’m a Battalion Commander so of course I’m armed,” he said impatiently. “Now get rid of the wanderer so we can talk in private. I have to figure out what to do before I get back to my quarters and find Xirnah waiting

for me.” “Xirnah? Who’s Xirnah?” Frankie demanded. “Never mind—just get rid of that wanderer!” But the ragged looking man with the scruffy beard was already moving away without being asked. He cast side-long glances in Frankie’s direction as he hastily exited the car and she suddenly realized he was afraid of her. Or rather, afraid of the body she was somehow inhabiting. Maybe there were some advantages to being bigger and stronger than everyone else. Although it was likely he was just as frightened by the fact that she had a massive gun strapped to her side and appeared to be talking to herself. “Whew.” She sank down on one of the silver metal seats with a sigh of relief. Now maybe she could finally get some answers. “Okay,” she said to the voice in her head. “Where is this place, who are you, and how did I get here…er, inside you, I mean?” She was hoping he knew because she had no clue herself. “My name is Kerov—Kerov Volx, Battalion Commander in the Forty-third Regiment. And this place is Yarnoth,” he replied. “Yarnoth?” she asked blankly. “Yes, Yarnoth,” he said impatiently. “You know—the capital city?” “No, I don’t,” Frankie said honestly. “The capital city of where? Someplace in the Middle East maybe?” “The Middle East? What are you speaking of? Everyone knows Yarnoth is on the west side of the continent.” “Which continent though?” Frankie demanded. “I live in North America. Where is this?” “North America?” The voice—no, Kerov she reminded herself—sounded truly puzzled now. “I have never heard of such a place.”

“Never heard of North America?” Frankie asked blankly. “What about the United Sates…? Florida…? Tampa…? Earth?” “Earth? As in the planet that the Kindred Mother Ship is currently protecting?” “Well, I don’t know if I’d say they were protecting us right now—they did when the Scourge first came and after that we had some trouble but…” Then his words finally sank in. “Wait a minute—are you saying you’re a Kindred? And that I’m not even on Earth right now?” “Yes, I’m Kindred. And this is Tarsia Six. We are not even in the same galaxy as your planet.” “Seriously? Dios!” Frankie put her head in her hands, feeling suddenly dizzy. “I can’t believe this! This is the weirdest freaking dream I’ve ever had in my life!” “This is no dream,” Kerov informed her grimly. “This is our reality now—we’ve been Switched.”

Three

“Switched? What does that even mean?” the female who was currently inhabiting—and controlling—his body demanded. She sounded slightly hysterical but Kerov guessed he couldn’t blame her—after all, he knew what was going on, or thought he did—and it was still a shock to him. If she had no knowledge of Switching or Trading or Jumping as his people had called it, she would doubtless be doubly upset. But he didn’t need her losing control and drawing a crowd on the public transport, so he hastened to explain. “Switching is a curse—well some called it a talent—my people once had,” he told her. “It enabled them to trade bodies with their bonded mates for a short time.” “But…but I’m not your mate. I don’t even know you.” It sounded strange to hear his own voice speaking words he hadn’t thought of but Kerov supposed he would have to get used to it—at least for now. And though the voice was coming out in his own deep tones, the person inhabiting him was unmistakably feminine. He could feel it as surely as he could feel her inside him. “I’m aware that we’re not mated and we don’t know each other,” he told her. “And believe me, I don’t have any idea how this could have happened. The genetic trait for Switching was supposed to have been bred out of my people long ago. In fact, there hasn’t been a true Trader or Jumper as they were sometimes called, in over a century.” “So…this used to be normal for you? For your people?” she demanded in a low voice—in his voice—Gods, he couldn’t get over how strange it was! “This…two people inhabiting one body like this?” “No, no,” Kerov told her quickly. “I believe what we have here is what used to be called an ‘incomplete Switch.’ In a true Switch the male completely takes over the female’s body and vice versa.” “But we’re both in your body,” she pointed out in a trembling voice. “So where does that leave me? What’s going on with my body? Is someone else inside it? Or is it…am I…dead?” She whispered the last word and Kerov could feel her horror at the idea. “Am I stuck in here forever?” she demanded. “Stuck in you?”

“You’re not dead,” he said quickly. “Most likely you’re only sleeping. Or your body is, anyway.” “All right…okay. I’m okay then.” She drew in a deep, shaky breath and Kerov felt his lungs expand even though he couldn’t inhale and expand them himself. Gods, it was a bizarre sensation to be able to feel and experience everything that happened to his body without being able to control it! “As for if you’re stuck here, I don’t know. I hope not,” he continued. “I have heard of incomplete Switches but only in legends and most of those have been forgotten since the State started trying to eradicate the Switching gene.” “Okay, legends are better than nothing—there’s often a lot of truth hiding in them,” she said encouragingly. “Tell me about the legends—what do they say about…about incomplete Switches?” Kerov sighed—mentally anyway. “From what I , they are sort of an extreme kind of Dream Sharing. But I don’t dreaming of you—I still don’t know who you are or what you look like.” “I’m Frankie,” she said. “sca Benita Hermosa Rodriguez but Frankie for short. And I have dreamed of you—just this morning.” “You have?” Kerov was surprised. Dream Sharing was another trait the State had somehow managed to eradicate among the Kindred population. In fact, he only knew about it because he’d heard his parents speak of it. “Yes,” she said firmly. “I now—I dreamed of you in your uniform— this uniform. At least, I think it was you. I guess I won’t know for sure until I see your face.” “Look to your left—the glass here is dark enough to act as a reflective surface,” Kerov told her. She turned her head—his head, Gods, he still couldn’t get used to this—and looked at the reflective surface. “Oh…” Her hand went to her cheek (Kerov decided it was easier to think of his

body as hers for now, though he was by no means giving it up for good) and her eyes widened. “Oh my—it’s you. You really are the guy in my dreams!” An expression of bewilderment crossed her face. “Or now I’m the guy in my dreams. Dios, this is so confusing.” “You’re not the only one who’s confused,” Kerov assured her dryly. “I didn’t think Switching was possible anymore and I certainly never expected to Switch with a female who isn’t even in my same galaxy.” “Okay but we are Switched,” Frankie said practically. “So what can we do about it? How can we fix it?” “We can’t,” Kerov said bluntly. “At least, not right away. Since a partial or incomplete Switch is an extension of Dream Sharing, all we can do is go to sleep and hope that when we wake up, we’ll be in our right bodies.” “So that’s your prescription for the whole Body Snatchers thing—just sleep on it?” she demanded. “Do you have a better idea?” Kerov growled. “Because if you do, I would love to hear it.” “No.” She sighed. “No, I don’t. Okay, so let’s go back to your place and…and try to sleep it off, I guess.” Kerov shifted uncomfortably—mentally, at least. “Well, we can’t exactly do that yet.” “What? Why not?” she demanded. “Wouldn’t you agree that the sooner we get me out of your body the better? I think we should go to sleep right away! In fact, do you guys have sleeping pills here? Maybe some melatonin?” “We can’t go to sleep yet because you came at the worst time possible,” he growled. Well, maybe that wasn’t exactly true. It would have been worse if she’d taken him over in the middle of a battle with the Swarm. Then she might well have gotten him killed. But still, Switching just at the time of his State-mandated sexual encounter was pretty bad. How in the world was he going to manage

tonight without alerting Xirnah? Kerov knew his State-assigned sexual partner was looking for a way to get out of their partnership. If she had even an inkling that he had Switched with a female —even an incomplete Switch—she would have all the ammunition she needed to sever their relationship. And in the process, she would get him discredited and ruin his career. She might even get him imprisoned or executed! The State wasn’t known for its leniency in such matters. He could pretend he was sick—but any refusal of a State-mandated sexual encounter was met with an automatic investigation. Refusing to couple with her would result in several higher order Peace Keepers coming to his house and demanding legitimate proof of why he had been unwilling or unable to service her. He couldn’t risk that kind of detailed inspection. Having sex with Xirnah in this state was incredibly risky but refusing was even more so. In short, there was no way around it—he would have to go through with the sexual encounter—or Frankie (what a strange name) would have to do it for him. Inwardly, he sighed. This was going to be incredibly awkward—as if having sex with Xirnah wasn’t already awkward enough. “So what are you talking about I came at the worst time?” Frankie asked, breaking his frantic train of thought. “Like there’s any good time to suddenly wake up inside someone else’s body while they are still inside it?” “It’s probably a good thing we have an incomplete Switch,” Kerov pointed out. “It’s easier to undo—at least, I think it is. And if we’d had a complete Switch and you woke up inside my body without me to guide you, you wouldn’t have had any idea what to do on my world.” “I’m pretty sure my world would be damn confusing to you too,” she snapped. “Now tell me why I came at the wrong time and what it has to do with not going straight to sleep to switch us back.” Mentally, Kerov took a deep breath. “You came right before my State-mandated sexual encounter,” he explained stiffly. “Your State-mandated what?” He could hear the incredulity in her voice. “Please

tell me you’re not saying what I think you’re saying.” “I don’t know—what do you think I’m saying?” Actually, he wished he did know what she was thinking—he was able to catch some of her emotions but her thoughts remained elusive. “I think it sounds like you’re saying that your government or State or whatever ruling body is in charge here, tells you when to have sex,” Frankie said cautiously. “But that can’t be right, can it?” “It can and it is,” Kerov itted heavily. “The Ministry of Matching matches each individual to a partner for weekly conjugal visits as soon as they reach sexual maturity.” “I can’t believe this,” she said blankly. “It’s just…too weird. So you’re saying I dropped into your body just when you’re about to have your weekly sexy times?” “I’d hardly call it ‘sexy’” Kerov said dryly. “But yes, that’s what it amounts to.” “Then I guess we have to make an excuse to your, uh, partner.” Frankie cleared her throat. “Um…is it a man or a woman if you don’t mind me asking?” “It’s a female of course,” Kerov informed her stiffly. “I have no interest in other males. And we cannot make an excuse to Xirnah. It would result in an immediate investigation into my intimate circumstances to why I was unable to service her.” “Service her? Wow—now that’s romantic,” Frankie said sarcastically. “Only I would be the one ‘servicing’ her in this case and I’m not interested in other women any more than you are in other men.” “But you have a male body now—my body,” Kerov pointed out, trying to control his irritation. “And if you don’t copulate with Xirnah she will report me and I will be investigated for non-sexual compliance. That would result in disaster if it was discovered that I was guilty of Switching.” “Guilty of Switching? Dios! But it’s not your fault!” she exclaimed so loudly that Kerov jumped.

“Say it louder, why don’t you? I don’t think the people in the front of the transport heard you,” he snarled. “Sorry,” Frankie said more softly, sounding genuinely contrite. “I’ll try to keep it down. I wish you could hear my thoughts so we could communicate without me speaking out loud.” “I think that’s possible with a Complete or Full Switch,” Kerov said doubtfully. “But I don’t think it will be possible for us. Try it—think something to me.” She was silent for a moment and for a second he almost thought he heard… something. But mostly it was her emotions he felt—the feeling of concentrating hard on something that was frustrating her. At last Frankie asked, “Did you hear that? What I was thinking?” “I’m afraid not,” Kerov said. “But I did get some of your emotions. It’s possible that with some practice we could communicate exclusively on the mental plane without you speaking at all. But I think it will take some time.” “Well, we don’t have any time tonight and hopefully after we go to sleep we’ll wake up in our own bodies. So we’ll just have to get along with my whispering to you for now,” Frankie said. Overhead, a sexless, mechanical voice announced, “Next stop Pernoth Station. Ministry of Agriculture, Ministry of Conduct, Grand Central Marketplace.” “That’s my stop,” Kerov told her. “And I’m running late because of the delay in the station. Xirnah will be waiting for me and she will not be happy. Will you help me out or not?” “Well…” Kerov could feel her debating, the uncertainty flowing through the limited link they seemed to share. “Please,” he made himself say. “If I don’t service Xirnah tonight I will be investigated. And if it comes out that I have Switched—even incompletely—with a female, my career will be ruined. I may even be sent to prison for the rest of my life or executed.”

Inside, he felt her relenting. “All right,” she murmured tersely. “I’ll try but I don’t know how into it I can be. I kissed a girl once at a party in high school but that was on a dare and I never really, uh, considered going farther than that.” “You don’t have to be very engaged at all,” Kerov promised her as the transport came to a halt. “In fact, it’s better if you’re not. Just usher Xirnah into my quarters, sit on the sensu-chairs with her until my body is ready to perform, then take her into the sleeping chamber and copulate with her. Inseminate her exactly once and then you can withdraw.” “You make it sound so romantic,” Frankie muttered as she rose and left the transport. “All right, I’ll do my best although I have no idea how to work your equipment.” “It’s not that difficult,” Kerov told her. “The senu-chair activates as soon as you sit on it.” “No, not that equipment. I meant your, uh…” She gestured between her legs. “I mean how do I make it, you know, hard?” “That’s what the sensu-chair is for. You’ll see,” Kerov said. “Truly, if you just do exactly what I told you, the whole encounter with Xirnah can be over in fifteen meems.” “Meem? Is that like a minute?” “I don’t know what a minute is. A meem is a very short period of time. Take the first exit to the left out of the station,” Kerov directed. “Then up the circular ramp and out onto the main walkway.” “Got it.” “Good. And now I really think we should stop talking because there are too many people around. I’ll give you directions but don’t answer me—just do as I say and you’ll be fine.” “Fine,” she said tersely. Kerov could feel some resistance from her but he couldn’t help that—he couldn’t have her mumbling to herself in a public place.

At best it would look like he had lost his mind—at worst someone might guess that he had Switched. Though there hadn’t been an instance of Switching in years, he was still viewed with suspicion because of his obviously Kindred heritage. He watched out of his own eyes, feeling like a helpless enger, as Frankie navigated her way out of the pubtrans station. She seemed to be adapting to his world now. He only hoped that she could pull off his State-mandated encounter with Xirnah without causing any suspicion in his partner. If not, he was going to be in a universe of trouble.

Frankie made her way through the crowded tunnels until she came to the broad ramp which reminded her of a cross between a circular stairway and a moving sidewalk. She stepped onto it and found herself going around and around in circles until she was deposited onto a landing platform outside the station. She would have liked to have a chance to look around—after all, she’d never been off of Earth before and she’d always been interested in other cultures. But there were still crowds of people coming up behind her, all of them seemingly in a hurry. So she got directly onto another moving walkway—a straight one this time, painted in multicolored stripes—which Kerov said was headed in the direction of his quarters. At last she thought she would get a chance to relax a minute and look around. There were rows and rows of high, gray buildings on all sides, lit by round blue street lights that seemed to hover in midair with no poles to them. It was dark and overhead rose three moons—one large and golden and two smaller. One had a slight bluish cast and the other was pink. Alien stars twinkled down from above, making Frankie feel very far from home indeed. But no sooner had she begun to examine her surroundings, than Kerov started speaking in her head again, giving her instructions. “No, not on this stripe—the blue stripe is the slow lane. Work your way to the left to the red stripe. Hurry! I’m already late.” For a guy who wanted a favor from her—and a big one too—he was being awfully bossy, in Frankie’s opinion. But she could feel his anxiety about the date and decided he was probably just worried about being late to meet his government-appointed girlfriend. It seemed extremely weird that the government played matchmaker between the people here but Frankie guessed she could see the point—at least a little. They probably have them do all kinds of personality tests and then match them with their ideal person—the one who’s just perfect for them, she reasoned to herself. She felt curious to see who Kerov’s ideal woman was—what was his idea of perfection? But she couldn’t spare much time to picture her host’s perfect girl—she needed

all her focus to get across the moving walkway. The blue stripe where she had started was at the far right. Beside it was the slightly faster green stripe and beside it was the much faster orange. Finally, on the far left was the red stripe, which was whizzing along so fast Frankie almost had to run as she hopped onto it. It seemed like a very unsafe way to travel, even if it was kind of fun, but the people here seemed completely used to it. Frankie saw men and women hopping deftly between the different stripes, speeding up and slowing down as though it was no big deal. Each stripe was big enough for two people walking side-by-side so there was a standing lane and a ing lane. Franking was in the standing part of the red stripe and she looked around, watching as the tall gray rows of buildings rushed past her. It felt like she was moving in fast forward. “Good,” Kerov said inside her head. “Now get to the far left of the red stripe and walk as fast as you can.” “All right,” Frankie muttered, forgetting she wasn’t supposed to answer. “But I must be going twenty or thirty miles an hour here. How do I stop when we get to your house?” “There’s an off ramp about a quarter click ahead. When I tell you, put your hand to the blue railing and plant your feet. You’ll be carried around the curve almost to my front step. Now stop talking!” “Like anybody could hear me at this speed,” Frankie muttered resentfully. How was she supposed to learn anything if she wasn’t allowed to ask questions? And she was sure the people traveling around her weren’t paying attention to her— they were all too busy getting where they were going. But she shut up and resolved not to ask Kerov another thing. She was just going to have to manage on her own until they could get someplace private to talk again. Soon enough she heard him say, “Here. Put your hand down now!” Automatically she grabbed for the blue railing at her left. It lit up around her hand and she saw a curving ramp which shot off from the main walkway up ahead. Keeping her hand clutched tightly to the railing, she planted her feet and was shuttled off the main walkway and onto the ramp. The ramp was much slower than the red stripe of the walkway had been and

soon Frankie found herself stepping off of it onto a plain non-moving concrete street. At least, the street seemed to be made of concrete, or the equivalent of it. It was a faded red that looked purplish in the glow from the hovering streetlights overhead. She was standing in front of a row of gray houses that were built together like brownstones back on Earth. The sidewalks here were stationary and Frankie had been whizzing along for so long it almost felt strange to walk in the normal fashion again. She wondered which house in the long row was Kerov’s and was about to ask him, even though she had promised herself not to ask any more questions, when she heard him make a noise of dismay in her head. “I was afraid of this—Xirnah is already there and waiting for me.” Frankie looked along the row of houses and saw a tall woman with perfectly coifed white-blonde hair standing in front of one of them, tapping her toe impatiently. She was wearing some kind of white overcoat-type garment with black buttons and a sour expression on her lovely face. Wow, she looks pissed-off, Frankie thought but very carefully did not say aloud. Apparently Kerov thought the same thing because he said, “She must have been waiting for some time. She looks very upset.” Frankie took a deep breath. It looked like she had her work cut out for her—she had to calm down this angry woman and then somehow have sex with her. Oh God, how was she going to manage that? It’s okay, she thought, giving herself a little pep-talk as she walked (confidently, she hoped) towards Kerov’s girlfriend. I can do this. I have male equipment now and really how hard can it be? Well, not hard at all if she did exactly what Kerov had described. But somehow she couldn’t imagine the angry looking woman—who had spotted her now and was glaring daggers in her direction—being up for a wham-bam-thank-youma’am encounter. No, Frankie was going to have to charm her panties off first. Okay. That’s okay, she told herself nervously. I can be charming… I think. And as for the other stuff—the part where she actually had to use the new male

body parts she had suddenly acquired when she Switched into Kerov’s body, well, she would deal with that when the time came. Speaking of those body parts, Frankie was suddenly very aware of them as she walked down the street to meet the woman—to meet Xirnah, she reminded herself. She had been too busy figuring out what the hell was happening to her and navigating both the subway train and the moving walkway to think about it much before but now she realized how strange she felt. Her chest was broad and flat and muscular with no breasts to bob or sway in front of her as she walked. And she could feel the heavy weight of testicles and a penis, kind of like a large, fleshy noodle dangling between her legs. Dios, how do men walk with these things? She felt awkward but hoped she looked normal as she stopped in front of the woman. “I have been waiting for twenty-three meems.” Xirnah tapped a small, dull metal time piece that was embedded like a jewel in a plain-looking ring on her right middle finger. “I was about to leave, and would have been well within my Statemandated rights to do so.” Frankie looked her up and down. So this was Kerov’s dream woman. Well, she was certainly pretty enough. In fact, she could have been a supermodel back on Earth. She had high cheekbones sharp enough to cut glass and her platinum blonde hair was swirled like an ice cream cone on top of her head in an elegant up-do. The white coat was cinched around a tiny waist and the rest of her figure was stick-thin—from her prominent collar bones to her bird-like wrists and ankles. Even her earlobes looked skinny. But Frankie didn’t have long to size up the woman she was supposed to have sex with because Kerov was already talking in her mind. “Apologize,” he ordered. “Tell her you were unavoidably delayed at the base by a superior.” Frankie opened her mouth to repeat what he’d said but somehow it didn’t sound right. “Unavoidably delayed” sounded like the kind of excuse you’d give to a business associate—not a lover. And treating Xirnah like they were just doing a business transaction was not going to make her more inclined to forgive and forget and get busy. At least, Frankie knew it wouldn’t have worked on her. She tried to think how Carlos had sweet-talked her, back when their marriage had

still meant something. “Hey, baby,” she said casually, coming up and putting an arm around the other woman’s shoulders. “Sorry I’m late—I got held up at work. But you know I was thinking about you all the way home, hoping you’d wait for me.” “What?” The blonde woman looked at her, wide-eyed. She had very dark eyes that looked almost purple to Frankie but maybe it was just the light from the weird blue hovering streetlights. “I said I missed you and I’m sorry I’m late,” Frankie flashed the other woman what she hoped was a charming and contrite smile. “You look beautiful tonight. Why don’t we go in and get out of the cold?” “What are you saying?” Kerov spoke up inside her head. “Why are you speaking to her like that?” Frankie wanted to tell him she was being charming and to leave her alone because it was working. At least, it seemed to be because Xirnah was coming with her up the short flight of steps to the door of the gray brownstone-type house she’d been waiting in front of. Reaching the door, Frankie had a moment of panic when she realized she didn’t have the key. And a quick check of Kerov’s pockets revealed that he didn’t either. How in the hell was she going to get them into the house? Then her eyes fell on a black rectangular pad just like the kind by the turnstiles in the subway station. It was mounted by the side of the door, about waist height. Saying a quick prayer of thanks, Frankie pressed her hand to the pad and watched as it was briefly outlined in green. There was a soft clicking sound and the door swung open to reveal a small, plain entryway. “Ladies first.” Frankie stepped to one side and gestured with one hand, indicating that Xirnah should precede her into the house. Giving her a doubtful look, Xirnah walked inside. She was wearing white boots which clicked on the black floor. Frankie followed the other woman, hoping she was doing all right. Kerov hadn’t said anything else so maybe everything was okay. Once inside the dark house, Frankie felt for the light switch. Where was the

damn thing? And how was she supposed to— “What are you doing?” Kerov demanded. “Why don’t you illuminate the overhead glows?” “How?” Frankie demanded, forgetting she wasn’t supposed to ask questions out loud. “How what?” Xirnah asked, frowning at her. “How…uh, how have you been since the last time we, um, got together?” Frankie said quickly as she continued to fumble on the dark wall. Where the hell did they put the switches? “Just say ‘Lights’ in a loud voice,” Kerov told her. “Lights!” Frankie exclaimed, her deep, masculine voice ringing in the dark space. It was so loud it scared her and she jumped—Dios it was strange to hear such a deep voice coming out when she spoke! At once the whole house was illuminated with a harsh, glaring light that reminded her of the glow of fluorescents. “I’ve been well, thank you,” Xirnah said stiffly. “You’ve been…?” It took Frankie a minute to understand that the woman was answering her earlier question. Damn, it was confusing to try and carry on two conversations at once! Especially when one of them was private and only in her head. “I said I’ve been well. Now can we please get on with this?” Xirnah snapped. Well she might be pretty but she’s kind of a bitch, Frankie thought, frowning. But still, she had promised to do her best with Kerov’s girlfriend and she didn’t want to screw things up. She would just have to try twice as hard. “Let me take your coat,” she offered, reaching for Xirnah’s shoulders to try and help her out of the white coat she was wearing. “Stop it!” Xirnah shied away from her hands as though her touch was poison.

“At least wait until we’ve sat on the sensu-chairs a few meems! You know I can’t do this without proper stimulation!” “Sorry.” Frankie felt like she was making a mess of this but she didn’t know how to make things better. “Um, would you like a drink?” “A drink of what?” Xirnah demanded, her skinny nostrils wrinkling. “Um…” Frankie looked around. Did Kerov keep any wine or beer or anything alcoholic that might help lighten the mood? “What are you doing?” Kerov exclaimed inside her head. “You’re making her even more angry than she already was! And why did you try to take off her sex garment? That is against the protocol.” “I’m doing the best I can!” Frankie hissed. “Now will you just shut up and let me do this?” Xirnah glared at her. “How dare you tell me to shut up, you…you Kindred.” She used the word as though it was a curse and Frankie knew at once she was in big trouble. She took a deep breath, trying to think of how to salvage the situation. She hoped that Kerov would offer some advice but he was silent now. Either he was sulking because he thought she was ruining things or else he was afraid if he talked to her she would talk back again. Frankie took a deep breath, she had to do better! “I’m sorry, baby,” she said, stepping forward and putting a hand lightly on the other woman’s thin shoulder which was strangely chilly to touch. “I didn’t mean that you should shut up. I was, uh, talking to myself. I was…trying to, uh, psych myself up for our…our date.” “Our date? You mean our State-mandated sexual encounter?” Xirnah raised one white-blonde eyebrow. Her lashes were the same colorless shade of white which had the effect of making her look almost like she had no lashes or brows at all. “Exactly.” Frankie decided to go back to the script Kerov had given her. “Our State-mandated sexual encounter. Hey, why don’t we go sit on the sensu-chairs for a little while?” she said soothingly. “I think that would be nice, don’t you?”

Xirnah sniffed. “I suppose that would be acceptable.” “Great, uh…” Frankie suddenly realized that she had no idea what the sensuchairs looked like or even what they did. “Ladies first,” she said again, making a sweeping gesture with one hand. Giving her another strange look, Xirnah stepped past her, out of the small entryway and through an archway into a larger room. Frankie looked around the new room surreptitiously, wondering where the sensu-chairs were. The room had a plain black floor and white walls and appeared to be bachelor-neat—almost bare. There was a single holo-picture of a Kindred couple hanging on one wall. The man looked enough like Kerov that Frankie thought it must be his father. The woman staring lovingly up into his face must be his mother. Well, at least he had a picture of his parents—that was nice. But there were literally no other decorations. One entire wall appeared to be a huge TV-type screen, very much liked the ones she’d seen down in the subway station. There were two pointed, conical blue things positioned in front of it that were about as high as her waist but she didn’t see any kind of chairs to sit in. She wanted desperately to ask Kerov what to do but just then Xirnah walked over to one of the blue conical things and positioned her bottom right over the point. Dios—she’s going to impale herself on that thing! Frankie thought. Aloud she said, “Hey, you can’t—” “Can’t what?” Xirnah asked, looking at her as she sank down onto the coneshaped thing. Immediately it melted around her, forming a kind of armchair that appeared to be ing her perfectly. “Can’t get any prettier,” Frankie said, thinking fast. “I mean, you’re more beautiful every time I see you.” Xirnah gave her a withering look. “There is no need for such compliments as you well know. I am obligated to be here whether I like it or not. You do not have to flatter me in order to get me to

have relations with you.” She frowned. “And you’ve never spoken like this before.” “She’s right,” Kerov said inside her head. “Cease this useless flattery. You’re only making her suspicious.” Frankie started to tell him that some girls actually liked compliments but she caught herself in time and didn’t answer out loud. Instead she said to Xirnah, “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I know the, uh, State put us together but that doesn’t change the fact that you’re very beautiful. And if I’ve never told you that before, well, maybe I should have.” There—take that, Kerov! “Well…” Xirnah was giving her an appraising look now—almost as though she was seeing Kerov for the first time. And she certainly was, Frankie thought, at least this version of Kerov. “You’re very courteous tonight,” she said at last. “Very…attentive.” Ah-ha—now they were getting somewhere! Frankie felt a surge of triumph. “Well, you’re worth attending to, baby,” she said, smiling at Xirnah. “Thank you.” A soft pink blush actually rose on the other woman’s pale cheeks. “Why do you not me on the sensu-chairs and let us watch erotic entertainment together?” She gestured at the huge wall-sized TV screen and gave Frankie a small smile. “That sounds great.” Frankie smiled back. “You pick the program, okay?” she said courteously. Because, of course, she had no clue how to turn on the enormous screen. “With pleasure.” Xirnah snapped her fingers twice and the screen blinked into life. A woman was on the screen saying something while a list of numbers scrolled behind her—a stock report of some kind? Before Frankie could figure it out, Xirnah made a waving motion with one hand. The screen flickered and the scene jumped to some kind of race with several men balanced on top of each other’s shoulders while the bottom one rode a weird motorcycle without wheels, which seemed to hover quickly through the air.

“Ugh, sports.” Xirnah waved again and there was a program with a man and woman staring into each other’s eyes and singing loudly as they did a complicated dance in tall wooden stilts which were strapped to their feet. “Honestly,” Xirnah muttered. “Why is it so hard to find decent programming?” Another wave produced a show where two women appeared to be riding mechanical ostriches (or something that looked like ostriches anyway) through the desert and carrying a picnic basket between them. Suddenly the top of the basket popped open and a furry creature that looked like a rainbow-colored teddy bear stuck its head out and began to sing in a voice so deep it would have put James Earl Jones to shame. The women screamed and dropped the basket whereupon the bear promptly climbed up one of the mechanical ostrich-things and sat on its back, behind the woman riding it. Something unrolled from between its legs and Frankie realized it was the rainbow bear’s penis—but it was four or five feet long. The bear—which was still singing in a ludicrously deep voice—used its ridiculously long rainbow schlong as a lasso which it threw around the other ostrich’s neck. Both women screamed again and jumped off their mechanical mounts which galloped away, side by side taking the singing, penis-wielding, rainbow bear with them. “Wow,” Frankie muttered, staring at the screen. “That is the weirdest thing I’ve ever seen. It’s like someone filmed a bad acid trip.” Xirnah sniffed. “Actually that was a very important vid-piece by Jeir Meisner. But I wouldn’t expect you to understand. The subtleties of it fly right past the Kindred mind.” Frankie frowned. There it was again—the use of the word Kindred in a derogatory way. What did this woman have against the Kindred, anyway? Frankie herself didn’t really dislike them. Even though she had no wish to be married to one, she didn’t think they were horrible people—just a little scary. But Xirnah seemed almost to hate them—which was weird considering she was supposed to be Kerov’s ideal woman. “I’m sure it’s very interesting,” she said, trying to swallow her urge to tell the other woman off. “Why don’t you explain it to me?”

“I don’t really have time right now.” Xirnah glanced at her little watch ring again impatiently. “I’ve already spent more time and effort on this encounter than it warrants. If I could just find some good erotic entertainment…Ah—here we are.” Frankie looked at the screen again and saw several men who appeared to be completely covered in gold body paint. They looked kind of like those living statues you see at the park or downtown sometimes except they were completely nude. Then a woman came into view but only the top half of her. She was thin with large breasts and wide areolas which had been painted red while her nipples had been painted black. The paint job made her breasts look a little like targets to Frankie but she supposed some people might find it erotic. But there were three men and only one woman. Was this going to be one of those gang-bang type scenes? She certainly hoped not—aside from the fact that it was demeaning to women, something like that really turned Frankie off. She didn’t see how she could make Kerov’s body perform sexually if she was so disgusted she couldn’t even get it hard in the first place. Then the shot panned down to the bottom half of the woman…which was a giant spider looking creature, complete with multiple hairy legs and a swollen black abdomen with a long stinger dripping green venom on the floor. “Eww!” Frankie exclaimed involuntarily as one of the gold painted men came forward and began to lick the spider-woman’s stinger. “What the Hell?” “Oh, fine.” Xirnah sighed impatiently. “I’ll never understand what you have against xeno-morph erotica but we’ll watch the kind of thing you like for a change.” She waved again and the scene changed to two people—just one man and one woman, Frankie saw with relief—in bed together. Or it looked like a bed—but one that was vaguely shaped like a cloud and floated in midair somehow. They were lying close together, their bodies entwined, and then the man began kissing his way down the woman’s body, taking time along the way to lick and suck her breasts—which were thankfully not painted like targets or anything else. Frankie felt Kerov stir uneasily inside and wondered what was going on with him. The scene continued with the man sliding lower and leaving a trail of hot,

tender kisses along the panting woman’s abdomen. At last he came to the juncture between her thighs and began kissing all around the top of her pussy mound. Frankie watched with interest. Was this really the kind of thing that her host liked? Thinking back on it, she had heard that the Kindred liked going down on their women but— “Tell her to change the program,” Kerov said, interrupting her thoughts. “Truly, this isn’t the kind of thing I, uh, am interested in.” Frankie thought he sounded embarrassed but there was no way she was going to ask Xirnah to change the channel back to the weird golden painted men with their spider-woman lover. This was the most normal thing she’d seen on his version of TV so far and also… it was kind of hot. At least Frankie thought it was and so did Kerov’s body—his equipment was stiffening a bit between her legs, which was a strange sensation but not exactly an unpleasant one. From Xirnah’s expression, however, it was clear the tender scene on the screen was leaving her cold. “Ugh…so deviant,” she muttered, her lip curling with disgust as the man wrapped his arms around his lover’s thighs, splitting them wide so he could taste her pussy more fully. “Really?” Frankie looked at her. “You don’t like this? You prefer the other thing with the men painted gold and getting busy…er, having relations with the spiderlady?” “That, at least, has artistic value,” Xirnah said stiffly. “It speaks to me here.” She put a fist over her chest. “But this stuff…” she motioned at the screen. “Everyone knows such acts aren’t allowed. I honestly don’t understand why the State lets them be aired at all. Probably just to cater to sexual deviants who cannot enjoy normal erotica.” “But this is what’s…” Frankie started to say “normal” but it was becoming clear to her that normal was a very relative thing here, at least when it came to entertainment. She cleared her throat. “This is certainly different,” she said instead.

Xirnah glanced up at Frankie, who was still standing there watching the screen. “Why don’t you have a seat?” she demanded. “Let the sensu-chair work on you so we can get this over with and I can leave.” “Um—okay, sure.” Frankie was prepared to be agreeable. As long as she didn’t have to watch anymore spider-loving, she thought she could get Kerov’s body to do what it was supposed to. And after that, she was going straight to bed so she could hopefully wake up in her own body. But she had to get through this first. Walking over to the blue sensu-chair, she positioned herself over the point just as Xirnah had done and lowered herself down. The chair enfolded her at once like a comforting, ive bean bag. Mmm…it felt nice. Frankie leaned back and watched as the man on the screen continued to lick his partner’s pussy. She could feel the shaft between her legs stirring even more and a strong sense of sexual need was coming over her. Was she actually getting horny? Was she—? And then something grabbed her between her legs. “Ahh!” Frankie shot up out of the sensu-chair, trying frantically to get away from whatever had groped her. Xirnah gave her an irritated look. “Whatever is wrong now?” she demanded. At the same time Kerov said, “What’s wrong with you? Why did you jump up?” “It…it grabbed me!” Frankie exclaimed, answering both of them at the same time. “The chair, I mean.” “What?” Xirnah frowned. “What are you playing at, Kerov? Why are you acting so strangely tonight?” Frankie opened her mouth to reply but Kerov was shouting inside her head. “Don’t say anything else about the sensu-chair! Just excuse yourself go into the fresher so we can talk.” Frankie didn’t know what the fresher was or where it was located but thankfully, he gave directions.

“Down the hallway, second door on the right. And hurry.” “Would you excuse me?” Frankie said to the now very irritated Xirnah. “I, uh, need a minute…er, a meem to myself.” “Fine.” She sighed huffily. “But don’t take too long. I have to get back to my domicile soon.” “Be right back,” Frankie promised and fled down the hallway. She found the second door on the right and opened it, revealing something that might be an alien toilet. At least, it had a bowl with water at the bottom of it—even though the bowl appeared to be built into a rocking chair. But Frankie was too preoccupied with the other seating arrangements she’d left out in the living room to worry too much about that. “All right,” Kerov said, sounding like he was barely holding on to his temper. “What’s wrong with you now? Why did you jump off the sensu-chair before it could do its work?” “Do its work?” Frankie hissed, trying to keep her voice low. “Are you saying it’s supposed to do that? Supposed to…to grab you between your legs? I mean, that damn chair freaking molested me.” He sighed deeply—or made a mental noise that sounded like a sigh, anyway. “Of course it’s supposed to do that. That is the whole point of the sensu-chair— to get sexual partners ready to copulate.” “So we’re just supposed to sit there letting our respective chairs feel us up until we’re ready to, uh, do the deed?” Frankie still couldn’t quite believe it. “Yes. And if you don’t ‘do the deed’ as you put it, soon, I’m going to be in very deep trouble.” “All right, all right,” she muttered. “I was just surprised, that’s all. You should have warned me the chair was going to grab me.” To her surprise, Kerov made a sound of assent. “Agreed,” he grudgingly itted. “It never occurred to me that you would not

have such a thing as a sensu-chair where you are from but it should have.” “Okay—well are there any other surprises I should know about before I go back?” “Not unless you’re surprised by the act of intercourse,” he said dryly. “No, I have had sex before,” Frankie said, feeling irritated. “Just not on an alien world and not while I was in the body of a man trying to make love to a woman. A really skinny, bitchy woman.” “Xirnah is extremely boney and her disposition is not always the best,” Kerov said stoically. “But it is not her fault she was assigned to me.” “All right, I’m sorry for talking bad about your girlfriend.” Frankie sighed. “It’s just… I don’t understand her. I feel like I’m messing this up for you but honestly, I’m doing my best. What am I doing wrong?” “Stop trying to be so affectionate and effusive,” Kerov advised. “That only makes her suspicious. She prefers for our encounters to go as quickly and impersonally as possible.” “She does?” Frankie frowned. “And what do you want?” “What I want does not matter,” he said shortly. “My only function is to service her as she prefers to be serviced.” “All right. So I should just go out there and be all business.” Frankie squared her shoulders and lifted her chin. “Just get it over with.” It seemed a strange way to go about having sex but at this point, she just wanted all this to be over. “Exactly,” Kerov said. “Say as little as possible. Just do what needs to be done.” “I will.” She frowned. “I was only trying to make it nice for her, you know. To treat her the way I would want to be treated.” “That is how you would prefer to be treated?” Kerov sounded interested. “You mean you want a male to talk to you before beginning carnal activities?”

“Of course—talk, touch, kiss… I don’t want a wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am type of encounter. I had enough of that with Carlos.” “Who’s Carlos?” “My ex-husband.” Frankie shook her head. “He wasn’t exactly the greatest lover in the world—although he certainly liked to think so.” “So…he treated sexual relations with you in the same way Xirnah and I do—that is, quick and perfunctory—but you didn’t like it?” “Of course not! I want a man who can make it last,” Frankie sighed with longing. “Someone who’ll care what I want—not just about getting his rocks off.” “So…you’d be open to a prolonged encounter?” Kerov sounded fascinated, as though the very idea of a woman enjoying sex and wanting to make it last was a novelty. “One that lasted for longer than it takes to accomplish a single insemination?” “Well, with the right guy I would. I mean—” Just then there was an angry banging on the bathroom—no, the fresher—door. “Kerov!” Xirnah’s voice sounded strident and furious. “Are you going to leave me out here, cooling my heels indefinitely? You have already wasted almost an ahrn of my valuable time and your sensu-chair is beginning to chafe me in a most delicate area!” “Oh, of course—sorry!” Frankie exclaimed through the door. Then she whispered to Kerov, “What should I do?” “What you’re supposed to do! Go out, sit on the sensu-chair until your shaft— my shaft—is hard enough to service her, then take Xirnah into the bedroom and complete the act of copulation.” “All right, all right—I’m going.” Frankie left the fresher quickly and shut the door behind her.

Sorry about that,” she apologized. “Uh…upset stomach. But I feel better now.” “It’s about time.” Xirnah was tapping her foot impatiently. “I’m about to leave if we don’t complete our mandatory sex act in about three meems.” “Right. Back to the sensu-chairs.” Frankie tried to take her by the arm but the other woman jerked away. “No! No more sensu-chairs and no more excuses. I want you to service me now so I can get out of here!” “Uh…okay, fine.” Frankie dropped her arm quickly and took a step back. “Let’s go to the bedroom. Come on.” She started down the hallway but became aware after a few steps that Xirnah wasn’t following her. “What?” She turned back to look. “Your sleeping chamber is that way.” Xirnah pointed one long, boney finger in the other direction. “She’s right.” Kerov sounded both irritated and worried. “Of course. I just wanted to, uh…to…to get a drink of water,” Frankie said, improvising quickly. “You go ahead into the bedroom and I’ll be right in to…to service you.” Xirnah gave her an icy glare. “You have two meems,” she snapped. “Two, and then I’m leaving.” Turning, she stomped down the hallway, opened another door which must lead to the bedroom and then slammed it behind her. “You heard her—quickly, go do what has to be done,” Kerov urged. “I can’t.” Frankie was suddenly aware that the equipment between her legs seemed to be malfunctioning. Or rather, it wasn’t functioning at all. “Why not?” he growled. “Because your dick appears to be taking a break.” Frankie nodded down at the black uniform tros where the stiff bulge of his shaft was noticeably absent.

“I’m soft as cream cheese here. How can I have sex like this? It would be like trying to stuff a marshmallow into a keyhole.” “A what into a what? And what is cream cheese?” Kerov demanded. “Never mind,” he added before she could answer. “Just think erotic thoughts until my shaft hardens. Hurry!” “Think erotic thoughts, huh?” Frankie went to the door of the bedroom and stood there, concentrating hard. She didn’t have much time but she didn’t want to go in before she was ready. God only knew what kind of fit Xirnah would throw if she couldn’t get it up for the bitchy alien woman. “Yes, erotic thoughts,” Kerov told her impatiently. Frankie closed her eyes. What could she think of? Actually, the hottest thing she’d seen recently was the man going down on his woman on Kerov’s TV. Biting her lip, she pictured them together, the man spreading the woman’s thighs and giving her long, loving kisses—teasing her until she panted and moaned and pressed her hips up to meet his mouth as he kissed and tasted her gently but urgently… “Gods…” Kerov’s mental voice sounded hoarse. “This kind of thing is truly what you consider erotic?” “Are you getting that?” Frankie felt suddenly shy. “I, uh, thought you couldn’t hear my thoughts.” “I can’t, but for some reason I can see the images you’re picturing.” “Sorry if I’m making you uncomfortable,” Frankie apologized. “I know you said you’re not into that kind of thing.” Although Xirnah had certainly seemed to think he was. “No, I…I don’t mind.” He made a sound like clearing his throat. “You can…go on if you want.” Suddenly there was another picture in Frankie’s head—the same man and woman but this time he was lying on his back and she was straddling him— riding his face. She was gripping his hair with both hands, her head thrown back in a moan as he held her by the hips and licked and sucked her open pussy

hungrily. “Dios,” she murmured, shifting as the equipment between her legs began to stiffen. “Is that you sending me those pictures?” “Just trying to help,” Kerov murmured. “Are you able to see them clearly?” “As clearly as you saw mine, I think,” Frankie answered. “I wonder why we can send mental images back and forth but not words.” “Maybe because we’re concentrating so hard on them.” “Speaking of hard, I think I’m about ready to, uh, service Xirnah,” Frankie confessed. “That last picture you sent me really did the trick.” She could feel the shaft between her legs growing as she thought about the man going down on his woman. And though it made her shy and a little uncomfortable to discuss it with Kerov, the mental images he’d sent her were really hot. “You’d better go to Xirnah then,” Kerov said. “She is not a patient female.” “Right. I got that.” Frankie took a deep breath. “Okay—here goes.” She opened the door and stepped into the room.

Four

The sight that greeted Frankie was almost enough to make the shaft between her legs go soft again. Xirnah was already kneeling on hands and knees on the high, elaborately carved bed. She had her white sex garment hiked up, revealing the boniest, palest behind Frankie had ever seen. Between her skinny thighs, her pussy was a thin, almost colorless slit with just the barest blush of pink to it. But it wasn’t the sight of the other woman’s body that was causing the equipment between Frankie’s legs to do its best impression of a limp noodle—it was the way Xirnah was looking over one narrow shoulder and glaring at her. Dios—she looks angry—really angry. How are we supposed to do it when she’s so pissed off at me? “Hurry,” Kerov urged in her head. “She’s extremely upset.” “You think?” Frankie muttered. “Do I think what?” Xirnah demanded. “Um…I think it’s time to get this done,” Frankie said, trying to sound masculine and in control. Striding forward, she tried to fill her head with the sexy thoughts that had made Kerov’s shaft so hard just moments ago. It was incredibly hard to maintain an erection with Xirnah glaring at her but luckily, after a moment, the other woman turned her face away and stared at the wall instead. Immediately Frankie found it easier to concentrate. Thinking sexy thoughts, she reached for the front of the black uniform tros to pull down the zipper and get ready for action. But there was none. She fumbled frantically—what the hell? How was she supposed to get these damn things open? “What’s wrong with you?” she heard Kerov mutter. “Why aren’t you doing it?” Xirnah seemed to have the same idea.

“What’s taking so long?” she demanded, turning her angry scowl on Frankie again. “Uh, nothing. Just…my tros got stuck. That’s all.” Xirnah arched one perfectly groomed, pale blonde eyebrow at her. “Your tros got stuck?” “Just unfasten the magnotabs at the top and you can pull them open,” Kerov told her quickly. “Don’t worry about it, baby—I got this. Just relax,” Frankie told Xirnah, trying to sound confident and sexy when really she actually felt the exact opposite. To her relief, she finally found the tabs Kerov had told her about and was able to pop open the black tros. Sexy thoughts—think sexy thoughts, she told herself as Xirnah finally turned around again. Quickly, she reached into the tros and found the shaft she’d been feeling between her legs for so long. It felt really weird to grab a penis and realize it was attached to her—or at least, the body she was currently inhabiting. But the minute Frankie actually brought the equipment out into the light where she could see it, she forgot about the weirdness and just stared. “Madre de Dios—it’s huge!” she breathed softly. It was true. Even only semi-hard, Kerov’s equipment was the biggest she had ever seen. Not that she’d seen a lot of them in person but Frankie watched porn from time to time and Kerov was big even by those standards. He certainly put Carlos and the stubby four inches he was so proud of to shame. “What are you talking about back there?” Xirnah snapped, looking around again. “Why don’t you just hurry up and put it in?” “I…uh…I want to but I don’t want to hurt you.” Frankie eyed the other woman’s narrow pink slit uncertainly. “I mean, you look so small and this thing is really big.” Xirnah sniffed. “Oh, you Kindred are always so proud of your strength and size. Don’t worry—I know from experience that I can accommodate you when I have

to.” “She’s right,” Kerov muttered. “Xirnah is well able to bear my girth—you need to hurry and finish this encounter.” “Fine,” Frankie said. If both Kerov and Xirnah were determined for her to go through with this, she would just have to do it—even if she did worry about skewering the other woman like a shisk-ka-bob on Kerov’s massive equipment. “Fine,” Xirnah echoed her. “Just hurry up!” “Yes Ma’am,” Frankie snapped, stung into being sarcastic. Could this boney bitch be any more demanding? Stepping forward, she held the massive shaft in one hand and guided it towards Xirnah’s colorless slit. She had a moment to think how completely bizarre her situation was. She was preparing to have sex with another woman while she herself was trapped inside the body of a man—could things get any more weird? Then she made and pressed forward. And almost immediately pulled back out again. “Ugh—tan frio!” she exclaimed involuntarily, before she could stop herself. “What?” Xirnah turned her head and was glaring even more fiercely than before. “I said you’re cold—inside.” Frankie gave her a worried look. “Are you sick or something? Maybe you should see a doctor.” “How dare you?” Xirnah gave her a furious look. “My body temperature is just fine! You’re the one with the crude Kindred body heat!” “She’s right,” Kerov said before Frankie could protest. “Her temperature is normal for one of her kind—for a pure blooded Tarsian. Apologize quickly and finish!” Frankie wanted to point out that this was certainly another thing he should have warned her about but she could hardly do that without looking like she was talking to herself again. Promising that she would give Kerov a piece of her mind later, she turned her attention back to Xirnah.

“Um, sorry, sweetheart,” she said, trying to sound sincere. “I was just worried about you—you seemed, uh, even chillier that usual. That’s all.” As if a cold fish like Xirnah could actually get colder. But that was beside the point. “Just finish,” the other woman hissed at her. “I’m so sick of you I could die.” Frankie couldn’t help recoiling at the raw hatred in the other woman’s dark purple eyes. Wow, she really seemed to detest Kerov! How could she be his ideal woman if she loathed him like this? What were the people at his government matching agency thinking? Speaking of Kerov, she could feel his impatience and anxiety coming through the strange bond they shared loud and clear. “Hurry,” he told her. “You have to hurry before she loses patience completely!” “Okay, all right,” Frankie muttered. Stepping forward again, she concentrated fiercely on the act at hand. But to her dismay, Kerov’s massive shaft had gone half soft again—probably because it was next to impossible to be turned on when the person you were supposed to have sex with said they hated you. At least Frankie found it impossible. She looked despairingly at the semi-limp shaft in her hand. Sexy thoughts—she had to think sexy thoughts! She tried hard to fill her mind with the images of the man going down on his woman and tasting her pussy but the mental pictures just weren’t having the same effect. Not with Xirnah glaring at her. Desperately, Frankie gripped the softening shaft, lined it up with the alien woman’s pale pussy, and tried to push it in anyway. She managed to succeed— sort of—but the sensation was horribly unpleasant. This part of Kerov’s anatomy was incredibly sensitive and Frankie had an idea that any other time sex as a man could have been intensely pleasurable. Before she’d actually made with Xirnah, back when Kerov was filling her head with sexy pictures, the shaft had swelled with need and she’d felt the strong urge to thrust. But entering the alien woman was like being enfolded by cold, raw liver.

Ugh! she thought, shivering involuntarily as she tried to thrust. It’s like having sex with a corpse. Well—a really angry, irritated corpse, anyway. Xirnah continued to glower at her as Frankie pushed in and out with the ever-softening member. “Hurry up,” the alien woman ground out. “You know I detest this—don’t take so long!” “Faster,” she heard Kerov urging her. “You’ll never be able to finish at that rate. You have to get some momentum going in order to come.” There was too much pressure—both from inside and out. Frankie finally thought she understood the meaning of performance anxiety. Between Kerov’s urgent demands and Xirnah’s glaring, not to mention how intensely unpleasant it felt to thrust into the cold, slick well of her pussy, Frankie felt the shaft between her legs lose its last little bit of tumescence and go completely soft. “I’m sorry,” she muttered, stepping back and tucking the wilted shaft back in his tros. “But I can’t…I just can’t.” “What?” A look of surprise and triumph came over Xirnah’s thin, perfect face. “Are you itting defeat? Declaring impotence?” “No—tell her no!” Kerov sounded almost panicked. “Don’t declare impotence! She’ll be able to use it against me. I’ll be given a different sexual partner.” Frankie didn’t see how that could be a bad thing. Xirnah might be Kerov’s idea of perfection for some reason but clearly his alien girlfriend did not feel the same way about him. “I, um…I’m sorry,” she said again, taking another step backward. “I’m not declaring anything but I just…I can’t right now.” “Ha!” There was a gleam of triumph in Xirnah’s dark eyes as she got off the bed and straightened her garments. “Where’s your famous Kindred virility now? The great Kerov, Battalion Commander who killed legions of the Swarm, is wielding a blunt saber. Wait until I tell my friends!” “You have friends?” Frankie snapped, stung into sarcasm again. “That’s surprising considering what a grade A bitch you are!”

Xirnah’s eyes widened. “How dare you speak to me this way?” “She’s right—stop at once and apologize. You’re only making things worse,” Kerov growled. “I will not apologize,” Frankie said, glaring right back at the woman. “I’m only telling the absolute truth.” “Fine.” Xirnah gathered herself up to her full height—which still wasn’t nearly tall enough to let her look down on Frankie—not in the tall Kindred body she was currently inhabiting. “Then I’m leaving and tomorrow morning at o-six hundred sharp I am requesting a different sexual partner.” “Go ahead, sweetheart,” Frankie snarled. “Have fun trying to find anyone who’ll want screw you. You might be pretty but that nasty attitude you’re carrying around completely ruins your perfect little package.” Xirnah’s eyes narrowed and her lips pursed in rage. “Why…you…you crude, disgusting Kindred you!” she stormed. “I’m going to tell everyone I know that you’re a rude, ignorant, impotent thug!” Then she turned and stormed out of the bedroom, slamming the door behind her.

Kerov groaned inside the prison of his own body. Gods, could that have gone any worse? He really didn’t see how. The mandatory sexual encounter had been a complete and total disaster. Xirnah hated him even more than she had before and now she had plenty of ammunition to use against him. “Impotent,” he muttered. “She’s going to tell everyone I’m impotent!” He tried to run his hands through his hair in a gesture of frustration but then ed he couldn’t—Frankie still had control of his body. “I’m sorry.” Frankie’s voice sounded small and contrite—feminine even though she was speaking through his voice box. “I…I never meant for it to go that far. That stupid puta just made me so mad!” “Xirnah is a very difficult female who has to be handled correctly,” Kerov growled. “You completely mismanaged the situation!” “Well you should have warned me that she was cold inside!” Frankie protested. “That was like trying to make love to a corpse!” She shivered. “Ugh!” Against his will, Kerov had to it she was right. He couldn’t help ing the first time he’d had sex with Xirnah. He’d had other sexual partners before but none who had absolutely no Kindred blood in them. Xirnah’s bloodline was exclusive—pure Tarsian. In fact, it had surprised him that she was assigned to him at all. Possibly it had been some kind of a punishment for her but it hadn’t exactly been a pleasure for him either. At any rate, her pure blood insured that her body temperature was especially low —at least compared to his own. The first time he’d sunk his shaft into that bloodless slit between her thighs it had taken everything he had to keep going and actually finish. Being inside her pussy was like being gripped by a cold, slick fist—an ittedly startling and unpleasant sensation. “What are you thinking?” Frankie asked, breaking his train of thought. “I can feel your emotions and I can almost catch your thoughts but not quite. Are you super pissed off at me?” He sighed. “I’m upset but… I should have warned you Xirnah’s body temperature was especially low, even for a Tarsian.”

“What do you mean even for a Tarsian? Are all the people on this planet cold?” “All but the ones who have Kindred blood,” Kerov said. “And none are as hot as me—I am full blooded Kindred which counts against me in many circles. And not just because my blood is too hot.” “I wondered why she kept calling you ‘Kindred’ like it was a curse word.” Frankie sounded thoughtful. “Are your people not wanted here?” “We were at first—we were welcomed with open arms by the Tarsians because we brought fresh blood and new technology. Then they discovered my ancestors’ curse.” “You mean the whole body switching thing?” Frankie said dryly. “Exactly. That was frowned upon—considered wrong and impure by those in charge. And things only got worse for us when a new regime rose to power. They implemented laws to breed our Switching gene into nonexistence. Supposedly no living Kindred is still able to Switch.” “Well I’d say their little breeding program failed,” Frankie said. “Seeing the shape you and I are currently in.” Kerov sighed. “Unfortunately, you’re right. But no one else must know that.” Frankie bit her lip—his lip—Kerov could feel it even though he hadn’t made the gesture. “Do…do you think the way I acted tipped Xirnah off?” “I don’t know.” Kerov wished he could pace as he considered the situation but again, his body was not his own. “It might have, but probably the idea of declaring me impotent has overshadowed any other thought in her mind.” “I really am sorry about that.” Frankie sounded really contrite. “I know how much a man’s sexual prowess is tied to his sense of self-worth.” “It’s not my self-worth I’m worried about,” he growled. “It’s my career. I have a promotional banquet coming up and it wouldn’t be good if it got out to my superiors that my assigned sexual partner asked for a reassignment. Especially

based on the fact that I was unable to inseminate her.” “I swear I would have finished if I could but she was glaring at me and she was so cold inside.” Frankie shivered. “I guess I’d grown used to her internal temperature,” Kerov itted. He was still angry with Frankie but he couldn’t be completely enraged—not when he knew the point she was making was valid. “It was an unpleasant shock the first time I entered her but I made up my mind to get used to it. After all, it isn’t like I will ever be with a female who is any warmer.” “You should come to Earth,” Frankie said, surprising him. “Lots of girls get called as Kindred brides there and I’ve never heard any of them complain that their husbands are too hot. So we must have about the same body temperatures.” “Oh?” Kerov asked, interested despite himself. “So the females of your kind are warm blooded?” “Well, we’re not cold fish like that Xirnah. Dios—she felt like cold, slimy, raw liver inside.” Frankie made a face which Kerov felt rather than saw. He wondered what it would be like to make love to a female who was warm inside rather than cold—that might be appealing. In fact, he imagined it would be intensely pleasurable. But there was no point in thinking of it now—it wasn’t like he would ever get to experience such a thing. The encounter with Xirnah was over and it was getting late. The best thing to do was to go to sleep and hope to wake up alone in his own skin tomorrow. “It’s late,” he told Frankie. “And the only hope we have of Switching back is to go to sleep and hope your soul finds its way back to your body back on Earth.” “It will—won’t it?” She sounded anxious. “I mean, I wouldn’t leave your body and then just go wandering around, unable to find my way home, would I? Earth is an awfully long way away.” “With any kind of Switch a soul can only find its own body or the body of its mate,” Kerov said, trying to comfort her. “But I’m not your mate,” she pointed out. “I barely know you. Although I guess after what we’ve been through tonight, I know you a lot better than some

people.” “True,” Kerov acknowledged wryly. “I do not know why your soul found mine over such a distance—it must be a fluke. But I don’t want you to worry that you won’t find your way home. That couldn’t happen unless you were a Switch Kindred yourself—and only then if you were a True Jumper.” “A True Jumper? What’s that?” “A Switch Kindred who is able to not just inhabit his mate’s body but to jump into anyone else’s as well.” “And are you a True Jumper?” she asked. “I didn’t think I could Jump or Switch at all,” Kerov said ruefully. “And I wish to the Goddess I couldn’t.” “I guess I can understand that. I did sort of screw up your life.” Frankie sounded remorseful. “I’m sorry I broke up you and Xirnah—even if she was kind of a bitch.” “I will survive her loss,” Kerov said stoically although privately he wondered what female he would be assigned to next. It was difficult to imagine a more unpleasant person than Xirnah but knowing the Ministry of Matching, they would find someone. He had never yet heard of someone who asked for reassignment that didn’t regret it once they met their new partner. Still, that was for the future. For now he just wanted to go to sleep and hopefully wake up normal again. Frankie seemed to be thinking the same thing. “I guess we should get ready for bed,” she said. “Um…I can see this is your bedroom but where are your pajamas?” “My what?” Kerov asked. “Your pajamas. You know—your sleeping garments?” “Why would one need garments to sleep in?” Kerov was genuinely puzzled.

“Well…to keep you warm at night, I guess. And for modesty’s sake.” Frankie sounded slightly scandalized. Kerov shrugged mentally. “I am warm enough as it is. And as for modesty, I live alone. Therefore I usually just sleep in the nude.” “Oh. Uh…okay.” She sounded uncomfortable. “That’s okay I guess.” “If it’s ‘okay’ as you put it, then why aren’t you undressing us for bed?” Kerov asked. “I just…I guess I didn’t know how you’d feel about it. Being naked in front of me, I mean.” She nodded at the closet door which had a full length 3-D viewer built into it, thanks to the taste of his domicile’s previous owner. Kerov wouldn’t have installed such a thing himself—he had never felt the need to preen in front of a viewer. As long as his appearance was neat and clean it was enough for him. But clearly Frankie thought it might be a problem. “I have seen myself naked before,” he pointed out dryly. “And you’ve already seen my shaft—seen it and handled it too. What difference does it make if you see the rest of me without clothing?” “Okay—well, I guess if you put it that way…” Shrugging, Frankie began to undress.

Five

Frankie tried to conceal her embarrassment as she went about undressing his big, male body. It wasn’t that she was a prude or anything—she’d just never seen any guy naked in person but Carlos. And that was only after they were married. Still, Kerov seemed to think it was no big deal for her to undress his body and he was right—she had already seen and handled his equipment. But that had been in the heat of the moment—he and Xirnah both had been expecting her to perform and Frankie had gotten caught up in the anxiety of the whole crazy scene. Now, with things quiet in his small, austere apartment, the situation seemed much more…intimate somehow. Frankie realized this was the closest she’d been to a man since she and Carlos had gone their separate ways. Lacy was always teasing her and telling her she needed to go out and get laid but Frankie just couldn’t shake her proper Catholic upbringing that easily. Which was probably the main reason she hadn’t done much dating after her divorce. She had a sudden thought which probably should have occurred to her earlier— was trying to have intercourse with Xirnah a venial sin or a mortal sin? Technically she hadn’t been in her own body while she was committing the sin so maybe it didn’t count either way… Frankie tried to push the thought out of her head but it wouldn’t quite go. She was a lapsed Catholic but that didn’t mean she was completely unrepentant. At some point she meant to go back to confession and get right with God. Only how would she confess what she had just done—or almost done—with Xirnah? Forgive me Father, for I have sinned. Once I inhabited the body of an alien male and attempted to have intercourse with his bitchy alien girlfriend only I couldn’t keep it up because her coochie was so cold inside it made his dick wilt. Riiiight. Father Munoz would really think she was crazy if she started spewing all that. He’d be more likely to call the local mental hospital than assign her a penance. “What’s taking so long? Why have you stopped undressing?” Kerov’s deep mental voice yanked her out of her uneasy thoughts and Frankie realized she was standing there in front of the 3-D mirror thing with only his

shirt off. For the first time, she got a look at the Kindred’s broad chest and sucked in a breath. He was huge everywhere—not just between his legs. The broad, muscular planes of his chest were covered in smooth tan skin a shade lighter than her own and Frankie estimated that his shoulders would be exactly twice as wide as hers if they were standing side by side. He would also be at least a head and a half taller than her—if not more. It was difficult to say with no frame of reference but she estimated the big Kindred was at least 6’7 or 6’8 if not taller. His chest was smooth although there was a thin trail of curly brown hair leading from his belly button down his abdomen which rippled with muscle. When she finally shucked off the size fourteen leather boots and the tight black tros, she could see that his thighs and calves were well muscled too. Clearly he didn’t skip leg day at whatever his version of the gym was. “Madre de Dios,” Frankie murmured, unable to help iring the sight in the mirror. Kerov was cut in every way—there wasn’t a spare ounce of flesh on his huge, muscular frame anywhere. Add that to his dark blond hair and those piercing, pale gray eyes and he looked like something out of a female fantasy. In fact, seeing him naked inspired a few fantasies of her own. She could just imagine being enfolded in those strong, muscular arms, being held close so she could feel the heat of his big body… Then, to her horror, the thick shaft between his legs began to stir. “What are you thinking?” Kerov sounded genuinely curious. “Whatever it is, I can feel your arousal. My shaft just twitched.” “I’m, uh, not thinking anything,” Frankie lied hastily. “It just moved on its own —honest!” Quickly she jumped into bed, sliding under the thin blanket which seemed to be made out of some kind of velvety green fur. “Lights off!” she said loudly and the room was plunged into sudden darkness. Then she just lay there, praying that sleep would come quickly. “Well that was abrupt,” Kerov murmured in her head. “Did it bother you that much to see my shaft harden? You didn’t appear to be upset about it earlier when

Xirnah was here.” “That was different,” Frankie protested in a low voice. “We were in the heat of the moment and you were telling me that I had to service her or else. This was just…you and me. It was weird. Embarrassing.” “Not half as embarrassing as going soft before I could finish the job with my assigned partner,” he remarked. “That wasn’t your fault, it was mine because her coochie felt like the inside of a walk-in freezer,” Frankie reminded him. To her relief, the shaft between her legs went down at the memory of the alien woman’s chilly interior. “I still take responsibility,” Kerov said grimly. “It was my equipment that refused to function.” “Well how could it when you were trying to do it in such an impersonal way?” Frankie asked reasonably. “You know, even with Xirnah being cold inside, she might have warmed up—at least metaphorically—if you’d had a little foreplay first instead of just sitting on those damn pointy chairs of yours.” “What’s foreplay?” Kerov asked, sounding confused. “What’s foreplay? Seriously? You sound like my ex.” “From what you have told me previously of this ex of yours, I do not think that is a compliment.” Kerov sounded miffed. Frankie realized he was being for real—he honestly didn’t know what she meant. “Sorry—I didn’t mean to compare you to Carlos. Foreplay is what you do before sex—to get each other ready. It’s the same kind of thing we were watching on your TV or viewscreen or whatever it is out there. You know—with the man kissing and, uh, going down on the woman?” “So…you come from a place where such things are actually done?” He sounded surprised…and intrigued. “Not just for pornographic reasons but in real life with a partner?” “Well…sure.” Frankie ed Xirnah saying that the scene they were

watching was deviant and not allowed but she hadn’t quite ed the other woman’s words at the time. “Is it really against the law here?” she asked in a low voice. Kerov made a mental sound like clearing his throat. “Any kind of physical of a sexual nature other than intercourse itself is strictly forbidden. Xirnah was right—such vids are only made for the benefit of deviants who cannot get aroused by normal pornography.” “Normal as in the Kiss of the Spider Woman stuff we were watching before she changed the channel? Or the singing rainbow teddy bear with the lasso penis?” Frankie demanded. “That piece wasn’t meant to be pornography,” he said stiffly. “It was art.” “Okay, well then I guess I just don’t get your art…or your porn.” Frankie shrugged. “I mean, we have some weird stuff back on Earth—some of it pretty deviant, too. But the majority of the people there are probably into more mainstream porn—like the man and the woman kissing each other. At least, most of the women I know are.” “And…it is not forbidden?” He sounded doubtful. “Not a bit,” Frankie assured him. “We like it. Well—some people do, anyway,” she added, ing Carlos. He’d refused to go down on her, considering it unmanly in some way, although he certainly expected her to show him plenty of oral attention. Yet another reason she’d boarded the train for divorce-ville. “So you would actually allow a male to part your thighs and…taste you there? To taste your pussy?” Frankie shifted uncomfortably. Talking like this with Kerov was intensely intimate, especially since she could feel the sexual curiosity radiating from him through the strange link they somehow shared. Between her legs, she could feel his thick shaft stirring again. “I would,” she itted, finding it hard to lie to him. “I mean, if I could find a guy who, you know, wanted to. My ex refused to go to P-town, as my friend Lacy calls it. He thought it was emasculating.”

“Emasculating? It seems to me it would be the exact opposite,” Kerov objected. “What could be more masculine than spreading your female’s thighs and giving her pleasure with your tongue until she moaned and called out your name? Until she gripped your hair and bucked her hips up to meet your mouth as you licked and sucked her sweet pussy?” “Dios, when you put it that way…” Frankie shifted, feeling the stirring become a stronger sensation. Damn—was the way he was talking actually turning her on? It seemed so. “You really are into this, aren’t you?” she asked him. “I mean, you really want to, uh, go down.” “No—that would make me a deviant,” Kerov said quickly. “At least by the standards of my own people. I was only saying that, well…” He gave a mental cough. “I cannot understand how any male could live in a place where such things were permitted and not at least want to…to try it. That’s all.” “Believe me, there were a whole lot of things Carlos didn’t want to try,” Frankie said dryly. “My ex was a strictly missionary kind of guy if you get what I mean.” “No, I don’t.” Kerov sounded confused. “Who was he a missionary to? Religion is also frowned on here—is it allowed where you’re from?” “In my country, yes. But when I say missionary, I’m talking about the missionary position,” Frankie explained. “I’m afraid I still don’t understand.” “You know—with the man on top? The woman on the bottom and they’re facing each other?” “You are allowed to copulate in such a position?” Again he sounded intrigued. “You’re not?” Frankie asked. “It is considered far too intimate and is forbidden.” “Intimate, huh? That’s not the way I saw it,” she remarked. “Although I suppose it could be with the right person.” Carlos had definitely not been that person—at least not for her.

Missionary position with her ex had been miserable for several reasons. For one thing, Carlos sweated heavily and it dripped on her when he really got going. Even worse, he insisted on talking dirty during sex. Only his version of dirty talk consisted of him boasting what a great lover he was while he plowed into her. Or tried to, anyway—his stubby penis had never made much of an impression on Frankie, even on their wedding night when she was actually a virgin. “Come on baby, you know you love it!” he’d snarl, his red, sweaty face screwed into a grimace of effort. “Tell me how much you want this huge cock—tell me you want it!” And then Frankie would be forced to say that she wanted it when what she actually wanted was for him to get off her and stop blowing his garlic and onion breath in her face while he panted and dripped sweat all over her. Luckily, Carlos never lasted long. He got so excited he would hump faster and faster, like a dog in heat, until he finally shot his load and collapsed on top of Frankie with a gurgling groan of satisfaction. Satisfaction that Frankie did not share—she had never come once from their lovemaking—if it could be called that. Any pleasure she had in the encounter had to be due to self-stimulation and she had to be quick about it because Carlos was always impatient to screw. Just the memory made her shudder with disgust and wonder how she’d put up with her ex for so long. But then Kerov spoke again. “I have always wondered what it would be like to be face to face with a female you truly cared for, looking into her eyes as you thrust deeply into her pussy.” He sounded almost wistful and suddenly Frankie saw an image in her mind. It was Kerov and he had a female with him—under him actually—but it wasn’t Xirnah. In fact, Frankie couldn’t see who it was—her face was concealed in shadows. Kerov was kissing her tenderly, ionately, as he cupped her cheek in his big palm. The girl kissed him back eagerly—as hungry for him as he was for her. As Frankie watched, Kerov gently but firmly brought the girl’s hands above her head, pinning them in place with one hand so that she was completely helpless under him. With the other, he guided himself into her, sliding his shaft slowly into her pussy. The girl gave a soft cry and spread her thighs wider, clearly trying to be open enough to receive him. In the fantasy—for that was what it must be, Frankie realized—Kerov paused for a moment.

“All right?” he rumbled softly in that deep voice of his. The girl nodded. “Yes,” she whispered. “More…please…” “I’ll give you more, shalla,” he murmured and then he began to thrust. But not wildly or out of control, the way Carlos had done. The big Kindred thrust with a slow, deliberate rhythm that made the girl under him moan and buck up to meet him, trying to get his big cock deeper into her willing pussy. And the entire time, Kerov was looking into her eyes, never breaking . He was murmuring to her too—something too soft for Frankie to hear. But whatever it was, it drove the girl under him wild. She moaned softly and thrashed beneath his big body, giving herself completely, eagerly, wanting him as badly as he wanted her… “Madre de Dios,” Frankie breathed. The hot scene she was watching had the shaft between her thighs hard and aching—throbbing for release with an urgency she’d never felt before. “Sorry.” Kerov seemed to realize she was sharing his fantasy and he cut it off abruptly. “I didn’t mean for you to see that.” “I didn’t mind,” Frankie assured him. “It was, um, kind of hot, actually.” “It’s just something I think about sometimes,” he confessed. “Being with a female who wants to be with me. Who desires me as I desire her.” “And who isn’t colder than ice on the inside,” Frankie put in. “That too,” Kerov agreed and sighed. “But it is only a fantasy—a deviant fantasy that I should not have shared.” “It’s not deviant where I come from,” Frankie assured him. “And it didn’t bother me—really.” Well, except for the shaft between her legs which now refused to go down. She shifted uncomfortably onto her side in the hard mattress, willing the throbbing hardness to deflate. Damn, how did guys sleep with these things between their legs?

“Are you all right?” Kerov asked. “Fine,” Frankie assured him quickly. But when she rolled to her back, the long, hard shaft pressed against the furry green coverlet, causing a considerable tent. Even worse, Frankie could feel something wet at the sensitive tip of it. Damn, was it leaking precum? Had Kerov’s fantasy really turned her on that much? She reached down to find out and bit back a moan at the pleasure of her own touch. Sure enough, it was leaking all right. And throbbing and hard and ready to come. “Frankie?” Kerov’s deep voice sounded uncertain. “Uh, sorry!” Frankie jerked her hand away quickly. She was just a guest in this body, she reminded herself. Kerov had asked her to touch his shaft earlier in order to do what had to be done with Xirnah. But she was pretty sure that invitation to touch didn’t extend to her exploring his cock under the covers when she was supposed to be trying to get to sleep. “You can touch it…if you want to,” he murmured, surprising her. “What?” Frankie wasn’t sure she’d heard him right. “You, uh, want me to do that? To touch it?” “Only if you want to.” He made an embarrassed sound like clearing his throat. “It, uh, helps me go to sleep sometimes. That’s all.” “All right.” Frankie knew she probably shouldn’t do it but his cock was throbbing so insistently she didn’t see how she could ever make it go down otherwise. Tentatively, she reached beneath the furry green cover and grasped the long, hard, hot shaft in one hand. A tingling pleasure rose once again at her own touch and Frankie had to bite back a moan as she explored the thick appendage. Dios, he was so big—so long and hard and hot in her hand. It was a strange sensation—touching a man’s body and being able to feel the pleasure her hand gave him—but it felt good all the same. Incredible, actually. “That’s right,” she heard Kerov growl softly. “Touch it…stroke it.”

“Okay…” Frankie found that she was breathing harder. She threw back the cover to give herself more room to work and grasped his shaft more fully. Boldly, she cupped the sensitive sack beneath, tickling his balls and making both of them groan before caressing back up to the broad head, now slippery with precum. “Gods,” she heard Kerov groan in her head. “I love the way you touch me, Frankie. Feels incredible.” “It feels…feels pretty amazing to me too,” she itted breathlessly, stroking up and down the thick shaft more rapidly. The sensations were different from the ones she experienced in her own body when she touched herself. They were more urgent somehow and she felt the almost undeniable urge to thrust. “Make a fist around my shaft and thrust into it,” Kerov told her, clearly sensing her need. “Pump your hips.” Frankie did as he demanded without hesitation. Somehow feeling the pleasure of his big body as her own seemed to double and then triple the sensations. Having Kerov mentally connected to her seem to heighten every touch, every word and action. It was sexual experience unlike any she’d ever had and Frankie loved it. “Harder!” he demanded. “Yes!” she gasped and pumped harder, thrusting as she stroked his throbbing cock with a rough caress. In the dark with his deep voice in her ear and the pleasure rolling through her she didn’t think about how strange the situation was. She couldn’t spare a thought for anything but how deep the pleasure was and how it built and built as the delicious friction of the thick shaft pumping up into her grip went on and on… “Faster,” Kerov urged hoarsely. “Do it faster. Let the pleasure build until you explode.” “I don’t think that’s going to take very long,” Frankie panted. “In fact I think I’m going to…to…” “Come,” Kerov finished for her. “Come, Frankie…come hard for me, now.” “Ahh!” She didn’t know if it was his deep voice in her ear or the pleasure of her

grip on his shaft but suddenly she felt a tightness in his balls and then his thick cock was shooting, pulsing hot spurts onto his flat belly as the sensation crested and overflowed. “Gods!” she heard Kerov groan. “Gods, yes!” The pleasure seemed to go on and on, intensified by the strange connection she had with the big Kindred. Then, slowly, it ebbed. “Mmmm…” Frankie stretched as a sudden intense lethargy overwhelmed her. “That was…amazing,” she whispered to Kerov. “The most intense orgasm I’ve ever had,” he agreed. “I wonder if it’s because of the Switch?” “Whatever the reason it was…” Frankie yawned. “It was wonderful.” She felt the flat, corded abdomen which was now sticky with drying cum. “Oh, I know I need to clean up but I’m suddenly so tired.” “It’s all right,” Kerov told her. “Just go to sleep. I’ll handle it in the morning.” “I guess if this works I’ll never see you again.” Frankie felt suddenly sad at the thought. “I mean, we don’t really know each other but somehow we do. I feel… connected to you somehow.” “It’s because of the Switch, I think. Old stories say that it’s the strongest connection possible between a male and female. I just wish…I wish I could have met you in real life.” Kerov sounded wistful again. “I wish so too,” Frankie whispered. Sleep was creeping up on her and she yawned again. “I hope…hope I didn’t screw up your life too badly.” “I’ll manage,” Kerov murmured. “I’ll…” But before she could hear what else he said, Frankie drifted off to sleep.

She opened her eyes only once in the middle of the night and saw the familiar gleam of the round single moon shining through her bedroom window. So it’s over, she thought. It was all only a dream. Just a really bizarre dream. Part of her couldn’t help wishing it was real somehow, that there really was a man named Kerov in a distant galaxy that she had met and somehow merged with. But she knew it couldn’t be true. With a sigh, she rolled over and went back to sleep.

Six

Kerov knew something was wrong the moment he opened his eyes. His first clue was the light coming in through the window—it was golden. The sun his planet orbited was a red giant, which gave the light a reddish hue. But the sunbeams pouring through the window were warm and yellow—not right at all. Come to think of it, the window itself was wrong too. Kerov’s bedroom window was little more than a slit. This one was wide and covered in lacy white fabric. Fabric? Since when have I ever had fabric over my window? What is the point of such a thing? He lifted his head for a better look and a mass of wavy black hair fell around his shoulders. Startled, he jerked his head to one side and groaned as the sudden movement sent a bolt of pain through his neck. What in the Seven Hells was going on? He lifted a hand to massage his neck but found himself staring at it instead. In the early morning light, the hand in front of his face wasn’t what he expected to see. Instead of the big, broad palm and long fingers with short, neat nails, he saw a petite, shapely hand less than half the size of his own. It had incredibly soft skin and slender fingers tipped with almond shaped nails painted petal pink. Kerov stared blankly at the hand for a moment and then looked at the rest of the room. It was clearly a sleeping chamber but it wasn’t his sleeping chamber, that was for certain. The coverlet on the sleeping platform was a warm rose-gold and there was a fuzzy pelt of some kind on the floor beside it that matched. What in the Seven Hells? he thought, looking at it blankly. What kind of animal could such a strange pelt have come from? And why skin it and leave the skin on the floor by the sleeping platform? Kerov sat up and put his feet—which were petite with pink toenails—down on the soft pelt and stood shakily. He still felt fuzzy from sleep—he’d had a very strange dream he couldn’t quite . Come to think of it, maybe he was still dreaming. That would certainly explain the strange light and surroundings and the way his body didn’t look like his own.

There was a door cracked open across from the sleeping platform. Kerov walked rather unsteadily over to it and grabbed the handle. He yanked it open and had to bite back a surprised yelp at the sight that met his eyes. A petite female with light brown skin a few shades darker than his own and big, almond shaped brown eyes was staring at him from the small, dark room. Framing her face was a wild mass of wavy black hair. She had a shapely little nose, a determined looking chin, and full, luscious lips. “Hello?” Kerov said but his voice came out sounding all wrong—it was high and feminine—not the bass rumble he was used to hearing when he spoke. Instinctively, he put a hand to his mouth and the girl did the same, her petite hand with its pink nails coming up to cover those luscious lips. “Who are you?” he said, pushing the door open wider to it more light into the small, dark space. Again his voice sounded strange and the girl’s lips moved when he spoke. As daylight flooded the dark room he could see her more clearly. Slowly, Kerov realized that the girl wasn’t another person—she was an image reflected in some kind of shiny, silver viewer hanging on the wall. An image of him. Suddenly the strange dream he’d had came rushing back to him. Being taken over on the pubtrans station by a strange female—by Frankie—who suddenly had control of his body. The incomplete Switch which had led to the most disastrous mandatory sexual encounter he’d ever had and Xirnah threatening to declare him impotent. And then the unparalleled pleasure he’d felt as Frankie stroked his shaft until he came—until they both came harder than he could ever coming before… Goddess above—it wasn’t a dream! The realization hit him like a blow to the gut. He stared at himself in the shiny viewer and ran one trembling hand through the long, wild black hair. It was a soft, shiny mass around his head that felt utterly different from his own trim, no nonsense haircut. The body he was in was completely different from his own too. He was short now—petite and curved instead of tall and muscular. Not that this body was

exactly soft—he could feel strength in it and the muscles seemed toned but they were so small compared to what he was used to. Frankie—I must be in her body, he thought, looking down at himself. He was wearing a long, soft shirt that had a picture of some kind of animal lying on its back with its legs in the air. Its mouth was open and a long pink tongue was lolling out. Hmm—either it was dozing or it was dead. Kerov couldn’t tell though he did think it would be strange to wear a garment with the picture of a dead animal on it to sleep in. Then again, where he came from, it was strange to wear a garment with any kind of picture on it. Such a thing would have been considered distracting—an unwanted display of individuality which the State would not have allowed. But Kerov was more interested in what lay under the long shirt than the picture on the front of it. Two soft mounds pressed against the soft fabric—breasts. Unable to help his curiosity, Kerov lifted the shirt and looked down. Yes, they were indeed breasts—fucking gorgeous ones. They weren’t huge but that was fine with him—he’d always thought Xirnah’s were too large and thrusting—not that she ever let him touch them, of course, but he’d seen them once or twice when her sex garment fell open. His State mandated sexual partner’s breasts were high and full and pale white with little pink nipples the size of his smallest fingernail. The breasts he was currently examining were very different. Besides being smaller they looked softer somehow—more yielding. And the nipples were much larger—wide brown bands with peaks that tightened enticingly in the chilly morning air. Beautiful, Kerov thought, staring down at them. He could imagine cupping these soft, tender breasts…rubbing his face between their full slopes and feeling their silky texture against his cheeks and lips. And then he would suck one of those tight brown nipples into his mouth and circle it with his tongue, teasing the hot little peak until she moaned and begged… Experimentally, he brushed one nipple with his fingertips and sucked in a breath at the answering burst of pleasure. So sensitive! Much more so than the flat copper disks of his own nipples. He did it again and then grasped both tight peaks between his fingers and tugged gently.

Gods! The sensation made him feel weak in the knees. And it wasn’t just the bolts of pleasure that shot through this new body at the gentle touch—it was the erotic act of actually touching breasts for the first time. It was something Kerov had always longed to do. Such intimacy, however, was strictly forbidden. And though he had heard of some sexually mandated partners finding common ground and indulging in such things from time to time, he himself had never had a partner who was willing to bend the rules. He tugged the nipples some more to feel the sensation again. This time, in addition to the pleasure in the tender peaks, there was an answering tug somewhere south of his navel. Instinctively, Kerov pressed his thighs together, increasing and heightening the pleasure. Then he frowned—normally if he was getting excited he would have spread his thighs to give his shaft room to grow. Of course, if this was Frankie’s body there would be no shaft. That only made sense but Kerov still felt a stab of apprehension as he looked down at the little pink undergarments that covered her sex. Taking a breath, he pulled back the waistband and looked inside. Sure enough, there was no shaft. But what he did see made him catch his breath. The soft little mound of Frankie’s sex was an enticing sight. It had a small, neatly trimmed patch of curls and the outer lips looked swollen and puffy, as though they needed to be touched or stroked. Kerov was about to reach down and cup her soft little cunt in his hand when he had a guilty thought. This was Frankie’s body he was touching here—her erogenous zones he was playing with and drawing erotic responses from. How would she feel about him performing forbidden acts on her without her knowledge? And where was she, anyway? Last time they had been two spirits in one body. Was he alone this time? Or was she hanging back, watching him from the corners of her own mind, waiting to see what else he would do to her? “Frankie?” he asked, under his breath. But he got no answer and didn’t feel her presence either. Could it be they had undergone a complete Switch this time? But how was that possible when their physical bodies were so many light years apart? And if it was somehow possible, what was Frankie doing in his body right now? Had the night ed on his home planet? Was she up and awake and doing things?

A sudden thought made him groan. Last night after their mutual orgasm he had felt Frankie leave. He’d gotten up to clean himself and heard a rapping at his door. Kerov had been afraid it was Xirnah, back to give him a piece of her mind but instead it had been his friend, Jorn. He’d been dead drunk and in need of a place to sleep—Kerov had let him in and allowed him to use the cot in his small utility room. Was he still there now? And if so, could Frankie fool him enough to make him believe she was Kerov? As far as that went, could she make the rest of the people in Kerov’s life believe she was him? He had to inspect his battalion and lead the review and later came the banquet…how would she handle such things? Not very well, Kerov was afraid. She didn’t know the first thing about how people were supposed to behave on his home planet. Come to think of it, though, he didn’t know the first thing about how they behaved here, either—only that things seemed to be freer and more permissive, at least to hear Frankie tell it. I’m sure I can manage, Kerov told himself uneasily. I’ll just stay here. If I don’t go out, there’s no way I can damage any aspect of Frankie’s life. Rap-rap-rap! A loud rapping sound came from another part of the domicile, making Kerov jerk. Then he heard someone shouting. “Frankie? Frankie, are you okay?” Kerov became suddenly aware that he was still standing in front of the small viewer with Frankie’s night shirt pulled up and her pink underthings pulled down, exposing all her most tender and private areas. Gods! Quickly, he pulled up the small pink undergarments and yanked down the shirt with the picture of the sleeping or deceased animal on it. The banging and calling came again—whoever it was sounded very upset. Kerov debated going to talk to them but he was afraid he would ruin one of Frankie’s personal relationships much as she had ruined his with Xirnah—not that it was a great loss in his case. Far better just to stay here and keep quiet. Eventually whoever it is will grow tired of knocking and go away, he told himself uneasily. But then he heard a clicking, scraping sound coming from the front of the domicile.

“Frankie?” the voice called again—it was feminine and sounded worried. “Frankie, are you okay? Why aren’t you answering your phone?” Uh-oh—it was getting closer. Somehow whoever it was had gotten into the domicile. Kerov thought about hiding in the small room with the viewer—which seemed to be some kind of a fresher. But before he could, a tall, slender female with long, straight blonde hair came barging into the sleeping chamber. She had on loose pink clothing and with her narrow waist and hips, she didn’t look that different from a Tarsian woman, although her hair was a darker blonde. “There you are!” Her voice went high with relief. “God, you had me so worried!” “I am sorry you felt worried for me,” Kerov responded, hoping he sounded enough like Frankie to avoid suspicion. “I didn’t hear you because I was in the fresher.” The girl frowned. “The fresher?” “Um…the…” Kerov fumbled frantically for the right word. To his surprise, it rose to the front of his mind as if by magic. “In the bathroom, I mean. I was in the bathroom.” “In the bathroom for a whole hour?” the girl demanded. “Because that’s how long I’ve been calling you. When you didn’t answer I got so worried I had to come over here. I worked a double yesterday, you know—I’ve still got on my scrubs. I would much rather be home in bed but no—you asked me to call just to be on the safe side.” “I did?” Kerov looked at her blankly. “Don’t you ?” The girl frowned at him. “You asked me ages ago—you said you wanted to be absolutely certain you were on time for your big test at the Lotus Pond.” She frowned at him. “And look at you—you’re still wearing your jammies. I thought you told me the test was at nine and it’s already eight fortyfive!” “A test?” he repeated blankly. Seven Hells, this wasn’t good—in fact, it was terrible! How could he be tested on knowledge that only Frankie had? If only she were here with him but he still felt no inkling of her presence in his head.

Frankie, where are you? he thought desperately. We had an incomplete Switch before—why couldn’t we have it again? But the other girl was already shoving him out of the small fresher and back into the sleeping area. “Yes, a test,” she repeated. “What’s with you today? You don’t seem like yourself at all.” “Don’t I?” Kerov tensed his jaw. Was she on to him? Did Frankie’s people know anything about body switching? Or was it simply a turn of phrase? “No, you don’t. Now come on—get dressed!” Kerov frowned. “No. I cannot go to the test. It is…a bad time for me.” “What—you mean you have your period?” The blonde girl frowned. “Well too bad—take a couple of ibuprofen and get over it. All you’ve been talking about for months was taking this test and getting a job at the Lotus Pond so you don’t have to work at Victoria’s Suckret anymore. You can’t let a few cramps stop you from making that happen!” As she spoke, she went to a waist high piece of furniture with drawers in it. Pulling them open, she began pawing through a selection of garments. Kerov watched her uneasily—yoga? What was that? And what kind of test was Frankie supposed to take for it? Unbidden, an image rose to his mind—several females in form fitting clothes bending and stretching, striking various poses as soothing music played in the background. Kerov frowned. Was he somehow accessing Frankie’s memories, even though she wasn’t there? He had heard that this was sometimes possible in a Switch, if the partners were a perfect match, made by the Goddess. But he barely knew Frankie and they were light years apart. He shouldn’t be able to get anything from her memories at all. But regardless of the impossibility, he seemed to have access to her knowledge. He drew on it now, pulling out pieces of information much as the blonde girl was pulling things out of her drawers.

Yoga…meditation…breathing…It calms the mind, sooths the spirit, and unifies the body, Frankie’s store of information informed him. Kerov didn’t see how bending and stretching and breathing could do all that but at least he had some idea of what her test was about now. “Here—your lucky yoga pants. Put them on, quick! And a matching bra and panties set to make you feel pretty and confident…and this purple crop top—it looks good on you and you’ll be able to do all the inversions without worrying that it will ride up or fall down.” The blonde girl shoved a bundle of garments at him and Kerov grabbed them by instinct. Then he just stood there—could he really do this? Or should he insist that he had to stay here at Frankie’s domicile and refuse to take the test? “Well? Come on—hurry! We have to be there in ten minutes!” “I do not think—” “Do you want to fail?” the blonde girl demanded. “Come on—it’s now or never. Let’s go!” Her words got Kerov moving. Though he had only limited access to Frankie’s knowledge about this yoga discipline, he couldn’t let her fail through his inaction. She had at least tried to do what had to be done for him during his mandatory sexual encounter with Xirnah—he could do no less for her. Quickly, he began stripping off Frankie’s night clothes, even though he felt strange about baring this new body in front of the other female. But the blonde girl was too busy hunting around Frankie’s domicile to notice what he was doing. “Well here’s your phone,” she announced as Kerov was trying to figure out the small, lacy underthings she had provided along with the tros and shirt. “And no wonder you couldn’t hear me calling—you have it turned on silent for some reason!” “I am sorry if I caused you to worry,” Kerov said, trying to sound apologetic. He had figured out how to get into the lacy bottom part of the underthings—which were a bright blue. They went on like the pink ones he had taken off. But the other garment was a complete mystery. It had two loops and two straps in the

back and two cups in the front. What was it anyway? Evidently it went on under the purple top—at least he thought it did but he couldn’t see how to get it on. Eventually, he decided to go without it. After all, he would have the top on— what difference would it make if there was something under it? “Where are your keys? Honestly, Frankie, you know I love you but you’re so disorganized!” The blonde girl was still searching the domicile as he pulled on the short, tight purple shirt and turned his attention to the tros. They were made of some stretchy black fabric that clung to his curves—well, Frankie’s curves anyway—in a skin-tight fashion that was most distracting. As he adjusted the tight tros the blonde girl had called “lucky yoga pants,” Kerov found a new distraction. The reason the tros were tight was because they had a lot to contain. To his surprise, he found that Frankie was shaped differently from any woman he had ever seen. She lacked the narrow hips and nonexistent posterior of a Tarsian female. Instead, her hips flared into two, lush curves and her behind… Gods, so full…so soft and yet so firm! Kerov stood there mesmerized, feeling the anatomy in question and wishing he could get a better look at it. As fascinated and turned on as he’d been by her breasts, he was twice as interested in her curvy bottom. The idea of a woman who had curves, who had something to hold on to, was new and exciting and very, very arousing. “Uh…Frankie? Why are you standing in the middle of the room groping your own ass? Are those yoga pants not fitting right?” The words made him look up and he realized Frankie’s blonde friend was no longer searching the domicile for the missing keys. Instead, she was staring at Kerov with a quizzical look on her face. “Fine. They fit just fine.” He tore his hands away from Frankie’s lush behind, feeling a hot blush creep into his cheeks. Seven Hells, he was never going to be able to this test if he kept letting himself get distracted like this! “Okay, good.” The girl sighed. “Then let’s just go. I’ll drive you—I might as well. I’m up anyway and I can never get to sleep once the sun is really up. Come on.” She led the way to the outer door and Kerov followed her silently, watching as

she locked the door behind them with a short metal rod. That must be a key like the one she had been looking for. They had such things on his home planet but they weren’t used for doors—only for locking the manacles on prisoners and enemies of the State. Down several flights of steps they went and then Kerov found himself stepping outside. He had to shield his eyes against the bright sunlight—a more powerful glare than the Tarsian sun put out even at the height of the growing season. “You okay?” The blonde girl was frowning at him. From somewhere she had produced new eyewear with two dark lenses which hid her eyes. They made her look like a slender, alien insect—at least to Kerov. “I am well—I mean, okay,” he said, using one of Frankie’s words. “It’s just your sun is so bright.” He shielded his eyes, annoyed. “Yeah, well, welcome to Florida. They don’t call us the sunshine state for nothing—now come on.” Half blinded by the glare, Kerov nearly missed the small, blue vehicle the blonde girl was heading for. It had four black wheels and see through shields in the front and back and on both sides. “Come on, hurry!” Frankie’s friend insisted. She pointed a small black compact device at the vehicle and pressed a button. Immediately the vehicle made a soft boop-boop sound. “Get in—it’s unlocked,” the blonde girl said. Kerov headed for the door she seemed to be indicating and tried to figure out how to open it. Then a shiny silver handle caught his eye, gleaming in the merciless sunlight. He grasped it and yanked, causing the door to fly open, almost knocking him and the blonde girl behind him over. “What are you doing?” the girl demanded. “You think you can get us there faster?” “You said to get in,” Kerov pointed out. “Yes, but I didn’t say drive. Still, if you want to—here.” She handed him a bewildering array of keys all held together by a number of round metal rings. Then she went around to the other side of the vehicle, opened the door, and slid

in. Kerov frowned, feeling more and more out of his depth. Now he was supposed to drive the alien vehicle? How was he going to manage that? Frantically, he rummaged through Frankie’s mind, trying to find out how to work the vehicle. But it wasn’t like there was any kind of an orderly filing system— Frankie’s mind was a jumble. It was as though he was in a vast, open warehouse with colorful piles comprised of thoughts, memories, opinions, wishes, hopes, and dreams spread all over the floor and he was sifting through them, trying to find just the right one. Driving…driving…driving a vehicle. A…a car—yes, a car. The word came to him and with it, images of Frankie being taught to drive by her father who squeezed his hands into fists and muttered something that sounded suspiciously like a prayer in another language as the car they were in lurched all over the road. That memory led to another—her father as a younger man teaching Frankie to ride a two wheeled contraption. He ran along beside her, giving her instructions as she wobbled and tried not to fall over. “Well? Are we going or not?” Frankie’s friend demanded, breaking his concentration. Kerov opened his mouth to make some excuse as to why he couldn’t drive but just then, a memory clicked into place. Put the key in and turn it…press the pedals to stop and go…use the wheel to steer, Frankie’s mind informed him. Apparently she had driven her friend’s vehicle before because Kerov was somehow able to pick the right key from the bewildering array. “Yes, we’re going,” he said shortly, twisting the ignition key and hearing the alien transport roar to life. Kerov pressed the pedal and the little car jerked forward, causing the blonde girl beside him to gasp. “Sorry,” he muttered, twisting the wheel in front of him forcefully to get from the small parking area onto the road which stretched like a black ribbon in front of him. “Hey, Lotus Pond is that way!” the girl shouted.

“All right.” Kerov twisted the wheel again, forcing the vehicle around in a 180. There were cars coming from the other direction and their drivers made angry beeping and honking noises as he veered into their lane. Some even made hand gestures which Kerov was reasonably sure weren’t complimentary but none of them hit him. “What are you doing?” The blonde girl looked at him with wide eyes. “My God, Frankie—you’re going to get us killed!” “No I won’t. Let me concentrate.” Kerov thought he was getting the hang of it now. The Kindred genes in his DNA made him a natural with alien dialects, machinery, and modes of transportation. Though he had never had to use these gifts before, he found they came more easily than he had expected. “Concentrate all you want but that’s a red light up ahead,” the girl said flatly. “And that semi coming through the intersection isn’t stopping for anyone.” Kerov frowned, wondering what she was talking about. He searched Frankie’s memory…semi—a huge truck usually carrying goods from one place to another. Ah—now he saw it! It was a vast gray vehicle, rectangular in the back, and it was moving ponderously through the intersection ahead. In fact, many cars seemed to be moving back and forth while others were stopped. “Red light!” The girl sounded panicked now. “Red light, Frankie!” Kerov looked up and saw that there was indeed a red light hanging from a yellow rectangular box above them. Hmm…red light…red light. It means… “Stop!” his enger screamed. Instinctively, Kerov stamped down on one of the pedals—unfortunately it was the accelerator, not the brake. The blonde girl screamed breathlessly as the car jumped forward, right into the middle of the intersection. More horns blew and curses were shouted. Kerov had to twist the wheel quickly this way and that to avoid getting flattened. They barely missed the huge semi, the little car whipping around it at the last moment while Frankie’s friend shrieked in his ear. And then they were through to the other side without even a scratch. It was blind

luck, and Kerov knew it. Understanding how the mechanism worked wasn’t enough. He shouldn’t have agreed to drive the alien car without knowing the rules of the road here. His companion seemed to think he shouldn’t be driving either. “What’s wrong with you?” she gasped, looking at him with wide, terrified eyes. “I know you’re worried about being late but we could have died.” Kerov had had more brushes with death than he could count on the battlefield so he wasn’t as badly shaken as the blonde girl. But he knew he had frightened her and she was Frankie’s friend. Doubtless she would be suspecting there was something wrong—he was certain Frankie didn’t usually drive this recklessly. “Forgive me,” he said, turning his head briefly to give her a sincere look. “I pressed the accelerator instead of the braking mechanism by mistake. But I didn’t mean to frighten you, truly.” The girl shook her head. “’Accelerator?’ ‘Braking mechanism?’ You’re just acting and talking so weird today! What’s gotten into you?” More like ‘who’? Kerov thought but didn’t say. “I had a strange dream,” he said aloud, still concentrating on the road ahead of him. Frankie’s memories were informing him that he had to turn left in two more lights. This time he was being careful only to drive through the intersections if the lights were green or yellow—although her memories informed him this last was somewhat risky. “A dream? A dream is why you’re acting so weird?” Frankie’s friend asked. “What was it about?” “It was about a male—er, a man—from another planet,” Kerov said. After all, Frankie had told him that she had dreamed of him. “He was tall and had light hair and eyes. The dream was…disturbing.” “Was he a Kindred?” the girl asked. She seemed to have settled down some now that Kerov’s driving had improved, which was good. But her question startled

him. “How did you know that?” he demanded, turning to glare at her. “Easy—there’s no need to stare daggers at me! It’s just that they say some girls start dreaming of the Kindred warrior who comes to claim them right before it happens, that’s all.” She sighed. “Of course, I know you don’t want anything to do with being a Kindred bride.” “I don’t?” For some reason this piece of information made Kerov’s gut knot into a fist. “It’s your worst nightmare—you were just telling me it would give your grandma a heart attack.” The girl frowned at him. “Don’t you ?” “Of course,” Kerov lied, looking straight ahead. So Frankie wanted nothing to do with the Kindred. She must feel the same way about his people as Xirnah did. The knowledge made him clench his jaw. For some reason, he’d thought she was different. That she didn’t hate the Kindred as many of the Tarsians of his home planet did. But it looked like he had been wrong. She— “Be careful—you’re about to miss your turn,” Frankie’s friend said. “Fine.” Kerov swung the wheel recklessly and barreled into the parking lot she was indicating. His enger gasped and horns blew again but he barely noticed. He guided the car into a place indicated by white lines drawn on the black pavement and stopped the mechanism by removing the key. “Hey, you didn’t even put it into park first!” The blonde girl reached across and did something to the steering mechanism. “What’s wrong, Frankie? Are you just nervous about your test or are you upset about what I said about the Kindred?” “Neither. I am fine.” Kerov stared stoically ahead. But he couldn’t feel quite as disconnected from his emotions as he wanted to. The body he was inhabiting— Frankie’s body—seemed to have feelings that were closer to the surface than his own. Why am I so upset? he asked himself. This is ridiculous—I don’t even really

know Frankie. I’ve never even met her in person. No, he was just inhabiting her body the same way she had inhabited his. Somehow it seemed to form a bond that was both immediate and inescapable. To hear that she hated his kind hurt—hurt a hell of a lot. “Honey, you’re crying.” The blonde girl put her arms around him and drew him into a comforting hug. “I am?” Kerov never cried. He could not the last time tears had come to his eyes—even when he lost his best lieutenant in a particularly fierce battle with the Swarm. He pulled out of her embrace and put a hand to his cheek—sure enough, it came away wet. What was wrong with him? Was it that Frankie’s body was more prone to emotion? “It’s going to be okay,” Frankie’s friend told him. “Honestly, it is—you know this stuff cold. Just go in there and knock Sheila dead.” Kerov stared at her in incomprehension. “Knock her dead?” Did she mean that he should kill the instructor istering Frankie’s test if he didn’t manage to it? Was that something that was done on this world? He looked down at himself—could he kill in this body? It was so much smaller and weaker than his own and he had no weapon—still, he had hand-to-hand combat skills that could take down an opponent of any size if the need arose… “You know what I mean—just do a great job.” Frankie’s friend patted him on the shoulder. “Oh. Of course.” Kerov lifted his chin. So no killing was necessary. That was good. “I will.” “Good—then you’d better get going. You’re only five minutes late thanks to you driving like a bat out of Hell but Sheila doesn’t like to be kept waiting.” She shooed Kerov out of the car and he walked up to the building Frankie’s memory informed him was the Lotus Pond Yoga Studio. Before going in he took a deep breath—he only hoped his limited access to Frankie’s memories would be enough to help him her test. Otherwise he didn’t know what he was going

to do. Damn you, Frankie, he thought. I’ll do my best for you, even though I know you hate my kind. But where in the Seven Hells are you and what are you doing?

Seven

Frankie woke up to a blaring sound and a flashing light that scared the Hell out of her. Her first panicked thought was, Fire Drill! And for a moment she felt like a kid again, the hush of a busy school day broken by the loud bray of the fire alarm. But when she opened her eyes there was no classroom filled with kids around her—just a dim room with pale red light coming in the window. The brighter, flashing light and the braying alarm were coming from something else—a black box about as big as her hand on a long, metal arm. It was hovering right in front of her face. “What the…?” Frankie stared at it with incomprehension. The alarm faded for a moment and a voice came out of the black box instead. “Wake,” it said in a tinny, robotic voice. “This is your first call to wake. It is osix-hundred hours. Wake.” “Get away from me! Get out of my face!” Frankie slapped at it blearily, batting the black box away. Then she noticed that the arm she reached out to slap it with was long and extremely muscular. And the hand was large with long fingers and short, neat nails—not the almond shaped pink ones that tipped her own fingers. Lifting the arm, she looked at the armpit which had a small tuft of dark hair— yup, definitely a man’s arm. Kerov’s arm. Oh crap—not again! Frankie groaned and rolled out of bed, almost falling because the big Kindred’s mattress was placed so much higher than her own. She stumbled to the 3-D mirror thing to make sure of what she already knew. Sure enough, Kerov’s strong features and pale gray eyes stared back at her when she called for the overhead lights and looked at her reflection. She was back in his body all right—how had it happened again? And what was she going to do about it? Come to think of it, what would he do about it? He certainly wasn’t going to be happy. “Sorry about this,” she said aloud, speaking to him directly. “I, uh, don’t know

how I ended up back here again. I know you must be sick of me by now.” She waited…and waited and waited but there was no answer. “Kerov?” she asked, feeling a hard knot of panic begin to form in her stomach. “Kerov? This isn’t funny—wake up and talk to me!” Still nothing and she didn’t feel him either. His presence in the back of her head was completely absent. She was alone in an alien male’s body hundreds of light years from home. Okay—it’s okay, Frankie told herself sternly. Don’t panic—everything is going to be fine. Although she didn’t know how. What if she was stuck in Kerov this time? What if he was off inhabiting her body or even someone else’s body and he was never coming back? What if she never got back to Earth or her own body again? No—can’t think like that! Kerov said his people used to be able to Switch with each other—that means they must have been able to switch back too. We’ll switch back eventually—I just have to keep calm until we do. Frankie decided to take a hot shower and get dressed to calm her nerves. Then she would spend a little time exploring his apartment to take her mind off this whole situation. She started to look for some clothes and a towel but she caught sight of herself in the 3-D viewer again. Wow, Kerov’s shaft was really hard this morning! What had caused that? Was she horny? She searched her body but no—she felt much too frightened and worried to be aroused. She did, however, feel a certain urgency in her bladder. Great—I have to pee! No sooner had she thought it than the urgency became much more intense. Stumbling in her haste, she ran into the bathroom—no, the fresher—and stood in front of the weird rocking chair toilet.

“Okay, now how the Hell do I use this thing?” she muttered. “Dios—why would you make a toilet that looks like this anyway?” Despite the fact that it was strange, her first thought was to sit down on the rocking seat and relieve herself in a seated position as she always had back in her own body. But Kerov’s shaft was sticking straight up, pointing at his navel. She would get pee all over herself that way. Well, what if she stood up, like men did? She tried it, awkwardly leaning over the bowl, trying to get the stupid, stiff shaft to point in the right direction but she was still afraid she was going to spray everywhere but in the bowl. “Madre de Dios—how do men manage with these stupid things?” she muttered. “How am I supposed to pee with this thing pointed straight at the sky?” Suddenly, an image filled her head—a memory or thought that didn’t feel like her own. In it, she saw a large masculine hand reaching for a small attachment at the side of the rocking toilet bowl and pulling it forward. Frankie frowned—was this Kerov’s memory? If so, how had she accessed it? She felt another urgent surge in the bladder region and decided she didn’t care how she’d gotten the memory as long as it helped her. Reaching forward, she groped for the small attachment, found it and pulled it forward. It looked a little like a cup attached to a long tube. Frankie stared at it, frowning —was she supposed to pee into that? But what if her aim wasn’t good? And worse, what if it wasn’t meant to be used for this purpose at all. This might be Kerov’s version of a toothbrush that she was contemplating urinating on. It might be— Her thoughts were cut off when the cup seemed to come to life in her hands. It dove forward like a striking snake and attached itself to the head of Kerov’s cock. “What? Hey! Oh my God—stop!” Panicked, Frankie tried to yank back away from the thing but it had a firm hold on her now and was gripping all around the end of Kerov’s penis like a very determined suction cup. “Help!” Frankie yanked at the tubing attached to it with no result. She tried

swiveling her hips but that didn’t do any good either. In the meantime, she could feel a hard suction coming from the cup, almost as though the damn thing wanted to suck Kerov’s equipment right off. “Get off me! Help! Help!” Frankie was twisting and turning, trying desperately to get away from the suction cup when she heard someone clear their throat behind her. Turning her head, she saw a tall man with narrow shoulders and white-blond hair staring at her. “Uh, Kerov, why are you fighting with the liquid waste collector?” He gave her a quizzical look. Frankie wanted to demand who he was but just in time she realized he must be Kerov’s friend. And from his rumpled appearance and bloodshot eyes it looked like he had spent the night. Maybe in the guest room. Did Kerov have a guest room? “Well?” he demanded when she didn’t immediately answer. “What are you shouting about?” “This thing has got hold of Kerov’s—I mean of my dick and it won’t let go!” she blurted, her panic overcoming her fear of seeing a strange man suddenly appear. She couldn’t help the urge to cover her naked body, though—one hand cupped over Kerov’s shaft and the other arm instinctively covered her chest. “Of course it has—it’s waiting for you to relieve yourself.” The man frowned at her and rubbed a hand over his tousled blond hair. “It won’t let go until you do.” “It…won’t?” She risked a peek at the member in question, which still had the suction cup attached to its head. “Of course not—you know that. Is there some problem with it? And why are you covering yourself like that?” He nodded down at her arm which was still draped modestly over her breasts—breasts she didn’t have while inhabiting Kerov’s big, male body, Frankie realized. “Uh, no problem,” she said, dropping her arm abruptly to bare Kerov’s flat, muscular chest. “But this damn…waste collection thing, it’s…it’s, new. I just

had it put in last week and it’s kind of, uh, tight—that’s all.” “All right, well try not to shout about it.” The blond man frowned. “I told you when you let me in last night how much I’d had to drink—my head is pounding this morning and I’d hoped to get in a little more sleep before we have to go in for the review.” “The review?” Frankie stared at him blankly. Kerov had said something about some kind of banquet but he hadn’t mentioned anything about any kind of review. “Of course—the review of troops to be held this morning at o-eight hundred. Your battalion is leading the parade and mine is bringing up the rear.” He made a face. “Don’t pretend you’re so modest you forgot the honor of leading. Although between you and me, I’d say the only reason Brigadier Tlox put your battalion in front was because you look so fucking splendid riding Ursa.” He shook his head. “How you tamed that big bitch I’ll never know but she does look grand at the head of a parade.” Frankie was beginning to experience a different kind of panic than the one she’d felt when the weird pee-tube latched onto Kerov’s junk. Apparently she was supposed to lead a parade in less than two hours, riding some kind of alien animal that only Kerov could handle. What was she going to do? “I, uh, don’t know if I’m up to being in a parade today,” she said. “I’m really not feeling very well.” The blond man gave her an incredulous look. “You think Brigadier Tlox cares if you’re ‘feeling well’? It’s a fucking honor for your battalion to lead the review— you refuse and not only can you kiss your chance of promotion good bye, you’ll probably end up in the basement of the Ministry of Corrections before the day is through.” Frankie bit her lip. Apparently calling in sick wasn’t an option here on Kerov’s home world. Not that she’d thought it would be but she’d had to try. It wasn’t just that she was afraid to go do Kerov’s duties—she was afraid she was going to do irreparable harm to the big Kindred’s career. She’d already trashed his reputation by letting him down with Xirnah—she didn’t want to do any more damage.

Still, it looked like she had no choice but to go and do the best she could. “Just give me a chance to get ready,” she said. “I’m sure I’ll feel better after I take a shower.” “Whatever.” The man yawned. “I’m going back to sleep for at least half an arhn. Between the review in the morning and the banquet tonight, it’s going to be a long day. I need a little more rest before I face it.” “Uh, right—of course.” Frankie nodded as he left, presumably to go back to bed. Then she shook her head. Had she really just had an entire conversation with a strange man while she was completely naked? That felt really weird—almost as weird as the pee-tube thing connected to Kerov’s cock. She looked down at the tube in question and sure enough, the suction cup was still firmly attached to the end of his shaft. Would it really let go if she went ahead and relieved herself? Only one way to find out. Taking a deep breath, Frankie tried to relax and let go. Peeing as a man was strange. Even discounting the alien tube attached to the equipment between her legs, it felt wrong to go standing up. Still, somehow she managed it. To her relief, Kerov’s friend seemed to be right because the minute she finished, the suction cup finally released its hold and she was free. Frankie took a quick step back, examining Kerov’s equipment carefully to be certain it was unharmed. She breathed another sigh of relief when she saw it looked perfectly normal—well, if being hung like a Clydesdale was normal, that was. She might have ruined his relationship with his girlfriend and gotten him branded as impotent, not to mention what inadvertent harm she might do pretending to be him at the parade and the banquet but somehow she thought the only thing the big Kindred couldn’t forgive was her getting his shaft mangled. She knew how proud men were of their equipment—permanent damage there would be an unforgivable offense—one she didn’t want to have to explain when Kerov finally popped back into his body. If he popped back in. Oh dear—what if he didn’t? What if—?

Don’t start that again, Frankie told herself sternly. He’ll come back eventually. For right now I just have to do the best I can and be sure nobody knows Kerov and I switched places. She decided to take the shower she’d been wanting but there was no shower stall in the weird looking bathroom. There was, however, a silver nozzle directly above the rocking chair toilet. Frankie looked up at it—was that how you showered here? But if so, how did you make the water hotter or colder—or keep it from getting all over the place for that matter? ing how the idea to use the waste disposal pee-tube had risen to her mind, she closed her eyes and tried to search for information on showers. To her delight, she found she was able to access some of Kerov’s memories. His mind was like an orderly warehouse filled with rows and rows of filing cabinets. Some of them were easy to open—some, however, were locked tight. Frankie frowned —what was Kerov hiding in those? And was he hiding whatever it was even from himself? Why else would the drawers be locked? It didn’t seem to make sense but Frankie was just glad to get any help at all. She found a filing cabinet for personal hygiene—it was already partially cracked open, no doubt this was the one where the information about the waste disposal unit had come from. She reached in and pulled out an idea about the shower—it did indeed come from the nozzle over the toilet. And the water was preset to Kerov’s preferences. So she didn’t have to worry about that. All she had to do was sit on the rocking chair toilet and give the command. Frankie sat gingerly, feeling strange as the white chair swayed gently beneath her. What a bizarre place to have a shower—why couldn’t they separate it from the toilet? Well, whatever—she knew that other cultures had different ways of doing things. “Clean all,” she said loudly, as the memory had informed her she should. At once, a thin film of transparent material that looked like plastic wrap you might put over a sandwich descended from the ceiling and surrounded her. It was still attached to the nozzle but it covered her from head to toe, somehow sliding around every inch of Kerov’s big, male body. The only opening was under her bottom leading straight into the blue water in the bowl of the rocking chair toilet.

“Hey!” Frankie exclaimed, feeling panicked again. The information she’d found hadn’t warned her about this—it had only told her what to do in order to take Kerov’s version of a shower. She felt like she was being zipped into a body bag —how could she breathe like this? As if to answer her question, two holes suddenly formed just at her nostrils and another slit appeared at her mouth. It was a good thing they did because the next moment, a deluge of warm, soapy water began pouring down from the nozzle overhead, completely drenching her. “Hey!” Frankie gasped again as soap got in her eyes. The water was much too hot and the soap really stung! She blinked, wishing she could rub her eyes but it was impossible, encased as she was—the plastic shower bag was too tight and confining and she couldn’t get her arms up past her waist. The steaming, soapy water kept pouring over her, sluicing over her bare skin and draining into the blue water of the toilet beneath her. Frankie tried to stay calm. Well, at least now she knew why the shower nozzle was located right over the restroom facilities. The plastic barrier kept the water completely contained and the excess was literally flushed away. It made sense but it still wasn’t pleasant. Suddenly she felt something besides the water touching her. Looking down, she saw long, thin, purple tentacles writhing over her skin like snakes or worms. Frankie’s heart began to pound triple time and bile rose in her throat. Okay, screw staying calm—what the hell were these things? They seemed to be scrubbing or scraping her somehow but even if they had a legitimate function, Frankie didn’t like them. She had never been a big fan of anything creepycrawly and the purple scrubby tentacles definitely qualified. The tentacles went everywhere—twisting in Kerov’s short, no-nonsense hair, sliding up and down his long arms and legs—even twining around his shaft which made Frankie even more freaked out. What the hell was with this planet and its weird things that grabbed and touched your private areas? Were the Tarsians some kind of perverts or what? Okay, that was enough—she wanted out of this weird Saran Wrap shower now. She tried to get up but the rocking mechanism beneath her swayed alarmingly

and she nearly fell. Well fine—she was in a big, strong, male body, she would just tear her way out. It would cause a hell of a mess when soapy water sprayed all over the floor, but at this point she didn’t care. But her attempts to rip her way out failed too. The plastic wrap stuff was way stronger than it looked and she couldn’t get any purchase on its slick, soapy surface. Dios…Dios…Dios… Frankie’s breath began to come in shorter and shorter gasps until she felt lightheaded and saw black specs floating before her eyes. She was trapped in here with no hope of escape, being crawled over by a lot of slimy purple tentacles. She was stuck—she would never get out! Just as her panic was rising to a crescendo and she thought she was going to either scream or black out, the purple tentacles withdrew—sucked back up into the shower nozzle in the wink of an eye. Frankie looked up hopefully, trying to still her ragged breathing. Did that mean the shower was almost over? A huge splash of freezing cold water raining down over her face was her answer. “Ahh!” Frankie gasped and jerked, coughing to try and clear her lungs. Why the hell had the water turned cold all of a sudden? She wanted desperately to get away but of course she couldn’t. All she could do was sit there and endure the icy deluge, praying it would stop before she developed hypothermia. Her teeth were chattering and she was sure her skin was turning blue when the cold water finally stopped. In fact, all the water stopped, giving her hope that the shower was finally over. It wasn’t quite done yet, however. As Frankie looked up again, a blast of hot air hit her in the face and filled the plastic body bag that had encased her. Soon the whole thing ballooned out, no doubt looking extremely bizarre as every inch of Kerov’s big body was air dried. Only when every last drop of water was evaporated did the plastic shower bag withdraw and retract back up into the nozzle in the ceiling. As soon as she could, Frankie jumped away from the toilet and ran out of the bathroom. She sank down onto the short, tough, fibrous carpet that covered

Kerov’s bedroom floor and wrapped her arms around herself, shaking and taking deep, gasping breaths. “Dios,” she whispered raggedly. “Madre de Dios, that was awful.” Her heart was pounding like a jackhammer and she felt like she’d just been assaulted. Kerov’s version of a shower was like a combination of being waterboarded, buried alive, and groped by an octopus. It was without a doubt one of the worst things she’d ever been through. “Never again,” she swore to herself in a low voice. “I’m never, ever doing that again.” Even if she and Kerov never switched back and she was stuck here forever, she would never voluntarily go through that experience a second time. She’d take sponge baths in the kitchen sink—if there was a kitchen sink—or find some other way to bathe. But she was never, ever— “What are you doing all curled up on your sleeping chamber floor?” demanded a familiar male voice. Frankie looked up to see Kerov’s friend frowning down at her from the doorway. “Uh…” She tried to pull herself together. “I was just…I dropped something. I was looking for it.” “Well, whatever you’re doing, it’s time to get dressed,” he snapped. “We can’t be late for the review.” “I thought you were trying to get some more sleep.” Frankie straightened up, fighting the urge to cover her nakedness. Clearly the Tarsians didn’t consider nudity to be a big deal so it would look stranger for her to try and hide her body than it would to just stand there, pretending not to care. “I was but you were making so much noise in the fresher I couldn’t get a wink,” Kerov’s friend grumbled. His eyes ran over her naked body, lingering in a way that made Frankie feel distinctly nervous. “Honestly, Kerov, you weren’t so loud back when we were bunkmates in the enlisted males’ barracks. Having your own quarters has changed you.” “No it hasn’t,” Frankie said quickly, afraid he was catching on to the Switch. “No, I’m exactly the same, really. I just had…a bad night last night. That’s all.”

“Mandatory Sexual Encounter didn’t go well, huh?” The blond man gave her a sympathetic look. “You could say that.” Frankie sighed. “I don’t think Xirnah and I are, uh, going to be seeing each other anymore.” Kerov’s friend gave a low whistle of disbelief. “As bad as that, is it? That’s a shame! If you’re getting a reassignment I doubt you’ll get a female as hot as Xirnah again. She really was perfection.” “I thought she was kind of boney and skinny myself,” Frankie remarked, stung into making a personal remark about Kerov’s ex. “Really?” Kerov’s friend frowned. “I’ve never heard you say so before. I know she could be a little difficult, Xirnah was amazing—the Tarsian physical ideal.” “Yeah, well…” Frankie muttered, shrugging. She really didn’t know how to counter that, especially since it was almost certainly true. Kerov plainly liked the skinny, blonde, straight-hips-and-tiny-ass type of girl. If he had landed in her body he was probably freaking out about her childbearing hips and what a big butt she had. “Well, you’ll get someone almost as hot, I’m sure. Anyway, about today,” Kerov’s friend said, breaking into her morose thoughts. “I thought we should ride together since we have to do the review this morning and the banquet tonight. There’s no point in leaving for a few hours in the middle of the day—we might as well just stay on the base. We can have midmeal and shower there after the review—catch some rest in the barracks before the banquet. What do you say?” “Well, sure, I guess,” Frankie said cautiously, although she was privately determined not to take a shower on the base, wherever that was, or anyplace else on this benighted planet. “Good. Since my vehicle is already here, I’ll drive. And I’ll drop you off after the banquet tonight unless you want to go celebrate at one of the brothels?” He raised white blond eyebrows at her. “Uh…I don’t know,” Frankie hedged. She really didn’t want to try having sex

with another woman in Kerov’s body again. It was weird and off-putting and made her feel dirty. But was this something that Kerov did regularly? Would it look out of place for her to refuse? “It sounds nice, I’m just…not sure I’ll be up for it,” she said, hoping he would accept her answer without suspicion. The blond man frowned. “All right—I know that means ‘no.’” He sighed and shrugged. “I don’t know why you never want to come with me to the brothels but suit yourself. Just hurry up and get dressed and don’t forget to bring your dress uniform for tonight.” As he turned away, Frankie breathed a little sigh of relief. Even knowing that she wasn’t Kerov’s ideal woman, she was still glad to find out he didn’t go out to whorehouses. It would have made her like him less—a lot less, actually. Not that it mattered how she felt about him—it wasn’t like he was the love of her life or anything—he was just some guy she’d accidentally switched bodies with. She just had to get through the day pretending to be him and hope nobody saw through her façade. But, oh, how she wished they could switch back! “Please,” she prayed. “I don’t know what I did to deserve this but whatever it was, I’m sorry—so sorry! Please let Kerov and I switch back to our own bodies before I have to do anything crazy while I’m pretending to be him. Please!” For a moment Frankie got a strange feeling that her prayers were being heard but they were not answered. She was still here—still in the big, muscular male body instead of her own much smaller female one. Still trapped on this strange planet, hundreds of millions of light years from her home on Earth. Apparently she was stuck in Kerov’s body and there was nothing to do now but get dressed for the parade and hope everything went all right.

Eight

“No, no, no—what’s going on with you today, Frankie? Where is your flow?” The woman called Sheila, who was apparently the owner of The Lotus Pond, was frowning at Kerov in a disapproving manner. She was tall and thin with thick gray hair pinned in a messy bun at the top of her head. Wisps of silverygray framed her angular features and wide, faded blue eyes stared at him myopically. She was dressed, rather whimsically, in tight tros, covered in rainbows and animals that a quick search of Frankie’s memories named “cats” which hugged her boney body closely. “I am not sure what you are talking about,” Kerov said stiffly. “I am performing every pose that you asked me to show you correctly—am I not?” It was true, he had been ransacking Frankie’s mind frantically for the last half an arhn—half an hour in Frankie’s world—and finding each pose as Sheila requested it. Though some of them seemed impossibly strange, Kerov found the body he was currently inhabiting was amazingly flexible and much stronger than it looked. It gave him greater respect for Frankie, realizing that she was able to pull off all of these bizarre poses. Kerov still didn’t understand why anyone would want to train their bodies to undergo such contortions but clearly it was important to his host and so he had tried to honor her training and knowledge. He’d thought he was doing a fairly good job of it too—well, except for falling over during scorpion pose—until Sheila had called a halt to the process. “I don’t understand,” Kerov said again, frowning at the woman. “What more do you want of me?” “I want to see your spirit—your flow.” Sheila made broad, looping motions in the air with her arms, waving gracefully like a tree in the wind. “You always bring such a positive energy to any class—that’s one reason I wanted to mentor you and let you teach here. But I’m not sensing any of that today. In fact…” “Yes?” Kerov demanded when she paused, frowning. “In fact, you almost seem like a completely different person.”

“No I’m not,” Kerov felt a jolt of panic—no one must guess about the Switch! “How could I be? I am the same Frankie you have always known,” he stressed, willing her to believe it. Sheila frowned. “That may be but your practice is most definitely off today, my dear. It’s like you’re doing the positions I ask for by copying a picture in a book. Your motions are jerky and uncertain—not graceful and flowing. And the look on your face…well, it’s more grim determination than peaceful harmony.” “I am doing the best that I can,” Kerov said levelly. “I know that I fell over when you asked me to do the slurpean pose—” “The scorpion pose.” “Yes, that.” Kerov waved a hand dismissively. “But in all fairness, it’s difficult to balance on one’s forearms while bringing one’s feet up and over one’s head.” In fact that pose, along with some of the other inversions, headstands and handstands she’d asked him to do, had been extremely challenging. But Kerov had managed to get them right—he’d thought so, anyway until she made him stop. “I wouldn’t care if you fell over fifty times as long as your energy was right,” Sheila said, still frowning. “But it’s all wrong somehow. I can’t put my finger on it but you’re just not centered today. Your energy is all over the place. It’s—” “I can be extremely energetic,” Kerov interrupted her. To demonstrate, he dug through Frankie’s mind, searching for a difficult pose Sheila hadn’t asked for yet. Firefly pose—I can do that! “Watch this,” he told her. Balancing on his hands, he leaned forward until he was ing all of Frankie’s body weight that way. Then he slowly brought his legs forward and tried to extend them straight out on either side of his head. Unfortunately, this was a pose that Frankie’s body apparently had trouble with. Kerov found himself overbalancing and before he could stop himself, he fell heavily to the floor, flat on his face, with a bruising thud. Ouch! He jumped up quickly and dusted himself off, rubbing his forehead where he was pretty sure a knot was already forming.

“Let me try that again—I know I can get it right,” he told Sheila. “Getting it right isn’t what yoga is all about,” Sheila said, frowning. “It’s not? Kerov shook his head. What could this strange practice of contorting one’s body into different shapes be about then? “I’m not sure what you want of me,” he said truthfully. “Let me ask you this—I’ve told you that if I hire you, you’ll be teaching some of the beginner’s classes,” Sheila said. “What if you have a student who comes to class but spends the entire time in child’s pose?” Kerov knew what that meant—child’s pose was a resting pose—a position one went into to relax. He didn’t like it himself—it felt strangely subservient to crouch down and put his forehead to the floor while lifting his ass in the air but Frankie’s store of information told him it was part of the practice. “So this student would pay to come to class and yet spend all of it in a resting pose with her face to the floor and her posterior raised?” he demanded. “Exactly. Here she is—resting in child’s pose.” Sheila motioned to a nearby mat as though the hypothetical student was right there. “What would you say to her, this sweet child of the universe?” Kerov lifted his chin—finally a question he could answer! He was used to dealing with soldiers and had extensive knowledge of how to motivate people to action. “On your feet,” he barked, glaring at the imaginary student. “You paid good credit—er, money—to come to class today. Don’t waste my time or yours lazing around on the floor with your ass in the air. Get up and work.” “No, no, no!” Sheila fluttered her hands in agitation, her eyes wide and horrified. “You can’t say that to students and you certainly can’t shout at them.” Kerov frowned. “I only raised my voice for emphasis. Believe me, if I spoke so to one of your students they would certainly get up and get moving.” “Moving right out the door, you mean,” Sheila said, crossing her arms over her chest. “Everyone’s yoga practice is different, just like everyone’s life is different.

You don’t know what happened to that student to make her stay in child’s pose. She might have had a bad day at work or maybe she pulled a muscle but she wanted to come to class anyway just for the healing energy.” “The healing energy?” Kerov looked at her in disbelief. What kind of a crazy talk was Frankie’s teacher spouting? How could energy heal anyone? “She might have just wanted to commune with the universe.” Sheila’s myopic blue eyes were focused inwards now, a look of dreamy concentration on her face. Seemingly unconsciously, she began making the looping, flowing motions with her arms again, humming softly to herself. Kerov frowned at the strange display. “I am sorry but I fail to see how kneeling with one’s forehead to the floor and one’s posterior raised high will allow communication with the Space-Time Continuum.” Sheila sighed, the dreamy look leaving her face. “I think we’re going to have to call this off.” “What? The test is over?” Kerov began to panic—he had never done so poorly on an examination in his life! And it wasn’t his life he was ruining— Frankie would be furious when she came back to her own body. He might not like her views on the Kindred but strangely, he still valued her good opinion. And it was a point of honor not to screw up her life while he was running it. “Are you saying I failed?” he demanded. “I don’t like to apply labels like ‘’ and ‘fail’ to this experience but I’m afraid I just don’t see you as a good fit for a position at The Lotus Pond,” Sheila said. “But Frankie—I mean, I have to get this job,” Kerov protested. “It’s the only way she—I—can stop working at the Secret of Victoria selling demeaning and overpriced undergarments to females all day!” He had gotten all this from Frankie’s store of information and her memories, though he didn’t completely understand it. “I know you’re not happy in your other job, my dear—I can sense it when you talk about it,” Sheila said serenely. “But I cannot allow someone who does not exude positive energy to taint The Lotus Pond.”

Kerov held on to his temper grimly. “I did every pose you asked me to perform,” he growled. “I have contorted my body into the most ridiculous and undignified postures to please you. And now you speak of me ‘tainting your pond.’ This is outrageous.” Sheila frowned. “Perhaps you should just go, dear.” “Fine.” Kerov rose stiffly from the mat she had spread on the floor for him. “I will take my leave.” “I hope you’ll still practice with us, when you’re feeling more yourself.” Sheila cocked her head to one side. “You know, usually you bring such peace and grace with you, Frankie, but today you’re off. Your energy, it’s warlike…belligerent. Almost…almost masculine.” Kerov took a deep breath, trying to control his anxiety. This strange woman who seemed so mystical and impractical could somehow sense that he was a male trapped in a female’s body. And it was the second time she had made a remark about Frankie seeming like a different person today. His best bet now was to get away—far away. “I am sorry I couldn’t please you,” he said, making a short, stiff bow. “I hope you may grant me another chance to prove my worth at a different time.” A time after Frankie had come back to her own body, hopefully. “I don’t know…I’d have to think about it,” Sheila said. “I can tell you’re having an off day.” “That is an understatement,” Kerov said. He made a short, stiff bow and retreated silently before Frankie’s teacher could make any more uncomfortably astute observations. As he left the Lotus Pond, he shook his head. Frankie was not going to be pleased when she heard about this! And he’d been so sure he could do better at living her life than she was at living his—he hadn’t actually said it to her but it had been his secret belief, especially after she had ruined things with Xirnah. He had been thinking to himself that he would never foul up her existence the way she had fouled up his. Clearly he had been wrong.

He only hoped she was doing a better job fulfilling his duties and responsibilities than he was fulfilling hers.

“Now which one is mine?” Frankie muttered. She was in the stables, looking for Kerov’s mount, Ursa, but so far she wasn’t having any luck. It wasn’t a good start to her take-over of Kerov’s job but then, the whole day was going crappy so far. It wasn’t just the crazy pee-tube and water-boarding shower that had made Frankie feel grumpy. The commute from Kerov’s home to what she assumed was a military base had been a nightmare. She had at least been grateful that she wasn’t driving. The crazy traffic patterns made no sense, with people on a mixture of animals and vehicles crowding the vast, noisy streets in unending lines that seemed to stop and start according to rules Frankie couldn’t understand at all. There were no traffic lights that she could see—people just seemed to know when to go and when to put on the brakes. Kerov’s friend had navigated the traffic with ease in the vast vehicle they were riding in, which was sort of like a silver tank with huge, puffy wheels that looked like they were made of balloons. Frankie wondered how they didn’t get popped —maybe they were stronger than they looked. Between the wheels and the tank vehicle itself, they were elevated high above most of the other motorists and she was able to look down at the crazy traffic from a position of relative comfort. The huge tank-like vehicle made Frankie think that Kerov’s friend might be compensating for something. Were men as worried about the size of their dicks here as they were back on Earth? She didn’t know but she guessed if he’d ever seen the monster Kerov was packing between his thighs, he would have reason to feel insecure. Unless everyone here was hung like a horse but she doubted it. From stories she’d heard, she had an idea Kerov’s extra large endowment might have to do with his Kindred heritage. On the way to the base, they had stopped for breakfast in the Tarsian version of a fast food restaurant. “You want your regular, right?” Kerov’s friend had asked while ordering, raising one eyebrow at her. “Oh, um…” Frankie suddenly realized she had no idea what they used for money here but she was pretty sure she didn’t have any on her. “I, uh, seem to have forgotten my wallet—I mean, my credit pouch,” she said quickly, the word

rising to her from the depths of Kerov’s brain. “No worries—I’ll cover you this time. You can buy next time,” Kerov’s friend said easily. “So—your usual?” Frankie’s stomach had growled—Kerov’s body was big and it needed fuel. She nodded eagerly. “Yes, thanks!” “No problem.” His friend seemed to be in a better mood now which was good. As long as he was relaxed enough to be friendly and happy, it was a sure bet he wasn’t suspicious that she wasn’t really Kerov. The drive thru window was so far below them that Kerov’s friend pulled out a silver extendable stick with a hook on one end and used it to hand down the currency and also to pull the food back up to the window. Luckily, the restaurant staff seemed used to this and they wrapped everything tightly so nothing was spilled. After paying and pulling the bag of food and beverages up on the long silver hook, he handed it to Frankie. “Go ahead, hand me mine, will you?” “Okay.” Frankie had opened the bag and dug into it. There were two hot drinks in orange squeeze bulbs with long spouts that made her think of the orange juice containers she’d gotten at Disney World as a kid. Well, her cousin had gotten one and given it to her anyway—her family had always had too many mouths to feed to take an expensive vacation. But still, the childhood nostalgia made her smile. She put the two orange bulbs carefully in the drink holders clearly meant for that purpose between the seats. Then she dug into the bag again and came up with two wrapped packages. They were about the size of fast food burgers back home but one was steaming hot and the other was ice cold. Both were wrapped in what looked like large, blue leaves and tied with coarse twine. Frankie wasn’t sure which was supposed to be hers but she took a chance and opened the hot one. Inside was a gooey, purple pastry looking thing that smelled divine. Mmmm…Frankie inhaled the sweet steam, smelling exotic spices that reminded

her a little of cinnamon or maybe cardamom. Whatever it was, it smelled amazing. She was about to sink her teeth into the delicious looking purple thing when Kerov’s friend looked over and frowned. “Hey—that one’s mine!” “Oh, uh sorry.” Regretfully, Frankie handed it over. “They were wrapped just the same so I thought—” “Nice try.” Kerov’s friend smirked at her. “But you have to get up at least an arhn earlier than a winkle-bum to fool old Jorn here.” Jorn—that must be his name, Frankie thought. Well, at least now she could stop thinking of him as just “Kerov’s friend.” As for a winkle-bum, she had no idea what that was, but what Jorn had said seemed to be some kind of aphorism or expression. “Um, okay,” she said, hoping that would suffice. “I mean, if you wanted a kadeky, you should have ordered one,” Jorn went on, taking a big bite from the divine smelling pastry. “But no—you’re always lecturing me about what an unhealthy breakfast it is. Always going on and on about the benefits of a pure-protein diet, especially in the mornings.” “I am? I mean, yes, of course I am. Because it’s, uh, true,” Frankie said quickly but she had a sinking feeling in the pit of her empty stomach. Looking down at the ice cold, squishy, leaf-wrapped package in her lap, she had a bad feeling. An all protein diet didn’t sound like it would jibe with her own vegetarian ways. Still, Jorn had bought this thing for her—whatever it was—and he clearly expected her to eat it. As the silver tank vehicle lurched back into traffic, she untied the coarse twine and unwrapped the leaves. Inside was a piece of meat as big as her fist—as big as Kerov’s fist, anyway and his hands were freaking huge. It was a very dark green—pine green—and it seemed to be completely raw. Or if it was cooked, it must have been only lightly seared because it was still oozing dark green blood. The nauseating, coppery odor of raw flesh rose from it, reminding Frankie of an open wound. Ugh! Frankie barely kept herself from uttering the exclamation of disgust aloud

and her stomach lurched, making her glad she hadn’t eaten anything that day. “What’s wrong?” Jorn asked, frowning. “Not hungry? Did they cut it wrong? I know how you like the center piece, right from the middle ventricle of the vashlo heart.” “Oh no, it’s…it’s just how I like it.” Frankie swallowed hard and started rewrapping the oozing green chunk. She hadn’t eaten meat in two years and she wasn’t about to start now with the raw, pine-green alien flesh. However, she didn’t want to be rude. “I just want to save it for later. I’ll, uh, eat it right before the parade—the review, I mean. That way I’ll have extra energy,” she said, hoping Kerov’s friend would buy her lame explanation. Jorn shrugged his narrow shoulders. “Suit yourself. I can see why you’d need extra energy to control that behemoth, Ursa.” “Uh-huh,” Frankie mumbled and shoved the squishy packet of meat in its blue leaf wrapping into the breast pocket of Kerov’s scarlet shirt. She hoped it wouldn’t leak and leave a stain but if it did, she was pretty sure his dress jacket, which was hanging in the back of the tank on a surprisingly Earth-like hanger, would cover it. They had ridden the rest of the way to the base in the awful traffic as Jorn polished off the tasty-looking kadeky pastry. He had also drunk his entire squeeze bulb of hot liquid which was apparently called guu. Hoping it would taste like coffee or tea, Frankie had tried a sip of hers as well. Unfortunately, the guu had an extremely bitter, burned flavor and a slimy, viscous texture that reminded her of mucus. The single sip she took singed her mouth and coated her throat, making her cough uncontrollably for several minutes. Jorn had pounded her on the back sympathetically which didn’t help at all. In fact, his vigorous pounding hurt and Frankie was pretty sure she was going to have bruises but she couldn’t think of a way to ask him to stop that wouldn’t sound unmanly. So she had put up with it until Jorn dropped her in front of the stables, saying he would see her after the review.

Now, bruised and battered, with an empty stomach and the bitter, burned taste of guu still coating the back of her tongue, she was standing just inside the long, low building. It was lined with rows of stalls on either side and Frankie wondered exactly where the fearsome Ursa was. Several heads were poking out of the stalls, but none of them seemed to ring a bell. Or at least, no information about them was forthcoming from Kerov’s memory. She looked at the row of stalls uncertainly, trying to gage the temperament of the strange creatures they housed. They looked like the same mechanical ostrichtype creatures she’d seen on the strange porn-vid with the rainbow, lasso-penis teddy bear at Kerov’s house. Only the more she looked at them, the less ostrich-y they appeared. She considered the one closest to her, which was eyeing her with apparent curiosity. True, it had skinny legs, a long, snaky neck, and a short, plump body like an ostrich, but it appeared to have fur covering its metal skin instead of feathers and its head looked strangely feline. Two large, yellow eyes regarded her, but the creature had a flattened snout almost like a Persian cat’s instead of a beak. Long curling whiskers spread from either side of its little pink nose. They quivered delicately when Frankie held out a hand to it. “Hey girl…or, uh, boy,” she said softly. “How are you, huh? Feeling friendly today?” “Excuse me, Commander, but I wouldn’t do that if I were you. Junie-bee there’s a bitey one, she is.” The soft voice startled Frankie and she jerked her hand back just as the ostrich-cat thing took a quick snap at her, barely missing her fingers. “Thank you!” Frankie gasped and looked around for the person who had warned her. It was a girl with a pretty, pleasant face wearing a blue denim-looking overall with a red sash wrapped around her narrow waist. Just like Xirnah, and indeed, most of the women Frankie had seen here, she had platinum blonde hair and purplish black eyes. And also like Xirnah, she had straight hips and almost no ass. However, the warm look on her face made her seem much prettier to Frankie, though her features weren’t nearly as fine and aristocratic as Kerov’s ex. “Might you be in here looking for Ursa, Commander Volx?” the girl asked.

Volx, huh? That must be Kerov’s last name. It was strange to think she was inhabiting his body but she hadn’t known his last name until just now. “Yes, in fact I am looking for, uh, Ursa. Can you help me find her? I’d really appreciate it.” Frankie smiled warmly at her and the girl returned the smile and then blushed a pale pink. “Of…of course, Commander. Anything for you,” she stuttered. Frankie couldn’t figure her reaction out until she ed she was still in Kerov’s mouthwateringly muscular male body. Frankie would probably be stuttering and blushing all over the place too if a hot guy like the big Kindred started talking to her. She thinks I’m flirting with her, she thought, following the girl down the rows of stalls. Well, maybe I should. She seems a lot nicer than Xirnah—maybe I could find Kerov a nice girlfriend to come back to—when he finally comes back to his own body, that is. But the thought of setting Kerov up with the stable girl didn’t sit right with her. Frankie couldn’t put her finger on why exactly, just that she didn’t like the idea of him with another girl. Especially not one who was pretty and nice. Xirnah might have been beautiful but she was also a grade-A bitch. The stable girl seemed like the girl next door type—the kind a guy might really fall in love with. Shouldn’t I want that for him, though? He seems like a decent guy—shouldn’t I want him to find true love? Frankie knew she should but somehow she just didn’t. If I set him up with the stable girl and he never comes back, I’ll be the one who has to date her…and have sex her, she reminded herself. And she just wasn’t up for any more girl-in-guy-on-girl sex right now—she had plenty of it with Xirnah last night, thank you very much. Feeling justified, she followed the girl in the red sash silently over the strawstrewn floor—the straw was dark purple here, she noticed—and didn’t say another word until they were standing in front of a stall door which was taller and thicker than the rest. It was reinforced with thick strips of metal too, which made Frankie wonder uneasily what in the world the ostrich-cat Kerov usually rode looked like. Was it bigger and stronger and meaner than all the others in the stable? God, she hoped not! She thought about trying to access Kerov’s files

about his mount but the stable girl was already opening the stall door. “All right—here she is.” The girl slid back a bolt as thick as Frankie’s wrist, and cracked open the reinforced stall door. “You’ll forgive me for not getting her ready for you, Commander. Seeing as how you’re the only one as can handle her.” “Oh, sure. Uh…of course.” Frankie felt another stab of apprehension. What in the world was the deal with this creature Kerov rode? “I’ll just wait out here. She doesn’t care for me much, so she doesn’t.” The stable girl stood to one side, beckoning for Frankie to go into the darkened stall. Frankie swallowed hard. This was getting scarier and scarier. Still, the girl was looking at her expectantly and she knew she had to ride this beast in the parade in less than an hour. I already screwed up Kerov’s love life—I can’t screw up his job too, she told herself. Taking a deep breath, she lifted her chin and walked into the dim stall though it was the absolute last thing she wanted to do. Inside she could barely make out the occupant of the stall…or rather, occupants. Lying on the purple straw-strewn floor were several little furry bundles in various pastel shades. Most of them were curled up against an even larger mound of dark purple straw in the corner. Frankie frowned, her eyes adjusting to the light—what were they? As she bent closer to look at them, one cotton candy-pink bundle lifted a long, pointed snout and looked up at her with inquisitive green eyes. “Well, hello there,” Frankie said to it gently. “What are you doing in here, little guy?” The pink bundle made a soft, high pitched sound somewhere between a bark and a cough and unrolled itself to get a better look at her. It was furry and cute and about the size of a large cat. Aside from the bright green eyes, which seemed to glow in the dark, it reminded Frankie of a bear cub. Then it turned around and she saw that it had a long, trailing tail that seemed to be made of feathers. In fact, its coat seemed to be feathers too, when she took a closer look. Short, downy ones that looked just like fur until you examined them closely.

The pink bear cub-thing made its squeaky barking cough again and nudged her hand. “Oh, you want some scratches?” Frankie cooed, stroking its head gently. “You want some scritchy-scratches? Is that what you want little fella?” In answer the little creature bumped her hand again and closed its green eyes in apparent ecstasy when she rubbed behind its short, stubby pink ears. “That’s right, little guy…little niño,” Frankie murmured, stroking its fat little body. “Aren’t you just the cutest thing? Que lindo!” The little creature seemed to appreciate her attention because it began to make a humming-purring sound that vibrated her fingertips when she stroked it. The sound woke up the other pastel creatures sleeping against the big mound of purple straw and they tumbled over to investigate. “Oh my—look at all of you!” Frankie was soon busy stroking and scratching all of the little feathery, pastel, bear cub creatures. In addition to the cotton candypink one there was a mint green one, a sky blue one, and one that was a pale, gorgeous shade of lavender. Soon the air was filled with their hums of pleasure as they all vied for her attention. “All right—don’t shove, I only have two hands but I’ll get to you all,” Frankie laughed as she knelt in the straw and caressed the plump little bodies. Dios, they were as cute as a basket of puppies and so cuddly she wanted to just lie down and let them jump all over her. The humming sound they made was loud too. In fact, if she wasn’t mistaken, it was getting louder the longer she stroked them. Suddenly the humming rose to an almost deafening crescendo and something moved right in front of her. Frankie looked up from the tumbling bear cubs and felt her heart knot like a fist in her chest. The purple mound of hay wasn’t a purple mound of hay at all—it was a huge creature that must be the adult version of the little cubs. Blazing green eyes stared into Frankie’s and a low grumbling growl was coming from the thing’s massive chest. Ursa—this must be Ursa! Frankie’s mouth was dry as a bone and her heart seemed to have forgotten how to beat. She’d gotten so caught up in petting and

stroking the little cubs, she’d forgotten the reason she had entered the stall in the first place. Ursa wasn’t just Kerov’s mount—she was also a mother—a mama bear if the cubs were anything to go on. Frankie’s mind raced back to all the awful bear attack stories she’d ever heard or read about. People who went camping and got mauled and had their faces ripped off and their limbs torn from their bodies… Dios de Madre—she caught me playing with her cubs and now she’s going to kill me. I’m going to die right here on this alien planet and then I’ll never get home! Or would she? Part of her wondered distractedly what would happen to her if she died while inhabiting the big Kindred’s body. Would she go flying back to her own body…or would her spirit be lost, never able to find Earth again? Either way, Frankie was afraid she was about to find out.

“Come on, cheer up,” Lacy said when he had come out of the Lotus Pond and stiffly itted his defeat. “You know how Sheila is—she’s a little goofy but she’s basically got a good heart. She’ll give you another chance.” “Do you think so?” Kerov looked at her hopefully. He hated the idea that, through his ineptitude, he might have ruined Frankie’s chances at bettering her life and getting a job she really desired. “Yes, I do,” Lacy said firmly. “So come on—we have an hour before your Brazilian appointment at Wax Me Beautiful. How about if I buy you lunch to cheer you up?” A Brazilian appointment? Was that some kind of medical exam? Kerov didn’t know but he eagerly agreed to lunch. He hadn’t had time to eat that morning and he found himself suddenly ravenously hungry. What he wouldn’t give for a good, protein packed chunk of vashlo heart! The oozing green delicacy was his favorite first meal back home. He wondered if there was anything like it on Earth. “I’ll drive this time,” Lacy said, smiling a little nervously, he thought. “And we’re going to your favorite restaurant—Veggie-ville on Fletcher.” “My favorite,” Kerov agreed, hoping the food would be good. But when they got to the small eatery with sunny yellow walls and roomy booths arranged around the perimeter of the room, he found himself severely disappointed. Lacy ordered what was apparently Frankie’s favorite dish, and the server brought it and set the plate down in front him with a flourish. Kerov was all set to dig in…but the contents of the dish made him stop and consider carefully what he was about to put in his mouth. “What is this?” he’d asked, poking the contents of the plate with a utensil Frankie’s memory informed him was a fork. “What you always get.” Lacy frowned. “Organic raw kale crackers, avocados coated in almonds, sun dried tomato strips, and organic salad with ginger sauce. Oh—and here’s your beet juice smoothie,” she added as the server placed an unappetizing looking reddish-purple beverage in front of him.

Kerov didn’t think any if it looked remotely appetizing but his stomach growled again and he realized he needed to eat something to fuel Frankie’s body, which had just been through a vigorous workout. He still felt sore from all the strange poses he’d been forced to perform! Such physical work was taxing and anyway, maybe the food would taste better than it looked. Only, it didn’t. Kerov stabbed one of the red strips and put it in his mouth. It had a strangely sharp flavor and a leathery texture he found difficult to chew. Swallowing quickly, he tried something else—one of the thin, crispy, dark green wafers. These tasted like nothing but sawdust to Kerov, leaving a dry, disagreeable residue on his tongue. The salad with ginger sauce was a little better, although it crunched oddly between his teeth. He’d been saving the thick green chunks which Lacy had called the “avocado coated in almond” for last, hoping it might taste a little like vashlo heart. It was, after all, green. But when he stabbed one and forked it into his mouth, he nearly spit it out again. A slick, slimy texture met his tongue and squished between his teeth, making him feel he was in danger of gagging. Seven Hells, how could anyone live on such fare? Hoping to wash the taste out of his mouth, he grabbed for the purplish-red smoothie and took a big swig. His mouth filled with a strange taste that reminded him of oddly tangy dirt. Only by sheer force of will did he manage not to spit it out. Somehow he swallowed, his eyes watering from sheer disgust. The food on this planet was horrible! At that point he became aware that Lacy was staring at him oddly. “Frankie? Are you okay?” He spoke without thinking. “Frankie eats this on a regular basis?” he demanded, stabbing at the plate with his fork. “Voluntarily?” Lacy arched one perfect blond eyebrow at him as she stirred her own meal, which appeared to be basically a bowl of leafy greens, such as an animal might eat on his own planet. “Speaking of ourselves in the third person, now are we? Yes, your majesty, you

do eat that on a regular basis—in fact, you love it. What’s the matter—you’re not feeling it today?” “No,” Kerov said shortly. “I’m not.” Looking up, he signaled to the server who came over at once. “Is something the matter?” “Yes, I do not like this food.” Kerov nodded down at his plate. “I desire something more nourishing.” “More nourishing?” The server knit her eyebrows in apparent confusion. “But this is as nourishing as you can get. It’s all natural, organic, raw, GMO and gluten free and completely Vegan.” “I do not care about any of that,” Kerov insisted. “Do you not have anything with protein in it?” “Well, technically the nuts on your veggie surprise platter have protein but we do have smoked Tofurky—” “And is that protein?” Kerov demanded. “Well, yes…” The girl’s hesitance made him doubt her. “Let me be specific,” he said, leaning forward and pointing at her with his fork. “Is it the actual flesh of an animal which has been butchered for the express purpose of being consumed?” “What?” The girl had drawn back in apparent horror. “The flesh of an animal? What are you talking about?” “Yes, what are you talking about?” Lacy asked, frowning. “You know there’s no meat here. Veggie-ville is completely vegetarian—that’s one reason you like it.” Kerov wanted to growl in frustration. A restaurant which did not offer meat? What was wrong with this planet? Did they have nothing decent to eat? He turned to the server to ask another question but Lacy was already speaking. “Never mind Frankie, she’s making a joke,” she said, smiling brightly at the

confused girl. “All right, but…should I bring the Tofurky or not? We have it barbequed too, not just smoked.” “Oh, that sounds yummy. Yes, bring us some of that, please,” Lacy said. As soon as the girl left, she turned to Kerov, frowning fiercely. “All right, I know you’re feeling bummed that you failed your yoga test but what is up with you today? You’re not acting like yourself at all.” Kerov suddenly realized what a very poor job he was doing of impersonating Frankie. Though he knew he was in her body, he kept forgetting to act like it. He’d been angry with her the night before for doing such a bad job playing him when she was occupying his body—clearly, though, he wasn’t any better at it than she had been. “I am sorry,” he mumbled, looking down at his barely touched plate. “I don’t… feel very well.” “Ha—nice try.” Lacy pointed her fork at him. “You’re just trying to get out of your waxing appointment, aren’t you? Well, forget it sister—you’re going. That way you’ll be ready for your hot date with Professor Ramlow tonight.” Kerov frowned. “Hot date?” “Oh, come on.” Lacy pressed his arm and sighed. “I know you said it’s not a date but you and I both know he’s not coming over to your apartment tonight with Thai food and a bottle of wine just to talk about you being his new TA.” She grinned at winked at Kerov. “And think how good you’re going to feel, all silky smooth down there—hot and ready for action.” “Um, I guess so,” Kerov agreed, though he had no idea what he was agreeing too. Inwardly, he told himself that he had to do a better job of pretending to be Frankie. When the server came back with a platter of chewy strips coated in a spicy-sweet sauce, he ate them meekly with no comment. Though they weren’t animal flesh, they were marginally better than the horribly slimy avocados and he found that they gave him energy.

Energy he feared he was going to need to get through the rest of Frankie’s day.

“It’s okay, mama,” Frankie whispered in a shaky voice as the huge purple bear creature reared above her, growling. “It’s all right—you know I don’t want to hurt your babies. Look, I’ll just leave them alone and go, all right?” But when she tried to back away from the cubs, they followed her, nudging her with their blunt little snouts, begging for more pets and scratches. Ursa’s rumbling growl grew louder and she bared teeth as long as Frankie’s fingers. “Dios, you naughty cubs—get! Get back now—back to your mama!” Frankie begged in a low voice but the pastel babies were completely in love with her and wouldn’t leave her alone. She looked over her shoulder, trying to gauge the distance to the door. Could she get out before the massive purple bear-thing charged? Would she make it before it tore her head off? Frankie was afraid she wouldn’t. Well then, what could she do? Take it easy, she told herself. Don’t make any sudden moves—just hold still a minute and maybe the cubs will lose interest and go away. It was her only hope. Freezing in place, she prayed the pastel cubs would get bored of her as fast as possible and go back to Ursa. As she stood there, frozen, the pale lavender cub ran over the toe of Kerov’s big black boot. At once, a memory rose from the depths of the Kindred’s mind—it was another cub, the same pale lavender shade and Kerov was holding it in his arms. Frankie watched in her mind’s eye as he cuddled and fed it, raising it from a cub to the monster she saw before her now. And then she saw him feeding Ursa something —a treat that was saved only for special occasions. Something she craved that he only gave to her when she was very, very good… The memory gave her an idea. “Hey Ursa, hey girl,” Frankie whispered through numb lips. Reaching up slowly, she dug the squishy packet of raw meat out of Kerov’s breast pocket. Praying this would work, she unwrapped it from the blue leaves and held it out with one shaking hand to the huge creature. At once, Ursa stopped growling and sniffed the air. She lumbered a little closer,

her sensitive black snout wrinkling with interest as she inhaled the scent of the oozing, pine-green chunk of flesh. “That’s right, girl,” Frankie whispered, encouraged. “This is your favorite, right? You only get it when you’ve been a very, very good girl. So come on, take a nibble.” She tried to hold the meat out flat on her palm and hoped like hell the massive Ursa didn’t decide to bite off her hand along with the meat. Luckily, there was no biting involved. The huge beast simply extended a long, flexible black tongue and swiped the meat from Frankie’s palm that way. Then she chewed it slowly, as though savoring the taste, while making little grunts of pleasure. “There you go—good girl,” Frankie murmured. Now was probably the best time to get out of here, while Ursa was still distracted with her treat. But she had to ride this animal in less than an hour—had to lead a parade on it! Now is not the time to chicken out, Frankie, she told herself sternly. Let’s see if we can work this out somehow. She was trying to decide on the best way to approach the big purple bear creature when Ursa approached her instead. With an affectionate grunt, she pressed her massive head to Frankie’s chest and nudged, clearly asking for attention in the same way the cubs had. Tentatively, barely daring to breathe, Frankie lifted her hand and scratched behind one stubby purple ear. Ursa made more grunts of pleasure and rubbed against her so strongly Frankie had to brace her legs wide apart to keep from getting knocked over. So this is Kerov’s secret—he raised her from a cub, she thought, still scratching industriously, as that seemed to make the huge creature happy. Now that she was feeling calmer, she was able to find and access his memories from the filing cabinet marked Ursa. Apparently, Kerov tried to visit the big animal at least every other day and had even been there at the birth of her cubs. The other officers and enlisted men looked at him in awe for having tamed a huge wild beast but to him, Ursa was still the little purple cub he’d saved after the death of her mother and raised by hand.

It gave Frankie a whole new perspective on the big Kindred whose body she was inhabiting. Who knew he was an animal lover? And fearless enough to have tamed the Tarsian equivalent of a grizzly bear, too! He was brave as well as handsome—too bad women like Xirnah were his ideal. Frankie was the exact opposite of the tall, skinny blonde. Short, curvy and dark would never turn his head. Still, they had shared a very erotic moment together when she was touching him the night before… Then she realized what she was thinking and made herself stop. As if he would be interested in you. And even if he was, what would be the point? We don’t even live in the same galaxy—talk about a long distance relationship! No, all she wanted from Kerov right now was for him to come back to his own body so she could go back home to hers. But since that didn’t seem to be happening, she had better get ready to ride Ursa in the parade…

Nine

In the heart of Zlicth, the abandoned home world of the Scourge, a transformation was taking place. In a vast room with walls of pulsing red a single figure stood, cocooned in a bubble of nourishing blood. When the dravik had first formed around him, the figure—a tall male of Kindred size with the broad shoulders and heavy musculature of their race—had had thick black hair and dark eyes. Things had changed. As the Souda—the chamber of transformation and empowerment—did its work, the thick, black hair fell out to scatter like macabre confetti on the red floor around him. And the eyes, once so deep and dark were changing…lightening. A change was taking place in the features as well. They were mutating, molding themselves to meet a standard that had been preprogrammed into the Souda before the figure had entered. Soon all would be complete. Already a sparse stubble of light blond hair was sprouting on the finely molded skull and the face was almost finished—the bones molding into another configuration that would be recognizable to anyone aboard the Kindred Mother Ship. The process was, of course, extremely painful but the one being thus transformed didn’t mind. He had another with him—the original owner of the body which he had hijacked for his own purposes. It was easy enough to shunt the unbearable physical pain of transformation off to the body’s original owner — easy enough to ignore the agony being borne by another. And so Two, the Dark Kindred overlord, amused himself with plotting what evil he would do once his transformation was complete while Y, his hapless scion drowned in silent screams…

“No—no!” Kate came suddenly awake, her heart racing and her palms sweaty. A sense of dread so strong it was suffocating hung around her like a heavy curtain, making it hard to breathe. “Kate? Lalli?” Rone’s deep voice in the darkness startled her but then Kate turned towards her mate instinctively, seeking comfort. He took her into his arms at once, cradling her against his massive chest and stroking her hair as tenderly as though she was a child. “It’s all right…all right now, baby,” he murmured, cuddling her to him. “Was it the dream again? The male standing in the middle of the bubble of blood?” “Y-yes…” Kate’s teeth were chattering as she pressed close against him. She’d been having these nightmares for weeks now—ever since they’d moved from their own ship, The Finder, onto the Kindred Mother Ship. They weren’t exactly Knowing dreams—meaning she didn’t go into a trance and speak the future— but they were horrible because of the sense of dread they brought. “He’s coming,” she told Rone, her voice muffled against his broad chest. “He’s coming and there’s nothing we can do to stop him.” “Who?” Rone peered down at her urgently. “Two, the Dark Kindred? The AllFather? Who?” “I don’t know—that’s the thing. I don’t know who it is, I only know he’s dangerous. And Rone…” She looked at him anxiously. “I don’t think we’re going to know him when we see him. I think he’s disguising himself somehow.” Her mate frowned. “What else did you see? Anything about the prophesy?” A few weeks before, Kate had had a Knowing dream—in it, she had been given a strange verse… An old threat made new Within silence grew

Can only be solved By one who jumps True She into he and he into she Unless they are one Apart they’ll not be Exchange of the souls A switch of the roles But jumping between Will take a harsh toll. The rhyme seemed to warn about the future and promise some kind of help but she couldn’t tell from where that help would come. “No,” she told Rone. “Not that I could see. I just keep seeing him over and over in my mind’s eye. And I can feel him wishing evil on us all—plotting to hurt us. But not just us—the entire Kindred race.” She shivered. “It’s horrible.” “Do you want to speak to Commander Sylvan about it again?” Rone asked seriously. Kate shook her head. “No—what good would it do? It’s just the same as all the other dreams. No new information—just me freaking out.” Rone frowned. “I’d still like to talk to him and see if he can prescribe you some kind of safe sedative. You’ve been having these bad dreams almost every night —I’m afraid it might be bad for the babies.” He put a large hand on Kate’s abdomen which wasn’t rounded yet but was beginning to look a little fuller. She was thrice expectant—carrying triplets thanks to a meeting with his Beast and the two ionate nights that followed. She wasn’t due for almost a whole year but Rone was already in protective father mode when it came to their little family.

“It’s because of the babies that I don’t want to take anything,” Kate protested. “What if it hurts them?” “I’m sure Commander Sylvan wouldn’t give you anything that would harm them —he’s a very good doctor,” Rone told her soothingly. “And I’m worried that you being under so much stress and not getting a good night’s sleep will be bad for their development.” Kate sighed and nodded. “All right, we’ll talk to him tomorrow. For now let’s just get back to sleep.” Rone looked at her critically and frowned. “How do you expect to get back to sleep when you’re shivering like that? I think you need to be warmed up. Come on—I’m taking you to the bathing pool.” “But it’s the middle of the night,” Kate protested as he rose effortlessly with her in his arms. “That doesn’t make any difference. You need to warm up and relax. It’s all right, baby.” He kissed her cheek tenderly. “Just let me take care of you.” Sighing, Kate relaxed in his arms. Because of her petite stature, she was a fiercely independent woman. But Rone loved to care for her in every way and she had learned to relax and let him. It added another dimension to their already loving relationship and made her feel safe and secure to be held in his strong, muscular arms. One of the nice things about the Mother Ship was the bathing pool that each guest suite came equipped with. It was a bathtub big enough to swim in, especially for someone Kate’s size and the water in it was lightly scented and deliciously warm. Rone called for dim lighting and a soft, golden glow filled the bathing room. He managed to strip them both without letting Kate go and then descended the broad marble steps with her still in his arms. “Let me know if it’s too hot,” he told her as they slipped noiselessly into the steaming water.

It was a little on the warm side but Kate didn’t mind. The dream always left her feeling chilled to the bone—the hot water lapping around her felt amazing. With a sigh, she rested her head against Rone’s broad chest. “Mmm, this feels so good. You were right, honey—it’s exactly what I needed.” “What you need is to be taken care of.” Rone reached for a big, puffy sponge which exuded a natural, sweet smelling foam. It was yet another creature the Kindred had found and modified to their uses. As Kate understood it, the sponge creature had used to exude the foam as a natural defense against predators. Now it had been genetically modified to release the delicious smelling essence whenever it was squeezed. Its scent reminded her of coconuts and strawberries and something else she couldn’t quite name. Cinnamon? Vanilla? Kate didn’t know, she only knew she loved it. She purred with pleasure as Rone stood her in front of him and began washing her. Her long, curly red hair was already up in a bun at the back of her neck because she didn’t like to sleep with it loose, so he started at the nape of her neck. Stroking the sponge gently over the hollow of her throat and the curve of her shoulders, he kneaded tense muscles as he went, murmuring soothing words that made her relax almost as much as the hot water and the tender massage. “Gods, you’re so beautiful, Lalli,” he murmured hoarsely as he soaped her arms and then the sides of her breasts. He was so big she felt completely surrounded by him, encircled as she was by his long, muscular arms. It was a wonderful, safe feeling she never wanted to end. She drew in a little breath as he continued to wash her—her full breasts were floating in the water, the hard nipples just above the surface. Though Rone soaped the rest of her, scrubbing gently with the sponge, he was careful to avoid the taut pink peaks. Kate knew her mate was trying to be respectful—Rone hadn’t meant for this bath to turn sexual—he was more interested in making sure she was warm and comfortable. But she couldn’t help it—his big hands on her body turned her on, making her feel hot and restless as he stroked gently over her more sensitive areas. “It…it’s okay,” she whispered breathlessly. “You can wash me there—wash my

breasts if you want to.” “Not trying to cop a feel as you humans say,” Rone protested. “I just wanted to make you feel good.” “It does make me feel good to have your hands on me,” Kate sent through their mental link. “Go ahead and touch me—I want you to.” “If that’s what you really want, baby, I’ll be more than happy to.” With a soft, hungry growl, Roan abandoned the sponge and cupped her breasts in his big, warm hands. Kate drew in a ragged breath as he plucked gently at her nipples, sending sparks of fire from her sensitive peaks to the cleft between her thighs. “Rone…” she moaned aloud, pressing back against him. She could feel his long, hard shaft branding her lower back and wished she could get him between her thighs. But he was so much taller than her it was impossible. “No, not exactly impossible,” he sent and she realized he must have heard her through their link. “But I don’t need to be between your thighs yet—I haven’t finished washing you.” Kate gave a soft gasp as one of his big, warm hands dipped below the surface of the water and cupped her pussy. “All right, baby?” she heard him murmur in that deep, soft voice of his. “You like to feel me stroking your soft little pussy?” “Yes,” Kate whispered, hardly aware if she was speaking aloud or not as she nestled herself more fully into his broad palm. “Yes, I love it.” “Should I wash you inside too?” His deep voice held a teasing note. “Want me to spread that sweet little cunt of yours and wash deep inside your pussy, baby?” Kate squirmed in his arms. God, she loved when he talked dirty to her! “Yes,” she moaned breathlessly. “Yes, please, Rone!” “All right then, just relax and let me wash your soft little pussy,” he murmured.

Kate tried but it was hard to relax in his hand, hard not to buck her hips up to meet him, begging mutely for more. She didn’t have to beg for long—using two long fingers, Rone spread the outer lips of her pussy and a warm rush of water caressed her inner folds. “Oh!” Kate writhed helplessly against his hand. She was so sensitive down there lately—the lightest touch seemed to set her off. Rone seemed to know it too—he barely touched her, lightly caressing around the swollen button of her clit with the tip of one finger. Sensations shot through her until Kate felt like she couldn’t breathe. God, how did he always know just how to touch her? If he kept this up she was going to come…come so hard. But I don’t want you to come on my hand. Rone’s mental voice was a low, lustful growl. “Rone!” she protested aloud as he slowly withdrew his hand. “Why did you stop? I was so close.” “I know how close you are, baby,” he murmured. “And believe me, I’m going to get you there—I promise.” He went to the side of the bathing pool and began to arrange some towels. “What are you doing?” Kate asked, wading over to him. “This.” Gently, he took her by the waist and lifted her as though she weighed no more than a doll. He deposited her carefully on the folded towels so that she was sitting on the edge of the pool with just her legs in the water. Then he wrapped another dry towel around her shoulders to keep her from getting cold. “Rone?” Kate looked at him uncertainly as he got into position between her thighs. Being a Wulven Kindred, he needed to taste her often and spent a lot of time pleasuring her with his tongue but it was almost always in the bedroom. Kate didn’t mind—they even used the Tasting Swing sometimes so that she could hang comfortably suspended while Rone went down on her for hours. But somehow, despite all their adventures into oral love, they had never done it in the bathtub.

“That’s because we never had a bathing pool before,” Rone sent, kissing her inner thigh and looking up at her. “Let’s take advantage of it.” “All right.” Kate smiled and stroked one hand through his thick, wild black hair. Her mate was so big that even with her sitting above him on the lip of the pool he still had to crouch to get to her. Not that he appeared to mind. “Lalli,” he murmured, running his tongue gently up the inside of her thigh. “Just relax and let me taste you…let me make you feel good.” “All…all right,” Kate whispered, spreading her legs a little wider for him. She watched as he got to her pussy and rubbed his cheek against the light thatch of red curls at the top of her mound. “Mmm…” The sound was a growl of pure pleasure. “Love your scent, baby… you smell so good…taste so good…” “I…I’m glad you like it.” Kate felt a sudden surge of need—the feeling that she had to have him touch her. Tightening her grip on his thick hair, she pulled him closer, urging him in. Rone seemed to love her aggressive gesture because he looked up at her with an expression of pure lust. “That’s right, baby—show me where you need me. Put me in just the right spot to give your sweet little pussy pleasure.” In answer, Kate tugged him again and pressed her hips up demandingly. “Less talk, more action,” she sent through the link, only half joking. Rone didn’t waste any more words. Instead, he spread her outer pussy lips with his thumbs and dived in, tasting her pussy in one long, slow lick that started at the bottom and ended at the very top of her slit. “Ah!” Kate gasped as his hot tongue dragged over the sensitive bump of her clit. “Oh God…Oh, Rone!” He lapped her again, taking his time, savoring her flavor and then began dragging magical circles around her clit, making Kate jump and moan with each

circuit he made. She couldn’t believe how hot it was, sitting on the edge of the pool, looking down as he moved between her legs, watching as he lapped and sucked and tasted her swollen pussy. It was the sight almost as much as the pleasure of his tongue on her that pushed her over the edge. Suddenly the pleasure that had been building inside her came to a peak and she gasped and tightened her grip on his hair. Rone knew exactly what her gesture meant. Gripping her hips in his massive hands, he pressed his tongue deep inside her, eager to taste her honey as it flowed from her well. “Oh…Oh!” Kate’s back arched and her toes curled as she pressed up to meet him, riding his face shamelessly, giving in to the pleasure completely. And through it all, Rone stayed with her, his mouth still busy between her thighs, his big hands holding her steady as she bucked and writhed under him. Kate moaned as the orgasm flowed through her and over her and Rone’s long, hot tongue lapped away her juices. Oh God, this was what she needed and she knew Rone needed it too. Wulven Kindred hungered for their mates, craved their taste almost to the point of desperation. The big Kindred would spend the whole night between her thighs if she let him—but Kate was suddenly exhausted. As the pleasure finally ebbed, she sagged back on her arms, her energy completely spent. Rone felt her movement and looked up, his mouth and chin shiny with her nectar. “Kate? Baby, are you okay?” “Fine…” Kate’s voice was faint with fatigue. “Just really…really tired all of a sudden.” “It’s the pregnancy,” Rone murmured. “Commander Sylvan said it would make you really tired carrying three babies at once—especially during the first quester.” “I’m sorry…”Kate felt a yawn coming and couldn’t stop it. “I wanted…wanted to make love.”

Rone raised an eyebrow at her. “What do you think we’ve just been doing?” “Yes, but you didn’t get to…to…” Kate gestured at him and yawned again. “Yes I did—twice.” He grinned at her wolfishly. “You always forget that I come when I taste you.” “Oh…that’s right.” Kate yawned again. “Honestly, I can hardly keep my eyes open now. What’s wrong with me?” “You’re pregnant—thrice expectant, Lalli.” Rone dried himself off and made her stand so he could blot all the water off Kate as well. Then he lifted her gently into his arms and tucked her head against his chest. “Some fatigue is to be expected. But are you warm and comfortable now? Do you think you could go back to sleep?” “If you hold me.” Kate looked up at him, feeling her heart surge with love. “As long as I’m in your arms I’ll feel safe enough to sleep.” “Of course, baby—I’ll hold you all night,” he promised gently. Cradling her to him, he took her back to bed and placed her gently between the sheets. As he slipped in beside her and pulled her close to his big body, Kate felt herself relaxing as all the fear and worry the dream had brought to her slipped away. But her last thought before she drifted off was of the prophesy. Where was the one who “Jumps True?” What was he doing and would he come in time to save them from the threat she felt growing…or would he be too late?

Ten

“You want to put hot wax where again?” Kerov demanded, looking at the bored female technician in disbelief, wondering how he had gotten into this mess in the first place. Oh right, it was Frankie’s best friend, Lacy, who had been the cause of it all. She had given him the impression that he was keeping a medical appointment for Frankie. To his horror, he was beginning to find out this wasn’t so. He had thought it was odd when they got to the facility called “Wax me Beautiful” and he was led into a small back room barely larger than a closet. There was nothing there but a padded exam table covered in sterile, crackling paper and a small pot full of bubbling yellow liquid. Kerov had frowned and looked around—what kind of test could be performed in such a small area with no medical equipment? And what was the yellow, viscous liquid for? “All right,” the attendant who had led him back to the room told him. “You just take off your yoga pants and underwear and lay on the table there with your legs spread wide.” “What? Why?” Kerov demanded. The girl frowned and made a popping noise with the pink, malleable substance she was chewing. It had a bland, sweet smell which Kerov disliked. “So Helga can wax you of course! She can’t get to your goodies if you still have your pants on!” “Helga?” Kerov raised an eyebrow at her. “Your waxing technician.” The attendant squeezed his arm. “Listen, you’re going to love her. She’s so fast you’ll barely feel a thing.” And with those not exactly reassuring words, she had left him alone in the small room with the exam table and the pot of yellow, bubbling liquid. Feeling more vulnerable than he ever had before, Kerov had removed the tight fitting pants and tiny, lacy undergarments and had climbed up on the table as directed. The padded table felt cold to his bare ass and the crisp white paper

crackled as he moved, trying to get adjusted. He didn’t like the idea of spreading his legs, though, even though the girl had said he must. Back home in his own body, nudity was no big deal. He showered naked with other males on the base all the time and thought nothing of it. Here, however, it seemed wrong, somehow. Mostly he objected to putting Frankie’s most private and sensitive areas on display. When he spread his legs, he could feel her pussy lips spreading too—it made him feel intensely exposed which he didn’t care for at all. Just as he was finally getting settled, the door had banged open and a massive woman with muscular forearms and small, dark eyes bustled into the room in a businesslike way. She was remarkably tall for an Earth female and very solid looking, Kerov thought. Thin, dark hair was scraped back from her shiny forehead into a bun at the back of her neck and she had a light dusting of black hair over her upper lip as well—almost a mustache. For a moment Kerov wondered if she was truly female but her formidable bosom put that question to rest. Speaking of which, he could feel Frankie’s nipples hardening in trepidation under the thin top he wore. He wished now that he had tried harder to figure out the undergarment which went beneath it. Feeling Frankie’s nipples become, sensitive points with nothing but the thin top to protect them made him feel even more vulnerable. “All right, sweetie,” Helga bugled, slapping the door shut behind her and going to the pot of bubbling yellow liquid. “Let’s get started on that love cookie of yours. Now which side do you want the wax on first?” “Hot…wax?” Kerov stared in horror at the attendant who was holding up a thin wooden paddle coated in the viscous yellow gunk from the pot. Gunk she apparently wanted to slather over the sensitive area between his thighs. “Yeah, hot wax. How else are we going to get your hairy little biscuit all nice and smooth?” Kerov clapped his thighs shut. He had never felt so vulnerable in his life—it made him wonder if females felt this way often. If so, he would never want to be permanently stuck in a female body. He felt so exposed.

And now he knew exactly what he had exposed himself for. Lacy’s words during mid-meal had made almost no sense to him, but now, lying naked and vulnerable on the cold, padded exam-type table, Kerov had a horrible revelation. “You want to put wax where?” he asked again, still not believing it. “On your va-jay-jay, hon. You did pay for a Brazilian, right? So that’s what this is.” “It is? But…why?” “To get you all smooth and sexy.” Without asking again, the technician dived in. Spreading his thighs with horribly strong hands, she started slathering the hot, gooey wax all over the soft little patch of curls that decorated the mound of Frankie’s pussy. Kerov yelped as the heated wax made with the sensitive area. But before he could jerk away, the technician put down the wooden paddle and grabbed for some thin cloth strips. She pressed them over the wax-coated area and rubbed vigorously. “Hey!” Kerov wanted to kick her—she hadn’t said anything about actually touching between his legs! He himself had refrained from handling that area out of respect to Frankie and now a complete stranger was dripping hot wax on it and rubbing it all over! But the next minute his indignation was forgotten in a wash of pure agony when Helga grabbed the end of the cloth and ripped it away, taking the soft curls as well as what felt like half his skin with it. “Ahh!” Kerov sat bolt upright, every nerve tingling in pain. “What in the Seven Hells?” he demanded. “All right now, honey, it’s all right,” the technician soothed. Taking him by the shoulder, she pushed him back down on the table. He struggled but she was a much bigger female than Frankie was and incredibly strong. “The first side is the worst, I promise.” “The first side?” Looking down, Kerov realized with horror that only half of Frankie’s soft, black curls were gone. Did this sadistic woman actually intend to

repeat the process? Apparently so, because before he could protest, she had grabbed the small wooden paddle and smeared the other side of Frankie’s mound with hot wax. “No!” Kerov shouted, starting to get off the table. But again, the technician pressed him back down. She really was horribly strong. It was a new and terrible experience for Kerov, being physically overpowered. He had almost never known a time in his life when he wasn’t bigger or stronger than his peers. He struggled but to no avail—Helga was determined to torture him. “Settle down, honey and let’s get this over with,” she snapped, clearly running out of patience. “I don’t want to get it over with—I don’t want it done at all! I want you to let me up right now.” Kerov growled, glaring at her. But even his most intimidating growl came out sounding high and squeaky in Frankie’s voice. Damn but he was sick and tired of being trapped in a female body! “Sorry but I can’t let you go like this—if the wax dries before I can rip it off you’ll never get it out.” Helga gave him a warning look. “Is that what you want? A big wad of dried wax hanging off your hoo-ha?” Kerov struggled to master himself. Obviously he couldn’t leave Frankie’s body in worse shape than when he had entered it. There was already a lump on her forehead from the failed yoga pose. And having a dried wad of the yellowish goo permanently affixed to what this woman called her “hoo-ha” would clearly be even worse. “All right,” he said at last, forcing himself to relax back on the cold table and spread his thighs. “But hurry.” “Fast as I can,” Helga muttered. Once again she applied the thin white cloth strips and once again there was the painful ripping agony. Kerov bit his lower lip until it bled. He had been wounded on the battlefield more times than he could count but this level of personal pain was unfamiliar to him. Also, wounds inflicted in the heat of battle were barely felt—one was too busy fighting to notice one was bleeding. But he had no savage skirmish with the

Swarm to distract him now—he had to lie here, exposed and hurting, allowing this woman to torture him and for what? So that Frankie could have a smooth pussy mound? Why was that necessary? For medical purposes? Religious reasons maybe? Did the people of her world consider hair in the nether regions to be some kind of abomination? What was wrong with them? “All right, that’s the worst of it,” Helga announced looking between his legs with apparent satisfaction. “Now we just need to do a few touch-ups. Lucky for you, you’re not too hairy to start with.” “Touch ups?” Kerov stared at her. “Does that mean you want to rip more hair out?” “Just a little—you want to be nice and smooth for your man tonight, don’t you?” Helga asked in a wheedling tone. “After all, your friend out there told me you have a hot date lined up. Don’t you want him to ire your lady treasures?” Kerov felt his stomach knot with rage. This was the reason he’d had to go through torture and agony? Not for any medical problem or religious belief but so Frankie could give herself to some male who probably—no, undoubtedly— didn’t deserve her? “No,” he said thickly. “No, I do not want some strange male or anyone else iring my ‘lady treasures’ as you put it.” The woman sighed. “All right, be that way. In that case, we’ll move on to the back. Flip over and spread your cheeks.” “What?” Kerov could scarcely believe what he was hearing. “You want to put hot wax there too?” “Look, I know the front stings but believe me, the back is way better,” Helga promised reasonably, going back to the pot of wax and dipping in another thin paddle. “There are hardly any nerve endings so—” But before she could finish, Kerov had hopped off the table and grabbed for his tros. He began to pull them on, wincing when the soft fabric rubbed over the raw mound of flesh which had been Frankie’s soft nest of curls. “Honey, now come on.” Helga put a hand on her hip. “What if your man wants

to do butt-stuff? What are you going to do—show him a hairy love hole? You don’t want that!” “Keep away from me.” Kerov pointed a finger at her. “What I don’t want is for you to spread that poisonous goo on any other parts of my anatomy.” “But—” Kerov didn’t hear the rest of her remonstration. Turning the knob, he fled from the small torture chamber, hobbling as fast as he could because it hurt to walk. Frankie, he thought as he went, keeping an eye out for the over-zealous technician he was afraid was chasing him. If we ever Switch back I’m going to have a Hell of a lot to pay you back for! I don’t care what you are going through in my body, it can’t be as bad as what I’m experiencing in yours!

“Ugh! I’m beat!” Frankie collapsed in a cot in the Commanders’ barracks. She wanted to loosen the collar of Kerov’s dress uniform which was pinching her throat, but she was so tired she didn’t feel like fiddling with the weird latching mechanism that held it together. What a morning! The last time Frankie had been in a parade was when she was a kid. Her fourth grade class had been in the Children’s Gasparilla parade in South Tampa but they had only marched a few blocks and it had been fun. How could it not be? Music was playing, people were cheering, and everyone was throwing candy and plastic bead necklaces every step of the way. A parade—or review as it was called here—was very different on Tarsia. For one thing, the mood was not very festive—clearly the parade wasn’t for fun at all. It was a military affair with rows and rows of soldiers in uniform marching solemnly in formation. There was no candy, no beads, no big colorful floats… and no fun as far as Frankie could see. True, the streets were crowded with ordinary citizens who had come out to see the magnificent display, but none of them were cheering or shouting. In fact, as far as she could see, none of them were even smiling. They milled at the sidelines aimlessly, not talking to each other, their faces rigid masks as they watched the soldiers go by. Frankie got the distinct impression that they had been ordered to be there and were only marking time until the review was over so they could go home. As for Frankie, she wasn’t having any fun either. And it wasn’t because Ursa was acting up, though Frankie was afraid she might, considering that she had to be separated from her cubs which were locked securely in the stall for safety’s sake. But the big bear-creature seemed to understand her babies were safe—she also seemed to sense the importance of the occasion. She was in perfect form, ambling along at the head of the battalion of soldiers that Kerov commanded, never deviating from her course once. So Ursa was fine, but Frankie was most definitely not. She liked animals but she’d never even been horseback riding. She had wanted

to go—like a lot of girls she’d gone through a horse-loving stage where she read every book she could find on them—Man o’ War, King of the Wind, My Friend Flicka… but nothing she’d read could have prepared her for sitting for miles and miles on a creature like Ursa. 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 reins 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 imive 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?

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 makeup!” 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 grizzlybear-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 ? 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 itted 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 itted, 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 reins 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.”

Frankie made a mental sound of disbelief at his compliment. “Yeah, right, I’m so sure. Look, you don’t have to say that—I know I’m not your type.” “What does that mean?” Kerov demanded. “I mean, I’m not like Xirnah—in fact, I’m the complete opposite of her.” “Well, I suppose that’s true.” He looked in the mirror again at her long dark hair and her curves, all but hidden by the pink and purple puffy dress. “But that’s not necessarily a bad thing. In fact—” But just then a knock sounded at the door. “Oh my God—is that Professor Ramlow?” Frankie fluttered excitedly in his head. “Is it him?” Kerov frowned. “I suppose it must be.” “Oh no—and you dressed me like this?” Kerov thought she must be referring to the pink and purple dress with its wide white underskirt and matching shoes. “Yes, I did,” he said. “Lacy said I should wear a “sexy dress.” I looked in your closet and this seemed to qualify. Is it not a dress?” “Yes, but not a sexy one! I bought it for my cousin’s wedding—Esperanza always did have awful taste.” “A wedding?” Kerov searched her mind. “You mean a ing ceremony?” “Yes, whatever you want to call it. The bride gets to pick the colors and her attendants or bridesmaids have to wear them. So I had no choice—I had to wear this ugly thing in Esperanza’s wedding. But after that I put it up and swore to never put it on again.” She sighed. “Why couldn’t you have put me in my little black dress? That one’s great for hiding my ass!” “Hiding it? Why would you want to hide it?” Kerov turned to the side, wishing he could see her luscious curves beneath the puffy dress. Her behind was so different from Xirnah’s…so lush and full, especially in the tight fitting yoga

pants… The knock at the door sounded again. “Oh no—he’s out there but I can’t let him see me like this! I look like a clown with this make-up and the crazy dress!” “Do you want me to change?” “No time now—quick, go get the door and let him in,” Frankie directed. “Then you can make an excuse to go in the bathroom and change there. And do not mess this up for me. I really like this guy.” Kerov didn’t like this—not one little bit. Somehow the idea of Frankie with some strange male didn’t sit right with him at all. In fact, he felt he hated this professor person even though he had never met him. But he had already screwed up Frankie’s life enough—he owed it to her to do the best job he could of her “date” tonight. “All right, all right,” he muttered, wobbling towards the door on the ridiculously tall, high heeled shoes. “I’ll let him in and be gracious to him. But that’s all I can promise.” “Why are you walking like that?” Frankie demanded. “What’s wrong with my feet?” “They are strapped into this ridiculous footwear that matches the dress,” Kerov told her. “They are also very painful. How do you manage to walk in these things?” “Well, they hurt like Hell but they make your legs look great,” Frankie told him. “Look, just don’t let him see me like this for long. Let him in, make an excuse, and run for the bathroom.” “I will do the best I can,” Kerov said again. The knock sounded a third time but just then, he got to her domicile’s front door and was able to pull it open. Outside was a male of medium height with light brown hair and blandly handsome features. He had several things in his hands—a brown paper sack that gave off a savory aroma, a green bottle filled with liquid and a bunch of red flowers wrapped in green paper.

“Ah, sca,” he said smoothly, stepping up with a charming smile. “Don’t you just look…” Then he took in the dress and make-up and for a moment his smile faltered. “Don’t you just look, ah, lovely,” he said at last, haltingly. “Dios, no! He thinks I look crazy!” Frankie’s mental voice sounded agonized. “Quick—make some kind of excuse! Don’t let him think I go around looking like this all the time!” “I must apologize for my appearance,” Kerov said stiffly, standing aside so that the other male could enter the domicile. “I wore this dress for a ing ceremony—I mean, a wedding. And especially because you were coming over.” The blandly handsome features paled a little. “Uh, a wedding, you say?” Was it his imagination or did Ramlow’s voice go a bit high on the words? “Why would me coming to your place make you think about a, uh, a wedding?” “Oh no—quick! He thinks I think we’re going to get married! That I’m some crazy girl who demands commitment on the first date. Say something else—let him know it’s not true!” Frankie shouted in his head. Kerov winced—her mental voice got loud when she was upset. “Excuse me if I gave you the wrong impression,” he said to Ramlow. “I didn’t mean I wore this garment with the intension of ing myself to you in a lifelong commitment.” The other male’s face got even paler. “A lifelong commitment?” he echoed. Kerov plowed ahead. “Indeed. I know this is the beginning of our relationship and I would never think that you were ready for that—at least not now. Though if you wish it in the future, I could…” He cleared his throat, trying to ease the way for Frankie’s possible union with this male, although he didn’t like it one bit. “I could certainly be open to that.” “You would?” Strangely, his words of comfort didn’t appear to have made Ramlow feel any better. In fact, he was still staring at Kerov in a way that

suggested he thought there might be some mental imbalance at work. “Dios, no! You’re making it worse!” Frankie sounded really upset now. “Quick, make an excuse and run for the bathroom! Now—now!” “I mean…” Kerov tried again. “I only wore this dress because I thought you would find it sexually appealing. But now I see this isn’t so. I must excuse myself to the fresher—the bathroom I mean—to change into something more to your liking.” Then he turned awkwardly on the high, spindly heels and ran as fast as he could, wobbling in the strange footwear, towards the bathroom. “What are you doing? What are you doing?” Frankie shouted in his head. “Madre de Dios—why are you running away from him?” “Because you told me to,” Kerov muttered, under his breath as he finally reached the fresher. “You said to run as fast as I could and so I did, although I was considerably hampered by your ridiculous shoes.” “It’s an expression! I didn’t mean you should literally run away from him like that. Now he’s going to think I’m crazy—meeting him at the door dressed like this, talking about marriage and then running away like my hair was on fire and my ass was catching!” Frankie made a sound of desperation. “I’ll be lucky if he doesn’t just go right out the door this minute and never speak to me again!” “If he is a male of worth he will give you another chance.” Kerov sighed and ran one hand through her thick, curly black hair. His fingers got caught on a tangle. “Ow!” he and Frankie said together as they both experienced the pain. “Look,” Kerov told her. “Let me put on the dress you say you want to wear and go back out to him. I swear I can salvage this situation.” Although he didn’t know exactly how. “All right.” Frankie sighed. “Do it but please, be more careful this time! I really like this guy, Kerov!” Kerov already hated Ramlow but he refrained from saying as much. The least he could do was to try his best for Frankie, just as she had tried for him.

“All right,” he said. “Let’s get changed. Now which dress did you say was the sexually appealing one again?” Sometime later, he walked back out into the living area of Frankie’s domicile wearing a sleek black dress, black shoes with no heels which matched it, and almost no make-up. Frankie had had him scrub off what he had applied before she turned up and then tried to instruct him on how to do it properly. But Kerov was hopeless. He put on the blush much too heavily and as for the liquid eyeliner, Frankie said he made her look like Cleopatra, whoever that was. In the end, she had decided that he should go barefaced except for a small touch of shiny lip gloss which she had him apply with the lightest hand possible. The whole business seemed ridiculous to Kerov. To him, Frankie’s finely molded features and big, almond shaped brown eyes were already lovely—why should she need anything to enhance them? But when he tried to tell her so, she seemed to think he was joking. And since he had no time to convince her otherwise, Kerov had applied the lip gloss as directed and then finally went back to meet her “date” again. Ramlow was sitting on the small couch in the living area looking uncertainly at the door. He had placed the paper sack, the bottle, and the bunch of flowers on a small table nearby. He looked up with trepidation when Kerov came in view. “Hello again, sca,” he said, rising. Kerov noticed that without the impossibly high heels strapped to Frankie’s feet, the other male was actually taller than him now—a fact he disliked very much. “Hello,” he said, shortly. He had decided it would be better to say as little as possible. Whenever he became verbose, he seemed to make things worse. In lieu of more words, he stepped forward when Ramlow rose and offered to clasp arms in a gesture of greeting. “What are you doing? Why are you grabbing his arm?” Frankie demanded inside his head. “We shake hands here, not arms.” Quickly, Kerov adjusted his grip to take the other male’s hand. He couldn’t help noticing how soft it was and how weak Ramlow’s grip was. He might just be

adjusting his hold because he didn’t want to hurt Frankie but somehow Kerov didn’t think so. Ramlow was no warrior—he could tell. This hand had never held a sword or shield or blaster. This hand—this male—was weak. And, as he had suspected, not worthy of Frankie. Still, Ramlow was her choice and so he had to go along with this farce, even if it irritated him to no end. “Won’t you come into the food prep area—I mean the kitchen?” he asked, trying to smile at the other male. “We can dine on the delicious comestibles I see you have brought.” “Delicious comestibles? Dios—I don’t talk like that!” Frankie protested. But Kerov’s words seemed to have done the trick. After another uncertain look, Ramlow picked up his things from the small table and followed him into the kitchen. “Fine,” Kerov muttered under his breath, trying to be sure Ramlow didn’t hear him. “I’ll do my best to talk more like you—satisfied?” “I suppose.” Frankie still didn’t sound happy. “Look, just loosen up—don’t be so stiff. And flirt a little, maybe.” “Flirt?” he muttered, keeping his back to Ramlow. To cover his conversation with Frankie, he searched in the wooden shelves she had hung on her walls for drinking and eating utensils. “Sure, you know…laugh at his jokes, touch his arm…that kind of thing. And smile. Really smile!” All of these things were completely foreign to Kerov’s nature but he was resolved to do the best he could for her. “All right,” he muttered. “I said I’ll try.” “I hope you like Pino Gris,” Ramlow said from behind him. “I really wanted a nice Riesling to go with the Thai food but the store I stopped at was all out.” “I’m sure that will be fine,” Kerov said, having no idea what the other male was talking about. He finally located some plates as well as some elegant looking,

long-stemmed glasses which he pulled from the wooden shelves and set on the counter. “Well, shall I dish it out? Don’t worry about utensils,” Ramlow said, seeming more at ease. “I brought chopsticks for both of us.” Without waiting for a reply, he opened the brown paper sack and began dishing out the contents of several white paper containers onto Frankie’s plates. Kerov watched in silence for a moment but then he couldn’t contain himself anymore. If he was actively going to facilitate a romantic relationship between Frankie and this male, he had to know more about him. He knew it was ridiculous but he felt protective of her—he didn’t want her to come to harm. “So,” he said, taking one of the plates, now loaded with long, thin, slippery strips in sauce and various colorful vegetables. “How old are you, Ramlow?” “Oh, uh…well, you know, mid-thirties, early forties. Age is just a number as far as I’m concerned.” Ramlow looked slightly uncomfortable. “Uh-huh. And how long have we known each other now, would you say?” Kerov continued. “What are you doing?” Frankie asked in his head. “Trying to make small talk or interrogate him?” Kerov couldn’t answer her without looking like he was talking to himself so he kept his silence and stared at the other male as they settled themselves at Frankie’s small kitchen table. “Oh, well…it must be six months now, right? Ever since you took my Literature by Women of Color lecture.” Ramlow gave him what Kerov supposed was meant to be a seductive smile. It turned his stomach. “Yes,” he said neutrally. “That lecture was…most instructive.” Ramlow looked at him with half-lidded eyes. “All I know is that the minute I saw you sitting there in the front row, so eager to learn, with those big, gorgeous eyes of yours, I wanted to know you better.”

“See, now that’s flirting,” Frankie informed him, her mental voice sounding slightly breathless. “Go on—say something flirty back.” Kerov cleared his throat. “I felt…the same when I saw your big, uh, head,” he said haltingly. “No, no! You don’t compliment his head—that sounds wrong! Like you think he’s conceited. Talk about something else—how smart he is! Or his hands—I always notice hands on a man.” “Excuse me a moment.” Kerov rose from the table and went to the sink where Ramlow wouldn’t be able to see his mouth move. “I will not compliment his hands,” he muttered to Frankie as softly as he could. “He has a weak grip—there is nothing to compliment.” “Go back to the table! He’ll think you’re crazy, standing by the sink talking to yourself. No wait—grab some paper towels first from the roll there. That’s a good excuse. And if you can’t compliment him back, at least don’t insult him!” Kerov didn’t like this a bit but he grabbed a few of the thin, white sheets of paper she’d indicated and brought them back to the table. “Towels of paper,” he said, handing one to Ramlow. “I thought we might need them.” “Of course.” Ramlow didn’t seem to notice anything amiss. He had opened the green glass bottle while Kerov was at the sink and now he filled both their glasses with a slightly alcoholic smelling liquid. “Here,” he added, handing Kerov a paper package containing two long, thin sticks which were stuck together at one end. Kerov watched carefully as Ramlow took his own package of sticks and broke them apart before digging in to the succulent smelling food on the plate. Then he did the same but the slippery strands which looked a little like li-lah eels refused to stay on the sticks. “Not like that,” Frankie instructed. “Anchor the bottom stick against your thumb and your middle finger. Then use your pointer finger to manipulate the top stick. No, try again…”

Kerov did, with increasing frustration. But try as he might to follow her instructions, he couldn’t get any of the food to his mouth. At last he put one stick down, speared a green, crenellated thing on the end of the other stick and shoved it into his mouth. “Well, at least you finally got something to eat.” Frankie sounded amused. “That’s broccoli, by the way. It’s really good for you.” The food crunched and a bitter, complex taste met his tongue. Kerov didn’t much like it but it was a little better than the food he’d had at lunch so he chewed and swallowed and then tried stabbing a different kind of food—a round orange coin shaped object which turned out to be slightly sweeter. Frankie informed him it was called a “carrot.” “I hope you like it,” Ramlow said, looking up from his own plate. “I know you’re a strict vegetarian so I told them to keep it completely meat free. Even the Pad Thai is meatless.” “Oh,” Kerov said flatly. Inwardly, he sighed. Was he never going to taste anything good on this whole planet? What he wouldn’t give for a good chunk of bezore steak or even a smoked chin-o-chin snout! “That’s not a very nice response,” Frankie chided him. “He’s telling you that he did something especially for you—for me, anyway. It’s very thoughtful. Say so.” Kerov cleared his throat. “My response to your overture was lacking,” he told Ramlow who was staring at him quizzically. “Clearly it shows you’ve been thinking of me a lot lately. So thank you.” “No, don’t say it like that…” Frankie exclaimed but Ramlow seemed pleased. “Well, I have been thinking about you quite a bit, sca, that’s true,” he murmured, lowering his voice and looking at Kerov meaningfully across the table. “You might even say I’ve fantasized about this very moment.” “You have, have you?” Kerov tried to restrain the urge to glare at the other male. He didn’t like the idea of Ramlow fantasizing about Frankie—not one damn bit.

“Well yes, just the two of us, alone at last. You know, I think we’ve been working up to this for quite a while, don’t you?” Ramlow reached forward and took Kerov’s free hand. Squeezing gently, he began to caress the back of Kerov’s fingers with his thumb in a way he clearly thought was seductive. Kerov stiffened and resisted the urge to jerk away and punch the other male. On Tarsia such casual touching was against social convention and good manners both. Also, he had no wish to be touched by another male. This is for Frankie, he reminded himself grimly. Do it for Frankie. She did more than this for you with Xirnah. Although if he was expected to copulate with another male, even while in a female body, he didn’t know if he could do it. He simply wasn’t wired that way. In fact, the very idea made his gut churn—especially considering the other male was the weak, spineless, unworthy Ramlow, whom Kerov was actively beginning to loathe. Speaking of Ramlow, he was still making soulful eyes at Kerov across the table. “Oh look—I think you have something on your lip,” he murmured. Leaning across the table, he cupped Kerov’s chin and swiped gently at his lower lip with his thumb. Seven Hells! This time Kerov couldn’t stop the urge to jerk back. Letting another male hold his hand in his clammy, limp grip was one thing—actually allowing that male to touch and caress his face—was another. Such intimate and romantic acts were forbidden on his planet—not just between males—between anyone. “sca?” Ramlow frowned. “Are you all right?” Kerov tried to cover his involuntary gesture with a cough. “Excuse me,” he said, reaching blindly for the long stemmed glass and taking a gulp of the alcohol. It burned pleasantly down his throat—the first good tasting thing he’d put in his mouth since he had taken up residence in Frankie’s body. Tilting it up, Kerov drained the glass. “Sorry,” he said, setting it down at last. “I…was suddenly thirsty.”

“Suddenly shy, don’t you mean?” Ramlow gave him another one of those “seductive” smiles and refilled the glass. “Have some more?” “Thank you.” Kerov nodded and lifted the glass. “Hey, take it easy,” Frankie protested as he drank. “I’m a real lightweight when it comes to alcohol. One glass of wine is usually my limit.” Kerov stopped drinking but when he sat the glass back down, he saw he had nearly drained it again. And Ramlow was already refilling it. Still—what harm could it do? Back home he could drink anyone he knew under the table. Surely he would have brought at least some of his capacity for holding his liquor with him. Right? It seemed logical to Kerov but clearly Frankie didn’t think so. “Eat some more,” she urged. “If you don’t I’m going to get drunk!” “Drunk?” Kerov muttered and hiccupped loudly. “Surely not,” Ramlow said, smiling. “Not on just a few glasses of wine! Have some more, my dear—it seems to agree with you.” “No—don’t!” Frankie said urgently but Kerov had automatically raised the glass and taken another drink. Whatever was in the green bottle really was a very pleasant alcohol—he wondered if there was any way to take some of it back to Tarsia with him. “This ish…I mean, is very tashty,” he said, wondering why his words were coming out slurred. Could the alcohol be having a greater effect on him than anticipated? He tried to think—had he heard somewhere that people who were Switched into each others bodies were more sensitive to such things? Especially the one who had jumped into the host body? “Oh my God, you’re drunk! Or almost drunk!” Frankie interrupted his cloudy thoughts, sounding like she was frowning. “You’d better be careful—too much alcohol makes me sick.” Kerov didn’t know what she was talking about until he looked down at his plate again. Suddenly the formerly savory smelling food turned his stomach. He

pushed the plate away clumsily, not wanting it near him. “Are you all right, sca?” Ramlow asked again. “Fine,” Kerov said slowly and distinctly. He was determined to sober up or at least not sound quite so drunk. “Jusht…I mean just not…very hungry right now.” “You know, I’m not very hungry either. Not for food, anyway,” Ramlow said, smiling knowingly. “Maybe we should leave the cleaning up for later and go get comfortable someplace else. What do you say?” Without waiting for an answer, he rose and came around the table. Taking Kerov by both hands, he pulled him to his feet. Kerov came willingly enough, although his stomach lurched as he stood. “Hey,” Frankie protested in his head, sounding uncertain. “This is moving kind of fast. What does he think he’s doing?” Kerov wasn’t sure but he followed Ramlow, who appeared to be leading him into the sleeping chamber. Ramlow settled on the side of Frankie’s bed and pulled Kerov down to sit beside him. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, running a hand through Frankie’s long, curly black hair. “So exotic…so…so ethnic.” “What the hell is he talking about?” Frankie demanded, sounding more and more upset. “And what does he think he’s doing?” “I think…think he’s attempt…tempting to have shexual relations,” Kerov muttered in a hoarse whisper. He had a vague feeling that he wasn’t supposed to be talking to Frankie in front of Ramlow—at least not where the other male could hear—but he couldn’t seem to why. Not that Ramlow was paying much attention to what he was saying. “Yes, sexual—that’s exactly what it is between us,” he murmured in Kerov’s ear, tickling him unbearably. “That’s what it’s always been, hasn’t it, sca?”

“I don’t like this!” Frankie yelled in Kerov’s head, making him jerk. “Ask him about the TA job he promised me. That’s why he was supposed to come here tonight—not to creep all over me.” Kerov tried to get hold of himself and pull back from the alcoholic stupor he seemed to have drifted into. “Wha’ ‘bout the…the T and A job you pr’mised me?” he asked, looking sternly at Ramlow, though his eyes kept wanting to cross. This close to the other male, he could smell a strangely sickly-sweet odor that must be some kind of cologne or scent. It made his stomach turn over again in a very uncomfortable way. “We don’t need to talk about the TA position right now,” Ramlow said, still nuzzling Kerov’s ear. “In fact, we don’t need to talk at all. Let’s just communicate via the language of love, shall we?” “Bullshit we will!” Frankie bugled in Kerov’s head, making him wince. “Ask him about his wife, Nancy—ask him if he’s really divorcing her.” “Your…your Nasty wife…no…” Kerov shook his head, trying to get it right. “Nanshy, your wife…” “Yes?” Ramlow was frowning at him. “Are you…are you really div…divor…sep’rating from her?” Kerov demanded, attempting to sound stern. “We’re spending time apart,” Ramlow said dismissively. “But let’s not talk about her right now.” “But Frankie—I mean I—really want to talk about her right now,” Kerov insisted. “If Nasty…I mean Nashty is your mate—your wife—you shouldn’t be with ‘nother female. It’s not …not right.” Ramlow’s frown deepened. “Come on, sca, let’s not play games. I think we both know why I’m here,” he murmured, cupping Kerov’s cheek in his damp, clammy palm. “Hold on—this is getting out of hand,” Frankie said in his head. “He seems to

be assuming an awful lot.” “What should…should I do?” Kerov asked. His stomach was still rolling, the three full glasses of alcohol sloshing in a way that made him feel ill and weak— both feelings he wasn’t used to and didn’t like a bit. He had been talking to Frankie, but of course Ramlow thought the words were directed at him. “Just let nature take its course,” he murmured. Pulling Kerov closer, he started sliding the hand that wasn’t cupping his cheek up the short black skirt of the dress Frankie had insisted on wearing. “Stop him—stop him!” Frankie sounded panicked now. “Don’t let us get date raped here! Come on, Kerov—get with it!” Kerov opened his mouth to reply—or maybe to tell the other male in no uncertain to back off. But just then, Ramlow leaned in for a kiss. Pressing close, he stabbed his wet, slick tongue, which tasted of stale alcohol and the spicy Thai food they had been eating, down Kerov’s throat. The sickly-sweet odor of his personal scent enveloped them in a musty cloud and suddenly Kerov felt his stomach heave. Before he could even think of pulling away, everything came up in a sudden, loose rush—the alcohol, the Thai food, and much of the lunch he’d forced down as well, including the slimy, green avocado chunks. Unable to help himself, Kerov let it all fly…and it went directly into Ramlow’s open mouth. “Arrgh!” Ramlow jerked back, gagging and pawing frantically at his mouth and tongue. “Oh my God, what’s wrong with you? You puked in my fucking mouth!” “Forgive me,” Kerov said—or started to say. Actually, he didn’t get past “Forgive” before another heaving wave of nausea took him and his gut clenched again. This time the jet of vomit went directly into Ramlow’s lap, covering the expensive, tailored tros he was wearing.

“Ahh!” The other male jumped up, puke running down his pants legs. “What the hell? I came here for a romantic evening and this is what I get?” “You got…” Kerov swiped at his mouth. With some of the alcohol out of his system, he was feeling more coherent, albeit still miserably sick. “Got what you deserved,” he rasped. “You were trying…trying to take advantage.” “I was only taking what you offered me.” Still dripping vomit, Ramlow looked both disgusted and offended. “We had a deal—you wanted the TA job—I wanted you. I thought you understood that, sca.” “That asshole! Hijo de puta!” Frankie spat inside Kerov’s head, so angry she was nearly incoherent. “How dare he act like I would trade my ass for his miserable job? What kind of girl does he think I am?” “The kind that’s going to be sick again,” Kerov muttered, feeling his stomach roll once more. “Not again!” Ramlow jumped back but a generous splatter of vomit still got on his expensive looking footwear. “This is disgusting—I’m leaving now.” “Fine. Go.” Kerov gestured at him. His stomach was finally beginning to feel lighter—as though it had ejected everything it could and was blissfully empty— but he was glad to have an excuse to get rid of the other male. “Go now before I’m sick again.” His words rushed Ramlow out the door. Kerov heard the rapid sound of footsteps and then the banging sound of the front door of the domicile being slammed open and shut. Mercifully, he and Frankie were finally alone.

Twelve

“Well, I guess I can kiss that TA job goodbye,” Frankie remarked, as the door slammed behind Professor Ramlow. “Sorry,” Kerov muttered, his voice sounding hoarse—her own voice, Frankie realized. Actually, he sounded like she did after a bad case of strep throat. “It wasn’t your fault,” she told him soothingly. Poor guy—he’d just been horribly sick and here she was worried about a stupid job. Not that she was ever going to get it in the first place—clearly Todd Ramlow had just used it as a lure, thinking he could get her to sleep with him. That cabeza de pinga! “It was my fault. I lost you two jobs today.” Kerov straightened up, wiping his mouth on the back of his forearm. No, Frankie reminded herself, he was wiping her mouth on the back of her arm. Dios, she didn’t like this! Didn’t like not being in charge of her own body! Although at least she hadn’t felt the nausea when he puked—she wondered why not. “Don’t worry about it,” Frankie told him. “Look, why don’t you just go wash out your mouth—my mouth—it tastes terrible!” That part of the puke storm she was unfortunately party to. “Tastes almost as bad as when it went down,” Kerov muttered. Before shuffling towards the bathroom, he rolled up the fuzzy rug by the side of her bed and put it in the dirty clothes hamper along with her stained coverlet. “Gods, the food on your planet is terrible,” he remarked when he was finally done. At least putting away the vomit-stained linens had taken care of the sour smell in the room. “I wasn’t too excited about the food you had at your place either,” Frankie reminded him as he finally made his way to the bathroom. “And besides, anything you puke up is going to taste awful. I wish you would have listened to me about the alcohol—I just can’t understand why it didn’t affect me even though it affected you.” “Something to do with the Switch, I think. The one who jumps or switches into the host bears the brunt of any foreign substances he or she ingests. I think it’s supposed to stop any abuse from happening to the host body.” Kerov rinsed his

mouth thoroughly in the sink and then took a long drink. “Ah…that’s better. I’m beginning to feel more like myself.” He raised up and looked in the mirror. “Although I certainly don’t look like myself,” he said wryly. Frankie found it almost unbearably odd to see her lips move and hear words coming out that she hadn’t thought of to say. “Look away,” she begged. “It’s weird to see myself in the mirror but hear your thoughts coming out of my mouth.” “Fine.” Kerov stepped away from the mirror and then looked down at himself and winced. “Uh…I’m afraid your little dress of black may be ruined, Frankie,” he told her. Frankie grimaced as she saw the splatter of vomit on the front of her favorite dress. “And here I thought it all went on Todd. Never mind—I can get it dry cleaned. In the meantime, why don’t we take a shower?” “My thoughts exactly.” Kerov turned to stare at the toilet and then at the ceiling above it. “But where is your water nozzle?” “If you’re looking for some horrible water-boarding plastic baggie forget it,” Frankie told him. “We have normal showers here.” She instructed Kerov how to pull back the shower curtain and twist the knobs to get the water temperature just right. Then, when steam was rising from the shower, she nodded mentally with satisfaction. “There you go—just step right in.” “Like this?” Kerov looked down—he was still dressed. “No, of course not. You have to get naked,” Frankie told him. Then she ed that it was her body she was telling him to get naked and felt a blush creep into her cheeks—or Kerov’s cheeks now, she guessed. “Uh, I mean, you have to get undressed.” “With pleasure,” Kerov murmured. “But I didn’t know how you’d feel about it.”

“Normally I would probably be upset about it,” Frankie itted. “But, well… given the circumstances I don’t think we have any choice. Just…try not to stare, okay?” “I will do my best,” Kerov promised gravely. He pulled off her little black dress and the panties she had on under it but seemed to have difficulty with the bra. Frankie ed he’d had a hard time putting it on too. In fact, in the end she had told him just to fasten it and then slip it over his head, even though she hated doing that—it wore out the elastic. In the end, he had to take it off the same way. Finally he…no she…no they Frankie finally decided, were naked and standing in the shower. “All right—now what? Where are the scrubbing appendages?” He looked at the shower head as though he expected the long purple tentacles to shoot out of it and start scrubbing. “We don’t have those here,” Frankie told him. “You have to use a scrubbie puff.” “A what?” Kerov looked around the small bathtub and shower, clearly mystified. “It’s a big puffy thing you put liquid soap on. It makes lots of foam and bubbles and exfoliates while you scrub,” Frankie instructed him. “Mine is just over there, or, no…oh, crap.” For she suddenly ed that she’d thrown away her last puff, which had been getting ragged, with the intention of buying a new one. Unfortunately, she hadn’t gotten around to it yet. “Is this the liquid soap?” He picked up a bottle of Frankie’s favorite Warm Vanilla Sugar shower gel from Bath and Body Works. “Yes, that’s it.” Frankie sighed. “But I don’t see the puff thing you were talking about.” “That’s because I threw it away and forgot to buy a new one. I guess…” Mentally, she bit her lip. “I guess you’ll have to just use your hands—my hands, I mean.”

Kerov raised his eyebrows in surprise—Frankie could feel it. “And you don’t mind that? Don’t mind me…touching your body?” “Well, I mean, technically it’s my hands doing the touching. And it’s not like I’ve never, uh, washed myself before,” Frankie said. She was aware that she was rationalizing a bit but they had to get clean somehow. And besides, she felt like she knew Kerov—he was an honorable guy. She could trust him not to take advantage. Then she had a new thought. “Um, do you mind, though? I mean, is it not done on your planet?” “If by ‘it’ you mean touching a female all over her naked body, it certainly isn’t. But I do not mind a bit,” Kerov assured her. Mentally, Frankie took a deep breath. “All right then—squeeze some of the body wash into your hands and go for it,” she instructed. “As you wish,” Kerov murmured. He squeezed out a generous dollop of the Warm Vanilla Sugar gel and lathered it between his palms before he started rubbing them up and down his upper arms. No wait—he’s rubbing my hands over my arms, Frankie reminded herself. Dios, this was confusing! She could see why Kerov had felt so disoriented when she had taken over his body while he was still in it. But all thoughts of which pronoun was correct and whose body parts were touching whose were soon wiped from her mind as Kerov continued to wash her in a slow, steady, deliberate way that made her feel breathless, even though she wasn’t technically the one breathing with her lungs. He started with her arms—a safe area—but soon he moved down to her belly and then her thighs and calves. Frankie was okay with all this—she had a fairly toned tummy from doing so much planking in yoga. But when Kerov came back up and began rubbing body wash over her too-generous hips she felt herself stiffen uncomfortably inside. Then, even worse, he moved around to caress her way-too-large ass. “Hey, what are you doing?” she protested as he rubbed slow circles around her full buttocks. “Why are you grabbing my ass?”

“I’m not grabbing it—just washing it,” Kerov protested. “But I’m sorry if I offended you. Do you find this too…” He cleared his throat. “Too sexual?” “No, too large,” Frankie said. “I mean…” She paused, feeling self-conscious. “I just have kind of a, uh, big butt and I’m sensitive about it. Especially since I know you don’t like that. So you don’t have to, uh, wash me there if you don’t want to.” Kerov made a surprised sounding noise in the back of his throat. “What makes you think I do not like your posterior?” “Well, I mean it’s obvious—look at Xirnah. She was your ideal and she had the boniest ass I’ve ever seen.” “Yes, she did,” Kerov acknowledged. “But that does not mean a…” He coughed. “A boney posterior is the only kind I ire.” “You’re saying you like a girl with a juicy booty?” Frankie was skeptical. As far as she’d been able to tell, every girl on his home planet was skinny as a skeleton. Why would he ever want anything else when that was what he was used to? “To be honest, I’ve never had the privilege of being with a female who had a ‘juicy booty’,” Kerov said. “But I find yours…intriguing to say the least. And I do not mind washing you there. In fact, at the risk of offending you, I rather…” He cleared his throat again. “Rather enjoy it. And I’d like to enjoy it more.” “Oh, well…” Frankie wasn’t sure how to take that. But she felt at least a little of her self-consciousness fading. “Um, enjoy it how?” “I’d like to explore you,” Kerov told her in a low, soft voice that was somehow masculine even though it was coming from her own mouth. “I’ve never been with a female with such lush endowments.” “Well…” Frankie bit her lip. “All right then—as long as you’re careful not to, you know, go too far.” “How far is too far?” Kerov murmured, sliding his fingers teasingly down the curves of her ass. For a moment Frankie thought he was going to let them slip between her cheeks and indeed, he was very close.

“Careful,” she whispered. “But I have to wash you,” Kerov reminded her softly. And then his fingers did slip inside, caressing gently over her tightly puckered rosebud, making Frankie jump and moan. “Kerov!” she gasped. “Sorry, are you too sensitive there?” he murmured, letting his fingers slide away. “I noticed earlier how sensitive you are in other areas.” “What…what areas?” To Frankie, her mental voice sounded breathless. “These areas.” Kerov cupped her breasts and gently circled her nipples with his thumbs. Frankie bit back a moan—Dios, that felt good! Even though she knew it was actually her own hands cupping her breasts, it didn’t feel like that. It felt almost like he was in the shower with her. “Very sensitive,” Kerov murmured and plucked gently at her tight peaks, making her almost groan as sparks of pleasure shot from her nipples straight to her throbbing pussy. “Kerov…” she protested, but despite the Catholic guilt nibbling at the edges of her mind, she didn’t exactly want him to stop. After all, I’m doing it to myself. It’s not like he’s really touching me, she reminded herself. But that thought brought a mental image of Kerov standing with her in the shower, his big, well-shaped hands running all over her naked body. He was standing behind her, the muscular wall of his chest at her back, and he was so close she could feel the massive shaft between his long legs branding the small of her back as he washed her up and down with long, slow strokes… “Mmm…is that what you’d like, shalla?” Kerov murmured, his hands slipping even lower. For just a moment she thought she felt his fingertips teasing along the cleft of her incredibly sensitive, freshly waxed pussy. To her mortification, Frankie realized that she’d somehow sent him the X-rated picture through the strange link they shared. Guilt overwhelmed her and she

suddenly wanted to put a halt to all this. “No,” she protested breathlessly. “No, I…I don’t want this. In fact, I think it’s time for this shower to be over.” “As you wish.” Kerov withdrew his hands at once. He rinsed away the soapy body wash in a businesslike way and turned off the shower. Then he wrapped up in a towel so fast Frankie could hardly believe it. Before she knew it, they were getting out of the tub. Though he was only doing what she had requested, Frankie couldn’t help feeling disappointed. It was like they had started eating a meal together—a meal she was incredibly hungry for—and then, before she had even begun to be satisfied, they had stopped. Maybe that was the reason she had him choose her skimpiest nighty when he looked into her dresser for something to wear to bed. “That one,” she told him, as his hand hesitated over the black lace teddy. She’d gotten it as a gift from some well-meaning girlfriend who was trying to help her spice up her love life. However, shortly after getting it, she had served Carlos with the divorce papers so the sexy little set never got worn. Frankie had been saving it for a special occasion. On impulse she decided to wear it tonight. After all—what was more special than spending the night with the new guy in your life? Granted, said guy was literally all in her head but still… “This little bit of nothing?” Kerov took it out and held it up by the fragile lacey spaghetti straps. “What’s wrong? You don’t like it?” Frankie challenged him. “It just…doesn’t seem like it will cover much. But if this is what you wish to wear…” He shrugged and slipped out of the towel. With a little direction from Frankie, he managed to put on the teddy which tied in the front between her breasts and ended just at her hips. Then he looked down at her body, clad in the black lace garment. “Do you like it?” Frankie couldn’t help asking. “It’s very…revealing. I can see your nipples.” He gestured at the black lace

which barely covered her thrusting breasts. The tight brown points of her nipples were pressed hard against the black lace and were, indeed, clearly visible. “That’s just the way it’s made,” Frankie said, feeling both uncomfortable and sexy at the same time—a strange combination. “I can see your pussy too,” Kerov informed her in a low voice. Looking further down, Frankie could see it was true. The bare mound of her pussy was visible beneath the hem of the black lace teddy. It still looked slightly pink from the earlier wax job Kerov had endured on her behalf and the outer lips were swollen and puffy though she didn’t know why. “There are panties that go with it,” she told him, thinking that her mental voice didn’t sound exactly steady. “You can, uh, put them on.” “All right.” Kerov stepped into the tiny black lace panties that went with the teddy but the moment he pulled them up over her hips to settle them in place, both of them jumped and made exclamations of surprise and pain. “Ouch!” Frankie complained. “That hurts!” “Maybe because this area is still irritated from the torture session with Helga and the hot wax.” Kerov sounded grim. “And because these undergarments are made of more abrasive material than the others.” “Wait—I know what we need!” If Frankie could have snapped her fingers she would have. “Didn’t they give you any kind of lotion to use for afterwards? After the waxing, I mean?” “I exited the building in a great hurry,” Kerov growled. “They did not have time to give me anything.” “Well, never mind. I think I still have some left over from the last time I had my legs waxed.” With a little help from her, Kerov found the half-empty bottle in her medicine cabinet. He looked at it, frowning. “Silky Skin—what’s this?”

“It’s a special kind of soothing oil you rub on the area that’s just been waxed. I don’t know why I didn’t think of it earlier,” Frankie told him. “And…” Kerov cleared his throat. “You want me to…to rub this into your mound?” “Well, I mean if you’d rather not do it…” “No,” he said quickly. “No, I…don’t mind at all.” He started to unscrew the cap but Frankie stopped him. “Maybe…maybe it would work better if we laid down first—you think?” “Oh. Certainly.” He took the bottle back into her bedroom and lay down on her bed. Frankie was glad they had cleaned up the mess earlier. Her bed looked naked minus her coverlet but at least her sheets were neat and clean. The scent of air freshener she’d had him spray after he bundled everything into the hamper still hung faintly in the air. “Now.” Kerov looked down at the half full bottle of soothing oil. “How do we begin?” “I don’t know…” Frankie felt suddenly shy. “Just…put some on your fingertips and, uh, rub it in, I guess.” “Should I rub it everywhere it feels sensitive?” he asked in a low voice, tipping the bottle to capture some of its contents on his fingertips. “Yes…yes, I guess so.” “All right.” Moving slowly, he put his hand between her thighs and began to caress her sensitive, bare mound, covering it with the soothing oil. The sensation drew a moan of relief from both of them. Frankie hadn’t realized just how raw this area had felt until she got some relief from the pain. She wondered how she could have gotten through the entire evening feeling so irritated. Probably she had been too busy concentrating on other things—like the disastrous dinner date with Ramlow—to notice.

“Don’t think about that now,” Kerov murmured to her and she realized he had caught her thought—or more likely the image of Todd Ramlow in her head. “Concentrate on the here and now. Tell me…tell me where to touch you. How you need to be caressed.” Frankie caught her breath at the soft, sensual words and then she saw the image he was sending with them. She could see the two of them in bed together, Kerov’s big, muscular body bending over hers as he cradled her shoulders with one arm. With the other hand, he was reaching down to cup her pussy. Instinctively, it seemed, she was spreading her thighs for him. His fingers were gentle as he stroked over the outer lips of her pussy, tracing her slit as he looked into her eyes. “Is this good, shalla?” he murmured. “Is this how you like to be touched?” “What…what does ‘shalla’ mean?” Frankie whispered breathlessly, caught up completely in the fantasy. “It’s a term of endearment on my planet—it means ‘beautiful one,’” Kerov murmured. “And you are, you know, Frankie—very beautiful.” “I’m not your type,” she protested softly. “You’re different from every other female I’ve ever known,” he told her. “But that doesn’t mean you aren’t my ‘type’ or that I don’t find you extremely lovely.” “You don’t have to sweet talk me, baby,” Frankie pointed out, laughing a little. “You’ve already got your hand between my legs. Or…my hand, anyway.” “I wish it was my hand,” Kerov told her. In her mind’s eye, she could still see him leaning over her, holding her eyes with that intense pale gray gaze of his. “I want to touch you for myself…want to explore you and feel your soft folds on my fingertips.” “Do you really?” Though she still felt a little bit guilty, Frankie found that pleasure was overcoming her inhibitions. In her mind’s eye, she saw herself spreading her thighs more for him and arching her back. “Then go ahead.” Do you really mean it?” Kerov asked in a low voice. “You’ll let me touch you? Pleasure you? No other female has ever allowed me to do such a thing. On

Tarsia it is forbidden.” “It’s not forbidden here,” Frankie assured him breathlessly. “It…it’s okay. I trust you. And besides, it’s not really your hand—it’s mine you’re using.” “Wish I could use more than my hands,” Kerov growled softly and then he parted her swollen outer pussy lips and dipped his fingertips into the heated well of her inner pussy. Immediately Frankie felt a shock of surprise run through him. “What? What is it? What’s wrong?” she demanded. “Nothing’s wrong,” Kerov hastened to assure her. “It’s just…you’re so warm. Hot even!” “Oh—you mean between my legs?” Frankie nearly laughed. “Well yes—I told you we Earth girls were probably about the same body temperature as the Kindred.” “Yes, but I didn’t think…you’re even warmer than I fantasized.” “You…fantasized about me?” “How could I not? I’ve been in your beautiful body all day,” he murmured. Gently, he stroked her inner folds, his fingertips finding the throbbing button of her clit and circling it slowly. “So warm,” he marveled again. “And so wet and hot and smooth…” “Ah!” Frankie gasped with pleasure. “Well I can thank you for the smooth part,” she reminded him as he stroked her again. “Ah, Dios! I mean I…I would never have kept that waxing appointment myself. Oh, Kerov…that feels so good!” “Like this?” He circled her clit again and then stroked lower, teasingly pressing just the tips of his fingers into her slippery entrance. “Gods, shalla. Your soft little pussy feels like it’s very tight.”

“Do…do you want to find out how tight I am?” Frankie couldn’t believe the dirty talk coming out of her mouth. But Kerov just seemed to bring it out in her. Also, she reminded herself again that he wasn’t actually touching her—it was her own hand bringing her all this pleasure. Still, in her mind’s eye she still saw him leaning over her, caressing her with his big, warm hands as he kissed her and looked into her eyes… “You know I do,” Kerov muttered hoarsely. “But first let me make you come. Will you let me do that, Frankie? Will you let me stroke your soft little cunt until you come for me?” “Yes…Dios, yes!” she moaned, giving in completely. “Good.” Kerov went to work on her again, exploring her pussy with gentle fingers, stroking and caressing, finding just the right way to touch her. Then he put just the pad of his middle finger to the side of her swollen clit and began to slide it back and forth in a light, steady caress. Frankie cried out as he touched her, wishing she could arch her back and lift her hips for more. Kerov seemed to know what she needed though—he made the motions for her. “That’s right, shalla,” he murmured softly. “That’s right, just open up and let me touch you. Just spread your sweet little pussy and let me make you come…” “Oh…Oh!” Frankie gasped as her pleasure peaked and the orgasm finally washed over her. “Oh Dios, Kerov!” But the big Kindred wasn’t done with her yet. Sliding lower, he let two fingers slip into her tight entrance and press deep, to the end of her channel. Frankie cried out, unable to help herself, as he fucked into her, the two fingers riding deep to make her pleasure even greater. “I wish it was more than just fingers,” Kerov said again in a low, hungry voice. And then she had a vision of him down between her thighs, his mouth pressed hard against her pussy as his hot tongue slid deeply into the well of her cunt, tasting her honey, tongue-fucking her, making her moan…

“Oh! Madre de Dios!” she gasped. “I thought…thought that wasn’t allowed where you’re from!” “It’s not,” he growled and then, in the image, he pulled her closer, lashing her clit with his tongue and lapping her cunt to catch every last drop of her juices as she moaned and writhed under him. Frankie cried out as her pleasure peaked again. She knew that technically she was just touching herself but it didn’t feel that way. Never had she had such intense pleasure while simply masturbating. Never had she felt the intensity of emotions she experienced now with Kerov inside her as he touched her and brought her to the edge. It was almost too much. For a moment she felt like her heart might pound its way right out of her body. Then, slowly, the pleasure began to fade. “Oh…” she whispered as her breathing began to even out again. She felt her body relax, completely limp against the mattress. “That…was amazing,” Kerov confessed softly. “Your body…it’s so complex! The pleasure you experience is so nuanced…so intense.” “Well, to be fair, it’s not always like that,” Frankie told him. “I mean when I, you know, come.” “Is it different when you are with a male? Making love?” he asked curiously. “Much different,” Frankie said wryly. “Of course I’ve only been with Carlos so I can’t really compare. But it was never like this with him.” “He didn’t take the time to pleasure you properly.” Kerov sounded disapproving. “I saw it in your memories—he only cared about his own satisfaction.” “Hey now, don’t go digging around in private areas,” Frankie protested, embarrassed. She didn’t want anyone knowing exactly how unsatisfying her pitiful excuse for a love life had been with her ex. “Forgive me. I will try not to pry in the future. Are you angry with me?”

“You know I’m not. How could I be angry after you gave me two incredible orgasms?” Frankie sighed contentedly. “That really was amazing, you know? It was different from anything I’ve ever felt.” “I felt the same way about the release I experienced when you were in my body touching my shaft,” he itted. “I’ve never felt pleasure so intense. I wonder if it has to do with the Switch?” “Maybe.” Mentally, she yawned. “Speaking of that, do you have any idea how we’re going to switch back?” “No, but I’m still thinking about it,” he promised. “There are some people I could ask…but I’d rather not if I don’t have to.” “Why, who are they? Are they dangerous or something?” She yawned again. “Are you…scared of them?” “I’m more worried of what they will think of me if they know I’m able to Switch or Jump,” Kerov itted in a low voice. “I would rather not tell them except as a last resort.” “Well maybe you won’t have to.” Frankie felt herself drifting off. “Maybe this time when we go to sleep…we’ll be separated.” “Maybe.” She thought Kerov didn’t sound very happy about that. Frankly, she didn’t much like the idea herself. Though Switching in and out of each other’s bodies was pretty much the strangest thing she’d ever had happen to her, Frankie found she was growing fond of the big Kindred—even if she really wasn’t his type. “I’m not your type either—I know that,” he murmured, obviously catching her thought. Frankie wanted to protest and ask how he had heard her thoughts…but then sleep overwhelmed her and the world went dark. She woke only once, alone in her own bed and her own body. Kerov, she thought. I miss you… Then sleep claimed her again.

Thirteen

Kerov woke up and looked around. He was sleeping on a cot in the Commanders barracks, wearing his second best dress uniform which was extremely uncomfortable. He wanted to lift his hand and unbutton the tight collar…but he couldn’t. For some reason he was completely paralyzed. What in the Seven Hells? He felt a moment of pure panic and then he heard another voice—a familiar voice—in his head. “What’s going on?” It was Frankie. The moment Kerov felt her in him, relief washed over him. So he was back in his own body on Tarsia again Frankie was with him. “Frankie?” he thought at her. “Are you all right?” “I’m fine. Hey—we can talk mentally now! I wonder why?” “I’m not exactly sure,” Kerov itted. “Maybe our minds are beginning to connect because…” “Because why?” Frankie demanded and he knew he couldn’t put her off though he didn’t think she’d like the answer. “Because of the pleasure we’ve shared,” he itted. “It’s drawing us closer together—giving us a deeper connection.” “Oh.” She paused for a long time and Kerov wondered if she was upset. He knew how she felt about the Kindred—she probably wouldn’t want to get more deeply involved with him than she already was. “I’m sorry,” he said a bit gruffly. “A deeper connection was not my intention when I touched you last night. I simply wanted to bring you pleasure…and to feel your pleasure myself.” “Oh…of course.” Frankie sounded like she might be blushing. “But why weren’t we able to talk to each other mentally after the first time? When I, uh, you know, jerked you off?” “We weren’t close enough yet. But it did bring us closer,” Kerov said.

“, it was only after that first shared orgasm that we were able to access each other’s memories and minds. And it’s a good thing too—without access to your mind, I would have been unable to function in your body.” “Nice of you to it it,” Frankie said aloud. “And the same goes back to you double. There’s no way I could have ridden Ursa without seeing how you found her and raised her from a cub. That was amazing, you know—I never would have pegged you as an animal lover.” “I love working with animals,” Kerov itted. I would have chosen a career in that field if I could have.” “Why didn’t you?” Frankie asked, sounding curious. “Why pick the military instead?” “It was chosen for me,” Kerov said. “Here on Tarsia, we are not able to pick and choose our careers as you appear to be able to. We are given aptitude tests at a very young age and the State decides what is best for us.” “That’s bullshit!” Frankie exclaimed. “But if they did tests on you, couldn’t they tell you were good with animals?” “They could,” Kerov said. “But the tests also showed I had capabilities in strategy, weaponry, and in commanding others. And since Tarsia is under constant attack, I was sent into military service.” “Wait a minute—constant attack?” Frankie sat up in the cot, frowning. Kerov could feel his face making the expression even though he wasn’t making it himself. The sensation of his body doing something that someone else had ordered it to do was still disorientating, but not nearly as distressing as the first time he and Frankie had had an incomplete Switch. “What kind of attack?” Frankie asked, pulling him out of his thoughts. “Who’s attacking you?” “It is not a who but a ‘what’,” Kerov explained. “It’s a kind of alien parasite— we call it simply The Swarm.” “So like…insects?” She sent him mental pictures of many-legged creatures, some with wings and curving stingers at the ends of their abdomens.

“Not exactly.” Kerov tried to think how to explain it. “The Swarm is almost like a kind of rain—a deadly rain—which consists of millions of golden threads. They come through space—from a planet which orbits us like a moon. Every time its orbit takes it close enough, The Swarm senses our heat and light and comes for us, hungry to devour anything they can land on.” He sent her a picture, unfortunately one from memory, of a scarred and pitted landscape after The Swarm had ed. There were tiny, smoking black holes bored into everything the ravenous parasites had touched—including the bodies of fallen warriors. “So…it’s kind of like acid rain?” Frankie asked in a hushed voice. “I mean, it burns holes in everything it touches?” “Extremely hungry acid rain,” Kerov acknowledged. “It does not just fall randomly—the Swarm actively seeks out life, eager to destroy it. It is because we are in a constant state of war against it that the State controls and directs our lives. Only by giving control to a higher authority can we survive as a society.” “I don’t know if I believe that.” Frankie sounded skeptical. “The Swarm sounds awful but I don’t believe you should have to give up all your personal freedom to fight it. I mean, you ought to at least be free to choose your own career and who you spend your time with.” “Well, we are not,” Kerov said shortly. “And there is no use bemoaning the fact because some things do not change—especially on Tarsia.” “I guess not. So, The Swarm…how do you fight it?” she asked. “It sounds like you should just get out of the way and run for cover anytime it comes down.” Kerov gave a short, bitter laugh. “If we did that, there would be no plants or animals left on Tarsia. In very short order the surface of our planet would look like that of The Swarm’s—it would be completely overrun by the parasite.” “So the whole planet is just, well, swarming with it?” Frankie asked. “And there’s no way to kill it at the source?” “Not that we’ve found. Any weapon big enough to kill the entire Swarm would also affect our own planet—our orbits are too closely entwined,” Kerov said grimly. “The best we can do is to keep it from colonizing and engulfing Tarsia.”

“How do you do that?” “We use Incinerator units, mostly. We have to fly up into it on blade-wings and burn it from the sky before it reaches the ground.” He showed her a mental picture of a warrior riding on one of the flying war machines, wielding a flaming incinerator with one hand as he steered with the other. “That looks really dangerous!” Mentally, Kerov shrugged. “It must be done. Tarsia must be protected. Not just our cities and populated areas but the wildlands as well. That is how I found Ursa—after an un-forecasted Swarm had attacked one of our forests. Unfortunately, we got the call too late to save everything.” His chest felt tight at the memory of the smoking trees and lifeless creatures littering the forest floor. “I , I was on the ground by then, using a hand incinerator to kill any nests of swarm threads that had managed to survive. They will live for hours, looking for a host. When they find one, they eat until they literally burst and are no more. But it’s better to kill them before they reach a living thing and multiply.” “Madre de Dios, they sound awful!” Frankie exclaimed. “What a terrible way to die! So how did Ursa escape?” “She was sheltered by her mother.” Kerov couldn’t help ing the pitiful sight—the huge beast lying dead on the pitted ground—her carcass riddled with swarm-bores, most of them still smoking. At first he had thought there was nothing to do but torch the body in order to kill any remaining Swarm-threads. But then… “You heard a sound,” Frankie whispered and he knew she’d been seeing the scene with him—reliving the memory which was burned into his brain forever. “I did,” he acknowledged. It had been a soft, plaintive cry, as though from an animal in pain. Carefully he had lifted the mother’s massive body, being certain not to touch any live Swarm-threads. It had taken all his strength to lever the huge, smoking carcass up and out of the way. But the minute he had, a tiny, lavender cub had scrambled out from beneath the bulk.

Kerov had waited but there didn’t seem to be any more—just the one. The little creature went at once to its mother’s head and began poking her with its nose. When she didn’t move or return the gesture, its crying intensified until it was almost howling with terror and loss. “So you decided to take it home?” Frankie asked. “The equivalent of a grizzly bear and you just decided to keep it for a pet?” “Not at first,” Kerov said. “I had intended to take it to the shelter for orphaned creatures. We have them all over Tarsia as Swarm-deaths are not uncommon. I knew the local shelter well because it was the place I had wished to work since I was a young child.” He ed how it was, picking up the tiny pale purple cub. Whispering, “It’s all right, little one. I know…I know but it’s going to be all right.” Kerov had been intending to take the cub directly to the shelter. But it had cuddled against his chest, shivering and keening its loss. “You’re cold, aren’t you?” he had murmured to the cub. Bereft of her mother’s warmth, Ursa was seeking shelter and safety. Blindly, she pushed her little pointed snout against his chest, still crying that soft, keening wail. Kerov had looked around to see no one was watching. Then, feeling a little foolish, he had opened the magnotabs that held his shirt together and thrust the shivering little bundle of fur inside. Once she felt the warmth of his skin, Ursa had finally quieted. Cuddling against his chest with her little sharp claws poking him and her nose cold against his chest, she slept. Kerov sighed. “And there she stayed. For when it came time to take her to the shelter, I found I couldn’t do it. She had already bonded with me and I with her. I kept her and raised her until she got too big for life in my domicile. Then I moved her to the stables and she’s been there ever since.” Frankie sniffed deeply. “That’s such a sweet, sad story,” she murmured and Kerov felt the sting of tears in his eyes. “Are you crying?” he asked, uncertain how he felt about it.

“Not nearly as much as I want to. I feel like if you would have told me that story while I was in my own body I would be bawling right now,” Frankie itted. “Those kinds of stories always get to me—I can’t even watch the commercials for the ASPCA back home. That’s our animal shelter back on Earth,” she added, explaining. “But somehow when I’m in your body, it’s not quite as easy to cry for some reason.” “I found the opposite to be true while I was in your body,” Kerov said thoughtfully. “Tears came even when I did not want or expect them. It’s almost as if your emotions are closer to the surface than mine.” “Do you think it’s a male and female thing? Or an Earthling and Kindred thing?” Frankie asked. “I don’t know. Maybe a bit of both?” “Maybe. Anyway, what made you cry?” she asked. “Did you turn on the TV and see one of those sad commercials? I tell you, they just rip my heart out!” She hummed for a moment and then sang softly, “In the arms of the angels—Oh! No, I can’t even sing the song without tearing up!” She sniffed deeply. Kerov felt suddenly uncomfortable, ing what had brought tears to his eyes while he was in Frankie’s body. It was the information her friend, Lacy, had unwittingly shared—the fact that Frankie didn’t like the Kindred and wanted nothing to do with them—especially being mated to one. “Kerov?” Frankie asked and he knew she was waiting for an answer. But he couldn’t tell her the truth—couldn’t tell her that no matter how he was beginning to feel for her, he knew she could never return those emotions. “It was nothing,” he said gruffly. “A commercial—as you said.” “Oh, okay. Sorry.” She sounded slightly offended at his abrupt tone but Kerov couldn’t help it—he wanted to keep his knowledge of her true feelings towards his kind to himself. Anyway, it wasn’t like they could ever be together. Even if they hadn’t lived galaxies apart, the State would never sanction such a union. Being life-bonded to a female he truly cared about would certainly have interfered with his career performance as a Battalion Commander.

Those in authority would point out that such a relationship would make him care too much about his own life and be unwilling to risk himself in battle. And they would almost certainly be right. Kerov couldn’t imagine having the kind of reckless disregard for his own safety it took to fight The Swarm if he knew he had a soft, curvy, beautiful female like Frankie to come home to after the battle. No, far better to keep his feelings to himself since nothing could ever come of them. “Anyway,” Frankie said, cutting into his dark thoughts. “What are we going to do? I thought you said you had some people you could talk to about the whole Switching thing. Do you think maybe it’s time to ask them for help?” “I don’t—” Kerov began but just then the door to the Commanders’ barracks burst open and Jorn rushed in. “There you are!” he exclaimed breathlessly. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere, Kerov! Don’t you know the banquet is about to begin? We’re expected at Brigadier Tlox’s table in less than ten meems and look at you! You look like you just woke up!” Kerov felt Frankie gathering herself, getting ready to “be” him as much as possible. “I, uh…must have taken a nap after the review,” she said, straightening up and making his voice sound deep and authoritative. “But I didn’t mean to sleep so long—I just woke up.” “Oh? Then who were you talking to?” Jorn frowned. “I could have sworn I heard a conversation going on in here. And why are your eyes red?” Kerov bit back a curse. Had Jorn heard Frankie talking about their Switch? If so, they could be in deep trouble. He liked his friend and trusted him—to a point. But there was something about Jorn—something that Kerov sensed he was holding back. He didn’t feel he could put complete confidence in his friend when he wasn’t sure what that was. Switching was equivalent to treason against The State and Jorn might not be willing to hide treasonous activity from those in authority—not even to shelter his friend. “Oh, I…must have been talking in my sleep,” Frankie said gruffly. “I had the

damndest dreams…” She rubbed her eyes. “Nightmares, really.” “Well, whatever you were dreaming, the reality is going to be much, much worse if we don’t get to the banquet in time. Now hurry—get up and get changed into your dress uniform!” Thankfully, Frankie had brought the uniform from home. With a little help from Kerov, she was able to change into it fairly quickly. But there appeared to be something missing. “My chunnel—where is it?” Kerov said just as Jorn demanded, “Where is your chunnel?” “What?” Frankie asked. Then, clearly ing that they could communicate via thoughts she added mentally, “What in the hell is a chunnel?” “A head covering used only for special occasions. No dress uniform is complete without one.” Kerov sent her a mental picture. “Oh—you mean the weird, tall metal hat I saw the top Brass wearing at the review? I didn’t know you even had one of those.” “Well I do but apparently it’s back home at my domicile.” Kerov felt his heart sink. There was no way he could appear at the General’s banquet without his chunnel. It would be almost as bad as appearing without his tros—a grave breech of etiquette and a shame he would never live down. “Wow—that’s a lot to pin on a shiny metal hat,” Frankie muttered to him mentally. “What’s going on? Why are you just standing there? Are you talking to yourself?” Jorn demanded, breaking in. “Where is your chunnel?” “I was just…trying to think where I left it.” Frankie sounded desperate. “And anyway, where is yours at?” “Out in my vehicle of course!” Jorn looked impatient. “Kerov, if you make us late…”

“I left it at home, okay?” Frankie exclaimed. “So…do you have a spare one I can borrow?” “A spare one?” Jorn looked at her as if she was crazy. “You can’t ask him that!” Kerov growled. “What? Why not?” “Because each warrior is assigned only one chunnel and it’s a very private and personal part of the uniform. Asking to wear another male’s chunnel is akin to asking to wear his undergarments.” “Seriously? I can’t believe this!” Frankie was looking around, wildly. “I don’t have mine,” she said to Jorn. “What can I do? I don’t suppose I can skip the banquet, can I?” “After being personally invited by Brigadier Tlox himself? Hardly! Look—” Jorn ran across the room and seized something from a high shelf. “Use Slubgum’s. He left it here after being demoted for losing the battle over the Verda Quadrant.” “Ugh!” Kerov exclaimed involuntarily. The former Commander Slubgum had been a slovenly, inefficient male who had deserved to lose his post. The thought of wearing any male’s chunnel—especially Slubgum’s—was revolting. “I know…I know it’s disgusting,” Jorn said, bringing the long, tall, shiny chunnel and pressing it into Frankie’s hands. “But you have no choice. We don’t have time to go back to your quarters for yours and you can’t attend the banquet without one. Just put it on and you can set your cleansing nozzle for disinfect when you shower tonight.” “Um, okay,” Frankie said, taking it from him. “I, uh, don’t like it but I guess you’re right—there’s no choice.” Jorn looked both surprised and relieved. “Thought you’d put up a bigger fight than that.” “I certainly would have! I have no wish to wear Slubgum’s chunnel!” Kerov protested. “We don’t even know if he cleaned it recently! There could be…

residue.” “Too bad—you’re wearing it. Or I am, anyway,” Frankie told him firmly. “Now come on—we don’t want to be late to the ball.” “The banquet,” Kerov corrected her but she was already on her way out of the barracks, following Jorn at a run down the hall with the filthy, disgusting chunnel tucked under one arm of his immaculate dress uniform.

Frankie was glad that Jorn was driving again—not that they had far to drive. The place the banquet was being held was apparently just on the other side of the military base. Kerov’s friend gunned the engine of his big tank-like vehicle and they roared off into the twilight. Almost before Frankie knew it, they were parking in front of a vast black stone structure with red lettering across the front of it. “The Ministry of War,” Frankie read to herself. “Hey—I can read now! In your language, I mean,” she told Kerov excitedly. “It must be the whole mindmeshing thing you were talking about.” “Wonderful.” He still sounded extremely pissed that she was making him wear another man’s chunnel. Well, he was just going to have to get over it, Frankie decided. After all, it was ridiculous to treat a hat—especially a metal hat—like it was a pair of underwear. And what was he talking about when he said there might be “residue?” She could see him getting upset if the thing was a baseball cap and the previous owner had sweated all over it but metal should be fairly hygienic, shouldn’t it? Hygienic or not, what it mostly was, was heavy. As she and Jorn ran up the broad steps that led to the Ministry of War, Frankie fumbled to put it on, thinking that it had to weigh twenty-five pounds at least. She was going to have such a headache if this banquet went on too long—she was basically balancing the weight of a medium-sized dog on her head and it hurt. There was a black chin strap which was inexplicably studded with very sharp red stones which helped to hold the chunnel in place but even so it was much too large for Kerov’s head. Though Frankie tightened the strap until it felt like it was cutting into her flesh, the tall, heavy chunnel still had a tendency to slip and slide all over her head unless she walked very straight and tall. Of course, this was almost impossible since they were practically running down the long, black marble hallway to the banquet hall, so Frankie just kept one hand to her head to keep the heavy hat from slipping off. “You’re making me look ridiculous,” Kerov complained. “A proper chunnel should stay in place at all times no matter what the circumstances.”

“Well, I can’t help it that you guys picked such ridiculous dress clothes!” Frankie sent back. “Oh? Like a chunnel is any more ridiculous than those strange high shoes your people wear?” he demanded, sending a picture of the high heels that went with her bridesmaid’s dress back home. Frankie was about to answer that at least she didn’t have to balance the shoes on her head but just then she and Jorn arrived at the entrance to the banquet hall. It was a vast set of double doors at least three times as tall as Kerov. The doors were some dull silver metal and there were brilliantly colored images carved into them. Frankie scanned them quickly—in the upper left hand corner of the first door was a round, moon-like planet. The surface of it was teaming with what looked like a golden, writhing mass of snakes or eels. They were shooting off its surface and raining down on a much larger planet below which must be Tarsia. Standing on the surface of the larger planet were warriors—all tall with white-blond hair and narrow shoulders. They held what looked like flamethrowers in their hands and were torching the golden threads out of the sky. Clearly it was a typical battle with The Swarm—the alien parasites Kerov had told her about. But why weren’t there any Kindred represented on the mural? All the soldiers she could see looked like Jorn—completely Tarsian. Weren’t there any other warriors that looked like Kerov? “There are hardly any full blooded Kindred left on Tarsia,” Kerov answered her question, which must have gone through their new link. “The State has interbred us with the Tarsians as much as possible in order to get rid of the Switching gene. And the reason my people are not represented on the door is that we are not greatly esteemed here.” “But you fight the Swarm as hard as any of them!” Frankie protested. “That’s not fair!” “That is the way things are and have been for hundreds of years. The Kindred are a minority here—a reviled race. Many females do not wish to be with a Kindred male at all.” Was there a faint bitterness in his voice? Frankie felt a sudden stab of guilt.

Hadn’t she said something along those lines to Lacy—that she would die if she was called as a Kindred bride? That she wanted nothing to do with them? But that was before she’d gotten to know Kerov, before she’d come to understand what a Kindred warrior could really be like…honorable and kind and good with animals… “The Kindred are second class citizens here on Tarsia. The fact that I am invited to this banquet with a possible promotion on the table is a minor miracle,” Kerov informed her, breaking her guilty train of thought. “All right. Well I’ll try really hard not to screw it up for you,” Frankie promised. Just then the vast doors swung open and a guard in an immaculate scarlet and gray uniform stepped forward. “How may I announce you?” he demanded, looking first at Jorn and then at Frankie. “Battalion Commanders Berex and Volx here at the behest of Brigadier Tlox,” Jorn answered promptly. The guard turned to the banquet hall and bellowed their names in a voice that echoed through the cavernous space. The enormous room had black marble floors and white marble walls and looked large enough to hold about a hundred long tables although only three were set up at the far end. Before the echoes of the guard’s voice had faded, a tall, cadaverously thin man with white hair and dark purple eyes came forward to greet them. “Ah, Jorn…Kerov, I’m glad you’re here at last.” He frowned at the way Frankie still had one hand to her head, trying to hold the chunnel in place. Quickly, Frankie snatched her hand away and attempted to look normal. “Oh, ah…” she began, unsure what to say. “Brigadier Tlox—that’s Brigadier Tlox,” Kerov prompted her. “We’re both glad and grateful to be here, Sir,” Jorn said, before Frankie could frame any more words. “Truly it is a privilege and an honor.”

“Yes, yes—an honor,” Frankie echoed, hoping it was the right thing to say. “Well, you’ve both earned it.” Tlox gave them a short, curt bow which Jorn imitated at once. Quickly, Frankie bowed as well but to her horror, she felt the heavy chunnel sliding off her head. She grabbed for it with one hand and straightened up, narrowly avoiding disaster. Whew—that had been close! “This is what comes of wearing another male’s chunnel,” Kerov remarked darkly as she and Jorn followed Tlox back to the middle table. “We didn’t have a choice!” Frankie reminded him. Really, this whole chunnel debate was getting old! “Now, Jorn, you’re sitting at my left hand,” the Brigadier told them as they reached the long table which was covered with a black cloth and laid with bright red cutlery. “And Kerov, you’re on my right. And to the left of General VonDoddle. So for pity’s sake, be on your best behavior and be careful during the pouring of the tears.” “Of course,” Frankie agreed quickly, though of course she had no idea what he was talking about. “I’m honored to sit by General Van-Doodle.” “Von-Doddle,” Tlox corrected her, scowling. “Commander Kerov, your chunnel is crooked.” He said it in the same way he might have told her that Kerov’s fly was unzipped and his shaft was hanging out. “Oh—excuse me!” Hastily, Frankie fixed the heavy hat, trying to ignore the soft swearing from Kerov in her mind. “That’s better.” Brigadier Tlox nodded, although his expression was still disapproving. “Let us take our seats before the General arrives.” “Of course.” Nodding, Frankie took the tall, angular seat which he indicated, making sure to keep her head and shoulders straight to avoid any more chunnelrelated wardrobe malfunctions. Sitting in this way made it difficult to survey the table in front of her but somehow she managed. To her dismay, the place setting in front of her looked incredibly complicated.

There was a large red plate, a smaller gold plate on top of that, and an even smaller black bowl which appeared to be filled with dark red jelly on top of that. Lying across the bowl was a tiny instrument like a triangular shovel with a short handle at its base. On one side of the plate was an array of cutlery which looked like sporks of various sizes. They ranged from a little one which was the size of Frankie’s pinky all the way up to the largest, which was as long as Kerov’s forearm. On the other side were several knives, one with one sharp edge, another with two, and one which actually had three which gave it a bizarre triangular kind of appearance. Frankie thought it looked like some weapon you might see the bad guy in a cheesy sci-fi show pull out for a fight. Most of the cutlery was bright, shiny red but lying at the top edge of the red plate was a long black metal rod with a curving corkscrew end that looked wickedly sharp. Frankie wondered uneasily what in the world it was for. Then again, what was any of it for? There were several glasses too—one looked like a square shot-glass except it was three times as tall as a regular shot glass back home. The other was long and low—almost rectangular-shaped—with a pour-spout in one corner. It looked like it might be made of stone. Frankie surveyed everything before her with deep misgivings. She’d only been to one really fancy restaurant—a place called The Kapok Tree—when Carlos had taken her years ago for their senior prom. There had been a lot of silverware and several glasses there too, but she hadn’t gotten a chance to use most of them. That was because her ex was too eager to get her up to the room he had rented and try to get under her prom dress to let her eat the entire dinner. Frankie had always regretted not getting to try the dessert which looked amazing when it came around on a little rolling cart. Now it looked like she was going to have a dinner that rivaled even the Kapok Tree for fanciness. But she had no idea what any of the utensils were or how to use them. “Don’t worry,” she heard Kerov murmur in her head. “I’ll tell you exactly how and when to use everything here. Just listen to my instructions and do everything I tell you.”

“All right—I’ll try.” Frankie felt another flash of gratitude that they were able to communicate telepathically now. There was no way she could have muttered to Kerov at this banquet—it was much too formal and there were too many people watching. Just then three, low, sonorous notes sounded and the guard at the door shouted, “His Eminence, General Von-Doddle, commander of the Tarsian Military, and Head of the Ministry of War.” There was a scraping of chairs as everyone stood. Frankie hurried to do the same. Then a short, squat, almost perfectly round man wearing an elaborate uniform and the tallest chunnel Frankie had yet seen came into view. With his red, gold, and gray uniform covered in shiny gold metals he looked like a welldecorated bowling ball. “That’s the General?” Frankie stared at him in surprise. “Why doesn’t he look like any of the other Tarsians I’ve seen?” “It’s said he’s part Twerkin—an ancient race even older than the Tarsian one. They are revered for their wisdom,” Kerov informed her. “Their wisdom, maybe, but not their looks,” Frankie sent back candidly. “He looks like a bowling ball with legs and a hat.” “It’s true the Twerkins are not considered very comely to look at,” Kerov itted as the short, squat General waddled over to take his place at the table. “But then, neither are the Kindred.” “What? Why not?” Frankie demanded. Mentally, he shrugged. “Because we do not meet the Tarsian standards of beauty.” “What, so you’re…not considered attractive here?” He snorted. “Hardly. A male should be thin with narrow shoulders, almost white hair, and dark purple eyes. My eyes and hair are the wrong color and my musculature is considered grotesque. Also, my body temperature is too high—all reasons why Xirnah wanted nothing to do with me.”

Frankie could scarcely believe it. By Earth standards, Kerov was positively mouthwatering. Not that she would tell him that—it would be too embarrassing. Still, it couldn’t hurt to give him a compliment. “Well I think you look nice,” she sent back. “More than nice, actually. With your broad shoulders and the fact that you’re so tall…and your eyes are really intense. I…uh…” She broke off abruptly, feeling embarrassed. She really shouldn’t have said so much. “I find you very attractive too,” Kerov murmured in her mind. “With your lush curves and your long dark hair and brown eyes…at the risk of sounding like that idiot, Ramlow, I find you both beautiful and exotic.” “Oh…” Frankie bit her lip and felt her cheeks heat with a blush. Could he really think she was beautiful when she was so far removed from the standards of beauty he was used to? “Of course I find you beautiful,” Kerov murmured and suddenly her mind was flooded with the same images he’d sent her the night before—images of him touching her…caressing her…kissing her… Suddenly, Frankie felt a stirring between her thighs—Kerov’s shaft was getting hard! “Stop it—stop it!” she begged. “You’re giving me a hard-on!” In fact, she could feel the long, heavy shaft between his legs pressing hard against the thin, black fabric of his uniform tros. It was so massive, she felt like it must be obvious to everyone and the General was coming around to sit beside her on her right hand side. What would he think if he saw Kerov’s thick monster of a tro snake poking out at him? “Sorry,” Kerov sent quickly. “You’re right—this is not the time or the place for this discussion. We must be serious now and above all, follow correct dining protocol. It is vitally important that you act in the proper manner but don’t worry —I will guide you every step of the way.” Frankie was grateful for his guidance and agreed it was time to get serious. Unfortunately, the erection which had grown between Kerov’s thighs refused to go down. She had to stand there in agony, feeling like everyone was watching as the General came waddling around to his chair right beside her. Dios, did men

have to put up with this kind of problem all the time? If so, it was a wonder they could ever go out in public. How awful! “Kerov,” she sent. “What am I supposed to do? How do I get this damn thing to go down?” But there was no answer. Frankie tried again. “Kerov? Kerov? Where are you? Answer me!” Again, nothing. Somehow the big Kindred was suddenly gone from her head. And he had taken all his knowledge of how to act properly at the banquet with him. Frankie was on her own.

Fourteen

Galaxies away, Kerov was woken by a shrill, annoying tune ringing in his ear. He sat up at once, momentarily disoriented. It was dark—nighttime—where was he? There was a thin sliver of light coming from somewhere—when his eyes adjusted he was able to look down at himself and take in his surroundings. He let out a low curse when he saw he was back in Frankie’s body, lying in her bed. His heart started to pound. Frankie—where was Frankie? And what was he doing back here in her body? They had been about to start the banquet—it was a situation loaded with potential pitfalls and she would be lost without him! How could he get back to her? I have to fall asleep, he thought. That seems to be the way this works—when one of us sleeps, the Switch occurs. I have to go back to sleep so I can get back to my body and help her with the banquet. But there was no possibility of sleeping with the tinny, irritating music which was coming from the small table at the side of the bed. Kerov fumbled on the small table and found the source of the noise—a flat, rectangular machine about the length of Frankie’s hand. The moment he touched it, rows of numbers appeared on its blank screen. What in the Seven Hells is this? Some kind of communications device? Kerov stabbed at the numbers to make it stop the noise but nothing happened until his thumb accidentally pressed against a small, recessed button near the bottom of the device. At once the noise stopped. But as he was about to put the thing back down, a voice came out of it. A male voice. “Frankie? Hey, mi amor, I’ve been thinking about you.” “What?” Kerov growled. “Who is this?” “Don’t be like that, mi corazon—you know who this is. Come on, I miss you,” the male voice begged. “Don’t be like this—you may have divorced me but you’re still mi esposa in the eyes of God, as your abuela is always saying.” Finally Kerov was able to put it all together. This must be the male Frankie had

called her “ex”—the one she had been ed to but had left. “Carlos,” he said, frowning as he spoke into the communication device. “Of course it’s Carlos,” the male on the other end said. “Who else would be calling to say they loved you?” “Why are you calling at this hour?” Kerov demanded. “It’s…” He glanced at the communications device which a quick scan of Frankie’s mind told him was a “phone.” Numbers at the top of the screen proclaimed the time. “It’s only o-four hundred hours,” he said. “Why would you call to proclaim your love at such an early and inconsiderate hour?” “I told you—because I love you, mi amor! And I’ve been thinking about you…” Carlos’s voice dropped to a lower . “Tell me, what are you wearing right now? Do you have on one of those sexy little lacy outfits like they sell at your work?” Kerov began to feel extremely annoyed. Not only had this male called and woken him at a crucial time, pulling him away from his own planet and Frankie when she most needed his guidance, but now he was making a sexual play for her even though she had expressly rejected him in the past. “What I am wearing is none of your concern,” he growled. “Frankie—I mean I have told you I want nothing to do with you. Do not call me again.” He stabbed at a button Frankie’s memory told him would end the call and had the satisfaction of hearing the noise on the other end cease abruptly. But just as he was about to turn over and try to go back to sleep, the irritating jingle began again. “What?” Kerov demanded, picking it up. “I told you not to call again!” “Mi linda, please, you’re killing me,” Carlos moaned dramatically on the other end. “Don’t you know I dream of you every night and think of you every day? I can’t help myself—I love you so much it hurts inside.” “I’ll hurt you on the outside if you don’t stop calling,” Kerov threatened. “Leave me alone!”

“I can’t—my heart won’t let me!” Carlos sounded like he was crying now, which irritated Kerov to no end. Was Frankie’s ex drunk? From the maudlin sobbing on the other end of the phone, it seemed a sound deduction. “We belong together,” Carlos whined through his tears. “Even your family says so! I just don’t understand why you left me!” “Do you really want to know why Frankie left you?” Kerov demanded, forgetting for a moment to pretend he was her. “It wasn’t just for your sexual inadequacies—although they were many—it was because you didn’t treat her with respect. She had ambitions that went beyond childcare and domestic servitude but you belittled her and held her back, never taking her hopes and dreams seriously.” “Wha…?” The drunken Carlos sounded utterly confused but Kerov wasn’t done yet. “Not only that, but you refused to pleasure her with your tongue,” he went on relentlessly. This, to him, seemed like an absolute sin against the Goddess. How could a male live on a planet where worshipping your female with your tongue and mouth was allowed and yet abstain from the act? He would have killed for such an opportunity but Carlos had refused to even try it. “Mi corazon—” Carlos began but Kerov was still angry. “You don’t deserve to be with Frankie,” he snarled. “She’s intelligent and talented, and beautiful and ionate! And you are too selfish and blind to see her for who she is. Not just a plaything to service and clean up after you—a female of worth.” “I…mi linda, I d-don’t understand,” Carlos stuttered at last. “Which is exactly why Frankie left you in the first place,” Kerov told him. “That and the fact that you are selfish in bed and have a very small shaft.” Then he hung up the phone. This time Carlos didn’t call back.

However, half an arhn later, just as Kerov was starting to drift off again, someone else did. Irritated beyond belief, Kerov snatched up the phone and looked for a way to mute it or turn it off completely. But this time there was a name flashing on the screen. Mom. Kerov stared at it in trepidation. Should he answer or not? It was still early in the morning—or late at night—however you wanted to look at it. Why would Frankie’s mother be calling at this hour? A quick scan of Frankie’s mind showed that it didn’t matter—no matter what the time, she would have answered a call from her mother to keep the other female from worrying. Cursing under his breath, he stabbed at the button and put the phone to his ear. “Hello?” “sca Benita Hermosa Rodriguez!” Frankie’s mother exclaimed angrily. “What’s this Carlos tells me about you insulting him and hurting his feelings? That’s not how a good wife acts towards her husband! Have you ever heard me insult your father like that? No! And that is why we have been married for thirtyfive years! Now, let me tell you…” And she proceeded to—for the next two hours. Kerov wanted desperately to get off the phone but there didn’t seem to be a way to do so without offending Frankie’s mother. In his culture, respect for one’s parents was deeply ingrained and he simply couldn’t risk hurting Frankie’s relationship with her mother. So he had to hear over and over how she had been wrong to leave Carlos, how he still loved her, and how the entire family was waiting for them to get back together. As he listened, Kerov’s heart sank. He realized that he had been letting himself to have more and more feelings for Frankie—feelings he should never have allowed to grow. Clearly, even if she liked Kindred males—which he knew she did not—she wasn’t free to start a relationship with him. To hear her mother tell it, she was still tied in some way to Carlos and eventually she would return to him. At last, after hours of the tirade, a clicking sound came from the phone. Pulling it

wearily from his ear, Kerov saw work blinking on the screen. “Mother, please,” he said—the first words he’d been able to get in for ages. “Forgive me but my work is calling.” “Your work.” She sniffed. “If you would come back and be a good wife to Carlos, you wouldn’t have to work. He has a good job—being a wife and becoming a mother is all the work you need!” “But for now, my work sustains me,” Kerov pointed out. “If I do not answer I could get into trouble or lose my job. I need to take this call.” “All right then.” Frankie’s mother sniffed. “But you haven’t heard the last of this, mija. I’m afraid your abuela is going to have something to say about it to you too—tonight at the family dinner.” Kerov felt his stomach clench. Was he now going to have to endure a meal with Frankie’s whole family unit—all of them telling him over and over how she ought to be with Carlos? “I must go,” he said desperately. Maybe if he could get back to sleep, he and Frankie could figure out a solution to their Switching problem. He did have someone he could ask for advice about it but he’d been reluctant to bother them before. Now, however, Kerov was officially desperate. He would do anything he had to in order to get this fixed—anything at all. “Fine. Go,” Frankie’s mother sniffed. “I’ll see you tonight at six. Don’t be late.” Kerov pushed the button on the phone, and a new voice took the place of Frankie’s mother. “Frankie?” it asked. “Yes?” Kerov answered cautiously. “Oh good—I got you. Listen, I know it’s supposed to be your day off but today is the Semi-Annual Sale and Haley just called in sick so I need you to come in. We have a lot of work to do before the store opens!” Kerov searched frantically through Frankie’s mind for an appropriate response.

“I can’t. I’m truly sorry but…but I am just not feeling like myself today,” he said, truthfully enough. “Not feeling like yourself?” The female voice on the other end snorted incredulously. “Well isn’t that just too bad! Listen, Frankie, you know how crazy this sale gets—I need you in here now.” “I can’t come in,” Kerov protested desperately. “I…I have to go back to sleep.” Which was also true—if he didn’t get back to sleep, he wouldn’t be able to get back to Frankie. He wondered how the banquet was going and if it was already too late to salvage the situation. But apparently his answer was not only the wrong one, it also angered the female on the other end of the phone who must be Frankie’s superior. “You need to sleep? That’s the lamest excuse I’ve ever heard! Listen, you get your ass to Victoria’s Secret now or you can kiss this job goodbye—you hear me?” And with that, he was stuck. Kerov knew perfectly well that he had already lost Frankie the possibility of not one but two jobs—he couldn’t lose the only one she had left! Whatever was happening in the banquet, she would have to deal with it on her own. He had no choice—while he was in her body, her life and livelihood were his responsibility. He had to go to her work. “All right,” he said dully. “I will be in shortly.” “Not shortly—in half an hour. Or don’t bother coming in at all,” snapped the voice. Then the phone went dead in his hand. Kerov stared at it, a deep sense of foreboding filling him. Frankie, he thought. I will do the best I can to fulfill your responsibilities. I only hope you are able to do the same for me.

Frankie tried not to panic as the bowling-ball shaped General Von-Doddle sat down beside her. As soon as he settled, he looked around and announced, “All are welcome to this banquet tonight. You may be seated.” His voice was high and squeaky and sounded strangely familiar, though Frankie couldn’t quite place it. With a feeling of immense relief, she sat, trying not to squash or injure Kerov’s still-hard shaft in the process. She had an almost insurmountable urge to reach into his tight tros and adjust it to a more comfortable position but she knew she couldn’t do it. Until it went down on its own, she would just have to deal with the discomfort. “Well now,” Brigadier Tlox said from her left hand. “We can begin.” As he spoke, several guards, who were obviously also trained as servers, came forward and began pouring various alcoholic smelling beverages into the tall shot glasses and the short, squat rectangular drinking vessels. When they were finished they stepped back out of sight and there was a moment of silence as though everyone was waiting for something to happen. “This is the Feast of Valor,” piped up General Von-Doddle, breaking the silence with his squeaky, somehow familiar voice. “Tonight we drink the tears of our enemy and feast on their blood and flesh.” Frankie felt her stomach clench. She really, really hoped he was speaking metaphorically but she had a bad feeling any vegetarian options were going to be strictly limited or more probably, nonexistent. Before she could think of a way to ask tactfully about it, the General started unbuttoning the left sleeve of his uniform jacket. To her right, Brigadier Tlox was doing the same. Quickly, Frankie unbuttoned her left sleeve, which had a long row of gold buttons all the way up to the elbow, as well. She wished she had Kerov in her head to tell her what to expect—unfortunately he was still gone. The best she could do was to copy the people around her and pray that no one noticed she had no idea what she was doing. The General had finished unbuttoning his sleeve and now he peeled it back, revealing a bare, pudgy arm.

“We will cut them to the quick and feast on their blood!” he announced. Then, lifting the small triangular-shaped shovel instrument which was lying across the black bowl, he dipped it into the ruby-red jelly and smeared a long line of it from his wrist to his forearm. With apparent relish, he started at his elbow and licked up to his wrist, lapping away the trail of jelly completely. “So shall it be!” came a deep-throated roar from every man seated at the long tables. Then everyone began to copy the General’s actions. Frankie did too, dipping her triangle shaped butter knife into the red jelly and smearing it on the underside of Kerov’s broad forearm. Then, starting at the elbow, she started to lick upward. Ugh! A thick, metallic, rusty taste filled her mouth. Madre de Dios—is this actually blood? She looked at the ruby-red jelly smeared liberally on Kerov’s arm. It must be—some kind of coagulated blood. Surreptitiously, she looked around for a napkin to wipe the rest of it away. But though the Tarsians had very elaborate plates and cutlery, there was no table linen in sight—well, except for the black tablecloth. All right—maybe she could wipe the disgusting blood jelly off on that. But just as she was about to wipe her arm on the edge of the cloth hanging down near her lap, she saw Brigadier Tlox glaring at her. “What, do you think you’re doing?” he demanded in a growling undertone. “Oh, um…” Frankie couldn’t think of any excuse that might be acceptable for profaning what was obviously an important ritual. “Nothing,” she muttered. “My…my arm was itching, that’s all.” Then, quickly, she brought her arm to her mouth and finished licking away the cold blood jelly, fighting not to gag as she did so. Tlox was still glaring at her when the General spoke again. “We will burn the flesh from their bones and feast upon it!” he proclaimed in that high, squeaky voice which reminded Frankie of someone. Who was it? Some program her nieces and nephews watched…she just couldn’t right now. “So shall it be!” everyone in the room chorused, agreeing with the General’s words once more.

Immediately the bowls of blood jelly were whisked away and the servers placed chunks of something on the golden plates beneath. Chunks of what Frankie had no idea but to her, the thing on her plate looked like a lump of coal or charcoal. To her right, the General grabbed the middle sized spork and one of the knives and started to saw off a piece of his own black lump. Aware that Tlox was still watching her, Frankie did the same. It was incredibly dry and tough and hard to cut—in fact, she could barely manage to make a dent in its carbonized shell. “What are you doing?” Tlox hissed again, frowning at her. “Why are you using the single sided knife? Everyone knows that the two-sided blade is the only proper instrument to carve blackened vorg flesh!” “Oh, right—of course,” Frankie blustered. “I…I must have grabbed the wrong one by mistake.” Quickly she put down the single sided knife and picked up the double bladed one which was considerably sharper. With this she was finally able to carve off a piece of the charcoal looking lump and put it in her mouth along with everyone else. It was meat, just as she had feared and suspected. Clearly she wasn’t going to be able to remain true to her vegetarian ways during this particular meal. However, even if she hadn’t been a vegetarian, Frankie would have found the blackened vorg flesh disgusting. Blackened my ass, she thought, chewing the bitter, dry, crumbling bite she’d managed to hack off. This stuff is burned. And yet somehow even through the horrible charred flavor, she could still taste the gaminess of the meat underneath. Madre de Dios, give me strength! How much more of this am I going to have to eat? she wondered dismally. “We will suck the marrow from their bones!” declared the General. “So shall it be!” Frankie intoned with everyone else in response. To her relief the burned lump of flesh and the golden plate were whisked away. But then a huge, raw, bloody bone was placed on the red plate in front of her to take its place. At once, the General took up the three-sided knife and began sawing at the end of his bone—which looked to Frankie like the femur of some hapless animal.

Taking her own three sided knife, she began sawing as well, working on the knobby white end of the bloody bone. She refused to think about what would happen when she got it off. The three sided knife was horribly sharp and before she knew it, she was staring into a bloody hole at the end of the bone. Beside her, General Von-Doddle reached for the long, black corkscrew-looking instrument, inserted it into his own bone, and began twisting vigorously. When he withdrew it, a lump of glistening, fatty, yellow and red marrow jiggled on the end like Jell-O. Frankie stared at it, both mesmerized and horrified. This was too far…too much. She felt her stomach turn over in a slow, disgusted roll. Dios, no…I can’t…I can’t do that. Please, I just can’t. Then she became aware of Tlox’s cadaverously thin face. He was staring at her and glaring, clearly wondering why she was falling behind on the feasting. It’s for Kerov, Frankie reminded herself. I have to do this for him! His whole career is riding on this stupid banquet. I have to. Taking a deep breath, she reached for her long black corkscrew and began screwing it into the hole at the end of the long, bloody bone. In short order she was able to pull out her own lump of marrow. Tlox was still staring at her, holding his own marrow mass. He popped it into his mouth and chewed, then raised his thin, white-blond eyebrows at her in question. No choice…no choice, I have to. Taking a deep breath and closing her eyes, Frankie put the jiggling lump of fatty marrow between her lips and swallowed it as quickly as she could. It was all she could do to keep from gagging. Despite getting it down as fast as she could, the marrow still coated her tongue with a fatty, bloody taste and a slimy texture that reminded her of mucus. I’m going to puke if I can’t get this taste out of my mouth! Frankie swallowed convulsively. She could feel her stomach protesting, demanding that she eject the disgusting alien meat products she’d been forced to eat. Grimly, she held on to

her gorge. She couldn’t puke at such an important banquet—it would ruin Kerov’s chances for a promotion. “And we will drink their tears!” proclaimed the General, again in that high voice. “So shall it be!” Who does he sound like—some cartoon character. Who? Who? Frankie thought, desperate to take her mind away from the horrible taste that still flooded her mouth. “Now we will pour the tears,” the small, round man proclaimed. Turning to Frankie, he raised the rectangular drinking vessel in front of him. “Commander, allow me to give you the taste of our mutual enemy’s despair,” he proclaimed. “It is salty…as salty as the sea!” The sea…the sea…Who lives in a pineapple under the sea? Absorbent and yellow and porous is he! Finally, Frankie was able to place his voice. Sponge Bob—Madre de Dios— General Von-Doddle sounded like Sponge Bob Square Pants! A bubble of hysterical laughter rose in her throat and broke free before she could catch it. The General glared at her. “Commander?” he demanded in his high, Sponge Bob voice. “Do you wish to partake in this ritual or not?” “Of…of course.” Frantically, Frankie attempted to turn her laugh into a cough. “Forgive me, General—the, uh, delicious marrow got stuck in my throat.” “Well…” The General seemed somewhat mollified. “All right. If you would partake in the tears of our enemy, raise your vessel with me.” “Oh—oh, yes, of course!” Quickly, Frankie raised the rectangular drinking vessel with the pour spout at one corner. Her earlier assessment had been correct —it was made of stone and it was very heavy. Luckily, Kerov was extremely strong and she lifted it easily although she could tell if she had been in her own body she probably wouldn’t have been able to budge it. It sat in her hand, about

the size of a brick, but five times as heavy. “And now, if you would…” Reaching up, the General entwined his chubby arm with hers, wrapping around until the spout of his rectangular drinking vessel was poised by her mouth. Frankie hastily copied his motions, getting into what she hoped was the correct position with her own pouring spout aimed at the General’s pursed lips. She had to stoop down from Kerov’s great height to do it, until she was almost crouching in front of the little bowling-ball shaped man. The pose reminded Frankie of two lovers drinking a toast and she hoped desperately that she was doing it right. “We drink their tears!” cried the General and then he poured a few drops of the cloudy white liquor which filled the rectangular stone vessel into Frankie’s mouth. Ugh! Frankie tried hard not to pull a face. The liquor was like the saltiest soy sauce she had ever tasted. At least it washed most of the fatty, bloody taste of the marrow away but not in a pleasant way. And, as she swallowed, it tickled the back of her throat, giving her an almost insurmountable urge to cough. Frankie fought the tickle in her throat grimly but some things can’t be helped. As she started to tip the rectangular container forward, attempting to pour just a few drops into the General’s mouth, a cough exploded out of her mouth. Frankie tried to catch it with her hand but she was contorted into such a strange position to do the toast in the first place that she couldn’t manage it. To her horror, flecks of bloody marrow, burned vorg flesh, and the blood jelly sprayed directly into the General’s face. But even worse, the cough made her hand shake and a huge salty wave of the tears liquor slopped into his open mouth. “Argh!” he spluttered, jerking back and gagging on the cloudy white liquor. “Oh, I am so sorry, General Van-Doodle! I mean, Vin-Diddle…I mean…I’m just really sorry!” Frankie exclaimed. Hastily, she tried to extricate herself from the awkward embrace but as she did, her too-loose chunnel slipped forward and knocked against the General’s own tall metal hat with a resounding goooonggg! There were shocked gasps from everyone in attendance and the General looked

at her with wide eyes. “Commander! Control your chunnel!” he squeaked in a very offended Sponge Bob voice. “I…I will. I’m so sorry.” Frankie scrambled to get the heavy hat straight on her head and sat back in her chair feeling miserable. Dios, she was really screwing things up for Kerov here! And she wanted so badly to do well for him. Despite the fact that she’d only known him a few days, she really liked the big Kindred. But here she was, ruining his life…again. Kerov, she thought miserably. I wish you were here to guide me. Where did you go? A sharp, pinching grip on her upper arm distracted her from her morbid thoughts. Turning her head, she saw that Brigadier Tlox was glaring at her. “What is wrong with you?” he demanded in a low voice filled with barely controlled fury. “You are making me look like a fool for inviting you to this banquet! You know it is forbidden for one male’s chunnel to touch another’s!” The way he said it and the scandalized look he was giving her made Frankie think her faux-pax was somehow sexual in nature. Geeze, I didn’t realize banging metal hats together could be construed as a homoerotic act! But apparently it was. Brigadier Tlox was acting like she’d groped the General’s crotch instead of just knocking their chunnels together. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I…my chunnel is loose for some reason.” “I can see that,” he snarled. “The whole banquet hall can see that! It fits you so poorly, one might almost think that you were wearing another male’s chunnel!” From behind his boney shoulder, Frankie could see Jorn’s wide purple eyes, filled with panic. He caught her gaze and gave his head a short, sharp shake. “Oh no—no of course not! I would…would never do that! Wear another man’s —I mean male’s chunnel? No, that would be disgusting!” Frankie proclaimed. Perhaps a bit too loudly because now every eye in the place seemed to be on her and Tlox and their conversation.

Tlox seemed to realize it too. “I should hope not,” he hissed. “Now let’s get back to the banquet.” He released her arm from his punishing grip and Frankie rubbed it resentfully. Pinche pendajo! Who knew Kerov’s supervisor was such a dick? He reminded Frankie a little of Ellen, her own supervisor at Victoria’s Secret back home, only with better cheekbones. Turning, she tried to get back to her meal. Thankfully, the banquet seemed to be coming to a close. The General—who had wiped off his face and regained his composure—spoke up again. “Our enemies are many and fierce. But when we have eaten their flesh and drunk of their tears, the fruits of our victory shall be sweet indeed!” he intoned. “So shall it be!” everyone shouted, Frankie included. The golden plate with the sawed up bone was whisked away and a little blue dish with what looked like a perfectly round scoop of chocolate chip ice cream was put in its place. Frankie stared at it in hope and disbelief. How could they have chocolate chip ice cream here on a planet galaxies away from Earth? But that was exactly what it looked like—a soft circle of melty white ice cream liberally studded with delicious, gooey chocolate chips. There was even a dainty triangle shaped spoon to eat it with. General Von-Doddle took up his spoon and ate a bite. “Delicious!” he declared. His actions seemed to be the cue for everyone else to eat too. Cautiously, Frankie picked up her spoon and dug a tiny bite of the vanilla part of the ice creamlooking stuff. She put it in her mouth, hoping for the best but prepared for the worst…and was pleasantly surprised. It didn’t taste exactly like vanilla ice cream, but it was smooth and creamy and sweet and cold and it melted on her tongue in a very pleasant way. Dios—finally! Something that doesn’t taste like blood or fat or burned meat! Eagerly, Frankie dug in. She got a big bite studded with chocolate chips this time and ate it quickly. And then another and another. But suddenly she realized it was almost all gone and she’d barely had time to taste it. The next bite, she

decided, she wanted to savor. She scooped up another generous mouthful and let it melt on her tongue, almost moaning with pleasure. So good! It’s so go— Her thoughts were cut off abruptly when she felt something move in her mouth. Madre de Dios—what the hell? Automatically, Frankie spit the mouthful into her cupped hand. To her horror, she saw that the chocolate chips weren’t chocolate chips after all. They appeared to be small, brownish-black worm-like creatures which reared their tiny blind snouts, wriggling in the puddle of melted white in the center of her palm. Frankie made a sound of disgust and wiped her hand on the black tablecloth without thinking. Jellied blood…burned meat…raw, fatty bone marrow and soysauce liquor—all that she could handle. But bugs and slugs and anything crawly or slimy freaked her out. Especially something crawling in her mouth! It was just too much. But I already ate some of them! A lot of them! There were only a few bites of the “ice cream” left—the rest was all in her belly. She felt herself starting to gag at the thought and swallowed hard. There were alien slugs swimming in her stomach right now…Dios, what was she going to do? “What’s the matter, Commander?” came the cold voice of Brigadier Tlox from her side. “Haven’t you ever had belii slugs before? They come from the Verbon mountain range, of course—a great delicacy I’m told. The handlers freeze them in a concoction of sweetened torg mucus which causes the slugs to become inert. Then one can chew and ingest them with ease.” Torg mucus? Dios—this just gets worse and worse! But Frankie tried not to show her horror and disgust. “Oh, yes, of course,” she said weakly, trying to smile. “Belii slugs—delicious— eat them all the time. I just, uh, think I got a bad one in that last bite, that’s all.” “Of course Kerov hasn’t had belii slugs!” This was from Jorn who was staring at Tlox and frowning. “He’s full blooded Kindred—he can’t eat them, Brigadier. A Kindred’s higher body heat wakes the slugs before they can be properly digested and causes great internal distress.”

“Great…distress?” Frankie asked faintly. The banquet was breaking up and everyone around her was standing and shaking hands—or shaking arms anyway, which was what they seemed to do around here. General Von-Doddle gave her a brief nod and departed. Frankie knew she should have been incredibly glad she didn’t have to eat any more disgusting alien food. But for right now, she was too worried to be relieved. She put a hand to her stomach. Everything seemed fine so far but for how long? How much would the bunch of slugs she’d swallowed without realizing it bother Kerov’s Kindred body? And when would it start happening? “Am I really going to be in…in distress?” she asked, looking at Jorn. “I should think you’ll find out all about it soon enough.” Tlox was positively smirking at him now while Jorn was frowning angrily. “Brigadier Tlox, I must ask,” he said. “Did you know that belii slugs were going to be served at tonight’s banquet when you invited Kerov to be here?” “And if I did?” Tlox turned to glare at Kerov’s friend. “What of it? If the Kindred wishes to rise above the Rank of Commander, he needs to be tough enough to deal with everything a full blooded Tarsian does.” “We Tarsians have lower body temperatures, enabling us to ingest the slugs and them through our system without harm,” Jorn insisted. “Letting Kerov eat them while knowing full well that his body temperature would awaken them and cause him harm was wrong!” “The only thing I see wrong here is a full blooded Tarsian defending a Kindred scum,” Tlox hissed, turning to glare at Jorn. “Kerov is my friend,” Jorn said, his pale blond eyebrows knitting in fury. “When you extended this invitation to us both, I took it in good faith. I thought you honestly wanted to promote both of us—not use the opportunity to embarrass and harass a fine Commander who has done you no harm.” Frankie was touched at the level of Jorn’s loyalty. She had read in Kerov’s mind that he only trusted the other man so much—but she had to say, she thought maybe the big Kindred had misjudged his best friend. She wanted to speak up

and thank Jorn…but she was beginning to feel strange. Very, very strange. “I have been watching your friend, Commander Volx here, for quite some time,” Tlox was saying. “He has almost no Tarisan blood in his veins. He’s nearly pure bred Kindred—one of the few still left. I knew there had to be something wrong with him” “And so you laid this trap?” Jorn demanded incredulously. “To try and trip him up just because he’s Kindred? I am sorry you cannot see Commander Volx for what he truly is. He’s more than just a Kindred—he’s an excellent Commander who leads his people well and almost never loses a warrior in combat.” “Oh, I do see Commander Kerov Volx for what he is.” Tlox’s purple-black eyes glowed malevolently. “Or rather, for what he is not. What you may not know, Commander Jorn, is that belii slugs have another function, besides being delicious. They also, when taken internally by a Kindred, will show without a shadow of a doubt, whether he is a Jumper or not.” “A Jumper? Able to jump into another’s body?” Jorn frowned. “There hasn’t been one of those for over a century, Brigadier.” “That’s what they’d like you to think. All those filthy Kindred Switchers and Jumpers.” The light in his dark eyes was verging on fanatical now. “But the belli slugs tell the truth—they always tell the truth!” Dios, Frankie thought. He’s crazy! Some kind of fanatic on a quest to get all the Kindred. And unfortunately it seemed like Kerov was at the top of his hit list. Unsteadily, she rose from the table and took a stumbling step back. If only she didn’t feel so weird. Like she was melting from the inside out… There was something cold and wet running down the sides of her face, just under the chunnel. Frankie tried to wipe at it and almost fell. “Kerov?” Jorn was on his feet at once, reaching out a hand to help her. “I…don’t feel so good,” Frankie muttered, clutching at his arm. “You don’t look so good either, Commander.” Tlox was grinning now—an ugly expression on his angular features. “In fact, if what the belli slugs are telling us is correct—and I am sure that it is—you’re not only a Switch Kindred—you’re

in the middle of a Switch right now.” “What? What are you talking about?” Jorn demanded, his voice echoing in the now empty banquet hall. “I’m talking about this.” Tlox reached up and swiped at the side of Frankie’s face. His fingers came away covered in green slime which he held out for her and Jorn to examine. “See this? Only the essence of another person reacting with the Kindred host body could cause such a reaction. Otherwise, the slime-sweat would be clear.” “Slime-sweat? Seriously?” Frankie’s indignant question came out as more of a croak. Dios, she felt bad—terrible. “Look at him!” The Brigadier wiped the green slime off on the tablecloth and pointed an accusing finger at Frankie. “During the banquet, he didn’t know what utensils to use, he doesn’t know any of the correct dining protocols, and he speaks strangely! There must be another person within that body of his!” Jorn looked at her with a question in his eyes and for a moment Frankie thought he was going to abandon her and with Tlox in condemning Kerov. But then Jorn frowned and shook his head. “I’m sorry, Brigadier,” he said formally. “But Kerov is my best friend and has been for years—if there was something different about him, I would notice it. And, for the record, I have not noticed a thing. I think the problem lies in the fact that he was nervous about attending this banquet tonight, which made him just a little bit clumsy and forgetful of dining protocols he has studied but never used.” “You may be able to explain away his awkward behavior but you cannot explain away the green slime-sweat,” Tlox insisted. “Actually, yes I can,” Jorn said flatly. “The slugs are certainly detecting another person beside Kerov in his skin but it’s not because of any ridiculous switching or jumping ability he has—it’s because he’s wearing the former Commander Slubgum’s chunnel.” Frankie looked at him uncertainly. Earlier, it had seemed that itting to wearing another male’s chunnel was the worst thing she could do. But apparently Jorn had assessed the situation and decided it was a lesser evil than

itting that Kerov had the reviled Switching ability. “He what?” Brigadier Tlox’s sharp features wrinkled with disgust. “It’s true,” Jorn said steadily. “Kerov forgot his own chunnel back at his quarters and there was no time to retrieve it. So he was forced to wear Slubgum’s to the banquet. That’s why it’s so loose.” “He’s right,” Frankie somehow managed to say. She felt so sick now she didn’t even know how she was still standing. Only Jorn’s grip on her arm was keeping her upright. Tlox looked back and forth between them, his face a mask of revulsion. “This…this is…I…” He seemed unable to form the words. “Ugh…” Suddenly the contents of Frankie’s stomach decided to eject themselves. Leaning forward, she puked for the second time in twenty-four hours. Only this time I have to actually feel it, she thought miserably as everything she’d had for dinner came up along with a writhing mass of black slugs. Because this time she was the one in the host body so she wasn’t immune to the effects of the substance she’d unknowingly swallowed. Just as Kerov had suffered the effects of drinking too much wine the night before, now she was paying for eating the belii slugs. Frankie thought dimly that Kerov had gotten the best of that deal—puking up Thai food and wine was infinitely better than vomiting slugs. Tlox shouted and jumped back in disgust as she puked, narrowly missing getting splattered with the mess. “Well,” he said, brushing fastidiously at his still clean tros. “I think this is a matter for the disciplinary review committee. In fact—” Just then the too-loose chunnel, which was covered in the green slime-sweat, fell off Frankie’s head and landed with a flat splat in the middle of the pile of sick. Vomit, green slime, and writhing slugs sprayed up, coating Tlox’s high black boots and immaculate uniform tros.

“Argh!” Tlox stared down at himself, apparently speechless with rage and disgust. Great, Frankie thought hazily. That’s the second asshole I’ve puked on in the past twenty-four hours. Maybe I’m starting a new hobby or something… “If you’ll excuse me, Brigadier, I need to get Kerov some medical attention.” Jorn’s voice cut through her blurred thoughts and she looked up to see that he was still holding her arm. Brigadier Tlox was glaring at them both, his angular face white with fury. “This isn’t the end of this matter!” He stabbed a finger at them. “I’ll be watching you—both of you.” Then he turned and hurried away, slipping and almost falling in the slimy slugvomit as he went. “Whew…” Jorn looked down at Frankie and shook his head. “Well that’s not good. We’d better get out of here—can you walk?” “I…I think so.” Ejecting the slugs seemed to have lightened the load in Frankie’s belly considerably. But she still felt floaty and light-headed. “Good. Come on.” Still holding her arm, Jorn towed her out of the Ministry of War and out to his waiting vehicle. They left the base and Frankie wondered where they were going. But before she could ask anything, Jorn did something to the controls of the huge tank he drove and turned to her. “All right—we’re on auto-drive,” he said steadily, looking at her. “Now tell me —who are you and where is Kerov?”

Fifteen

The dravik burst with an immense, bloody splatter, coating the walls of the Souda with gooey crimson. Its job was done. From the shredded, gory remains stepped a tall figure with spiky blond hair and pale, piercing blue eyes. Two left the Souda and strolled naked to the 3-D viewer mounted on the wall of his private chambers—the chambers which used to house The AllFather, back when the Scourge were still a viable force. “Yes,” he murmured in a deep, powerful voice, examining himself from all angles. “Yes, perfect. Just perfect.” Given access to all of the Scourge technology, some might suppose that Two would have chosen to recreate himself in the form of the AllFather himself—that terrifying being who had ruled the Scourge for centuries with an iron fist until he was brought down by his own son. And, indeed, Two had considered it. After all, he was on the Scourge home world—he could certainly have found some of the fallen overlord’s DNA to use. But the visage he currently wore was infinitely better suited to his purposes. And besides, it was so much prettier than the cadaverous AllFather had been. Prettier and more useful too—for gaining entry to the Kindred Mother Ship and doing what had to be done. “You’ll never manage it,” whispered a weak voice in the back of his head. “What are you going to do—fly over and hail the Mother Ship on the viewscreen? Questions will be asked—your duplicity will be found out immediately.” Two frowned in irritation. “Are you still in there, Y? I was certain the pain of my transformation would have killed you.” There was a weak laugh that sounded more than half mad. “Apparently not. I suppose as the original owner of this body, I cannot be killed. At least, not unless you die as well. Which you will if you attempt to board the Kindred Mother Ship in that form.”

“Which is why I am not going to just fly up and hail them!” Two made an exasperated sound. “Give me some credit for being a little more cunning than that, Y. There is, after all, more than one way onto the Mother Ship.” He looked at himself in the mirror and ran one large, well-shaped hand through his spiky blond hair. “And once I’m there, I will make them pay for all they’ve done to me.” “How?” Y demanded weakly. “By forcing them to endure your company? That is surely punishment enough for any offense—I should know!” Two made an irritated hissing sound from between his even, white teeth. “I really wish the pain would have killed you—it was amusing to have your commentary at first but now it is simply annoying. However, since you ask, I have something much more nefarious planned for our Kindred friends. And I’m not using that word lightly, you know. Soon they really will be friends—those that survive the process of transformation, that is.” “What? What in the Seven Hells do you have planned for those poor bastards?” Y demanded. “You can’t get them all into the Souda—they wouldn’t fit. And there are too many of them for you to force them.” “Who said anything about transforming their outer appearances?” Two demanded, grinning. “I’m talking about a complete change which will happen from the inside out. And as for forcing them, that will not be necessary, my dear Y. They will willingly take what I provide. And then they will change…all of them will change completely…”

“So how was your day at Victoria’s Suckret?” Lacy gave Kerov a friendly smile as she steered her little vehicle around a curve in the road. She had shown up at Frankie’s domicile barely minutes after he’d gotten back from work, much to his chagrin. She had then insisted on accompanying him to the family gathering at Frankie’s mother’s house for “moral ” whatever that meant. Kerov had been unable to think of a way to dissuade her so now they were on the way to meet Frankie’s family, though after the encounter with her mother on the phone that morning, he thought battling The Swarm with no battle armor would be preferable. “It could have been better,” he growled shortly. In fact, it had been one of the worst and most awkward days he could . One might think that handling lacy underthings and helping beautiful females to try them on would be any male’s dream. And it would be—in a fantasy. But as Kerov quickly found out, Frankie’s job was no fantasy. To begin with her supervisor was already angry with him when he came in because of the excuses he’d used to try and get out of working. She had put him to work unpacking new stock and hanging it. It was mind-numbingly boring and he still found the bra straps bewildering, but after consulting Frankie’s store of information, he was able to do it fairly well. That was before the store had opened, however. As soon as it did, a horde of customers poured in, all eager to grab whatever they could during the Semi-Annual Sale. Kerov watched as the Earth females pawed through the neat stacks of underthings, disarranging all his work. Several of them had brought young ones and they ran through the store, screaming at each other and hiding under the hanging racks where they pulled garments off the hangers and trampled them. He considered grabbing them by their collars and dragging them out of the store —no young would be allowed to run wild in such a way on Tarsia. However, a quick look at Frankie’s mind showed that such an action would get him “sued” which appeared to be a legal action one wanted to avoid at all cost. So he contented himself with telling the females who owned the young ones to control them. None of them took his advice kindly, however, and he got several angry looks from the females he talked to.

The chaos increased and soon he was being pulled this way and that by various customers. Some asked him to find specific garments he had no knowledge of while others demanded that he open dressing rooms for them. Kerov did the best he could, thinking that at least unlocking the small fitting areas was easy enough…until Frankie’s supervisor berated him for it. “How many are you letting them take in at once?” she demanded, grabbing him by the elbow as yet another customer pushed past him to get into the tiny space with an armful of garments. “Uh…as many as they wish to try.” Kerov was confused—had he somehow done something wrong? From the look on the supervisor’s sharp, shrewish features, apparently he had. “What? You know you can’t do that—the whole store will grow legs and walk!” “It will?” Kerov looked around—should he take this statement literally? Would the store actually uproot itself and grow appendages to walk away on? Surely not. “You know it will! Look, you can’t trust the customers not to take a five finger discount if you don’t watch them,” Frankie’s supervisor lectured. “No more than five pieces at a time. And be sure they’re not trying on the panties—only the bras. And watch out for old man Jenkins—you know what he likes to do! He’s supposed to be banned from the store but if we don’t watch it, he’ll sneak in. I don’t need to deal with that today.” Kerov had no idea who old man Jenkins was but he found out later. As he was rushing to open a fitting room for a woman who had only five garments to try, he heard her scream. “Oh my God—what is he doing in there?” Kerov ran back to the fitting room and saw the customer making a face of disgust and disbelief. Looking into the room, he saw an older Earth male sitting on the tiny wooden bench in the corner. He had his tros around his ankles and a pair of silky red panties wrapped around his engorged member. He was masturbating furiously and several stained and crumpled piles of other silky undergarments proved that he had been at it for some time.

“Ugh!” the customer looked at Kerov. “This is awful! You need to call security. “Security be damned,” Kerov growled. Leaning into the tiny room, he had yanked the Earth male up by his collar and dragged him out into the main area of the store. “Hey now, hey now,” the male protested, shuffling because his tros were still around his ankles. “No need to get rough, pretty lady. I was just havin’ a little fun.” “Pleasuring yourself in a public area and using undergarments that do not belong to you to do so, is a punishable offense,” Kerov informed him. He was certain this was true as Frankie’s store of information informed him as much. “I would be within my rights to take you straight to the authorities.” Just then Frankie’s supervisor came rushing up. “What are you doing?” she screeched. “What the Hell do you think you’re doing?” At first Kerov thought she was screeching at the Earth male but it turned out she was angry with Kerov again. “You can’t go dragging him out into the middle of the store with his wang hanging out!” she exclaimed, waving her arms. “Take him to the back and I’ll call security. But first make him pull up his pants—we’re going to get sued for indecent exposure. There are kids in here for God’s sake!” Kerov had done as she said but the day had only gotten worse after that. He had been yelled at again when one of the customers with young ones complained that he had insulted her by asking her to control her child. Apparently Earth people didn’t like advice on how to rear their young. Later in the day the crowds finally started tapering off. Kerov had hoped to go at some point but Frankie’s supervisor forced him to stay and help straighten up the store which was “completely trashed” as another hapless salesperson put it. Kerov worked diligently. He disliked cleaning up the mess left after the sale but it was better than dealing with customers in his opinion. He had just begun to think that the worst was over when an older Earth female with gray hair came in

with her mate. “Frankie!” she exclaimed, dragging her mate over and giving Kerov a big hug. “Um, hello there…Mrs. Hofstadter,” Kerov said, grateful that he was able to find the name in Frankie’s mind. “And how are you today?” “Oh, Leonard and I are fine, aren’t we Lenny?” Mrs. Hofstadter nudged her mate with one sharp elbow. “Yes, Myra,” he grunted unenthusiastically. “We just heard you were having a big sale and we wanted to come stock up on some sexy things.” Mrs. Hofstadter giggled girlishly. “You know—for our BDSM playtime?” “No, I do not know,” Kerov said, without thinking. He probably should have consulted Frankie’s mind to see what the letters stood for but he was busy straightening a pile of tangled bras and he didn’t want to expend the effort. “You know—bondage and domination and all that! You know…” Mrs. Hofstadter’s voice dropped a note as though she was telling a naughty secret. “The other day Leonard had me tied to the bed and he was rubbing that cinnamon scented lotion onto my goody basket—you know, the kind that heats up?” “Uh…” Caught completely off guard, Kerov stopped straightening the undergarments and looked at her. Was this female telling him about her private sexual practices? And if so, why? “Your…goody basket?” he asked before he thought. “You know—my lady bits.” Mrs. Hofstadter nodded pointedly down at her crotch. “Anyway, he had just put the nipple clamps on me so…” Kerov listened in disbelief as the Earth female continued to talk, giving intimate details of all the strange sexual practices she and her mate indulged in. Why was she telling him all this? And what could he do to make her stop? Nothing, apparently. Mrs. Hofstadter followed him around the store and even walked with him out to the employee parking where he had left Frankie’s small

vehicle when he was finally allowed to leave. By that time Kerov was thoroughly tired of hearing about the strange ways the inhabitants of Earth “sexed each other up” as Mrs. Hofstadter put it. He did wonder, though, if Frankie indulged in such practices. She had told him that her society was more permissive in such matters. Certainly nothing Mrs. Hofstadter described would be allowed on Tarsia but maybe everyone here on Earth was slightly perverted due to their looser standards? He made a mental note to ask Frankie the next time they intersected—which he fervently hoped was soon. He’d wanted to go straight to her domicile and go to sleep—he was certainly tired enough to do so. Unfortunately, shortly after he arrived there, Lacy had as well, reminding him that he had to attend Frankie’s family gathering. As there didn’t seem to be any way to get out of it, now he was on the way there, trying to make what Frankie’s mind told him was “small talk” with her best friend. “Could have been better, huh?” Lacy asked sympathetically, pulling him out of his dark thoughts. “One of those days, right?” “A day straight from the lowest level of the Seven Hells,” Kerov growled. “Huh?” Lacy gave him a strange look. “The what did you say now?” “Nothing.” Kerov looked out the window, wishing he was back in his own body. He was thoroughly tired of being stuck here on this strange planet pretending to be someone he was not. “Nothing—I said nothing.” “Well, forget about that—how was your date with Professor Sexy?” Lacy inquired. Kerov tried to suppress a sigh. “It did not…go as expected,” he said at last. “What?” Lacy gave him a startled look. “But I thought he was going to be the one—the guy you finally slept with to break your no-nookie streak after finally getting away from Carlos?” “I did not have relations with him,” Kerov snapped. “He only wanted…” He

consulted Frankie’s store of information, trying to think how to phrase his words. “He only wanted to get under my pants.” “Under your pants? What?” “Into—I mean into,” Kerov hastily corrected. “He only wanted to get into my pants. Which I did not allow.” Just ing the encounter pissed him off even more and he scowled. “Oh, hon—I’m so sorry.” Lacy put a hand on his arm and squeezed consolingly. “That sucks. I know you really liked him.” “He was the son of an asshole,” Kerov said, hastily grabbing from Frankie’s store of curse words. “A what now? You mean a son of a bitch?” Lacy asked. “Exactly. The son of a female dog.” Kerov nodded, confident he had it right that time. “And a real brotherfucker.” Lacy was looking at him strangely. “Um, Frankie, don’t take this the wrong way but you’ve been acting kind of weird lately. I’m sorry that your date didn’t work out. And I guess you’re still kind of upset over the yoga thing too, huh?” “Yes.” Kerov nodded decisively, glad that she’d given him an excuse for his mood. “Or is it Carlos? Has he been bothering you again? I know he’s going to be at this family thing tonight.” “He is?” Kerov felt a growl building in his throat as he ed the drunken phone call that had awakened him at such a critical juncture. He also didn’t like the fact that this Carlos seemed to feel he had a claim on Frankie—and that her family seemed to agree. “Hey—are you growling over there?” Lacy shot him a sidelong glance filled with uncertainty. “I mean, I know he pisses you off but—”

“I am not growling,” Kerov lied. “I just…I was clearing my throat.” “Okay, well, if he gives you trouble tonight, that we don’t have to stay. I know it’s your family and you don’t want to let him run you off but a girl can only take so much, you know? So if you need to leave, just let me know.” “Duly noted,” Kerov said shortly. “Thank you.” “You’re welcome.” Lacy shot him another confused look. “I just hope you get back to feeling like yourself again soon. I miss the old Frankie.” Kerov shot her a glance. He had to do a better job pretending to be Frankie! He was ruining her life and now her best friend suspected his duplicity. I must do a better job of impersonating her—especially when I meet her family, he told himself. None of them must suspect that anything is wrong.

Sixteen

“All right—you’re all cleaned up and decent. Now tell me.” Jorn looked at Frankie intently and she could tell he wouldn’t be put off anymore. She’d already stalled as much as she could. She’d started by saying she couldn’t possibly talk when she was covered in green slime and vomit. Not to be put off, Jorn had taken her to his home and let her use the bathroom to clean up. Frankie had tried to think of a way around it but there was no choice—even after swearing she would never do it again, she was forced to undergo another one of the horrible Tarsian showers. This time at least she knew what to expect, so it wasn’t quite as bad—but she still had to nerve herself up for it and she was relieved when it was over. Then Jorn loaned her the Tarsian version of a tooth brush—a semi-circular device with bristles sticking out all over that brushed every tooth in her mouth at once—and she finally got the awful tastes of the banquet out of her mouth. Jorn had even run her clothes through the washer and dryer—or whatever the Tarsian equivalent was—for which she was profoundly grateful. It was good to be clean and have on clean clothes again, though she didn’t bother with the formal uniform jacket, preferring just to wear Kerov’s undershirt and tros. After her shower and brushing her teeth, Frankie felt squeaky clean—both inside and out—but also horribly tired. The slug ice cream had really done a number on her! But Kerov’s best friend wasn’t going to take no for an answer. He wanted to know what was going on. And after the way he’d stood by her at the banquet, Frankie honestly felt she owed him an explanation. Now they were standing in the living room of Jorn’s house and he was staring at her intently. “Tell me,” he said again. “All right,” she said, looking for someplace to sit. “Let’s talk. Um—do you have anything I can sit on that won’t molest me?” “Molest you?” He looked at the sensu-chairs in the middle of the floor. “Oh—I see what you mean. Certainly.” He flipped a switch and suddenly a low bench covered in gray cloth flipped out

of the wall. Jorn seated himself and looked expectantly up at Frankie. “Well?” “All right.” Frankie took a deep breath, hoping she was doing the right thing. “Here’s the thing…I’m not actually Kerov.” “I know,” he said quietly. “I’ve known for some time.” Frankie’s heart sank. “Is it that obvious?” she asked. “I mean, I’m that bad at impersonating him?” “No.” Jorn shifted and looked down at his hands. “I just know Kerov very well because, well, I care for him. Deeply. More…” He cleared his throat. “Much more deeply than I should.” “You…” Suddenly his words and their meaning sank in. “Oh…” Frankie whispered. Reaching out, she put her hand over Jorn’s. “You love him, don’t you?” He looked up quickly. “I…that’s not a State-approved emotion for one male to have about another.” “But you have it for Kerov, don’t you?” Frankie asked softly. When she thought about it and examined Kerov’s memories, it all made sense. Jorn was always so eager to talk about his exploits at the State run brothels and his sexual encounters with his assigned partner but Kerov had never actually seen him do any of the things he bragged about. Then there was the huge silver tank he drove—an obvious extension of his masculinity but really just a smoke screen for his real feelings. He definitely protests too much, Frankie thought, looking at the unhappy cast of Jorn’s dark purple eyes. He’s probably been in love with Kerov for years. How sad! “Well?” she said gently when Jorn didn’t answer her. “Yes,” he said haltingly. “Yes, I…care for him in that way.” He sighed. “And now I know for certain that he can never care for me or return my feelings. Not that it is allowed here on Tarsia.” “What makes you say that?” Frankie asked, although she was pretty sure he was

right. She’d been inside Kerov’s head for some time now—she could tell he was straight as an arrow. “Because—you’re female. Aren’t you?” Jorn looked at her almost accusingly. Frankie shifted uncomfortably. “Well…yes. Yes, I am.” “I know the tales of the Switch Kindred,” Jorn said. “When a male switches bodies with a female it is because she is the one he loves above all others. The one he is meant to bond with for life.” “What?” Frankie frowned. “Kerov never told me that. I don’t think that’s true at all. We just sort of got Switched by accident.” “That doesn’t matter,” Jorn said darkly. “A switch between male and female almost always presages a permanent bond between them.” “But…but I hardly know Kerov,” Frankie protested. But even as the words left her mouth she knew they weren’t true. She might not have known the big Kindred for long but she did know him intimately, in a way no one else ever could. She had literally walked in his shoes—well, boots anyway—and had seen into his mind. True, some of the “filing cabinets” there were still firmly locked but Frankie had seen enough to know that he was honorable, courageous, and kind. “Look, if it makes you feel any better, I’m not Kerov’s type any more than you are,” she told Jorn wryly. “His ‘type?’ But you are female.” “Yes, but I don’t look anything like Kerov’s ex—Xirnah,” Frankie told him. “I’ve got a lot more junk in the trunk for one thing. And I’m not blonde.” He frowned. “I don’t know what ‘junk in the trunk’ means.” “It means I actually have an ass and hips.” Frankie put a hand on her hip to demonstrate—but it didn’t really work since Kerov was so lean and muscular. “Oh.” Understanding flooded Jorn’s face. “That’s too bad. Xirnah is the Tarsian ideal.”

“So I’ve been told,” Frankie muttered. Despite the sexual encounters she and Kerov had shared, she was still well aware that she didn’t look a thing like his “ideal mate.” And anyway, even if he had been interested, it wasn’t like they could be together. They lived hundreds of thousands of light years apart. “Well, at least you’re privileged to share some degree of intimacy with Kerov,” Jorn said, breaking her train of thought. “So you know he is an honorable male —one who does not deserve to be treated as he was tonight at the banquet.” “You really stuck by me in there.” Frankie squeezed his hand again. “Even though you knew I wasn’t Kerov—thank you.” He shrugged his narrow shoulders. “It was the least I could do to take care of my friend when he could not take care of himself.” He looked at her curiously. “Where is he now, if you don’t mind me asking? Is he in your body as you are in his?” “Yes, I’m pretty sure he is.” Frankie sighed. “He was with me right up until we started the banquet and then he just disappeared somehow. Actually, I’m really worried about him.” “You need to him,” Jorn said. “I can’t unless he suddenly pops back in my head—or his head, I mean. Anyway, what we really need is to find a way to Switch back permanently. Kerov told me he knew some people he thought might help him but he didn’t want to bother them unless there was no other way. And then he got pulled away before he could tell me who they were.” Jorn looked thoughtful. “I think I might know the people he was talking about.” Frankie looked at him hopefully. “Do you? Can you please point me in the right direction? Kerov is a wonderful guy but I’m really tired of being stuck in his body. Like really tired. And I’m sure he’s sick of being in mine too.” “I can do better than pointing you in the right direction.” Jorn rose and clapped his hands together. “I can take you to them.”

Kerov sank down on Frankie’s bed, exhausted. He knew he ought to take a shower—he was a mess. But he could barely make himself move. What a night… It had started almost as soon as he had come in the door at Frankie’s mother’s domicile. Her mother had dragged him aside and started extolling the virtues of Carlos, who was leaning against one wall, watching hopefully. Then her grandmother or abuela had taken over. She had reminded Kerov that Frankie and Carlos were still married in the eyes of the Earth deity and that it was wrong for them to live apart. She said most of this in Spanish, but Kerov found he was able to access the language in Frankie’s mind and understand it quite easily. Not that he wanted to—he was thoroughly sick of hearing how perfect Carlos was in any language. After that, Frankie’s grandmother had begged him to come into the kitchen and eat. Glad to do anything that didn’t include hearing the many virtues of the smirking Carlos, Kerov agreed. To his delight, he saw that meat was on the menu —lots and lots of it. “Here you go, nieta,” Frankie’s abuela cooed. “I made your favorite—ropa vieja.” According to Frankie’s knowledge, this translated into “old clothes.” But despite the strange name, the food in the large pot looked and smelled delicious. It was some kind of shredded flesh in a spicy red broth that reminded Kerov of charnix stew. “Mmm,” he murmured appreciatively, as Frankie’s abuela loaded a large bowl with the stuff. “This looks delicious!” “I made it just for you. I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist,” the old lady said proudly. “Go on, nieta—eat it up.” Kerov did, enjoying every savory mouthful. After he finished, Frankie’s grandmother urged him to try some puerco asado which was also wonderful. Then some ham croquettes and some homemade chicharones. Kerov ate until he

thought he might burst, delighted to finally find some real food that didn’t taste disgusting here on Earth. In between, he drank sips of sangria, a delicious, fruity alcohol beverage that one of Frankie’s relatives had made. He tried to be careful with the alcohol, ing the night before. But Kerov was certain that his belly was so full of meat he wouldn’t have any problems metabolizing the sangria. He appeared to be right, too—he felt perfectly sober— if extremely full—by the time he finished eating. It wasn’t until later in the evening when the trouble started. Frankie’s mother’s little house was crowded and warm inside and the vast quantities of meat Kerov had eaten were sitting heavy on his belly. He considered leaving but he worried that Frankie’s family might think it strange for her to go so soon. Besides, Lacy was laughingly practicing her Spanish with one of Frankie’s sisters and didn’t appear ready to go yet. Kerov decided to take a walk outside and breathe in the cool night air. He thought it might settle his stomach which, to be honest, was feeling worse and worse. Unfortunately, he hadn’t gone three steps outside the domicile before he found he was not alone. “Hello, mi corazon,” Carlos crooned in his ear, snaking his arm through Kerov’s. “Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?” “Get away from me.” Kerov shook off his arm with irritation. “Go and leave me alone.” But Carlos was not so easily put off. “Come on now, mi amor—you know how sad it makes me when you’re mean,” he cooed, putting an arm around Kerov’s waist. “I said…get…away.” Kerov turned and pushed the other male in the chest with all his might. What he really wanted was to punch the bastard in the face but he didn’t want to cause a scene with Frankie’s family. Carlos stumbled but didn’t go down. “Aww, c’mon now,” he smirked, coming back and putting his arm around Kerov’s shoulders. “Don’t fight it. You know we’re going to get back together—

your whole family wants us to. And deep down, I know you want us to, too.” He managed to get a grip on Kerov’s upper arms and pulled him in for a kiss. Kerov struggled grimly, both his temper and his gorge rising. Damn it, he was so tired of this bullshit from males and so tired of being too weak to fight it off the way he wanted to! Frankie was strong for a female but she was still a female. Kerov missed his own male strength. If he’d been in his own body, he would have flattened Carlos with one punch. As it was, he couldn’t even break away. The other male’s fingers were biting into his upper arms and his big, stupid face was getting closer and closer. There was a chunk of ropa vieja stuck between his front teeth and the sharp scent of his cheap cologne stung Kerov’s nostrils, making his stomach twist and roll. Desperate, he consulted Frankie’s store of information—what should he do? Knee him in the balls, whispered a thought in his head. It wasn’t Frankie—it was just one of her memories—but Kerov acted on it immediately. Hiking up his leg, he drove his knee into Carlos’s balls as hard as he could. “Ow! Oh, you bitch!” Carlos howled, sinking to the ground and clutching his wounded sack. “You deserved it,” Kerov said through gritted teeth. Though it wasn’t something he would have done in a fight in his own body, he felt it was justified here. Frankie’s body was smaller and weaker and this idiot had refused to take no for an answer. He just wished that the abrupt action hadn’t jostled his belly. More and more he was sorry he had eaten so much. He was beginning to feel nauseous —extremely nauseous. Of course, Carlos’s howls and screams brought all of Frankie’s family running out of the house. “What happened? What happened?” a dozen voices demanded both in English and Spanish. Though he was still writhing on the ground, Carlos wasn’t too wounded to talk. “She kicked me,” he moaned, pointing a trembling finger at Kerov. “Right in the

cojones!” “What?” Frankie’s mother turned on Kerov, her face red with rage. “How could you kick him in his babymakers? How am I ever going to get grandchildren from you if you damage your husband’s equipment?” This was more than Kerov could take. His stomach was rolling, his head was pounding and now he had to contend with more accusations about “poor wounded Carlos.” He couldn’t stand any more. “Listen to me!” he roared—or shouted, anyway—Frankie’s voice couldn’t quite manage a roar. “This male is not Frankie’s mate! She divorced him because he was an inconsiderate ass and a poor lover who always put his own pleasure before hers. She deserves better than this fucking idiot and if I have anything to say about it, she’ll get better than him. Now leave…me…alone!” For a moment there was shocked silence and all of Frankie’s family looked at Kerov as though he was crazy. Then Frankie’s grandmother began to wail and sway dramatically. “Dios mio!” she moaned. “Oh, my heart…I don’t think I can take this…” “Catch her!” Kerov heard one of Frankie’s sister’s crying. “Abuela’s going to faint!” A dozen hands reached out to catch the little old lady. Somehow Kerov managed to struggle his way out of the crowd, well aware that Frankie’s family were staring at him from the corners of their eyes as he went. He felt sick—both mentally and physically. He had been so determined to do well pretending to be Frankie at this gathering. Instead, he had completely exposed himself. Even if her family didn’t guess that a stranger was inhabiting her body, they would think she had taken leave of her senses and was now completely insane. I’m sorry, Frankie, he thought miserably. I fucked up again. Suddenly he found himself face to face with a very worried looking Lacy. “Frankie, what happened?” she demanded. “What was that all about? Why are you talking about yourself in the third person again? Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” Kerov said and vomited all over the front of Frankie’s dress. Lacy had taken him home, mercifully driving in silence. But though she asked no questions, she kept giving him strange looks. Twice on the way home he’d had to ask her to pull over so he could vomit again. The second time, she ventured to ask a tentative question. “Do you think you’re sick? Is that the problem? Was it something you ate that was making you act so…so not yourself?” “I don’t know,” Kerov said dully, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. “I only ate the food abuela served me. Ropa vieja, puerco asado, chicharones…” “But that’s all meat!” Lacy exclaimed. “No wonder your body rebelled—you haven’t had a bite of meat in over two years. You’re a vegetarian—why would you eat all that?” “I don’t know,” Kerov groaned, as his belly heaved again. “It seemed…seemed like a good idea at the time.” He fervently wished now that he hadn’t eaten it. It had never occurred to him that Frankie’s body might have trouble processing animal protein but it did make sense since she was clearly unused to eating it. I’m so sick of this, he thought bitterly. So sick of being trapped in another’s body. So sick of being sick in another’s body. Gods, I just want to go home! At last they arrived back at Frankie’s domicile. It had taken some talking but he finally convinced Lacy that he just wanted to be by himself and “sleep it off” as she put it. And now, here he was. Kerov sighed. Home at last. Frankie’s home, anyway. He just had to wash up and then he would lie down for some much needed rest. And maybe, just maybe, he would wake up in his own body. Goddess grant it will be so, he prayed. Though he had never been much of a true believer before, he was desperate now. Oh please, Goddess, please…

“Well, this is the place.” Jorn’s tank stopped in front of a small, square dwelling surrounded by a neatly clipped lawn of purple grass. To Frankie it looked like the Tarsian version of the suburbs. “So, this is it? I guess I just go…knock on their door?” Frankie looked out of the high tank window nervously. “And you really think they’ll be okay with it? I mean, this is a pretty big deal, isn’t it?” “If they’re not accepting, call me,” Jorn said. “I’ll be certain you don’t come to harm while you’re holding Kerov’s place. But I think they…” He nodded at the small house. “Will be better able to advise you than anyone else.” “I hope you’re right.” Frankie turned and gave him a smile. “You know, you’re really a wonderful friend. I’m so sorry about…for everything,” she ended lamely. “You mean for the way Kerov can never return my feelings?” He sighed. “Don’t be sorry. It cannot be helped. I knew it even before he Switched with you.” “Well you don’t have to stay here on Tarsia and be miserable,” Frankie told him. “You should move to someplace where you’re allowed to love whoever you want.” He sighed. “Maybe I should at that. I’m almost certain my military career here is ruined—as is Kerov’s, for which I am heartily sorry.” “That wasn’t your fault,” Frankie assured him. “It sounds like that Brigadier person had it out for him from the beginning.” “Unfortunately you’re right.” He shook his head. “Kerov tried to warn me that there was still too much prejudice against his people for him to rise higher in the ranks than Commander but I didn’t believe him. I didn’t want to believe him.” “I’m just not sure how I’m going to break the news to him once he gets back,” Frankie said glumly. “You know, the two of us have been screwing up each other’s lives since this started but I think I did a worse job in Kerov’s body than he’s done in mine.”

“Tonight was not your fault,” Jorn said kindly. “Even Kerov himself would have had a reaction to those slugs—any Kindred would.” “Yes, but it wasn’t just the slugs—I overdosed General Sponge Bob on that soy sauce tears drink,” Frankie pointed out. “And bumped chunnels with him. Kerov wouldn’t have done that.” “I’m partly to blame for that,” Jorn said. “I was the one who forced you to wear another male’s chunnel.” “You’re very sweet to try and make me feel better,” Frankie told him. “But I’m mostly to blame and I’m the one who’s going to have to tell Kerov his career is over.” “Maybe it won’t be so bad for him. He can always go another branch of the Kindred—they are everywhere across the universe. They go wherever there is a viable genetic trade to be had,” Jorn said. “Well, I know there’s a bunch of them circling my home planet now,” Frankie said. “They live in the Kindred Mother Ship. Maybe Kerov could go there.” She sighed. “If he ever comes back to his body and I ever get back to mine.” “I’m certain you will get everything straightened out. They can help you.” Jorn nodded out the window at the small, cozy looking house. “When you speak to Kerov again, tell him I said I am sorry for everything that transpired at the banquet. I only had his best interests at heart.” “I know.” Frankie’s heart swelled at the longing way he was looking at her. He’d been in love with Kerov for years and now he was losing him forever. Impulsively, she leaned across the seat and took Jorn’s narrow face in her hands. This was something he had probably dreamed of and fantasized about— something that could never happen if Kerov was in his own body. But I’m here now—Jorn’s been such a good friend. The least I can do is give him a little taste of his fantasy, she thought. She drew closer to Jorn, who’s deep purple-black eyes had widened with uncertainty. “What…what are you doing?” he breathed.

“I’m giving you what Kerov can’t give—I’m kissing you. Now shut up and let me do it,” Frankie murmured. Then she brought their mouths together and gave Kerov’s best friend a long, lingering kiss. Suddenly, she felt someone else in her head. “What’s this? What’s going on?” a familiar voice demanded. “What are you doing? Why are you using my body to kiss someone? Who are you kissing?” Frankie’s eyes flew open and she broke the kiss hastily. When she pulled back, Jorn looked at her dreamily, one hand coming up to his mouth to touch the place their lips had met. “Jorn? You were kissing Jorn?” Kerov roared in her head. “Shut up—I had a good reason to do it,” Frankie ordered. Explanations would have to wait though—she needed to get out of Jorn’s tank and do what had to be done. “What? What reason could be good enough to kiss another male while you were in my body…which is also male?” he demanded. Frankie started to answer but just then, Jorn reached for her hand and squeezed it. “Thank you,” he murmured, giving her a sad smile. “I have…dreamed of such a thing for so many years. But I know you’re right—Kerov could never have given it to me himself.” “What? He what? He dreamed of kissing me?” Kerov sounded bewildered. “Why would he wish such a thing?” “Because he’s in love with you, you big dumb Kindred,” Frankie shot back, exasperated. Aloud, she said to Jorn, “Well, I guess I’d better get going.” “Call on me if you need me—I’ll be here,” he promised. “You’re a true friend,” Frankie told him, squeezing his hand one last time.

“Kerov is lucky to have you.” Then she opened the door latch and jumped out of the tank—it was a long jump since the giant inflated balloon-tires made it so high. She gave one last wave as the tank rolled away, then she turned and faced the neat little house in the middle of the purple lawn. “What are we doing here?” Kerov asked and she could feel his apprehension. “What are you planning to do?” “You came back just in time,” Frankie told him. “We’re about to come out to your parents.”

Seventeen

“We’re about to what?” Kerov demanded. “What does that mean, ‘come out’?” “It means we’re going to it you’re a Switcher or a Jumper or whatever you want to call it and ask for their advice,” Frankie said firmly. “They are the people you meant when you said you had someone you could talk to, aren’t they?” “Yes,” he itted. “Though I didn’t want to tell them—I fear it will be a grave disappointment to them. But I don’t know where else to turn and I know they will not betray me.” “Jorn wouldn’t have betrayed you either,” Frankie told him. “He cares for you a lot.” “You seem to have gotten extremely cozy with Jorn since we last spoke,” Kerov muttered. “What—you mean the kiss?” Frankie asked, frowning. “Yes, I mean the kiss—what in the Seven Hells was that about?” “Didn’t you hear me back in the tank?” Frankie demanded. “He loves you—he’s in love with you and has been for years. I kissed him to make his fantasy come true—just a little anyway. He deserved it—he saved my ass tonight. And yours too, for that matter.” “But…a male cannot love another male.” Kerov sounded confused. “Not here they can’t but it’s not forbidden everywhere,” Frankie pointed out. “People should be allowed to love who they want to love.” “And so you used my body to kiss him in order to thank him for ‘saving your ass’ as you put it? How was your ass in peril?” he demanded. “Well…” Frankie shifted uncomfortably. This was the moment she’d been dreading. “I, uh…the banquet didn’t exactly go as well as it could have,” she said at last. “What exactly do you mean by that?” Kerov’s voice was ominously soft inside

her head. “Tell me what happened. Everything that happened.” “Well to begin with—” “Kerov? Is that you?” A voice from the doorway of the small house made Frankie jerk her head up. Standing in the lighted doorway was a Kindred couple Frankie recognized from the picture on Kerov’s wall back at his domicile. They were good looking and appeared to be in their late thirties or early forties. The woman was tall and had green eyes and green streaks in her wheat blonde hair. The man, who looked like an older version of Kerov, stood straight and tall, his broad shoulders almost filling the doorway. He had the same pale gray eyes ringed in inky black that had so disturbed Frankie before she got to know Kerov. “Wow,” she sent mentally. “Are those your parents? They don’t look old enough to have a son your age.” “They are actually in their mid sixties. Kindred age slowly.” “Kerov?” the Kindred woman said again, stepping forward. “Son, what are you doing standing outside talking to yourself?” “He’s not talking to himself—are you, son?” Kerov’s father had a knowing look on his face as he turned to Kerov’s mother. “Don’t you see, Melisand? It’s happened just as I said it would—our son has finally found the female he is fated to be mated to. He’s Switched.” “Shh! Lower your voice, Tarkov!” Kerov’s mother looked around anxiously even though the other small houses in the sleeping neighborhood were all quiet and dark. “Don’t say such things outside.” She motioned at Frankie. “Come in— come in!” Frankie came inside quickly, well aware that they didn’t want Kerov’s secret getting out. Once they were all inside the house, Kerov’s mother closed the door quickly and then stood back to inspect her. “Let me look at you,” she said, smiling hopefully. “Is it true? Have you actually Switched with our son?”

“I have. I mean, we have—Switched that is,” Frankie said, lifting her chin. “But it wasn’t on purpose or anything—it was an accident. And I’m Frankie, by the way.” “Frankie?” Kerov’s father frowned. “That’s not a Tarsian name. Tell me, future mate of my son, where do you hail from?” “Whoa,” Frankie thought at Kerov. “Future mate of my son? What’s that all about.” “Ignore them.” Kerov sounded embarrassed. “I think my mother is just excited because she hopes you will give her little ones to be a second mother to.” “You mean like a grandmother? She wants you to have kids? She’s as bad as my mom,” Frankie sent. Then she realized that Kerov’s parents were still waiting patiently for her to answer. “I’m from Earth,” she said to them. “But it’s not…not like that between Kerov and me. I mean, we only Switched by accident.” “The Goddess does not put anyone together by accident, my dear.” Frankie’s mother smiled at her. “I assure you, if she allowed you to Switch bodies with each other, then she means for you to be bonded.” “But we’re not completely Switched,” Frankie protested. “It’s only a…what did Kerov call it—an incomplete Switch. In fact, he’s here with me right now, only I’m the one in control of his body.” She shrugged. “It’s really weird.” “No, it’s perfectly natural for your first Switch,” Kerov’s father assured her. “That is often how it happens. It is how it happened for us.” He smiled fondly at Kerov’s mother who returned his loving expression. “Wait a minute—they Switch? They are Jumpers?” Kerov demanded inside her head. “I can tell by the look on your face that Kerov is saying something,” Kerov’s mother said. “Would you like to tell us what it is?” “I think he’s surprised that you two are able to Switch,” Frankie said. “And I am too, actually. I thought it was completely illegal here.”

“Oh, it is.” Kerov’s father nodded soberly. “Which is why we kept it a secret, even from our son.” “We knew—we hoped—the day would come when he would Switch with a girl himself,” his mother said. “He has too much pure Kindred DNA not to. But until it happened, we couldn’t say anything. And now it has finally happened.” She stepped forward and took Frankie’s hands. “Oh, I’m so happy to meet you, future mate of my son! I’m sure you’re a lovely girl!” “Well, I don’t look anything like a Tarsian,” Frankie said carefully. “But I do okay on my own planet. So…” She cleared her throat. “You two have been, uh Switching for years now?” “Of course.” Kerov’s father looked lovingly at Kerov’s mother. “Do you the first time I Jumped into your body, Melisand?” She laughed flirtatiously. “How could I forget? I had just taken a bath and I was naked and looking in the viewer at myself. And then, suddenly, you were there— seeing everything.” “I knew from that moment that I had to have you,” Kerov’s father murmured, putting an arm around her. “When I saw your beautiful body on display…” “Ugh!” Kerov exclaimed involuntarily inside Frankie’s head. “Tell them to stop —please!” “Um, I don’t think Kerov wants to hear about your love life,” Frankie said apologetically. “You know, it’s kind of weird hearing about your parents being, uh, intimate with each other.” She could feel herself blushing as she said it and she hoped she wasn’t offending them. But she could certainly understand how Kerov felt—she wouldn’t want to hear about her own parents getting busy either. To her surprise, Kerov’s father smiled and his mother laughed. “That’s all right, my dear—we quite understand,” she said. “But let Kerov tell us himself.” Frankie raised her hands. “How?” “Close your eyes a moment,” Kerov’s father instructed. “Imagine you are

holding a ball made of pure white light. This ball we will call ‘control.’ Right now, you hold it completely. But if you can give it to Kerov, he should be able to use his mouth, at least.” “Though I doubt he’ll be able to use his other faculties. That won’t be possible until you’re actually bonded,” his mother said. “But we’re not going to be bonded—we barely know each other,” Frankie protested before she thought about it. “Uh, I mean…” she shifted uncomfortably. “I just don’t want you to be, you know, disappointed. Thinking that I’m the love of your son’s life when actually nothing could be further from the truth.” “Nothing could be further from the truth? Is that how you really feel?” Kerov asked quietly when she finally stopped babbling, feeling miserably embarrassed. “I just…don’t want them to get their hopes up—that’s all. I mean, we already established I’m not your type,” Frankie sent back defensively. “No, you established that.” Kerov seemed to shake himself mentally. “Never mind—let’s do as my Sire says. Try and picture yourself giving the ball of light— the control—to me.” “All right.” Taking a deep breath, Frankie closed her eyes. She imagined herself in a dark room, holding a large, luminous ball in her hands—kind of like a basketball made of light. Then she imagined Kerov standing in front of her with his broad shoulders and piercing gray eyes. “Here you go,” she said formally, handing him the ball. “Thank you,” Kerov said and to Frankie’s surprise, she heard his voice coming out of her mouth. No—it’s his mouth. I was just borrowing it, she reminded herself. “Mother, Sire, it’s me,” Kerov said and though she felt his lips move and his throat vibrate, the words weren’t hers. It was almost as strange as being trapped in her own body with him at the controls. “Very good. We hear you, my Son,” Kerov’s mother said, smiling. “And , if Frankie wishes to speak again, simply visualize yourself giving back the ball of light and control and allow her to have her say.”

“I think she’s said enough,” Kerov growled and Frankie could feel his anger and hurt radiating against her like heat from a heap of glowing embers. Was he really that upset about her telling his parents they weren’t together? Well what was she supposed to do? Lie? “Come now, son—don’t treat your future mate with disrespect.” Kerov’s father gave him a disapproving look. “Frankie told you,” Kerov said harshly. “She’s not my mate and has no wish to become so. So could the two of you please not speak so of her anymore? I believe you’re making her uncomfortable.” “What’s making me uncomfortable is the way you’re being a jerk,” Frankie shot at him. “I’m doing the best I can for you here—I got you here to your parents’ house and they’re supposed to be able to help. So let’s ask them for help!” “Frankie wants to know if you can help us,” Kerov said to his parents. “Both of us are thoroughly sick of being stuck in each other’s bodies and we have been ruining each other’s lives.” He cleared his throat. “Most recently I had an altercation with both Frankie’s ex-mate as well as her family.” “What?” Frankie demanded. “Dios—what happened?” “What happened at the banquet?” he shot back. “You never told me.” “Let me talk out loud and maybe I will,” Frankie snapped. “I gave you the ball and now you’re refusing to share—you’re being a real dick!” “Fine,” he muttered stiffly. “But there is no need to refer to me in that way. Here.” Once more, Frankie saw both of them standing in a dark room. This time Kerov was holding the light basketball. He ed it to her without a word, tossing it lightly. Frankie caught it without thinking. “All right—you have control,” he sent. “Now what happened at the banquet?” Frankie cleared her throat. “Well first of all, you could have warned me that the entire feast was freaking

meat. You know I’m a vegetarian.” “Now toss the ball back, Frankie,” Kerov’s mother interrupted. “If you can get into the habit of tossing the ball back and forth as you speak, both of you can be heard at once.” “All right.” Frankie tossed the ball back and Kerov caught it. “Yes, I know you’re vegetarian,” he said grimly. “I have learned it the hard way several times over. Most recently when I evacuated the contents of your stomach all over your abuela’s front lawn.” “You threw up again?” Frankie asked. “I did too! I, uh…” She coughed. “I sort of blew chunks in front of the Brigadier guy.” “What?” Kerov roared. “You vomited in front of Brigadier Tlox?” “I couldn’t help it!” Frankie protested, catching the ball as he tossed it back. “He fed me slugs. Really bad ones—the kind that Kindred can’t digest without getting sick. Belly slugs, I think they were called.” “What?” Kerov’s father or Sire as he called him, interrupted. “Kerov’s Superior gave him belii slugs?” “Yes—and he was really sneaky about it,” Frankie said. “He disguised them as chocolate chip ice cream. I ate almost the whole bowl before I realized what they were.” “But belii slugs are poisonous to Kindred.” Kerov’s father looked concerned. “Why would his superior give him such a thing?” “To catch him Switching,” Frankie said grimly. “He said that they caused a Kindred to show if he was a Jumper and if he was currently Switched with another person.” “Do they? I had not heard that,” Kerov’s mother said. Frankie nodded. “They do—they cause you to sweat this awful green slime. Only Kerov’s best friend Jorn saved me by telling the Brigadier the reason I was sweating was because I was wearing another man’s—uh male’s—chunnel and

the slugs were reacting to that.” “You wore another male’s chunnel?” Kerov’s father exclaimed, his brows knitting. “Not by choice,” Kerov protested when Frankie tossed him the ball. “We were going to a formal banquet and Frankie had forgotten to bring my own chunnel from my domicile. I had no choice.” “All right, Kerov.” Kerov’s mother put a hand on his father’s arm. “I’m certain it couldn’t be helped.” She turned to Frankie. “At any rate, I am glad that Jorn helped to cover for you and save the situation.” “Well, I wouldn’t call it saved exactly,” Frankie itted reluctantly as Kerov tossed the ball back. “I think it’s clear that the Brigadier has it out for Kerov. He said a lot of really nasty things and said he had been planning to try and catch Kerov Switching for a long time.” Kerov groaned. “Of all times for him to actually be right about me! I’ve been accused of being a Jumper before but the one time when it really matters the accusations are actually true.” “I’m really sorry,” Frankie said unhappily. “I didn’t mean to screw up, honestly I didn’t, Kerov. I wanted to do things right for you—I really did.” He sighed. “That’s all right. It’s only my career that you ruined. I haven’t done much better for you—I’m afraid your entire family thinks you are mentally ill now.” “What?” Frankie exclaimed. They were tossing the ball of light back and forth so naturally now she didn’t even have to think about it. “What are you talking about? What did you do?” “I did the best I could at pretending to be you at your family gathering,” Kerov growled. “But your ex-mate, Carlos, came after me and insisted on trying to kiss and molest me. I couldn’t get away—your body is not strong enough. So I kneed him in the testicles.” “Good for you!” Frankie said and she could feel his surprise.

“You’re not angry at me?” “Not for that. But what happened afterwards that made my family think I’m crazy?” “Well…” He coughed. “Carlos screamed and they all came running out. Your mother berated me for kicking him in his ‘babymakers’ and demanded to know how she would ever get young from you if you insisted on kicking your mate in the groin. She and your grandmother had been after me all evening about how they expect you to go back to Carlos and have his young and I got…” “Yes?” Frankie prodded gently. “I got really angry,” he itted. “I was already full of your grandmother’s excellent meat—” “My abuela’s what now?” Frankie asked. “You know—her roast pork and old clothes,” Kerov said. “I didn’t realize that your body couldn’t handle such food. It made me ill and feeling sick and the way Carlos had attacked me made me angry. So I shouted to your family that Carlos was no fit mate for you and that you were never going back to him. Then I threw up all over your clothing and Lacy took me home.” “Dios—what a mess.” Frankie sighed and shook her head and then looked at his parents. “You see what we’re going through? At least when you guys Switched you were from the same planet—you knew what was expected of you. Kerov and I are from two different worlds—being in each other’s bodies is screwing everything up for both of us. So please, can you tell us how to Switch back?” Kerov’s father frowned. “Unfortunately, we cannot, Frankie.” “The only way we know of to end an incomplete Switch and have control over the whole Switching process is for the two of you to bond permanently. But apparently this is not what you wish.” Kerov’s mother looked sad. Frankie felt terrible. “Look, it’s not that I don’t like Kerov,” she said quickly. “I mean, I do—I really do. He’s handsome and brave and kind and good with animals and he’s been a

real sport through this whole thing, trying to do everything he could to keep my world on track. It’s just, well, I want my body back. I want my life back,” she emphasized, leaning forward. “I want my life back too,” Kerov added as she ed him the ball. “If there is any life to get back to,” he added darkly, clearly thinking of his ruined military career. “Then you will have to consult the Goddess—or one of her priestesses,” Kerov’s father said with finality. “It was the Goddess who put you together—it is my guess that only she can take you apart.” “But there are no priestesses on Tarsia. All outer practice of religion has been outlawed by The State,” Kerov protested. “Which is why you must travel to another place entirely—one that is more free than this world we have chosen to settle on,” Kerov’s mother said quietly. She looked up at his father. “Do you still have with anyone on the Mother Ship?” He nodded. “I do—my old friend Terex had risen very high in the ranks there. I believe he was even the head of the Council for a time.” “Get in touch with him,” Kerov’s mother said. “Tell him that your only son needs transport to the Mother Ship. No place else can this matter be resolved.” “I will do as you say, Melisand.” Kerov’s father leaned forward, looking at them earnestly. “But even though the two of you want to Switch out of each other’s bodies permanently, there is something you must know—while the two of you are Switched, please, be careful.” “Careful of what?” Frankie asked, feeling a knot of apprehension form in her gut. “A Switched soul is a fragile thing,” Kerov’s mother said. “While the two of you are in each other’s bodies you are vulnerable.” “Vulnerable how?” Kerov demanded. “To disease? Illness? What?” “To death,” Kerov’s father said grimly. “, if you should die while in

the body of your host, you will not return to your own form—you will die with the body you are in.” “Oh,” Frankie whispered, putting a hand to her mouth. Such a thing had never occurred to her but now she found the very idea made her feel sick to her stomach. “Not that we think either one of you will be in mortal peril just from Switching with each other,” Kerov’s mother hastened to reassure her. “It’s just something you need to know. When you’re in your host’s body, you are responsible for it. Take care of it because it is the vessel that carries your life force—your soul. And if it dies, you die with it.” “I promise I’ll take very good care of your son’s body,” Frankie vowed, hoping to keep her from worrying. “Honestly—I’ve been trying all along. The only danger I got into was when I had to ride his grizzly bear thing, Ursa—but she’s actually pretty tame. Oh, and when I ate the slug ice cream but that was by accident.” “Kerov—can you say you have been taking care with Frankie’s body as well?” his father asked, giving them a stern look. “Well…yes,” Kerov said a bit too slowly, Frankie thought. “What?” she asked him mentally. “What did you do that wasn’t safe? Come on —I can tell something happened.” “Aside from kicking your ex-mate in his balls? Nothing but drive your vehicle to the yoga studio.” “What?” Frankie exclaimed aloud. “You drove my car? In Tampa traffic? Without knowing any of the driving rules or street signs or anything? You could have gotten me killed!” “That was what Lacy said,” Kerov muttered, sounding resentful. “It was actually her car that I drove.” “It doesn’t matter whose car it was—that was a crazy thing to do! I didn’t try to drive your vehicle,” Frankie said.

“It was…a momentary lapse in judgment. I was trying so hard to keep up the pretense that I was you and when she asked me to drive, well…I did.” “That was very foolish, son,” Kerov’s father said, frowning. “You’re lucky you survived.” “I am aware of that,” Kerov growled. “And I vow never to do anything dangerous or life threatening while in another’s body again. Now can we please call the Mother Ship and get this problem fixed?” “I’ll get the coordinates,” his father said, getting up. “I just hope that my old friend Terex is in a position to help us.” He sighed. “Goddess knows if you’re not welcomed aboard the Mother Ship, I don’t know what you’ll do.”

Eighteen

“So you haven’t had any more dreams lately?” Liv asked, eyeing Kate curiously. She and Sophie and Kat—who had become Kate’s touchstone because she had also survived the birth of Kindred triplets—were sitting in Sophie’s living area having girl talk and snacking on some of the delicious cupcakes from their cousin Lauren’s shop. “I did have one but it was very brief,” Kate itted, reaching for another Deep Dark Devil’s Food cupcake. “Um, you’re sure I can have this without blowing up like a balloon?” “Relax, doll.” Kat smiled at her. “You’re eating for four now—?” “And carrying a Kindred baby burns so many calories you pretty much need to eat as much as you can,” Sophie lectured. “Especially if you’re carrying multiples.” “They’re right—you’re okay to have another,” Liv promised, smiling. “And I’m a nurse so I ought to know. But go on and tell us about your dream.” “Well, it wasn’t exactly a Knowing dream…” Kate was still a little hesitant to talk about her sixth sense but her new friends seemed to accept her ability without question which gave her confidence. “I saw a glimpse—just a flash really of a man—a Kindred. He had dark blond hair and pale gray eyes. But he was there and gone so fast I barely saw him. Then I heard a woman’s voice saying, ‘The one who Jumps True approaches. Be ready to receive him.” “A woman’s voice, huh?” Liv frowned. “Did it sound really deep and rich and more than human somehow?” Kate nodded. “Yes, it did—how did you know?” “It might have been the Goddess,” Sophie said quietly. “She comes to people sometimes in different ways.” “But how can I watch out for this person? And what does it mean, someone who Jumps True?” Kate protested. “A good question and one we have been considering ever since your mate told us

of your first Knowing dream and the prophesy it contained,” a deep, male voice said. Sylvan came into the room and leaned down to kiss Sophie affectionately. He still wore a large white bandage on his thumb where the bite he’d received from the strange guinea pig type creature had refused to heal. Kate knew that her mate, Rone, had offered to donate blood so that the healing factor of his Wulven Kindred DNA might be infused into Sylvan’s own genetic material. Personally, she thought Sylvan ought to take Rone up on the offer but he hadn’t yet. “The twins are down for their nap, talana,” Sylvan told Sophie. “I should go back to the Command Sector.” Sophie sighed. “I’m glad you were able to make time to see them today. Being head of the Council is taking more and more of your time.” “I know and I’m truly sorry.” Sylvan frowned. “It’s a heavy burden which I am trying to balance with our family life.” “Well I don’t know many CEOs back on Earth who leave in the middle of the day to rock their babies to sleep,” Liv told him, smiling. “I think you’re doing okay, Sylvan.” “I am trying,” he said gravely. “But sometimes I wish this burden had not come to me. If only Terex had not been incapacitated during the battle with the demons from the Black Planet…he was a good and fit leader. And he had no mate or children to worry about so he had an easier time performing the duties of leadership.” “He was a good leader when it was him in his skin and not that awful demon, Ur.” Kat shivered. “I can’t even imagine being invaded that way! What is he doing now, Sylvan?” “I have made certain he has a seat on the Council but he hardly ever speaks up,” Sylvan said soberly. “I fear that his possession by the demon shamed and scarred him.” He sighed. “I wish there was some way to make him feel himself again.” “Well, you can’t make everybody happy, honey.” Sophie squeezed her husband’s arm comfortingly. “I know you’re doing your best. Maybe what he needs is time.”

“No, what he really needs is some nookie,” Kat said frankly. “I’ve seen him— he’s a good looking guy. He needs to find a girl and get busy.” “You know that isn’t how it works, Kat,” Sylvan said quietly. “Terex’s first mate died and like as not, his desire died with her. Kindred often don’t survive the loss of their mates and rarely take another mate afterwards.” He shook his head. “My own father was a rare exception but most males refuse another mate if the one they first bond with dies.” “I just don’t see—” Kate began but just then there was a knocking at the front door of Sophie and Sylvan’s suite. “Come,” Sylvan called, raising his voice to be heard. The door slid open and the whole room suddenly fell into a hush. Standing in the doorway was a tall Kindred warrior. He was a Blood Kindred like Sylvan but he looked to be about ten years older with the faintest touch of silver at the temples of his dark blond hair. His eyes were an unusually dark shade of blue that was almost violet and he had the broad shoulders and heavy musculature that was the birthright of all Kindred males, no matter what their race. “Ah…” Sylvan seemed at a loss for words and Kate could feel how uncomfortable everyone was. “What is it?” she whispered to Sophie, who was sitting right beside her on the couch. “What’s wrong?” “That’s Commander Terex,” Sophie hissed back, barely moving her lips and pitching her voice so low Kate could barely hear her. “The one we were all just talking about. God, I hope he didn’t hear us!” “Commander Terex,” Sylvan said, striding forward and breaking the awkward silence. “You are welcome in my suite. Is everything well with you?” “With me, yes.” Commander Terex strode forward and clasped forearms with Sylvan. He had a deep, natural baritone voice and Kate could see by the purposeful way he moved that he was used to commanding others. No wonder he used to be the Head of the Council! “Then is there trouble elsewhere?” Sylvan asked him.

“I don’t know if you would classify it as trouble—more a favor I am seeking.” Terex kept his head lifted proudly but Kate could see the effort it cost him to ask Sylvan for anything. Sylvan seemed to sense it too because his voice was oddly gentle when he replied. “Anything I can do for you, Commander. You have only to name it.” “Thank you.” Terex cleared his throat. “I have an old friend on Tarsia—the planet where the Switch Kindred settled.” “Yes?” Sylvan asked, frowning. Kate’s ears perked up and she leaned forward eagerly. Had he really just said the Switch Kindred? “You mean the ones who can Jump into their mate’s bodies?” Liv asked excitedly. “Yes, exactly. They used to have that ability before the natives of Tarsia tried to breed it out of them,” Terex said. “However, my friend does have this ability and now, apparently so does his son. He has formed an incomplete Switch with a female from Earth and he needs help to resolve the issue. Help he can only receive here on the Mother Ship.” “This is excellent.” Sylvan’s pale blue eyes were shining with excitement. “Terex, do you see—this plays into the prophesy we received from the Goddess. ‘An old threat made new, Within silence grew, can only be solved, By one who Jumps True.’ This must be what it was talking about.” Terex frowned. “Forgive me—I fear I was ill and missed that particular meeting. But it sounds as though my friend’s son is the one you are looking for.” “Not only that, Kate just had another dream saying that the One who Jumps True is coming and we should get ready for him!” Sophie said excitedly. “And now it’s all coming together.” Terex bowed his head. “May the will of the Goddess—no matter how incomprehensible—hold sway.” He looked at Sylvan. “Will you fold space and allow a shuttle to go and pick up my friend’s son? And of course, the girl will have to be transported up from Earth’s surface so they can consult a priestess

together.” “Yes, of course—arrangements will be made at once. Do you still have them up on the viewscreen?” Sylvan asked. “I do, in the Communications room. But I can have the call transferred to your own private viewscreen if you wish,” Terex said stiffly. Sylvan nodded eagerly. “Please do.” Terex spoke a few words into a comlink in his hand. In a moment, the viewscreen mounted on the wall of Sylvan’s living area flickered to life, showing three people. Kate saw a Kindred couple and sitting beside them was a tall, blond Kindred male who looked enough like them that he must be their son. She felt a jolt of recognition and reached out to squeeze Liv’s hand. “That’s him,” she whispered in a low voice. “That’s the one—the man I saw in my dream!” “Oh my God!” Liv whispered back, returning her squeeze excitedly. “Greetings again, my friends,” Terex said. “This is Commander Sylvan, the Head of the Kindred High Council. And this,” he said to Sylvan, “Is my old friend Tarkov, his mate Melisand, and their son Kerov.” “And Frankie,” said the Kindred Terex had introduced as Kerov. “sca Benita Hermosa Rodriguez but I go by Frankie for short.” Kate frowned. Though the voice coming from Kerov’s mouth was deep and masculine, the tone of it was somehow light and feminine. Then he spoke again and his voice changed into something that was unmistakably male. “Frankie is stuck in my body right now, the same way I’ve been stuck in her body back on Earth,” he said. “We have an incomplete Switch and my Sire and Mother believe the only way to end it is to see a priestess in your Sacred Grove, Commander Sylvan.” “You are, of course, very welcome here,” Sylvan said. “In fact, we have been

looking for someone with your abilities for some time.” “You have?” Kerov asked—only it was Frankie talking—somehow Kate could tell although it was difficult to say how. “Why is that?” “Apparently there is some kind of a prophesy associated with it,” Terex said, frowning. “But to be honest, we do not know the full meaning.” “Frankie and I don’t care about any prophesy,” Kerov said stiffly. “We just need to be separated so we can get on with our own lives.” Kate thought he sounded hurt—maybe the separation was more the girl’s idea than his? She wished she could reach through the viewscreen and touch him— she was certain her Knowing would tell her all about it if she could. “We will send a shuttle for you at once,” Sylvan told Kerov. “And Frankie—or whichever of you is inhabiting her body—must go to the nearest Human Kindred Relations building.” “That should be no problem,” Kerov said. “I will make my way there as soon as I awake. Frankie lives in an urban center that goes by the name of Tampa and I have seen in her memories that there is a HKR building downtown.” “Oh, we’re from Tampa too!” Sophie gave a little wave which Frankie returned, smiling. “Which part do you come from?” she asked. “I’m in an apartment not far from USF because I’m getting my Masters there.” “I got my nursing degree there,” Liv said, smiling. “Go Bulls! It’s nice to hear from another Tampa girl.” “So…not to interrupt old home week but how does this work, if you don’t mind me asking,” Kate said, speaking up. “Are you both trapped in one body at the same time or sometimes you switch bodies or what?” “If we’re both awake, I’m in Kerov’s body and he’s in mine,” Frankie replied. “But if one of us is asleep, then both of us seem to migrate to the body which is awake,” Kerov finished for her. “However, the one who is visiting the host body

is the one which controls it.” Kat gave a long, low whistle. “Wow—that must make for an interesting time.” “It’s been a complete disaster from the word go,” Frankie said, sounding upset. “I’ve screwed up Kerov’s life and career completely and, well…my own life isn’t doing so great either.” “I did the best I could with your family and your ex-mate,” Kerov said stiffly, clearly put on the defensive. “How did I know your grandmother’s old clothes would make me vomit? But at least I didn’t heave the contents of my stomach onto your direct superior.” “Madre de Dios! You should have warned me that the ‘banquet’ you sent me to would consist of blood jelly and raw bone marrow,” Frankie said, sounding equally upset. “Which I was keeping down nicely, thank you very much, until your pendejo boss fed me slug ice cream! It wasn’t my fault I threw up!” They continued bickering and Kate thought it was the oddest thing she’d ever seen. Hearing both voices coming out of one body was so strange. “Enough, please.” Sylvan raised a hand to stop the fighting. “I can see that the two of you need to be separated,” he said quietly. “Accordingly, I’m sending the shuttle to Tarsia Six at once. And I’ll have someone standing by to welcome Kerov in Frankie’s body at the Tampa HKR building as soon as she…er he can make his way there.” “The sooner the better,” Kerov muttered. Frankie frowned. “I agree!” She looked at Liv. “Hi, um, what was your name again?” “I’m Liv and this is my twin sister Sophie, our best friend Kat, and Kate, our new friend,” Liv said, making the introductions. “It’s nice to meet you, Liv.” Frankie smiled, and though she was using Kerov’s mouth and face to do it, her facial expressions were unmistakably feminine. “I was wondering if you could do me a favor? Could you call my cell phone and wake my body up so Kerov can get right over to the HKR building?”

“Well, sure, I—” Liv began. “That will not work,” Kerov interrupted dourly. “I silenced your communication device so that your idiotic ex-mate could not wake me with drunken requests to know what I was wearing to bed.” “Oh.” Frankie thought for a minute and then brightened. “All right then, can you please call my best friend Lacy and have her come over and wake my body up? She has a key.” She paused a minute more and Kate thought it looked like she was having some kind of inner monologue with the owner of the body she was trapped in. “What do you mean you didn’t tell Lacy?” she exclaimed, frowning. “She could have handled it—I told your best friend, Jorn and he was okay with it.” “Yes, and then you used my body to kiss him!” Kerov growled. “I told you, I only did that because he’s in love with you. I wanted to let him experience just a little bit of his fantasy because he was so nice and helpful. And besides, it’s sad that he has to live someplace where he’s so repressed.” She looked at Liv. “They’re all completely homophobic here. You can’t even bump chunnels with another guy without everyone freaking out.” Liv frowned. “Uh, bump chunnels? What does that mean? Because I have to tell you, it sounds kind of dirty.” “I know, right?” Frankie said. “But it’s really not. See, chunnel is this tall metal hat—” “The sooner you stop talking and give your new friend Lacy’s communication coordinates, the sooner we can be separated,” Kerov interrupted in a grating voice. “Fine.” Frankie bristled. “I was just trying to explain.” She looked at Liv again. “I do have Lacy’s cell number if one of you has a pen to take it down?” “I’ve got it.” Sophie grabbed a portable tablet and stylus. “Go ahead.” Frankie rattled off a phone number then frowned and bit her lip. “I’m just not sure how you’re going to explain to her why you need her to come wake me up.”

“Listen, it’s no problem,” Liv assured her. “We all got body switched with our guys some time back. So we know what you’re going through.” “You do? Really?” Frankie looked at them hopefully. “Really,” Liv said. “It happened at a really inopportune time, too. My poor husband had to give birth to our first baby.” “What?” Frankie gave a shocked laugh. “And I thought I had it bad! I can’t wait to meet you girls in person. It’ll be wonderful to talk to someone who understands.” “We feel for you,” Sophie said, smiling at her. “And we’re anxious to meet you too.” “Don’t worry—we’ll explain it so that Lacy understands without thinking you’re crazy,” Liv assured her. “Oh, thank you so much.” Frankie clasped her hands together over her heart. Kate thought the girlish gesture looked odd being performed by the big, male Kindred body. Sylvan had been speaking quietly into a comlink as the girls conversed. Now he looked up and spoke to Kerov on the viewscreen. “All right—we are folding space now and a shuttle is on its way to you. Be ready to go as commander Terex has already given me your coordinates.” “I’ll be ready,” Kerov said shortly. “Thank you, Commander.” “We look forward to greeting you,” Sylvan said formally. “And we can’t wait to meet you too, Frankie,” Liv said, smiling. “Oh, but how should we describe you to the person Sylvan sends to meet you? I mean, your regular body.” “Tell them she is a small Earth female with long, beautifully curly black hair, big brown eyes, and a large, luscious posterior,” Kerov said, answering for her. “Kerov!” Frankie exclaimed and blushed.

“Well—it’s true, isn’t it?” “You got the ‘large’ part right anyway,” Frankie muttered. “But yes that’s about right I guess.” “Duly noted,” Sylvan said. “I’ll have someone waiting at the HKR building.” “And I’ll call Lacy right now,” Liv promised. “Thank you! Hopefully I’ll be seeing you soon.” Frankie took over Kerov’s face and smiled again. “Bye!” “End Communication,” Sylvan said and the screen went blank. “Whew.” Liv looked around. “Wow—now there’s a complicated relationship. At least when we got switched with our men we didn’t both have to share the same body. Can you imagine?” “No.” Kat shivered. “And I don’t want to imagine! I’m just glad I didn’t have to switch with my guys.” “They switched with each other, though—didn’t they?” Sophie asked. “I’ll never forget that. Deep in Lock’s body was something I hope I never see again.” Kat laughed. “You and me both, doll. You know, Lock claims there are still people on the Mother Ship that won’t speak to him because of the awful things Deep said to them while he was in his body.” “Okay, well I’d better make this call,” Liv said. “And I don’t want to use a Think-me—it will make the poor girl think she’s going crazy if my voice just pops up in her head.” “I know I thought I was going crazy the first time you ed me that way,” Sophie said. “Here, use my comlink—it’s wired for Ship to Earth communication in case Sylvan has to go down while I’m up here.” “Thanks.” Liv took it from her and punched in the number Frankie had given them. It rang a few times and then Kate heard a sleepy voice on the other side say,

“Hello?” “Hi Lacy,” Liv said. “Listen, you don’t know me but I’m a friend of Frankie’s and I have a favor to ask you…”

Nineteen

“I knew it. I knew something wasn’t right with you! It hasn’t been right for days!” Lacy glanced over at Kerov as she drove. “So you’re not even Frankie, are you? You just what—took over her body? Like some kind of body snatcher?” “I did not ‘snatch’ her body,” Kerov growled. More and more he was wishing that Frankie had not had the bright idea to call her friend. Lacy seemed both righteously vindicated to be right that he was not her friend and angry that he had taken Frankie’s place. “You have a better name for it?” Lacy demanded as she made a turn. She was driving recklessly in Kerov’s opinion but luckily it was still the early hours of the morning so the Tampa streets were all but deserted. “We were Switched, through no fault or intention of mine. Frankie has taken over my body as much as I took over hers and it has not been pleasant for either of us,” he snapped. “Hmph,” Lacy sniffed. “Not pleasant? That’s all you can say after you practically ruined her life? You screwed up her chance to teach Yoga at The Lotus Pond, not to mention sabotaging her date with Professor Ramlow.” “I was not lying when I told you that male had nothing but lecherous interest in Frankie,” Kerov protested. “He did not deserve her.” “Oh, and you think you do?” Lacy spat, obviously getting more and more upset. “As if! You Kindred think you can steal away any woman you want to live up in your Mother Ship—well let me tell you, you can’t have Frankie! She doesn’t want anything to do with the Kindred.” “Yes.” Kerov took a deep breath. “That has been made abundantly clear to me many times over by Frankie herself. Please don’t concern yourself—I know she wants nothing to do with me. That is why we are traveling to the Mother Ship— to get separated from each other so that we can go back to our normal lives.” “If Frankie even has a life to get back to,” Lacy grumbled, sounding only a little appeased. “Her whole family thinks she’s crazy after your outburst last night, you know.”

“Yes, I’m aware of that. Look—the Human Kindred Relations building!” Kerov pointed out the window, feeling a great surge of relief. If he had to hear any more about how he wasn’t good enough for Frankie and how he had ruined her life he thought he might explode. Truly he had done his best for her—he was sorry it hadn’t been good enough. But there was nothing he could do to change the past and he was tired of being chastised for it and reminded of how unworthy he was to be with the petite, lovely Earth girl whose body he was inhabiting. “All right,” Lacy said, pulling in to the parking area. “Do you want me to come with you?” “No, thank you. I prefer to go alone.” Kerov took a deep breath. “Thank you for the ride, however and for waking me up so that I could come here.” Lacy pulled up in front of the building and let her vehicle idle. “I don’t know— maybe I should come with you. How do I know that Frankie will ever come back? I mean, women go up there and they just stay.” “That is because they are bonded to Kindred warriors,” Kerov growled, losing his patience. “Since Frankie has no interest in bonding herself to one of my kind this should not be a problem.” “Well…all right.” She sighed. “But have Frankie call me as soon as she can. And don’t forget the clothes I packed her—she has to have something decent to wear.” “What’s wrong with what I, I mean, her body is wearing now?” Kerov looked down at himself. The garments he was wearing covered Frankie’s body decently with no flesh showing—he didn’t see a problem. “You’re wearing the Sponge Bob Square Pants PJs I got her as a joke gift last Christmas and her Hobbit Feet slippers.” Lacy eyed him critically. “I know you were in a hurry to get here but don’t you think you could have changed into a tshirt and jeans at least?” “I am sorry you disapprove of my clothing choice for Frankie’s body,” Kerov said stiffly. “I will be certain to give her the case you packed so that she can change as soon as we have Switched back into our own bodies.”

“Fine.” Lacy threw up her hands. “Just be careful with my best friend’s body. And tell her to call me as soon as you can.” “You have said that already and I agreed. Can I go now?” Kerov asked flatly. As far as he was concerned, he couldn’t get away from Frankie’s best friend fast enough. “Go then.” Lacy pointed a finger at him. “You just better send Frankie back in one piece and in her right mind.” “Believe me, I would like nothing better.” Grabbing the case full of extraneous clothing Lacy had packed, (what made her think Frankie needed half her wardrobe for a simple overnight stay on the Mother Ship?) Kerov finally exited the vehicle. He breathed a sigh of relief as he saw Lacy drive away and turned to face the Human Kindred Relations building. Finally he was done with Frankie’s annoying best friend. He didn’t know why she would choose such a person to spend time with. Lacy was grating and abrasive—nothing like Jorn who was always positive and pleasant to be around. Then he ed Frankie’s assertion that his best friend was in love with him and felt a surge of discomfort. Could she be wrong? But if so, why had Jorn accepted a kiss from her while she was in his body? One thing was for certain, if he did get back to his own body permanently his next meeting with his best friend was going to be extremely awkward. Kerov sighed as he walked towards the tall silver building. There was a lobby type area in the front which he could see through the glass windows. Long gray couches lined the walls and there were desks staffed with humans as well as some Kindred guards on duty. Just as he was about to get the door, someone else grabbed the handle first. “Allow me lovely lady,” said a smooth, somehow familiar voice. Turning in surprise, Kerov saw that it was Commander Sylvan. His spiky blond hair and pale blue eyes seemed almost to glow in the artificial lighting. He was dressed just as he had been on the viewscreen—wearing tall black boots, black uniform tros, and a sapphire blue uniform shirt. Kerov frowned. Though the

Kindred Commander was easily recognizable, there was something different about him—something that didn’t quite jibe with how he’d looked during their viewscreen conversation. But try as he might, Kerov couldn’t quite put his finger on it. “Commander Sylvan?” he said, surprised as the Commander held open the door for him. “Yes, indeed, lovely female.” The Commander gave him a broad grin which showed his Blood Kindred fangs. “How do you do this fine night?” “It’s me—Kerov,” Kerov said, ing that the Commander couldn’t possibly recognize him in Frankie’s body. “Oh yes, of course. Nice to see you again.” Commander Sylvan nodded at him perfunctorily. “But…this is the first time you’ve seen me,” Kerov protested. “I spoke to you earlier this evening but I was in my own body.” “Is that right? Well, how absolutely lovely.” Commander Sylvan seemed distracted, barely paying any attention to what Kerov was saying. He was clutching a small black satchel to his broad chest and seemed more interested in keeping it safe than having a conversation. Kerov frowned. “Did you come down from the Mother Ship just to greet me? It was very kind of you, if so, but not necessary.” “Well we try to offer every service and courtesy aboard the Mother Ship.” Commander Sylvan waved the hand not holding the satchel vaguely. “All part of the service, don’t you know. Could you excuse me please, Perov? I have urgent business to attend to.” “It’s Kerov,” Kerov said but the Commander had already brushed past him and headed into the heart of the HKR building. Kerov could hear him ordering a shuttle to take him directly to the Mother Ship with no delay. “At once, I said!” he barked at one of the guards. “And no, I don’t have time to undergo the safety search procedure. You know who I am—don’t waste my time!”

Kerov frowned again. If Commander Sylvan had come to meet him, why would he be in such a hurry that he would leave without him? Was Kerov supposed to take another shuttle? Just then an Earth woman who looked to be in her late thirties came up to him. She had long brown hair pulled into a bun at the top of her head and kind brown eyes that reminded him a little of Frankie’s. “Hello, are you Kerov?” she asked, smiling. “I was told to be looking for you.” “Yes, thank you.” Kerov nodded at her gratefully and hefted his case. “I was told to report here to be put on a shuttle to go up to the Mother Ship at once.” “Well, we had one standing by but Commander Sylvan just commandeered it.” She frowned. “You know, I didn’t even see him come down but he certainly was in a hurry to get back up there again! Anyway, it’ll only be about fifteen minutes to call another one. Can I offer you a cup of coffee or tea while you wait?” Kerov searched Frankie’s memory and nodded. “Tea would be nice. I enjoy a soothing hot beverage from time to time.” The nice female gave him a slightly strange look but only nodded. “Of course, dear. Just have a seat on any of the couches and I’ll bring it to you.” Kerov did as she said, sinking down into one of the gray couches and breathing a sigh of relief. He put the small case Lacy had packed to one side and promptly forgot about it. His mind was on many other things. Finally, he was going to get this problem resolved. He would have his own life back again and be the only one inside his own body, just as Frankie would be the only one within hers. So why did the prospect of his impending freedom make him feel so sad and bereft?

“Here it comes—here it comes! I know it’s them this time!” Frankie did an impatient little dance causing Kate and Liv to move hastily out of the way of Kerov’s size fourteen boots. Sophie and Kat had stayed behind with their kids but Liv’s son was with his father at the moment. She and Kate and Commander Terex had met Frankie’s shuttle and then agreed to wait with her for Kerov’s as well. Frankie hadn’t been aboard the Mother Ship for long but already she liked it—at least, she liked the people who inhabited it. She and Lacy had often talked about how creepy it was—the fact that women who got called by Kindred warriors to do a trial period aboard the Mother Ship almost never came back. Frankie had expected to meet a bunch of brainwashed Stepford wives but her new friends were nothing like that. Happy to be wrong, Frankie had taken to them at once, especially Liv who seemed both friendly and practical. She was also a nurse who had gotten her degree at USF and it turned out that she and Frankie had taken classes from some of the same professors so they already had things to talk about. And of course, it was nice to be with someone who understood what she was going through. When Liv told the story of her own body switch with her huge Beast Kindred husband, Frankie had laughed until she cried. And hearing about someone who had been Switched and was able to Switch back successfully made her feel much more comfortable about her own odds of getting back to her own body. The girls were very nice but Commander Terex was a different story. He seemed quiet and withdrawn, a permanent scowl on his handsome features. Frankie thought he looked about the same age as Kerov’s parents—well, maybe a little younger—but she didn’t dare to ask him. He was too silent and austere for her to risk asking any questions. But since he was keeping himself aloof from the group of girls, it was easy enough to ignore him and just concentrate on Kate and Liv. “How do I look?” she asked Liv, turning to her new friend. “Be honest—I need to know.” “Well…” Liv smiled. “You look like a big, hunky Kindred warrior. Are you

nervous?” “Yes,” Frankie confessed. “I know it’s silly but I can’t help it. I mean, we’ve been living in each other’s bodies for days now but this is the first time I’m going to meet Kerov face to face. Only he’s going to be wearing my face. Dios…” she sighed. “It’s so weird.” “Nothing’s normal when it comes to the Kindred,” Liv said practically. “But why should you be nervous? I thought you told us you didn’t care for Kerov that way.” “Well, I mean I don’t…not exactly, anyway.” Frankie bit her lip. “Actually, it’s more that he doesn’t care for me. I’m not his type at all.” “Oh? And what is his type?” Kate asked. Frankie made a face. “Skinny, tall, blonde and with absolutely no hips or ass. Pretty much the exact opposite of me.” She sighed again. “When you see Kerov, you’ll understand. I mean, when you see him in my body.” “It looks like we’re going to see him soon. I think this one is definitely his shuttle,” Liv said. A previous shuttle from Earth had flown by but had landed in the private docking bay reserved for higher Kindred officials. Frankie had been disappointed but now she was excited all over again. What would she say to Kerov—and what would he say to her? They hadn’t exactly ended their last encounter very well. His parents had been nice though Frankie thought his mother was sad she and Kerov weren’t meant to be. But what could she expect when Frankie was the exact opposite of what her son liked? Even Kerov’s best friend had confirmed it. Besides, Frankie’s own family wouldn’t exactly be thrilled by a match with a Kindred warrior. No doubt her abuela would faint and her mother would scream…no, it wouldn’t be a good scene at all. Better for us to just get Switched back and go back to our own lives, Frankie thought practically. And then wondered why the thought made her sad. Just then the shuttle touched down only a few yards away from them, driving the morbid thoughts from her brain. The hatch popped open and a pretty woman in

her late thirties with long brown hair gathered into a slightly messy bun at the top of her head stepped out. Frankie’s heart started to sink in disappointment but after the lady stepped out, a familiar figure followed it. “There I am,” she whispered, grasping Liv’s arm. “I mean there he is. But Dios, why did he dress me in my Sponge Bob PJs and my Hobbit feet slippers? Is he trying to make me look crazy?” “He probably doesn’t have any idea what’s the right thing to wear for your body and culture,” Liv whispered back. “You know how clueless even guys from our own world can be. And when they come from a whole other species, you can triple that.” She cocked her head to one side, examining Kerov in Frankie’s body as he stepped down from the shuttle. “You’re really pretty.” “Thank you. Except for my ass.” Frankie sighed. “You know, it looks even bigger than I thought. It’s like seeing a picture of yourself and realizing that you put on a few pounds or something like that.” “I think you have a beautiful shape,” Kate said, smiling at her. “And Kerov’s a fool if he doesn’t think so too.” “Oh, well…” Frankie blushed, uncertain what to say. She knew she ought to go up and greet Kerov but she found herself hanging back, unsure of her reception. It was Commander Terex who came forward first, one hand outstretched for a warrior’s clasp. He was headed for Kerov but the human woman who had come up from Earth in the shuttle spoke up first. “Hello,” she said, smiling pleasantly. “I’m Elaina from the Tampa HKR building escorting Kerov here to the Mother Ship.” “Hello.” Commander Terex nodded at her perfunctorily but then something about her seemed to catch his eye. “Excuse me,” he said, turning more fully towards her. “But your eyes…” “Yes?” She looked up at him uncertainly. “They’re very…well, very unusual.” Terex looked at her more closely. “May I?” “Um…of course, I guess.” Clearly the woman, Elaina, had no idea what he was

asking but she seemed willing enough to go along with it. Terex cupped her cheek carefully in one large hand and tilted her chin up so that he could study her eyes more closely. To Frankie, it looked like Elaina was having difficulty meeting his searching gaze but she looked at him unflinchingly and only the way she twisted her fingers together in her sensible gray skirt gave away her nervousness. “Brown with green and gold flecks,” Terex murmured after studying her eyes for almost a full minute. “So rare…truly exquisite.” “Um, most people don’t notice anything but the brown.” Elaina’s voice sounded slightly breathless. “And I don’t think they’re nearly as unusual as your eyes— I’ve never seen a blue so dark it’s almost purple.” “Blue eyes are common enough among my people.” He stepped back abruptly, dropping her chin. “Forgive me for getting sidetracked. Your eyes…they reminded me of someone…someone else. But of course we are not here to speak of the past.” At last he turned to Kerov, who had been watching the scene in silence. “Hello, I’m your father’s friend, Commander Terex.” “He has told me of you often.” Kerov—in Frankie’s body—held out his arm. Terex took it in a warrior’s clasp and Frankie thought how strange it looked to see her own body acting in such a masculine way. Kerov kept his head high and met the other male’s eyes with a direct stare despite their extreme height difference. The look on his face was serious and he kept his shoulders squared and used brisk, efficient movements. In short, he was extremely masculine, even though he was confined to her small, rounded, feminine body. It made her wonder how he would look in his own body. Probably damn fine, she thought. Madre de Dios, here he comes. What am I going to say? Kerov had finished shaking hands or arms or whatever with Commander Terex and was now approaching them. Without thinking about it, Frankie reached for Liv again. She felt better when the other girl squeezed her hand. “Take it easy,” Liv whispered. “Everything is going to be fine.”

“Frankie,” Kerov said, looking up at her. For Frankie it was like looking in the mirror at a stranger. It was beyond bizarre to see her own face and hear words she hadn’t thought up coming out of her mouth in a tone which wasn’t hers. She wondered if this was how identical twins felt. “Um…hi,” she said a bit breathlessly. “It’s nice to finally meet you face-to-face. Even if it’s my face you’re using.” “You are using my face as well,” Kerov pointed out. “As well as other parts of my body.” He looked pointedly down at her hand which was still clasped in Liv’s. “What? Liv is a friend,” Frankie emphasized, frowning. “So was Jorn before you kissed him.” He glared at her with her own face. “Have you been kissing this new friend of yours as well?” “Why…you…” Frankie glared at him, hardly knowing what to say. “I’m happily ed to Baird, a Beast Kindred aboard the Mother Ship,” Liv said mildly. “I was just offering Frankie some moral . No kissing involved, I promise.” “Moral ?” Kerov raised an eyebrow skeptically. “I—” Frankie began but Kate interrupted her. “Hi, I’m Kate,” she said, stepping forward and holding out a hand to Kerov. “Welcome to the Mother Ship.” “Oh—hello.” He took her hand uncertainly. To Frankie’s surprise, the petite redhead gripped his hand tightly and closed her eyes. She held his hand for so long that Frankie began to wonder if there was a problem. Kerov shifted from foot to foot, clearly wondering the same thing but unwilling to give offense by breaking the handshake first. At last Kate opened her eyes and smiled.

“I see the problem,” she said, releasing Kerov’s hand. “You think Frankie is into Liv when actually she’s just showing a gesture of friendship.” “We do not have such gestures where I come from,” Kerov said stiffly. “I know—I saw,” Kate said quietly. “They don’t do casual touching on your planet, do they? Or any touching at all, really.” Kerov cleared his throat. “On Tarsia physical is regulated by The State.” “It is?” Liv’s eyes widened. “Do you live on some kind of communist or fascist world or something?” Kerov shrugged. “I do not know the meaning of those words. I only know that on my world, the State regulates everything, including physical . Even mated people rarely touch each other. Well—they’re not supposed to anyway,” he corrected himself and Frankie thought he was probably thinking of his parents which seemed like a loving couple. “There are some exceptions but no one would display their physical affection for another in public. It would earn them a censure or possibly even a punishment.” “How awful!” Liv exclaimed at the same time Kate said, “How sad.” Kerov shrugged again. “I am sorry you think so but it was the way I was raised.” He frowned at Kate. “But how did you ‘see’ that about my world. Were you reading me somehow when you took my hand?” “As a matter of fact, that’s exactly what I was doing.” She raised her chin. “I have a gift ed down through the women in my family. We call it the Knowing. It helps me see into the future and the past and sometimes it sends me messages about people.” She took a deep breath. “It sent me a message about you, Kerov.” He frowned again. “Is this the prophesy Commander Sylvan spoke of on the viewscreen?” “It is.” Kate’s voice suddenly grew softer and yet every word she spoke seemed to echo in the vast docking bay.

“An old threat made new Within silence grew Can only be solved By one who jumps True She into he and he into she Unless they are one Apart they’ll not be Exchange of the souls A switch of the roles But jumping between Will take a harsh toll.” “What…what does that mean?” Frankie asked, her voice shaking a little. For the first time she found herself a little bit afraid of her new friends—well, of Kate anyway. “We don’t know,” a new voice said and Commander Sylvan came striding up. “But we think it might have something to do with Two, the Dark Kindred who is the mortal enemy of all aboard the Mother Ship. He has sworn vengeance against us and we think he will go to any lengths to get it.” “Hello again, Commander Sylvan,” Kerov said, inclining his head. “I trust you got your urgent business taken care of?” “Urgent business?” Commander Sylvan frowned uncertainly and picked absently at the white bandage on his thumb. “Well, I suppose so. Running the Mother Ship, there is always some urgent matter or other.” “True,” Commander Terex said, coming to stand beside them. “Which is why I will be happy to escort Commander Kerov and Frankie to the Sacred Grove for you.”

“Well, thank you, Commander Terex.” Sylvan nodded at the other male. “It’s very kind of you to help me out.” “I do not mind.” Terex’s handsome features darkened. “I know the pain of being invaded by another and having your body taken over by an alien host. I imagine these two are extremely ready to be separated and put back into their own skins.” Frankie wasn’t sure what he was talking about but it sounded like he also had experience with some kind of body switching. “Of course,” she said, nodding. “Thank you for volunteering to take us. We’re more than ready to Switch back.” Kerov gave her a look. “The sooner the better,” he growled. Mentally, Frankie sighed. Clearly he was still pissed at her—was it just because she had kissed his best friend or was there something more? Was he still mad that she’d told his parents they weren’t together? What did the big stupid Kindred want from her? “We’ll go too,” Liv said, nodding at Kate who nodded back. “Kate should come because she heard the prophesy in a dream in the first place and she needs to tell whatever priestess you get to try and separate the two of you. And I’ll come for moral .” She squeezed Frankie’s hand again and Frankie squeezed back gratefully. Elaina, the lady from the HKR building cleared her throat hesitantly. “Do you mind if I come too? Not to butt into your business—there’s just something…rather important I’d like to talk to a priestess about if I may.” “I don’t mind,” Frankie said, looking at Kerov. “Do you?” He sighed. “I suppose not. Everyone here apparently knows our private business already anyway.” “Well don’t worry—we won’t tell,” Liv promised him. “We’ll keep it under our hats.” “What?” Kerov frowned at her uncertainly. “Why would you put information

about me under your head covering? Is that some kind of an Earth custom?” Liv laughed and Frankie couldn’t help smiling. “No, it’s just an Earth saying—it means we’ll keep your private information private. We won’t tell anyone.” “All right.” Kerov seemed slightly mollified. “Well then, lead us to the Sacred Grove, if you would please Commander Terex.” “I would be pleased to.” Terex nodded at them. “Come this way. And Elaina…” He cleared his throat. “If you would like to walk with me, I can point out some features of the Mother Ship. Have you been aboard before?” “Oh, no—no, actually I haven’t.” She blushed and Frankie thought the rosy glow in her cheeks made her look extremely pretty. “Well, then…” Terex held out an arm to her in an old-fashioned, courtly gesture that made Elaina blush even harder. But she lifted her chin and took her place at his side, holding his arm lightly as though it was hot to the touch. “Let us go,” Terex said. Giving Elaina the first smile Frankie had seen on his handsome but dour face, he turned and led them towards the exit. Liv and Kate exchanged a glance and then Liv winked at Frankie. Frankie winked back and then looked at Kerov, wondering if he had noticed the little display going on between Commander Terex and the HKR employee. But to her discomposure, Kerov wasn’t looking at them—he was staring directly at her and he didn’t look happy. Not happy at all.

Sylvan sighed distractedly as he threaded his way through the maze of parked ships in the docking bay. There was so much to do—so many responsibilities weighing him down lately. He was thankful that Terex was willing to pick up the slack on this particular item but he wished he could delegate more. He missed the days when he had more time to spend with Sophie and their twins. The two of them were growing up so fast and he didn’t want to miss their childhood because of his duties. Still, the Goddess herself had charged him with leading the Kindred of the Mother Ship and he didn’t see how he could relinquish his position to another without her blessing. Maybe if he went to the Sacred Grove and prayed about it… Sylvan was so lost in thought that he barely noticed when he ed out of the docking bay and into a narrow service corridor that connected to the transport lifts which led to the Command Sector. He didn’t see the large hand—exactly like his own except that it lacked a bandage on the thumb—which shot out from a storage closet and grabbed him. And he didn’t hear the laughter until it was too late. “What—?” Sylvan began but then he was yanked off his feet. A sharp, piercing pain stabbed into his neck and the world began to swim in front of him. The last thing he saw was a strangely familiar face laughing into his own. Then…blackness.

Twenty

“And here is the Sacred Grove,” Terex said after what seemed to Frankie an interminably long cross-ship journey. They had taken several modes of Kindred public transport to get here including a moving walkway and a floating bus. Liv had regaled her of stories about another type of Kindred transport—the Take-me —which according to her looked like a push-me-pull-you out of the Dr. Doolittle books. Frankie was at least glad she hadn’t had to ride on one of those—they sounded hard to control. Her new friend’s stories were wonderful and entertaining but Frankie couldn’t help noticing that every time she happened to glance at Kerov he was staring straight at her with that same, angry scowl on his face. Or rather, on her face. Frankie reminded herself never to make that look—it was really unattractive on her. Also, it would probably cause horrible wrinkles. “Hey,” she said as they came to the edge of a grove of purple and green trees. “Do you mind not glaring at me like that all the time? I’m sorry if you’re pissed off at me but it’s really hard to see my own face giving me the stink-eye.” “The what?” He frowned. “But neither of your eyes exude any kind of odor as far as I can tell. I don’t—” “Dios de Madre! It’s an expression,” Frankie interrupted impatiently. “It means stop making such a mean face at me. Especially since you’re using my face to do it.” “Forgive me,” Kerov said stiffly. “I didn’t realize I was giving you an odiferous ocular. I will try to control my expressions more carefully. But I’m sure you don’t have to worry—doubtless you’ll have your own body back soon and then you can make whatever faces you like without me to interfere.” “Which is a good thing, right?” Frankie asked, feeling exasperated. “I mean, you can’t tell me you don’t want your own body back too.” “Of course I want it back,” Kerov burst out. “I just—” “Just what?” Frankie prodded when he stopped abruptly. “Never mind.” Kerov shook his head. “Let’s just get this over with.”

“Before we can go further into the Sacred Grove, we must remove our footwear,” Terex said. “It shows proper respect to the Goddess to go barefooted in her presence.” He frowned at the Hobbit feet slippers Kerov was wearing. “But in the case of your footwear, I’m not sure. It appears you have bare feet already—albeit extremely hairy ones.” Frankie felt herself blushing. “Oh, those slippers are a joke—they’re from a movie back on Earth,” she explained quickly. “I don’t think it would be, uh, reverent to wear them into the Sacred Grove.” “I will, of course, remove them,” Kerov said in a stiff voice. “I only wore them because they are the only kind of footwear I was able to find to keep Frankie’s feet warm. For some reason no matter how hot it gets outside—and it gets very hot where she lives—her feet are always cold.” “Well your feet are huge,” Frankie said, frowning as she pulled off his tall black boots. “I’m really looking forward to not wearing a size fourteen anymore.” “My feet are the correct size for my body,” Kerov shot back. “And at least I do not strap them into ridiculously high-heeled contraptions and go tottering about like a fool.” Frankie was beginning to be really pissed off now. “Listen, the only reason you ended up wearing those really high heels was because you also put on the ugly dress that went with them. How come you always pick the worst thing to dress me in?” “I am not the only one who dressed their host body inappropriately. Why did you neglect to bring my chunnel so that I was forced to wear another’s at the banquet?” Kerov shot back. “I will never live down the shame of that!” “Well, you—” “Children…children. The Goddess does not allow discord in her Sacred Grove,” a soft but powerful voice interrupted their argument. Frankie looked up and saw a young priestess with long blonde hair streaked with green speaking to them from the edge of the trees. A flowing white robe was draped around her slender frame and Frankie thought she would have looked like an angel if not for her strange eyes—both the irises and the whites of them were green.

“Hello, Priestess.” Commander Terex bowed low, respect clear in his deep voice. “We seek your guidance and the wisdom of the Goddess.” “Of course—we have been expecting you.” The priestess smiled at him and then looked at Elaina. “But there is one among your number who is here for a different reason—is there not?” Blushing and trembling, Elaina stepped forward. “Yes—that’s me,” she said, keeping her chin high. “But I don’t want to interrupt you—I can wait.” “I am not the only attendant in the Sacred Grove this day,” the priestess said, smiling gently. “Nirobe,” she called. “Would you kindly come here?” At once an older priestess appeared, smiling. She held out a hand to Elaina. “Come, daughter—the Goddess is willing to hear any supplicant.” “Well…thank you.” Elaina smiled back and the priestess led her away, into the depths of the rustling purple and green leaves. “Now, then.” The first priestess clasped her hands together and looked at Frankie and Kerov. “The two of you may come with me. The rest should wait here.” “But, priestess—Kate here had a prophesy about these two she needs to tell you,” Liv protested. “I know of what you speak… An old threat made new Within silence grew Can only be solved By one who jumps True She into he and he into she Unless they are one

Apart they’ll not be Exchange of the souls A switch of the roles But jumping between Will take a harsh toll.” The priestess recited the words easily, as though she had known them all her life. “How…” Kate cleared her throat and shook her head. “But how could you…?” “You are not the only one the Goddess speaks to, daughter.” The priestess smiled at Kate gently. “Though I can tell you are favored by her. But come—time is wasting and the matter at hand is urgent and pressing.” She held out a hand to both Frankie and Kerov. “Come, my children—into the Sacred Grove. Let us seek the wisdom of the Goddess together.” Frankie followed her, and Kerov did the same. As they ed into the silent grove of green and purple trees, Frankie felt as though a soothing hand had touched her soul. The lush grass tickled her bare feet and the sunlight from the green Kindred sun above made dappled patterns as it shone through the canopy of leaves. There was a warm, fresh, growing scent that made Frankie feel lighter and more clearheaded than she had been in days as she breathed it in. Slowly she felt her anger and frustration slipping away until, by the time they came to a stop in front of a statue of the Kindred Goddess, she felt almost calm. “Now then, my children.” The priestess turned to look at them, a slight smile gracing her lovely face. “Tell me how I may help you.” “You can put us back into our own bodies,” Kerov said quickly. “And keep us there—permanently,” Frankie added. The priestess frowned. “Ah…as to that I am not certain it is possible.” “What?” Kerov exploded. “But we were told you could help us!”

“It’s the whole reason we came up here!” Frankie put in. She leaned forward and put a hand on the priestess’s arm. “Please, you have to help us. I can’t be trapped in the wrong body forever—I can’t. I’m so tired of being a guy!” “And I am sick and tired of being trapped in a weak female body without the strength to defend myself,” Kerov growled. “I cannot accept that there is no way to Switch us back.” “Well, there is one possible way,” the priestess said hesitantly. “But given the animosity the two of you seem to feel for each other, I am not certain you will want to try it.” “Anything—we’ll try anything,” Frankie said. “Just tell us what it is,” Kerov demanded. “Anything is preferable to being trapped in each other’s bodies indefinitely.” “Really?” The priestess raised an eyebrow at him. “Even giving each other the Kiss of Intimacy?” “The what now?” Frankie asked uncertainly. “What—is that like a French kiss or something?” The idea of tongue kissing Kerov while she was in his body and he was in hers was a little disturbing to say the least. How would it be to kiss herself that way? What if she found out her body was a terrible kisser? But no, since Kerov was in her body, wouldn’t it be his fault if she was a bad kisser? It was all so strange it was hard to imagine, let alone contemplate actually doing. Then she caught sight of Kerov’s face and realized that something was wrong— really wrong. “What? What is it?” she asked anxiously, looking at him. “What do you know that I don’t? What is this ‘Kiss of Intimacy’ anyway?” “It is a form of what you call ‘French kissing,’” he said reluctantly. “But…we would not be kissing each other’s mouths.” “What? Then where would we…” Frankie trailed off, looking uncertainly at the priestess. “Oh no…no, tell me he’s not saying what I think he’s saying.” “Think of the prophesy, my daughter,” the priestess said mildly. “‘Unless they

are one, apart they’ll not be.’ That makes it very clear that you must share deep intimacy in order to be separated.” “But I…but we…” Frankie was at a loss for words. “My Mother and Sire, who are Switch Kindred, warned that the only way to separate ourselves and get back to our own bodies was to bond,” Kerov said flatly. “But we cannot do that as Frankie has no wish to be bonded to one of my kind.” “Stop talking like that,” Frankie snapped. “You don’t want to be permanently ‘bonded’ to one of ‘my kind’ either. So don’t put it all on me.” The priestess frowned again and hushed them both with a gesture. “Very well, warrior,” she said to Kerov. “I agree with your Mother and Sire that such a bonding would indeed separate you—it would also allow you to Switch bodies with each other at will as often as you wished. But clearly you do not wish this.” Frankie shook her head firmly and Kerov said, “No.” “Very well, then. I believe that giving each other the Kiss of Intimacy and bringing each other to the pinnacle of pleasure will be enough to facilitate your separation without bonding you together permanently.” She spread her hands. “And the prophesy s my statements.” “So let me get this straight,” Frankie said, frowning. “You want me to, uh, go down on myself and Kerov to do the same. I mean, at the same time or what?” “I do not think it matters whether you take turns or bring each other pleasure together,” the priestess said gently. “Only that you must help each other reach the pinnacle.” “So…we have to make each other come.” Frankie’s cheeks were flaming and she couldn’t when she’d been more embarrassed. But embarrassing as it was, it was important to get this exactly right and be sure she understood the priestess completely. She didn’t want to do this wrong and pay for her ignorance by never getting back to her own body again.

“Correct,” the priestess said mildly. “By worshiping your partner with lips and tongue, you will give honor to the Goddess. Not only that, the pleasure in your body calls your spirit home.” “We can do it, I suppose,” Kerov said grimly. “But it’s going to be Goddessdamned awkward to say the least.” “As to that, do not fear, warrior,” the priestess said. “As soon as the pleasurable connection between the two of you begins, you will in all likelihood Switch back into your own bodies. But…” She raised a finger warningly. “That does not mean you can stop. Both of you must reach the pinnacle of pleasure in order to be anchored to your true forms.” “And…you really think this will work?” Frankie asked, biting her lip. The priestess made a graceful shrug. “As to that, I cannot say. I hope that it will for your sake, my children. I have no other advice to give at this time.” “Okay. Well…thank you, I guess,” Frankie said doubtfully. “I, uh, guess we’d better go then.” “I suppose we should.” Kerov gave her an unfriendly look and Frankie wondered how in the world they were going to manage this—especially when he was clearly so angry with her.

“So? What did the priestess say?” Olivia, one of Frankie’s new friends, asked as soon as they emerged from the Sacred Grove. “She, uh…” Frankie faltered, clearly not sure how to answer. “She gave us a possible solution but we will need privacy to try it,” Kerov said firmly, determined not to give away any more than he had to. “Can you procure us a room?” “I’m sure we can get the two of you into a guest suite,” Liv said. “Let me call Sophie and ask her to bespeak Sylvan and—” “No need for that,” Terex said, stepping forward. “I can install them in a suite without bothering Commander Sylvan. If you will just wait a moment for Elaina —she does not know the Mother Ship and I wouldn’t like her to get lost.” “Of course,” Kerov growled, shifting impatiently from foot to foot. He couldn’t help wondering how the priestess’ orders were to be accomplished. Would he have to kiss his own body? He hadn’t liked it at all when he came back into his own body and found himself kissing Jorn. He just wasn’t wired to want another male sexually. Of course, the male body he would be caressing and kissing would be his own…but that just made things stranger. He fervently hoped the priestess was right and that he and Frankie would Switch back into their own bodies the moment they started pleasuring each other but what if she wasn’t? What if he was forced to suck his own shaft? What if—? A rustling of the green and purple leaves of the Sacred Grove diverted his attention. He looked up to see the human woman who had escorted him up from the HKR building on Earth emerging from the trees. Her eyes looked red and there were tear streaks down her cheeks but it was clear she was trying to appear calm. “Hi there.” She gave a forced smile to the assembled party. “I, uh, hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long.” “Of course not.” Terex strode forward to take her arm but Elaina drew back a little.

“I’m sorry,” she said in a low voice. “I just…need a little space right now. After talking to the priestess…” Commander Terex didn’t seem offended. “Of course. I understand. Such encounters can be…difficult.” He looked back at Kerov and Frankie who looked nearly as jittery as Kerov felt. “Well, now that our party is all together again, let’s get the two of you installed in a guest suite so you can follow the priestess’ orders…whatever they might be.” Kerov took a deep breath as Commander Terex led them away from the Sacred Grove. Whatever happened and no matter how awkward it was, they had to do as the priestess had ordered. Otherwise, they would never get back to their own bodies. But Goddess, he wished there was another way. This was just so damn strange.

Twenty-One

“Well…here we are,” Kerov muttered the moment the door to their new guest suite slid shut behind them. Commander Terex had stayed only long enough to show them the amenities and then he and Liv and Kate and Elaina, the woman from the HKR building, had left them alone. “Yeah, here we are…” Frankie echoed, but she made no move to do anything. It just seemed too strange and awkward. Dios, how in the world were they supposed to manage this? “I have no idea how to do this,” Kerov said flatly. “Neither do I,” Frankie itted. “Um, it’s really awkward. Like, beyond awkward.” He sighed. “We must make an attempt, however. As I know neither of us wishes to be stuck permanently as we are now.” “True…” Frankie bit her lip. “Maybe…maybe we should move to the bedroom?” He nodded, his forehead furrowing. “The sleeping chamber would seem to be the optimal place.” “And…maybe if we turned the lights down?” Frankie asked, inspiration striking her. “I mean, I think it would be easier to do this if we uh, couldn’t see each other quite so clearly.” “A good point—I really have no wish to give the Kiss of Intimacy to another male, even if that male is me,” Kerov growled. “Maybe we won’t have to,” Frankie said hopefully. “How do you mean?” he asked as they entered the bedroom, which held a perfectly enormous bed, and called for lower lights. “You heard the priestess— this is our only hope.” “I know, but she also said that once we started giving each other pleasure we might Switch back into our own bodies,” Frankie pointed out. “So maybe we

won’t have to, uh, go that far before we get back in our own bodies.” “We still have to bring each other to the brink, no matter what body we are occupying,” he pointed out. “True…” Frankie bit her lip. “Look, let’s just take it one step at a time, okay? Let’s start by just…just hugging. Is that all right with you?” “I suppose so,” he grumbled, but made no move to come near her. Frankie sighed. Was he really going to make her take the lead? Apparently so. Stepping forward, she reached for him and pulled him into a stiff embrace. It felt really strange to be the larger one in the hug—to put her arms around him and hold the much smaller body to her own. For a minute Frankie almost felt like she was hugging one of her nieces or nephews. That was how big the size difference was between their bodies. But of course, she and Kerov were going to have to get over their awkwardness and do much more than hug—she just wished he would loosen up some. “Hey, take it easy,” she murmured, holding him close. “Try to get into it, all right?” She felt him making an almost visible effort to relax and then he sighed and put his arms around her waist. “All right,” he muttered. “I’m trying.” “I am too,” Frankie assured him. “Come on—just close your eyes and relax.” Then she took her own advice and let her eyelids drift shut, concentrating on the feeling of holding him and being held. The first thing she noticed was that it wasn’t so bad. Her body was warm and small and soft against Kerov’s broad chest. It felt…nice even if it was weird. She felt a surge of protectiveness go through her and then a warm feeling of pleasure. Their bodies felt good together—they fit perfectly—even if they were currently occupying the wrong ones. Without thinking about it, she let her mouth drift down to his and captured his

lips in a kiss. Kerov flinched at first but then, after a moment, he began to kiss her back. Earlier Frankie had been afraid that she would find out she was a bad kisser. But strangely enough, she had completely forgotten what body she was in. The pleasure of the kiss—of finally being face to face with the man she’d been sharing lives with for so days—made everything else drift away. A warm, delicious feeling began to grow in the pit of her stomach—an almost electrical hum of power that built and built as the kiss went on until suddenly… Frankie realized she was no longer bending down to kiss Kerov. Instead, she was looking up—reaching almost on her tiptoes to put her arms around his neck as their mouths pressed together. “Oh!” she exclaimed breaking the kiss. “Look—we Switched! We Switched back to our own bodies!” “So we did,” Kerov rumbled. His deep voice sounded right, coming from his broad chest and Frankie could feel the immense power in his arms as he held her to him. Frankie ran her hands over his chest and shoulders in wonder. She’d been in this body but she found herself much more able to appreciate it from her current vantage point. Dios, he was huge and so muscular! He smelled good too— something she hadn’t noticed earlier. He had a warm, spicy scent that made her senses tingle and seemed to urge her to get closer to him. Kerov seemed to be taking her in too, his pale gray eyes roving over her body. Frankie hoped he liked what he saw, although she knew she looked nothing like his ideal woman. His big hand stroked over her hair lightly and then caressed her shoulder, making her shiver. “Gods, you’re lovely,” he muttered hoarsely. “I’ve wanted to touch you with my own hands for so long now…” “You…you have?” Frankie asked, a bit breathlessly. Tarsian ideal woman or not, she was definitely feeling the heat between them. Then, alarmingly, her vision started to waver. For a moment she was looking out of Kerov’s eyes again, down at her own face.

“Oh, no!” she gasped, pulling him (herself?) closer. “Quick—we’re losing it! Kiss me again!” She didn’t have to ask twice. Kerov pulled her close and, as their lips met, she found herself being held in his big, muscular arms once more. Mmm…nice. She snuggled against his broad chest and really let herself sink into the kiss. His mouth seemed as though it was made to fit against hers. Kerov seemed to feel the same way because she felt the tip of his tongue brush lightly against the seam of her lips. Moaning softly, Frankie parted for him, welcoming him in. The same way I’ll be welcoming him down below in a minute or two, she thought. Guilt tried to creep in but she pushed it resolutely aside. After all, she wasn’t doing this because she and Kerov wanted to—they had to—it was the only way to fix the weird situation they found themselves in. Frankie was determined not to let herself feel bad for something she couldn’t help. “Gods, you feel good in my arms,” he murmured, breaking the kiss for a moment. “I want to feel more of you.” “Me too—I want more of you against me,” Frankie whispered. “I mean, I want to feel more of your body against mine—not mine against yours. Oh…you know what I mean.” “I do,” he breathed and pulled the loose pajama top over her head, baring her breasts. For a moment Frankie felt shy but then his big, warm hands covered her, kneading her sensitive mounds and making her moan. “Your breasts are so beautiful,” he murmured, looking into her eyes. “May I taste them—your nipples, I mean?” “Sure…um, I guess so.” Frankie still felt a little embarrassed but she was hot too —a lot hotter than she’d thought she would be just from some kissing and touching. It seemed like she and Kerov were made to fit together—the electric spark of power between them grew with every touch, every caress. Leaning down, he sucked one of her sensitive peaks into his hot, wet mouth,

laving the nipple with his tongue until Frankie gasped and tugged at his hair. Madre de Dios, that felt good! Better than good—with each deep pull of his mouth on her nipple, she swore she could feel an answering tug between her thighs. A mounting pleasure that was making her pussy feel wet and swollen and hot. And then he switched to the other breast and repeated the process, making her moan all over again. “Kerov!” she gasped breathlessly as he continued to suck and lick her nipples hungrily. “Dios, you’re making me crazy.” “Sorry…” He pulled back, panting, his pupils dilated with lust. “Forgive me, I just…I have never been allowed to taste a female’s breasts before. It is forbidden on Tarsia, as is all sexual aside from State-mandated intercourse.” That’s right, Frankie ed. He’s never done this before—no wonder he’s eager! She found herself eager too. Reaching up, she started pulling at his shirt, wanting to rub her hands over the broad planes of his bare chest. Kerov obliged, pulling off his shirt and standing bare-chested in front of her. “Mmm…” Frankie stroked his skin appreciatively. God, he felt good under her hands. So big and warm and hard… She liked his big, chiseled body—the way it felt, the way it fit against hers. She just wanted more of his skin against hers… more …more everything. Playfully, she nipped one of his nipples, tonguing the small, flat copper disk until he gave a low, rough groan. “Gods, Frankie, your mouth…” “Get used to it,” she murmured. “Because I’m going to be licking a lot more than this…” she nipped him again. “Before we’re through.” She didn’t know where she got the courage to talk so brazenly but somehow being back in her own body with free access to Kerov’s big, masculine form seemed to bring it out in her. I bet he’s never gotten a blow job before, she thought. There’s no way the awful people who run things on his home planet would allow it. I’m going to blow his mind!

Sinking to her knees, she began unfastening the tight black uniform tros he was wearing. Thanks to having been in his body and putting them on herself, she had absolutely no problem getting them open. Before Kerov could utter a word of protest, she had them peeled back and his massive shaft was free. “Frankie—” he protested in a strained voice as she took the long, hot, hard length in her hand. “You shouldn’t…you don’t have to…” “Yes I do,” she reminded him. “And besides, I want to.” To her surprise, she found it was true. This act had never been her favorite with Carlos—mainly because he expected it and considered it her wifely duty. But now Frankie did it of her own free will and found the act not only sexy but actually empowering. She pushed Kerov to the side of the bed until he sprawled back onto it, his thighs spread as he leaned back on his elbows. Before he could protest again, Frankie insinuated herself between his long legs and grasped his throbbing shaft in her hands. His skin was hot and soft as flower petals and his warm, spicy scent was stronger here, making her feel dizzy with lust. Dios, this was really turning her on! Leaning forward, Frankie rubbed her cheek against his shaft, like a cat marking its territory. She heard his sharp intake of breath and looked up to see that his eyes were wide with shock and uncertainty. Yup, this was definitely his first blow job. Feeling naughty and sexy at the same time, Frankie stopped rubbing her cheek against him and used her lips instead. Laying gentle, slow, deliberate kisses up and down the long, hard length of his shaft and keeping her eyes on his face the whole time, she was thoroughly enjoying herself. Kerov looked as though he could hardly believe what was happening—as though he thought it might be a dream that would end at any time. Frankie, however, was determined to keep it going. Locking her eyes with his, she planted a hot, wet kiss right on the flaring crown of his cock. Then she put out her tongue and swirled around it, lapping away the salty bead of precum that had formed at the slit, putting on a show to really make

him crazy. “Frankie…Gods!” he groaned. His eyes were fixed on her face and the way she was kissing and licking his shaft. There was a look of disbelief mingled with pleasure on his strong features and his hand came up tentatively to caress her cheek. “You like it, baby?” she murmured, wondering how she had the nerve to act so naughty. Maybe it was because she was already intimately familiar with his body from actually having lived in it? Or maybe it was just because she held the power now and she found that she liked it. For whatever reason, Frankie found herself acting like she never had before. “You like when I kiss you there?” she purred, kissing the head of his cock again. “When I taste you?” “You know I do,” Kerov muttered hoarsely as she swirled her tongue around his broad head again. His thick shaft throbbed in her hands and Frankie had the idea that it wouldn’t take that much more effort to send him over the edge. But apparently, Kerov wasn’t ready to come yet. He took Frankie by the arms and raised her until she was standing between his thighs. Even then, with him still sitting on the side of the bed and her standing, they were almost eye to eye because he was so tall. “What?” Frankie pouted. “Why did you stop me?” “Because I want more…I want to taste you, too.” His pale gray eyes blazed at her and suddenly his big hands found their way down to cup her ass. “I want to touch you as well. Here,” he rumbled, looking into her eyes. “What?” For the first time, Frankie felt suddenly nonplussed. “Why would you want that? None of the girls on your home planet is anything like me—your ex, Xirnah, didn’t even have an ass.” “Why do you think I want so badly to touch it? To touch you?” he demanded hoarsely. Before she could reply, his big hands had found their way inside her loose pajama bottoms. Frankie bit her lip and tried not to jump as she felt his large, warm palms making with her bare ass. “Kerov,” she protested uneasily but she didn’t try to get away.

“Mmmm…” his voice was a low, hungry growl as he rubbed and kneaded her full globes. “Gods, so full, so luscious and ripe…” He cupped her, filling his hands and spread her wide, making Frankie give a surprised squeak. When he parted her like that, she could feel her pussy lips parting as well, opening to expose her inner folds, now wet with desire. “Kerov…” she whispered, uncertain if she wanted him to stop or to go on. “I…I don’t understand.” “I don’t either,” he itted hoarsely. “All I know is that I want you…want to taste you the way you tasted me.” “But you didn’t let me finish,” Frankie protested breathlessly. “You didn’t, uh, come.” “I’d rather make you come first,” he growled softly. Looking into her face, his eyes silver with lust, his voice dropped. “Frankie, please, you don’t know how long I’ve dreamed of this. I know it’s forbidden on my home world but I can’t help myself—I want to taste you so badly.” That’s right, Frankie ed. Not only has he never had a blowjob, he’s never gone down on a girl before either. This is a first for him. For that matter, it was a first for her, too. Carlos had never consented to try it— not even once. And since her ex, Frankie hadn’t had any serious relationships or indeed, any sexual relationships at all. But if Kerov could be brave, then she could too, she told herself. “All right,” she whispered, trying not to feel self-conscious. “You…you can taste me if you really want to.” “Gods, you have no idea how badly I want to,” he swore softly. Stripping away her pajama bottoms and panties, he switched their positions smoothly. Before she knew it, Frankie found herself on the side of the bed on her hands and knees with her ass high in the air. “Hey,” she gasped, looking over her shoulder. “I thought you wanted to, you know, taste my uh…taste me.”

“I do…I want to lick your sweet pussy until you come all over my face,” he growled. “But I want to taste you from behind so that I can touch you.” As if to illustrate his point, he filled his hands with her ass once more, kneading restlessly, spreading her wide to show both her rosebud and her pussy. Frankie bit her lip, her heart thumping. Never had she felt so exposed—so opened. Yet there was something hot about letting Kerov touch her this way— about letting him taste her this way. “All right,” she whispered, spreading her legs a little wider for him. “If…if that’s the way you want it.” “Gods, yes,” he growled harshly. Kneeling behind her, he pressed close and Frankie gasped to feel his hot breath on her open pussy and ass. Dios, was she really doing this? Was she really going to let him taste her this way? Apparently so. Before she could change her mind, she felt Kerov’s warm, wet tongue tracing over the right globe of her ass. “Hey!” she gasped, looking around again. “What are you doing?” “Tasting you,” he growled. “My way.” He licked her other cheek and then nipped her sharply, making Frankie moan. Well, so much for having the sexual upper hand—Kerov was definitely in charge now. Being completely naked on her hands and knees and feeling his big, hard body covering her, she thought she had never felt so dominated…or so hot. “Gods, you’re so fucking juicy and ripe,” he rumbled. “Need to split you wide to lick every inch of your sweet pussy and ass.” Without warning, he suddenly pressed Frankie down onto her stomach and then pushed her left knee almost up to her left elbow. The result was that her pussy spread wide, opening for him completely in a way that made her feel incredibly exposed. “Kerov…” she started but before she could say anymore, he was pulling off his belt and looping it around her left arm and leg, then pulling it tight to lock her in place. “Kerov,” she protested again, her heart pounding. “I don’t know…know how I

feel about this.” “Have to hold you in place…hold you open,” he growled. She started to reply but Kerov already had his face buried between her thighs and was lapping hungrily at her open folds. His thick black leather belt was clamped over her knee and elbow, holding her down—holding her open. Frankie struggled uselessly against the restraint but soon she realized there was nothing she could do to get free. Nothing she could do but try to be open for him and let him lick and suck and taste her pussy as much as he wanted to. Dios! Her heart was jackhammering in her chest and her breath was coming short. He could do anything to her now—anything he wanted and she couldn’t stop him! She’d never felt so helpless before—so scared and small and uncertain. But at the same time, her body was still responding to his—if anything her pussy felt even wetter, spurred on by his surprising show of dominance. “Gods, your pussy is sweet—knew it would be,” she heard him growl. And then his tongue was lashing her clit, sliding deep into her slippery inner folds to find the little pleasure button and torture it relentlessly until she moaned and bucked back against him, hardly able to breathe it felt so good. “Kerov!” she gasped as he lapped at her hungrily, his other hand kneading her ass restlessly. “Dios! Take…take it easy!” But it was as if he hadn’t heard her. “Such a sweet little slit,” he muttered, licking even harder. Then she felt his tongue slip inside her, sliding deep into her pussy channel as though he was eager to catch every last drop of her honey. Frankie moaned and writhed under his hungry assault. God, of all the times she’d fantasized about this act, she’d never imagined it would be like this. So out of control…so primal…so wild. She’d thought a man would lay her gently on the bed and coax her legs apart, kissing her pussy gently and tenderly. But nothing could have prepared her for this reality—for Kerov’s relentless need to hold her down and taste her as deeply as he could. His hot tongue seemed to be everywhere—thrusting inside her one moment to fill her channel, then flicking over her clit the next, teasing her sensitive little

button until she thought she might scream. Frankie writhed helplessly against his restraining hands and belt as she felt the pleasure building inside her. She couldn’t believe she was spread out on the bed, naked and pinned to the mattress as the huge Kindred took her from behind with his tongue. She was getting close…so close. And then he changed the game again. His tongue was replaced by his fingers, their tips lightly circling her throbbing clit, pushing her relentlessly closer and closer to the edge. Just as she felt herself tipping over, sliding into a deep ocean of pleasure, she felt his tongue again—this time probing at her tightly pursed rosebud. “Kerov!” she gasped, bolting upright—as much as she could, anyway. He still had her locked open with his belt around her left elbow and leg and she was helpless to get away—helpless to even shut her legs as he pressed his tongue deeper and deeper into her tight nether opening. A hungry growl was her only answer as Kerov continued to explore her. Frankie moaned and writhed under him, shamefully aroused by the forbidden act. It was one thing to let him taste her pussy but this…she’d never even thought about letting a man do this to her before. Putting his tongue in her there just seemed wrong somehow. Stop…have to stop him! He shouldn’t do this…I shouldn’t want him to do this! And yet, she couldn’t deny that it was incredibly erotic. Feeling him penetrate her ass with his tongue as he circled her clit with his fingers was pushing her to orgasm faster than ever, even though she wasn’t sure she wanted to reach it this way. She couldn’t help herself though—she was right on the edge—she was going to come. She couldn’t stop…couldn’t hold back. “Kerov!” she wailed as he pressed even deeper, penetrating her as he teased her swollen clit. “Madre de Dios…Kerov! You…you shouldn’t go there! Please, I don’t want you to! You…you shouldn’t!” Kerov pulled back for a moment, withdrawing his tongue. Frankie panted in relief, certain that this was it—surely he had heard her pleas and he was going to stop now, to let her go. But he didn’t release the belt that held her or let her close her legs. Instead, she felt his hot breath on her ass and then he nipped her cheek

sharply, making her jump and moan in fear and anticipation. “Gonna make you come,” he growled hungrily. “Come so hard all over my face, shalla.” Frankie trembled uncertainly. “Kerov, please…” she began. Then two long, thick fingers slid into her pussy. At the same time, his tongue plunged deep into her rosebud, skewering her completely. The sensation of being penetrated by both his fingers and his tongue was too much for her. The orgasm she’d been trying to hold back broke over her in dizzying waves, making her inner pussy clench tight around his invading fingers. Her toes curled, her back arched, and Frankie actually saw stars, she came so hard—harder than she ever had in her life. “Kerov…” She nearly sobbed his name as he fucked into her, thrusting hard with his fingers and tongue, making her moan, making her come for him whether she wanted to or not. “Dios…oh, Dios…” She didn’t know how long the pleasure lasted, only that it seemed to go on and on until she didn’t know if she would ever be able to stand again. Kerov stayed with her through it all, holding steady despite her frantic movements. Then, as the intense orgasm finally began to dissipate, he started licking and sucking her again. Frankie wailed with mingled pleasure and fear. Dios, was he going to do it to her again? She didn’t know if she could take any more—it was too much, too intense. But though her mind didn’t know if she could take another round of pleasure, her body seemed to have other ideas. Again and again Kerov brought her to the edge and pushed her over until she was trembling and moaning, until she was too weak to do anything but lie there and take it. Her whole body seemed to be one giant throb of pleasure and though she didn’t want them to, her pussy and rosebud opened to him again and again, giving him exactly what he wanted though Frankie herself didn’t want to give it. The frightening, shameful pleasure went on and on forever until Frankie lost all track of time. It seemed she had always been there with the big Kindred, had always been pinned to the bed with his belt wrapped cruelly around her arm and

leg, holding her in place. Seemed she had always been open and helpless under him, waiting for her body to be plundered over and over with no end in sight. Just when she thought she might faint he finally withdrew panting. “Gods, shalla,” he growled hoarsely. “Your ass and pussy are so sweet…couldn’t get enough of you. I could feast on you all night.” A spark of terror went through her. Dios, she couldn’t take any more! Not now that the pleasure was finally beginning to recede, allowing her to catch her breath at last. “No more, please…” she whispered. “Belt…so tight.” Silently Kerov removed the belt and at last she was able to shut her thighs—but she found she barely had the strength to do so. All she could do was lay there on the bed, feeling utterly spent. Her legs felt weak and trembly and her breath was still coming in short gasps as though she’d just run a five minute mile. Her eyes were closed as she tried to recover from what was undoubtedly the most scary and intense sexual experience of her life. “Dios,” she whispered softly and felt something warm and wet rolling down the side of her face. Lifting one trembling hand to her cheek she found she was crying. “Dios…Madre de Dios…” “Frankie?” Kerov sounded worried. “Frankie, are you well? I know I got a little, er, carried away. Did I…hurt you?” “I…I don’t know. I don’t think so.” She tried to roll over and found she couldn’t —the arm and leg he’d cinched tight with his belt felt numb and tingly and didn’t seem to want to do what she asked of them. “I’m sorry…so sorry.” There was remorse in his deep voice now as he rubbed the red marks the belt had made on her smooth skin. “I don’t…don’t know why I did that.” “You scared me,” Frankie whispered and felt fresh tears come to her eyes, hot and stinging. Her chest seemed to be a cauldron of emotions—relief that the encounter seemed to be over, shame that he’d made her come in such a way, uncertainty about what might happen next…

After the extreme physical release he’d forced from her, the confusing feelings overwhelmed her and Frankie felt helpless to fight them off. She sobbed helplessly into her cupped hands, hiding her face, not wanting him to see her cry. “Frankie, I’m so sorry,” he said again, sounding anguished this time. “I…I don’t know what came over me. Lust, I suppose.” He put a hand tentatively on her shoulder but Frankie jerked away. “Don’t touch me.” “I’m sorry.” He withdrew quickly. “It’s just that…you’re so different from every other female I’ve ever been with. So soft and lush and curvy with your ripe, gorgeous posterior…” Frankie gave a ragged laugh through her tears. “I thought Tarsians didn’t like a woman who had hips and an ass.” She sniffed and swiped at her eyes, looking up at him. “Even Jorn told me that Xirnah was the ideal woman—that she was your ideal woman.” He gave a hollow laugh. “Why would my ideal be a female who was frigid and boney and cold? You’re the kind of female I’ve always longed for—lush and curved and beautiful—the kind I knew I could never have.” He reached for her again but Frankie pulled instinctively away. “Don’t.” “I’m sorry.” The despair in his eyes was hard to look at so Frankie looked away. She still felt shaky and raw and vulnerable. Her first experience letting a man taste her hadn’t gone at all how she’d imagined it would. She rubbed absently at the belt mark on her arm and bit her lip. “I’ve lost you, haven’t I? Lost any chance I ever had of being with you.” Kerov ran a hand through his hair. “Goddess, I’m such an idiot…such a fool.” Frankie lifted her chin and glared at him. The feelings of helpless fear and vulnerability were giving way to anger. “You should have told me you wanted to tie me up. You should have told me you

wanted to…to taste me there.” She nodded down at herself, her thighs squeezed tightly together. She could still feel the tingling in her pussy and rosebud where he had penetrated her so relentlessly. “We agreed you could kiss my pussy but not my…not the other. You didn’t even ask first—and then you wouldn’t stop even when I begged you to! That’s not okay, you big pendejo!” Kerov didn’t try to defend himself or refute her claims. “I have no defense,” he said in a low voice. “I gave way to the desires that have been pent up inside me for years and didn’t think of your comfort. I thought only of making you come—of feeling your sweet pussy and ass clench around me as pleasure overwhelmed you.” “Well, you did that,” Frankie said shortly. She was beginning to get more control of her emotions although she still felt shaky and uncertain. She lifted her chin. “More than did it, actually. I never…” Suddenly, she had a thought—they weren’t actually through yet! The priestess had said they had to bring each other to orgasm, yet only she had come. Kerov had yet to reach the “brink of pleasure” as their advisor in the Sacred Grove had called it. Madre de Dios, was she really going to have to go through that again? Frankie didn’t know if she could. She felt shaky right now—vulnerable. She didn’t think she could have another sexual encounter with the big Kindred right away. She didn’t fully trust him anymore. Still, what was the alternative? Would they Switch bodies again and never get back to where they belonged? Would they be stuck forever if she didn’t follow through? I’ll have to do it, she told herself, trying to find the strength. I’ll just have to manage somehow. Clearing her throat, she looked at the big Kindred. Kerov was scowling down at his big hands as though he hated what he saw. Dios, this wasn’t going to be easy… “Kerov?” she said tentatively. “Yes?” He didn’t look up.

“Look…” Frankie wasn’t exactly sure how to broach the subject. “I know… know we’re not quite, uh, done yet…” “What are you talking about?” he growled. “Of course we’re done. After the way I treated you…” “No, no—” Frankie interrupted quickly. “I mean, we’re not quite done doing what the, uh, priestess told us to do. “She said…” She cleared her throat. “Said that we had to bring each other to the brink. You, uh, brought me to the edge but I never—” “You don’t have to worry about that,” he said shortly. “Yes, I do,” Frankie protested. “If I don’t want to be stuck in your body with you stuck in mine forever. We have to—” “I came,” he said flatly and looked at her with self-loathing burning in his pale gray eyes. “Came harder than I ever have when I forced you open and took what I wanted…what you didn’t want to give, even as you begged me to stop. So you need not worry about fulfilling the priestess’ orders—they have been fulfilled.” “I…you did?” Frankie could scarcely believe him. How could he come just from tasting her? Had the experience been that powerfully erotic for him or was he just saying it to end their encounter? She couldn’t take a risk. “I don’t believe you,” she said flatly. “Show me.” “You want proof?” He’d been leaned over, sitting on the side of the bed with his elbows resting on his knees. Now he sat up, and pointed to his flat, muscular belly. Sure enough, Frankie could see the silvery-white seed smeared on his smooth, tan skin. “I…you…” She didn’t know what to say. “You see? I came when I penetrated you over and over against your will just now.” His deep voice was low with self-hatred. “What?” Frankie shook her head. “What are you saying?” “What does it sound like I’m saying?” He barked a harsh laugh and rose from the bed. “I’m saying it gave me such pleasure to hold you down and take what I

wanted that I came. How sick is that?” “Look, I didn’t say what you did was sick exactly,” Frankie protested. “Just scary. That…” she cleared her throat. “I mean, that was my first time having a guy, uh, go down on me. I told you that Carlos never would?” He gave another rueful, jagged laugh. “So even your ex-mate is more worthy to be with you than I am! At least he never pinned you down and took what you were unwilling to give.” “Kerov—” “So.” He began fastening his tros with quick, jerky motions. “Now your opinion of me—and probably of all my kind—has been proved right. I am unworthy—a beast.” “I never said all that!” Frankie protested hotly, upset all over again. “You said enough—all of it true,” he growled, pulling on his uniform shirt. “Where are you going?” Frankie demanded. “I’m leaving. We’ve done what we came here to do—we’re separated from each other permanently. You don’t have to worry about Switching with me again or ever seeing me again for that matter. I’ll go back to my home world and you can go back to yours.” Frankie felt a stab of pain at his brusque, angry words. So he wanted to just leave and pretend nothing had ever happened? Wanted them to go back to their own worlds and just forget each other—after all they’d been through? “Fine,” she heard herself say. “If…if that’s the way you want it.” “I think it’s clear that’s the way things have to be,” he snapped back. “All right.” Frankie stood on shaky legs and began gathering her things. She pulled on the Sponge Bob pajamas, wishing desperately for something more dignified to wear. Unfortunately, these were the only clothes she had, which was going to make it hard to make a grand exit from the room.

There was something else that made it hard to exit from the room—Kerov. She couldn’t help ing the time they’d spent living each other’s lives—in each other bodies. Their sexual encounter hadn’t gone the way she’d thought it would—in fact, it had been the exact opposite of all her dreams and fantasies. Instead of gentle and tender, it had been frightening and incredibly intense but it had meant something, damn it! Hadn’t it? At least to Frankie it had. How could Kerov desire her so intensely one minute and then want nothing to do with her the next? It hurt—hurt a Hell of a lot though Frankie didn’t want to it it, even to herself. But there didn’t seem to be anything she could say to change the situation. At last they were both dressed and standing there across from each other. Frankie felt at a loss—what should she do? Was there anything left to say? Anything else that could be done? Kerov solved her problem neatly and completely. He gave her a cold, stiff bow and when he raised up, his piercing grey eyes were cool. “Kerov—” she started to say but he cut her off. “Farewell, Frankie. May Fortune favor you in this life and the one to come.” “Right.” Frankie was hard pressed to hold back the tears but she lifted her chin and glared back at him. “You have a nice life too.” He inclined his head and made an “after you” gesture with one hand. Blinking her eyes fiercely to keep back the hot droplets she felt gathering behind her lids, Frankie took his silent invitation and left the bedroom. She didn’t stop when she reached the living area of the suite either—she just kept walking, right out the door. What else could she do?

Twenty-Two

“Are you finally awake? Good. No doubt you’re wondering why I’ve brought you here.” The male who looked exactly like him stalked around Sylvan, grinning maniacally. “Wha—?” The world was still blurry around the edges and Sylvan’s arms and legs didn’t want to work properly. In fact, they didn’t want to work at all. He tried to clench his hand into a fist but his fingers didn’t even twitch. Even the dull, throbbing pain he’d had ever since the strange rodent creature had bitten his thumb had disappeared, though he could still see the bandage on his injured digit. His entire body was just…numb. The one exception was his head which he could move, but only a little. And there was something clamped around his temples—something tight and hard and cold. A metal circlet of some kind? But why? “Are you alert now? I don’t want to have to start again,” the male said, sounding irritated. Sylvan glared at him. “Who in the Seven Hells are you and why do you look like me? And what have you done to me? Why can’t I move?” “Ah—that’s more like it!” The male who looked exactly like him smiled, clearly pleased. “Now, as I was saying, you’re probably wondering why I’ve brought you here. The answer is, my dear Commander Sylvan, to gloat.” “What?” Sylvan frowned. “What are you talking about?” “You heard me—I wanted to gloat before I truly got my plan under way.” The male who looked enough like him to be his twin grinned, his fangs, so exactly like Sylvan’s own, gleaming whitely. Wait a minute—twin—he looks enough like me to be my twin! Sylvan began to get a very bad feeling in the pit of his stomach. Who was it who had warned him about twins recently? Rone—Kate’s mate, that was who. He had told Sylvan that Kate had had a Knowing dream…suddenly the Wulven Kindred’s words came back to him, as clear as a bell.

“…as I was holding her in my arms, she kept murmuring, ‘Tell Sylvan he’s not safe…tell him to beware his twin. His twin is danger.” Sylvan, not having a twin, had discounted the words completely, thinking that perhaps Kate had been mistaken or had just had a nightmare. Now he realized that in ignoring her warning, he might have made the biggest mistake of his life. “As I was saying,” his twin said, grinning at him. “I wanted to see the look on your face when I told you what I have planned for your beloved Mother Ship and every single male, female, and child aboard it.” “Who are you?” Sylvan demanded again. “And how in the Seven Hells are you wearing my face?” “Why, it’s me—your old friend, Two. Don’t you recognize me?” The male laughed. “But I guess you wouldn’t, would you? Which leads to the answer to your other question about me wearing your oh-so-handsome face. It wasn’t easy, you know. It involved a long and arduous transformation inside the AllFather’s Souda back on the Scourge home world. I think it came out rather well, don’t you?” He turned from side to side, as though to let Sylvan ire him. “Of course, first I had to collect a sample of your DNA but I sent one of my furry little pets for that.” He looked at Sylvan’s bandaged thumb and made a tsking sound. “I see you’re still injured—so sorry about that! Their bites can take months to heal.” “You’re sick,” Sylvan growled at him. “No one disputes that.” Two waved a hand as though it didn’t matter. “I’m also quite completely insane—but in a good way.” He laughed—Sylvan’s own laugh but horribly distorted. “Now listen, because I don’t intend to repeat myself. I am going to take over your entire ship and there is nothing—nothing you can do to stop me.” We’ll see about that. Concentrating hard, Sylvan reached for his link with his mate—the soul bond which every Kindred male forms with his female when he bonds her to him as he had done with Sophia. “Sophia,” he sent urgently. “Two’s aboard the Mother Ship! You need to alert the Council and get yourself and the children back to Earth and safety!”

But his warning fell flat—or rather, it felt as though it hit a steel wall and bounced back at him. Try as he might, Sylvan couldn’t achieve any communication with his mate. What in the Seven Hells was going on? “Ah—I see you’ve discovered that I’ve blocked the communication between you and your mate.” Two leaned down and tapped the metal band that encircled Sylvan’s temples. “This little device is a mental blocker—most useful when you want to keep your victim from calling for help telepathically. Or from warning future victims. And by that, I mean your lovely bride and your charming children, of course.” “Let me go,” Sylvan demanded hoarsely. “If you fucking touch one hair of their heads I swear by the Goddess—” “Oh yes, the Goddess. By all means, let’s invoke the Goddess.” Two made a dismissive gesture. “If you’re quite done calling for help from a divinity who doesn’t exist, can I please get on with telling you my plan? I’ve been working on it for ages and I’m just dying to share it with someone!” “You—” “Good!” Two clapped his hands. “Now, speaking of transformations as we were earlier, here is my plan for the Mother Ship—every single one of them is going to change drastically from the inside out. All thanks to this.” He pulled a small, black leather satchel from his pocket and flipped it open. Inside were a gleaming row of test tubes filled with glowing blue liquid. Sylvan felt sick but he tried not to show it. “What is that—poison?” he demanded harshly. “Poison? Oh no! Well, not to most people. Although around about ten to twenty percent of the Mother Ship inhabitants won’t be able to metabolize it and it will surely kill them in the most agonizing way possible. So I guess to them it will be poison,” Two said musingly. “But to everyone else, this is liquid of transformation—the water of life! And in fact, the Mother Ship’s water supply is exactly where I’m going to put it.” “What is it exactly?” Sylvan ground out, trying to keep both his rage and his

panic at bay. There was nothing he could do right now but listen to Two’s ravings and try to get as much information from the bastard as he could. “Why it’s me.” Two beamed at him but then, clearly seeing the look of incomprehension on Sylvan’s face, he continued impatiently. “This liquid contains nanobots that will inject a virus I have specially formulated with my own personality. I made a copy of myself on the Father Ship of the Scourge, you see—quite a large fellow, I grew him in the Flesh Tanks—and I found it lovely to have such a like minded person about. In fact, I liked it so much that I decided to make a whole army of me-s.” Sylvan shook his head, trying to take it all in. “What…what are you saying? That every male, female, and child on the Mother Ship who drinks your infected water will end up looking like you?” “Oh no—that’s the beauty of it, my dear Commander. They won’t look like me on the outside—they’ll be me on the inside. My personality will infect them like, well, like a virus. Slowly it will take over their minds until their brains are exact duplicates of my own. Except for the ten to twenty percent who don’t survive the process, of course.” Two made a dismissive gesture. “But that’s an acceptable loss. There will still be more than enough of my mental clones to run and populate the Mother Ship.” “Goddess…” Sylvan stared at him, hardly able to believe this level of madness or the magnitude of Two’s evil. “I know—it’s quite an ingenious plan, isn’t it?” Two smiled modestly, flashing Sylvan’s own fangs at him again. “You can see why I was so eager to share it with you before I implemented it. Especially since you’re essentially paralyzed right now and can do nothing to stop me.” “You bastard,” Sylvan growled. “You’ll never be able to pull this off—someone will stop you!” “And who would that be?” Two opened his eyes wide in mocking query. “Who would dare to question the great Commander Sylvan, head of the Kindred High Council? Who’s going to look twice if I say I want to inspect the water supply? And who’s going to refuse a glass of delicious, refreshing water when I offer it to them? Surely not your lovely mate, Sophia.”

Sylvan felt the red curtain of rage wanting to fall over his vision and fought it with all his might. It was natural for a Kindred warrior to go into rage when his mate was threatened but he couldn’t afford to lose his senses now. He had to keep Two talking. If only he could keep the bastard here, boasting about his own cleverness until the drug he’d given Sylvan wore off…Already Sylvan could twitch his fingers again. Not much, but a little at least. If he could only… “So that’s my plan—I just wanted you to know.” Two snapped the black leather satchel closed, effectively hiding the deadly nanobot laced formula. “You can sit here and think about it for a while. By the time the paralytic I gave you wears off, it will all be over and done with. Just think, the next time you embrace your sweet mate and children, it’s actually me you’ll be holding in your arms.” Two laughed nastily. “That is if they all survive the transformation. They have an eighty percent chance, after all so don’t fret.” “You bastard,” Sylvan swore hoarsely. “Don’t you fucking touch them—if you try this I swear I’ll kill you. No matter how long it takes me to do it, I will end you!” “Ah, but can you end all of me?” Two laughed. “There are shortly going to be tens of thousands more of me running around—how will you kill them all? Will you murder everyone you used to love when they become nothing but shells for my sparkling personality?” He laughed again, a horrible mockery of Sylvan’s own laugh. “Well, I’ll leave you to think about that, shall I? Right now I have a date with the water supply.” Before Sylvan could say anything else, he had slipped out of the small storage closet and closed it firmly behind him. There was a click as the lock snicked shut. “Two, you bastard, come back here!” Sylvan shouted but his voice was muffled by the closet’s metal door and the cleaning supplies stacked around him. He was alone and paralyzed in the dark, helpless to stop Two’s foul plan.

Twenty-Three

“Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid,” Kerov muttered to himself as he paced the corridors of the Mother Ship. “How could I be so Goddess-damned stupid? How could I—oof!” In his anger and distraction, he had run right into another male. “Excuse me,” Kerov muttered, stepping back, and then realized the other male was Commander Sylvan. “Oh, greetings, Commander,” he said. “Forgive me—I wasn’t looking where I was going.” “Quite all right, er…” The Commander frowned. “Kerov,” Kerov said, realizing that Sylvan wouldn’t know it was him in his own body if he didn’t say so. “Um, Frankie and I, er, managed to Switch back.” “Is that right? How nice for you, Perov.” Sylvan smiled. “So—leaving so soon? The Mother Ship is an exciting place to be and it’s about to get even more exciting.” He laughed, as though at a private joke. “Yes, I’m leaving,” Kerov said shortly. There was something different about the Kindred Commander but Kerov couldn’t put his finger on it. Something about his hand? Whatever—why should I care? “A pity.” Commander Sylvan seemed distracted. “If you could only stay a bit longer I’m certain you’d feel like a whole new male.” He tittered again, as though he found his own statement funny although Kerov couldn’t see why. “I’ve solved my problem and now I’m going,” he said tightly, hoping the other male wouldn’t want him to stay and try to fulfill the foolish prophesy everyone seemed to think was so important. “I’m sorry, Commander, but there’s nothing else for me to do.” “Ah well, there’s plenty more without you—safe flight.” The commander pulled out the black leather satchel he’d had earlier at the HKR building and patted it. “Enjoy yourself—I’m off to give some very thirsty people a drink.” Kerov had no idea what he was talking about and he didn’t really care. As Commander Sylvan walked breezily past him, he sank back into his morbid

thoughts. How could he have lost control and let himself do what he had done to Frankie? He couldn’t explain what had happened—couldn’t excuse his actions except to say that the sight of her round, luscious, naked ass had driven all rational thought out of his mind. He had become a creature of pure lust intent on making her come—and unwilling to curb his insatiable desires even when she begged him to stop. What’s wrong with me? Why would I act that way? I spent years curbing my desires when I was with Xirnah and the partners I had before her. I never once stepped over the line or did more than what the State mandated as an allowable sexual practice. But the minute I get a little freedom and a female I actually care about, I lose all control and do the unthinkable! And then, to make things worse, he had parted from her in the worst way possible. There was no possibility she would ever consider him as a potential mate now. Not after he had violated her against her will and then left her in such a cold and insulting fashion. Kerov hated himself for what he’d done. He stomped along, not looking where he was going, musing over his own shortcomings and inadequacies until he heard his footsteps echoing hollowly. Looking up, he saw that his feet had taken him back to the docking bay. Well, that really wasn’t so surprising, was it? What else was there to do now but go home? Now if he could just get someone to call him a shuttle… “Hello, Brother.” The unfamiliar voice made him jerk his head up. A tall Kindred with shaggy black hair and brilliant blue eyes was coming towards him. Apparently, he had just alighted from one of the shuttles. “Hello,” Kerov said shortly. He didn’t feel like being drawn into conversation. He tried to walk past the stranger but the other male stepped in front of him. “Forgive my intrusion, but would you happen to be a Switch Kindred?” “What?” Kerov frowned at him. “How in the Seven Hells did you know that?”

“I dreamed of you. Or well…” The male cleared his throat. “My mate, Kate, dreamed of you and I shared the dream. You’re the one the prophesy spoke of— the One who Jumps True, are you not?” “I don’t know about that,” Kerov growled. “As of right now the only person I’ve ever ‘jumped’ into is an Earth female. And it doesn’t look like she and I will be jumping or Switching any more since I’ve given her mortal offense and she wants nothing more to do with me.” The moment the words were out of his mouth he wished he could call them back. He didn’t even know this male’s name—there was no need to dump his recent failing out between them like a spilled pail of garbage. But he was so angry and upset, somehow it had just come out. To his surprise, though, the other male didn’t back away or make an excuse to be somewhere else or pretend that Kerov hadn’t spoken frankly, as someone of Kerov’s home world would have. Instead he addressed the issue, speaking in a quiet voice that was somehow calming. “Ah—and I take it you regret this offense that you gave to your female?” “She’s not my female,” Kerov spat. “And yes, I regret it! How could I not?” “What did you say that she found so offensive?” the other male asked reasonably. “Maybe it was a matter of cultural difference that can be cleared up with an explanation. These things are pretty common when you’re dealing with people from completely different worlds.” “It wasn’t something I said. Or it didn’t start that way.” Kerov sighed. “It was something I did. But I do not wish to talk about it,” he added in a growl, wondering why he had said so much already. “Understandable.” The other male nodded. “I’m Rone, by the way.” He held out an arm and Kerov took it reflexively in a warrior’s grasp. “And you said you saw me in a dream?” Kerov asked, frowning as they ended the grasp. “What exactly did you see me doing?” “Nothing—I swear. Kate only caught a brief glimpse of your face and then she was told that you were the one we’d been waiting for—the one who was

supposed to fulfill the prophesy.” “Yes, I heard that idiotic prophesy,” Kerov growled. “It makes no damn sense. I only came to the Mother Ship so that Frankie and I could be Switched back into our own bodies permanently and stop taking over each other’s bodies and lives.” “Well, it seems you accomplished what you came for,” Rone said neutrally. “Yes, but at what price?” Kerov sighed. “I’ve gotten her out of my body but I can’t get her out of my heart. And now I’ll never see her again.” “Again, most misunderstandings can be cleared up if you just talk about them,” Rone said reasonably. “I’m not just offering free advice either—I know what I’m talking about. My mate and I nearly split forever not too long ago because I refused to listen to what she had to say.” “You were on the brink of permanent separation?” Kerov raised an eyebrow at him. “Even though you were already bonded? I thought such things did not happen when Kindred were allowed to bond for life to one they love.” “Such things don’t happen if you’re not acting like a damn fool,” Rone said, frowning. “Which I was—I it it. Kate and I had a misunderstanding of a…” He cleared his throat. “Of a sexual nature. And I wasn’t willing to hear her when she talked about it.” “Really?” Kerov frowned. “A sexual misunderstanding?” He shook his head. “Why would you tell me that? I just met you.” Rone sighed. “Look—to be completely honest I’m a Wulven Kindred. Our senses are incredibly sharp.” His nose wrinkled slightly. “So I can tell you’ve, uh, recently been with your female. And now you’re upset and you think she can never forgive you for whatever it is you’ve done—right?” “Well…yes.” “Which reminded me of my own misunderstanding with Kate. Naturally a male doesn’t usually share information about his intimate relations with his mate with another male, but you seem in need of help. So…” Rone shrugged. “Forgive me if I’m wrong—I just don’t want to see you make the same mistake I almost made. To think I almost walked away from Kate forever…” He shook his head.

“I love her so much it hurts—you know? And I almost lost her.” “Well, I have lost Frankie. After what I did…she can never forgive me. And she didn’t like Kindred in the first place.” Kerov felt strange telling a male he barely knew but Rone was being so forthcoming he felt more open himself. And it was nice to speak to someone who understood. “Maybe you haven’t lost her,” Rone said. “What did you do? I swear I won’t tell anyone and maybe I can be of some help to you when it comes to dealing with your Earth female. They can be tricky at times.” Rone gestured to the walkway leading around the docking bay. “Come, let’s walk and talk.” “All right.” As strange as it seemed, Kerov found he wanted to unburden himself to the other male. And after all, it wasn’t like he would ever see him again, he reasoned. After he left the Mother Ship, he was never coming back so he would never see anyone aboard it again. Feeling reassured at that thought, he began to talk… “…so I completely lost control of myself and did things that we had not agreed on before hand,” he found himself explaining to Rone some time later. “I didn’t mean to but I just…” “Just couldn’t help yourself?” Rone finished for him softly. “Exactly.” Kerov sighed. “You have to understand—there is no one like Frankie on my home planet. There the Kindred have interbred with the Tarsians and though the Kindred male genes breed true, the females are rare and have taken on Tarsian characteristics for the most part.” “Which are?” Rone raised one black eyebrow. “They’re thin—extremely so—with narrow hips and almost no posterior to speak of,” Kerov described a narrow inverted V with his hands. “It’s not that they’re not pretty but, well…there’s not much to hold on to. And of course, we aren’t allowed to hold on to it. All sexual encounters are mandated by the State.” “You live in a place where the government controls who you have sex with?” Rone gave a long, low whistle. “I don’t envy you that, my friend.” “Not only that but the Ministry of Matching makes certain to match only

incompatible partners who have almost zero likelihood of falling in love,” Kerov told him. “It’s believed that allowing romantic feelings to blossom between partners will deter us from doing our jobs properly.” “Fucking barbaric,” Rone growled, frowning. “So for your whole life you’ve been matched with females you had nothing in common with and didn’t particularly like.” “That about sums it up.” Kerov nodded. “My last partner was pretty enough— though she was extremely thin. But she hated me and honestly, I wasn’t fond of her either. I dreaded our State-mandated sexual relations.” “And then, after years of that, you suddenly meet Frankie. And she’s not only a female you can care about, she has physical attributes you find attractive too— am I right?” Rone asked. Kerov nodded again. “Exactly! I was angry with her at first—well, she basically hijacked my body because of the Switch. But the more I got to know her, the more I liked and respected her. And then when I was Switched into her body and I saw how she was shaped…” He shook his head, ing Frankie’s luscious body. “She’s different from what you’re used to, I take it?” Rone asked. “Extremely. She has curves.” Kerov described a full hourglass shape in the air with his hands this time. “Gods, she’s fucking gorgeous. Her ass…” He shook his head. “I shouldn’t talk about her this way—it’s not respectful. But her ass is amazing. So full and ripe…” He sighed sadly. “Not that I’ll ever get to touch her again.” “But you did get to touch her once,” Rone pointed out. “Because the priestess in the Sacred Grove mandated it,” Kerov said. “She told us it was the only way to Switch back into our own bodies.” “And clearly it worked. But what did you do that offended her so much? You said you lost control?” “I did.” Kerov hung his head. “I…used my belt on her.”

“You struck her?” Rone’s eyebrows shot up in shock. “No, no—I didn’t strike her. I would never do that!” Kerov protested quickly. “Not that what I did was much better.” He felt a surge of self-loathing as she spoke. “What did you do with the belt?” Rone asked quietly. “I used it to tie her—to hold her in place…hold her open so that I could have complete access to her,” Kerov itted. “You see, on my home world of Tarsia, we are not allowed to, er, taste our females.” “You aren’t?” Rone gave him a look of pure disbelief mingled with pity. “Gods —you poor bastard! How do you stand it?” Kerov was a little taken aback at his new friend’s reaction. “We just…don’t do it. It’s considered sick—depraved,” he explained. “But it isn’t like the State is denying us food or water or some other essential need.” “That’s exactly what it’s like,” Rone said. “Look, as a Wulven Kindred, I have a biological imperative to taste my female often—only by giving her pleasure am I able to hold my inner Beast in check. But every Kindred male, no matter what his lineage or race, has the Goddess-given need to taste his female. Denying a male that right is like starving a part of him.” Kerov frowned. “Are you certain about that?” “Hell yes, I’m certain!” Rone exclaimed. “No wonder you went a little crazy when you finally had the female you could love in your arms and were finally allowed to taste her.” He held up a finger. “I’m not saying it excuses what you did—it’s not right to tie a female down or ignore her wishes to stop, even in the heat of the moment. But you were probably like a male who’d been starving all of his life suddenly presented with a delicious feast.” “I suppose—” Kerov began but Rone held up a hand to stop him. “Forgive me, but…do you hear that?” They had wandered away from the main docking bay and into a small service

corridor that connected it to other areas. Kerov stood still and strained his ears but he heard nothing. Wulven Kindred really must have incredibly sharp senses, he thought. “Wait—there it is again!” Rone ran a few feet down the corridor and Kerov followed him. After a moment, he heard it—a faint, muffled shouting but it was coming from a voice so hoarse he couldn’t make out any words at all. “Goddess—I know that voice!” Rone sniffed deeply and lowered his head, like a tracking animal on a scent. After a moment, he came to a supply closet. He tried the handle but it wouldn’t budge. “Locked!” The muffled shouting began again. This time, Kerov thought it sounded familiar. “Is that…” “Help me break it!” Rone already had his shoulder to the door. Kerov ed him and in a minute they had forced the closet door open to reveal… “Commander Sylvan!” Rone exclaimed. “I thought it sounded like you! What in the Seven Hells are you doing here?” “No time…” Sylvan’s voice was hoarse and ragged and he was propped against a supply cupboard. His arms flopped uselessly and he seemed to be unable to stand. There was a dull silver band strapped tightly around his temples. “Can’t move…Two drugged me,” he rasped. “Two? Two what?” Kerov asked but Rone’s eyes widened in apparent understanding. “Gods! He’s here aboard the ship?” “He’s trying…trying to…he…” Sylvan made an effort to move and only succeeded in sitting up for a moment before slumping down again. “Take this damn thing off my head—thought blocker—have to warn…warn Sophia.” “Warn her of what?” Rone was already kneeling down, working to get the metal band which was twisted cruelly tight off of Sylvan’s forehead and temples. “I don’t understand this,” Kerov growled, frowning at them. “How can you be

here looking like this, Commander Sylvan, when I just saw you not half an ahrn ago in one of the main corridors. What happened to you?” “That wasn’t me, you saw,” Sylvan rasped. Rone had loosened the metal band and somehow Sylvan managed to raise his hand and bat it away. The flash of the white bandage around his thumb caught Kerov’s eye and suddenly he ed thinking there was something different about the commander when he’d seen him earlier. His thumb—it wasn’t bandaged when I saw him earlier. And it wasn’t when I saw him down at the HKR building either. But he was wearing the bandage when we talked on the viewscreen and again when he met my shuttle in the docking bay. What in the Seven Hells is going on? “Who did I see if it wasn’t you, Commander?” he demanded, staring down at the supine Sylvan. “Two—the Dark Kindred.” Sylvan opened his eyes—clearly he’d been concentrating on a metal communication, probably with his mate. But now he looked from Kerov to Rone and back again. “You have to warn them—he looks…looks just like me,” he told Rone. “Like Kate’s dream said—beware my twin. Twin is…is danger…” He had a sudden fit of coughing and Rone leaned down and pounded him on the back. “It’s all right—we’ll catch him. Do you want me to get you some water?” “No!” Sylvan’s eyes widened. “No water—no one should drink anything until Two is stopped.” “What? Why?” Kerov asked, puzzled. “Because that’s what he’s planning—to infect the water supply. Gods, we may already be too late! Hurry—we have to warn the Council!”

Twenty-Four

Terex frowned as he stepped from the shuttle he had flown to pilot Elaina back to the HKR building back on Earth. She was a beautiful woman—slightly older than all the girlish Earth females he often saw being called to the Mother Ship as brides, but no less lovely for that. In fact, Terex thought her maturity and quiet grace made her more attractive than any female he could seeing in a long time. Unfortunately, he hadn’t gotten to talk to her much on the ride back to Earth. She’d been sunk into pensive silence, her beautiful eyes bright with unshed tears. Terex had ached for her, although he didn’t know why. He wanted to comfort her somehow, even though he didn’t know what pained her. Well, what did it matter? The human female’s pain was none of his business. He shook himself, trying to get rid of the foolish emotion. His lovely mate had been dead for years now and his love had died with her. Besides, he was too old to concern himself with matters of the heart—calling a bride was a young male’s game. For now, it was better to immerse himself in work and try to forget the troubling emotions Elaina had somehow raised in him. In fact, he had some unfinished work he needed to attend to right now, he ed. Some proposals to the Council that he was supposed to be going through. But they were on his work tablet in the Council chamber. He would get them now and see if they could drive the distracting images of Elaina from his mind. As he entered the Council chamber, he was surprised to see Commander Sylvan bent over the main workstation. He was scanning furiously and muttering to himself in a way unlike his usual calm personality. “Commander Sylvan?” Terex asked, frowning. “Are you well? Is there a problem?” “Yes, there’s a problem,” Sylvan snarled, his usually calm face twisted into a mask of frustrated fury. “I can’t find the blasted codes!” “The codes? Codes for what?” Terex asked. He had never seen Sylvan so upset —what was going on?

“The codes for the damned water processing chamber, of course,” Sylvan snarled. “I tried going down there but it’s locked up tighter than a Synthian virgin on her ing night! If I can’t get the codes, I need another member of the fucking Council to help me open it so—” He stopped his rant abruptly and stared at Terex. “Wait a minute—I know you.” “Of course you know me. I’m Terex—your predecessor as head of the Council.” Terex was completely unnerved now. Had the male lost his senses? There was a light gleaming in Sylvan’s pale blue eyes that was strange and unsettling— almost manic. And the way he was looking at Terex… “Ah yes—Terex—of course! You’re my predecessor in more than one way, you know,” Sylvan said, smiling so widely that his fangs gleamed. “You hosted Ur the demon—did you not?” “Hosted him?” Terex spat. “More like he took over my body when I was unconscious and helpless. Why would you bring that up now?” “Because…” He began advancing on Terex, grinning maniacally. “I hosted him too. Oh, not in this form, of course—in the one I had before it.” “What in the Seven Hells are you talking about?” Terex demanded, but he was afraid that he already knew. He could tell the signs of possession—of a body being controlled by one who was not its rightful owner. Hadn’t he been in that same position himself? Something or someone was definitely controlling Commander Sylvan. And the only other male he knew who had hosted the demon from the Black Planet, the same one which had controlled his own body was… “Two,” he growled hoarsely. “Ah—you finally got my little hint.” The male who was inhabiting Sylvan’s body grinned. “Yes, it’s Two. And I’ve come to finally collect on the little debt you Kindred of the Mother Ship owe me. It’s not much—just the fact that you ruined my entire society and destroyed the Collective, which I served my entire life.” “Stay back,” Terex growled, drawing his blaster. But he didn’t want to use it if he could help it—what if he damaged Sylvan’s body? Two seemed to sense his hesitation because he laughed heartily.

“Go ahead and shoot, Commander Terex—what do I care about this one body when I’m shortly going to have so many others?” Terex didn’t know what he was talking about but he still wasn’t willing to hurt Sylvan who was an honorable male and didn’t deserve to die just because another had taken him over. Throwing his blaster aside, he rushed the other male instead, tackling him around the middle and throwing both of them to the ground. “Oof!” Two gasped as the wind was knocked out of him. They grappled, Terex grimly trying to get hold of the other male’s arms. He didn’t like to punch Commander Sylvan in the face but he thought it might be necessary. It was the only way to knock him unconscious and only then could Two be extracted from his body. He— Suddenly Two got an arm free and Terex felt something cold and sharp stab him in the shoulder. Immediately, his arms went completely numb followed by his legs and torso. “What in the Seven Hells?” he growled but Two was already pushing him onto his back and laughing. “Good thing I brought an extra dose of the paralytic I used on your friend, Commander Sylvan,” he said, grinning. “Of course, I didn’t inject it near enough to your spine to make you go completely unconscious. A fact I’m afraid you’re going to regret very much in a moment.” “Whaat?” Terex’s tongue was numb too but he still struggled to make himself understood. “But y…you’re in Syl…Sylvan.” “Oh—you mean you think I was inhabiting him the same way Ur inhabited you? And me, for that matter?” Two shook his head. “No, of course not! I simply look like him—it was a long process to go through but it was worth it. Especially now, seeing the realization that you could have and should have blasted me into a million bits just now if only you’d known I wasn’t the real Sylvan.” He laughed nastily. “Being ‘Sylvan’ has been very useful, you know. Especially since his thumbprint and retinal scan are what give me access to every area of the Mother Ship. Well…” He frowned. “Almost every area.”

“You…you can’t…” Terex tried to say but Two kept on talking. “Unfortunately one of the restricted areas I need access to is the water processing chamber. That particular door requires two council to access it.” He cocked his head at Terex, a cruel smile twisting Sylvan’s familiar features. “Correct me if I’m wrong but aren’t you a Council member, my dear Terex?” “You bastard,” Terex growled as Two approached him. He tried to get off the floor, tried to raise his arms in self-defense but the paralytic Two had used on him was completely in effect now. He could barely make his eyes focus—let alone force his body to get up and fight. “Now let’s see if we can’t get the key to that water processing chamber, shall we?” the Dark Kindred purred silkily. “You’re much too heavy to drag so I’m afraid I’ll have to take what I need with me. I like to travel light, you know.” A knife suddenly appeared in his hand—a long, thin, black blade that looked like it would be useful in filleting fish. Terex eyed the blade in horror. Surely Two wouldn’t— A sharp, agonizing pain in his hand cut through the numbness he felt. Looking down, he saw that Two had chopped off his left thumb and was tucking it carefully into his pocket. Dark crimson blood spurted from the ragged stump, wetting the Council chamber floor but Two seemed not to care. “Now then,” he mused, leaning over Terex with a predatory grin. “Which eye shall I take? The right…or the left…?” “Take what…whatever you want you…you bastard,” Terex gasped hoarsely. “You’ll still be caught.” “Oh, I think not.” The bloody tip of the knife got closer to his face and a drop of his own blood dripped in Terex’s left eye. “I think…not.”

“Sylvan? Sylvan!” Sophie rushed down the long, winding corridors of the Mother Ship and Frankie and Kate followed her at a run. Frankie had been in Sophie’s suite, pouring out her heart to them about what a jerk Kerov had turned out to be when Sophie had suddenly gotten an urgent mental message from her man. “Oh no! Oh my God,” she’d cried, jumping up from the couch, clutching her head. At first Frankie had thought she was having some kind of aneurism but then Kate had clutched the side of her head as well and started muttering as though she was talking to herself. She too, had been ed by her man—a Wulven Kindred called Rone. Hurried preparations to make sure the children were safe ensued and then they were all rushing through the Mother Ship as fast as they could, though Frankie still had no idea what was going on. “We’re over here,” a familiar, deep voice said as they rounded a bend in the corridor. Frankie saw that Kerov and another Kindred male—one with shaggy black hair and piercing blue eyes who must be Rone—had Commander Sylvan under the arms and were dragging him along the corridor. “Sylvan! Oh my God—what did he do to you?” Sophie gasped, running up to take her husband’s face in her hands. “What’s wrong with your legs? Why can’t you walk?” “Two gave me some kind of paralytic. It’s wearing off now but slowly.” Sylvan grimaced. “Never mind about me—are our children safe? And has the Council been warned?” “I left Kat and Deep and Lock in charge of all the kids. They were supposed to call Liv and Lauren and Baird and Xairn and all of them together are going to call the Council. They all had think-me’s on when I left,” Sophie said breathlessly. “And did you tell them not to drink the water? That none of them should drink or touch anything that comes out of a tap?” Sylvan asked urgently. “I did but why? What’s going on?”

“Two has some kind of plan to infect the water supply of the Mother Ship,” Rone answered her question. “We hope he won’t be able to carry it out but we have to assume that he has for safety’s sake.” “But can he get into the water supply of the whole ship that easily?” Kate asked, frowning. “I mean, isn’t there some kind of security measure in place?” “There is,” Sylvan said grimly. His deep voice was hoarse. “He needs the codes which are encrypted deep in the main security system or…” He frowned. “Or the thumbprints and retinal scans of two Council —which is why it’s so important to warn them. He’s already got mine because he somehow cloned me and he’s been impersonating me but he needs…Wait. Someone is bespeaking me.” He put a hand to his temple and Frankie began to get a bad feeling in the pit of her stomach. From the look on Commander Sylvan’s face the news he was getting wasn’t good. At last he looked up. “That was Commander Terex. He’s on his way to the closest med center now but he made the guard who found him give him a think-me so he could bespeak me first.” “On his way to the med center? Why?” Sophie exclaimed. “He…because he…Gods.” Sylvan winced as though he could barely get the words out. “Go on, honey—what else did he say?” Sophie urged him. Sylvan sighed heavily. “Terex said Two cut off one of his thumbs and…” He swallowed. “And gouged out his eye.” “Oh, no!” Frankie’s hand flew to her mouth involuntarily. “That’s horrible! Who is this Two person?” “He’s the enemy of the Kindred,” Sylvan said grimly. “And we have to stop him. But if he’s got what he needs to get into the water processing chamber, I don’t know how we can.”

“Send some guards!” Sophie cried. “There must be somebody there who can stop him! Here!” She pulled out her communication device. “I brought my comlink!” Sylvan took the small device and spoke rapidly into it but what he heard in return made his face look even graver. “Keep trying and keep me informed,” he told the person on the other end before ending the connection. Looking up at Sophie, he shook his head. “Two’s already inside the water chamber and he’s managed to jam the door locking mechanism somehow. I’m afraid there’s no way in. No way to stop him.” “Yes, there is.” Kerov spoke up for the first time. All heads turned towards him, including Frankie’s, and her heart began to pound. Please don’t say it! she thought at him as hard has she could, feeling sick. Please don’t say what I think you’re going to say, Kerov! But their mental link was gone now that they were in their own bodies—he couldn’t hear her. “I can Jump into his body and take control—or try to, anyway,” he said, speaking to Commander Sylvan. “That way I can stop him from infecting the water supply—if he hasn’t already.” “He just jammed the door less than a minute ago,” Sylvan said. “And it would take some time to pry open one of the containment tanks. If you really think you can do this, Kerov, now is the time to act.” “But…but what if something happens?” Frankie asked, unable to help herself. “I mean—what if Kerov gets trapped in Two’s body or he can’t stop him or this Two person does something horrible to him? Or…something worse.” “Something worse?” Sophie asked, frowning. “What are you thinking Frankie— just tell us.” Frankie’s throat worked and she could hardly get the words out. “I’m talking about what Kerov’s mom and dad warned us about.” She looked at the big Kindred, her palms damp and her stomach churning. “Kerov—if you die while you’re in a host body, your soul will die too! You know that.”

“That’s a chance I’ll have to take—this must be what the prophesy about ‘one who Jumps true’ means.” There was a grim light in Kerov’s pale gray eyes. He looked at Sylvan. “I’ve never done this before except with Frankie and by accident. I don’t know if I can or not but I’m willing to try, Commander.” “Then go,” Sylvan said decisively. “Stop Two if you can, Kerov. The solution he wants to put in our water supply will kill twenty percent of the Mother Ship and turn the rest into malevolent clones of Two himself. We must prevent that at all costs.” “I’ll try,” Kerov repeated. “You’ll need to watch my body. I’m not sure if Two will be transferred into it. I don’t think so, though—my guess is that since we’re both awake, I’ll be able to take him over while he’s still in his body. I hope, anyway.” “We’ll watch you,” Sylvan promised. “Now hurry—we have no time!” “Very well.” Kerov closed his eyes and appeared to be concentrating hard. Frankie’s heart was in her mouth—she wanted to grab his hand and beg him not to do it even though she knew it was an incredibly selfish impulse. He was trying to save every man, woman, and child aboard the huge Mother Ship but still, she didn’t want him to get hurt. Yes, she was still angry and upset with him for the way things had ended between them but the thought of something happening to the big Kindred seemed to make her heart stop in her chest. “Kerov—” she started. But before she could say anything else, Kerov’s big body suddenly went limp and began to fall. “Catch him!” Frankie gasped, running to grab an arm. He was too big to handle on her own but Sophie and Kate helped too, since Rone was still holding Commander Sylvan up. Between them, they slowly lowered Kerov’s empty body to the ground. “Is he all right?” Sophie asked uncertainly. “I mean, we can tell that Kerov’s gone but is Two in his body now?” “No.” Frankie cradled the big Kindred’s head tenderly and looked down into his

handsome, stern features, now slack with unconsciousness. “No, nobody’s there. Kerov is just…gone.” She felt like crying as she said it but she tried to hold back the tears. Please, she thought, praying desperately. Please let him be all right. Please bring him back safely so I can make things right between us. Please!

There was a strange rushing sound all around him and he was flying through the air more swiftly than any bird. Kerov didn’t know what to expect at the end of this journey. He’d never consciously Switched before—hadn’t even known if it would really be possible. But the moment he’d closed his eyes and concentrated on the fake Commander Sylvan things had begun to happen. He’d been flung from his own body, as though by a slingshot, and now he was rushing down the corridors of the Mother Ship, going through walls and doors alike. Nothing could stop him because he was pure spirit. Pure— His journey came to an end with an almost audible thud. Kerov felt jarred, as though he had hit a brick wall. Suddenly he found himself inside a body—a male body, he could tell at once. He blinked and took in a breath, expanding lungs that weren’t his. When he was with Frankie, being inside her body was a smooth transition. It had felt strange at first but he could make all of her limbs and digits work easily with no problem—he would never have been able to do such complicated yoga poses while he was inside her otherwise. However, this body fought him—it was as though the one he had invaded sensed him at once and immediately began struggling for control. “What?” gasped the male he suddenly found himself in. “What the—” “Enough, Two,” Kerov growled, seizing control of the mouth with some difficulty. “We know what you’re trying to do and it stops now.” “Perov? Is that you?” Two sent incredulously. “I knew I should have killed you earlier!” “It’s Kerov,” Kerov grated out. “Fucking get it right for once!” Looking through the other male’s eyes, he could see a vast metal room filled with huge, round tanks, each as large as a single dwelling domicile. They were raised high in the air and all connected by pipes which led outward in every direction. Kerov was awed by the vastness of the area. Clearly this system could hold an

immense amount of water. And yet—it was all connected. If one of the enormous tanks became infected with Two’s poison, they would all be infected. “Perov or Kerov or whatever your name is, you can’t stop me!” Two snarled, taking back the control Kerov had fought so hard to get. Kerov struggled to take back the body and felt his weight shift dangerously. For the first time he realized he—or rather Two—was standing on a thin metal ladder attached to the side of a tank that was even larger than the others. It occupied a central place in the room and Kerov thought it must be the main water unit. The ladder was incredibly long but he was only halfway up it—about two or three stories high, he judged. It wasn’t as if he was at the very top of the ladder but it was still farther than he wanted to fall. Gods! Seizing control of half the body at least, he locked one arm around the thin railing of the ladder. He had to be careful here or he would go plummeting to the ground below and likely break both legs and his back as well. “Let go my arm, you idiot,” Two hissed, still using the mouth though Kerov tried not to let him. “I’m almost done! I just need to add a drop of my blood to activate the nanobots!” With mounting horror, Kerov saw that a small hatch was open in the side of the enormous metal water vat. The black satchel the fake Commander Sylvan had shown him earlier was hanging from a rung of the ladder by a strap and the test tubes inside it were empty. In the hand Two was still controlling was a knife with a long, black blade. As Kerov watched, Two attempted to wrestle control of the other hand too. Clearly he was trying to get closer to the opening in the side of the tank. “Don’t let him do it!” A new voice spoke up, startling Kerov so much he jerked and almost lost control of the half of the body he had managed to take over. “Who…what?” he thought at it—how was there a third person inside this body? “I’m Y—the one he stole this body from in the first place,” the voice whispered inside Kerov’s mind. “Direct your thoughts to me and be quiet so he can’t hear us.”

“All right,” Kerov sent back a guarded reply, hoping that his mental voice would go undetected by his unwilling host. “He wants to infect the water supply of the entire Mother Ship,” Y whispered. His voice sounded tired and paper-thin as though he was barely hanging on to his place here in what had used to be his body. “He wants to take over every living soul aboard, the same way he took me over and if he gets even a single drop of his blood into the water he’ll do it.” “I’m not going to let that happen!” Kerov promised grimly. But he was fighting to retain control of the half of the body he had. Two was strong and determined. Inch by inch he moved the arm Kerov had curled around the ladder. He had the knife at the ready, eager to slice. Kerov knew if Two managed to get his hand over the opening in the side of the tank and cut it with the knife, his blood would activate the nanobots and infect the water supply. Then the pipes rushing outward would carry it all over the ship, circulating it to Two’s unsuspecting victims before anyone could stop it. He thought of Commander Sylvan’s words—the substance the Dark Kindred had put into the water would kill twenty percent of the ship. And the rest would lose themselves entirely—becoming puppets for Two to control. He couldn’t let that happen—he had to stop it. But how? Slowly but surely, Two was regaining control of the body they were in. Kerov tried to hold him back but his host’s will was incredibly powerful and he had inhabited the body much longer—Kerov was fighting a losing battle. “You have to kill him,” Y whispered in his mind. “You have to be sure he can never hurt anyone again!” “But if I do that, you’ll die too,” Kerov pointed out. He would die himself as well but he didn’t say that. He didn’t even want to think it. “I’m dead already—or as good as dead,” Y whispered. “I should have taken the chance to get away from him while I could—now it’s too late. I’m permanently bound to him and every moment is pure agony. I want to die. If I can take him with me, so much the better,” he added bitterly. Kerov could feel the hatred in his words, the helpless rage against the one who

had stolen his body and refused to give it back. Death was the only escape for Y but he wanted to take his tormentor to the Seven Hells with him. “What can we do?” he sent urgently. Two was uncurling his arm from around the metal rung of the ladder. Soon it would be too late. “Jump—the ladder’s tall.” “This fall won’t kill him. It might break every bone in his body but it won’t kill him,” Kerov protested. “Not if we jump the right way.” Y sent him a mental picture that made Kerov’s blood run cold. But he knew instinctively that the other male was right—there was no other way. “I don’t know if I have enough strength,” he sent. “He’s very strong and he’s been in this body much longer than I have.” “I’ll help you. I’ve been holding back a reserve, hoping to be able to get control back from my old Master. But I’m too weak for that and even if I could, I don’t think I could survive long in this body. Two has changed it too much—it’s foreign to me now. But I can lend you my strength.” “I thank you, Brother,” Kerov sent formally. “And I accept your offer.” “On three then,” Y whispered and there was a glimmer of strength in his tired voice now. Clearly he’d been waiting for an opportunity like this to take revenge on his captor. Kerov steeled himself and tried to get ready. This was it—the end. How had it come so suddenly upon him? How could he possibly be ready to die? But it was his life or the lives of tens of thousands of innocents. There was no other way. No other choice he could make. Frankie, he thought, caressing her name like a prayer. I wish I could tell you I’m sorry. I wish I could tell you…I love you. Because he did love her—so very much. He realized that now—now that it was too late to do anything about it. Frankie was beautiful and brave and intelligent and everything he had ever wanted in a female…and he would never have her. Goddess, he prayed. If I

cannot have the one I love, then let my death count for something. Let me do what must be done. A sudden peace filled his soul. A feeling of rightness and a certainty that he was doing the right thing. “All is well,” a new voice—a rich, powerful, feminine voice whispered in his head. “Do what is needful, warrior. Your sacrifice will not go unrewarded.” Kerov had a moment to wonder who the voice belonged to but then the presence was gone and he heard Y once more. “One,” Y whispered. Kerov tensed and then, with an effort, let go his hold on the arm he was still trying to control. “Ah-ha!” Two shouted with triumph as he finally managed to get the arm away from the ladder rung. Clearly he thought he was winning the struggle. “Two,” Y sent. “Giving up so soon my friend?” Two asked Kerov mockingly. Slowly but surely he stretched the newly freed hand towards the open hatch of the water tank. In his other fist, the black dagger glittered in the dim light. He was inches from making the cut that would spill his blood into the water supply. “Not quite,” Kerov sent back. “Not giving up quite…yet.” “Three!” Y shouted in his mind and Kerov felt a surge of energy fill him. He burst forward, seizing control of the body—complete control. He wouldn’t be able to hold it for long but that was all right—he only needed a few seconds. As Two screamed in rage, he turned on the ladder and jumped, positioning the body he controlled so that they would land flat on the chest and belly. At the same time, he whipped the hand with the knife around and pressed the tip to the space over his heart. When they landed, the impact would drive the blade deep, piercing the heart and slicing clean through to the other side. “This is the end—Goddess help me!” he thought as the dull silver of the metal

floor rushed up to meet him. “The end for me and for Two perhaps—but it doesn’t have to be for you. Go!” he heard Y whisper. Just as the handle of the knife hit the ground and he felt it begin to penetrate his flesh, there was a huge push. To Kerov it felt like someone standing behind him had shoved him hard in the back. He reeled forward, feeling the first pain of impact as the body he had so lately inhabited hit the ground and the knife sliced deep. Then…nothing.

Twenty-Five

“Is he all right?” Sophie asked anxiously. “I don’t know.” Frankie stroked Kerov’s cheek gently. “He…he’s still quiet, at least.” As the tense minutes ticked away, she was still cradling the big Kindred’s head in her lap, looking down into his slack face. “I was so mad at him, you know,” she whispered, sparing a quick glance up at Sophie and Kate who was kneeling beside her. “Yes, you were telling us but you didn’t tell us exactly why,” Kate pointed out. “Did the, uh, priestess’s suggestion on how to make the two of you Switch back into your right bodies not go as planned?” Frankie gave a broken little laugh. “You could say that. It wasn’t anything like I had imagined.” “What was it like then?” Sophie asked curiously. “You can tell us, Frankie. Maybe we can give you some perspective.” “Okay, well…I guess so.” Frankie sighed. Earlier, when she had been talking to her two new friends, she’d been reluctant to reveal the exact details of her encounter with Kerov. Now the whole idea of embarrassment and privacy and guilt seemed somehow distant…unimportant. Who cared if Kate and Sophie knew what had gone on between her and Kerov if he never came back? If he never… No—can’t think like that. He’s coming back—he has to, she told herself sternly. To take her mind off her morbid thoughts, she started talking. “The priestess said that in order to be Switched back to our own bodies, we had to give each other the ‘Kiss of Intimacy,’” she said. “Do you guys know what that is?” Sophie and Kate exchanged glances. “Um, I’ve never heard it called that but I think we have an idea,” Sophie said in a low voice. “So what went wrong?”

“Well…Kerov went wrong.” Frankie looked down at his stern features. “He, uh, seemed to go a little bit crazy. He tied me up with his belt and he…did things we hadn’t agreed on in the first place.” “What kinds of things?” Kate asked, frowning. “Not—” “No, no,” Frankie said hastily. “I mean, there was, uh, penetration but not with his…you know.” She nodded at Kerov’s crotch. “Okay, but still…” Sophie shook her head. “That’s not the Kindred way. They’re usually such considerate lovers—they’ll do anything to give their females pleasure.” “I didn’t say it didn’t give me pleasure,” Frankie said. “It, uh, sort of gave me too much pleasure, if you know what I mean. Plus it was really scary, being tied down that way.” “I wonder what would make him think that was okay?” Sophie frowned. “And why would he lose control in such a way?” Kate added. “I don’t know much about the Switch Kindred. Are they like the Wulven Kindred at all, do you think?” “I don’t know much about them either,” Sophie itted. “Why?” “Because I know Rone has an actual physical need to, uh, give me the ‘Kiss of Intimacy’ often.” She cast a quick glance at her mate who was sitting apart with Commander Sylvan. The two men were speaking in low voices into comlinks, warning as many people as they could. They didn’t appear to be listening to the girls’ conversation at all. “He does?” Frankie asked with interest. “What happens if he doesn’t?” “The Beast inside him comes out,” Kate said matter-of-factly. “Seriously, I know it sounds strange but it’s a kind of werewolf situation the Wulven kindred have going on. If they don’t, uh, taste their females often enough, they literally lose control.” “Well, Kerov didn’t turn into any kind of a were creature but he certainly did seem to lose control,” Frankie said, frowning. “Afterwards he told me it was

because I looked different from every other female he’d ever been with. Also, he’d never been allowed to, uh, go down on a girl before.” She blushed as she said it and made sure she kept her voice low. “The government of his world won’t allow it—they claim it’s perverted.” “So he’d been repressing his natural Kindred urges for literally years?” Kate raised an eyebrow at her. “Wow—maybe that has something to do with it. Not that I’m saying what he did was okay—it’s not,” she added hastily. “But a Kindred—any Kindred—has the need to taste his female.” “She’s right—it’s built into their DNA or something.” Sophie nodded and then frowned. “He still shouldn’t have tied you up with his belt, though. That was wrong.” “And scary.” Frankie sighed. “You know, the thing is, I think I could have been okay with it if he’d asked first but he just seemed to lose control and go wild.” She shook her head. “Afterwards we both said a lot of things…things I don’t think either one of us meant. And then we parted. I thought I’d never see him again. And now look…” She gestured at Kerov’s still form, his head still pillowed in her lap. “If he…if he only…” She shook her head, unable to go on. “Aw, honey…” Sophie squeezed her hand gently. “I can tell you’re still really confused about what happened between the two of you but are you saying that you wish you could give Kerov another chance?” “I don’t know,” said Frankie sniffing. “I guess so. I’d at least like to talk about what happened and why it happened instead of just leaving and never seeing each other again. Never…never…” Her voice broke again and she had to bite her lip to keep back a sob. Over and over, the warning Kerov’s parents had given them back on his home planet kept echoing in her head. If your host body dies, you die with it. Frankie looked down at him, stroking his cheek, now rough with dark blond stubble since she’d never shaved him the entire time she was in his body. His stern, handsome features were still, making her wonder if he would ever open those intense, pale gray eyes of his and look at her again. Oh Kerov, why did you have to go? she thought desperately, wishing she had a link to him the way the other girls had links to their men. What’s going on with

you? Please, please be careful! I’m sorry we fought. I wish I could take it back— I wish we could talk about it, that I could tell you how much I care…how much I…love you. Wait—did she love him? Frankie thought of all they’d been through together. The crazy things she’d seen and done in his body and the things Kerov had done in hers as well. She hadn’t liked him at first—had felt like he was too dictatorial and overbearing. But… he’d changed during the time of their Switch. And she began to see him for who he really was—brave, loyal, self-sacrificing, protective, handsome…the list went on and on. When she finally itted it to herself, it seemed obvious—somewhere along the way she had fallen for the big Kindred. Oh, she’d tried really hard not to. She’d told herself over and over that she wasn’t his type. That they lived too far apart. That her family would hate him and that he could never care for a girl like her when he had girls like the perfect, skinny Xirnah back home. But somehow, despite all her excuses, she had still fallen hopelessly, helplessly in love with him. I wish I wasn’t in love with him, though—this is awful! What if something happens to him? What if he never comes back? she thought desperately. What if I never get to talk to him again? What if this is the end? As if some dark entity had heard her fear and decided to make it a reality, Kerov suddenly made a choking sound and stopped breathing. “Kerov?” Frankie patted his cheeks anxiously. When his breathing didn’t resume, she slapped him harder…with no result. “Kerov!” she cried. “Come on —breathe!” “What’s wrong?” Sophie asked urgently. “He stopped breathing!” Frankie exclaimed. “I don’t feel a pulse, either,” Kate said grimly, holding up the big Kindred’s wrist. “No pulse…no breathing…crap!” Frankie looked at him frantically.

“Sylvan?” Sophie looked at her husband hopefully. “Unfortunately we don’t have an external heart massage unit here,” he said grimly. “And my arms are still half paralyzed or I would examine Kerov more closely. But time is of the essence now—we’ll have to try and revive him the old fashioned way.” Frankie was already swinging into action. She’d taken a R class recently because it was a requirement to work at the Lotus Pond. Pushing Kerov’s head gently off her lap, she knelt over him and tilted his chin. “I’m going to start with rescue breathing,” she told Sophie. “You and Kate and Rone can take turns with the chest compressions!” “I’ll call for a medic team at once.” Sylvan said. “All you have to do is keep giving him oxygen and keep his blood pumping until they get here.” He began speaking rapidly into the comlink. “Got it.” Sophie was already kneeling over the big Kindred’s prone form and finding the xiphoid—the little nub of bone that stuck off the end of the sternum —clearly she was up on her R as well. “All right.” Frankie filled her lungs, pinched Kerov’s nose closed, sealed her mouth over his and breathed. Kerov’s broad chest rose and fell exactly once…then stopped the moment she ceased breathing into him. “No,” Frankie whispered. “No, no, no!” Quickly, she fit her mouth to his again and breathed once more, filling his lungs again and again and then sitting back to watch anxiously as Sophie, her fingers laced together, pressed in a hard, steady rhythm for the chest compressions. Kerov, Frankie thought frantically as she breathed into him. Kerov, please… please don’t be gone. Don’t be dead! And suddenly she found she was praying. Please, she thought frantically, sending her prayer out, hoping that someone, anyone might hear. Please don’t take Kerov away from me. I believe there is a reason we were brought together…a reason we were Switched. Please don’t take him from me just as I’m finally figuring that out.

All at once, a warm, peaceful presence seemed to envelope her like a comforting blanket. “My child,” murmured a strong yet feminine voice in her ear. “Your prayers have been heard and they shall be answered.” Oh, thank you! Frankie thought frantically. Thank you. Thank you. Thank— Suddenly she found she was staring up at her own face as someone breathed into her mouth. “What the…” she coughed and choked, pushing the person who looked just like her aside. “What are you doing?” “I don’t know.” The girl looked confused. “One meem I was inside of Two and the next I woke up here with my mouth over yours…or mine, I guess.” At last Frankie realized what had happened. “Kerov,” she whispered hopefully. “Is that…is that really you?” “Of course it’s me…or rather, you.” He looked down at himself. “I seem to be in your body again and you’re inside mine.” “I know—we Switched. And you’re back! Isn’t it wonderful?” Frankie sat up and grabbed him, pulling him into a tight hug in her excitement. “The Goddess heard my prayer!” she told him, squeezing him tight. “She heard me and brought you back to me—I’m so glad!” “I…heard her too. But… can’t…can’t breathe. You’re crushing me!” Kerov protested, gasping. “Oh, sorry—I forgot how strong your body is.” Frankie let him go reluctantly but instead of struggling out of her arms, he pressed closer and took her face in his hands. “I thought I’d never see you again,” he said gravely, looking into her eyes. Frankie thought she had never seen her own face look so serious.

“I thought so too,” she confessed. “Oh, Kerov…” “A-hem.” Behind them, Commander Sylvan cleared his throat. “Kerov, I don’t mean to interrupt a tender…if somewhat confusing moment. But we really need to know what happened to Two. Did he succeed in poisoning the water supply?” “I don’t think so,” Kerov said. “He was about to—he had already dumped the contents of the test tubes—nanobots, I think he said—into the main tank. But he said he needed to add a drop of his own blood to activate them. I stopped him from doing that.” “How?” Sophie asked urgently. “And where is he now?” Rone asked darkly. “Dead, I think,” Kerov said. He cleared his throat. “There was another inside his body—one called Y.” “We saw him—that must be Two’s henchman,” Kate exclaimed. “Not anymore—he is his prisoner. Or was his prisoner,” Kerov said grimly. “Two stole his body and altered it to look like Commander Sylvan’s.” “We wondered how Two continued to live even after we found evidence of his death!” Sylvan exclaimed. “I swear the bastard has nine lives like a cat from Earth. What did this Y say?” “That he was dying—that Two had altered the body too much for him to continue to live in it, even if he had been able to get rid of him,” Kerov said. “He…he offered to help me kill Two.” “What?” Frankie exclaimed. “But…but that would kill you also!” “I’m aware of that.” He looked down at his hands. “But there was no choice. Two was incredibly strong and though I tried, I couldn’t get complete control of his body. He was near to infecting the entire water supply. I knew if I didn’t kill him there would be no stopping him.” He looked up at Frankie. “Please understand—it was the only way.” Frankie felt like crying. “So…you were going to sacrifice yourself?” she

demanded. “Kerov, how could you?” “I did what I had to do.” He looked away from her. “But just before I jumped I heard a voice—a woman’s voice—telling me that my sacrifice would be rewarded. It must have been the Goddess.” He looked at Frankie. “Maybe this is what she meant—sending me back to you.” “Maybe…” Frankie was half laughing, half crying. “I just hope it worked,” Kerov continued. “I don’t know though—if his body is dead, it seems that my soul should be dead with it. But at the last moment I felt as though someone pushed me—pushed me out of Two’s body. Maybe it was Y. Anyway, then I wound up back here.” “Hang on a moment.” Sylvan listened intently to the comlink in his hand. “Good —that’s good news. Take the body to the med center and put it under quarantine. Yes—I know it looks like me but it’s not me, Commander Havers. I’ll explain later. Sylvan out.” When he looked up, he was smiling. “So…he’s dead. Two’s really, finally dead?” Sophie asked in a tremulous voice. “It would seem so,” Sylvan said gravely. He looked at Kerov. “Commander Kerov, you have shown exceptional bravery during a time of danger and mortal peril. The Kindred of the Mother Ship owe you a debt we can never repay.” “The best way you can repay me is by letting us visit the Sacred Grove again,” Kerov answered, giving Frankie a sidelong look. “It appears we are in need of advice from a priestess once more.”

“Ah, children—back again, I see. And once more you are Switched into each other’s bodies.” The priestess looked at them gravely but Kerov thought he saw a small twinkle in her green-on-green eyes. They were back in the Sacred Grove, after a night spent apart in two guest suites. It had been Kerov’s idea—he wasn’t sure he could trust himself with Frankie when he wanted her so badly. It seemed like a good idea to take a cooling off period and see if they would Switch back on their own during sleep. They hadn’t, however, and so here they were again, speaking to the same priestess who had seen them before. “Yes, Sister…er…Mother Superior…er…” Frankie cleared her throat. “I’m sorry—I don’t know what we’re supposed to call you.” “Priestess will do nicely,” the priestess said. “But, you have a question, my child?” She looked at Kerov. “Yes, Priestess—how did you know that we were Switched into each other’s bodies when we didn’t say anything about it?” he demanded. “Why because—I see your soul shining in your eyes—or rather, the eyes of your companion. And vice versa,” she explained, as though it was obvious. “At any rate, I perceive that you wish advice on how to Switch back again?” “We do.” Frankie nodded. “Um, should we, uh, just do the same as last time? I mean, the Kiss of Intimacy thing again?” Kerov could see that she was blushing—his skin was fairer than hers and it showed the embarrassed red stain on his cheekbones easily. Gods, he would be glad to get back into his own body again. Although…it wasn’t so bad being in Frankie’s form, he acknowledged. At least he got to touch her again—even though it seemed he was touching himself. “I am sorry, my children, but I do not know if the Kiss of Intimacy will work for you a second time,” the priestess said, looking grave. “I’m afraid something more… intense will be required.” “What are you talking about?” Kerov asked in a low voice. “You don’t mean

bonding sex, do you? Because you know how we feel about that.” He gave a sidelong look at Frankie, hoping she would contradict him but she just returned his look and remained silent. Damn it—he wished he could read her better. But she made his face a mask when she wore it—one he couldn’t decipher no matter how hard he tried. “Yes, I know how you feel about bonding sex,” the priestess said gently. “The question is, do you know how you feel about it?” “I…um…” Frankie cast a furtive glance at him. “Frankie?” he asked, hoping despite himself. She opened her mouth… then quickly shook her head. “Never mind.” Kerov would have given every credit in his on Tarsia to find out what it was she’d started to say and had held back. Could it be that she had learned to care for him too—the way he cared for her? She had been so excited when he returned alive from his Jump into Two, but afterwards she’d seemed quiet and withdrawn. He wondered if she still held a grudge against him for their last encounter and if so, how he could make it right. “So…what do we have to do to Switch back?” Frankie asked, breaking the silence that had fallen between them. “You said something more intimate than before? Because I don’t see how…” She trailed off, blushing again. “Sharing deep pleasure with each other should do the trick,” the priestess said, musingly. “And do not worry, warrior,” she added, looking at Kerov. “Unless you finish within your female and spend your seed inside her, the two of you will not be bonded.” “So you’re saying we have to, uh, have sex but Kerov shouldn’t, um, come inside me?” Frankie’s cheeks were bright red again—or Kerov’s were. He was glad he didn’t blush as often as she did—it was a very obvious mark of shame and embarrassment. “Yes, daughter.” The priestess nodded serenely. “So then…should he wear a condom?” Frankie asked bluntly. “Because it’s been a while and I’m not on birth control right now.”

“No.” The priestess shook her head gracefully. “No, to separate spirit from spirit, you must sink flesh into flesh. Nothing else will do.” “What if Frankie doesn’t wish to make love with me?” Kerov asked harshly. “What if she has reason to dread it?” The priestess turned a stern look on him. “Did you give your female reason to dread or fear you?” she asked and this time there was steel in her voice. “No,” Frankie said quickly before Kerov could answer. “He just…got a little carried away last time. But this time I think we’ll be more prepared. Won’t we, Kerov?” She took his hand and squeezed it, smiling at him. Kerov felt as though a weight had been lifted off his heart. He still didn’t know if he had any chance to win Frankie as his mate, but at least he knew she didn’t hate him. “We will,” he said gratefully. And suddenly, he knew how. He just hoped Frankie would agree with him. “Very well then, go and heal yourselves,” the priestess said. “But…” She held up one long, slim finger in warning. “See that you do not forget yourself, warrior and allow your seed to spill on fertile ground. If this happens, you will be bound together forever and what the Goddess puts together, no male or female can separate. Nothing but death can end it.” Kerov thought Frankie looked a little pale but she just nodded. “We’ll , priestess. Thank you so much.” “May the Goddess go with you and grant you blessing.” The priestess nodded regally as they turned and left the Sacred Grove.

Twenty-Six

“So here we are in the suite again.” Frankie sat carefully on the side of the bed, uncertain how to begin. “Um…back to square one, I guess.” “I suppose.” Kerov wasn’t sitting still—he was pacing in front of the huge bed, radiating nervous energy. Frankie wondered how he felt about this—about what they were supposed to do in order to Switch back this final time. “Do you think we’ll go back to our own bodies the minute we start, um, kissing?” she asked hesitantly. “But the same rules apply? We have to, uh, help each other finish to make it permanent?” “Yes,” Kerov said shortly, still pacing. Being in Frankie’s body, he was wearing the clothing that Liv and Sophie had found for her. He had itted that he’d had a suitcase full of her clothes packed by Lacy but had left it on Earth, in the HKR building. Accordingly, Frankie’s new friends had gone to the trouble of finding something for him to wear while he was in Frankie’s body. They had consulted with Frankie first, who had had the final say, and she had approved the outfit before they gave it to Kerov. It consisted of a nice red dress that came down to mid thigh and red ballet flats to go with it. The dress showed her curves but it was a little tight in the hips and ass area. Still, Frankie had decided it was better than wearing the Sponge Bob pajamas and Hobbit feet slippers. Now, seeing it move on her body as Kerov paced up and down, she thought that it was much more revealing than she’d realized when she gave it to him to put on. The dress had a v-neckline and they hadn’t been able to find her a bra that fit so her breasts were loose under the silky red material. At least she had on panties —that was something, she thought. But otherwise, it almost looked like she was dressed for sex. Which you pretty much are, she reminded herself and then blushed. “Frankie, I have something for you.” Kerov’s voice pulled her out of her embarrassed musings and she looked up to see that he was holding something out to her—a small, square box.

“What’s this?” she asked, bewildered as she took the box from him. “A present?” “No—not exactly. These are for you to use on me once we Switch back to our own bodies.” Frankie opened the box and found a pair of handcuffs. Not the novelty, furry pink handcuffs you’d find in a fake bondage kit bought at a sex-shop, though. These were serious cuffs, made of some thick, bronze metal Frankie had never seen before. They felt cool and heavy and solid in her hands when she took them out of the box. There was also a small bronze key that went with them. From the size of them, it was clear they were made to hold a Kindred, not a human. “What am I supposed to do with these?” she asked, raising an eyebrow at Kerov. “Isn’t it obvious? Put them on me—the minute we Switch back to our own bodies. Chain me to the bed.” “What? Are you serious?” Frankie frowned at him. “Completely serious.” He gave her a level stare. “I don’t want you to fear me, Frankie. I know…” He took a deep breath. “I know that I got out of control last time we were…intimate. I have no excuse and no way to make it up to you, but I don’t want you to be afraid it will happen again.” “Kerov, I know it won’t happen again,” she said softly. “Because I know you won’t let it happen again.” “I still prefer for you to cuff me,” he said stubbornly. “For my peace of mind as well as for yours. There’s something about you, Frankie. You’re so different from any other female I’ve ever been with…so fucking gorgeous.” He gave her a burning look. “I don’t want to have to fear I’ll lose control.” Frankie felt a little spark of pleasure and desire start in the pit of her belly. She still wasn’t sure exactly where they stood, but at least she knew Kerov still desired her. The thought made her feel hot…and adventurous. “Well…if that’s really how you want it,” she murmured, smiling at him. He nodded gravely. “It is. And I don’t want you to fear that I might snap and… bond you to me either.”

“You mean…finish, uh, inside me, right?” Frankie felt her cheeks heating again. “That would put us together permanently, wouldn’t it?” “It would,” he said quietly. “Oh.” Frankie bit her lip, wishing she could tell him how she really felt. That she wanted to be bound to him—that she loved him. But how could she bring that up right now when they were trying to make love without becoming bonded? It would be so awkward—especially if Kerov didn’t return her feelings. “Frankie…” he murmured. “Yes?” She looked at him, her heart beating so hard it felt like it might bruise her ribs. Their gazes held and locked for a long moment, then he looked away. “I just want you to feel safe with me,” he said in a low voice. “Safe and cared for.” “Thank you. That’s…very sweet and considerate of you.” “It’s a safety measure,” he said evenly. “I don’t know what I might do when I get the chance to caress your luscious body again. I want you so badly I can barely breathe, Frankie.” “Kerov!” She couldn’t help the breathlessness in her voice or the blush on her cheeks. “Forgive me.” He shrugged. “It’s just how I feel.” “I…I feel the same way. For you,” she itted. Taking a deep breath, she rose from the side of the bed and went to settle herself in the middle instead, with her back to the headboard. Kerov frowned. “What are you doing?” “Getting into position.” Frankie nodded at the elaborately scrolled metal headboard behind her. “Once we Switch back to our own bodies, there are plenty of places to hook these.” She handed the cuffs back and gave him a slow smile. “Come on—straddle me and let’s get started.”

“As you wish.” He came to straddle her hips, the short red dress riding up Frankie’s thighs as he did. Frankie thought she could catch a glimpse of the lacey underwear under it and wondered how she would feel once they were back in their correct bodies and she knew he would have the same view. Only one way to find out, she told herself. Looking up at Kerov she murmured, “Kiss me.” “With pleasure,” he said softly and leaned forward so that their lips met. The moment their mouths made , Frankie felt a dizzy rush and she was suddenly back in her own body again. She was sitting in Kerov’s lap, her thighs spread wide to straddle him and looking into those piercing gray eyes of his. “Oh!” She pulled back, breaking the kiss, but stayed in her correct body. “All right,” he growled softly. “Now chain me, Frankie. And don’t let me go until it’s over.”

Kerov tried to still the pounding of his heart as she straddled him and cuffed his wrists to the metal struts of the headboard. Gods, she was beautiful! With her long, dark hair falling around her flushed cheeks and her deep brown eyes looking uncertainly into his, he thought she was the loveliest, most desirable female he’d ever seen. Not to mention the way her lush, curvy body pressed against his as she leaned forward to chain him. “Mmm,” he growled softly as her soft breasts brushed against his face. She smelled so good—a light, floral fragrance that was devastatingly feminine. And under it, the warm female scent of her sex which set him on fire. “Mmm, yourself.” After making sure the cuffs were securely in place, Frankie sat back to study him. “You look good chained up—but I should have had you take your clothes off first.” Kerov shrugged, the cuffs rattling with his movement. “I’m yours to do with as you wish,” he murmured. “Undress me if you like, Frankie.” “I think I’ll take you up on that.” Smiling a little, she leaned forward and started unbuttoning the pale blue uniform shirt he wore. She opened it to reveal his chest and then ran her hands up and down his abdomen and torso. Kerov shivered under her light, teasing touch. “Gods,” he whispered hoarsely. “Your soft little hands feel so damn good on me.” “I like yours on me too,” she said, smiling. “But it looks like I’m in charge this time.” “It does,” he murmured, smiling back. “Good—then I’m going to do what I want.” With a look that was half teasing, half serious, she moved lower and began unfastening his tros.

Kerov had already been at half mast, just from having her so close and breathing in her sweet scent. Now he felt his cock grow almost painfully hard as she took her time freeing it from the confines of his tros. “Frankie…” he groaned as she slipped one soft, cool hand inside the fabric to stroke his aching shaft. “Hmm, what do we have here?” she murmured, giving him a little half smile. “It seems to me that someone has a problem…a very hard problem.” Kerov bit his tongue to stifle a groan. Gods, she was killing him here! When he’d first procured these cuffs from Commander Sylvan, he had done it solely with the idea that he wanted Frankie to feel safe and secure with him. He’d never dreamed that the cuffs could have erotic value as well. But now, cuffed and helpless as she did what she wanted with him, he had to it it was fucking sexy to be open and helpless to her touch. Sexy and a little scary at the same time. “Mmm, here we are,” she murmured and he felt her slim fingers wrap around his shaft and pull it out in the open. “Now as I recall, last time I was having a little fun and doing this…” She scooted back and leaned down to place a hot, openmouth kiss on the head of his cock. “When I was rudely interrupted.” “Frankie…Gods,” he moaned as she began to lap and twirl her hot tongue around his throbbing shaft. The erotic sight of her sucking him was almost too much to bear. He tensed his arms, feeling the metal strut he was cuffed to bend just a tiny bit. “Mmm…” Frankie looked up, giving him a naughty smile as she teased him more, lapping and sucking at his cock until he thought he would explode. Then she did something that caught him completely off guard. Her slim little hand slipped back into his tros and slid down between his thighs. Kerov gasped and stiffened when he felt her fingertips tickling his balls and then sliding lower to pry gently between his cheeks. “Frankie?” he whispered uncertainly. “Open up, lover boy,” she murmured. “Let’s see how you like a taste of your

own medicine.” “I…but I…” “Do it. You said you were sorry for what happened between us last time, right? And that you didn’t know how to make it up to me?” “Yes, of course.” He looked at her earnestly. “Well, then…this is it. Open for me, the way you made me open for you.” Frankie’s look was playful but there was steel in her brown eyes. Kerov realized she was absolutely serious about this—she was going to treat him in the way he had treated her the last time they were together. For a moment he didn’t think he could do it—didn’t think he could open to her and let her explore such an intimate, forbidden area. But this is how she felt, he reminded himself. And you gave her no choice. At least she’s giving you a warning—it’s only fair. “All…all right,” he muttered at last. “I…I’ll open to you.” “Good.” She bit her lip and watched him with lazy eyes as he slowly spread his thighs. Then her cool fingers slipped inward and began to trace his tightly clenched nether entrance. “How does that feel?” she murmured, watching him intently as she caressed him. “Do you like it?” “I…I don’t know,” Kerov muttered although to tell the truth, her light touch was driving him insane. “It…it’s not something that would be permitted on my home world. It would have been declared deviant…wrong.” “But it feels good, right?” She cocked an eyebrow at him. “Well?” Kerov gritted his teeth, unwilling to it it. But the look in her eyes demanded the truth. “Yes,” he itted at last. “Yes, it…it feels good.” “It’s about to feel even better, baby.” She withdrew her hand and tugged at his tros until they were down to his knees.

“Wait!” Kerov protested. “What are you doing?” “You’ll see.” She was looking into the drawer of the small stand by the side of the sleeping platform. “Where is it? I know I put it in here somewhere. Ah-ha!” She pulled out a small bottle of pink oil or gel—Kerov couldn’t tell which. “What is that?” he asked apprehensively. “Warming massage oil.” Frankie gave him that lazy grin again. “It’s going to help me get just a little deeper, okay?” “How much deeper?” Kerov demanded as she drizzled some of the pink, sweet smelling oil onto her fingertips. “You’ll see.” She cocked an eyebrow at him again. “Well? Are you going to open up for me or not?” Kerov had another struggle with himself. Gods, when he’d insisted that she chain him to the bed he’d never considered a scenario like this. And yet, as strange and somewhat frightening as it was, he didn’t want Frankie to stop. He wanted her to take what she wanted—what she needed from him. This was a payback he fully deserved and he knew it. “All right,” he growled at last, forcing himself to bend his knees and spread his thighs for her. “Do it—do whatever you want with me.” “Dios mio it’s sexy to hear you talk like that.” Frankie gave him that naughty, mischievous smile again that seemed to make his cock surge despite what she was about to do to him. She reached between his legs and Kerov tried hard not to flinch as her fingertips found his ass and began to penetrate him. I deserve this, he reminded himself as one slim finger found its way inside and began to caress and stroke and probe. I…I… “Gods!” he gasped. “Are you okay?” Frankie stopped for a moment, looking at him uncertainly and he realized that he’d shouted the last word aloud. But he couldn’t help it— somehow she had found a spot inside him that gave immediate, intense pleasure

when she touched him there. “I…you…it feels…” Kerov could hardly get out the words. “Incredible,” he murmured at last. “What—this?” She rubbed over the spot again and he nearly jumped off the sleeping platform as his back arched helplessly. “Gods, Frankie!” “Mmm-hmm.” She gave him a satisfied little grin. “Feels good, right? Good and scary and a little dirty and you’re not sure what to do because the person doing it to you won’t stop.” She rubbed him again and Kerov thought if she didn’t stop he was surely going to come. “Please,” he gasped. “Gods, please…you’re pushing me…pushing me over the edge, Frankie!” “Exactly. The way you pushed me.” She rubbed him again, a slow, deliberate massage that made him moan and writhe on the bed some more. “That’s all right, baby—we’ve got plenty of time. You can come.” Kerov wasn’t sure if he wanted to come this way—but it didn’t seem that he had much choice. Her finger was rubbing against that sensitive spot inside him— rubbing over and over until he felt like he couldn’t breathe. His cock was rock hard, a river of precum slicking the head and running down his shaft. Every muscle in his body was tight and he could feel the metal of the headboard bending more and more as he tugged helplessly against the cuffs. If I wanted to I could probably snap it. Snap it and stop her now. But somehow he didn’t want to. Didn’t want this last sexual experience with Frankie to end so abruptly. And besides, what she was doing felt amazing even if it was frightening and strange. “All right,” he whispered in a low, strained voice. “All right…make me come.” “With pleasure,” Frankie murmured. She rubbed again, harder this time and Kerov gasped as he felt a bolt of pure pleasure shoot through him.

“Frankie,” he groaned. “Ah, Gods, Frankie!” His cock erupted, spurting jet after jet of hot cum across his flat belly and all the while he could feel her still working him, massaging while he shook and quaked and gave himself up for her completely. Somewhere, someone was groaning hoarsely. Someone was begging in a deep, harsh voice—someone who couldn’t be silent while the pleasure went on and on. It’s me—I’m making those sounds, Kerov realized, and yet he seemed helpless to stop. In fact, he didn’t stop coming until Frankie finally withdrew, ending the intense pleasure and leaving him panting on the bed. “Ah, Gods…” Kerov leaned his head back against the bent metal headboard and tried to breathe, drawing deep, gasping breaths into his lungs. His eyes closed tight, he tried to collect himself. Gods, what had she done to him? She’d decimated him—torn him down to the ground. And he loved her for it. “Frankie?” he whispered when he could catch his breath. “Just a minute.” Her voice sounded like it was coming from another room. Opening his eyes, he saw her coming back from the fresher, a steaming washcloth in one hand. “What are you doing?” he asked as she began to stroke the warm, wet cloth over his belly. “Cleaning up. You come a lot,” she murmured. “Is it always like that?” “Our bodies want to bond a female to us,” Kerov answered matter-of-factly. “The right, female, anyway.” “What about with Xirnah? Did you…?” “She was not the right female for me,” he murmured. “I knew it and my body did as well—a Kindred has an unerring sense about these things. Our encounters were never very…productive.”

“But for the right female you’d make more?” He nodded. “Much more. When trying to bond a desired female to him, a Kindred’s body produces a lot of seed. That’s because the more of our seed we fill her with, the stronger the bond will be if it forms.” “Good thing you used up your supply then.” She gave him a small smile. “I mean, not that I’m your desired female or anything…” “But I do desire you,” Kerov murmured, looking into her eyes. “Very much, Frankie.” “Oh, I…” She blushed and looked down. “I guess it doesn’t matter anyway since when we make love you’re going to, you know, pull out.” “If I was intent on bonding you to me I would make even more seed than I’ve spilled just now,” he told her, giving her a direct look. “My body would realize my intention and make enough to fill you to overflowing and bond you to me forever.” “Oh…” Frankie put a hand to her chest and her brown eyes grew wide. “Really?” “Really.” Kerov rattled the chain of the handcuffs against the headboard. “Now let me go—I’ve paid my debt and it’s my turn to pleasure you.”

Seeing the hungry look in his piercing pale grey eyes, Frankie wasn’t so sure that letting the big Kindred go was a smart move. Giving him a taste of his own medicine had seemed like a good idea at the time and so had making him come. She had been certain an orgasm would take the edge off his desire. After all, it had always been that way with Carlos. Not that she’d ever touched her ex the way she had just touched Kerov—she wasn’t sure where she’d gotten the nerve to do that. But it was true that as soon as Carlos came, he was out like a light. If Frankie hadn’t managed to come before him, she was on her own to finish up. But Kerov didn’t look like he was going to fall asleep any time soon. In fact, he looked more alert than ever. Even more surprising—and a little frightening as far as Frankie was concerned—was the fact that his shaft hadn’t gone down a bit. Despite the intense orgasm he’d had and all the cum he’d made, his cock was still standing tall and hard, the broad head brushing the planes of his muscular abdomen when he moved. Suddenly she wondered if she ought to have taken her revenge quite so far. Maybe it had been a bad idea…although it had seemed perfect at the time. Should she really uncuff him now? Kerov seemed to sense what direction her thoughts were taking because he gave her a knowing look and a soft growl rose in his throat. “Come on, Frankie—it’s my turn and you know it.” He rattled the chain of his cuffs again and Frankie saw, to her dismay, that the metal rod she’d cuffed him to was bent nearly in half. Madre de Dios—even if I don’t let him go, he’ll get free. He’s about to snap that headboard in half! “All right,” she whispered, reaching for the key, which she’d put on the night table. “But just —we’re even now, okay?” “We’ll see about that.” The minute she unlocked his cuffs, Kerov was out of them and had her in his

arms. Frankie gasped with fright. But he only pulled her close so that she was straddling him again, and kissed her, long and searchingly on the mouth. Slowly, she let herself sink into the kiss. God, he was a good kisser—especially considering he’d never had any practice since it was outlawed on Tarsia. His arms around her felt like warm, flexible steel but she wasn’t afraid any more. Despite the hunger in his kiss, he was controlled as he hadn’t been the last time they’d been together. “Gods, you’re beautiful,” he muttered, breaking the kiss at last. “And you never stop surprising me.” “That’s me—surprising all over. I…oh!” Frankie gasped because his big, warm hands had slid under her dress to cup her ass. “Kerov!” she protested, her heart pounding as his long fingers found their way inside her lacy panties and grabbed a double handful of her behind. “Forgive me—I just love this part of you.” He kneaded her gently and she could feel his bare shaft throbbing between them, branding her belly through her dress. “Your ass is so gorgeous—so full and ripe.” Frankie bit her lip, not sure if she should gasp and protest again…or just let him hold her. “Kerov…” she began hesitantly. “Can I taste you again, Frankie?” he asked bluntly, the hunger in his gray eyes unmistakable. “I want to lick you everywhere. I swear I’ll be gentle.” “Everywhere?” Frankie asked softly. “I mean…” “Yes. Everywhere.” His eyes gleamed with hunger. “Unless you don’t want me to.” “I…” She ed the feeling of his tongue entering her…the frightening, exciting, scary feeling of being penetrated. Did she want that again? Did she trust him that much? Yes, whispered a little voice in her head. Dios, yes, so much! “All right,” she whispered at last. “All right. As long as you’re gentle and you don’t tie me down.”

“I will never do that again unless we discuss it beforehand and you agree to it,” he promised gravely. “Will you trust me to keep my word?” “Yes…” Tentatively, Frankie reached up to stroke her fingers through his short, thick hair. “Yes, I…I trust you.” “Good,” he murmured. Then he rolled her over on her back and kissed her slowly and thoroughly once more. Frankie moaned as he cupped her breasts through the thin red silk of her dress, circling her nipples until they stood up in hard points behind the fabric. “Gods, you’re gorgeous,” he murmured as he pulled her to the end of the bed so that her calves hung over the edge. He knelt at her feet and looked up at her, his eyes hot as coals. “I could worship you with my tongue for hours.” Before she could answer, he was pushing up her skirt and pulling down her panties, baring her in a way that made Frankie blush and tremble and bite her lip. She expected him to dive in at once, spreading her thighs to lick and suck her everywhere. Instead, Kerov pressed the side of his face to her smooth mound, inhaling deeply as though he couldn’t get enough of her scent. “Kerov?” she whispered, making his name a question. “Gods, you smell so damn good,” he groaned softly, rubbing against her again like a cat marking its territory. “I just want to kiss and taste you all over.” “You’re making a pretty…pretty good start,” Frankie whispered breathlessly as he began kissing her outer pussy lips. His kisses were gentle but so urgent she couldn’t help but be moved. Clearly he wanted her badly but didn’t want to scare her again. He was kissing her the same way he had kissed her mouth, going down on her so tenderly it made her want to open to him even more. This was how she had imaged her first time letting a man go down on her, she couldn’t help thinking. This soft, gentle touching…the sweet kisses, the tender urgency that made her want to open for him…to give him everything. Madred de Dios, it felt amazing. And Kerov was only getting started. His long, restless fingers stroking and kneading her inner thighs seemed to build

her desire even more. Before she knew it, Frankie felt the tension leaving her body as her legs drifted further apart, allowing him more complete access. “Gods…so sweet…so soft,” he murmured, spreading her pussy lips gently with his thumbs to reveal her inner folds. “Oh! Dios,” Frankie gasped as he leaned forward to kiss her clit. He was gentle this time—much more so than he had been their first time together. Tenderly, he sucked her little pearl between his lips and bathed it with his tongue, tracing lightly around and around until she thought she would go insane. “Kerov,” she whispered, reaching down to slide her fingers into his thick, dark blond hair. “Oh, Dios that’s good.” “Is that how you like it, shalla? Is that how you like to be tasted?” he murmured, looking up at her. “Yes…” Frankie tugged restlessly at his hair. “Dios, yes…only more.” His eyes were half-lidded with lust as he looked at her. “I’ll give you more if you’ll open wider for me.” Frankie felt as though a thousand butterflies had suddenly taken flight inside her stomach. Should she do it? “Yes,” she heard herself whispering. “Yes, all right. Do it.” With a low, hungry growl, Kerov spread her completely, raising and opening her thighs until both her rosebud and pussy were completely exposed. Then he began to lick her, starting at the very bottom of her tight little hole and sliding his tongue all the way up to the top of her pussy slit. “Ah…ah, Madre de Dios!” Frankie nearly wailed as his tongue caressed her. She had never felt so open, so vulnerable and yet so eager for any man before. And she had never felt such pleasure—Kerov seemed to know exactly how to lick and taste her to make her crazy. She trembled under his tongue as he brought her closer and closer to the edge, knowing she was about to come but this time eager for the pleasure he was giving her.

And then Kerov pressed lightly with just the tip of one long finger against her rosebud. At the same time, he sucked her clit into his mouth again and began to lash her mercilessly with his tongue. As he entered her very gently, Frankie felt the pleasure breaking over her like a wave—like an unstoppable force that couldn’t be denied or refuted. She cried aloud, her fingers tightening in his thick hair as her hips thrust helplessly up to meet him. Dios, he was so good at this—so good and she never wanted it to end…wanted it to go on and on… Kerov stayed with her as she bucked against him but finally, when her tremors died down, he looked up at her. His mouth was wet with her honey, his eyes blazing. “Frankie,” he growled. “I need to be in you—now.” “Yes—Dios, yes!” she moaned, opening her arms to him. Kerov climbed onto the bed with her and rolled her over so that suddenly she was straddling him again. Frankie moaned again as she felt his long, hard shaft rubbing between her swollen pussy lips. Madre de Dios, she needed him in her so badly! It was as though the orgasm he’d given her had only fanned the flames of her desire, making her want the big Kindred inside her that much more. “Please,” she whispered, reaching between them to find him and rub the broad head of his cock against her wet, aching pussy. “Please, baby, I need you in me so bad.” “Take off your dress,” he muttered hoarsely as she rubbed against him. “I want to see all of you—want to see you completely naked while you ride my shaft.” With a moan, she did as he said, stripping the dress off over her head and letting it fall in a tangled heap on the floor. Kerov groaned when he saw her naked above him. “Gods, shalla, so fucking gorgeous,” he growled. “It almost hurts to look at you but I can’t turn away. Your body is a work of art—I love it.” Frankie thought hazily that he was the work of art. His muscular arms and

shoulders—the way his abs bunched and flexed as she mounted him. Dios, he was a pretty man! And she wanted him inside her so damn badly she felt like she would scream if she didn’t get him there. Earlier, when she’d first seen his shaft, she’d been worried about his size. But when the broad head of his shaft finally found the mouth of her pussy, she felt him slip inside her with no problem. It was a tight fit—that was true. But it was a good kind of tightness—a feeling of stretching as he slid slowly inside her, his eyes holding hers the whole time. “So beautiful, shalla,” he murmured, giving her the sweet nickname in his own language. “So beautiful taking all of my cock into your sweet, wet pussy.” “You feel good inside me,” Frankie whispered. “So right. Ah—Dios! I think… think you’re all the way in now.” “I know I am. Gods, you fit me like a glove,” he groaned softly as he thrust gently into her, the head of his cock nudging the end of her channel. “So tight… so tight and wet and perfect. And so hot.” “That’s right…” Frankie laughed a little breathlessly. “You…you’ve never been with a girl with the right body temperature before, have you?” “I’ve never been with the right girl—the right female—before,” he said seriously, looking up at her. “But I am now. Frankie, you feel so good around me.” “Kerov,” she whispered and began to ride him. He let her set the pace at first, holding still to watch as she slid shamelessly up and down, filling herself with his shaft, loving the way it looked sliding in and out of her so wet and slick with her honey. Then Kerov gripped her hips and began to move. Long, slow, deep thrusts that hit the end of her channel with every stroke, making her moan, making her want to open even wider, to take more, to take it all. Frankie didn’t know how long they rode each other. It seemed like forever, feeling the man beneath her fill her as he looked into her eyes, gazing at her as though she was the only woman in the universe for him.

Just like he’s the only man in the universe for me. Oh, Kerov… “Frankie,” he murmured, his hands making a long, slow caress along her bare back as his shaft stroked inside. “I feel…I think I’m getting close. But I want to give you pleasure before I pull out.” “You are giving me pleasure. And I’m getting close again too,” Frankie promised him. “But, Kerov…” “Yes…” His eyes were half-lidded but his gaze was intense as he stared up at her, riding his shaft. Without letting herself think about it too much, she blurted it out recklessly. “I…I don’t want you to pull out,” she told him. “I want you to stay inside me— stay with me. I want you to bond me to you.” There—she’d said it. “Really?” He stopped moving inside her and his eyes went wide. “Did I hear you correctly? Did you really just say that you wanted me to bond you to me?” “Yes.” Frankie looked away, waiting for the worst. What would he think of her now? Would he want to stop right now and walk away and never see her again? Would he… “Frankie—look at me.” Kerov’s big hand came up to cup her cheek and tilt her face towards his. Reluctantly, Frankie allowed herself to look into his eyes. “I’m sorry,” she said quickly. “I shouldn’t have said it. I didn’t mean to freak you out. I—” “No, shalla, don’t,” he murmured. “Don’t take back your words.” He sat up suddenly, shifting their positions somewhat but staying firmly lodged inside her. Frankie gasped as strong arms enfolded her, pulling her even closer in an intimate embrace. He began to move again—long, slow, purposeful strokes that made her moan and spread her thighs wider to get the full effect of his shaft deep inside her. She braced her hands on his broad shoulders and felt her pleasure building once more. Only this time it was deeper—even more intense. Dios, she thought

helplessly. Oh, Dios, I’m going to come so hard… And then she heard Kerov whisper hoarsely in her ear, “Frankie, I need to fill you. Fill you with my seed…” “Yes,” she whispered breathlessly. “Yes, do it!” Her answer was the feeling of something hot and wet deep inside her—a warm liquid sensation that seemed to fill her to overflowing. Coming in me—he’s coming in me and bonding me to him, she thought. The knowledge as well as the deep pleasure of feeling him fill her so completely and intimately triggered her orgasm as well. With a moan, Frankie felt herself coming, her inner muscles milking the shaft in her as though she was trying to get every last drop of his seed deep inside. As though she never wanted the bonding to end. Then she felt the sensations shift—suddenly she was in Kerov’s body and he was in hers. She felt his shaft, hard and aching, pouring into her, spurting deep so that his seed bathed the mouth of her womb, making her his, claiming her forever. They Switched again and she was back in her own body, moaning in pleasure as she felt him fill her. Dios, it was amazing—like nothing she’d ever experienced before. Frankie wished it could last forever. The pleasure did, indeed, seem to go on and on, swirling like a warm golden sea all around them, binding them together in a way Frankie had never known was possible. She snuggled close to Kerov, pressing her cheek to his and moaning breathlessly as their shared orgasm overtook her completely. Finally the intense sensations began to ebb and Frankie found herself able to talk again. “Kerov,” she whispered, dropping her forehead to his broad shoulder. “Kerov, I love you—so much!” And then, inside her head she heard his familiar mental voice. “I love you too, Frankie. I always will. And we’ll never be apart again.”

Later, Frankie lay snuggled against his broad chest, feeling more happy and content than she could ever . The slow, steady thump-thump of the big Kindred’s heart in her ear soothed her. He was stroking her hair gently, caressing the long curly strands as they lay over her bare shoulders, as though he couldn’t bear to stop touching her. “So what made you change your mind?” she murmured, tracing a pattern on his broad chest with one fingertip. “About me, I mean. I thought Xirnah or somebody like her was your ideal—not someone like me.” “She’s the Tarsian ideal, certainly. Not mine, though.” Kerov kissed the top of her head. “I don’t think I knew what my ideal was until I met you.” “So…” Frankie looked up at him, trying not to laugh. “I guess maybe you’re an ass man and you just didn’t know it.” He frowned. “An ‘ass’ man?” “You know—like some men are into legs and some like breasts…some men like girls with big butts.” “I guess I am.” His big hands came down to cup and caress her ass again. “I don’t know how I lived so long without a female with such generous attributes.” He frowned. “But what made you change your mind about me? I thought you disliked all Kindred—at least, that was what your friend Lacy told me.” “Oh, Lacy…” Frankie sighed. “She’s going to be shocked about this when I tell her, you know. It’s true I told her I didn’t want to be with a Kindred but that was because I thought all of you guys were so big and scary. Also, my abuela is not going to like this.” “Especially if she finds out I’m the one who threw up her old clothes and kicked Carlos in his ‘babymakers,’” Kerov said thoughtfully, making Frankie snort with laughter. “At least we know your parents are going to be happy—at least I hope they will,” she said, looking up at him anxiously.

“They will—they’ll be overjoyed I’ve found my true mate,” Kerov assured her, kissing the crown of her head again. “Well, you and I are happy and that’s what matters. Only…” Frankie bit her lip, uncertain how to broach the subject. Kerov seemed to sense her apprehension. “What, shalla?” He stroked a lock of hair tenderly out of her face. “What is it? What’s troubling you?” “Well, it’s just that…we never really got a chance to talk about what happened between us before. I mean the first time we, you know…” “When I lost control, you mean?” he asked soberly. “I can never beg your forgiveness for that enough. What I did was inexcusable. I should have stopped when you asked me to.” “Yes, you should have,” Frankie said candidly. “But I can kind of understand that—according to Sophie and Kate, all Kindred males have a driving need to taste their females and you never had before—so you probably had a lot of, uh, pent up tension.” She blushed a little but pressed on. “But the thing with the belt…I don’t understand why you decided to, uh, tie me down.” “Oh, as to that…” Kerov cleared his throat and his cheeks went a dull red. “I guess I got the idea from something an Earth female told me.” “What? Was someone talking to you about bondage and domination while you were in my body?” Frankie exclaimed. “Who was it? Lacy?” “No, it was an older female,” Kerov said. “She came near the end of my shift at the Secret of Victoria. She brought her mate with her and followed me around, telling me all about the different sexual practices they tried together.” “What?” It finally clicked into place for Frankie. “Mrs. Hofstadter?” she exclaimed. “You took sex advice from Mrs. Hofstadter?” He shrugged uncomfortably. “It wasn’t like I asked…she just wouldn’t stop talking about it. And after the way you had told me your society was so much more sexually permissive than mine, I thought binding your partner during sex

was a generally established practice.” “Madre de Dios!” Frankie couldn’t stop laughing. “So I have Mrs. Hofstadter to thank for that craziness with the belt.” “I’m truly sorry I frightened you,” Kerov said sincerely. “I will never do it again. Although…” He shifted a little. “I do not mind if you wish to do it to me.” “Oh really?” Frankie’s eyebrows shot up. “You mean you liked that—being handcuffed to the bed, I mean? I thought you were just enduring it to make things up to me.” I was, at first,” he itted. “But then it became very erotic to find myself helpless in your hands.” He shook his head. “I never thought I would feel that way, that I would want to be helpless with anyone. But with you…” He stroked Frankie’s cheek. “Everything is different somehow.” She smiled. “I know what you mean. Everything is Switched.” Kerov smiled. “That’s a good way to put it. Yes, everything is Switched with us. Maybe I’m willing to be helpless with you because I spent time in your small, soft body, growing to understand how you live and feel as a female.” “And maybe I’m more willing to be assertive in bed because I got to spend time as a big, tough warrior.” Frankie grinned at him. She had a feeling they were going to have a lot of fun in the future. One thing was for certain—they were never going to be bored! There was one thing that still bothered her, though. “What is it?” she heard Kerov ask, through their link. “What’s wrong, shalla?” “Well…” Frankie bit her lip. “I know we should have thought about this before we, uh, decided to bond. But…where are we going to live? I don’t think I’d fit in very well on your planet. I don’t look anything like the women there.” “I agree,” he said seriously. “Which is why I don’t intend to go back to Tarsia.” “You don’t? Oh, but I don’t want you giving everything up just for me,” Frankie protested. He shook his head. “There’s nothing for me there now. My military career is

basically over. I’ll miss my parents and Jorn but we can visit them. Although a visit with him might be somewhat, uh, uncomfortable.” “That’s my fault—I shouldn’t have kissed him while I was in your body,” Frankie said contritely. “I’m sorry, Kerov.” “No, it’s all right. We both did things that made each other’s lives difficult.” “So…where are we going to live?” Frankie asked, getting back to the topic that worried her. “Commander Sylvan has offered me a place with the Kindred here,” Kerov told her. “He said I could choose either an appointment on the ship or planetary duty on Earth.” “Oh—and which did you choose?” Frankie asked. He shook his head, smiling. “I haven’t yet—I’ll leave it up to you. Anywhere you are I’ll be happy, so you choose, shalla.” “Really? Oh, Kerov…” Snuggling closer, she sighed contentedly and wrapped her arms more firmly around his muscular torso. “I love you.” “I love you too, Frankie,” he sent through their new bond. “And you don’t have to decide now—we have some time to think about it. All the time we need.” “All the time we need,” Frankie repeated dreamily and yawned. Letting her eyes drift closed, she thought about how good it was to finally be with the man she loved. There were problems ahead of them—her family was not going to like this and neither was Lacy. But as long as she and Kerov had each other, she knew everything would work out all right in the end. Soothed by the feeling of his large, warm hands stroking her hair, Frankie fell into a deep, contented sleep.

Twenty-Seven

“So you’re really and truly bonded?” Sophie’s eyes were bright and happy as she smiled at Frankie. “Sure are. And engaged.” Frankie grinned and held out her hand, showing a ridiculously large diamond ring. “Wow! Where did you get that?” Kate’s eyes were huge as she examined the rock. “Not from anyplace on Earth, I’ll bet.” “Nope. Apparently diamonds are pretty common on Tarsia. Kerov had his mother send him one and a jeweler aboard the ship set it for me.” Frankie smiled down affectionately at the ring. “Of course, it’s not like I’m a gold digger or anything,” she hastened to explain. “But, well, seeing a ring on my finger is going to go a long way to convincing my family I’m serious about this. And hopefully making them feel better about it.” “You’re worried about their reaction?” Liv raised an eyebrow at her. “Well, they’re pretty strict Catholics and they’re not going to like it that Kerov is white and protestant. Or whatever it is you call the Kindred religion.” “Well they worship the Goddess—the Mother of All Life,” Sophie said thoughtfully. “It’s a very female centric religion but I don’t know if it has a name.” “Basically they’re just really into pleasing and protecting their women.” Kate smiled. Liv snapped her fingers. “You know who we should introduce Frankie to? Becca. She was actually about to become a nun when she met her guys, Truth and Far.” “She’s bonded to Twin Kindred,” Sophie explained. “Try explaining that you’re going to be married to not one but two big, hot alien men to your super religious parents who were all set to have a nun for a daughter.” “Yup, that’s a tough one,” Liv said. “But Becca managed—maybe she can give you some pointers.”

“I’d love to meet her,” Frankie said. “But right now I have a date with my best friend, Lacy.” She sighed. “I have to get her to understand about Kerov—she really doesn’t like him because she thinks he’s some kind of a body snatcher. And she also thinks he screwed up my life—which he sort of did but I messed up his pretty badly too. Lacy’s not as forgiving as me though.” “Is she seeing anybody?” Liv asked. Frankie shook her head. “Well, no. She kind of has this crush on a doctor at work but so far he doesn’t seem to know she’s alive.” “Then bring her up to the Mother Ship,” Liv advised. “Take her for a drink in a restaurant near the Unmated Males area and see what develops.” “Don’t actually go in to the Unmated Males area, though,” Sophie warned quickly. “Yeah, that can get kind of, uh, hairy if you’re not careful,” Liv acknowledged. “But just give her a chance to get to know Kindred culture…maybe meet a few Kindred first hand.” “It’s hard to hate them once you get to know them,” Kate added, smiling at Frankie. “I think that’s something we all know from personal experience.” “So…it’s okay to bring her up here?” Frankie asked. “I mean, I thought they were really cracking down on security measures around here.” “They are,” Sophie said. “But you have a Kindred mate—that puts you pretty much above suspicion. If you have any trouble, just call me and I’ll get Sylvan to talk to the guards at the HKR building.” “Oh, I don’t want you to bother him on my ,” Frankie protested. “Isn’t he still recovering?” “Already recovered…” Sophie’s pretty green eyes grew shadowed. “Physically at least. Mentally…well, it might take a little longer. Of course, what Two did to him wasn’t nearly as bad as what he did to Commander Terex.” “Oh, yes—poor Terex!” Liv looked sad. “Sylvan says he’s in a bad way.”

“Well, he’s really had it tough,” Sophie acknowledged. “I mean first he lost his mate, then he was possessed by that horrible demon, Ur and then he was attacked and maimed by Two…” She shook her head. “It’s really hard to understand the will of the Goddess sometimes.” “I don’t understand it either,” Liv said. “But at least he doesn’t have to stay maimed. We have a Tolleg surgeon on board,” he explained to Frankie. “His name is Yipper and he’s the absolute best at replacing and repairing lost or damaged body parts.” “But I heard that Commander Terex didn’t want his thumb and eye replaced,” Sophie protested. “He told Sylvan that he wanted to keep his injuries as a reminder of what had happened when he went to seek revenge.” “Revenge?” Frankie frowned. “But how can he get revenge if Two’s already dead?” “Well, the clone of him that looked like Sylvan is dead,” Sophie explained. “But Two told Sylvan, when he attacked him, that he had another clone on the Scourge home world.” “So there’s another evil clone of Commander Sylvan running around out there?” Kate asked, raising an eyebrow. “That’s awful!” “Oh, no—not of Sylvan, thank the Goddess,” Sophie said quickly. “This one is something Two grew in the Flesh Tanks where the Scourge used to make all their warriors.” “It’s probably huge then—and mean and nasty and all kinds of crazy if it has Two’s personality inside it.” Liv shuddered. “And Terex wants to go after that thing?” “He says he needs to be avenged,” Sophie said softly. “Honestly, I don’t blame him. He needs closure. He…” She shook her head. “I spoke to him—visited him in the med center when I went to see Sylvan. He’s broken inside, Liv. He needs to find a way to heal and this quest to find and kill the last Two clone might be the only way.” “He will be going on a trip—but not only for vengeance.” Kate’s voice had a hollow quality that made everyone look at her. Frankie noticed that her lovely

eyes had a faraway look to them, as though she was seeing something none of the rest of them could see. “He will seek that which cannot be found and find that which was never lost before he returns. And he will not journey alone.” “Um, what do you mean by that, Kate?” Liv asked carefully. “Hmm?” Kate blinked her eyes and shook her head. “By what?” “By what you just said,” Sophie said, frowning. “Did I just say something?” Kate asked, looking confused. “I…I don’t saying anything.” “It was the Knowing,” Liv said quietly. “You just made like, I don’t know, a mini-prophesy I guess.” “I did?” Kate frowned and ran a hand over her face. “That’s strange—that’s not usually how the Knowing works. I can tell things about people when I touch them and I sometimes have prophetic dreams but it doesn’t usually just…pop out in the middle of conversation.” “That’s okay, hon,” Sophie said, reaching across the couch to squeeze her hand. “Maybe it was the Goddess speaking through you.” “Maybe you should tell Commander Terex about it,” Frankie suggested. “Since it had to do with him.” “But I don’t what it was,” Kate protested. “God…” She sighed and ran a hand through her hair. “This is weird, even for me.” “You’re not weird,” Liv promised her. “Or at least, no more than any of the rest of us are. Look at everything we’ve been through—weird goes with the territory when it comes to the Kindred.” Frankie had to laugh at that. “You’ve got that right! If someone would have told me two weeks ago that I would be getting married to a man who could switch bodies with me anytime we wanted, I would have thought they were crazy or high.” “So you can do that at will now?” Sophie asked.

“Yup. Anytime we want.” Frankie smiled. “It’s a lot better than being stuck in each other’s bodies, I can tell you that.” “Yeah, but have you used it for, you know, nookie purposes?” Liv asked. “I mean not to pry but…” “Not quite yet,” Frankie said, laughing again. “I mean, we’ve kissed when we were Switched but nothing else—not yet, anyway.” “Ah, well…you’ve got plenty of time to try it.” Liv winked at her. “A lifetime, in fact.” “You’re right—a lifetime. And it starts today.” Feeling her heart swell, Frankie smiled. A lifetime with the man she loved sounded just about right to her. She was so glad and thankful that she and Kerov had ended up together and that he hadn’t been killed when he Jumped into Two. She just hoped that the other people who had been wounded both physically and emotionally by the awful incident would be able to heal—especially Commander Terex. Frankie couldn’t help ing the way he’d looked at Elaina, the woman from the HKR building back on Earth. At the time she and Liv and Sophie had thought that maybe there might be a romance blossoming between them but how was that possible now with Terex maimed and scarred by what Two had done? “Please,” she prayed silently. “Let him be healed. And let him find love and happiness as great as what I have been granted with Kerov.” Though she heard no answer to her prayer, Frankie felt a sense of peace—a feeling that somehow, no matter how difficult things seemed, all would be well. She only hoped it was true.

Leave a Review

If you have enjoyed Switched, please take a moment to leave a quick review HERE. Good reviews are like gold for an author—they help other readers decide to take a chance on a new book. Which in turn, gets me new readers which means I can keep writing for a living to feed your Kindred cravings. : ) Hugs and thanks for being an awesome reader! Evangeline

I'm sure a lot of you were expecting the next book to be about Y, Two's hapless scion. Sorry, guys—my muse let me know early on that he wasn't going to make it. I did receive a lot of e-mail, however, asking me about Commander Terex. He's gotten a really raw deal throughout the Kindred books and right now he's feeling hurt, betrayed and broken. I think he's about due for some love so the next book will be about him and Elaina who has a devastating secret of her own.

Read on for a Sneak Peek at UNCHARTED, Brides of the Kindred 18

Sneak Peek at UNCHARTED— Brides of the Kindred, Book 18

Commander Terex has had a terrible life. First he lost his mate, then he was taken over by an evil demon, then attacked and mutilated by the Dark Kindred, Two—enemy of his kind. He feels broken and the only thing that can make him whole again is vengeance—or so he thinks. Elaina Thornton has a secret grief—a sister who is terminally ill with no hope of recovery. She too, feels broken inside—unable to do anything but grieve. But then a prophesy is spoken—Elaina's healing and Terex's vengeance lie in the same direction, in the mysterious Dark Sector. Ships that fly into this part of the universe never return and yet this is where they must go. Despite Elaina's fear, she is willing to risk anything to save her sister. Terex just wants revenge. Neither of them is looking for love but sometimes the Goddess has plans of her own. What awaits them in the Dark Sector—love or death? You'll have to read UNCHARTED to find out!

One

“I’m so glad you decided to let me replace your missing eye and thumb, Commander Terex. Yes I am, yes I am!” Yipper, the Tolleg surgeon bounced excitedly around Terex’s feet, his long, furry ears flopping. With his shaggy gray brown fur and long face, he looked like a cross between a baboon and a hound dog—or so said the humans who inhabited the Mother Ship—but he was the best prosthetic surgeon around. “Yes, well…” Terex blinked his new prosthetic eye, which was indistinguishable from the other, and flexed the thumb the little surgeon had grafted seamlessly to his hand. He had lost his original body parts in a struggle with Two, the Dark Kindred, who had maimed him in order to gain access to the Mother Ship’s restricted areas. Two had needed the thumbprint and retinal scan of a Council member in order to get into the water processing area, where he planned to dump a toxic virus into the entire water supply and take over the ship. He had ultimately been stopped before he was able to carry out his evil scheme but not before he’d gotten to Terex who had, unfortunately, been in the wrong place at the wrong time. At least, that was what Terex tried to tell himself when he thought of the shameful episode. But try as he might, he couldn’t forget the way Two had overpowered him, shot him up with a paralytic agent—and mutilated him. With the paralytic in his system, Terex had been helpless to stop him. He still woke from nightmares, drenched in sweat, where he felt the bite of the Dark Kindred’s knife sawing through his thumb…felt the sharp tip gouging into the flesh of his eye socket. Stop it, he told himself angrily, flexing his new left thumb again. It was a traumatic experience but it’s over now. Get over it! It was good advice but Terex was having a difficult time taking it, possibly because the incident with Two wasn’t the only time in recent memory when he had been overpowered. Previous to his struggle with Two, he had been inhabited by Ur, a demon from the Black Planet, who had used his body as a host for his evil designs.

These two very personal attacks, coupled with the death of his beloved mate Solange, now dead for ten solar years, had made Terex seriously question if he wanted to continue living. The answer, he had decided, was no. But before he died, he had a mission—a quest of vengeance that could not go unfulfilled. Two had left behind a single Scion—a huge warrior grown in the flesh vats of the Scourge Father Ship. When Two had died, this Scion had fled to parts unknown. At first it was thought he might be on the Scourge home planet, but several probes sent to scan the surface of the toxic world had revealed no life signatures. Two’s Scion was still out there, somewhere, and Terex was determined to seek him out and rid the universe once and for all of the evil bastard. Then he could die in peace—either in battle or by his own hand, after the deed was accomplished. He cared little which way death came—only that it came swiftly and honorably after his vengeance was complete. “Tell me, Commander Terex, if you please, if you please,” Yipper said, breaking into his morbid thoughts. “Why did you change your mind and decide to have your body parts replaced after all? I was told that you were dead set against replacements at first. So I was, so I was.” “It wasn’t out of vanity, I can tell you that,” Terex said dryly. “I don’t give a damn for how I look any more—it isn’t as if I’m courting a mate. But Commander Sylvan pointed out that I would be at a disadvantage if I allowed myself to stay maimed. When I thought of it, I realized he had a good point. I am hunting an enemy who is larger and stronger than myself—I need every advantage to take him down.” “A good point, yes it is, yes it is.” the little Tolleg nodded eagerly. “And the parts I’ve given you will put you at a distinct advantage when it comes to battle. They aren’t just exact replicas of your own lost bits and pieces, no they aren’t, no they aren’t!” “They’re not?” Terex frowned and looked down at his thumb. “How are they different?” “Your new ocular piece has an extraordinary range of vision,” Yipper explained. “You’ll be able to see four times as far as you would with your normal, organic eye. And you’ll also be able to focus on small objects and magnify them if you

so choose.” “That’s useful.” Terex closed his right eye and focused his left at a spot on the far wall. Since they were standing in Yipper’s surgical suite slash repair shop, what he saw was a white rack filled with prosthetic hands, legs, feet, and arms. When he concentrated, he found he was able to focus on one particular body part —a foot—and see it in great detail, down to the curving, lifelike ridges on the toenails. “Yes, very useful indeed,” he murmured. “Oh, and before I forget, your new retina can mimic the retinal pattern of any creature or person living or dead,” the little Tolleg said. “And your new thumb can mimic any print as well. So no door should be locked against you in your quest.” “Is that right?” Terex frowned thoughtfully. It seemed cruelly ironic that he should have been maimed because of Two’s need for his unique print and retinal pattern and now the replacement parts he had been given could, in turn, mimic any pattern he might need in his quest to kill the bastard’s Scion. Ironic but fitting. “Yes that’s right. Yes it is, yes it is.” Yipper nodded eagerly, his ears flopping again. "And I've even installed a pigmentation control that will affect your hair, eye, and skin color." "What? But why?" Terex raised an eyebrow. "In the outer reaches of space, it is often advantageous to be able to blend in with others of an alien race. Yes it is, yes it is! Observe." The little Tolleg guided him to a 3-D viewer standing against one wall of his surgical suite. "Now put your new thumb against the temple closest to your new ocular implant. Then imagine yourself with a different colored epidermis or hair," he instructed. Terex stared at himself. In the viewer he saw what he had always seen—an older warrior but one who was still in his prime with hard muscles and piercing dark blue, almost purple eyes. As he was a Blood Kindred, he had the double set of fangs where a human would have their canine teeth. He also had dark blond hair, like most Blood Kindred, clipped military short. "Try something new—yes you should, yes you should!" Yipper said excitedly.

Terex had no heart for any kind of foolishness but he didn't like to disappoint the little Tolleg who had done such an excellent job of restoring his body, if not his spirit. Placing the pad of his new left thumb against his left temple, he pictured himself with silver skin and black hair like a Yalen. At once, his image changed in the viewer. His skin turned shiny silver all over while his hair turned black. The skin tone was startling but Terex thought the hair looked surprisingly realistic. It was even flecked with specks of silvery-gray in the same places his own blond color was, though it was much more noticeable now that the main part of his hair was black. The color extended to the closely clipped beard he now wore as well. Most Kindred were clean shaven, but lately Terex had begun to break with tradition—in more than one way. "Ah—very good! Very good!" Yipper exclaimed. "Yes, it's…interesting." Terex put his thumb to his temple again and returned himself to his normal skin color. But the black hair he rather liked. It matched his mood of late. He decided to keep it. “Tell me, Commander Terex, how do you plan to find the one you seek?" Yipper asked him. "I have heard that the probes of the Scourge Home World, where it was thought he had gone, found no life signatures.” “I have been promised help in that regard,” Terex said gravely. “I was told by one of the priestesses who has the gift of Sight that she would meditate upon the matter and let me know when she had some insight.” “Ah, the priestesses are very wise, so they are, so they are,” Yipper murmured. “Truly, they serve the Goddess well.” “Certainly,” Terex said neutrally. In point of fact, he had given up trying to understand the motivations of the Mother of Life—the Kindred Goddess who had created their race and who some said still took an active part in it. Terex was no longer sure if that was true or why a supposedly divine and perfectly good being would allow so much evil to befall one of her children.

Then the old guilt surged up in him again. Don’t pretend you don’t know why, whispered a little voice in the back of his mind. The evil which befell you was not of the Goddess’s doing but of your own. The sins you committed in the past can be expiated with nothing less than pain. The agony you have endured, both physical and mental, is of your own making. Yes, but would he never be done paying? Every time Terex thought the scales were at last balanced, some other evil would befall him, reminding him yet again of his misspent youth and the wrongs he had committed. Wrongs which could, apparently, only be paid for in blood. Well, he was through paying, Terex told himself. He would seek out Two’s Scion with the help of the Seer Priestess and kill the bastard good and dead. In the process, he prayed that he might be killed himself. Then and only then would he finally be freed to enter the presence of the Mother of All Life. Maybe he would even see Solange again. That would be sweet. His beloved mate had been gone over ten cycles now—it would be good to gaze upon her lovely face once more. But what if your sins still aren’t paid for? whispered that voice in his head. What if you wind up in one of the Seven Hells instead of in the Goddess’s presence with Solange? Terex examined the thought and found that he didn’t really care. As long as he was gone from this plane of existence, he would be well content. For a time he had thought there might be something still worth living for—the image of a female with green and gold flecked eyes rose for a moment in his mind but he pushed it away. The female that bore those lovely eyes was not for him—no female was for him. There was nothing for him now but vengeance, pain, and if the Goddess granted it, death. “Commander Terex, are you well, are you well?” Yipper sounded concerned and Terex realized he had been staring off into space, contemplating his own demise as calmly as one would consider what to have for mid-day meal. It occurred to him that his newly fatalistic attitude towards life ought to bother him. But it didn’t. Nothing bothered him anymore—nothing touched the shell that had formed around his heart. There was that, at least—he was safe from emotion, safe from pain. And wasn’t it better to be cold than in agony?

Yes, much better, he told himself. Aloud he said to Yipper, “I’m fine, my friend. And I wish to thank you for your fine service.” “You’re very welcome, so you are, so you are.” The little Tolleg nodded earnestly. “If there is anything else you need or require, please don’t hesitate to call on me.” “I will,” Terex said, smiling a little. “I—” Just then he got the strange tingling sensation in his temples which meant someone was trying to bespeak him. He frowned—he had no close friends aboard the Mother Ship, not anymore. Who would be trying to him in such an intimate fashion? “Excuse me,” he said to Yipper. “Someone is trying to communicate with me.” Striding out of the surgery, he rounded the corner and stood in an empty hallway where he could concentrate. Closing his eyes, he opened himself to the call and heard a strong, feminine voice in his mind. “Warrior, it is I, the priestess Nirobe. You consulted with me and asked that I meditate to learn the whereabouts of the last Scion of Two, he who tried to destroy us.” “Yes—yes, I did.” Terex felt a surge of excitement shoot through him. “Have you found out where he is?” “In a manner of speaking,” the priestess replied evasively. “I have information you can use but it comes at a price. Will you pay it?” Terex frowned. “What is the price? I thought the advice of those who make their home in the Sacred Grove was freely given.” “In most cases it is but this is a special occasion,” Nirobe sent primly. “Will you pay the price?” “How can I offer to pay when I don’t even know what you want?” Terex demanded, feeling frustrated. “What if you ask for more credit than I have or can borrow?” “The payment I require is not in physical wealth but in spiritual riches,” the

priestess replied obliquely. “All will be made clear in the abundance of time. Come to the Sacred Grove this very evening directly after Last Meal and we will discuss what you owe and how you can pay it. Then and only then will I impart the knowledge which the Goddess has given me.” “Very well.” It was an irritating caveat but Terex knew better than to complain. The priestesses who served in the Sacred Grove almost always spoke in riddles— it was useless to expect a direct answer out of one of them. “I will see you at the appointed time. Until then, warrior, be well.” The presence of Nirobe faded from his mind, leaving Terex frowning and uncertain. What knowledge did the priestess have for him…and what payment would he have to promise in order to get it?

Want more? You can find the rest of UNCHARTED by following the link...

And now I'd like you to be on the look out for a whole new series I'm writing called The AMI—short for The Alien Mate Index. It's a fast-paced, steamy Sci-fi epic I think you'll love if you like my Kindred books.

Take a quick look at chapter one of ABDUCTED, Book 1 in the AMI series.

Sneak Peek at ABDUCTED— Alien Mate Index, Book 1

The Alien Mate Index or How I became an Alien Mail Order Bride

My name is Zoe McKinley. I have a boring life, an awful job, and a boss that throws staplers at my head. What could be worse? How about being abducted by Aliens? Being dragged through a mirror, naked and screaming, onto an extraterrestrial ship was bad. Finding out I had been sold to a huge alien male who looks like the Devil was worse. But learning he wanted to trade me to an intergalactic petting zoo was the worst of all! Now I'm whizzing through the galaxy with a robot butler, a trio of nib-nibs (they're like tiny green monkeys) for pets, and one huge, muscular, and very grumpy alien. The clothing they gave me shows all my lady-bits, the food-sim makes lemon pie that tastes like sauerkraut, and Sarden, my captor, is too hot to stay mad at, even if he is a jerk. In fact, I think I might be falling for him. What's a girl to do? It's all in a day's work when you've been...Abducted.

Part One

Through the Looking Glass

(No, seriously, I’m not kidding. I actually went through a freaking looking glass.)

One

Zoe

All the hottest mail order brides come from Russia. Russia or somewhere over in the Ukraine. At least, that’s what it looks like if you’re surfing the Internet late at night and you run across one of those awful Bride sites. All those women are tall and thin with sleek, perfect hair and sexy smiles. Oh, and they’re all willing to travel halfway around the world to get out of the crappy place they’re living and start a new life. Of course, they might change their minds if they found out they’d have to travel halfway across the freaking universe. That might be a deal breaker. I know it would have been for me—if anyone had given me a choice. I didn’t get a choice though. In fact, I didn’t even know I was in the AMI. That’s the Alien Mate Index—which is the site full of women that Alien males with a taste for Earth girl coochie can choose from. Hell, I didn’t even know there was an Alien Mate Index at all! Until I got abducted. Now, lest you go thinking that I’m some six-foot tall, hot, blonde supermodel, let me set the record straight. I’m not. I’m so not. I’m five four in my stocking feet and I have curly auburn hair that tends to frizz on a humid day. And since I live in Florida, every day is a humid day. In addition to not being tall with sleek blonde hair, I am also not thin. That’s okay though—I’m not afraid to it I’m plus sized. I own my curves and I love them. I spent too many years at Weight Watchers counting points until I felt like a freaking adding machine. Finally I decided, you know what? Forget it. Me getting skinny just isn’t going to happen. Now I live my life by the 80/20 rule. Eighty percent of the time I eat healthy and

the other twenty percent I eat a damn donut if I want it. So what if I’m a size sixteen the rest of my life? I can deal with that as long as I don’t have to live on nothing but kale and quinoa. Krispy Kreme is more my style anyway. I guess what I’m trying to tell you is that I’m not exactly mail order bride material. I’m just an ordinary girl with a little more junk in the trunk than usual, flyaway red hair, and too many freckles. I’m not the kind of girl a guy would point to on a website and go—“Her—oh my God, I’ve got to have her.” At least, I didn’t think so. Again, until I got abducted. But let me tell you about that—and you might want to take some notes. You might want to know what or who might be coming for you. That’s because you never can tell who might be watching you, even when you’re having the most boring, awful, ordinary day of your life… “Oh my God, he’s being an asshole again. I’m telling you, Leah, I can’t take much more,” I muttered into my phone as I sat huddled in a stall of the employee bathroom at Lauder, Lauder and Associates. I worked as a paralegal there and the lawyer I was assigned to, Dayton Lauder the third, was a real piece of work. Dayton always spoke in this booming voice, as though he was addressing a crowd of irers and he wanted the ones in the back to be able to hear him. Unfortunately, most days it was just him and me and I was most definitely not an irer. That didn’t stop him from “yell-talking”(as my friend Charlotte called it) all the time, though. I ended most work days with a pounding headache. If poor voice modulation was the worst thing I had to put up with, I might not have minded so much. Unfortunately, Dayton had other problems that put the “yell-talking” one in the shade. One problem was his personal hygiene—or lack thereof. When most people think of a lawyer, they imagine some sexy associate from The Good Wife with an immaculate, pressed, tailored suit, neatly clipped hair, and manicured hands. Not Dayton Lauder the third.

As a tax lawyer, he didn’t really go to court much. He just sat in his office and did paperwork, so I guess he thought it didn’t matter how he came to work. Well, it mattered to me. Or anybody that got too close to him. My boss had a love affair with brown, polyester suits. I say “suits” but in fact, I was convinced he only owned one of them which he wore every single day and never cleaned. It was rumpled and wrinkled and he wore it with a stained white shirt that had dirt marks on the collar and sleeves. Every time he waved his arms —he did this a lot while he was “yell-talking”—a huge cloud of nauseating BO would waft out, nearly knocking me over if I stood too close. He had coffee breath too—not too surprising since he had me brew him several pots a day. Of course, I’m a paralegal, not a freaking barista but the economy sucked and I needed the job. So I brewed the damn coffee and even fixed it just the way he liked it—three creams and four sugars. Now, people can be socially awkward and not be horrible. But again, not my boss. He shouted at me a lot and just that morning he’d actually thrown a stapler at my head because I had stapled his papers in the top left hand corner instead of putting the staple right in the middle where he preferred it. What an ass. After the stapler incident, I had run to the bathroom where I was pouring out my heart to Leah, one of my two best friends. “Oh, Zoe, I’m so sorry.” Leah had a soft, sweet voice—everything about her was soft and sweet actually—that I normally found soothing. But today, I was too upset to be soothed. “He threw a stapler at my freaking head,” I emphasized. “That’s awful,” she exclaimed. And then I heard her say, “All right, sweetheart, I’ll help you find your pony in just a minute. Right now, though, Miss Heidi is in charge. Okay?” Leah works in a private daycare center that specializes in mildly autistic children and she’s better with kids than I could ever be. Talk about the patience of a saint.

“Kids sneaking into the break room again?” I asked. She sighed. “Yes, I’m sorry. Heidi is supposed to be in charge but they always seem to want me. Makes it hard to take a break.” “I shouldn’t be taking up your time then,” I said. “Let me let you go.” “No—keep talking. You need to get it off your chest.” Leah would make an awesome therapist, I swear, which is what she really wanted to be if she could ever get back to school. There was a clicking on the line that I recognized. “Oh, no. Hang on,” Leah said, her soft voice suddenly filled with dread. There was a pause and I wondered if it was Gerald, her overprotective fiancée calling. Leah always claimed he had her best interest at heart but over time he had become more and more controlling until Charlotte, my other best friend, and I, were really worried about her. A moment later, Leah came back on. “It’s just Charlotte,” she said, her voice filled with relief. “Should I put her on too?” “Of course. She must have gotten my message—I called her before I called you.” I cleared my throat. “I, uh, thought it might be Gerald calling you again,” I said as she merged the calls. “Nope. He’s off on a business trip this weekend.” Leah’s voice sounded light and happy—I wondered if she had any idea that she sounded that way when her fiancée was gone. “Who’s on a business trip? Gerald?” Charlotte’s no-nonsense voice came on the line, filled with disbelief. “And he trusts you to be in the house alone all weekend?” “Of course he trusts me.” There was a note of defensiveness in Leah’s voice that worried me. I had never liked her fiancée and lately his nasty attitude seemed to be getting worse. But now wasn’t the time to stage a “your boyfriend is a controlling asshole” intervention. Taking pity on her, I decided to turn the

conversation back to my current situation. Quickly, I outlined the situation to Charlotte. She’s a nurse practitioner working for an orthopedic surgeon—he even lets her assist in some of the surgeries he does. She has the best job by far of the three of us but I can’t be jealous of her for it—she really busted her ass to get where she is. Not that getting a paralegal degree is all rainbows and unicorns but it’s not as complicated as what Charlotte is doing. “Report him to Human Resources,” Charlotte said at once, when I finished the near-miss-stapler-to-the-head story for the second time. I sighed. “We’ve been over that—you know I can’t! His uncle and father own the company. Human resources isn’t going to do jack shit about it!” “Zoe…” Leah didn’t like harsh language. “Sorry, Leah but you know it’s true. I just—” Suddenly I heard a strange gurgling coming from the stall beside me. Uh-oh— was someone in there? Specifically, was Mindy the office tattletale taking notes? “Hang on a minute, guys,” I told my friends in a low voice. “I’m not sure I’m alone in here.” “Uh-oh,” Leah whispered. I risked a glance down but didn’t see any feet at the bottom of the stall. My heart, which had started to pound, slowed a little. Whew—all safe, I had the bathroom to myself to bitch! “Everything okay?” Charlotte asked. “Yup. All clear.” I sighed again. “Look guys, I know I complain about my asshole boss—sorry Leah—all the time but this is the first time he’s actually thrown something at me. I swear I don’t know what is wrong with him!” “He’s a jerk,” Charlotte said bluntly. “And he shouldn’t get away with it.” “Right,” I muttered. “And he wouldn’t if I had the guts to quit. But I need this

job too much—I’ll lose my apartment if I walk off now.” “How about that law firm downtown?” Leah asked. “I thought you were going to put in an application there.” “I did,” I said. “But they aren’t hiring right now. So I don’t—” Suddenly the gurgling sound in the stall next to me started up again. Only this time it was louder—so loud in fact it sounded like the toilet was overflowing. And then I heard this weird music—kind of like a trumpet blast only louder. “What the Hell?” I muttered, pushing open the door of my stall. What was going on in the stall beside me? Was someone flushing the toilet and playing a trumpet at the same time? And if so, who was doing it? As far as I knew, we didn’t have any budding musicians at Lauder, Lauder and Associates. Or if we did you wouldn’t know it—I swear working at that place smothered every spark of creativity. Still, I decided to check out the noise. When I bent down, I still didn’t see any feet. “Zoe? What’s going on?” Charlotte asked. “Yeah—what’s that music?” Leah chimed in. Geeze, was it really so loud they could hear it on the other end of the phone? “I don’t know,” I said. “But I’m going to find out.” Which was absolutely the stupidest thing I could have done. But of course, I didn’t know it at the time. This being pre-abduction, as I said before. Carefully, I tented my fingers and pushed lightly on the stall door. It swung open slowly revealing…nothing. Just a handicapped stall with railings on one side of the toilet and a sink with a mirror over it. Wait…maybe not nothing. The mirror over the sink was doing something weird. And by weird, I mean it wasn’t reflecting what I expected it to be reflecting—namely my reflection. Instead, it had a swirling pattern going on—a whirling ring of colors that spun outward from a single point. It looked like one of those hypno-gifs you see sometimes where you’re supposed to stare at it for two minutes and then close

your eyes and look away and you’ll see something you’ve never seen before. Well, I was about to see something I’d never seen before—and it was going to change my life—only I didn’t know it at the time. Like a fool, I moved closer. “Zoe? Zoe?” the voices of my two best friends pulled me back to reality. I looked down at the phone in my hand and realized I was just holding it limp at my side. When had I taken it away from my ear? And how had I gotten so close to the swirling mirror? I was standing right in front of it, almost close enough to touch it. “Guys?” I started to lift the phone to my ear and that was when the swirling stopped and a face appeared. Not my face—that would have been normal. No, it was another face—an alien face—and it was staring at me, right out of the mirror. I wanted to scream but all of the air seemed to have left my lungs somehow. What the hell was going on? The alien face looked at me speculatively. It was male—that much was clear. Strong features and gold eyes with vertical pupils like a cat’s stared back at me. He had cheekbones sharp enough to cut yourself on and a nose that looked like it had been broken at least once. A neatly clipped mustache and goatee framed sensual lips that looked cruelly amused. He had dark red skin—almost maroon— I could see a lot of that because he appeared to be wearing a black, wife-beater type t-shirt that left his muscular arms bare. Actually, except for the cat eyes and red skin, he looked strangely human. Well, except for the horns. Did I mention he had freaking horns? Because he did—little short, sharp pointed ones, growing out either side of his forehead—right at his temples.

I stared at them, dumbfounded, unable to speak for a moment. And that’s unusual for me because I’m almost always shooting off my mouth. All I could think was, the Devil. Oh my God, the freaking Devil was staring at me from the mirror of the handicapped bathroom at Lauder, Lauder and Associates and I had no idea what to do. My mind started going over all the things I’d done wrong recently. Okay, I might have fudged a little on my taxes. Using my laptop to check reports while I lay on the couch watching Sherlock reruns on Netflix counts as having a home office— right? And then there was the time I accidentally shoplifted a pair of socks. I forgot I had them in my hand and walked right out of the store with them. And then I was too embarrassed to bring them back so I guess I basically stole them but I didn’t mean to so— Suddenly, the Devil spoke, ending my train of thought as thoroughly as though it had run into the side of a mountain. “Yes,” he said in a deep, growling voice. “She is the one.” The one for what? The one to drag straight down to Hell and poke in the ass with a fiery pitchfork? Oh my God, was cheating on my taxes and shoplifting socks that bad? “I…I’m sorry,” I stuttered but just then another voice—a piping, high voice like a Disney animal—answered him. “If you are certain this female is the one Your Eminence requires, then I shall begin the transport at once.” Transport? What Transport? Instinctively, I began backing away from the haunted mirror to Hell but then the swirling started again. And this time there was a wind that went with it. A sucking, howling wind that dragged at me, pulling me towards the mirror. “Help!” I screamed, or tried to scream, anyway. My voice was lost in the vortex as I was pulled closer and closer to the mirror. My feet left the floor and I put out my hands, trying to stop my forward

momentum. My phone clattered into the sink and I could hear Leah and Charlotte shouting on the other end of it but their voices seemed tiny and distant. My hand connected to the mirror…and sank into it. I gasped in fear as I saw first my hand and then my whole arm swallowed up in the swirling psychedelic colors. My other hand and arm followed and suddenly the mirror was right in front of my face. And then I felt myself getting sucked in completely. Lauder, Lauder and Associates disappeared and the last thing I heard was my two best friends frantically screaming my name. Then…nothing. Who knew the gateway to Hell was located in the employees’ bathroom?

Two

Zoe

At first I couldn’t see anything but a hazy rainbow—maybe the after effects of the psychedelic bathroom-mirror-portal-thing I’d been sucked into. Then the swirling colors faded and I found I was looking up into five faces—at least, I thought they were faces. They certainly weren’t human faces though, that was for sure. Maybe they were demons? That would make sense although they didn’t look like any demons I had ever seen. Also, the floor I was lying on was cold— like freezing. Wasn’t Hell supposed to be hot? I blinked groggily and had a blurred impression of dull silver metal walls surrounding me. “Where am I? Is this Hell?” I croaked. “The Pure One wakes,” one of them announced in the high, piping tones I recognized as the Disney character voice I’d heard before. Great, I’d been dragged into the afterlife by the demon version of Bambi. Or something that sounded like Bambi, anyway—it sure as Hell (pardon the pun) didn’t look like him. None of them did. Ten bulging purple eyeballs on long stalks studied me with apparent interest. The eyes were connected to long, slender blue bodies that looked like some mad scientist had decided to grow three foot long earthworms and dye them indigo. They weren’t completely worm-like though—they each had multiple pairs of arms with long, claw-like fingers. Fingers that were currently reaching for me. “No…no!” I gasped, trying to roll away from them. “Get away from me!” “Be cautious! The Pure One is agitated!” Bambi squeaked and the worm-like demon creatures slithered hurriedly out of my way, obviously not too eager to be squished into worm pâté. Suddenly, I saw the Devil again. He leaned over me and I froze at once, startled

to see his handsome, horned face staring at me upside down. “Be still,” he commanded. “Tazaxx doesn’t take damaged goods and I’ve already spent most of my reserves buying your ridiculously expensive hide. I can’t afford another Pure One.” “Another what?” I demanded, trying to sit up. “At least you look the part,” he remarked, his golden eyes roving over my body. “Those curves—Gods, no wonder the Ancient Ones wanted your pitiful little planet protected. You’d have been raided eons ago if every female on your world looks like you.” “I…my…what?” The way he was looking at me made me feel naked. Then I looked down and realized I was. I was completely nude—butt-nekked to borrow a phrase from my very Southern grandma. Not only was I naked, I was lying there on display like some kind of pale freckled, red-headed buffet for the Devil and all his minions to feast on. Well, if he was the Devil. Some of what he’d been saying had penetrated my foggy brain and I was beginning to have my doubts about that, despite the red skin, golden eyes, and horns. I had no doubt about covering myself, though. I pulled my knees up to my chest and crossed my ankles tight. I own my curves but I’m still shy about showing them off in the nude—especially to a Devil-looking man who had just dragged my ass through a mirror and was eyeing me like I was some kind of Victoria’s Secret angel sent just for him. “There’s no need to hide yourself,” he remarked sarcastically. “I’ve already seen it all—you’ll be most pleasing to Tazaxx. To any male, for that matter.” “What are you talking about?” I demanded, lifting my chin. He seemed awfully tall and big but maybe that was just because I was huddled on the ground and he was looming over me. “Are you the Devil? And is this Hell?” I asked, needing to make sure. “Because if it is, I swear I didn’t mean to take those socks. If you’ll just return me to my home I promise I’ll dig them out of my sock drawer and take them back right

away. I’ll pay double what they cost—triple even.” The Devil frowned at me, his luscious, cruel lips twisting with the expression. Which raised yet another question—was the Devil supposed to be hot? I mean, in the sexy sense—not the actual temperature sense like all of Hell was supposed to be hot. Oh God, I was rambling, even to myself. I was in so much trouble here… “What is she talking about?” he asked someone I couldn’t see. “She’s not making any sense.” He stabbed a finger at one of the blue worm-like creatures. “You told me the transfer process wouldn’t hurt her mental ability. I need a perfect specimen. Tazaxx won’t trade for an idiot—not even a fucking gorgeous one.” “I believe, Master, that the female is referring to an Earth religion,” a crisp voice that put me in mind of a proper English butler, stated. “The religion says that those who do evil are sent to a region called ‘Hell’ after death to pay for their sins. There they are persecuted by a fallen deity who torments them forever in a lake of fire.” “I would hardly call shoplifting socks ‘evil’,” I protested. “I mean, wrong, yes but evil—no. At least, not enough to get dragged down to Hell. Which I’m guessing this is not?” I added hopefully. The Devil—(or not-Devil? Now I didn’t know what to call him)—rumbled laughter. “No, little Pure One, this is not your Hell. Look around—do you see any lake of fire?” “N-no,” I itted. “Then what would make you think this is your version of damnation?” he asked, his deep voice sounding genuinely confused. “I believe, Master, that would be due to your…ahem horns,” the proper butler voice said. I looked around—where was that voice coming from? There appeared to be a tiny golden insect sitting on the not-Devil’s broad shoulder. But could such a tiny

thing speak? “My horns? You have a problem with my horns?” The look on his chiseled features darkened—the amused expression sliding away from his handsome face. His cat-eyes glowed an even more brilliant gold for a moment and he seemed to get even bigger somehow. His skin got even redder and the scowl on his face made him look absolutely terrifying. I gave a little squeak and scooted away from him as well as I could. Unfortunately, my bare butt seemed frozen to the cold metal floor so I didn’t get too far. What I wouldn’t give for some panties—even some big old cotton granny panties would do. In fact, they would be great—they would help me slide instead of sticking to the damn floor! Okay, my mind was going on a tangent again. This was bad. Really bad. Calm down, Zoe, I told myself. Keep it together, girl. It’s going to be okay. This is probably just a bad dream. A really, really vivid nightmare and you’re going to wake up any minute. I hoped, anyway. “Master, I could be wrong, but if I read the elevated heart rate and respiration of the female correctly, I believe you are frightening her,” the proper voice said. “Quite badly in fact.” “H-he’s right,” I whispered, trying to make my voice sound normal and failing abysmally. “Y-you’re scaring the ever-loving crap out of me, to be honest.” “Forgive me.” He straightened up a little and his eyes stopped glowing. “I thought you were making a reference to my parentage. I forgot—you know nothing of my kind, just as we know almost nothing of yours, as your world has been isolated for so long. Very well then, little Pure One. I am not a fallen deity. Or a deity of any kind. I’m just a half-breed smuggler who picked you from the AMI.” “The…the AMI?” I asked, feeling my heart rate start to go back to normal now that he wasn’t glaring golden daggers at me. “The AMI—The Alien Mating Index,” piped up the worm creature I had dubbed Bambi. “We are an agency that specializes in finding and procuring only the

most elite females. Only those that were seeded with hidden talents by the Ancient Ones are found and taken. Our database has millions of candidates on Earth alone and is growing daily as new abilities are being discovered and new and luscious females come of age to be harvested. Males come from all over the galaxy to see what we have to offer and—” “Wait a minute, wait a minute.” I said, holding up my hand. “Stop the sales pitch. Did you just say you’re running some kind of an alien dating agency here? Because I don’t g up to be matched with any kind of alien, okay? So there must be some mistake—if you’d kindly just take me back to Earth—” “Impossible,” twittered Bambi in his high, squeaky voice. “You have been chosen as the prime candidate by his Eminence, Lord Sarden. He has commanded that you be transported and has paid your contract price in full—we never remit such a payment unless just cause is found.” “Lord Sarden?” I said, staring up at the not-Devil guy again. “Lord of what? Lord of who?” He shrugged, his impossibly broad shoulders rolling with the motion. “Don’t pay any attention—that’s just how the Commercians talk. Obsequious little bastards, always looking to turn a credit.” “But Master,” interrupted the proper butler voice. “You would be Lord if you would claim your rightful place. If you would only—” “That’s enough, A.L.,” Sarden snapped. “Forgive me, Master.” The golden insect on his shoulder—which looked a little like a dragonfly—fluttered its glittering wings in agitation. “Forgiven. Just keep your mouth shut.” Sarden looked back at me. “Basically what they’re saying is that I paid for you and you’re not going back.” “What?” I demanded, sitting up straighter. Forgetting I was naked, I put my hands on my hips. “You paid for me? You can’t do that! I’m not for sale!” “You most certainly are—this whole planet is. Now that the lock put on your

world by the Ancient Ones is being dissolved, your entire world’s female population is fair game.” “Lock? Ancient Ones?” I shook my head—I was getting more and more lost. “The ones who seeded your planet millennia ago,” Bambi said helpfully. “They traveled across the universe, planting the seeds of life on only the worlds they considered the most deserving. Their DNA lives on in many sectors but only on a few, rare, specially selected worlds has it been preserved in its purest form.” “And the ‘lock’ they put around your planet is what I believe you Earthlings refer to as an ‘ozone layer,’” said the proper butler voice, which seemed to be coming from the golden dragonfly. “Now that much of it has been removed and your planet has begun to heat, outside investors are free to harvest Earth’s females. Females such as yourself, who are most valuable because they have not bred with any of the other peoples of the known universe. This is why we dub you ‘Pure Ones’—because you have only the pure blood of the Ancient Ones running through your veins.” Forget about the Ancient Ones and all the crap he was spouting about ‘Pure Ones’, my mind snagged on something else the butler voice had said. “The ozone layer?” I stared at the not-Devil guy, aka Sarden, in mounting disbelief. “Are you saying that me being abducted is a result of the hole in the ozone layer? I got snatched because of Global Warming?” He shrugged again. “If that is what you call it.” I wanted to laugh but I clamped down on it, knowing what came out of me would be more like a scream. All the environmentalists and climate change people had tried to warn us. They said that the ice caps would melt…that the seas would rise…that all the polar bears and penguins and puffins would die…They never freaking said we’d be abducted by alien bride hunters, though! I bet more people would have sat up and paid attention if someone would have mentioned that little tidbit of information. I know I would have run my AC less in the summer and carpooled to work to keep from being snatched by aliens. I was betting a lot of other girls would too. But who was telling them? Nobody,

that’s who. So now they were fair game for this crazy AMI organization. Thanks for nothing, Al Gore. “The moment the hole in your ozone layer was wide enough, the Commercians moved in, as they always do with newly harvestable planets,” the butler voice which Sarden had called “A.L.” informed me. I was beginning to think the voice coming from the dragonfly sounded like a cross between C-3P0 and Jarvis, the mechanical servant in the Iron Man movies. It sounded damn strange, coming from an insect. But before I could answer, it continued. “The Commercians injected your atmosphere with trillions of tiny viruses— some for universal translation so that brides from your planet might understand their future mates, some for immunization that our alien pathogens would not infect or kill you, some for surveillance so that every female may be watched in any reflective surface, and some for transportation—which process you have just undergone. Then they opened their base for business.” “Hold on—go back,” I said. “Did you say any reflective surface?” The dragonfly fluttered its jewel-like wings. “Indeed. Surveillance and transport viruses work together. They are silicone based life forms which are able to live in glass, metal…even water.” “So you’re watching every woman on Earth every time she checks her lipstick or does her hair?” I was horrified at the idea. Freaking peeping-Tom-pervert aliens! “As you see.” Bambi made a gesture with one of his many clawed hands (come to think of it, he looked more like a centipede than a worm) and a large screen made of golden light suddenly appeared behind him. My heart caught in my throat when I saw who it was displaying. Leah was standing there with her phone pressed to her ear, talking rapidly and looking worried. The angle we were looking at her from seemed strange and her image was elongated and distorted but I could still see her long waterfall of silky brown hair and her big, brown eyes as she spoke.

“Fix distortion—switch viewing area,” Bambi commanded in his squeaky, innocent-sounding voice. At once, the angle changed and we appeared to be looking at Leah from the side —as though we were staring in through the small window of the break room at her work, I realized. “What…how were we looking at her before?” I asked, aloud, my mouth as dry as cotton. “You said, any reflective surface, right?” “The scanner picks the first reflective surface it can find,” Bambi explained. “This was our initial viewpoint.” He pointed one clawed hand at the curved, silver side of the toaster which was sitting on the counter in front of Leah. “Oh my God,” I muttered. “And I thought it was weird that you dragged me through the bathroom mirror. Now you’re telling me it’s not even safe to make toast?” “Any reflective surface can be used for viewing and transport,” Bambi assured me. With another wave of his clawed hand, another image came into view. I bit my lip—this time it was Charlotte but she was upside down. “Switch viewing area,” Bambi said again. The view changed to a more normal look and I saw that Charlotte had a halfempty Greek yogurt container in front of her and was toying with a silver spoon as she spoke on the phone. A spoon—so that was why she had appeared upside down! Not only was it not safe to make toast, yogurt was out too! Breakfast was never going to be the same again. Charlotte looked as worried as Leah had. As always, her thick, wavy blonde hair was confined in a tight, no-nonsense ponytail and her sharp green eyes were intense as she spoke into her phone—no doubt she and Leah were discussing what had happened to me and what they should do about it. I felt my gut twist. “Those are my best friends—please, you have to leave them alone!”

“We will leave them in peace,” Bambi promised. “Oh, thank you,” I whispered, but my relief was short lived. “At least until a customer comes who wishes to buy them,” Bambi finished. “After all, both are Pure Ones and either or both might have hidden gifts from the Ancient Ones—it is difficult to tell without further testing.” “You leave them alone!” I snapped at him. “And better yet, send me back to them. They’re worried sick about me already—can’t you see that?” “Regrettably, your former life and friendships must now be left behind,” Bambi informed me. He made a gesture and the screen made of light that showed Charlotte’s face disappeared as if it had never been there in the first place. “Currently you are no less than three hundred miles above the surface of your planet on our base.” “Your base? Is that where I am?” I looked around again at the plain metal walls and floor. There was a row of what looked like holographic lights blinking in one corner. Was that some kind of control ? It looked about the right size and height for the worm-like Commercians to use, though Bambi hadn’t needed it to show me the light screen and my friends. “Their base is a ship orbiting quite close to your planet,” A.L. informed me. “It’s quite easy to conceal amidst all the space junk you have floating in your outer orbit. Your people certainly seem bent on being harvested—it appears that you dissolved the lock the Ancient Once put around your planet yourselves.” “Yeah, right, whatever,” I muttered, feeling like a scolded child. “I guess we did. But we had no idea there were aliens looking to abduct us as mail order brides!” “How could you not?” Bambi asked in his piping voice. Now that I’d been watching him for a while, I realized he looked different from the other Commercians—his wormy hide was a slightly lighter shade of blue. “For the past fifty to seventy Earth years or so we have been testing our transfer equipment by abducting one or two Earthlings every year and then returning them,” he informed me. I looked at him in horror. “So all those stories about being taken by aliens are true? Not just crazy people saying crazy things?”

“I am afraid so. We had to test and perfect our equipment, after all.” Bambi shrugged—or what I assumed was his version of a shrug. His wormy body rippled with the gesture. “Oh my God,” I whispered. “But in all those stories—or most of them—the abducted people get…get probed.” I looked at Sarden quickly. “You’re not going to…I won’t let you! I’ll fight every step of the way if you try to stick something up my…” I trailed off, finally ing the look of amusement on his sharp features. “No, no—please go on.” He made a sweeping gesture at me with one big hand. “Where exactly did you think I wanted to, ah, probe you?” “Never mind,” I said grumpily, seeing he was laughing at me. Clearly some of the crazy abduction talk was just that—crazy. “The captured Earthlings were probably referring to our sensitivity tests,” Bambi informed me, making me feel nervous all over again. “We are required to run certain examinations to be certain that our subjects are healthy and that the transportation process did not injure or mutate them in any way.” “Mutate them?” I looked down at myself, wondering if I had grown a third nipple or an eleventh toe or something awful like that. “Don’t worry,” Sarden rumbled, giving me that annoying, sardonic smile I was beginning to really dislike. “You’re fine.” “Technically we cannot say that for sure until she is tested,” Bambi pointed out. “No—no tests!” I insisted, trying to keep my chin up and my voice strong. But the awful reality was, if they wanted to test me—to probe me—they could. There were too many of them and I was just one naked, unarmed Earth girl. God, what I wouldn’t give for the little canister of mace I carried around in my purse right now! Or maybe Charlotte’s taser—she was attacked once, back in college and now she doesn’t play around. She will straight up taze a guy if he comes at her in any kind of threatening way. I wished she was here with me now to taze the big, red son of a bitch alien who was smirking down at me.

Speaking of the red son of a bitch, he seemed to read my mind. “No need to fear, little Pure One—no one will be probing any part of your lush body. Though I confess it’s a tempting idea,” he murmured. “You’re safe enough while you’re with me. Of course after I trade you, I can’t say.” He shook his head. “You’re even more beautiful than your image on the viewer. It’s a damn shame to trade you to Tazaxx.” The way he was eyeing me made me realize I was exposed—my arm had slipped and one of my nipples was peeking out at him. I readjusted quickly, but I was damn tired of feeling at a disadvantage just because I was naked. “Listen, you’re going to have to stop talking like that because you can’t buy or trade what’s not for sale,” I said, glaring up at him. “Now give me some clothes and let me go home because you’re not trading me to anyone. Read my lips— you don’t own me and I am not going with you!” It’s hard to make a point sitting down while the other guy is looming over you. I started to struggle to my feet—not easy with one arm locked in a death grip over my ta-tas and the other shielding my lady-bits. “Here.” Sarden reached down a hand to help me up. My imioned little speech didn’t seem to have fazed him at all. Not surprising since he apparently thought he held all the cards. Well, to be honest, he pretty much did, I had to it to myself. But still, I’m no quitter! I wasn’t going to let him just steal me away and march me off to some Godforsaken planet where— My thoughts cut off abruptly when his big hand made with my skin for the first time. I felt a shock of something like electricity go through me—a jolt that seemed to sizzle through every nerve in my body. It raised chill bumps over every inch of my skin and made my nipples into two painfully tight points. “Ah!” I gasped, stumbling back from him and nearly falling. “Gods!” he growled at the same time, jerking his hand away. Whatever the weird jolt was, clearly he had felt it too. “What…what was that?” I gasped, standing shakily, still trying to cover myself. Sarden didn’t answer me. Instead, he looked at the blue wormy Commercians.

“You didn’t tell me when I picked her that she was a La-ti-zal! Quick—get an inhibitor on her—now.” “A what?” I demanded but the wormy little aliens were already snapping some kind of bronze metal bracelet around my wrist. I looked down at the band and saw it had a little window on it that had glowing, incomprehensible symbols jiggling across it. Great, I was wearing the Alien version of a Fitbit. I could imagine the readout now—You’ve already gone three hundred miles today, just a few million more into outer space and you’ll reach your abduction goal! Har-har, very funny. The strange jolt I’d felt was still making me tingle in the most uncomfortable places. And it appeared to be affecting my captor too. Sarden was pressing his thumb and fingers to his closed eyelids and rubbing like a man trying to drive back a migraine. “Gods, the colors I saw,” he muttered. “Whole spectrums of light…” Looking up at me he said, “Your hair—it’s the color of flames. And your eyes…I’ve never seen anything so blue.” “Um…okay,” I said carefully. “Are you just now noticing all that? Look—what just happened anyway? What was that word you called me before you jerked away like I was a hot stove?” “A La-ti-zal,” the proper butler voice informed me and the golden dragonfly fluttered on Sarden’s shoulder. “One especially bred by the Ancient Ones to have extra gifts. They are very rare and valuable. A tingling sensation during first between such a gifted one and one of another of the Twelve Sentient Peoples she is sexually compatible with is normally the sign of a La-ti-zal. Which is, I believe, how Master Sarden ascertained your abilities.” “Which is good. It means Tazaxx will have to make the trade. He won’t be able to resist her.” Sarden straightened up and I saw for the first time how truly immense he was. Earlier I’d thought that he just looked big because I was sitting and he was standing—but it hadn’t just been a trick of perspective. This alien was huge. He

had to be seven feet tall at least, I estimated. In fact, the top of my head barely came up past his elbow and his shoulders were easily twice as broad as mine. He was muscular too but not in a gross, over-the-top, ropey-veiny way. He just looked incredibly cut and intimidating, standing there in his tight black tros and his black sleeveless t-shirt looking thing. With his incredible abs, neatly clipped mustache and goatee, and those intense golden eyes he looked positively mouthwatering. If you’re into Devil worship, that is, which I most certainly am not. But hot or not—and he was, most definitely huge and hot—I didn’t like the way he thought he’d bought me and he was already planning to trade me away. “She’ll do,” he said to Bambi who was watching, his stalk eyes wide. “I’ll take her back to my ship at once since our transaction is completed.” “Negative,” Bambi protested in his piping voice. “You paid only enough credits for a standard Pure One—an Earth basic female. The charge for an elite La-ti-zal is much higher.” “Then you should find a way to test the females and be sure of what they are before you sell them,” Sarden growled. “All sales are final—it says so in your own brochure.” For the first time, I noticed he was wearing a large, chunky silver ring with a black stone on the middle finger of his left hand. He made a motion with it and a holographic display, showing all kinds of Alien symbols I couldn’t read, appeared and started scrolling through the air. “There—see?” he said, pointing to a bit of floating green text that looked like squiggles and lines to me. Apparently the translation viruses the aliens had sent down through the hole in the ozone layer only worked for spoken communication. I was on my own if I wanted to read something. “This is true,” Bambi agreed, sounding very unhappy about it. “But we have been meaning to refine our testing for some time. If you had not come so early, we would have had time.” “So now you’re complaining that I’m your first customer?” Sarden raised one arched black eyebrow at him. “You shouldn’t have opened for business if you

weren’t ready.” “You must at least allow us to perform the sensitivity tests,” Bambi exclaimed. “Well…” Sarden appeared to consider the idea. “It would make trading her to Tazaxx easier if I had a certificate of sensitivity on file.” “Very good.” Bambi made a motion and two of the wormy Commercians slithered away only to return with a large contraption that floated through the air between them, guided by the lightest touches of their long claws. I bit the inside of my cheek, trying not to freak out and scream. The weird machine the Commercians were bringing looked like a high-tech version of the Iron Maiden I’d seen in a Medieval museum once. It had a padded upright table with straps on one side to hold the victim in place. The other half, which was clearly meant to close over it and trap the victim inside, was a bristling mass of needles and wires with sparks coming out of them. Worse even than the awful instruments of torture I saw sticking out of the second side of the upright table, was their placement—they appeared to be clustered into three specific areas. Studying them, I was certain if they strapped me to the table, those needles and wires were going to be aimed straight at my breasts and crotch. Which, I think we can all agree, are the areas you specifically don’t want needles and sparking wires making with. Great. I was about to be the star of an alien torture porn film. “Is…” I had to clear my throat before I could get the words out. “Is that going to hurt?” “Oh, yes—of course. It should be quite excruciating, in fact, as long as all your nerve endings are intact,” Bambi said cheerfully, as though he tortured girls just for fun every day. As far as I knew, he did. Who knows what gets an alien centipede off? A low humming sound filled the air as it got closer and I could feel the short hairs on the backs of my forearms standing up as though I was in a room with an immense generator. My heart was pounding so hard it seemed like it was trying to get out of my chest and run away—which was pretty much what I wanted to do. But one look at Sarden’s long, muscular legs told me he would catch me

before I got three feet from the torture table. My only hope was to change his mind about letting the Commercians test me. “No,” I whispered, my voice almost too dry to speak. “No, please.” But the other four Commercians already had their long, chitinous claws on me and were dragging me over to the table. They pushed me back against the cold, padded part of the table which felt like some kind of slick plastic against my bare skin. They forced my arms down by my sides and I felt my cheeks grow hot with embarrassment as my breasts and the small patch of red curls between my thighs was revealed. Oh God, if this was a nightmare, I needed to wake up now! “Please,” I begged, looking at Sarden, feeling so scared I was sick to my stomach. “Please don’t let them do this to me. I don’t like shots or sparks or being electrocuted. I promise I’m really sensitive—you don’t have to test me to know that.” He frowned but said nothing. “Ready the testing subject,” Bambi declared in his high, piping voice. “Start with one hundred volts and continue from there until maximum pain threshold is reached.” “No!” I gasped as the other side of the table started moving towards me. I could see the silver needles gleaming and the wires were spitting sparks in my direction with an ominous sizzling sound. I couldn’t believe this was actually happening. How could I be hiding in the restroom bitching about my boss to Leah and Charlotte one minute, and strapped to an alien torture table about to have my ta-tas and coochie pierced and electrocuted the next? I wished like hell I was back in the office brewing yet another pot of coffee for Dayton Lauder the third and listening to him yell-talk while he waved his arms and wafted his awful BO everywhere. Suddenly having a stapler thrown at my head didn’t seem so bad. This has to be a dream! It has to be a dream! But so far I wasn’t waking up.

“No, you can’t!” I heard myself begging shamelessly. “You can’t do this to me!” Forget suffering in silence, I’m much more of a plead-for-my-life-at-the-top-ofmy-lungs type of gal. “Please!” I cried again, through a throat that had grown so tight I could hardly get the words out. My eyes were stinging with unshed tears and I felt like my heart was going to gallop right out of my chest. Every nerve in my body was on edge, ready to feel the pain. The tip of one bright, shiny needle was just about to poke my right nipple (my right boob is slightly perkier than my left. Don’t tell me you don’t have one that’s just a little perkier—I won’t believe you. Everybody does.) Anyway, as I was saying, I could feel the cold, sharp tip of the needle just about to pierce my nipple… And then Sarden barked, “Stop!”

Three

Sarden

I don’t know what made me stop the testing. It was certainly true that having a certificate of sensitivity would make the little Earth female easier to trade. And the Gods knew I needed every advantage I could get when dealing with that twofaced bastard, Tazaxx. But still…I couldn’t let it continue. I suppose it was the look on her face…the tears standing in her large, lovely eyes. Throughout the ordeal of being transported and informed that she had been bought and would be leaving her home world and her friends forever, she had remained stubbornly courageous—refusing to cry. I knew many females who would have been weeping and howling long before they were strapped to a testing table but not this little Pure One—only now when she was about to be subjected to intense pain did she allow tears to rise to the surface. I ired her courage, that was all, I told myself. Also, though I am half Vorn and have the horns and markings to prove it, I’m no sadist to take pleasure in the pain of females. My other half—the refined half, as my little sister, Sellah, is always laughingly pointing out—is Eloim. We don’t worship our females as the Majorans do or feel the need to share them in the manner of the Denarins, but neither do we believe they are inferior. “Females are equal to males.” I could almost hear Sellah’s voice echoing in my head. “Just because you’re stronger doesn’t make you any better or smarter!” The thought of my little sister raised an aching pain in my chest. She was the reason I ought to let this testing continue—she was the cause of all this in the first place. But I knew what she would say if she could see me—she wouldn’t want the little Pure One punished or hurt. After all, the Earth female had simply had the bad luck to catch my eye on the Commercians’ light-viewer when they powered up the Alien Mate Index. The mercenary Commercians had showed me many females—flicking first through images of what was considered attractive by Earth standards. Many tall, thin, boney creatures with long, sleek hair and wide eyes had cycled over the light-viewer. They had put me in mind of the graceful tallaths which galloped

with impossibly long, fragile legs over the fields of Yanus Six. With their cool, vacant stares and slender, brittle-looking limbs they did nothing to arouse or excite me. I doubted they would interest Tazaxx either. Then the AMI happened to flicker over this particular female—I realized I didn’t even know her name. Anyway, she had been having a heated discussion with an Earth male—a puny creature in rumpled clothing who shouted and threw something at her head. She ducked, her wild curls flying, and went storming out of the room. Char’noth, the lead Commercian had been about to flip to another subject but I stopped him. “Wait,” I had told him, fascinated by the plump little female. “I want to watch her—this could be the one.” And so she had been taken on my request—because I bought and paid for her. But not just because she was beautiful, I was quick to tell myself. After all, I wasn’t looking for a mate for myself—I was looking for a female that would tempt Tazaxx. I was certain she would do that—watching her with her luscious curves exposed certainly tempted me. And the fact that she was a La-ti-zal could only help. My head was still ringing with the vivid colors she’d shown me when we touched, although my vision had mostly gone back to its usual shades of sepia. At the moment, though, I had other things to think of beside her beauty or her unique abilities. Such as the fact that Char’noth and the other Commercians were staring at me in incomprehension, wondering why I had stopped their sensitivity training. “What is the problem?” Char’noth demanded, his eye stalks wiggling in a way that showed intense displeasure. “The table is all charged—the test will take but a few moments.” “I…er…” I cleared my throat, feeling foolish. “I don’t want my property damaged.” “There will be no damage,” Char’noth protested. “The test is pain through nerve conduction. There will not be a mark on the female when we are finished.” “Yes, but your little test will still hurt like a bastard and I’ve never been interested in causing females pain,” I snapped. “There are other ways to test

sensitivity.” In fact, there were several. I even had an old sensitivity tank back at my ship, if I ed correctly. I had won my ship, The Celesta, in a hand of doubleblind-Trill from an old bastard who’d used to be a science officer for the Assimilation before it had been defeated. Though I had cleaned it out and outfitted it for smuggling, there was still quite a bit of obscure medical equipment left in the hold that I thought I might sell to a collector some day. It would be worth a pretty credit if I could ever find the right buyer. Now, maybe I could put some of it to use. It certainly couldn’t be as painful as what the Commercians had in mind. “But—” Char’noth started to protest. “Let her go,” I growled. “I’m taking her now—I have no more time to waste on you lot.” “Master, don’t forget her documentation!” A.L., still in travel mode, fluttered on my shoulder. He had also come with the ship and his mainframe was located aboard The Celesta. I found it useful to take him with me during trade negotiations. His compact travel form could fit into some very tight spaces so he was good at gathering information and watching my back. “Right—documentation,” I said. “It will be sent directly to your ship,” Char’noth said sullenly. “But first—” “First, nothing. Unstrap her.” I made my voice low and commanding, glaring at Char’noth until he acceded. “Do as he says,” he snapped at his underlings. Muttering angrily in their high voices, the Commercians set about freeing the female. I was fairly certain they’d wanted to do more than just test her sensitivity —they wanted to find a way of identifying other rare and valuable assets like her before transporting them to their base. If they could pinpoint which females were La-ti-zals before they transported them, their profits would treble. Well, too bad —the female was coming with me. I’d lingered long enough around this tiny, benighted blue planet. I needed to get to Tazaxx and make the trade before it was too late. Before he—

I pushed the thought aside as the little Pure One was finally freed of her bonds. She collapsed on the floor, her breath coming in tight gasps. I could tell she was trying hard to hold back her tears. “Come,” I said, lifting her by the arm. I felt a tingle and there was a quick flash of color behind my eyes but it was nothing compared to the jolt I’d experienced earlier. The inhibitor was doing its job—barely. I reminded myself to check it later and see if I couldn’t find something stronger for her to wear in The Celesta’s stores of medical equipment. She had an immense untapped talent— good thing she was still latent or she might have fried my entire nervous system when we touched. “I can’t.” Her legs wobbled and she nearly fell. “What do you mean, you can’t? Will your legs not work?” I lifted her more firmly. She was tiny but substantial, I noted. I liked that—no male wants to be with a female he fears he might break. Not that I planned on being with her, I reminded myself sternly. She was for trade purposes only. “I mean, I can’t go with you. I can’t leave my home and my friends and family. I won’t.” She struggled in my grasp, much to my amusement. It may be true that females are equal to males in intelligence but when it comes to physical strength, we have the upper hand. In this case, I used it. Swinging the struggling female into my arms, I headed for the exit where my short range shuttle was docked. My ship was in orbit around the fourth planet from this system’s sun—Mars I believed the Earthlings called it. It was only a short trip in the shuttle to get there and it was far out of reach of any immediate pursuit from Earth. Not that the ignorant Earthlings knew I was here or even that their planet was being harvested. But even if they had, there was nothing they could do about it. For a moment I felt a stab of pity, ing all the innocent, unknowing faces I’d seen on the AMI. None of those females knew they might be taken and transported at any moment. Stripped of their identities and sold to the highest bidder—the male with the most credit looking for an expensive, exotic plaything or a bride with the finest pedigree the Universe could offer…

Then I pushed the emotion away. There was no point in feeling bad for the Earthlings—they’d done this to themselves. Dissolved the lock around their planet little by little until finally the Commercians were able to take not just one or two people but as many as they liked and as often as they liked. There were going to be a hell of a lot of disappearances down on that little blue ball—soon the inhabitants would be paying for their carelessness. But that had nothing to do with me. The little Earth female I had picked, however, did. And she was currently doing her best to wriggle free of my grasp. “No! No, put me down! I said I’m not going with you!” She beat against my chest with her little fists and her eyes were bright with unshed tears. Because of our proximity, I could see her in her natural tones—her hair was a deep shade of red like Proxian rubies and her pale, lovely skin was dusted with little specks of pigmentation that should have been detrimental to her appearance. Instead, I found them charming—I wondered what they were called. They were especially thick across the bridge of her petite nose which was currently wrinkled in anger. “I said let me go!” she cried, struggling in my arms. I liked the feel of her soft body close to mine and the way her full, bare breasts heaved as she moved. Her nipples were a soft, innocent pink and the little patch of curls that decorated her mound was the same color as the flaming strands on her head. I felt my shaft harden as I considered if she had other pink areas I might like to explore. Before my lust could carry me too far though, one of her flailing hands caught me across the face, causing me to jerk back with a growl. “Careful, little Pure One,” I told her, tightening my grip. “My patience isn’t limitless.” She stopped struggling abruptly and contented herself with just glaring at me. “You… you Devil-looking son of a bitch!” she spat. I tried not to smile. It amused me that she compared me to the fallen deity that tortured her people after death. My own version of damnation was The Pit and I had long ago accepted that I would go there after death. A male can’t commit the acts I have and not have a soul so stained even the Goddess of Mercy would turn

her face from him. I was probably adding to my burden of sins at the moment but I told myself I didn’t care—I was doing what was necessary. What was right, even if it might not look that way to an outsider. “Call me what you want,” I told her, going through the airlock and settling her in the interior of my shuttle. “But the fact is, you’re coming with me, little Pure One. And there is nothing you can say or do to stop it.”

Four

Zoe

Sarden got me settled in some kind of a spaceship looking thing—at least that was what I assumed it was. There was a complicated looking control with lots of blinking instruments that looked like a high-tech plane cockpit. I considered grabbing them and pulling as many levers and pushing as many buttons as I could but two things stopped me. The first was that I could see space outside—cold, dead, empty space. (Well, empty except for the moon floating by. It was way bigger than I could ever seeing it which made sense—I’d never been this close to it before.) What if I accidentally pushed the wrong button and opened the window? I would freeze and my eyeballs would bulge out and explode. At least, that was what happened on that awful scifi horror movie my ex-boyfriend had made me watch. He’d said it was a classic—what was it called again? Oh yeah, Event Horizon. Don’t get me wrong—I actually love science fiction but I’m not a big fan of horror movies. Especially horror movies where people’s eyeballs explode. The second thing that kept me from trying a little space-sabotage was the fact that Sarden strapped me into the seat—and I do mean strapped. As in, he made sure the weirdly modified seatbelt harness—which seemed way too big for me at first—fit over my arms, fastening them securely to my sides. My bare boobs stuck out between the straps and I thought I had never felt so exposed. Then he reached between my legs. “Hey!” I kicked out, trying to get free. “Don’t touch me, you big red pervert!” “What’s the problem now?” he growled, looking irritated. Which at least was an improvement over his general air of amusement when I’d struggled to get free of his arms earlier, with absolutely zero results. “What’s the problem? I don’t know how it is on your planet but on Earth you can’t just grope somebody like that!” I snapped, pressing my thighs together as tightly as I could.

“Grope you?” He looked at me as if it was honestly the last thing on his mind. “I’m simply trying to fasten you into the shuttle so you aren’t injured during our flight to my ship.” “Yeah, right—by strapping me down naked and reaching between my legs?” I demanded. He glared at me. “Should I assume you’d rather be strapped to the Commercians’ testing table?” Well, that shut me up—almost, anyway. It was true that he’d made them stop the testing. But then, I wouldn’t have been in a position to be experimented on by a bunch of blue alien worms if he hadn’t told them to snatch me in the first place! “Fine,” I muttered. “But just don’t make the straps so tight. And don’t touch me, uh, there.” “You mean here?” His voice dropped to a soft growl and his long fingers stroked the tops of my thighs, making me squirm. “Stop,” I whispered, wishing my voice didn’t sound so breathless. “Little Pure One…” “Zoe,” I interrupted him. “You abduct a girl, you should at least ask her name. My name is Zoe—not ‘little one’ or ‘Pure One’ or anything like that. Just Zoe.” “Zzzoooeee…” He rolled my name thoughtfully on his tongue. “I like it. It fits you, somehow.” “Unlike this damn harness you’re putting on me,” I snapped. “It has to be tight to withstand the forces the shuttle will undergo during our trip,” he said. “But I’m just strapping you in—I won’t harm or molest you, Zoe.” His golden eyes grew hard. “I may be an evil, half-breed son of a bitch but I’m no rapist.” “How do I know that’s true?” I demanded, and realized I’d said the wrong thing when his face went darker red and his eyes flashed.

“You don’t,” he growled. “You’ll just have to trust me. Or not—I don’t care. Now spread your legs and let me fit the straps to your body. I don’t want to hurt you by forcing them open—your flesh is so delicate I’m sure it bruises easily and—” “And Tazaxx doesn’t take damaged merchandise. Right, I got that,” I finished for him. He looked somewhat surprised. “Exactly. So will you open for me or not?” The look on his face told me I had little choice in the matter. “Fine, you big, red pervert,” I muttered. “But I swear if you so much as touch me, I’ll…I’ll…” “You’ll what?” He sounded amused again which pissed me off even more. “I’ll wait until you’re not looking and kick you so hard you’ll be wearing your balls for a bowtie—if you even have balls, that is!” I snapped. “In fact, I do,” he said, conversationally. “Since I, like yourself and many sentient species in the universe, am descended from the Ancient Ones, I have much of the same anatomy an Earth male would have, including balls and a shaft.” Okay, we were getting into uncomfortable territory here—both literally and figuratively. But I couldn’t help asking, “If you’ve all got the blood of the Ancient Ones, why is Earth so special?” “Because as we told you earlier, only on Earth has their original DNA been preserved. Not only preserved but sown with seeds of greatness—hidden talents like your own.” “About that…” I shifted uncomfortably as he started to reach for the straps between my legs again. “I think you must be mistaken. I don’t have any hidden talents. Like, I don’t have visions of the future or hear people’s thoughts and I can’t move things with my mind—I mean, I’m not a freaking X-man, okay?” He looked at me as if I was crazy.

“Who said anything about your talent affecting you, Zoe? It’s the way in which you affect others that makes you so damn special. Now be still and let me finish getting you in the harness before the Commercians think of some legal way to get you back on their testing table.” I shut up then and let him finish strapping me in, though I really didn’t like it. Or I told myself, I didn’t. I should have hated his touch on my skin—this was abduction and it might turn into something a hell of a lot more in a minute, despite his claim that he wasn’t a rapist. Still, the way he was leaning over me, I could feel his warm breath against my bare breasts. And despite his harsh words, the touch of his big hands was gentle. There was a scent around him too—a warm smell, like a campfire burning. And under it was something else—some musk that was clean and crisp and somehow completely male. I didn’t know what it was but it made me feel dizzy to breathe it in. I told myself I didn’t care—that I hated him. That I hated this. I tried to hold absolutely still as he fastened the straps, not moving an inch even when his knuckles brushed against the soft curls on my mound. I did gasp at that point though—even though I tried not to. “Sorry.” He shook his head and muttered to himself. The only words I caught were ‘extremely sensitive and ‘testing,’ which made me go rigid in my seat, like I wasn’t stiff enough already. “What?” I demanded in a voice that came out in more of a squeak. “I thought you weren’t going to let them test me!” “I won’t let the Commercians test you, no,” he said, frowning. “But you will have to be tested before I can trade you. Don’t worry—I’ll manage it myself.” This hardly made me feel any better. I couldn’t help wondering if he had a scary, pointy testing table of his own back at his ship. I kept quiet through the rest of the harnessing process, even though the metal buckle was pressed right against my crotch in a very cold and uncomfortable way. “There,” Sarden said at last, looking pleased with his handiwork. “You’re secure.”

Secure my ass. Trussed up like a Christmas turkey was more like it, but what could I do? He settled himself in his own seat, getting his own harness fastened much quicker than he’d done mine. Then he did something to the controls and a rush of cold air blasted through the small cockpit, making me shiver uncontrollably. “Oh m-my G-God,” I gasped out, my teeth chattering. “What’s wrong? Why are you trembling?” he demanded, frowning at me. “B-because it’s suddenly f-f-freezing in here, that’s why!” I exclaimed. I couldn’t even get my hands up to rub some warmth into my arms and legs. Everything seemed to be going numb and cold. Sarden frowned, a look of concern coming over his sharp features. “It’s simply the ship’s drivers warming up. But I see that you’re more delicate than I had hoped. Very well—here.” He pulled his shirt over his head, baring an absolutely mouth-watering torso. Forget a six-pack—this guy had an eight-pack of pure, hard muscle. Not that I could enjoy looking at it when I felt like I was getting frostbite in all my extremities—not to mention my nipples which felt like they had turned into little pointy ice cubes. “What are you—” I started but then he draped the black fabric of his shirt over me, making sure to cover as much of me as possible. Immediately, I felt a wave of warmth rush over me. It tingled from my neck all the way down to my toes, even though the shirt didn’t reach that far. “Better?” Sarden demanded, frowning at me. “Yes, but how?” I looked down at the shirt. It was a sleeveless t-shirt looking thing and the fabric was thin. Any of his body heat it had held should have dissipated almost immediately in the chilly cabin. Yet it continued to radiate warmth that seemed to penetrate my entire body. “It’s made of temp-fabric,” Sarden explained, seeing my confusion. “It retains

and radiates heat during conditions of extreme cold. It also cools the wearer off when it gets too hot.” “Sounds like something we could use in Tampa,” I murmured, looking down at myself. “But won’t you be cold?” He shrugged, his broad, muscular shoulders doing that sexy, yummy roll I really needed to ignore. He was my captor and kidnapper, after all, the big, dumb jerk. “I’ll be fine—it’s just a short trip to my ship. We’re only going to the planet you call Mars.” “What?” I nearly choked. “We’re only going to Mars? Do you know how long it would take to get there from Earth? Especially if the orbits aren’t aligned. Months and months—I mean—” He looked at me pityingly. “It might take that long for your puny Earth vessels but not for my shuttle.” He patted the dashboard fondly. “And my ship is ten times faster. The Celesta has a hydrogen scoop hyper-drive.” “Meaning what?” I demanded. “Sorry but quantum mechanics wasn’t offered as an elective at my school.” “Meaning that it’s capable of faster than light travel. Much faster than light.” He grinned, showing white teeth almost as sharp as the horns growing out of his temples. “Which further means I’ll be trading you to Tazaxx before you know it.” “Um…Master.” The golden dragonfly, which had fluttered up and out of the way when he took off his shirt, settled on his shoulder and fanned its wings in agitation. “What is it, A.L.?” he growled. I wondered what the initials stood for but before I could ask the dragonfly fluttered again. “About the hyper-drive, Master,” its voice said. “Yes?” Sarden’s voice was dangerously quiet. “Well…it…I hate to be the bearer of bad news…”

“Just spit it out, A.L.,” he growled. “It’s malfunctioning. It’s only at fifty percent at the moment and levels are dropping as we speak.” “What?” Why didn’t you tell me before?” Sarden demanded. “Well, you may recall that I warned something like this might happen some time ago. The s in the scooping mechanism are warped and have needed repair or replacement for some time and—” “Repair. Fine, I’ll repair them.” Sarden sighed as though repairing his spaceship was a boring chore you put off as long as you could—like taking out the trash or dusting the stuff in the china cabinet. “I don’t know if repairs will work at this point.” A.L.’s butler voice sounded apologetic. “Or they may work but only temporarily. Not long enough to get us to Giedi Prime.” “Damn it, A.L.—you know we have to get there before the auction!” Sarden growled, his eyes flashing deeper gold. “If we don’t—” “I am aware, Master.” The dragonfly fluttered again. “Forgive me—I am running a full diagnostic now. Hopefully I will have more information for you when we reach the ship.” “Let’s go then.” As he spoke, Sarden did something to one of the instruments on the control . Suddenly we were whizzing forward at an incredible speed. I gasped, the sound ripped from me as what felt like a huge, invisible hand pressed me back against my seat. From the corner of my eye I caught my last glimpse of Earth—a round blue marble floating in the blackness of space. Then it was gone and I wondered if I would ever see it again.

Sarden

I gritted my teeth in irritation as I locked the shuttle on course and steered towards the tiny desert planet the Earthlings called Mars. I’d known that the s on the hydrogen scoop were warping—there was no way they couldn’t at the rate I’d been pushing The Celesta lately. But I hadn’t had time to deal with it—I’d had a lot on my mind. Like finding the right item to trade to Tazaxx for one. It had to be perfect—something special and unique or he wouldn’t even consider it. Tazaxx is one of the slimiest crime lords in the galaxy—I ought to know, I’ve smuggled for him often enough. But he has a weakness for beauty and for oneof-a-kind items no one owns but him. In the little Pure One strapped into the seat beside me, I believed I had found what I needed—something Tazaxx absolutely couldn’t resist. Only that something was actually a someone, a fact I was trying strenuously to ignore as I piloted the shuttle closer to Mars. There are plenty of smugglers who make their living in the slave trade, dealing rare and exotic inhabitants from distant planets to the rich, wealthy investors who collected them. I wasn’t one of them. My soul might be stained but that was one sin I’d tried to avoid. Now I couldn’t help it. There was no other way—not if I was going to get Sellah back. But that would only happen if I could reach Tazaxx before he held his annual auction. If he decided he didn’t want her, if she got auctioned off to the highest bidder, perhaps one who lived on the far flung reaches of the universe where he could never be found, then Sellah might be lost forever. No. I tightened my grip on the steering yoke, refusing to accept that possibility. I would not be too late. Somehow or other I would reach Giedi Prime in time. And as for the little Pure One… I shot a glance at her from the corner of my eye. She was staring out the viewscreen at the side of the shuttle, her gaze trained on

her planet, now just a speck in the blackness. Her chin was still lifted defiantly but her eyes were wide and I thought I saw a glimmer of unshed tears in them as she watched her home world disappear forever. I would have told anyone who asked I didn’t have a heart or a conscience—a smuggler has no need of either one. Then why did I feel a stab of guilt as I watched her try to put on a brave face while I took her away from everything she’d ever known? I turned to face the viewscreen, concentrating on my instruments as I pushed the emotion ruthlessly away. This was the only way—I had no other choice. Though I felt like the worst kind of scum for doing it, Zoe would have to be traded.

Five

Zoe

We got to Mars faster than I could get to the nearest WalMart from my apartment back home. Not that I go there a lot, but sometimes in the middle of the night when there’s nothing else open and you have a craving for some Ben and Jerry’s, you have to go. The nice part is, you don’t even have to change out of your PJs if you don’t want to. I have personally been guilty of wearing my favorite sweats and my sleepy bear t-shirt to Wally World and nobody even looks twice. Of course, the sloppy sweats and t-shirt were a hell of a lot more decent than what I had on now, which was just Sarden’s temperature regulating wife-beater t-shirt draped over my more sensitive areas. I wondered if he was going to give me anything else to wear once we reached his ship, or if I was just supposed to wander around naked, clutching my boobs and crossing my legs constantly. I was really tired of being naked. The red curve of Mars was barely looming in the windshield before we zipped around its side and came to a long, needle-shaped ship with a big round bulge at one end of it. Maybe that was the hydrogen scoop thingy Sarden had been talking about? We were coming in so fast I thought we would crash right into it. A scream was rising in my throat but just at the last moment, the shuttle slowed down dramatically and its nose just barely kissed the side of the huge, needle-shaped ship. At once, a hole irised open on the silver skin of the ship and our little shuttle was sucked inside. It gave me the creepy sensation of being sucked into a toothless mouth but before I could protest, we were in. The shuttle settled with a soft sigh and Sarden flipped off the ignition—or whatever it was that turned it off and on. He pressed a button and the doors on either side swooped up—kind of like a DeLorean’s. He hopped out and was about to just leave me there when I shouted at him.

“Hey! Are you just going to leave me strapped in here or what?” “Oh…” He turned back, as though I was the last thing on his mind. “Sorry. A.L. —take care of her.” I was wondering how the golden dragonfly could manage the complicated straps holding me in place. But the dragonfly flew away—upward into the dim recesses of the metal ceiling. A opened and it flew inside. Well how was it going to help me up there? Before I could yell at Sarden’s retreating back to ask him, a long, thin, manyted silver arm with a six clawed hand came down out of the same towards me. I screamed, of course, because I don’t like it when metal claws come at me from out of the ceiling. I’m funny like that. Though Sarden had been doing his best impression of the disappearing man—or disappearing alien, I guess—he turned and came charging back at once. “What in the Frozen Hells of Anor is wrong now?” he demanded in a low, irritated growl. “What do you mean, what’s wrong? You leave me strapped down and helpless and then a long metal claw arm starts reaching for me!” I exclaimed. “What do you think is wrong? I don’t want to die! That’s what’s wrong!” “Die?” He looked at the silver, many-ted arm and frowned. “Don’t be foolish —that’s just A.L.” “My deepest apologies.” Suddenly another flexible metal arm came down but this one was topped by a thin rectangular box with a round blinking light in the center. Almost like an eye, I thought. The same proper English butler voice that had been coming from the gold dragonfly was now emanating from the box. “I am so sorry—I did not mean to frighten you, Lady Zoe.” “I thought you were a dragonfly,” I told it. “What are you, anyway?” “I am the computing system which runs this ship,” A.L. said. “Do you not have such things on your planet?”

“Only in science fiction movies,” I told him. I looked at Sarden who was watching our little exchange impatiently. “You could have warned me, you know.” “How was I to know your people are so primitive you don’t even have artificial life-forms? I don’t have time for this,” he growled, looking really irritated now. “Are you well or do I have to unstrap you myself?” I thought of the heat of his big, warm body leaning over me, the spicy scent of his skin, and the tingling feeling I got when his long fingers brushed against my more sensitive areas. Then I looked at the six, long metal claws on the end of A.L.’s arm. “I’ll take the claw,” I said through gritted teeth. “Fine. Then I have to go see to the hydrogen scoop.” He turned again but I called after him. “And what am I supposed to do?” “I don’t care.” He made a dismissive gesture. “Wander the ship if you want. Just keep out of trouble. Oh…” He turned to face me once more briefly and stabbed a finger at me. “But don’t go into the storage area at the rear. It’s dangerous.” “Dangerous for who? Dangerous how?” I demanded but he was already gone, his broad, red back disappearing through the sliding metal doors I swear reminded me of every Star Trek episode I ever watched with my dad when I was a little girl. “If you’ll allow me to unfasten your harness, perhaps I can take you on a brief tour of the ship,” A.L.’s proper butler voice said in my ear. I jumped when I saw that his round light was blinking right by my face—almost as if he was examining me. “Okay, sure,” I muttered. “Just…be careful, okay? Those claws of yours look awfully sharp and some of my most delicate areas are pretty exposed here.” “Of course—I will proceed with utmost caution,” he announced. Before I could answer, he had pulled the black shirt aside and was clicking the metal buckles

that held the harness in place. To my great relief, it popped open quickly and I was able to stretch out my cramped arms and legs. There was nothing else to wear, so I pulled Sarden’s black t-shirt over my head. It warmed me up immediately and fit like a very snug mini-dress. I didn’t love that—normally I wouldn’t mind showing off my curves but this wasn’t one of those times. Still, it was the best I could do and better than nothing although I wished fiercely I could have a bra and panties to go under it. It smelled like him too—that warm, spicy, campfire smell that seemed to get in my head and make me dizzy. I tried to ignore it as I hopped out of the shuttle and followed A.L. out of the docking area. “So you’re an artificial life-form?” I asked him as he hummed along, his round, blinking light-eye glowing like a lantern. The metal arm it was connected to slid neatly through the silver ceiling s which parted with a ripple as he went and closed behind him seamlessly. I wondered what kind of alien technology allowed metal to flow like water. Then again, the fact that they were able to suck me through a mirror was even more impressive. “I am indeed, Lady Zoe,” he answered in his prim and proper voice. “And is that what A. L. stands for?” I asked. “Artificial life-form?” “Yes.” “And you don’t have any other name?” I asked curiously. “Do I need one?” His proper butler voice sounded curious. “Master Sarden acquired me along with the rest of the ship in a game of chance. He has never bothered to give me any other name but I did not think I required one.” “Everyone needs a name,” I said. “I’d name you Alfred, I think—that’s a good butler-type name. Al for short, which also goes with your initials.” “Alfred.” He sounded cautiously pleased. “I think I like that, though I am not sure what a butler is.” I explained briefly and Al got excited—in a mechanical kind of way.

“Yes—one who serves. This exactly encomes my directive.” His round eyelight blinked excitedly. “Thank you, Lady Zoe. I shall be pleased to be your butler, Al.” “Just Zoe is fine,” I said, smiling a little at his enthusiasm. “Last time I looked I was just a girl from Tampa—not landed gentry or anything.” “Oh, but you must be accorded a title of respect,” Al told me seriously. “You have no idea, I think, of how very rare and special you are. You are the first Pure One to be officially taken from your planet. And you are a La-ti-zal as well.” “Whatever that means,” I muttered. I still thought it was a load of hogwash. “Okay, where are we?” I had been following Al through a narrow maze of metal corridors that made me feel kind of claustrophobic. But now they had opened out into one long, wide hallway which seemed to run the length of the ship. “To the left is the navcom and the control area.” Al’s blinking light indicated the long metal age with a nod. “To the right are areas for sleeping, eating, and entertainment. I believe these areas will be more to your interest. If you would follow me?” “What if I don’t want to follow you? What if I want to see the control area?” I asked. “Well, it is not forbidden, but I do not think you would know how to use any of the equipment. And even if you could, it would be impossible since all controls are voice locked to Master Sarden,” Al explained. I sighed. No wonder Sarden felt free to let me wander around—I couldn’t affect anything since the whole ship responded only to him. So much for my fantasies of getting in the cockpit, turning the ship around and flying back to Earth. Somehow in science fiction movies, the heroes are always able to figure out the alien tech and use it against the invaders. But I had to it, though I hated to, that I wasn’t a techy kind of girl. Half the time I don’t understand everything my smartphone is doing. As complicated as the shuttle had looked, I didn’t think I had a chance of learning to fly the huge, needleshaped spacecraft. Anyway, if it was locked to Sarden’s voice, then there was no

way I could do anything—even if I’d been the geekiest science-freak around. No, if I was going to get out of this predicament, it wasn’t going to be by learning to fly a spaceship. I would have to appeal to Sarden’s good side—if he had one, the big red jerk. I had to make him see me as more than a prisoner or a trading commodity. I had to make him see me as a person. I had read an article about that once—about a girl who got kidnapped by some guys who wanted to hold her for ransom. She turned the situation around and made friends with her captors. They liked her so much they let her go without a scratch on her—she did a kind of reverse Stockholm syndrome thing on them. That’s what I would have to do—reverse Stockholm the shit out of this situation until Big Red wanted to take me back to Earth. Which meant I was going to have to be a hell of a lot more charming than I usually was. Well, crap. Still, it was the only thing I could think of—Plan A. I had to put it into motion and the first thing to do was to find out more about my captor. I thought I had an idea of where to start. “Take me to the sleeping quarters,” I told Al. “I’m, uh, kind of tired. I’d like to lie down.” “You have, of course, had a very stressful experience, being transported from your home world.” Al sounded almost as if he cared. I wondered if he really somehow did or if it was just good programming. “I have.” I manufactured a yawn. “I’m really tired.” “Come this way.” His glowing light-eye led me down the corridor, pointing out various other areas along the way. “This is the food prep and dining area, where you may simulate yourself any kind of comestibles for your gustatory enjoyment.” “Nice,” I murmured, taking a quick look as we went by. I caught a glimpse of a long bar against one wall with tall stools bolted to the table and a strange gold cylinder that looked like the world’s biggest stock pot with lots of brightly colored wires coming from it.

“And here is our entertainment area,” Al continued, his light nodding to another area as we ed. “Here you can enjoy written, recorded, or holographic entertainments to the time during space travel.” “Holographic?” The thought made me come to a screeching stop. “Like the holo-deck on Star Trek?” “I am not familiar with the entertainment you mention,” Al said. “I mean, is it a big room where you can imagine any scenario and the computer creates everything to go along with it so you can play out your wildest fantasies?” The thought made me almost salivate with excitement. I thought of all the fantasies I could play out. I would instruct Al to a copy of Outlander by Diana Gabaldon and I would be Claire and he could simulate me a sexy, Scottish Jamie…or I could be Beth from J.R. Ward’s Dark Lover novel and he could simulate the hot vampire king, Wrath. (Can you tell I read a lot of romance?) Or I might just play out a Sherlock Holmes scenario like they did in the Next Generation— the one where Moriarty got out and nearly took over The Enterprise? (God, I am such a geek.) But if I did Sherlock Holmes, I decided, I would definitely play Watson and have Al simulate Holmes as Benedict Cumberbatch. Because how hot is he? Yum! It would be the first time that Watson actually jumped Holmes’ bones instead of just helping with his cases. Well, the first time outside of fan fiction anyway… Or, leaving the book fantasies behind, I could just be a rich and famous model, walking the catwalk in fabulous clothes. Okay, I know I said I own my curves and I do. But just once it would be nice to be effortlessly skinny, you know? I’d like to see how it felt to be a size three with paparazzi all around, salivating for a glimpse of my sexy hip bones… “Ah…I am afraid not. The holograph projector simply shows images of different areas of the known universe. You are not able to interact with them.” Al’s proper butler voice brought me crashing down to Earth. Or to the spaceship, anyway.

“Damn.” To say I was super disappointed is an understatement. For a minute, I’d almost felt like it was worth being abducted by aliens. I’ve always wanted my own private holo-deck. But oh well, on with the plan. “I am sorry if you find the entertainment facilities lacking,” Al said apologetically. “Never mind.” I sighed. “Just take me to my room, please.” “With pleasure, Lady Zoe.” He led the way down the corridor until we came to a row of sliding metal doors. “This will be your room for the duration of our trip.” Al motioned at the last door on the left. “Simply wave your hand to break the beam and the door will open.” I didn’t see any beam (maybe it was invisible?) but I waved my hand in front of the door he’d indicated anyway and sure enough, it slid open with a nearly silent whoosh. Inside was a metal counter about waist high, a single chair, and a large silver bean bag floating about three feet off the floor. It was really long and looked like it had been built for someone Sarden’s size, so it was going to be like sleeping in a king sized bed for me. “Whoa…” I walked forward and put my hand out to touch the silver material of the bag. It was soft as silk under my fingers. “How cool is this? A hoverbed!” “It works by simple principles of magnetic deflection,” Al said modestly. “It gives excellent while cushioning your whole body.” “I can’t wait to try it,” I said and I really wasn’t lying. By now, you can probably tell I’m kind of a Scifi geek. If I hadn’t been captured with the express intent of being sold off to some alien trader in a galaxy far, far away, being aboard a genuine space ship would have been a dream come true. “There are bathing facilities as well. Here.” Al glided further into the room and then into a smaller doorway set in the wall opposite the bed. I followed him, wondering what alien bathroom fixtures looked like. I really hoped they had a

recognizable toilet—it would be super awkward to have to ask Al how to use it if I couldn’t figure it out just by looking. But it wasn’t the toilet that caught my eye when I went into the bathroom. There was a rectangular enclosure filled with clear, pale purple liquid standing in the center of the room. It was about five feet wide by five feet across and enclosed by a clear barrier that might have been glass or plastic or some alien material I had never heard of. It was tall, too—reaching almost to the high metal ceiling overhead. “What’s this?” I asked, eyeing it in confusion. “The pool of personal cleansing. Do you not have such things on Earth?” Al asked, sounding confused. “Do you not bathe?” “Of course we bathe!” I exclaimed. “But we usually take a shower or a bath.” “A bath—as in you submerse yourself in water or cleansing liquids?” “Well, yes, but—” “Then you should feel right at home! The PPC is for exactly that purpose. Simply slide open the entrance hatch…” He indicated a sliding door on one side of the clear enclosure. “And step inside to be thoroughly cleansed.” I frowned. “Are you trying to tell me this thing is a huge vertical bathtub? How can you open the door without all the, uh, water—is that water? Anyway, without it going everywhere?” “There is a moisture repellant field around it which keeps the cleansing liquid in of course,” Al said, as though it should have been obvious. “I really must learn more about your home world. How do your people keep cleansing liquids contained?” “With good old fashioned gravity, mostly. I mean, we use uh, horizontal bathtubs, not vertical ones,” I said. “But then, how are you able to submerse yourself fully and completely?” “We don’t.” I shivered as I looked at the alien “bathtub.” As I said, the enclosure

was tall—a lot taller than me. If I got into the purple pool, it would be over my head—way over. Just the thought gave me a nauseous, squirmy feeling in the pit of my stomach. I ed the last time water had closed over my head…looking up through the murky blue light, panicking at the thought that I would never break the surface again as the chlorine burned my throat and my lungs filled with liquid. And then there was Angie… I pushed the memory away, feeling sick. “Look, I’m not trying to be difficult but do you have any other way to clean yourself around here?” I asked Al. “I’m, uh, afraid I don’t swim and it looks like that stuff would be…would be over my head.” “We do have a misting chamber for refreshment although I do not recommend it for everyday use. It simply will not be able to get you completely clean.” “Misting chamber sounds great,” I said, ignoring his warning. After all, it wasn’t like I was planning to do any heavy lifting or hard work outs while I was here. A light shower should be able to get me clean and even if it couldn’t, there was no way I was getting into that huge vat of purple liquid. “This way.” Al led me to something that looked kind of like a shower stall back home but without a shower head. In fact, I didn’t see any knobs or nozzles at all. “Uh, how do you work it?” I asked, frowning. “Simply disrobe and step inside. The mister will activate on sensing your presence.” “Okay.” That seemed straightforward enough. “And, uh, your restroom facilities?” I asked, feeling embarrassed. I hoped they weren’t weird—by this time I really needed to pee. Being abducted and dragged through a mirror onto an alien spaceship tends to do that to me. “This way.” Al showed me to another small alcove which had what looked like a silver chair with a solid bottom. Like the silver beanbag bed, it was large— obviously built for someone a lot bigger than a regular human. But there was no hole in the middle of it. No place for anything to go, if you know what I mean.

“Uh…” Just what I was afraid of—I was going to have to ask for an explanation. “Simply remove any encumbrances to elimination and seat yourself upon the waste disposal unit,” Al said helpfully. “The center will open for your convenience and remove the products of elimination via air suction.” He nodded at a grouping of three silver buttons mounted on the wall beside the unit. “There are three suction strengths to choose from, depending on your need.” Okay,” I said again. “That all sounds nice but I don’t see any, uh, toilet paper.” “Toilet paper?” Al sounded like he was frowning in confusion. “What is that?” I could feel my cheeks going red. I’m a private bathroom person so I’ve never liked talking about this kind of thing—not even to a robot, or whatever Al was. It’s embarrassing. “It’s this soft roll of paper—that is, thin sheets of disposable material—that we use to, um, clean up after the elimination process,” I told him. “Oh! Well, rest assured you have no need of such primitive methods here. The waste disposal unit will clean and dry you after each use.” “Wow. Sounds great,” I said flatly. I didn’t love the idea of the unit “cleaning” me but then, it seemed like I had no choice. Maybe it would just be like an alien bidet. That would be okay, I guessed. “I am so glad you are pleased,” Al said. “Sure. Very pleased. Okay, well…I think I’d like to, uh, try it out. Now,” I hinted as strongly as I could. I was nearly crossing my legs with the need to pee by now. I shouldn’t have had two cups of coffee that morning while my boss was throwing staplers at my head. God, that seemed about a million years ago now. “By all means. Be my guest,” Al said politely. But he didn’t leave—his lanternlike eye just kept hovering there right in front of me, as if he expected me to go with him watching me. “Al,” I said at last, my exasperation overcoming my embarrassment. “I don’t

know how Sarden’s people do this kind of thing but for humans it’s private.” “Oh. Of course—forgive me.” His lantern light-eye flickered in acknowledgement. “Shall I withdraw to the next room and wait for you?” “Actually…” I cleared my throat. “Actually, I’m really tired, like I said. After I, uh, take care of business, I’ll probably just go lie down for a nap. So you can help Sarden do…whatever it is he’s doing. I’ll be fine.” “I see.” Was it my imagination or did he sound a little hurt? “You want privacy and solitude.” “Something like that,” I said, gritting my teeth and crossing my legs. I didn’t want to hurt his feelings but I really had to go. I swear, if he doesn’t leave soon… Luckily, Al finally got the hint. “Very well, Lady Zoe. I will check on you later. For now, I wish you a very pleasant waste elimination experience.” “Thanks,” I said tightly. “I’m sure it’s going to be just fabulous.” God, I was about to explode. “Goodbye for now.” Al finally withdrew, his snaky metal neck sliding through the ceiling and away from the little alcove the strange alien toilet was located in. The minute he was gone I pulled up the black t-shirt and plopped down on the flat bottom of the silver toilet-chair. At first nothing happened and I was afraid I would have to go pee in the sink or the mister or anyplace else that had a drain. But just as I was about to get up, I ed the three silver buttons Al had pointed out for “suction needs.” One had a small dot on it, the second had a slightly larger one, and the third had a large black dot that filled almost the whole button. At that point I had to go so bad I thought I was going to die. Without hesitating, I pushed the far button with the biggest dot, thinking that since I really had to go, that would be the right choice. It was the wrong choice. The wrongest choice possible.

A hole in the seat of the silver toilet irised open and immediately an incredibly strong, cold wind started sucking at me. how I said the toilet was big —like it was built for a species of people way bigger than human? Well, despite my much more than generous ass, the hole was plenty big enough to suck me in. And the suction was so strong, that was exactly what it started to do. I could actually feel myself folding in half like I was doing some kind of crazy bend in yoga class, and being sucked down into the wide hole in the silver toilet. “Oh…Oh my God! No! Help!” I blurted, grabbing at the walls, since there was nothing else to hold on to. Was this the end? Was this how I died? Sucked down into the depths of an alien toilet and probably ejected into space? “Help!” I cried again. “Lady Zoe?” Suddenly I heard Al’s voice right outside the alcove. “Are you quite well? Master Sarden heard a disturbance and sent me to check.” I was about to scream that no, I was not well, I was about to be flushed like a used burrito, when my grasping hand happened to hit another one of the silver buttons—the one with the tiny dot on it. At once the suction eased and I found I was able to extricate myself from the grip of the monstrous alien toilet. I stood up quickly, almost expecting to hear a pop like a cork coming out of a wine bottle. There was no such noise but at least I was free. “I…I’m fine,” I lied shakily to Al, since I didn’t want to explain what had almost happened. Not to him and especially not to Sarden. “Oh, good. I just wanted to warn you that you might not want to use the facilities set on the highest suction level just at the moment. When Master Sarden is working on the hydrogen scoop, it tends to send some of the ship’s functions into flux.” “Now you tell me,” I muttered. And then louder, “Uh, thanks. I’ll be sure to only use the, uh, light suction for now.” “Very good.” There was a nearly silent hum and I had a mental picture of Al gliding away again, his lantern-eye glowing as he went about his business. I was left standing there, still having to pee. Because as strong as the suction had

been a moment ago, I hadn’t let go of a drop. Probably because my body had immediately shut down ‘let’s pee now’ mode and gone into ‘let’s not get sucked into space through the toilet’ mode instead. So I still really had to go—but could I trust this thing a second time? Mistrustfully, I eyed the toilet, which seemed perfectly normal now. It was sitting there peacefully, barely sucking at all. I wished I was back in the bathroom stall at Lauder, Lauder and Associates—it might be a lousy job but at least I knew I could take a pee break without getting killed. Still, this was what I had to deal with. My screaming bladder decided me. I would go—I would just have to be really careful. Gingerly, I sat down again, keeping as far to the front of the silver metal seat as I could. The suction was still slight—barely noticeable. It seemed safe enough—I decided to take a chance. It took me a while to unclench but finally I was able to pee. Ahhh… I moaned in silent relief. There’s nothing to make a tense situation worse than having to pee. Ever sit in the dentist chair and realize you really have to go in the middle of a root canal? Well multiply that times a hundred and you’ll know how I felt being trapped on an alien spaceship going who knows where in the universe with a full bladder. When I was finally finished, I wasn’t sure what to do. Was there another button somewhere to engage the, uh, cleaning mechanism for want of a better word? As I was looking around, I felt something cold and damp come up from below and swipe at me. It felt like the Creature from the Black Lagoon had made a grab for my coochie. “Ahh!” Though Al had warned me about the toilet’s cleaning function, I still nearly jumped out of my skin. I almost fell off the seat but just then the cold, damp thing retreated and I was buffeted by a blast of hot air instead. Wow—Al hadn’t been kidding. I was clean and dry in no time. Clean and dry but not happy. The simple act of using the bathroom felt like an assault. I was pretty sure it was going to take me a while to get used to the whole process but it didn’t look like I had much of a choice.

I got up, straightening my t-shirt mini-dress as well as I could, and hobbled out of the bathroom, trying to ignore the giant purple vertical bathtub as I went. I might be stuck using the alien toilet but there was no way in hell I was going to take a bath in that drowning tank-looking thing. Just a glance at it made me shiver. The huge silver beanbag was still hovering invitingly in mid air, about three feet off the ground. The scifi geek in me wanted to try it in the worst way. But I hadn’t maneuvered to have time alone just to lie around in bed. If I wanted to put plan A into action, I needed to find out as much about my captor as possible. After all, how could I make him see me like a person if I didn’t see him as one, or understand his motivations? Cautiously, I moved towards the sliding metal bedroom door. It slid open obligingly when I broke the invisible beam and I found myself out in the long silver corridor again. Okay, I thought, eyeing the three other doors on the wall beside mine. One of these has to be Sarden’s. I hoped, anyway. And I also hoped it wasn’t locked. Well, only one way to find out. Going to the door directly beside mine, I reached forward to break the invisible beam that held it closed. Sure enough, the door slid open. But disappointingly, I found the room was almost an exact duplicate of my own, right down to the floating silver bed, the chair toilet, and the tank of purple liquid for “personal cleansing.” Okay, strike one. But I had to keep trying. The next door opened into a storage area filled with all kinds of alien equipment I didn’t understand. I was about to leave when it occurred to me I might find something useful. Stepping inside, I scanned the shelves which seemed to be arranged in a haphazard fashion. Most of the items just looked like tools or spare parts for the ship, which made me nervous. After all, Sarden was making repairs right now. What if he decided he needed something from this room and found me snooping around where I didn’t belong? Then again, he had told me I could look around the ship, as long

as I stayed away from the storage area in the back, that was. Still, I wasn’t seeing anything of interest and was about to leave when something caught my eye. It was a soft, blue glow, almost hidden by a pile of rusty metal pipes in the far corner of the room. Hoping that mysterious blue glow didn’t equal radioactive, I pushed some of the pipes aside—they were heavy—and found what looked like a pair of thick iron manacles. They were kind of like handcuffs only the cuff part that went over the wrist was three inches long and very large—again like they were made for a species bigger than human. Well, Sarden was certainly that. I wondered if all the sentient species in the universe were. Maybe Earthlings were the runts of the litter. I’ve always been kind of height challenged so I’m used to being short but I was betting some of the macho guys back home would be in for an unpleasant shock if they found out. I examined the manacles more closely. The glow was coming from a blue light, embedded in the length of silver chain that linked the thick cuffs together. I didn’t quite dare to touch it but I noticed it flickered when I lifted the manacles —which was not easy—they had to weigh twenty pounds at least. I wondered why someone had buried them under all these rusty pipes? Were they trying to hide them or was it just a mistake or an oversight? Looking down at the heavy manacles and the equally heavy pipes, suddenly plan B formed in my brain. It was a hell of a lot more dangerous than plan A and I wasn’t sure I could pull it off. But it seemed like a good idea to have a backup plan in case my Reverse Stockholm thing failed completely. Which was entirely possible given that Sarden had been completely upfront about trading me away and didn’t seem likely to change his mind. Holding the manacles against my belly to keep them from clinking, I chose a piece of rusty pipe that was about two feet long. It was thick, and comfortingly solid in my hand. I hefted it experimentally. Yeah, it was heavy enough to do the job, though just thinking of what I might have to do with it made my stomach feel like a flock of nervous butterflies had taken up residence there. Well, whatever—I was committed now. Sneaking back to my own room, I looked for a place to store my ill gotten goods. There was no nightstand, unfortunately and I couldn’t just leave them lying

under the bed. Finally I just stashed them in a fold of the floating silver beanbag. Then I went back out to explore some more. At first I thought Sarden’s room was just another guest room, like mine. It was bare of any personal touches and looked exactly the same except for a desk in one corner. I walked over to it curiously. The top of the desk was completely clear—so at least my captor was neater than my old boss. Dayton Lauder the third always had messy stacks of half-finished paperwork everywhere. I thought longingly of the coffee-stained piles which I used to curse because it was my job to clean them up and try to organize them. What I wouldn’t give to be staring at my boss’s messy desk instead of this sterile, blank alien one. I actually felt tears coming to my eyes before I got hold of myself. Get a grip, Zoe, I lectured myself. Whining and moping aren’t going to get you home! Taking a deep breath, I reached out to touch the desk. It was made of some kind of black, shiny material I thought must be glass or plastic at first but it felt warm—almost alive—under my fingertips. I don’t know what I expected but the minute my fingers brushed the desk, it vibrated and came to life. s flipped over to reveal several long, feathery instruments about the size of pencils what I could only assume were alien office supplies. There were some thin, transparent sheets piled in stacks too and several other things I had no idea about. But what caught my eye was a clear, crystal cube sitting at the far end of the desk. It was about as big as a softball but square and its many faceted sides caught the dim light in the room and reflected rainbow patterns across the walls. “Beautiful,” I murmured, reaching out to pick it up. Yeah, I know it was probably stupid but I have a weakness for pretty, shiny things. I held the cube—which was surprisingly heavy—in one hand while I examined it from all sides. There seemed to be a smudge on one jewel-like surface but when I tried to wipe it off, the smudge grew until it was a picture. A laughing young woman with smooth brown skin, long black hair and big golden cat eyes like Sarden’s suddenly filled the cube.

“Sardie!” she exclaimed as the picture came to life, playing like a video on my smartphone back home. “You’re incorrigible! Stop it—my hair is a mess!” I heard the deep rumble of Sarden’s laugh, though I couldn’t see him. Presumably he’d been the one making the recording. “You look fine, Sis—stop being so vain.” “I am not vain—you are, big brother” she protested. I frowned. So was this Sarden’s little sister? Her eyes were like his, sure enough, but her skin was brown instead of brick red and she didn’t have any horns. I frowned, trying to think how it could add up. “I’m not vain,” came Sarden’s reply. “Got nothing to be vain about—ugly halfbreed bastard that I am. But you’re beautiful and you know it.” “Well…” She tossed her shiny hair and I had to agree with Sarden—she was gorgeous. “Are you ready for your coronation?” he asked, still off camera—or off whatever it was he had used to record this. “I am.” She looked suddenly sad. “I wish it was you up there with me, though. I don’t want to rule with Hurxx—come to that, I don’t want to rule at all.” “I know, little Sellah—always got your head buried in your books and you don’t give a damn about the outside world. But the planet has to have a female of the blood as well as a male of the blood to prosper.” “I know, but you’d be better at it than Hurxx—you know you would.” “Hurxx is purebred Eloim and I’m not—you know that,” he said flatly. “The people would never—” “What in the Frozen Hells of Anor do you think you’re doing in my room?” The muted roar from behind me almost made me drop the crystal cube. As it was I fumbled with it comically and barely managed to clutch it to my chest. Then, just when I thought I had it, it squirted out from between my fingers and dropped

like a rock to the metal floor below. Or it would have if Sarden’s long fingers hadn’t reached out with surprising speed and delicacy and plucked it out of the air. He pressed something on it that cut off the scene and made it go cold and blank again. Then he spun me around and glared at me. “I said what are you doing in my room?” “You…I…you said I could go anywhere,” I blurted. “I was just exploring. I didn’t know this was your room.” Which was true—I hadn’t actually known but I had hoped. “I would think that a desk full of very personal objects would give you a clue about that,” he snarled. “Are all Earthlings this rude and nosey or is it just you?” “I’m s-sorry,” I said, trying not to be scared and failing. When he did that glaring thing where his eyes got all glowy he looked positively terrifying. Think—I had to think! the plan—plan A! whispered a little voice in my head. “Um, was that your sister?” I asked, nodding at the cube which he still cradled protectively in one hand. “She’s really pretty.” “Yes, Sellah is my sister—not that it’s any of your business,” he growled. “What of it?” “Nothing. It’s just that…I had a sister once, too. Her…her name was Angie.” My sister’s name stuck in my throat. Still, even after all these years, it was hard to talk about her. But I had to try and make a connection with him. Reverse Stockholm, I reminded myself fiercely. It’s the only way you’re getting out of here! Sarden’s response was less than enthusiastic. “Good for you,” he growled. “So you have a sibling. It doesn’t give you the right to go rifling through my things.”

“And what gave you the right to buy me and kidnap me?” I demanded, losing my temper. “What gave you the right to take me away from my entire planet and bring me on this God-forsaken ship where the toilets try to eat you?” “What?” He stared at me as though I wasn’t making any sense. Well, maybe I wasn’t but at that point I was so mad I didn’t even care. Even though he was huge and muscular and scary, my anger had erased my fear—at least for the moment. Who was he that he thought he could just buy me and steal me away from my ho-hum life and crappy job back on Earth? What the hell was wrong with him? “What would your sister think of you now?” I demanded, seizing on the only thing I could think of—the only piece of emotional leverage I could find. “What would she say if she knew what you were doing?” Yet again, I seemed to have said the exact wrong thing. Or maybe it was the right thing, I don’t know—but the consequences were the same. Sarden seemed to grow even bigger somehow, his face turning dark as he glared at me. Had I thought he looked scary before? It was nothing to how he looked now. Still, I stood my ground and refused to back down, even though my heart was thumping and my palms were sweating with terror. For a moment we just stared at each other. And if you’ve never had a staring contest with a seven foot tall guy who looks like a sexy Devil and could break you in half with his pinky finger, let me tell you—I don’t recommend it. Finally, though, Sarden spoke. “My sister,” he said in a low, grating voice. “Is the reason I took you.” “What?” I shook my head. “What are you talking about?” “Never mind.” He made a sharp gesture with one hand. “I’ll excuse your intrusion in my room this once on the grounds of ignorance. But never come in here again. Never.” “Fine.” I lifted my chin. “I was just leaving, anyway.” “Go back to your room,” he ordered. “And don’t leave again. I won’t be so lenient next time.”

As if there would be a next time. It looked to me like plan A wasn’t panning out —maybe it was time to consider plan B. “Fine,” I said again. But just as I turned to leave, Al glided into the room, his snaky metal neck sailing smoothly through the metal ceiling as though it was silver water. “Ah, Master Sarden,” he said sounding pleased. “I’m glad to see you found Lady Zoe. Did you invite her to dine with you, as you had intended?” I turned around and raised an eyebrow at Sarden. “Dine? We’re dining now?” “I thought you might be hungry,” he said, still scowling. “There’s time to get something to eat while A.L. runs a diagnostic on the hydrogen scoop.” “The food prep area can simulate almost any human delicacy you desire,” Al put in helpfully. “I have been making a study of your Earth cuisine—though I could only devote a small portion of my processing algorithm to it. I hope you will find the results pleasing.” “Thank you, Al. You’re by far the most courteous person on this ship,” I said, staring at Sarden pointedly. Sarden frowned, ignoring my jibe. “Why do you call him that? His designation is A.L. which stands for artificial life form.” “As to that, Master Sarden, I have been meaning to ask you to call me by my new name,” Al told him. “What?” Sarden looked startled. “You have a name now? Who said you could have a name?” “Lady Zoe was kind enough to name me,” Al said promptly. “I am named Alfred but Al for short. Apparently it is a good butler name—a butler is one who serves on Earth. And the name still goes with my designation of A.L. Is it not fitting?” For a moment, Sarden looked like he was going to protest. Then he shook his head as though he just couldn’t deal with this right now. “Fine. Al is fine, if

that’s what you want.” “It is. I find I enjoy having a name and not just a designation.” Al sounded happy again, in his proper butler way. “Great. Well…” Sarden looked at me. “Do you want to eat or not?” “That depends.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “I thought I was going to be confined to my room.” “Confined to her room? Oh no—why would you refuse Lady Zoe the freedom of the ship?” Al now sounded properly horrified. I was liking the artificial life-form more and more all the time. Sarden didn’t answer, instead he glared at me. “I’ll give you one more chance to behave,” he growled. “Don’t pry into my life or my business and I’ll let you have the run of the ship. But one more incident and you’re going into your room and staying there until we get to Giedi Prime.” “Sounds like somewhere out of a Frank Herbert novel,” I said. “But fine. I’ll stay out of your room.” Which wasn’t exactly the same as not prying—I was still determined to do plenty of that. I had hit a nerve with his sister, I was certain. And he’d said she was the reason he’d taken me. I had to find out more about that—I had the feeling it was the key to my freedom. But for now, I would let it drop. For now. “Fine,” Sarden growled. “Then let’s eat.” He turned and left the room and I followed him, with Al whizzing along by my side, his lantern-eye blinking.

Sarden

I tried to control my irritation as I led Zoe down the corridor and into the food prep area. How dare she go snooping around my room, rifling through my private things? I was especially irritated by the fact that she’d gotten me to reveal my relationship with Sellah. It was none of her business, damn it! And she shouldn’t have touched my memory cube! Seeing the little Pure One handle the precious crystal cube I’d stored so carefully in my desk had nearly turned me feral. It was the best memory I had of my sister, although I hadn’t been able to bear to listen to it in a long time. But when I walked in my room, there Zoe was—playing it as though my most private, cherished memories were hers for the taking. But even worse than the invasion of my privacy was hearing Sellah’s voice. Her sweet tones were like a blade piercing my heart. My beloved, innocent little sister now lost, possibly forever… No! I shoved the thought aside. Sellah wasn’t lost forever—she couldn’t be. I was going to get her back, Gods damn it! No matter what depths I had to sink to in order to do it. But I couldn’t help feeling a flash of guilt when I ed Zoe’s words. “What would your sister think of you now?” she’d asked. “What would she say if she knew what you were doing?” I had the uncomfortable feeling that Sellah wouldn’t like it one damn bit. Trying to shrug off the thought, I turned my attention to the task at hand— teaching Zoe how to use the food-simulator. The little Pure One would be gone from my life soon enough, I told myself. Though she looked distractingly lovely, dressed as she was in my shirt and nothing else so that all her ample curves were on display, I was determined to ignore her. Ignore her loveliness and the guilt I was tempted to feel when I got too near her.

As soon as the diagnostic was run and the s of the hydrogen scoop were fit to travel, I would take her straight to Giedi Prime and trade her to Tazaxx. Before she could worm her way any further under my skin.

Six

Zoe

So here’s the deal with simulated food—if you ever get a chance to try it, don’t. Just don’t, okay? It started out all right. Sarden seemed to have simmered down a little which was good. Being around him when he was pissed off was kind of like walking into the middle of a thunderstorm, wondering when the lightning was going to strike. But Sarden calm was not so bad—even if he did still look huge and scary. First he showed me into the kitchen—excuse me, the food prep area—and proceeded to explain how the food-simulator worked. The food-sim, as he called it, was the big gold stock pot looking thing I’d seen earlier when Al took me on my short tour. The one with all the wires coming out of it. As it turned out, the wires all had sticky pads attached to them and they were supposed to be placed at just the right spot on your temples so the food-sim could read your thoughts and know what to make you. “Why can’t I just tell it what to make?” I asked as Sarden pressed one of the sticky pads to his left temple. “You are telling it—with your mind. You can provide a much more complete idea of whatever it is you’re telling the sim to make, including taste, texture, and smell, by sending direct thought messages to its processing unit,” he explained. “So once you think what you want it appears in the pot?” Without waiting for an answer, I took the lid off the big gold pot and recoiled. “Ewww!” It was about two thirds full of green slime that looked an awful lot like snot. I’m sorry—I know that’s gross, but I have to be honest. That’s what it looked like. “You’re not supposed to remove the lid until the food-sim is finished,” Sarden snapped, snatching the lid back from me. “Are you paying attention? You’d better be because I don’t have time to make food for you and even if I did, I

doubt you’d like the cuisine from my home world.” “I doubt I’d like any cuisine that’s snot-based,” I said, fighting not to gag. “What’s in that pot, anyway?” “Nutrient slime—the raw material from which all foods are simulated, of course,” he said impatiently, as though it should be obvious. “So…the food-sim uses this stuff…” I pointed at the green slime. “To make things to eat? And then you actually eat them?” “I’m beginning to wonder if the transport process from your planet affected your mind after all,” he growled. “Of course you eat them. What else would you do with food?” “Throw it away if it was made of green slime,” I remarked. Not that I’m a super picky eater—one look at my hips and you’d know that. But a girl has to have some limits. “The finished food product doesn’t retain any of the texture or flavor of the nutrient slime,” he said, frowning. “Watch.” Putting the lid back on the pot, he closed his eyes and pressed his fingers to the pad at his temple. He looked like he was thinking really hard about a difficult math problem. I was beginning to wonder how long this whole process took when the food-sim made a small, discrete chime that sounded like someone ringing a fancy door bell. “There.” Opening his eyes, Sarden took the lid off again and a puff of fragrant smelling steam escaped the pot. I looked in. It was still filled two-thirds full with green slime but a small platform, which was completely slime free, had risen up from the center of the pot. On it sat a clear plate that might have been plastic or glass—I couldn’t tell. On the plate was something that looked like a blue spaghetti sandwich. By which I mean that the bread-like stuff it was wrapped in was blue. The spaghetti itself was red and yellow with black specs I took to be some kind of pepper. “Perfect.” Sarden nodded with satisfaction and lifted the plate out of the pot. Picking up the sandwich, he took a large bite. “Delicious,” he declared after

swallowing. “It doesn’t look too bad,” I conceded. “I mean the coloring is a little weird and having a bread and pasta combo like that is a lot of carbs, but it smells good.” “What is pasta?” he asked before taking another bite. “That stuff—the long skinny noodles you’re eating. On Earth we make it from wheat. What do your people make it from?” “We don’t make it at all—this is churn. We catch them in the Great Depths.” “The what now?” I frowned, not sure I understood him. “I said we catch them,” he repeated. “Churn. They’re a kind of water snake that comes from my home planet of Eloim. Would you like a bite?” He pushed the sandwich near my face and I suddenly saw what I hadn’t before— the “noodles” all had little black eyes—that was what I had mistaken for pepper. Some even had tiny forked tongues hanging out of their itty-bitty mouths. I think I made a sound like, “Urrgh,” because Sarden withdrew his snake sandwich quickly. “See? I told you that you wouldn’t like the cuisine of my home world—either one of my home worlds. If you think the churn are disgusting, I can imagine what you’d think of Vornish yigba stew.” “I didn’t say it was disgusting,” I protested weakly. “I’m just not used to, uh, eating snake sandwiches. That’s all. But…” I cleared my throat. “You said you have two home worlds?” He looked suddenly guarded. “I should not have mentioned that. But yes, I am half Vorn and half Eloim.” “I, uh, noticed that your sister doesn’t have horns like you do,” I said, busying myself with securing a sticky thought patch to my left temple and hoping I wasn’t overstepping my boundaries. “Is that because she’s a girl and only the men, er, males of your people have them, or…?”

I left the question hanging, wondering if he would get mad again. “The horns are from my Vorn heritage,” he growled. “Sellah doesn’t have them because she’s pureblooded Eloim. Not that it’s any of your Gods’ damned business.” “Sorry!” I protested. “I didn’t know it was such a touchy subject.” “Well it is. You might not know much about the universe—how could you, living on that uninformed ball of rock you call a planet—but the Vorn are hated and feared throughout our galaxy. They are considered violent, dangerous, and most of all, unpredictable.” He glared at me, as though daring me to say something. Okay, I wasn’t touching that one with a ten foot pole. “And what are the Eloim known for?” I asked instead, glossing over the whole violent and dangerous thing. Sarden took another bite of his sandwich and swallowed before answering. “Eloim are highly civilized with an elaborate set of social customs for every occasion. They value art, beauty, and learning above all else.” “Wow.” I frowned. “So the Vorn and Eloim are kind of polar opposites, huh?” “Something like that,” he agreed guardedly. “So how did your parents meet and fall in love, if they’re from such different cultures?” I asked, genuinely interested. “They didn’t,” he said briefly. “But then how—” “Why are you so interested in my heritage, anyway?” he interrupted, frowning at me. “I’m just trying to get to know you,” I said. “I’ve never met an alien before. Hell, I didn’t even know there were aliens outside of scifi books and movies

until you had Bambi and his minions drag me through that bathroom mirror.” “Who is Bambi?” he wanted to know. “Oh—that’s what I was calling the head wormy guy—the main Commercian, I mean. He had a voice like a character from a children’s story back on Earth so I sort of started calling him by that character’s name.” “That was actually Char’noth and despite his voice and appearance, he’s not a male you want to make angry with you,” Sarden said dryly. “You really seem to enjoy re-naming things and people.” “Oh, you mean Al?” I asked. The artificial life-form had gone back to the control area, presumably to run the diagnostic test Sarden had talked about so he wasn’t there to hear us talking about him. “I just thought he needed a name. He seems to like it, don’t you think?” “Yes, he does.” Sarden didn’t sound completely happy about it. “I don’t understand you—I’ve owned The Celesta for ten solar cycles and A.L.—Al— has been nothing but a control system for the ship. Then you’re on board for less than a solar hour and suddenly he wants a name.” “Maybe it’s because I treated him like a person—not just a thing,” I said pointedly. Sarden looked grumpy again. “Are you going to sim yourself some food or not?” he asked, pointedly changing the subject. “Yes, I am.” I still didn’t like the idea of eating something made out of green slime but it seemed like the best offer I was going to get. And besides, it was better to keep the big alien talking—asking for help with the whole food-sim process might take another step towards making him think of me as a person, not just a commodity to be traded. Reverse Stockholm, I reminded myself. I had to keep it up. I closed my eyes just as I had seen Sarden do and pictured a single piece of sushi. Nothing too fancy or complicated—just a California roll with crab and avocado and cucumber like they make at Origami, my favorite sushi restaurant in Tampa. Leah and Charlotte and I always go there for girl’s night out and then we head up to Ivarones, a little Italian place, and split a piece of their decadent

chocolate cherry cheesecake for dessert. Just thinking of my two best friends made me want to cry. I wonder if they had gone to the police yet. Probably not—I still hadn’t been gone from Earth for a whole day, even though it felt like years. They wouldn’t be allowed to file a missing persons report until at least twenty-four hours had elapsed. And even then it wouldn’t do them any good. I was gone, on my way to a galaxy far, far away… Suddenly I realized I was dangerously close to tears. Get a grip on yourself, Zoe! I took a deep breath and redirected my thoughts back to the piece of sushi. I thought about it as hard as I could until I heard the soft chime from the food-sim. “All right.” Sarden opened the lid for me and peered inside. “Is that what it’s supposed to look like?” I peeped in myself and was surprised to see a perfectly delicious-looking piece of sushi sitting on another one of those clear plates. “Oh, look! Just like I imagined!” I clapped my hands in surprised pleasure. “So glad we could meet your expectations,” Sarden said dryly, but I thought I saw the ghost of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. He lifted the plate out and handed it to me, waiting to see me eat the results. Picking the piece of sushi up, I sniffed it carefully. Well, it certainly smelled like sushi and there was no green slime anywhere on it or near it. Deciding to give it a chance, I popped it into my mouth and began to chew. After a moment I was looking for a napkin to spit it into. There wasn’t anything available though, so I had to swallow. Sarden must have seen the look on my face. “What happened? Did the food-sim get it wrong?” “You could say that.” I grimaced. “It looked like sushi but it tasted like something else.”

“Like what?” I frowned. It was hard to place the wrong taste because the sushi the food-sim had made for me had the right shape and color and texture and smell. But the taste…the taste had been completely off. Finally I had it. “Chocolate cherry cheesecake!” I exclaimed. “That’s what it tasted like!” Maybe the food-sim had made it taste like that because I was thinking about how I used to share it with Leah and Charlotte after we had sushi. “What’s that?” Sarden wanted to know. “It’s this kind of cake only not a cake—it’s made from soft cheese flavored with chocolate—” “Cheese?” he interrupted me. “Chocolate?” At that moment I felt truly sorry for him. He might be a big, tough alien with a super fast spaceship but he was living on snake sandwiches and he’d never had cheese or chocolate which are like, two of the holy trinity of foods as far as I’m concerned. (Wine is the third, in case you’re interested.) “Cheese is an Earth food made from milk, which is this white liquid we get from domesticated animals called cows,” I explained. “Ah.” He nodded. “We make a similar concoction on Vorn 6 from the bile of the sprag.” “Remind me never to go out to eat with you on Vorn 6 then,” I said. “Anyway, there are lots of varieties of cheeses—we use a soft, sweet one to make cheese cake.” “And you said it was flavored by shauckolat?” “Chocolate,” I corrected him. “It’s made by taking the beans out of these big pods that grow in the jungle and roasting them and grinding them—then mixing them with sugar and more milk—” “You certainly eat a lot of this ‘milk’ you’re talking about,” Sarden remarked. “If we ate that much sprag bile we’d be sick.”

In my personal opinion, any amount of bile would be too much, but I didn’t say so. See? I can be tactful. “There’s no such thing as too much cheese or too much chocolate,” I told Sarden fervently. “Look, I don’t think I’m explaining about the chocolate cherry cheesecake the right way. Let me try to make a piece for you—or let the foodsim try, anyway.” “Very well.” He nodded and crossed his muscular arms over his still bare chest which made his pecs dance around in a yummy and distracting way. “I’d like to see this Earth delicacy.” “All right.” Closing my eyes to shut out the sight of his muscles, I took a deep breath and concentrated hard on making cheesecake. I thought about the dense, creamy texture…the rich, chocolately taste…the sweet, slightly tart cherries… The food-sim dinged again. I opened the lid eagerly to see a perfect piece of cherry chocolate cheesecake sitting there on the clear plate. It looked just like it did when we ordered it from Ivarones. “Perfect!” I exclaimed, picking it up. I was certain that this time I had gotten it right. It looked amazing and smelled so sweet and creamy and delicious. I couldn’t wait to taste it—but I wanted Sarden to try some too. He, however, was looking at it with an uncertain expression on his face. “It looks like a triangular wedge of soil with blood clots on top,” he pointed out. “What? Eww! Don’t say that about my cheesecake!” I protested. “Look, just try it and you’ll see how delicious it is. Just try.” He shrugged his broad shoulders. “I don’t see why I should try your cuisine when you refused a bite of my perfectly good churn wrap, but all right. I’ll try.” “You need something to eat it with—do you have any forks or spoons—any kind of utensils?” I asked when he raised his eyebrows at me in confusion. “Oh. Of course.” He tapped the long bar the food-sim was located on twice with his fingertips. A portion of it flipped over, revealing a tray which held the most bewildering array of cutlery I’d ever seen, all made of some shiny black metal.

There were several knives of varying lengths, some things that looked like really sharp chopsticks only they had curly ends like corkscrews, a ladle-like spoon that would have held almost an entire bowl of soup—if his people ate soup—and some things that looked like weird 3-D forks with tines sticking out in all directions. “What in the world?” I said, staring down at the bizarre instruments. “Sorry.” Sarden looked slightly embarrassed. “It’s inherited from my mother. Eloim have elaborate customs for everything, including dining.” “And they use all this for every meal?” Carefully, I chose a spork-looking thing with a very long handle—it looked like the best bet for eating the cheesecake the food-sim had made. “Mmm-hmm.” Sarden nodded. “I don’t usually use it myself. Or at least, only when Sellah comes on board. She—” He stopped abruptly and for a moment I thought I saw his features twist into an expression of deep pain and regret. Then his face went blank and he shrugged. “Anyway, do you want to try this cakecheese first or should I?” “Cheesecake,” I corrected him. “And you try it.” “Very well.” He took the long handled spork from me. “And this is the correct utensil to use?” “Uh, sure. It’s fine.” “All right.” He dug gamely into the chocolate cherry cheesecake despite his earlier opinion that it looked like dirt and blood. He popped the bite in his mouth and I watched anxiously, wondering if this taste of Earth cuisine would make him think differently about me. “Well?” I asked anxious after he had chewed and swallowed. Sarden frowned. “It tastes good enough. Only…did you say it was supposed to be sweet?” “Yes—so sweet it makes your teeth ache. Why—isn’t it?” I asked anxiously. “Here, let me try it.” I reached for the spork-thing but he held it out of arm’s

length. “Don’t you want me to wash it first?” “Why?” I asked impatiently. “Do you have a cold? I mean, are you sick?” I asked, seeing the look of incomprehension on his face. “Well, no. But…I am Vorn. Half Vorn anyway,” he said, as though that was supposed to make a difference. “So? I’m human. Now let me try the cheesecake.” I held out my hand for the spork and he reluctantly surrendered it. (For those of you who are squeamish about eating after someone else, I’m sorry—it just doesn’t bother me.) Besides, I really wanted to try that cheesecake. I hadn’t even been gone from Earth a whole day yet and already I was having chocolate withdrawal. I took a big bite of the chocolate cherry cheesecake, making sure to get one of the plump, gooey cherries too. I popped it in my mouth and chewed…then nearly spit it out. “Wrong again? Is it not supposed to taste like that?” Sarden guessed, apparently reading the expression on my face. “No,” I said swallowing with some difficulty. “Not at all.” In fact, it tasted exactly like sushi. Not the mild California roll I’d tried to make earlier, either. The cheesecake tasted like the time I’d tried a piece of really strong salmon skin roll that Charlotte had ordered once. She’d gotten me to take a bite by telling me I wasn’t adventurous enough—I wondered what she would think if she could see me now. Now, I know what you’re thinking—so what if they look wrong, you have something that tastes like cheesecake and something that tastes like sushi. Why not just close your eyes and eat them and enjoy? Well, because it wasn’t just the taste I was dealing with. It was the texture and the smell. The smooth, creamy mouth-feel of the cheesecake and its rich, dark chocolate smell did not go well with the flavor of raw fish. In fact, it was disgusting. So I was surprised when Sarden plucked the spork

from my hand and ate another bite himself. “Not bad,” he remarked thoughtfully. “At any rate, I’ve had worse. But I take it you want to try again?” I sighed. “I’ll try something different this time—I think the food-sim thingy has sushi and cheesecake completely mixed up.” He shrugged his shoulders. “Go ahead. I have an entire drum of Nutrient Slime in the cargo hold—you can make as much shauckolat cakecheese as you want.” This time I didn’t even try to correct him. Instead, I closed my eyes and pictured a cheeseburger. The biggest, juiciest cheeseburger ever, with pickles and onions, a deep red slice of tomato and a crispy piece of lettuce, all served on a big, fluffy sesame seed bun. The food-sim dinged and out it came—exactly as I had pictured it. It smelled amazing. Sarden eyed my creation with interest. “You Earthlings certainly have strange looking food.” “Says the man who just ate a snake sandwich right in front of me,” I said, lifting the plate out of the food-sim’s big gold pot. “Do you need a utensil to eat that?” he wanted to know. “What is it called, anyway?” “A cheeseburger. And no utensils—this is finger food.” “Finger food?” He frowned. “Is it made from the ground up digits of some animal?” “Ugh, no!” I exclaimed. “Finger food just means it’s meant to be eaten with your fingers—with your hands. Don’t your people have any food like that? Aside from snake sandwiches, I mean.” “The Eloim do not,” he said. “Even the churn wrap I ate was supposed to be carved into pieces with a vunnel knife and then consumed with the trillers.” He nodded at the cork-screw chopstick looking things. “The Vorn, however, are very

fond of chabeth knuckles. We cover them in a type of sweet blood sauce and gnaw the meat from the bones. It’s a very messy affair.” “It sounds like it,” I muttered. Actually, neither one of his cultures sounded like much fun. The Eloim sounded like overly fancy prigs and the Vorn appeared to be the galaxy’s equivalent of thuggish ex-cons with the table manners of a hillbilly. I wondered again how in the world his parents had gotten together. Maybe his mom had a thing for bad boys. “Well? Are you going to try it?” Sarden asked, nodding at my plate. “Absolutely.” I eyed my creation reverently. This time I was completely certain the food-sim had gotten it right. It looked so perfect—like a cheeseburger out of a commercial. I mean, it really was a thing of beauty. Closing my eyes, I took a big bite and tasted… Chocolate éclair. “Oh, no,” I moaned, putting the cheeseburger down. “Wrong again?” Sarden picked it up, sniffed it, and took a bite. He frowned, putting it down. “That is much too sweet.” “It’s not supposed to be sweet at all,” I said sadly. “It’s supposed to be salty and crunchy and chewy and delicious.” Not that chocolate éclairs aren’t delicious— but that taste just doesn’t go with the smell and texture of a cheeseburger. “Possibly A.L.—Al—did something wrong when adding the new Earth cuisine to the food-sim’s program,” Sarden remarked. “Maybe you should wait and let him tinker with it some before you try again.” “No.” I frowned. “I’m not giving up.” He gave me a surprised look. “For such a small female, you certainly have a lot of determination.” “I’m not a quitter,” I said grimly. “And I’m not that small—it’s just that you’re so freaking huge. Does that come from the Eloim side or the Vorn side?” “Vorn,” he said. “The Eloim are only a little larger than you Earthlings.” He

sighed. “I was much feared growing up for my size. Only Sellah—” He frowned and stopped himself abruptly. “Keep trying if you want to. I have to see if A.L. has finished the diagnostic on the Hydrogen scoop’s s yet.” He started to leave but just then Al came gliding into the room. “Master Sarden, diagnostics complete,” he said in that proper voice of his. “But I’m afraid you will not like the results.” “What?” Sarden growled. “All I want to hear is that we can get to Giedi Prime.” “Not immediately, I’m afraid,” Al said apologetically. “One of the s is fatally flawed and must be replaced. The repairs you made will only hold for a little while—long enough to get us to the nearest spaceport—Gallana—which orbits Proxima Centauri.” Sarden groaned. “Not Gallana! It’s run by the Gods’ damned Majorans.” “I’m sorry I don’t have better news, Master.” Al sounded genuinely sorry, too. “I know that speed is of the essence. But once the is replaced we should be able to use the Hyperdrive to make up time and still get to Giedi Prime at the appointed hour.” “We’ll be cutting it awfully Gods’ damned close though,” Sarden growled. “But I guess if that’s our only option, you’d better set a course to Gallana.” “At once, Master.” Al glided away again. “What’s wrong with going to, uh, Gallana?” I asked, thinking it sounded like a super-expensive and ritzy shopping mall. “Besides the delay? The fucking Majorans. They have…strange ideas about their females.” “What kinds of ideas?” I asked. He shook his head. “Never mind. The point is, whenever you visit a Majoran base, you have to follow their rules. Of the twelve overlord races—the Twelve Peoples, we call them—that the Ancient Ones left behind, the Majorans are in ascendancy right now. So their empress rules our galaxy.”

“Huh?” I stared at him, my chocolate-éclair cheeseburger completely forgotten now. “Our galaxy has an empress?” “Of course. Who do you think rules us all? Her throne is located on Femme One, on the edge of the super-massive black hole in the center of the galaxy.” “Okay, wow. That’s a lot to take in,” I murmured. “You’d know all this if you hadn’t been locked away by the Ancient Ones,” he remarked. “But we’ve been searching for extraterrestrial life for years,” I protested. “We’ve been sending out signals and scanning the stars… How is it we never came across anything at all?” He snorted. “With the primitive instruments you have? You couldn’t find a black kalk in the white sands of Quendor with Earthling tech.” “Hey, that tech got us to our moon and back—more than once,” I said stiffly. He snorted again. “Oh yes—the journey of a single light-second. A mighty achievement.” “It was for us,” I pointed out. “Everyone has to start somewhere.” “That’s the point—you’re just starting out. Which means you’re far, far behind even the more primitive peoples of the universe. Besides,” he added more kindly. “Your planet is located in an out-of-the-way arm of the galaxy. It’s not like you’re close to any of the major space hubs. You’re just a forgotten little world the Ancient Ones put off limits.” His face grew dark. “And if you’re lucky, you’ll stay that way. Although I doubt it now that the Commercians have sunk their blue claws into you.” I thought of other girls just like me being sucked through their mirrors or toasters or spoons or any shiny, reflective surface in their house and winding up on Bambi’s ship, just as I had. Not just one or two—hundreds, thousands, millions maybe, depending on how popular Earth brides turned out to be with alien men. If the Alien Mate Index really took off, we could be looking at the end of the human race.

The thought made me sick and a cold finger of dread skittered down my spine. I wrapped my arms around myself and shivered. Sarden frowned. “Are you chilly? Char’noth said you came from a very warm region of your planet. I’m…sorry I didn’t give you more protective clothing. Although you do look tempting in just my shirt.” His golden eyes roamed over me, making me shiver for a different reason. For some reason while we’d been using the food-prep machine, I’d managed to forget how very huge and imposing and shirtless he was. Now, as he took a step closer, I was faced with the broad planes of his muscular chest and I could smell his scent again—that warm, spicy, campfire aroma that made my knees turn to jelly for some reason. “I’m fine,” I lied, keeping my chin up and trying not to let him affect me. “Just…just trying to decide what to ask the food-sim to make next.” “So you’re determined to try again?” Sarden sounded surprised. “I told you—I’m not a quitter.” There was nothing I could do about the situation with Earth—not now. If I could ever get back there, maybe I could warn my home planet. Although I was pretty sure everyone would think I was just plain crazy if I tried. Still, I would have to get home first to test that theory and right now, plan A was all I had to get there. Reverse Stockholm, I reminded myself. Looking at Sarden, I gave him what I hoped was a flirtatious smile. “How would you like to try another rare Earth delicacy? We call this one bacon and eggs.”

Sarden

The little Pure One never ceased to amaze me. She was determined to force the food-sim to get the food of her home world correct and she refused to stop trying. She made me the Earth food called bacunandeggz—which consisted of long, crispy strips and fluffy, pale yellow chunks. But they tasted sweet, as the cheezburger had. Zoe said they had the flavor of pankakes which are apparently flat, spongy disks soaked in the sweet sap of a tree indigenous to Earth. Rather than being discouraged by yet another failure, she was happy. “I’m getting close,” she remarked, eating a bite of the crispy bacun. “At least these are all breakfast foods. And this pancake-tasting-bacon isn’t half bad.” She tried several other things too but none of them came out the way she wanted. There was a thick piece of grilled meat which was supposed to be salty and tender but which Zoe said tasted like a sweet confection made of red berries and cake. Then she tried two slices of plain white Earth bread, much like the blue crust of my churn wrap, with a small amount of yellow Earth cheese melted between them. Again, it was supposed to be salty but Zoe said it tasted like something she called shauckolat pudding. Though none of her Earth recipes came out to her satisfaction, she kept trying anyway. I don’t know why, but I stayed with her, tasting the strange Earth concoctions she coaxed from the food-sim and laughing with her as each came out worse than the last. We shared utensils and at one point, she asked me for a drink to wash the various tastes out of her mouth. I got her a squeeze bulb of purified water but before giving it to her, I took a sip myself. Zoe didn’t hesitate to put her lips where mine had been—she took the water and drank it thankfully, apparently not bothered that her mouth had touched that which had also touched the mouth of a Vorn. Watching her do that roused a powerful sensation in my chest—more powerful

than I liked to it. The Vorn are hated and feared through most of the universe and especially here in our home galaxy. We are considered an unclean species, especially by the fastidious Eloim. I could still the pain in my childhood of the other children refusing to touch me—washing their hands after even the slightest and most incidental . Only Sellah stood by me, refusing to act like the others. She never saw me as a half-breed or a Vorn—only as her beloved big brother, and nothing anyone said could shake her love or her loyalty. I tried to push the thoughts of my lost sister away and thought of the days ahead instead. Stopping by Gallana to get a replaced was going to put a serious crimp in my schedule. And that was if I could find someone to fix the right away—a mechanic willing to deal with a male alone who didn’t have a female companion with him. Just thinking of it made me grind my teeth. The damned Majorans are sexist and it irritates the piss out of me to have to deal with them. Not that I mind them worshiping their females—a male can worship any damn thing he chooses, as far as I’m concerned. But the fact that they make everyone conform to their ways or refuse to do business with them is damned irritating. The other worry, besides our time constraints, was how I could pay for the new and the work to replace it. With the exception of a few hundred credits I had kept back for fuel, buying Zoe from the Commercians had me all tapped out. It looked like I would have to search a little harder for someone who wanted to buy the Assimilation medical equipment in the storage area of The Celesta. But could I do all that and still get back to Giedi Prime and Tazaxx before the auction? I didn’t know. I sent a swift prayer to the Goddess of Mercy—hoping she’d hear me, despite what a bastard I am. And I tried to concentrate on Zoe instead. It wasn’t hard—she had a bubbly personality that reminded me of Sellah, though she was more outgoing than my shy, bookish little sister. She kept talking and laughing, drawing me into conversation while she continued to work with the food-sim. I wondered at her apparent ease around me. I was her captor—her kidnapper— and I had already told her I was trading her to Tazaxx. But she didn’t cry with fear or sulk or try to get away. She just kept giving me new things to eat and

laughing at her failures. I couldn’t help watching the way she moved—this close to her, the hidden spectrum of colors erupted across my vision, showing me her true beauty despite the inhibitor she wore. Her pale skin with its many dots of light pigment seemed to glow in the dim illumination of the food-prep area. Her hair was a long, silky tangle of auburn curls and her curves—those sweet, generous curves I’d ired so much when she’d first been brought aboard the Commercians’ base—were barely covered by the thin black temp-shirt I’d given her to wear. I knew it was wrong but I couldn’t help wishing I could taste the merchandise, just a little, before I sent her on her way. If I kissed her or touched her it would likely be the last such she’d ever receive. That was because Tazaxx was a Gord—a species sexually incompatible with the descendants of the Ancient Ones. He kept his “special collection” in a zoo-like exhibit area—for display purposes only. Zoe would be put into a beautifully built case with all the luxuries her heart could desire and there she would spend her days, behind a force-field, being lovely and innocent for Tazaxx and his friends to ire. It was where I hoped and prayed Sellah was now. Knowing that Tazaxx didn’t physically abuse or sexually violate those in his “special collection” was the only thing that kept me sane. I imagined my little sister in that gilt cage, behind the force-field, and then I pictured Zoe there, in her place. I didn’t like either image. So though my palms itched to caress Zoe’s curves and cup her full breasts… though I wondered more than once what her soft pink lips would taste like, I kept my hands to myself. I am, as I said before, no rapist. No matter how much she tempted me, I was determined to trade her to Tazaxx untouched. But I couldn’t help watching her—she shone so brightly in the dimness of my ship. Like a star I had stolen from the heavens, though I had no right to do it.

Zoe

I don’t know how long we spent trying to get the food-sim to make anything decent to eat—it might have been a couple of hours. I do know the level of green Nutrient Slime in the gold pot had gone down considerably by the time I finally gave up. By that time I had made bacon and eggs that tasted like pancakes and syrup, a tbone steak that tasted like strawberry shortcake, a grilled cheese sandwich that tasted like chocolate pudding, and too many other things to count. The closest I got to something edible was the pancake flavored bacon, but mostly because you eat those two things together a lot anyway. At last, I had to stop. I was determined to try again after Al worked on the program some more, but I was afraid I would make myself sick if I ate any more mixed up food. Sarden didn’t seem bothered by the strange taste and texture combinations. He gamely tried everything I made, even the awful banana cream pie that tasted like sauerkraut. I noticed he kept watching me as we worked and he got quiet once or twice but I counted it as a victory anyway. We were getting to be friends—well, sort of. And it’s a hell of a lot harder to trade your friends to some oily alien salesman than it is to trade away some girl you don’t even know. Reverse Stockholm—I was sure it was working. Pretty sure, anyway. And I tried not to notice how those glowing gold eyes watching me made me feel. How when his fingers brushed my skin, even by accident, it sent shivers down my spine and made my nipples turn into tight little points. Friendly or not, he was still the enemy. I might pretend to like him but that was all it was, I told myself sternly—just pretend. All an act to get him to care about me too much to trade me. And hopefully enough to get him to take me back to Earth. At least we had this layover in the spaceport to look forward to. It would give us

more time to spend together—more time for Sarden to get to know me. Maybe I should go even further and try to make him fall in love with me? Maybe I should try to seduce him. The thought made me shiver all over. Sarden was huge and I hadn’t been with anybody since I broke up with my ex almost a year ago. He’d probably split me in half if I tried something like that. I tried to push the extremely scary thoughts to the back of my mind but the longer I was with him and the more I smelled his warm, spicy scent, the harder it got to do. I was almost relieved when he finally told me I should get some sleep. “Being transported as you were is a very tiring process. You probably need to rest,” he told me as he walked me to the door of my room. “All right.” I stopped beside the door and looked up at him, wondering what was going on behind those golden alien eyes. “I’m looking forward to trying out the floating hoverbed. We don’t have anything like that on Earth.” “You want to go to bed, little Pure One?” His voice was a soft, deep growl that seemed to send tingles all though me. “I…you know what I mean,” I stammered, feeling my cheeks get hot. “Yes, I know,” he murmured, brushing a strand of hair out of my eyes. “I just thought maybe you were interested to try the bed’s pleasure settings.” I didn’t know what he meant by that but I shivered as his warm fingertips brushed my skin and then tried to pretend I hadn’t. “I’m tired,” I said and it wasn’t a lie. Suddenly I felt as though all my energy was leaking away. It really had been a very long day—from getting staplers thrown at my head, to being dragged through the bathroom mirror into an alien space ship, to spending hours with Sarden trying to make food out of green slime. It was the longest and strangest day I’d ever had in my life and I was suddenly completely exhausted. Being abducted by aliens really takes it out of a girl—out of me, anyway.

“Go to sleep then.” Sarden’s deep voice was almost a caress and I thought for a moment he was going to cup my cheek or stroke my hair. He raised his hand for a moment…but then he brought it back down to his side and clenched it tight instead. “What about you?” I asked. “Are you, uh, going to bed too?” He shook his head. “Not for a while. I have a lot to do before we reach Gallana.” “The spaceport, right.” I nodded. “Um, do I get to go with you? I’ve never seen an alien spaceport before.” “I don’t think so.” His face darkened. “You’d be a target there if anyone found out you were a Pure One. Especially if it was known you’re a La-ti-zal.” “I still don’t understand that,” I complained. “What does it even mean?” “That you’re special,” he murmured and this time he did lift his hand to cup my cheek. I felt my heart pounding and my face getting warm under his touch. God he smelled good! And he was so close I could feel the heat from his big body radiating against my own. I wondered what it would be like to be cuddled up in his arms…to kiss those cruel but sensual-looking lips… “Very special,” Sarden murmured again and he bent lower. Was he actually going to kiss me? Was I actually going to let him? “Too…too special to trade, maybe?” I blurted, my stupid mouth talking without consulting my brain first. (This tends to happen to me a lot.) At once, Sarden’s eyes went cold and he pulled back from me. He’d been leaning over so that we were almost eye-to-eye but now he drew himself up to his full height and glared down at me. “No,” he said coldly. “Not too special for that.” “But…but I thought…” I shook my head, knowing I was making it worse but unable to stop my big fat mouth from saying things I knew it shouldn’t. “We had fun today,” I said. “I mean, we talked, we got to know each other, we made food

out of slime…it was fun.” “Very enjoyable,” he agreed but his face was still cold. “I’m sorry, Zoe, but no matter how much I enjoy your company or how beautiful you are, I’m still going to trade you. I have no choice.” With that, he left me standing there, feeling like someone had just dumped a bucket of ice water over my head. The big red jerk.

Seven

Zoe

I it, I spent a couple of hours curled in a corner crying and poor-pitiful-meing after I got into my room that night. I had really thought I was making headway with Sarden—I thought he actually liked me. Hell, for a minute there when we were saying good night, I thought he did more than like me. I could still feel the heat of his big body radiating against mine, could still trace the line of warmth his hand had left on my cheek… But it all meant nothing. He was determined to trade me no matter what and I was never going to get back home again. I was never going to have a cheeseburger that didn’t taste like chocolate éclair or a steak that didn’t taste like strawberry shortcake. There would be no more girl days with Charlotte and Leah, no more three-way bitch sessions on the phone, no more late night movie marathons. No more of a hundred thousand little things that had made up my life on Earth. No more. But a person can only cry so much. After a couple of hours when my eyes were all red and weepy and swollen, I finally took a deep breath and got hold of myself. Back home, when I was miserable, I always took a hot shower and felt better afterwards. Unfortunately, that wasn’t an option here. It was either get in the tank of purple liquid (no, no, and Hell no) or take a shower in the mister. I chose the mister. After shedding the black temp-shirt, I turned the alien shower on and stepped into a cloud of cool mist which collected in chilly droplets that ran down over my bare skin. Honestly, it wasn’t very good as showers go. I mean, I was able to get my body clean but I knew right away I wouldn’t be able to wash my hair in there. My curly mop is too dense to wash under anything but excellent water pressure which was pretty much the exact opposite of the mister.

But since I didn’t have any shampoo anyway, I decided not to bother. I twisted my hair into a thick knot at the nape of my neck and just concentrated on getting my skin clean. After turning off the mister, I looked for something to dry off with. There were no towels that I could see but suddenly a blast of hot air surrounded me, coming from the same fine jets which had previously sprayed the water. It nearly knocked me off my feet but I put out my hands to brace against the wall and managed to stay upright. When the hot air finally subsided, I was dry. “Whew,” I muttered to myself as I stepped out. “What is it with these people and the hot air on your sensitive areas?” There was no answer forthcoming but I didn’t expect one. It was just another aspect of alien life I would have to get used to unless I could get back home. All right, so let’s think about that, I told myself. How can I get home? I pulled Sarden’s t-shirt back on, since I had nothing else to wear, and settled gingerly into the floating silver bed. It dipped and swayed dangerously as I scrambled in but once I was in place, it ed me beautifully. I thought it would probably be like sleeping on a cloud—only I had no intention of sleeping. Not tonight. It was time to get serious. Fact 1—I was on a spaceship headed away from Earth and I was getting farther away all the time. Fact 2—Plan A had failed spectacularly. Fact 3—I had only one option left, that I could see. It was time for Plan B. Reaching into the folds of the silver, floating beanbag bed, I withdrew the heavy length of pipe and the thick manacles. The manacles glowed a soft blue, the light in the center of the chain connecting them winking like a star. I finally dared to touch it and when I did, the light changed from blue to green and both of the thick cuffs popped open with a soft chime. Hmm… I touched the

light again—which was cool but buzzed and vibrated under my fingertip—and they snapped closed and the light turned blue. So that was how they worked. Good thing because I didn’t see any key to go with them. I hefted the pipe in my hand and stared at it. Could I really go through with this? I’ve never been a violent person. I mean, I have a temper on me and I got in a pretty good fight once in fifth grade when Grace McLaughlin stole the charm bracelet my Granny had given me for my birthday and started telling everyone it was hers. But other than that, I’ve never been much of a fighter. Well, it was time to change all that. The longer I waited, the further I got from Earth. It was time to turn this ship around and if Sarden wouldn’t do it, I would find a way myself. Tucking the heavy, cold manacles under my shirt-dress to mask their glow, I held the pipe by my side and slipped out into the hall. I had half expected to see Al somewhere watching me, but the artificial life form’s round lantern-eye was nowhere to be seen. The lights aboard the ship had been dimmed and the long metal corridor was filled with black shadows. It was seriously creepy. My mind kept wanting to show me images and scenes from that Event Horizon movie my ex had made me watch—the horror scifi one where the people’s eyeballs explode. I really should have insisted on watching something else that night. You can bet I wouldn’t be having frightening flashbacks of Richard Gere and Julia Roberts having sex on the piano if I’d gotten my way and we had watched Pretty Woman instead. Taking a deep breath, I pushed the scary images aside and slipped down the hall to stand in front of Sarden’s door. Some time ago I had heard his door whoosh open and closed, so I knew he was in there. The question was—was he asleep? And was he deeply enough asleep for me to carry out my plan? Well, only one way to find out. Leaning forward, I broke the invisible beam and the door opened with a soft, almost silent swish. Inside it was very dark except for a tiny bit of light coming from the bathroom. As my eyes adjusted, I realized it was the purple liquid in the

awful personal cleansing tank—it was glowing ever so faintly like a vast aquarium nightlight thing. The light wasn’t much but it was enough for me to see Sarden’s large form sprawled across a vast silver beanbag bed. Like the one in my room, the bed was floating about three feet above the floor. Just the right height. I gripped the pipe tighter and stepped forward. Sarden didn’t stir. He was lying on his back with his head turned to one side which was good. I had read in a self-defense book once that the best way to knock out your attacker with one blow was with a single hit to the temple. I planned to avoid his horns though—I wasn’t sure what hitting one of them might do to him and I wanted to knock him out, not kill him. Sliding closer, I kept my left hand pressed to my belly to keep the manacles from clinking and raised the pipe in my right. Then I hesitated. It was really hard to do this—much harder than I’d expected. You spend your whole life from preschool up being told “don’t hit, don’t kick, don’t punch…be careful, don’t hurt anyone and if you do hurt someone, say you’re sorry!” Well, I could say sorry later, after I had him cuffed and under my control, I decided. Right now, this was my only option. Taking a deep breath, I swung down, landing the pipe as hard as I could. Only it landed on the soft, billowy fold of the silver beanbag bed. Because at the last moment, Sarden rolled to one side and popped up on his feet. I knew I was in trouble from the way his golden eyes glowed in the dark. He looked huge in the dim purple light—a mountain of muscles and it suddenly occurred to me what an extremely stupid idea Plan B was. Here I was, in the dark with a massive, seven foot tall, extremely muscular alien who bore more than a ing resemblance to the Devil and I had just tried to brain him with a metal pipe. I was so, so screwed.

“What in the Frozen Hells of Anor do you think you’re doing?” he demanded in a low, angry growl. “And what do you have in your hand?” “I…um…” Like a scared little girl, I tried to hide the pipe behind my back because I tend to get stupid when I’m terrified. “Give me that.” With one stride he was around the bed and grabbing my wrist. His long fingers squeezed tight and my hand went numb at once. “Ow!” I cried and dropped the pipe which landed on the floor with a metallic clatter. “I see,” Sarden said grimly. Still holding my arm, he scooped up the pipe. “So you were planning to kill me in my sleep—is that it?” “No, honestly,” I gasped. “I wasn’t going to kill you—just knock you unconscious and chain you up.” “A likely story,” he snarled, shaking me. The sudden motion dislodged the manacles from under my shirt and they landed on my bare foot. “Ouch!” I yelped in sudden agony. “Son of a bitch that hurts!” “Force Locks?” Sarden dropped the pipe and kicked it under the bed, then bent to scoop up the manacles instead. He looked at their glowing blue light and then at me. “Where did you get these?” “I…I found them,” I gasped. “No doubt when you were snooping around the ship earlier. I knew I was being too soft on you. I should have locked you in your room—that might have kept you from sneaking around in the middle of the night trying to kill me.” “Well, what did you expect me to do, you big red bastard?” I flared at him. “Just wait like a good little prisoner to be sold or traded? Get it through your head— you do not own me!” “No, you get it through your head, Zoe…” He leaned down until we were eyeto-eye, his golden, glowing eyes burning into my own. “I do own you and I’ll do whatever I damn well please with you.”

Scooping me up with one arm, he lifted me and threw me on my back in the middle of the silver beanbag bed. Then he climbed in beside me.

Eight

Sarden

I didn’t know whether I should be angry with her or ire her courage. I still couldn’t believe she’d had the nerve to come to my room in the middle of the night and try to brain me with a pipe. It’s a damn good thing I have a Vornish watchfulness and Eloim reflexes. I’d been awake from the moment she entered my room, but I had wanted to wait and see what she would do. After our almost tender scene at her door, I’d been hoping she might try crawling in bed with me. No such luck though—she just wanted to kill me and take over the ship. Wouldn’t you do the same thing? whispered a voice in my head that sounded uncomfortably like Sellah’s. Wouldn’t you try to kill or incapacitate your captor if you were being taken away from your home to be sold as a slave? I tried to ignore it as I got into bed beside the little Pure One and held her down. “Sarden…Sarden, please!” Her voice was soft and breathy and her body felt lush and ripe under my restraining hand. I wanted to use both hands to hold her but I was still gripping the Force Locks in my other fist. Seeing their blue glow in the dim room gave me a sudden flash of inspiration—let her have a taste of her own medicine. With two swift moves I had her arms stretched over her head and the Force Locks snapped around her slender wrists. Of course they were much too large for her but the field generated inside the manacles held her in place as securely as the metal outside would have. Then I pushed her hands down until the blue lock-light touched the silver fabric of my hoverbed. At once, they locked into place, as secure as if I’d driven a nail through them to hold them there. “Hey! Hey, let me go!” Zoe wriggled and squirmed, clearly surprised that she couldn’t wiggle her way out of the locks. I thought it was a good thing she wasn’t a Vorn and so was unable to activate the Force-Locks. They were keyed to the ship so if she had been able to activate

them, she could have released herself by simply applying a firm pressure to the lock-light with her skin. She also could have gotten anywhere in the ship, using the Locks as a key. But of course, not being a Vorn, these things were impossible. And even if she had been Vornish, she wouldn’t have been able to reach the light —not in the position I had her in now. The position I intended to keep her in until she learned her lesson. And how exactly was I going to teach her that lesson? I didn’t know yet but her luscious curves, all laid out like a feast before me in the middle of my bed did give me a few ideas…

Zoe

“Help! Let me go!” I demanded, wiggling futilely. But though the heavy manacles looked like they should be much too big for me, they held me firmly and I couldn’t get away. The metal wasn’t even touching my skin—it felt like I was being held by a cushion of air—completely inescapable air. “You’re not going anywhere until you learn your lesson,” Sarden growled, leaning over me. I stopped wiggling and looked up at him, feeling my eyes grow wide and my breath grow short. So much trouble. I was in so much trouble now. I could feel the heat of his big body again, hovering just over my own much smaller one. “What…what are you going to do to me?” I whispered in a voice that trembled a lot more than I liked. “What do you think I’m going to do?” he snarled softly and then I felt something pinch my nipple. “Hey!” I nearly jumped out of bed—I would have if the manacles hadn’t been holding me in place. “Hey, stop it, you big red pervert!” “Stop what? I haven’t even started yet.” Frowning, he pulled away but then I felt something teasing my other nipple. “Yes, you are!” I exclaimed, twisting to try and get away from him. “You… you’re touching me. Stop it—stop it right now!” “I tell you, I’m not doing a damn thing,” he growled and held up his hands to prove it. I stared at him in disbelief. Sure enough, I could see both his hands and neither one was anywhere near my body. So then who or what was playing with my nipples?

The thought made me wiggle some more just as whatever it was tugged on both of my tender buds, sending sparks of scary pleasure through my whole body. “What the hell?” I gasped, looking down to try and see what was going on. “If you’re not touching me then who is?” “I have no fucking idea. I…wait a minute.” Frowning, Sarden leaned over me and looked at something in a fold of the silver beanbag. “I see what it is,” he said, straightening up and looking back down at me. “When you aimed for my head with that pipe, you hit the bed’s pleasure settings.” “What?” I vaguely ed him saying something about that—about the bed’s pleasure function when he was saying goodnight to me. But the fact that he’d then acted like a huge jerk had driven it clean out of my head. Now I was being reminded of his words—in the most vivid and visceral way possible. “You heard me. Your assassination attempt turned on the bed’s erotic functions,” he repeated and was there a slight smile tugging the corner of his sensual mouth? Yes, there absolutely was, the bastard. “Well turn it off!” I demanded as the silver material of the bed cradled my breasts and teased lightly at the points of my nipples. “No.” Sarden was openly grinning now, a self satisfied smirk pasted to his handsome, Devil-looking face that made me want to slap him. Only I couldn’t get my hands free to do it. “In fact,” he continued, “I think this is an excellent punishment for your attempt on my life. I think I’ll turn the pleasure settings up a bit.” “I told you,” I protested as the perverted beanbag tugged at the hem of my shirt, raising it to bare my sex and breasts for him. “I wasn’t going to kill you! I was just going to chain you up and have Al turn the ship around to take me back to Earth.” “And what makes you think A.L. would obey any order from you?” he growled softly. Putting a fingertip at the hollow of my throat, he began to trace a line of fire down my body, between my breasts and over my trembling stomach and belly. “Well, because…because he likes me,” I said breathlessly. The silver bed had

stepped up its “erotic functions,” cupping my breasts and circling my nipples relentlessly. Between that and the feel of Sarden’s warm finger tracing down my body, I thought I might scream. “Just because he ‘likes’ you doesn’t mean you can get what you want from him,” Sarden murmured in my ear. “We’re a lot alike in that way.” His breath was hot against the side of my neck and I thought I had never felt so naked and exposed. Suddenly it got worse—something was sliding between my thighs—was it the damned beanbag again or was it Sarden? “Stop it!” I demanded breathlessly, my chest heaving. “Don’t…don’t touch me there. You said…you told me you’re not a…a rapist.” “I’m not.” He gave me a dangerous smile. “You have my word that I won’t touch you sexually at all tonight, Zoe. But you’re still going to take your punishment and come for me.” “I…there’s no way!” I protested. “There’s every way,” he murmured. “You’re going to lie here and be pleasured while I watch. I want to see your face while your sweet pussy is teased.” “No,” I protested again but already I could feel the silver bed parting my thighs, baring me to him completely. Oh God, could he see how wet I was? Because I have to it it, I was. I didn’t get off on BDSM and 50 Shades kind of stuff—at least I didn’t think I did. So then why was being restrained and touched while Sarden leaned over me and watched me wiggle and moan making me feel hot and cold and crazy all over? “Oh yes,” he murmured, his long finger still stroking up and down my body, from the hollow of my throat all the way down to the top of my mound. “Yes, my little Pure One, you’re going to come very, very hard. And you’re going to do it while I watch.” “Please…” I whispered but by now the silver bed was touching me between my thighs. The soft, silky material seemed to have formed a kind of finger and I felt it tracing around my outer lips, teasing the neatly trimmed curls on my mound, getting closer and closer to my center.

“Tell me something, Zoe, does it feel good?” Sarden murmured, looking down at me. “Does it feel good to be held down and pleasured? To be touched until you come?” “Of…of course not,” I whispered but the words came out with no force at all. “I don’t believe you,” he murmured. “And now I’m going to kiss you.” “You…you try to kiss me and I’ll bite you. I swear to God I…I will.” My last words came out as a kind of moan because the silver finger between my legs had finally gotten to the point. It was stroking me gently, caressing around and around my aching little button until I thought I might scream. “I’ll take my chances.” With that, Sarden lowered his head and took my mouth in a kiss like nothing I’d ever felt before. It wasn’t just that it he was an alien, or that he was seven feet tall, incredibly muscular and much, much stronger than me—it was the gentle dominance he used when he took me. He didn’t force himself on me or pry my mouth open. No, he started slowly, kissing my lips and nipping them gently, sucking my lower lip into his mouth to bathe it tenderly with his tongue. His breath was warm and smelled like some sweet alien spice I couldn’t name but it reminded me a lot of cinnamon and chili peppers. In fact, his kisses stung just a little bit but they felt good too—so good I almost forgot my promise to bite him. But then part of me spoke up. Hey, you can’t just lay here and let this happen to you! shouted a little voice in my head. You can’t just give in this easily! Fight him! Bite him! The voice was right and I knew it—I couldn’t just give up without a fight! With a little cry, I lifted my head and obeyed my inner badass. I sank my teeth into his full lower lip and started to bite. But just then the silver finger between my legs started circling my clit in long, slow, gentle strokes and my bite turned into an open-mouthed moan.

Sarden took immediate advantage. I felt one big hand tangle in my hair to hold me in place as the other continued to stroke my trembling abdomen and belly. At the same time, his tongue entered my mouth, sliding between my lips to taste me more fully. His kisses were scorching…stinging, reminding me of the hot cinnamon candy I used to love as a little girl that burned my mouth and yet tasted so sweet I couldn’t stop sucking it. Hot Lixx it was called. Somehow I found I was kissing him back although I told myself I really, really didn’t want to. Between my wide-spread thighs the silver finger was stroking faster, pushing me closer to the line I didn’t want to cross. “Please!” I gasped at last when he finally broke the kiss. “Please, make it stop or I’m going to…going to…” “Going to come?” he murmured, his voice rough with lust. “Of course you’re going to come. Didn’t I tell you it’s your punishment?” “But I don’t…don’t want to!” I gasped. I didn’t either—or part of me didn’t. I didn’t like this bastard—he was going to trade me away to some alien slave merchant and I would never see Earth again! There was no way I wanted to give him the satisfaction of making me come. But another part of me was starved for sex and was having a damn hard time resisting. Look, don’t judge me. Have I mentioned it was almost a year since my last uh, encounter? And that was with my ex, Scott, the world’s fastest lover. Seriously, he’d make a jackrabbit jealous when it came to screwing and as for foreplay, well, I don’t think the word was even in his vocabulary. Scott’s idea of sex was to squeeze my boobs a few times, tell me I was “looking hot tonight,” then jump my bones before I was even really ready. A few pumps, a squirt, and a tickle and we could be done before the commercial break was over so he didn’t miss a second of the game. Needless to say, it wasn’t very satisfying. It was also one of the reasons I had broken up with him—although not the only reason. He’d also been a complete slob around the house and ridiculously cheap when it came to money.

But enough about my ex. What I’m trying to tell you is that he never held me down and kissed me like my mouth was the most delicious thing he’d ever tasted. Never spread my legs and teased me so slowly that I thought I would die of pleasure and embarrassment. And he certainly never talked dirty to me, while he looked into my eyes and took sadistic enjoyment from pushing me closer and closer to the point of no return. “Let me go,” I begged Sarden in a moan. “I’m not the one who’s holding you, Zoe,” he reminded me in his deep, growling voice. “You did that to yourself when you hit the bed’s pleasure function. While you were aiming at my head. Are you sorry for that?” “No,” I whispered recklessly, unable to lie, even now. “I’d do it again if it would get…get me back to Earth.” His face darkened for a moment and then he kissed me again, harder this time. I felt the sting of his hot mouth on mine and I couldn’t help opening to him, even though I knew I should bite instead. One big hand tightened in my hair as the other slid up and down my body, using a much firmer stroke than his earlier light, erotic caress. I had the feeling that he really, really wanted to touch me but he was true to his word. Though the silver bed continued to twist and tease my nipples and stroke my swollen clit, his big, warm hands carefully avoided my sexual hot spots. “Please,” I whispered again when he let me come up for air. “Please, I…I can’t…can’t come like this.” “Yes, you can,” he murmured. “And you’re going to.” “No…” I closed my eyes, trying to shut out the sight of him leaning over me, his golden gaze glowing in the dark. “No.” “Yes,” he whispered in my ear. “Now, Zoe—come for me now.” As he spoke, I felt the silver finger between my thighs stroke firmly against the side of my aching clit—moving just the way I moved when I touched myself. How? I thought deliriously as I tipped over the edge at last. How does it know

how to do that? And then all rational thought slipped away and I was coming, coming and crying out in the night because I couldn’t help it…because part of me didn’t want to help it and never wanted it to end. Sarden didn’t say anything else, he just leaned over and took my mouth again, eagerly swallowing my cries and moans as I shook and gasped…as my body took over and I came and came until I couldn’t think any more… I don’t know how long it lasted—it seemed like forever. But at last I felt the pleasure ebbing and my body went limp as I panted, trying to catch my breath. “So beautiful.” I opened my eyes to see him looking down at me, those golden eyes glowing like two candle flames in the dark. “So fucking beautiful when you come, Zoe.” His deep voice was hoarse and the expression on his face was beyond intense. “Let me go,” I whispered brokenly, unable to help begging. “Take me back to Earth—please.” “I can’t,” he murmured and for a moment I thought I saw genuine regret in his eyes. “I told you, I have no choice.” “I don’t understand.” I blinked back tears, trying not to cry. I hate it when I get emotional after sex. It usually only happens when it’s a very intense experience —needless to say I hadn’t shed a single tear with Scott, even though we’d been together for over two years. I hadn’t been with Sarden for a whole twenty-four hours yet and I was already getting weepy—and we hadn’t even really had sex, I reminded myself. Right—tell that to my stupid eyes which insisted on producing tears. I sniffed hard, refusing to let them fall. “I don’t understand,” I said again. “You don’t have to understand.” Sarden’s deep voice was surprisingly gentle.

Up until now, he’d been leaning over me, propped on one elbow. Now he shifted so that he was lying beside me in the silver bed which had thankfully stopped its “erotic functions” after I came. Our heads were even but he was so much taller than me, the tips of my toes only came about to his knees. It made me feel like a little girl beside him. “Sarden…” “Sleep now,” he murmured in my ear. “What? Like this?” I protested. “I can’t…can’t sleep like this,” I said and yawned despite myself. I still had my arms fastened firmly over my head and the black shirt was rucked up, leaving me exposed. “You can and you will.” Sarden’s deep voice was stern. “If I can’t trust you to be alone in your room, you’ll have to stay in mine. It won’t hurt you to stay restrained—the bed will you in every way.” “But I’m cold,” I said. “At least pull down my shirt.” “It’s my shirt. And I won’t pull it down—I like looking at you. I will warm you up, though.” He turned over on his side and put a big, warm hand right in the middle of my belly. It seemed to radiate heat and I felt tingles and tendrils of warmth running through my entire body. His hand was so big that the tops of his fingers were right under my breasts and his palm was down past my belly button. “You bastard,” I said but not as angrily as I wanted to. I really was completely exhausted by this time. I could feel the weariness I’d fought off earlier in order to enact Plan B dragging at me—a slow, relentless tug like the tide pulling me out to sea. “Yes, I’m a bastard,” he agreed amiably enough, his long fingers tracing a lazy pattern across my stomach. “I’ve been meaning to ask—what are these little patches of pigmentation all over your skin? I’ve never seen anything like them.” “They’re called freckles,” I told him. “We don’t like them much on Earth. At least, the people who have them don’t like them.” I yawned again. Even though I was mostly naked in bed with a huge alien, I could hardly keep my eyes open.

“They’re beautiful,” he murmured. “Unique—just like you.” “I…I’m sure Tazaxx will…will think so too,” I said, trying to be sarcastic through my yawns. Even sleepy, I can be snarky—it’s one of my special talents. “I’m sure he will.” Was it my imagination, or did the big alien sound sad? I wanted to ask but my eyelids were so heavy—it felt like someone had dipped them in lead. The last thing I felt was his large, gentle hand stroking my skin and his warm breath in my hair. Then the sleep tide came in completely and dragged me out into a deep sea filled with unfamiliar stars—each of them further away from Earth than the last.

Want more? Of course you do! You can find the rest of ABDUCTED by following the link.

The Alien Mate Index

Hello, and welcome to the Alien Mate Index, the premier site for finding the most exotic, rare, and succulent brides in the galaxy. Here at the AMI, we pride ourselves on offering only the best of the best—those females who were blessed with special abilities by the Ancient Ones, those who seeded our fair galaxy with life, praise their names. We recently have come across a fine new planet, ripe for harvest. For years this planet—called “Earth” by its inhabitants—was locked against us. However, it has recently become accessible and we at the AMI assure you that its females are by far the most desirable of any world we have yet exploited. Why not come and see for yourself? Any female you like can be yours for the asking. They have no idea we are watching them—no idea that at any time we can transport them to our station for the express purpose of becoming mates and concubines to some of the most powerful males in the galaxy. And there is nothing they can do about it. Come today and see our fine selection. I assure you, you won’t be disappointed. Char’noth S’rath, Lead Transportation and Sensitivity Exam Officer, AMI Inc.

Find out more about the Alpha Males of the Alien Mate Index

Are you ready for a whole new race of Alien Warriors? How about 12 new races? From the pen of Evangeline Anderson, the writer who brought you Brides of the Kindred, comes The Alien Mate Index series. Everyone thinks that life on Earth just evolved — Wrong. Our planet, and twelve others, all capable of ing Terran life, was seeded by the Ancient Ones. Then Earth was locked away, kept safe in the cocoon of our ozone layer. But now there’s a gaping hole in our security blanket and guess who’s coming to dinner? That’s right—the Alien warriors of the Twelve Peoples—also descended from the Ancient Ones, are looking for mates and Earth girls are their first choice. So many Alien warriors to pick from. The Vorn: Savage, horned warriors, feared throughout the galaxy, these males can be surprisingly gentle to the females they choose to bond with. Denarins come in pairs—two muscular males who share a psychic bond… and feel the need to share a woman as well The Majorans worship their females as goddesses, the very color of their skin changing with their bonded mate’s mood Braxians are berserkers with black-on-white eyes that can see every spectrum of light. They will defend their females to the last drop of blood in their huge, blue bodies.

Cantors: Most mysterious of the Twelve Peoples, these warriors will literally sweep you of your feet Tvarri: Savage in their lusts, these Alien Warriors demand that a female submits to them utterly. Which type of male would you choose? Too bad you won’t have a choice, because thanks to the Alien Mate Index, an agency that abducts Earth brides for alien males, you could be snatched at any time and turned into a massive warrior’s mate or concubine. So the real question is—who will choose you?

Brides of the Kindred Glossary

AllFather—the evil head of the Scourge, a race that are the byproduct of a failed genetic trade. The AllFather is one of the Old Ones and has the power to reach into a person’s mind to harvest emotional pain and trauma. He lives for the fulfillment of the Scourge Prophesy. Ancient Ones—beings which live in the Deep Blue—the darkest and most inaccessible part of the Rageron jungles. They are sentient but not related in any way to the Kindred. Each Ancient One has two forms—a bipedal form which resembles a human or Kindred and a beast form which can be deadly and they can change between forms at will. The Ancient Ones predate even the First Kindred and revere the skrillix plant, which they guard jealously. Bespeak—to someone mentally using a Think-me device. It is considered rude to bespeak someone you don’t know intimately. Beast / Rager Kindred—come from Rageron—a jungle planet full of beautiful but deadly flora and fauna. They have dark hair, golden eyes, and hot tempers but their most defining characteristic is the mating fist. The mating fist is an area at the base of the Beast Kindred’s shaft which engages fully only during bonding sex with his chosen mate. When engorged it swells to keep the Beast Kindred and his bride locked together until she is completely bonded to him. This ensures sex that is both extremely long lasting and multiorgasmic for both partners. Blackness which Eats the Stars—another name for the Hoard or Grimlax, an ancient enemy of the Kindred. These beings have no souls and so are considered demonic by the Kindred.

Blood Fever—a condition suffered by unmated females on Tranq Prime, the home world of the Blood Kindred. Blood Fever or Burning Blood, as it is often called, is caused by a parasite living on the icy world that affects only women. The parasite—found in the fleeta or blood beetle—reacts with a compound in the Tranq Prime water supply to cause the fever. Symptoms include chills, the feeling of the blood heating in the veins, and increased coloration of the nipples and inner sex. If the fever is not treated in fortyeight hours, it will result in death. Once a Kindred male has had a female’s blood, he forms a natural antidote to Blood Fever which he can on by sharing body fluids with her. The most effective way to get the antidote into the female’s system is for a Blood Kindred to bite her, thereby injecting it along with his essence. However, it is also possible to along the healing fluid through sex. Blood Fever used to be very common on Tranq Prime which is what prompted the cold, proud natives to initiate a genetic exchange with the Kindred in the first place. A recent vaccine has nearly eradicated the disease, however, and the original inhabitants of the ice bound planet have little reason to continue the trade. A faction calling themselves Purists are against any further trade with the Kindred. Blood/Tranq Kindred—are blond with pale blue eyes and come from Tranq Prime where ice, snow, and arctic-like temperatures are the norm. To combat the severe weather conditions, the Blood Kindred have higher than normal body heat with double the human amount of red blood cells. They have developed specific biting rituals to share their supercharged blood and take the blood of their mates during their own version of bonding sex. They have a set of double fangs located where a human’s canine teeth would be. These fangs do not develop fully or become sharp enough to pierce flesh until a Blood Kindred is with a woman he wishes to mate and bond with. Bonding Ceremony—a wedding-type ritual which takes place after the Claiming Period if the bride chosen by a Kindred warrior has allowed him to have bonding sex with her and ed her mind to his.

Bonding Sex—the extra step a Kindred warrior takes to bind his bride to him permanently during intercourse. For the Beast Kindred, it is the use of the mating fist. For the Blood Kindred, bonding sex means sex during penetration. Twin Kindred bind a bride to themselves by entering her and coming in her at the same time. Claiming Ceremony—a sort of engagement service that takes place when a bride is first claimed by a Kindred warrior. He declares his intentions toward her and she vows to obey the laws of the Claiming Period. Claiming Period—women who are drafted are required to go up to the Kindred Mothership and spend a thirty day “claiming period” with the warrior who has chosen them. If, at the end of that time, they have managed to resist the charms of their Kindred mate, they are allowed to go back down to Earth and resume their normal life. However, if they succumb to their Kindred male’s seduction, they are mated for life and must move to the Kindred ship to live, leaving everything else behind and seeing their family and friends on Earth only infrequently. Of course, many women are unwilling to give everything up at the drop of a hat, draft or no draft. But the Kindred have a secret weapon—devotion to their female’s pleasure and attention to detail during incredibly hot sex. Claming Period Rules—The Claiming Period lasts for four weeks during which the Kindred warrior attempts to seduce his chosen bride and she tries to resist him: The Holding Week: the Kindred warrior may hold his bride. The Bathing Week: the warrior and his bride bathe together and he is allowed to massage her with scented oils and make her come. The Tasting Week: the warrior is allowed to perform oral sex on his bride. The Bonding Week: sex is allowed but it is completely up to the bride whether she will take things a step further and allow bonding sex which is a special and specific process to the three different types of Kindred males. (Most women have

given in well before this point but a few do resist.) The only way out before the claiming period is up is a breach of contract. This can happen if the Kindred warrior does not strictly follow the rules and tries to skip forward in the order of allowed events or by breaking one of the rules laid down by the Kindred High Council. These rules—mostly to do with restrictions on communication with Earth—are for the safety of everyone aboard the Mothership and are nonnegotiable. Ignorance is no excuse for breaking them and will result in immediate termination of the claiming period. Convo-pillar—A half inch long insect which resembles a brightly colored caterpillar. Convo-pillars were genetically engineered by traders on the fringe colonies around Rageron to translate alien languages by communicating via thought waves to their wearer’s brain. They have been outlawed by the Kindred High Council because their notoriously unreliable translations cause more conflicts than they solve. Dark Kindred –also known as Enhanced Ones—this faction of the Kindred race broke off centuries ago when there was a shortage of viable females to call for brides. Vowing to overcome their sexual urges, the Dark Kindred made a genetic trade with the cyborg-like residents of Zeaga Four who are ruled by a group of sentient machines called the Collective. Since all emotion is prohibited on Zeaga Four, the organic inhabitants get emotion damper implants to keep them from committing Feel-crime. Anyone found guilty of Feel-crime without a special dispensation from the Collective may be summarily purged. Deep Blue—the darkest and most inaccessible part of the Rageron jungles Dream Sharing—occurs when a Kindred warrior’s mind aligns with that of his bride and they begin to see each other’s day to day activities and memories in their sleep. However, the alignment of the two (or three in the case of the Twin Kindred) minds can take several forms and is not limited to sleep.

Fireflower Juice—an alcoholic beverage made from the Fireflower plant native to Rageron. It resembles milk in appearance but has the flavor of honey, vanilla, lavender and blueberries. High Councilor—the rightful ruler and defender of the Kindred home planet, First World. Only the High Councilor may sit upon the throne of wisdom and see with the eye of foreknowledge. Without a High Councilor in place, First World and the rest of the Kindred race cannot be adequately protected against the evil machinations of the Hoard. Hoard—an ancient enemy of the First Kindred also known as the Grimlax or the Blackness between the Stars, they are evil, demonic beings with ravenous appetites and a desire to conquer, devour, and destroy every living thing in the universe. They are divided into tribes with the lowest echelon being the most numerous and primitive. The elite or upper echelon tribes are more sophisticated and intelligent but also much more dangerous. They are notoriously manipulative and able to change their appearances using a technique called “shadowing” to look like anyone or anything they choose. The Kindred—a race of genetic traders who have traveled the universe for centuries looking for viable matches to expand their gene pool. Since a genetic anomaly ensures that their population is ninety-five percent male, they are specifically looking for women. The three genetic trades the Kindred have already made have resulted in three very specific types of men. But though they take on some of the physical characteristics of the race they are trading with, the Kindred gene always ensures three things: physical prowess, extremely large and muscular body structure, and undying loyalty to the female of their choice. Krik-ka-re—a Scourge tradition in which the mind life of one being may be traded for or ransomed by another. Kusax—a special knife made from the tainted metal at the core of the Scourge

home planet. One scratch can be deadly as it infects the wounded person with a soul poison which ensures a slow, agonizing death. Law of Conduct—the Kindred law which says every warrior is responsible for the good behavior of his bride and gives him the right to punish her— within reason. Often the “punishment” is sexual in nature and some brides become serial offenders simply to experience their Kindred warrior’s particular form of discipline. ; ) Luck Kiss—a kiss performed by the best man and maid of honor at a Kindred Bonding Ceremony in order to bring the happy couple good luck. Mate of my kin—the way Kindred warriors refer to the brides chosen by their brothers. It is analogous to the English term sister-in-law. Marks of Possession—the Scourge way of marking a female as their mate. The Marks of Possession include a close-fitting collar, piercings in the nipples and clitoral hood, and a brand on the inner hip or the top of the buttocks. Scourge with Kindred blood also desire to scent-mark their mates but they require the traditional marks of their kind to really feel bonded to the female of their choice. Mother of All Life—the main Kindred Deity, a kind and benevolent goddess whose teachings include respect and reverence for all things female. Numala—a Blood Kindred name which means “liquid pussy.” It refers to a female who produces more than the regular amount of lubrication when aroused. Numalas are much prized by the Blood Kindred and sought after as mates because they are more likely to be able to accommodate a Blood Kindred warrior’s larger than average cock. Psychic-Knife—a torture device developed by the Scourge that is able to break

the mental and emotional bond between a Kindred and his bride. Rage—also Protective Rage or Berserker Rage—a state of altered consciousness that comes over a Kindred warrior when his bride is threatened. It floods the bloodstream with endorphins and causes such intense anger and aggression that a Kindred in this state becomes a killing machine who will die to protect the woman he has claimed. Sacred Grove—an area of green and purple trees that houses the temple of the Mother of All Life. The Kindred Mother ship has been equipped with an artificial green sun like the one on their home world in order to allow these holy trees to grow and flourish. Scourge—a genetic trade gone wrong, these menacing outsiders have twisted desires and sexual needs fierce enough to frighten away even the most adventurous. Their need to dominate and possess their women completely has led to a strange prophesy that they must fulfill…or die trying. Scourge Prophesy—“One of two, alike and yet different—the double fruit of a single womb from the third planet of a yellow sun. She shall be marked with a white star between her breasts.” These words were spoken by Mee’ah —the last living female of the Scourge race who was believed to be a great seer. The Scourge are a dying race, forced to create new in test tubes and artificial wombs because they have no females. Yet, because they have some of the same genetic characteristics as the Kindred they are able to create only male children and each new generation is weaker than the last. The prophesy refers to the woman the Scourge believe will be able to mate with the AllFather and bear only daughters to rejuvenate their race. Skrillix Plant—also known as the Pain Vine. This plant is found only in the heart of the Rageron jungles called the Deep Blue. The brilliant crimson berries of the skrillix are said to cure many illnesses, including stasis sickness and can also dissolve an improperly placed or artificial soul bond. The thorns are said to be as poisonous as the berries are helpful. One prick

from a skrillix thorn can give waking nightmares, forcing the victim to relive painful memories. When minds are linked by the juice of the berries, these visions can be shared with others who can witness them via a chemically induced neural link. Take-me—an animal native to Twin Moons that has been domesticated by the Kindred for transportation aboard their ship. The Take-me has green fur and two heads, one on either end. Each head has three purple eyes. The Take-me has the unique features of being to expand and compress its mass which makes it ideal for storage. Because they originally lived in caves, most Take-mes stay very contentedly in small dark areas in the Kindred food prep areas where they live off the scraps and leavings of their master’s meals. They can eat almost anything except banana peels which they are allergic to. Tharp—an animal that looks very much like a thin fur blanket which can be worn as a garment. Tharps are cultivated on Tranq Prime and prized for their ability to multiply their host’s body heat and keep them warm in even the most frigid conditions. A tharp can be worn by only one person— as a neophyte or youngster it imprints upon a host and will slowly starve if parted from them. Tharps are intelligent and capable of limited movement. They live as long as their host and subsist only on body heat, needing no other form of sustenance to survive. Think-Me—a thin silver wire worn around the temples which facilitates mental communication between people who already have an intimate connection. Touch-U—a flat black mat-like animal native to Tranq Prime which the Kindred have adapted to be a home health appliance. The Touch-U is capable of giving a gentle massage or an all-out erotic experience depending on which button is pushed. Twin Kindred—come from Twin Moons—a world of vast, stormy oceans dotted with craggy but beautiful islands. True to their namesake, Twin Kindred always come in pairs. The brothers are not identical, however.

There is always a light twin and a dark twin. These labels refer not just to skin, hair, and eye coloring but to the twin’s moods and perceptions of the world. The dark twin in the pair is usually more moody and withdrawn while the light twin takes a substantially brighter view of life. The twins are closely linked and able to sense each other’s emotions. They cannot be separated by long distances or for long periods of time without severe pain. They must also share a woman, linking her into their mental and emotional exchange for very intense ménage sex. Urlich—a type of dog bred by the Scourge. At maturity they are modified with machinery to heighten their sense of smell and intelligence which results in a cyborg-type animal. Once in pursuit of whatever scent has been programmed into their brains, the urlich are utterly single minded and incapable of stopping until their prey has been cornered and captured. Wave—a Kindred cooking appliance which emits thousands of finely collimated beams of heat to cook food in under a minute. Zichther—an animal native to the jungles of Rageron, the zichther resembles a small bright blue teddy bear in appearance until it opens its mouth and reveals three rows of incredibly sharp, shark-like teeth.

Give a Hot Kindred Warrior to a Friend!

Do you love the Kindred? Do you want to talk about wishing you could go live on the Mother Ship without your friends thinking you're crazy? Well, now it's super easy to get them into the Kindred universe. Just share this link, https://bookhip.com/HLNPTP, with them to Claimed, the first book in my Brides of the Kindred series for FREE. No strings attached—I don't even want to collect their email for my newsletter. I just want you to be able to share the Kindred world with your besties and have fun doing it. Hugs and Happy Reading! Evangeline

Sign up for my newsletter and you'll be the first to know when a new book comes out or I have some cool stuff to give away. Don't worry—I won't share your email with anyone else, I'll never spam you (way too busy writing books) and you can unsubscribe at any time. As a thank-you gift you'll get a free copy of BONDING WITH THE BEAST delivered to your inbox right away. In the next days I'll also send you free copies of CLAIMED, book 1 in the Brides of Kindred series, and ABDUCTED, the first book in my Alien Mate Index series.

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Also by Evangeline Anderson

Below you'll find a list of available and titles. But depending on when you read this list, new books will have come out by then that are not listed here. Make sure to check my website for the latest releases and better yet, sign up for my newsletter to never miss a new book again.

Brides of the Kindred series

(Sci-Fi / Action-Adventure Romance)

CLAIMED (Also Available in Audio)

HUNTED (Also Available in Audio)

SOUGHT (Also Available in Audio)

FOUND (Also Available in Audio)

REVEALED (Also Available in Audio)

PURSUED (Also Available in Audio)

EXILED (Also Available in Audio)

SHADOWED (Also Available in Audio)

CHAINED (Also Available in Audio)

DIVIDED (Also Available in Audio)

DEVOURED (Also Available in Audio)

ENHANCED (Also Available in Audio)

CURSED (Also Available in Audio)

ENSLAVED (Also Available in Audio)

TARGETED (Also Available in Audio)

FORGOTTEN (Coming Soon in Audio)

SWITCHED

UNCHARTED

UNBOUND

SURRENDERED

VANISHED

IMPRISONED

TWISTED

DECEIVED

BRIDES OF THE KINDRED VOLUME ONE

Contains Claimed, Hunted, Sought and Found

BRIDES OF THE KINDRED VOLUME TWO

Contains Revealed, Pursued and Exiled

BRIDES OF THE KINDRED VOLUME THREE

Contains Shadowed, Chained and Divided

BRIDES OF THE KINDRED VOLUME FOUR

Contains Devoured, Enhanced and Cursed

BRIDES OF THE KINDRED VOLUME FIVE

Contains Enslaved, Targeted and Forgotten

BRIDES OF THE KINDRED VOLUME SIX

Contains Switched, Uncharted and Unbound

BRIDES OF THE KINDRED VOLUME SEVEN

Contains Surrendered, Vanished, and Imprisoned

All Kindred novels are now available in PRINT.

Also, all Kindred novels are on their way to Audio, my Audiobook

Newsletter to be notified when they come out.

Kindred Tales

The Kindred Tales are side stories in the Brides of the Kindred series which stand alone outside the main story arc.

These can be read as STAND ALONE novels.

MASTERING THE MISTRESS (Also Available in Audio)

BONDING WITH THE BEAST (Also Available in Audio)

SEEING WITH THE HEART (Also Available in Audio)

FREEING THE PRISONER (Also Available in Audio)

HEALING THE BROKEN (a Kindred Christmas novel) (Also Available in Audio)

TAMING THE GIANT (Also Available in Audio)

BRIDGING THE DISTANCE (Also Available in Audio)

LOVING A STRANGER (Also Available in Audio)

FINDING THE JEWEL (Also Available in Audio)

BONDED BY ACCIDENT (Also Available in Audio)

RELEASING THE DRAGON (Also Available in Audio)

SHARING A MATE (Also Available in Audio)

INSTRUCTING THE NOVICE (Also Available in Audio)

AWAKENED BY THE GIANT (Also Available in Audio)

HITTING THE TARGET (Also Available in Audio)

HANDLING THE HYBRID

TRAPPED IN TIME

TIME TO HEAL

PAIRING WITH THE PROTECTOR

FALLING FOR KINDRED CLAUS

GUARDING THE GODDESS

STEALING HER HEART

KINDRED TALES VOLUME 1

Contains Mastering the Mistress, Bonding with the Beast and Seeing with the Heart

KINDRED TALES VOLUME 2

Contains Freeing the Prisoner, Healing the Broken and Taming the Giant

KINDRED TALES VOLUME 3

Contains Bridging the Distance, Loving a Stranger and Finding the Jewel

KINDRED TALES VOLUME 4

Contains Bonded by Accident, Releasing the Dragon, and Sharing a Mate

KINDRED TALES VOLUME 5

Contains Instructing the Novice, Awakened by the Giant, and Hitting the Target

KINDRED TALES VOLUME 6

Contains Handling the Hybrid, Trapped in Time, and Time to Heal

Born to Darkness series

(Paranormal / Action-Adventure Romance)

CRIMSON DEBT (Also Available in Audio)

SCARLET HEAT (Also Available in Audio)

RUBY SHADOWS (Also Available in Audio)

CARDINAL SINS (coming soon)

DESSERT (short novella following Scarlet Heat)

(Also Available in Audio)

BORN TO DARKNESS BOX SET

Contains Crimson Debt, Scarlet Heat, and Ruby Shadows all in one volume

Alien Mate Index series

(Sci-Fi / Action-Adventure Romance)

ABDUCTED (Also Available in Audio)

PROTECTED (Also Available in Audio)

DESCENDED (Also Available in Audio)

SEVERED (Also Available in Audio)

ALIEN MATE INDEX VOLUME ONE

Contains Abducted, Protected, Descended and Severed all in one volume

All Alien Mate novels are now available in PRINT.

The Cougarville series

(Paranormal / Action-Adventure Romance)

(Older Woman / Younger Man

BUCK NAKED (Also Available in Audio)

COUGAR BAIT (Also Available in Audio)

STONE COLD FOX (Also Available in Audio)

BIG BAD WOLF (coming soon)

The CyBRG Files with Mina Carter

(Sci-Fi / Action-Adventure Romance)

UNIT 77: BROKEN (Also Available in Audio)

UNIT 78: RESCUED (Also Available in Audio)

The Institute series

(Daddy-Dom / Age Play Romance)

THE INSTITUTE: DADDY ISSUES

(Also Available in Audio)

THE INSTITUTE: MISHKA’S SPANKING

The Swann Sister Chronicles

(Contemporary Fairy / Funny / Fantasy Romance)

WISHFUL THINKING (Also Available in Audio)

BE CAREFUL WHAT YOU WISH FOR (Also available in Audio)

Nocturne Academy

(Young Adult Paranormal/Action-Adventure/Romance)

LOCK AND KEY

FANG AND CLAW

STONE AND SECRET (Coming Soon)

Detectives Valenti and O’Brian

(1980s M/M Romance)

THE ASSIGNMENT

I’LL BE HOT FOR CHRISTMAS

FIREWORKS

THE ASSIGNMENT: HEART AND SOUL

Compendiums and Box Sets

ALIEN MATE INDEX VOLUME ONE

Contains Abducted, Protected, Descended and Severed all in one volume

BORN TO DARKNESS BOX SET

Contains Crimson Debt, Scarlet Heat, and Ruby Shadows all in one volume

BRIDES OF THE KINDRED VOLUME ONE

Contains Claimed, Hunted, Sought and Found

BRIDES OF THE KINDRED VOLUME TWO

Contains Revealed, Pursued and Exiled

BRIDES OF THE KINDRED VOLUME THREE

Contains Shadowed, Chained and Divided

BRIDES OF THE KINDRED VOLUME FOUR

Contains Devoured, Enhanced and Cursed

BRIDES OF THE KINDRED VOLUME FIVE

Contains Enslaved, Targeted and Forgotten

BRIDES OF THE KINDRED VOLUME SIX

Contains Switched, Uncharted and Unbound

HAVE YOURSELF A SEXY LITTLE CHRISTMAS

Contains Kidnapped for Christmas, Cougar Christmas and Season’s Spankings

KINDRED TALES VOLUME 1

Contains Mastering the Mistress, Bonding with the Beast and Seeing with the

Heart

KINDRED TALES VOLUME 2

Contains Freeing the Prisoner, Healing the Broken and Taming the Giant

KINDRED TALES VOLUME 3

Contains Bridging the Distance, Loving a Stranger and Finding the Jewel

KINDRED TALES VOLUME 4

Contains Bonded by Accident, Releasing the Dragon, and Sharing a Mate

KINDRED TALES VOLUME 5

Contains Instructing the Novice, Awakened by the Giant, and Hitting the Target

KINDRED TALES VOLUME 6

Contains Handling the Hybrid, Trapped in Time, and Time to Heal

NAUGHTY TALES: THE COLLECTION— Volume One

Contains Putting on a Show, Willing Submission, The Institute: Daddy Issues, The Institute: Mishka's Spanking, Confessions of a Lingerie Model, Sin Eater, Speeding Ticket, Stress Relief and When Mr. Black Comes Home.

ONE HOT HALLOWEEN

Contains Red and the Wolf, Gypsy Moon and Taming the Beast

ONE HOT HALLOWEEN Vol.2

Contains The Covenant, Secret Thirst, and Kristen’s Addiction + BONUS: Madeline’s Mates

Stand Alone Titles

(Sci-Fi OR Paranormal Action-Adventure Romance)

ANYONE U WANT

BEST KEPT SECRETS (Step-Brother romance)

BLIND DATE WITH A VAMPIRE

BLOOD KISS

CEREMONY OF THREE

DEAL WITH THE DEVIL (Also Available in Audio)

DEFILED

EYES LIKE A WOLF (Foster Brother romance)

FOREVER BROKEN (M/M romance)

GYPSY MOON

HUNGER MOON RISING

MADELINE’S MATES

MARKED

OUTCAST

PLANET X (Also Available in Audio)

PLEASURE PLANET

PLEDGE SLAVE (M/M romance)

PURITY (Also Available in Audio)

RED AND THE WOLF

SECRET THIRST

SEX WITH STRANGERS

SHADOW DREAMS

SLAVE BOY (M/M romance)

STRESS RELIEF

SWEET DREAMS

TAMING THE BEAST

TANDEM UNIT

THE BARGAIN

THE COVENANT

THE LAST BITE (M/M romance)

THE LAST MAN ON EARTH

THE LOST BOOKS (M/M romance)

THE PLEASURE PALACE

THE SACRIFICE (Also Available in Audio)

Stand Alone Titles

(Contemporay Romance)

A SPANKING FOR VALENTINE (BDSM)

BOUND AND DETERMINED, anthology with Lena Matthews, includes The Punishment of Nicollett

COUGAR CHRISTMAS (Older Woman / Younger Man)

DANGEROUS CRAVINGS (BDSM)

DIRTY GIRL

FULL EXPOSURE (with Lena Matthews)

KIDNAPPED FOR CHRISTMAS (BDSM)

MASKS, contains The Man in the Leather Mask and Masks (BDSM)

MORE THAN FRIENDS (BDSM)

PICTURE PERFECT (Step-Brother romance)

STR8TE BOYS (M/M romance)

Naughty Tales

(Short Reads to Get You Hot and Bothered)

CONFESSIONS OF A LINGERIE MODEL

PUTTING ON A SHOW (Step-Brother romance)

SIN EATER

SPEEDING TICKET

THE SWITCH (An erotic interlude with the characters of DANGEROUS CRAVINGS)

SEASON’S SPANKINGS

WHEN MR. BLACK COMES HOME

WILLING SUBMISSION

NAUGHTY TALES: THE COLLECTION— Volume One

Contains Putting on a Show, Willing Submission, The Institute: Daddy Issues, The Institute: Mishka's Spanking, Confessions of a Lingerie Model, Sin Eater, Speeding Ticket, Stress Relief and When Mr. Black Comes Home.

YA Novels

THE ACADEMY (Also Available in Audio)

About the Author

Evangeline Anderson is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of the Brides of the Kindred, Alien Mate Index, Cougarville and Born to Darkness series. She is forty-something and lives in Florida with a husband, a son, and two cats. She had been writing erotic fiction for her own gratification for a number of years before it occurred to her to try and get paid for it. To her delight, she found that it was actually possible to get money for having a dirty mind and she has been writing paranormal and sci-fi erotica steadily ever since.

You can find her online at her website www.evangelineanderson.com

Come visit for some free reads. Or, to be the first to find out about new books, her newsletter. She’s also got a mailing list for updates on audio books.