“Why the whispers?” Ahote gave the vampire a friendly smile as he returned, dressed and in civil form, but she knew the welcoming grin was false. “Making intimate plans?” He poked Benic’s hand on her arm with his sharp fingernail.
“Something of that nature.” Benic’s hand lingered on her arm a moment longer before dropping. He didn’t have a chance against Ahote in a challenge. Shifters were born fighters. Or at least, that’s what she’d always been told. But Benic hadn’t smelled of fear while in Ahote’s grasp.
Then again, vampires won their wars with words and tricks.
She groaned internally at the thought and glared at the fanged ferret. The sneak had almost convinced her to storm Apisi lands with his sweet words. By sowing doubts in her heart, Benic would have changed her mind.
Constant vigilance was needed when dealing with Benic. He knew how to manipulate others with his will, and a lonely female shifter could easily fall into his traps.
She retreated from both males. “No plans. He is just voicing his concerns for Susan’s welfare.”
Benic snorted and bowed slightly to her. “I’ll be in my room if you wish to finish our discussion.”
Kele watched him climb the closest set of stairs.
“Be careful of that one.” Ahote spoke softly by her ear.
She glanced at her primary guard. “Benic is just frustrated he isn’t getting his way. Let him sulk.”
“I don’t know what mischief he’s trying to involve you in but that’s not what I’m worried about.” He gestured to her body. “I don’t like the way his eyes follow you.”
“Me?” She laughed. Benic liked to flirt but he’d never expressed any real interest in her. “He’s harmless in regards to seducing me, Ahote.”
“Bloodsuckers are many things but harmless isn’t one of them.” He held her gaze for a moment before strolling farther into the den.
She remained in the deep shadows of the trees, pretending not to notice as he sat next to a homely omega female who was darning some clothing. The female set it aside when Ahote joined her.
A few whispered words in her ear, and she followed him away from her chores.
Sighing, Kele crossed her arms. Not that she’d ever bed Ahote, but it would be nice if someone asked. Being a virgin was becoming tedious. She grabbed her braid and gave it a hard tug. Why shouldn’t she ask one of the unmated hunters to her room? Because she wished someone would ask her, want her.
None of the males viewed Kele as a potential mate. They saw the daughter of their overbearing alphas and a defective shifter who owned no feral side. She wiped a stray tear from her cheek before anyone could see it. Weakness was her enemy.
The chime of chains drew her attention from the doorway Ahote and his new lover had escaped through. Benic stomped down the stairs carrying his travel bag.
Now what?
The vampire frowned, appearing deep in thought as he approached her, and tossed the bag at her feet.
“Leaving so soon? I thought you’d stay and join us at the Temple.” She kept her tone light and uninterested but it was a lie. Benic’s curiosity ruled him. She doubted he would leave Susan alone until all his questions were answered.
“I’m going home.” He smelled of truth once more.
She raised her eyebrows. “Oh.” His honesty shocked her so much she forgot to mask her disappointment. She’d miss his devious company, no matter how irritating.
He stepped closer, pushing her farther into the garden’s shadows.
The hard wall of the den stopped her retreat. She couldn’t take a deep breath around the band of anticipation constricting her lungs.
He cupped her cheek, his body so close it sent tingles of alarm through her skin. “Come home with me.”
All her usual witty retorts vanished. “What?” Warmth ignited in her lower abdomen. Ahote had been right. She took a shaky breath. What would her mother think if she took Benic as a lover? Oh the rebellious havoc that would cause.
With his thumb, he stroked her face. Tender and slow, his touch awakened a need between her thighs.
“I—I can’t, Benic. The scandal would be fun…but my father.”
“Let me handle your father.” He leaned toward her. “What do you want?” His lips almost brushed hers.
Lightheaded from the lack of air, Kele braced her hands against the wall. “I don’t know.” She wanted a mate, a true bonding of hearts and souls. Like her parents. Benic would never fulfill those desires.
He closed the short distance, melding their mouths in a sweet kiss. His lips were soft and full as they moved over hers, tasting exotic and male. Slow and leisurely, he explored her mouth.
She tried to relax and enjoy the moment but the shock kept her tense.
He slipped his tongue inside and stroked along hers.
She jerked at the initial silky touch. She’d seen others kiss this way, had even fantasized about it, but the current of desire it built inside her made her want more.
Taking his time, Benic encouraged her tongue to touch his by moaning with her delicate exploration.
Each pass of his mouth chipped away at her tension until she melted against his body and kissed him back.
Then it ended as quickly as it began.
Her eyes fluttered open. A wave of heat crept up her skin, starting at her toes and burning the tips of her ears.
A secret smile curled on Benic’s face. “You can think about that until I return.”
“When will that be?” The question came out before she could stop it.
“As soon as I can. I need some tools from home.” He bent, retrieved his bag and left the den.
Pressed against the den wall, in the shadows of the garden, she stared at the entrance to the tunnels. With trembling fingers, she touched her lips.
Her first kiss.
Chapter Fifteen
The pile of dirty dishes in the Apisi kitchen stood almost as tall as Susan. Dim lighting from the fire tossed shadows over the mound, and it loomed, taunting her. Sorin had left to dig graves and she stood, bowl in hand, beholding the mess, and grimaced. With everyone either sick or helping, she understood why the pile-up.
What pissed her off was her inability to walk away. It was in her nature to desire order in any form.
“Shit.” She slammed the wooden bowl on the table and examined her surroundings. A hand-operated water pump by the wall was convenient. She found a huge bucket and filled it with cold water. Hot would have been better but she needed a freaking clean pot to heat it in first. Scouring the shelves and cupboards, she searched for something that looked like soap. What she wouldn’t do for a bottle of liquid Dawn. A little clay dish on a high shelf by the pot rack held a lump of hard, waxy stuff. It didn’t look like Ivory, but it smelled right.
She’d never been able to walk away from a problem, and the Eiffel Tower of dishes didn’t compare to the sick in this den, but she had to cure this disease somehow. Mentally she began storming the stores of both useful and useless knowledge contained in her head. Scowling, she whittled some of the soap into the bucket and stared at the murky, cold water. This was her future.
How could she help these people? A physicist turned healer turned dish washer? Crap and a truck load of it. She tossed some of the dishes into the bucket to soak, then scrubbed at a pot with a rag as if her crumby situation were entirely its fault. Dumb, dumb, dumb. She’d bragged to Sorin about being smart but her resources were inadequate.
The monotony of washing dish after dish after wooden dish allowed her mind to free associate ideas. Somewhere in the muddle of thoughts must be something she could do to help.