“Are you telling me there’s nothing you can do about it, then?” the Kindred demanded, frowning at her. “I assure you that this human female and I are not a couple and we do not want to be ‘all over each other’ as you so charmingly put it.”
“Well, I’m afraid it’s a mechanical issue,” the flight attendant said brightly, very obviously and pointedly ignoring his irritation. “So we can have it looked at when we get to Ma’shorka Centra, but there’s not much I can do about it now. But don’t worry,” she added, smiling appealingly. “It’s not a safety issue—you’ll be perfectly fine with it up, I promise you.”
Then she hurried off to help another passenger, who was waving at her.
Selena didn’t know when she’d felt so offended. The Kindred warrior was acting like she had cooties and would give them to him if she accidentally brushed his arm! What a jerk!
“Don’t worry,” she said, glaring up at him. “I’ll do my best not to touch you again. I wouldn’t want you to think I was ‘throwing myself’ at you!”
He looked suddenly agitated.
“Look, it’s not that! I just have to prepare for a case and I can’t be distracted,” he exclaimed.
“Whatever,” Selena muttered, crossing her arms and looking straight ahead again. He was being a jerk—there were no two ways about it. And it probably had something to do with her being curvy and not exactly ‘in the flower of youth,’ as her Granny would have said.
If I was a skinny little twenty-something I bet he wouldn’t have a problem sharing a seat with me! she thought resentfully. Asshole!
Well, at least it was a short flight. Determined to ignore him for the rest of the time they had to sit together, she opened the paperback book she’d brought with her to read and studied it intently, though to be honest, she wasn’t seeing a word—she was too busy being pissed off to read.
For her, this trip couldn’t be over soon enough.
3
Valen wanted to growl with irritation. How had a simple trip from the Mother Ship to Ma’shorka Centra turned into such an aggravating episode?
It’s your own fault, whispered a little voice in the back of his head. You shouldn’t have said what you did about human women throwing themselves at Kindred warriors!
No, he really shouldn’t have. Maybe he’d only said it because he was irritated that it seemed like most of the other males he’d studied law with already had human brides and he never would. Because no matter how initially attracted human females were to him, they inevitably backed off when they learned what he wanted from them. No, it was more like what he needed from them, Valen admitted to himself.
He’d been visiting with an old friend on the Mother Ship—a Beast Kindred named Broud, who had only just Joined with his own human bride, a lovely little Elite by the name of Shandra. The two of them were settled on the Mother Ship and couldn’t be happier—in fact, they had been annoyingly happy, as far as Valen was concerned.
He’d only wanted a drink with his old friend, but apparently Broud couldn’t leave his new mate for even a quarter of an hour, because he’d brought her with him and the two of them had spent most of their time hanging all over each other in a display of public affection that made Valen sick.
Don’t you mean sick with envy? whispered a little voice in his head. You’re just wishing you could have a bride of your own and you know you never will.
Valen lifted his chin. No, he wouldn’t. But not just because he couldn’t get one—because of the vow he’d taken. He had vowed never to take a bride—human or otherwise—and he didn’t intend to break his promise.
Which was one reason it was so irritating to find that he was going to be seated next to a gorgeous, tempting Elite—a female the Goddess had blessed with extra generous curves.
The minute he had seen her, Valen had wanted her. And unfortunately, not just for her beauty. She smelled amazing. The instant he inhaled her sweet fragrance, the Blood Hunger woke inside him and roared to be fed.
Why couldn’t he have been sat beside another male, Valen wondered irritably. His Blood Hunger was barely in check as it was—he hadn’t been able to make his weekly visit to any of the professional blood donors he and his kind usually employed to slake their thirst. So he was even more starved than usual.
As a Pitch-Blood Kindred, he was one of the few Blood Kindred who actually needed to drink blood. Not very much of it and usually not more than once a solar week, but he couldn’t go without it indefinitely and right now he was certainly running low.