Commander Sazar, like all Kindred warriors, was absolutely huge.
His shoulders, under the wine-red uniform shirt he was wearing, were probably twice as broad as Sarah’s own and she guessed that if he was this tall sitting down, he would probably be nearly seven feet tall standing. He had pitch-black hair—so shiny and dark it reminded Sarah of a crow's glossy feathers—and eyes that were a sharp, pale color which was almost white. She couldn’t decide if they were pale gray or pale blue—it was impossible to tell. The look on his chiseled features was stern without even a trace of humor.
Not a man to mess with, Sarah decided.
“I’m pleased to meet you,” she said, still holding out her hand.
Ignoring her offered hand, the huge Kindred nodded brusquely at the chair across from his desk—a straight backed wooden one which looked singularly uncomfortable.
“Please, have a seat.” His voice was a low rumble which seemed to vibrate Sarah’s bones.
Well, maybe Kindred didn’t shake hands.
Feeling stupid, Sarah withdrew hers and sat on the edge of the wooden chair which was every bit as uncomfortable as it looked. Had she already blown the interview? God, she hoped not.
“Your resume is very…sparse.” Sazar looked at the mostly blank sheet of paper, frowning.
“I know there isn’t much there,” Sarah said quickly. “I’ve, uh, been with the same, er, employer for the past five years.”
“It says here that you’re twenty-three. So you’ve been working for this…organization since the age of eighteen?”
She nodded. Yes, eighteen was the age she’d been promoted to The Brotherhood’s main office. At first she’d been an assistant to Sister Hope, the lovely, blonde secretary to Father Caleb.
Because Sister Hope was slim and pretty, Sarah had been able to blend into the background. And even though she ended up doing more and more of the actual work while Sister Hope “serviced” Father Caleb, Sarah hadn’t minded. She liked scheduling appointments and booking interviews just fine—it was much better than disappearing into the closed executive suite in order to “relieve The Prophet’s needs” as Sister Hope called it.
But then Sister Hope had started getting sick in the mornings and her belly had begun to swell…Her thickening waistline and the dark circles beneath her eyes had made her less appealing to Father Caleb, even though it was presumably his baby inside her that was causing the problems. That was when he began to turn his eyes toward Sarah…
No, she told herself, trying not to shiver. No, I won’t think about that now—I won’t! I have to concentrate on getting this job.
“I know I haven’t got much experience,” she told Commander Sazar, who was still studying the mostly blank page in his big hand with a frown. “But I’m very good at what I do. I’m proficient in SharePoint, Microsoft Publisher, and Excel. I can juggle your appointments with ease and make sure you’re at the right place at the right time. You’ll never miss an important interview or meeting while I’m backing you up and I can give the rest of the staff as much or as little access to you as you want.”
“As it happens, your technical skills aren’t as useful to me as your interpersonal ones,” Sazar drawled in that deep, dark voice of his. “Do you know what I do for the Kindred, Ms. Michaels?”
“I…I assumed you were one of their top executives,” Sarah said hesitantly. She felt foolish. After assuring him she was the perfect candidate for the job, now she had to admit she didn’t even know exactly what it was he did.
“I am more than just an executive—I am a diplomat to high-level societies outside this solar system,” he said, frowning. “I need an assistant who can not only keep track of my paperwork and files, but who is also willing and able to come with me on intergalactic diplomatic missions and pose as my partner if necessary.”
“You mean…I would pretend to be…to be your wife?” Sarah couldn’t keep the incredulity out of her voice.
“Yes.” He nodded, as though it was no big deal.
“I mean but why…why would someone like you marry someone like me?” Sarah couldn’t stop herself from asking. “I mean, look at you. You’re so big and tall and muscular and I…I’m…”
She stopped, feeling more like an idiot than ever. She shouldn’t point out the obvious physical disparity between them. Not if she wanted the job. But still, he looked like a male model with his muscular physique and chiseled jaw while she was just plain, dumpy little Sarah. Which was of course, the image she’d cultivated for herself for years. But she’d been hiding behind her glasses and baggy clothes and plump figure for so long, she didn’t know how to be anything else.
“Are you implying that I wouldn’t pick you as my mate? Or that you wouldn’t choose me for yours?” Sazar’s deep voice sounded more stern than ever.
“Neither,” Sarah said miserably. “I just…I was surprised, that’s all.”
“All right. As I was saying, I need a female—an unattached female—to come with me and pose as a mate as well as keeping my schedule and notes in line,” he said. “And I need one soon. I’m scheduled to depart for Alquon Ultrea in the Triangulum Galaxy in a few days time. As they are a people who are always in pairs, I must have an assistant before I leave.”
“I can do that,” Sarah said, trying not to sound too eager. “I can go with you. I don’t have any attachments here.”
“All right. And may I call your last employer?” He tapped the resume. “I don’t see a phone number listed.”
“Oh, uh…” Sarah swallowed hard. How could she explain that if she gave Commander Sazar the phone number to the Compound it would bring The Brotherhood straight to her? Father Caleb had chosen her to be one of his brides and if he found her…
“I don’t even think I’ve heard of them—The Brotherhood of Peace?” Sazar frowned. “Are they some kind of religious organization?”
“That…that’s how they, um, present themselves to the world,” Sarah said, choosing her words carefully. “Our leader, I mean their leader, Father Caleb, is respected in the business and philanthropic communities. He was able to get The Brotherhood declared a church. They have tax exempt status and everything.”
“I see. And how long have you been with them?” Sazar raised an eyebrow at her.
“I’ve been working in the main office since I was eighteen,” Sarah said. “But I’ve been living in the Compound since I was twelve when my parents joined and took me with them. My father left but my mother stayed and I…I stayed with her. I didn’t have a choice.”
“I see,” he said again and Sarah wanted to shout that he didn’t see—that he could never see or understand what it had been like. Living in dread that she would be called as a Bride of the Prophet, camouflaging herself for years, arguing with her mother who was so brainwashed by The Brotherhood she refused to listen to reason…
“…living now?” Commander Sazar asked and Sarah realized she had missed a question.
“I’m sorry?” she asked, leaning forward.
“I said, where are you living now?”
Sarah swallowed hard.
“In a women’s shelter. I…left the Compound a couple of weeks ago.” Left—that was a laugh. More like slipped out in the dead of night after weeks of planning.
She’d been sneaking pieces of bread and scraps of meat—everything she could spare from her dinner—to Zeus, the fierce Doberman who guarded the front gates of the Compound for ages, trying to make friends with him. He’d still growled a little when she slid by him the night of her escape and Sarah had been so afraid he would start barking and howling—setting off the alarm. But she’d given him a piece of greasy, delectable bacon she’d saved from breakfast and he had stopped growling and remained mostly silent as she slipped away.
The tears of relief had been caught like a lump in her throat—tears she hadn’t dared to shed until she finally found her way to the shelter after two days and nights of walking and hiding in the tangled overgrowth at the side of the road.
Sarah had known she was taking a risk in leaving—she remembered what had happened to Sister Jenny. But she couldn’t wait any longer—she was to become a Bride of the Prophet the very next day. And the thought of Father Caleb’s liver-spotted hands sliding all over her body as he “gave her his seed” to form a “holy child” made her flesh crawl.
Never, she thought. I’ll never go back! If I don’t get this job, I’ll find another. I’ll stay in the shelter as long as I can. Until I find a place I can go.
Unless they found her.
The Controllers were very good at tracking down runaways. They were a special squad of men, handpicked and trained by Father Caleb himself. They always seemed to know where to find the girls who managed to make it out of the Compound and bring them back before messy secrets and dirty stories about The Brotherhood could get out.
Not that anyone would believe me if I tried to tell them, Sarah thought bitterly. Even the shelter people thought she had just run away from an abusive husband. She didn’t dare to tell them the truth.
Father Caleb had everyone fooled with his blinding televangelist smile and down-home, folksy way of speaking. He helped out in local police fundraisers too, making sure to keep Tampa's finest on his side. People from all over the world donated to The Brotherhood of Peace, thinking they were funding good works and charity.
And the Brotherhood did do charity—or appeared to. They were always there, on the front lines working hard after natural disasters or handing out baskets of food to the poor at Christmas. Nobody would believe that such a fine, upstanding organization hid a rotten heart—like a beautiful red apple with a putrid center. No one would believe that the Compound wasn’t just a religious retreat but also a prison for the young girls who couldn’t get out of it…
But I got out, Sarah told herself fiercely. I got out and I’m not going back. I won’t end up like Sister Jenny—I won’t!
“Would you rather I didn’t call your former employer, Ms. Michaels?” Commander Sazar was giving her a penetrating look from those pale eyes.
“I…” Sarah swallowed hard. “That would…probably be better. I realize it doesn’t give you much to go on for my past employment but I can give you the name and number of the woman who runs the shelter where I’m staying. She hasn’t known me long but she can tell you I’m honest and a hard worker. I’ve been helping out in their office while I stay there.”
That was all true. And she was pretty sure the shelter director, Benita Sanders, would give her a good reference—if the huge, intimidating Kindred sitting across the desk from her would only take it.
Sarah held her breath as he narrowed his eyes, apparently considering her offer. She felt like she had during those tense moments at three o’clock in the morning as she stood just inside the gate of the Compound and offered Zeus her last slice of bacon. Would he give her a chance?
At last, Sazar nodded.
“All right, I’ll agree to call the shelter you’re staying at instead of The Brotherhood,” he said. “But…you may not want me to bother when you hear the requirements of your new position.”
Sarah’s heart jumped. He was talking like she already had the job! Your new position—he’d actually said your new position!
Then she remembered what the blonde applicant had been complaining about.
“Is it the biting thing?” she asked flatly, trying to keep her tone cool and businesslike.
His eyebrows shot up.
“The biting thing?”
“Oh, uh…” Yet again, Sarah felt like a fool. “I just thought…I mean, the girl who interviewed before me said…”
“I am a Pitch-Blood Kindred,” Commander Sazar said in a dry, level voice as detached as hers had been. “Which means I need to consume blood. Not a lot of it and not very often but I do need it. And if you take this job and come with me to Alquon Ultrea, you must be willing to provide it to me.”
Sarah squared her shoulders and took a deep breath.
“Will it hurt?” she asked directly.
“Yes.” His tone was clipped, frigid. “I apologize but I cannot make the experience pleasurable for anyone save my mate. And since I have no mate at the moment—”
“Where would you bite me?” Sarah interrupted. “I mean…what I’m trying to ask is: is this some kind of a sex thing?”
He stiffened, his broad shoulders going absolutely rigid as a muscle tensed in his jaw. For a moment Sarah thought she’d gone too far but damn it, she’d had to ask! She hadn’t gone to the trouble of running away from The Brotherhood and Father Caleb just to land herself in another position where she would be abused or molested. Although she had to admit, the idea of being touched by the tall, muscular Commander Sazar was a lot more appealing that picturing the same thing with the aging, oily Father Caleb…
“Taking blood from a mate can be part of the sexual experience for a Pitch-Blood Kindred,” Sazar answered at last. “I tell you this in the interest of honesty and complete discloser. However, taking blood from you would not be in any way sexual. You are not my mate and I am not yours. I would not be seeking to pleasure you—I would only be taking a small amount for sustenance.”
Sarah studied his stern, earnest face, which might have been handsome if he smiled, and decided she believed him.
“All right,” she said at last. “But you never told me where you would bite me.”
“The wrist. Perhaps the crook of your elbow—both areas offer easy access to veins.” He spoke dryly again, the stiff irritation gone from his deep voice.
“Not…not my neck?” In every book or movie she’d ever seen featuring vampires, they always went for the neck.
He raised an eyebrow at her.
“I can call a vein for drinking from almost any area in your body—that is one of my abilities as a Pitch-Blood. But I would not…bite you there. It would be…too intimate and this is not, as you put it, ‘a sex thing.’ It is strictly about sustenance and survival.”
“I see.” Sarah was surprised at the slight feeling of disappointment she felt. The idea of the huge Kindred gathering her into his arms and pressing those cruel, sensual lips to her throat was darkly exciting.
But what was she thinking? She most definitely didn’t want any kind of intimacy with her employer—it was the main reason she’d run away from the Compound in the first place!
“Do you think you could handle my need for blood?” He raised an eyebrow at her. “I have had…several assistants who could not. I wouldn’t care to get all the way to Alquon Ultrea and find that you’re too squeamish to fulfill the requirements of this job.”
“Too squeamish to let you bite me, you mean,” Sarah said bluntly. She’d had enough of euphemisms and double talk to last her a lifetime. She needed this job but she was going into it with her eyes open and all the cards on the table.
Commander Sazar’s pale eyes sharpened but he nodded his head curtly.
“To let me bite you, yes.”
“Well, let’s find out, shall we?” Sarah stood on shaky legs and walked around his desk. Boldly, she stuck out her arm and pulled up the sleeve of her blazer, baring her wrist. “Go on,” she said, “Drink.”
Part of her couldn’t believe she was doing this—how had she gotten so bold? But she had a hunch it was the right thing to do—a gut instinct she couldn’t ignore.
Had any of the other applicants for this position offered to let the big Kindred drink from them? Sarah was betting they had not. What better way to seal the deal and get the job for herself than to give her prospective boss a literal taste of her abilities?
Commander Sazar’s pale eyes widened but he didn’t move from his position behind the desk. He looked at Sarah in complete silence for a moment—such a long moment, indeed, that she began to think she shouldn’t have listened to her instincts after all.
Then he took her hand in his much larger one and turned it over.
Sarah tensed herself for a bite. But instead if sinking the long set of double fangs she could now see lurking just under his sensuous upper lip into her wrist, he did something completely unexpected—he licked her.
Sarah couldn’t help herself—she gasped in surprise. His tongue was warm and wet and a total shock. It slid over the heel of her hand and sent shivering tingles through her entire body, making her catch her breath in surprise.
“What…what are you doing?” she whispered through numb lips.
“You have a small cut on your hand—I noticed it the moment you walked in.” His voice was a soft, purring growl. “I just healed it for you.”
He released her hand with obvious reluctance and Sarah stared at it. Sure enough, the place where she’d cut herself on the sharp metal seat of the bus was completely healed—not even a scar was left to show where the injury had been.
“How…how did you do that?” she asked in a trembling voice.
He shrugged, his broad shoulders rolling beneath the wine-red uniform shirt.
“A talent of my kind. I wanted to reward your courage—to show you that even when I bite you, I can also heal you.”
“Thank you,” Sarah said uncertainly. “But…do you want to bite me now?”
His pale eyes were suddenly half-lidded and Sarah felt like she might burn up just from the way he was looking at her. But all he said was,
“No. Not now.”
“All right.” Suddenly being so close to him was too much—too intense. He had a scent about him—something sharp and dark and spicy that made Sarah feel warm and helpless, like she might do something foolish or submissive or both.
She had a brief image in her head—herself, half naked in his arms with her hair pulled back and her throat exposed. Drink from me—I want you to.
For a moment the image was so sharp she was certain she’d either seen it or lived it somehow before—maybe in a dream…
She took a step back, her heart thudding in her chest.
“Should…” Her voice came out in a squeak and she had to clear her throat and start again. “Should I wait for your call or…”
“If you’ll give me the number of the shelter you’re staying at, I’ll call the supervisor there and verify what you’ve told me is true,” he said. His tone was brisk again and some of the intensity had leaked from his pale eyes. “If the call goes well, you’ll have the job and I’ll expect you to take a shuttle with me immediately to the Mother Ship.”
“Oh…” It was exactly what Sarah had hoped for and yet, she still felt like her heart was in her throat. “All right. Thank you. It’s 813-558…” She gave him the phone number and watched as he wrote it down in tiny, precise handwriting. “Will…will we be going to, uh, Alquon Ultrea right away?” she asked as he finished.
“We’ll have a day at least for you to get oriented. I’ll have errands for you to run. And I’ll put you on my expense account…” His sharp, pale eyes flickered over her rusty black blazer, faded blouse and ill-fitting skirt. “So you can get some suitable clothing.”
Sarah felt her cheeks get hot with shame but what could she say? She knew her interview clothes were a pretty sad affair but the shapeless dark dress she’d always worn at the Compound had been torn and stained in her desperate flight. Still, she didn’t like to accept charity.
She lifted her chin and looked him in the eyes.
“I appreciate your kindness, Commander Sazar, and I’ll accept it—for now. But I want you to know I’ll pay you back for every article of clothing out of my first paycheck.”
For the first time she saw a hint of a smile twitching the corner of his sensuous mouth.
“Proud little thing, aren’t you?”
“I just don’t like taking charity,” Sarah said stiffly. “I can pay my own way if you’ll just give me a chance.”
“If your information checks out, I will.”
“It will,” Sarah said confidently. “I’ll be going with you to the Mother Ship.” Going to the Mother Ship and from there, right out of this solar system—right out of this galaxy.
She was going somewhere The Brotherhood and Father Caleb could never reach her.
For the first time since she’d slipped past the softly growling Zeus and run from the Compound, Sarah permitted herself a sigh of relief.
Then she looked at her future employer’s sharp eyes and even sharper teeth and wondered if she was really doing the right thing. Would she be any safer with this huge Kindred warrior than she’d been at the Compound?
Sarah wasn’t sure but she decided she was going to find out.
What other choice did she have?