Rejar (4 page)

Rejar could not believe what he was witnessing.

Still in cat form, he had run to the child, but it was too late. The boy died in the gutter.

Not one person stopped to see or help.

He stayed by the child, curled up to his side for the few moments it had taken the precious life to leave his body. It seemed to him the boy had smiled to him sweetly, just before he ...

Rejar had gone into an alleyway and thrown up.

Well he would remember the face of the man who owned the coach. It was a face he would never forget, with cruel, dark eyes and sneering lips. He vowed he would find this man, and when he did, make him pay for his heinous crime.

Rejar recalled some of the other injustices he had seen: An old man hung by the neck for stealing food while onwatchers cheered at his suffering. ... On the streets, a rich man’s throat slit just for a few coins. ... Homeless children wandering aimlessly through the alleys, begging and worse....

It went on and on.

How could he exist in such a world?

He had no qualms about his ability to defend himself and what was his. His father had trained him well, making especially sure his half-breed Familiar son knew how to wield a weapon and how to fight for his own protection.

Against his wife’s wishes, Krue had brought his son up an Aviaran warrior. Later, his blood relative, Gian, had taught him the secret ways of the Familiar kill-hunt as well.

No, he had no qualms whatsoever about his physical survival.

But spiritually? This place was an assault on both his Familiar senses and sensibilities. Life seemed not precious at all to these people who squandered their resources so carelessly.

To be fair, in his travels he had seen many planets outside of the Alliance which were equally savage, although none had been quite so ignorant regarding their own savagery. Just the opposite. Such planets had a tendency to revel in their barbarism. Not this one.

It was curious to note how civilized these people proclaimed themselves. They disdained anyone outside their enlightened society; their “ton.”

Rejar already knew what he must do to survive. He must assume the persona of a man of position and means, for this world would never recognize him otherwise, and the alternative was unthinkable.

A position of recognition would also place him above the close scrutiny of others. This was imperative in this particular society whose fears and superstitions could easily turn against him.

He believed he had already found the right man to lead him into his new life. The man had first caught his attention while Rejar was observing a place where men went to wager vast sums of specie, a popular pastime here for men of fortune, it seemed.

Somewhat younger than Rejar, the man had a certain status within the society and his reckless passions perfectly lent themselves to Rejar’s purposes. At first, he thought the man’s name was George Gordon Noel, but later found out he was called Lord Byron. He was a baron, which Rejar learned was a title of some respect in this society.

Knowing this, Rejar had chosen his new identity with particular care. There was a distant land here called Russia. It was not easily accessible to these people, making it difficult for anyone to check on his story.

He had studied these people well, picking out the nuances which would allow him to appear to blend in with the society. It was a gift of his kind; another trait for which the mystics of the Charl sought out the Familiar.

Furthermore, his new identity would allow him easy access to Lilac; a situation he greatly desired. It was time for the hunt to progress.

His gold/blue eyes drifted to the bed again.

She had become a comfort to him in this strange new world. This house, a small haven from the madness outside.

He was grateful it was her and not another he had first come upon, for she was not like a lot of the other women he had observed here thus far. Lilac was genuinely kind and did not seem to care much for the socializing aspects of her society, preferring to stay at home sitting in the garden with only her “cat” for company.

He rather looked forward to those peaceful hours. With her gentle voice reading to him aloud from some book ... This Fanny Bumey seemed to be a special favorite of hers.

He smiled fondly as he remembered her exuberance for the prose which seemed somewhat melodramatic to him.

From the day he had come to this world, Rejar had held her protectively in his arms each and every night, keeping his own disturbing thoughts at bay. Their scents intermingled, and as the nights wore on she unconsciously began accepting him in her sleep more and more.

He liked the soft feel of her thin night garment next to his naked skin. Better still, were it skin to skin.

Such thoughts reminded him of how long it had been since he had enjoyed intimate pleasure.

Since intimate pleasure was never far from a Familiar’s mind, he wondered why he was not bothered more by his forced abstinence. For even amongst the Familiar, whose sexual appetites were legendary, Rejar was often remarked upon.

The truth was, Rejar simply loved women.

All women.

He loved the way they looked; the way they smelled; the softness of their skin; the gentleness of their touch.

Women responded to Rejar on an instinctual level. He was never unkind. He was unfailingly mindful of their pleasure. He was virtually unstoppable sexually, having the ability of ultra energy levels. Not to mention incredibly innovative and commandingly sensual. Women adored him. And he adored them. Rejar was often told by his lovers that he did not make love like other men.

If such were true, he could not say.

He knew only that for him, each time he engaged in the act, it was more than an exploration of the senses; it was an immersion of his being. Rejar reveled in textures and tastes; color of hair, skintones, shape of features, expressions of personality... in short, women.

He enjoyed them all equally well, knowing without a doubt that no one woman could ever be enough for him.

To Rejar ta’al Krue, variety was not only the spice of life, it was the sugar as well.

So, why was he not at all concerned by his abstinence?

He unfurled himself from the windowseat with the unconsciously lithe grace of the Familiar, padding barefoot to the bed. Where did this restlessness come from? This dissatisfaction?

Sinking to his knees on the carpet bedside the bed, he lightly rested his elbows on the mattress and curiously gazed down upon Lilac’s face.

Her generous mouth was slightly parted as she slept.

Rejar briefly thought of dipping his tongue between those enticingly parted lips. He knew he could not do that, of course, so for the time being he settled with just looking at her.

Long gold-tipped lashes covered those forest green eyes of hers. ...

His little bit of Aviara.

A wave of homesickness washed over him. It was so acute, he could not stop himself from brushing his mouth lightly across her eyelids. No matter how long it took the mystic Yaniff to find him, it comforted him to know he would always have his little bit of Aviara here in Lilac’s eyes.

When he felt her lashes flutter against his lips, he pulled back to watch her come awake.

Those expressive green eyes opened, slowly focusing on him. He held his breath as she gazed upon him for the first time, wanting the moment to last; knowing he could not allow it.

When her eyes widened with the beginnings of cognizance, he immediately sent a mesmerizing thought to her.

{You are dreaming.}

She blinked in confusion. Her mouth parted. “I...”

He sent the thought again. {You are dreaming. Lilac.}

He waited to see if she took his suggestion.

There were some who were immune to this suggestive technique. His father and brother Lorgin, for instance, were impervious to it. But then, most Charls were. You could not tamper with a Charl’s mind.

Rejar could not help but smile when he suddenly recalled the first time he had tried it on his own father when he was a young boy. He wanted to see if he could “suggest” his father into forgetting some mischief he had caused. It had backfired on him with predictable results. His father had been doubly furious with him, incensed that he had the audacity to attempt it on him.

He hoped Lilac would be susceptible. He did not think she would respond favorably to the knowledge of his presence in her bed.

Indeed, these past weeks she had often spoken aloud of her utter distaste for the males of her society.

However, she had yet to meet him.

“I—I think I’m dreaming.” She raised a slender hand to her forehead.

Good. It was working. She was susceptible to him.

Although he had never used this technique in quite this way before, Rejar knew that the greater the physical contact between them, the more she would remember her dream experience. Once he physically entered her, he would completely lose this type of suggestive ability over her.

But then there were many intriguing things you could suggest to someone with their full knowledge.

A slow, feral smile inched across his handsome face. She would not have distaste for this male.

Lilac spoke to him, interrupting his pleasant analysis.

“Do I know you, sir?”

“Oh, yes.” He rakishly winked at her.

“I do?” She was perplexed. “I think I would have remembered you had we met. You’re quite beauti—Why don’t you have any clothes on?!”

And would not his father be most displeased with him for this little bit of mischief. Rejar chuckled. What could he do? He was a Familiar.

“Do you think I need them?” he asked her not-so-innocently.

She seemed to mull this over for a moment. “I don’t suppose so, since this is only a dream; but still, it seems most improper.”

Leaning over her, he whispered, “I like being most improper.”

Lilac amused him by whispering back, “I think I might like it too.”

While under the trance, a subject reacted freely to situations in which normally they might be inclined to be slightly more reserved. However, the true nature of the person always remained. Yes, he chuckled, she was much like him.

Rejar grinned, revealing two roguish dimples. “I have never doubted this.” Standing, he lifted the covers to climb inside.

Lilac gaped at him with eyes suddenly gone huge.

“What is it, Lilac?”

“You—you—you don’t—you—”

Rejar had no way of knowing Lilac had never seen a naked man before. Even in her dreams. He wondered what was upsetting her so—until his gaze followed the finger she pointed directly at the source of her discomfiture.

He looked down, then back at her, confused. “This?”

“That,” she confirmed.

“Why?”

“It’s ... so big!”

Even though it was one he had heard often in the past, Rejar, like any Familiar, preened at the compliment. “If you say.”

“Huge, really,” Lilac continued, viewing the thing with a mixture of fascination and repulsed awe.

Rejar was starting to feel uncomfortable. Why was the woman staring at him so intently? Perhaps he was endowed, but she was peering at him as if he were oddly made in some way. Were the men here so very different? If so, it boded well for him.

Indeed, he would become very popular.

“Actually, enormous!” she went on, her fingers splaying across her lips in wonder. “I can’t believe the size of—”

He was getting annoyed. After all, it was his manhood! “That is enough!” He bellowed. “It is not seemly to inspect a man so intently!”

“Oh. Sorry.” Lilac drooped down into the covers.

“Fine.”

Rejar settled in beside her, taking her in his arms. Lilac braced her palms against his broad, golden-skinned chest, looking earnestly up at him.

“Why not?” she asked.

“Why not what?”

“Why is it not ‘seemly’ to examine a man’s ... part?”

The corners of his lips curled up. “You may examine my ‘part’ all you like, sweet Lilac, just do not discuss it as if it did not have feelings.”

She did not seem to understand his humor.

“You may touch it, if such is your desire,” he clarified. She did not respond the way he had hoped. In fact, for some reason, Lilac seemed quite horrified with the prospect.

“Touch it yourself!”

Rejar stared at her incredulously. What was wrong with the woman? Truly, her reactions were most strange.

Deciding to ignore her outburst, he ran his hands down her back, stopping to cup her rounded buttocks in his palms. They were a nice handful. Soon he would remove this garment she was wearing so he could—

“What on Earth are you doing! Stop that at once!”

Rejar froze. A woman’s objection was so foreign to him that he stared at her gape-mouthed. “You do not like the touching of my hands?”

“I most certainly do not! Let me go!” She tried to break his hold on her. Failing that, she glared up at him. The intensity of the glare was somewhat spoiled by the hank of hair that fell over her eyes.

Hmm. He must think on this puzzle a moment.

It was a cosmic truth that woman were not predictable. It was one of the traits which made them so fascinating to the male Familiar—but this reaction others didn’t make any sense; she was a sensual woman. Unless ...

“You have been with unschooled men in the past, have you not? Men who do not know how to please you?”

“What—Whatever do you mean?”

Yes, that was it then. It would explain her present attitudes regarding men. Rejar sighed dramatically. How often the male Familiar are called upon to undo the fumblings of other men!

His white teeth flashed in a sudden grin. It was a terrible job, but someone in the universe had to do it.

He patiently removed the strand of hair from her face by smoothing it back behind her brow. {I will show you what I mean.}

Lilac gasped. “How did you do that? You spoke without speaking!”

{I can send my thoughts to you.}

“Simply amazing! Why, I never realized how imaginative I am! Now I’ll send something to you.”

{You cannot.}

“Why not? It is my dream, isn’t it? I shall do as I please! What did I just say?”