Sazar couldn’t help watching her from the corner of his eye as he piloted the small shuttlecraft upward.
Sarah Michaels was such a tiny little thing—at least compared to himself—but she had immense courage in that soft, curvy little body. She didn’t cry out or gasp as the shuttle left the embrace of Earth’s gravity. In fact, the only sign of possible distress was the way her knuckles whitened as she grasped the restraining straps he’d fastened around her. Her hazel eyes behind their lenses—he couldn’t decide if they were more brown or green—widened as she watched her home planet drop away on the viewscreen but she said nothing and he could see by the firm set of her jaw that she meant to keep silent.
She’s determined to bear anything to have this job—to come with me. Why?
His conversation with the director of the shelter for battered women had shed at least a little light on the situation. At first Benita Sanders refused to speak to him, clearly thinking that Sazar was an abusive mate, trying to find Sarah. But after hanging up and calling the HKR building to reach him, she had apparently believed he was who he said he was and had been willing to talk to him.
Once her guard was down, the shelter director had given Sarah an excellent recommendation. She’d also spoken of how Sarah had come to the shelter, shivering and frightened in the middle of the night—it was clear she wanted to be certain she would be protected.
“She’s a good girl—helpful and kind. Wonderful with the children and a whiz on the computer,” she’d told Sazar. “So just you be good to her, Commander Sazar, you hear me?”
“I will,” Sazar had promised, touched almost against his will at this outsider’s perspective of his new assistant.
“She came to us from a bad situation—I don’t know the details exactly because she didn’t want to talk about it,” Benita Sanders continued. “But whatever it was, she needs to steer clear of her past life as much as possible.”
“She will be accompanying me to the Kindred Mother Ship,” Sazar had said dryly. “I don’t think she can get much further from her past life than to leave the planet.”
“Good, that’s good.” The shelter director sounded approving. “But I’m just saying—I know you Kindred are supposed to be all about honoring women and keeping them safe. You do that for little Sarah—I want your word right now that you will.”
Bemused by her demand, Sazar had sworn his oath.
“I swear upon my life that Sarah will be safe with me. Any who seek to harm her, I will strike down in fury. My body will be her shield, my strength her shelter. May every bit of my own blood be shed before even a drop of hers is spilled.”
“Well…” There had been silence on the other end of the phone for a long moment and for some reason Sazar got the mental image of the woman fanning herself.
“Is that enough to satisfy you?” he asked dryly. “I know of no other stronger oath I may swear.”
“No, no…that’s good. That will do.” Benita Sanders had sighed in his ear. “I just wish human men were like you Kindred. We wouldn’t need shelters if they were.”
“It is true, places of refuge where females can hide from males are not needed in Kindred society,” Sazar had told her. “But then, we worship the Goddess who is the Mother of All Life. She dictates that we have reverence for females.”
A Goddess he still believed in, though he was bitter at the way she had taken his Malinda.
He had wrapped up the call with the shelter director shortly after and had opened the door to find Sarah waiting for him. She’d shown a controlled excitement and something else—could it be relief?—when he’d informed her she was hired. And after signing the papers on her new contract of employment, he’d led her to the waiting shuttle and fastened her into the passenger seat, trying not to notice how good she smelled as he did so.
It was her scent that he found especially distracting now. It seemed to grow stronger in the closed cabin—so strong, in fact, that his fangs were long and sharp and eager to bite. He kept remembering that one taste of her blood he’d had when he healed her small wound—how intoxicatingly sweet it had been…
No, he told himself firmly. No, I won’t bite her—not yet. I need to get things ready for our trip before I indulge myself.
Grimly, he ignored the Blood Hunger which had been tearing at him for days now, ever since the last few, bitter drops he’d taken from his former assistant before she had fainted and he had let her go. There would be time for feeding later—time to taste Sarah’s sweet, indescribably delicious blood again once all the preparations were in place.
If he had been mated to her, he would have bitten Sarah at least once a day—sometimes more. But it was stipulated in her employment contract that he would bite her only once during each standard seven-day week. It would be better to have her blood to nourish him at the very beginning of their mission rather than a day before, when he didn’t really need it.
But you do really need it, whispered the Blood Hunger. You’re half starved—hell, more than half. You haven’t had a true drink since Malinda died and that was a year and a half ago.
Thoughts of his dead mate started a fierce ache inside him which he pushed ruthlessly away. It also made him think of his son, Tsandor. The constant care facility had informed him that the boy needed new clothing. Apparently he was growing tall for his age and had outgrown the last set Sazar had sent over.
He felt a stab of guilt, as he always did when thinking of his son. He should go and visit at least, reassure the boy that he was not forgotten. But somehow he couldn’t face those eyes, so much like Malinda’s, or bear to answer questions about how she had died…
“What happened to Mamam? Where is she? When is Mamam coming home?”
The questions Tsandor had asked over and over when Malinda had first passed over to be with the Goddess were unanswerable, unendurable. He had been so young when it happened. He was still young, still vulnerable…
I’ll send Sarah, Sazar thought, casting a glance at his new assistant. It can be her first assignment—to shop for new clothing for herself and the boy and to bring it to him at the constant care house.
It seemed the perfect solution. The shelter director had said that Sarah was excellent with children, after all. Maybe Tsandor would like her and be comforted. Sazar hoped so—he had no comfort to give right now and he didn’t know when he ever would again. His heart was a stone since his mate had passed—he had no feeling left inside but the deep, bitter ache and he knew he never would again.
Guilt slightly assuaged, he guided the shuttle towards the huge white bulk of the Mother Ship which was orbiting the Earth’s moon. Time to get ready for his diplomatic visit with the dignitaries on Alquon Ultrea. They could be valuable genetic trade partners and allies against the Hive—the insectile race which threatened Earth and the Kindred who protected it—if Sazar did his job correctly.
Can’t allow myself to be bogged down in sentiment, he told himself sternly. I have a mission to complete and I must and will complete it for the good of my people.
He would do his job, no matter how the Blood Hunger tore at him. After all, now that his love was dead, honor and duty were all that remained to him.
* * * * *
“Hey, doll—you look lost.”
The voice belonged to a pretty auburn-haired girl who was as curvy as Sarah was herself, though the stranger was considerably taller.
“I am lost,” Sarah confessed. She’d been standing in the main terminal aboard the Kindred Mother Ship for fifteen minutes, trying to decipher the map which would hopefully lead her to the clothing stores she was supposed to visit, but so far she couldn’t make heads or tails of it.
The Mother Ship was a huge place, compared to the Compound. Kindred warriors and human women rushed back and forth, getting on and off the trams which pulled soundlessly up to the platforms and rushed off again just as fast.
It felt vast and impersonal and frightening after living much of her life in a controlled environment and Sarah was beginning to feel like an ant on a leaf, watching as the waters rose and swirled around her, just trying not to drown. This auburn-haired girl was the first person to stop and talk to her and she felt incredibly grateful for her kindness.
“Well, tell me where you’re supposed to go and I’ll help you get there,” the girl said. “My name is Kat, by the way. I’m mated to Twin Kindred. How about you? What kind of Kindred did you get? Oh, and what’s your name?” She laughed. “Sorry, guess I should have asked that first.”
“I’m Sarah Michaels.” Sarah held out a hand and the other girl shook it warmly with a smile. “But I’m not mated to any of the Kindred—I’m a personal assistant to one and I’m supposed to be doing some errands for him.” She shrugged helplessly. “Only I don’t know where I’m going. I just came up to the Mother Ship about an hour ago and I’m really lost.”
“What? You mean he brought you up here and dumped you and just expects you to find your way around?” Kat sounded indignant. “What a jerk! What is he—a Dark Kindred? They don’t understand emotions so it sounds like something one of them might do.”
“No, he’s a Blood Kindred,” Sarah explained. “And he didn’t just dump me—he actually gave me a way to call him if I get lost.” She rummaged in her battered brown leather handbag and brought out the thin silver circle Sazar had given her before pointing the way to the terminal and going the opposite direction himself. “He said to put this around my head like a crown and think to him if I needed help.”
“Wow—he gave you a think-me?” Kat’s auburn brows rose in apparent surprise. “He must have known you a while to ask you to bespeak him. That’s a pretty intimate form of communication.”
“No, actually—he just hired me today,” Sarah said. “Which is why I don’t want to use this, uh, think-me thing.” She lifted her chin. “I need to prove I’m a competent assistant and calling for help every five minutes doesn’t look very competent, does it?”
“I guess not.” Kat smiled cheerfully. “Which is why it’s good for you that I’m nosey. I saw you standing here with that look on your face and just had to know what was going on with you.”
“I’m glad you’re nosey.” Sarah smiled at her, feeling like she’d known the other woman all her life. “If you could just direct me to some clothing shops. I need to get some new clothes for myself and for a little boy around four and a half years old.”
Kat’s eyes practically glowed with interest.
“You’re in luck, doll—I just happen to be taking a little shopping day myself. And since you and I are both pleasingly plump, you can tag along. Come on.”
She led Sarah to a platform and then onto a whisper-quiet tram with clear glass sides which allowed a view of the different areas of the Mother Ship as they rushed past.
“Wow—it’s really fast,” Sarah remarked. “I have to stop looking—it’s making me dizzy.”
“You’re lucky to ride it,” Kat informed her. “The Kindred only installed it recently, you know. When I first came aboard the Mother Ship, you could either go up and down in these fast, cramped little tubes or you had to ride this two-headed animal called a Take-me.” She made a face. “Believe me—neither option was any fun.” She leaned casually against a pole, her eyes sharp. “So tell me more about this boss of yours…”
Kat was easy to talk to and by the time she’d led Sarah past the huge park-like common area and into the shopping district, Sarah felt like she’d known her forever. She was cautious about explaining her past—even though she was far past the reach of The Brotherhood, she still didn’t like speaking about them and her life in the Compound. But she didn’t mind telling Kat about her new employer and the mission she was going to accompany him on.
“So your new boss is Commander Sazar—the Pitch-Blood Kindred diplomat?” Kat asked as they tried on clothing at a store which catered to the plus sized body type. In fact, most of the stores aboard the Mother Ship seemed to have a good selection of plus sized clothing, unlike the stores down on Earth. Kat had explained that many Kindred warriors found “fluffy” girls appealing which was surprising to Sarah. Larger girls were considered inferior at the Compound, which was one reason she’d escaped Father Caleb’s notice for so long.
“Yes, he is—do you know Commander Sazar?” Sarah stepped out of the dressing room and looked at the outfit she’d picked from the rack. It was difficult to know her size since all her clothing from the age of twelve had been hand-sewn by her mother and the other Sisters in the Compound.
“I know of him. His little boy goes to nursery school at the same place my three little guys do. In fact my son Shad is especially good friends with him—he talks about him all the time.”
“So he’s friends with Tsandor—Commander Sazar’s little boy?” Sarah asked.
“Uh-huh. Oh no, doll—you can’t wear that. It’s way too big for you!” Kat was frowning in distaste at the shapeless sweater and baggy slacks Sarah had pulled on. “Here—let me find you something.” She hunted among the racks for a few minutes and came back with an armful of clothing. “Try these.”
“Well…all right.” Sarah looked doubtfully at the jewel-toned colors in the heap of garments. She hadn’t been allowed to wear anything but gray, navy blue, black, and occasionally tan since her parents had joined The Brotherhood when she was twelve. It seemed strange to be trying on an emerald green sweater which hugged her breasts and tight-fitting jeans which emphasized her hips and behind rather than obscuring them.
“Now that’s more like it!” Kat exclaimed when she came out of the dressing room. “Show off those curves, girlfriend. Don’t try to hide them.”
“I don’t know…” Sarah looked at her reflection uncertainly. “These seem so…form fitting. So immodest.”
“Immodest?” Kat laughed. “But just about every inch of your skin is covered.”
“Yes but…these show so much of my shape.” Sarah couldn’t seem to let go of her habit of camouflage. These clothes would have gotten her punished at the Compound—and they would have drawn unwanted attention.
“Well, you have a nice shape,” Kat countered. “Look, you’re shaped like me—a really full hourglass. You have big boobs and plenty of junk in the trunk but your waist is narrow—you need to show that off.”
“But…what will Commander Sazar say?” Sarah asked, biting her lip. “Are these the kind of clothes I’m supposed to wear on Alquon Ultrea?”
“Probably not,” Kat said cheerfully. “But it’s not like you’re moving there for life—you’re just going on a diplomatic mission for a little while. You need clothes you can wear here on the Mother Ship.”
“But the mission—”
“Will be fine. Look here, doll—I’ll do some research into the Alquon culture and have my clothing pattern replicator print you out some outfits that will work over there. They won’t last nearly as long as clothes you’d buy in a store but they’ll work for the mission, okay?”
“You’d do that for me?” There was a lump in Sarah’s throat. “But…you just met me. You don’t even know me.”
“I know I like you—you seem like a sweet girl.” Kat smiled. “And I have a friend who’s going to be very eager to meet you. She’s extremely interested in Commander Sazar’s little boy because she teaches him art at the day care. You can meet her when we bring the clothes for the little guy.”
Kat was a big help in picking out clothing for a four-going-on- five-year-old and Sarah found she was much more comfortable with those than some of the choices her new friend had talked her into for herself. She still felt uncomfortably exposed, even wearing the sleek black business suit Kat had talked her into.
The pencil skirt clung too tightly to her full hips and the white blouse and blazer that went with it conformed to her curves more closely than she liked. But Kat assured her that she looked fabulous—svelte and sexy. Sarah had to admit her new suit was a big improvement over the interview clothes she’d been able to get at the shelter.
Before she knew it, they were on their way to the daycare center with new clothes for Commander Sazar’s little boy and a few toys which Sarah had picked out as well. She felt sorry for the little boy, living away from his father—it reminded her of how her own father had abandoned her to her fate at the Compound when he had chosen to leave The Brotherhood of Peace.
They went up several levels and Kat led her into a gorgeous play area with a reading corner, jungle gym, ball pit, and so many other toys and games it looked to Sarah like a kid’s idea of paradise.
She couldn’t help contrasting it with the raggedly mown back lawn and the broken tire swing which had been the play area at the Compound. There had been a sand pit too but it was usually crawling with sand fleas which meant multiple itchy bites. The sand box here on the Kindred Mother Ship was filled with clean sand in every brilliant color of the rainbow and the children playing in it were likewise clean, happy, and obviously well cared for.
“Oh, there she is—there’s my friend, Sophie,” Kat said, leading Sarah past the happily playing children to a back area which was obviously dedicated to art. At the moment, it was set up with about a dozen miniature easels fitted out with long sheets of paper and paint pots filled with bright, primary shades. Little artists wearing protective smocks over their clothing were dabbing with brushes, each creating their own version of a Christmas tree.
“Hello.” Sarah nodded shyly at the pretty woman with long brown hair and big green eyes. She was wearing a paint-daubed apron herself and smiling as she went around, supervising her young artists.
“This is Sarah,” Kat explained. “I thought you might like to meet her since she’s working for Commander Sazar—you know—Tsandor’s father?”
“Oh, you are?” Sophie turned bright, inquisitive eyes on her. “I’ve been hoping to meet him in person but he almost never comes here. Did you come to take Tsandor home to be with his father? Are you his new nanny or something?”
“Um, actually I’m just here to drop off clothes for him,” Sarah said apologetically. “I do work for Commander Sazar but as his executive assistant—not a nanny.”
“That’s too bad.” Sophie looked genuinely upset. “I was so hoping you were coming to take him home. That poor little boy is starved for love and affection and his father never comes around.”
“I think that maybe he’s, uh, very tied up with his job,” Sarah said awkwardly, feeling that she had to defend her new employer. “We’re getting ready to go on a mission to Alquon Ultrea in a whole other galaxy in a day or so.”
“Well if he’s going off on a long mission, all the more reason to come see his son himself instead of sending you,” Sophie exclaimed. “How can he be so cold hearted? Did he give you any explanation at all as to why he couldn’t come?” she demanded.
Sarah took a step back. “No, but he only hired me today so he hasn’t told me much of anything,” she admitted. “Actually, I was really surprised to learn he has a son at all. He seems like such a…such a solitary man.”
That was the main impression she got from the big Kindred—a sense of solitary loneliness—like a bubble around him that couldn’t be breached.
“Take it easy on poor Sarah,” Kat told Sophie. “She doesn’t know why Commander Sazar won’t come to see his own kid—she’s just doing her job.”
“Well do you at least know how his wife died?” Sophie asked. “I’ve asked my husband, Sylvan, about it but her death seems to be shrouded in mystery.”
“I’m afraid not.” Sarah shook her head regretfully. “He didn’t volunteer any information—just told me I was to bring some clothes for Tsandor.”
She could still remember the cool, collected way Commander Sazar had given her this first assignment…
“You’re to go to the clothing shops and buy suitable clothes for both yourself and a young male about four and a half cycles old,” he’d said to her as he landed the shuttled they’d flown up on in the docking bay.
“I’m sorry…” Sarah cleared her throat. “A young male?”
Sazar made an impatient gesture with one hand. “What your people would call a ‘little boy’ I believe. He is housed in the constant care facility on the twenty-second level, east wing of the Mother Ship. Buy him four or five outfits and anything else you think necessary.”
“Wait—you want me to shop for a little boy?” Sarah had been surprised. There had been nothing about this in her interview. “What little boy? Whose little boy?”
“His name is Tsandor and he is my son.” Commander Sazar had stared straight ahead, studying the viewscreen as he spoke, his pale eyes never meeting hers.
Sarah had felt a funny twitch in her midsection. A son…he had a son. Which meant he must have had a wife at one time. Or maybe he still had one and they were divorced or separated. Was that why he needed to take blood from Sarah instead of from his own mate?
“Your son?” she asked hesitantly. “Is his mother—”
“His mother is dead.” His deep voice had crackled like lightning in the small, confined shuttle, making her wince. And still he looked straight ahead, refusing to meet her gaze.
“I…I’m sorry,” Sarah had faltered.
“Don’t be. And don’t speak of her again,” Sazar snapped. “You have your first assignment—can you handle it or not?”
Sarah had lifted her chin. “I can handle it.”
“Good. I’ve placed you on my expense account so you should have no problems. I’ll expect to see you in my quarters at nineteen hundred hours so that I can brief you on the details and timeline of our mission. You’re excused Ms. Michaels.” And he had let her out of the shuttle and pointed the way to the tram station with hardly another word…
“So I really don’t know any more than you,” Sarah told Sophie, as she finished recounting the way Commander Sazar had given her the assignment. “I’ve never even shopped for a little boy before so I was lucky to run into Kat, here, who helped me out.” She held up her shopping bag. “I have the clothes right here along with a toy or two I picked out for Tsandor. Can I give them to you?”
Sophie’s pretty green eyes softened a little.
“I’ll take the clothes and make sure they get to the constant care house. But why don’t you give Tsandor the toys yourself?”
“Oh…well, if you think that would be all right,” Sarah faltered.
“Of course it will be all right. Look, he’s right over here, painting a Christmas tree with the others.”
She took the bag from Sarah and gestured to a little boy with curly, golden blond hair who was bent studiously over a surprisingly good painting of a Christmas tree.
Feeling awkward, Sarah tucked the toys she’d bought under one arm and approached the little boy. He was taller than the rest and looked nothing at all like Commander Sazar in coloring, although his finely molded features were very like his father’s.
What gorgeous blond hair—he must take after his mother, Sarah thought. She watched quietly for a moment as he worked with fierce concentration, the tip of his tongue poking out from the corner of his mouth. She couldn’t help noticing all the other children were painting green Christmas trees but Tsandor’s was a defiant teal color with purple and yellow ornaments.
“Hello, Tsandor,” she began in a soft, low voice.
“Hi.” He dabbed a final blob of purple paint on his turquoise Christmas tree and then turned his face up to hers. His beautiful crystal blue eyes widened as he took her in.
Sarah thought he must be afraid because she was a stranger.
“Hi Tsandor,” she said again. “Your father sent me. I’m Sarah and—”
“Sarah! Sarah!” To her surprise, he dropped his paintbrush and rushed into her arms, grabbing her around the waist and pressing his face eagerly to her midsection.
“Oh!” gasped Sarah. He was quite big for his age—no doubt he got his size from his father—and he nearly bowled her over.
“I was waiting for you to come!” He looked up at her with shining eyes. “Shad said it wouldn’t be long. He said the Goddess told him so—she talks to him sometimes. Isn’t that nice?”
“I…I guess…yes, it certainly is,” Sarah said, uncertain what else to say. “But…how do you know me?”
“Shad told me all about you,” he said impatiently. “He said you’d be coming to be with me and my daddy now that my mommy is with the Goddess.”
Sarah looked helplessly at Kat and Sophie who were watching with wide eyes.
“Shad…told you?” she asked.
“Shad is my little boy,” Kat said, nodding at a child with white-blond hair and big dark eyes. He was watching as Tsandor hugged her with a strangely knowing expression on his young face. “He…knows things sometimes.”
“The prophesy,” Sarah heard Sophie whisper to Kat. “Remember what Dani told us the Goddess told her in the Sacred Grove?”
“How could I forget?” Kat murmured back.
Sarah wanted to ask what they were talking about but she still had an armful of eager four-almost-five-year-old and found she couldn’t easily extricate herself. Not that she wanted too—the excited, hopeful expression on Tsandor’s sweet face tugged at her heart. She’d always liked children and there was something about this little boy that seemed to call to her.
“Hey,” she said and gently hugged him back. “I’m really glad to meet you, Tsandor.”
“I’m so glad you’re finally here.” He nuzzled against her, leaving a smear of paint on her new suit jacket but Sarah found she didn’t even care. “I dreamed about you, you know. I’ve been waiting for so long to meet you.”
“Well…I’ve been waiting to meet you too,” Sarah said, smiling at him. “I brought you some new clothes—and some toys. Would you like to see them?”
“Sure!” He eased his grip on her and Sarah was able to crouch down beside him, to get on his level.
“Well, let’s see,” she said, pulling out the first toy. “How do you like this? It’s a model of the Mother Ship—I thought it was really neat when I saw it.”
“Cool!” Tsandor’s eyes shone as he carefully took the tiny scale model from her. It was the size of a Matchbox car—about as long as his hand. “Look, you can see the docking bay and everything,” he exclaimed, pointing at the toy. “Thanks!”
“You’re welcome—thank you for your good manners,” Sarah said, smiling. “I do have one more thing but, well, I’m not sure if you’ll like it or not.”
“What is it?” He slipped the scale model of the Mother Ship carefully into his front pocket. “Can I see?”
“It’s this.” Sarah pulled out a small stuffed elephant and showed it to him. “I had a stuffed animal like this when I was little—I called him Mr. Nosey.”
Tsandor started at the stuffed animal in obvious confusion.
“What is it?”
“It’s an elephant,” Sarah said, rather surprised. “Haven’t you ever seen an elephant? Maybe at the zoo or in a video?”
Tsandor shook his blond curls.
“Uh-uh. Is it an Earth animal? My daddy and I came from Tranq Prime—we didn’t have any ef… efulumps there.”
“Elephants,” Sarah corrected gently. “This one is small but the real ones are huge. Bigger than your daddy.”
His crystal blue eyes widened.
“Wow—really? Is it as big as a vranna?”
It was Sarah’s turn to frown in confusion.
“What’s a vranna?”
“Um…it’s kinda hard to explain.” His face brightened. “I made one out of clay the other day—it should be dry by now. Wanna see?”
“Well, sure.” Bemused, Sarah allowed him to take her hand and lead her into a small structure where the art supplies were stored. There was a shelf which he could reach by standing on tiptoes which contained several “sculptures” made of Play-Doh.
Carefully, Tsandor brought his down—a turquoise and purple collection of lumps which looked a little like an animal. At least, it had a body, a head, and four long appendages.
“See?” he said proudly. “I made it for my daddy. Do you want to bring it to him?”
“I’ll be happy to.” Sarah took the lumpy sculpture from him carefully. “This is great—I’m sure he’ll love it.”
“I wish I could give it to him myself, though.” Tsandor’s big eyes were suddenly wistful. “Are you going to take me away with you now?” he asked hopefully. “So I can live with you and daddy?”
“Well…I’m afraid I’m not here to take you away,” Sarah said as gently as she could. And added, “Not yet, anyway,” because she couldn’t stand to see the broken hope on his little face. “First your daddy and I have to go on a, uh, top secret mission to another planet. Okay?”
He sighed. “Okay. But you’ll be back soon, right? And then we’ll all live together?”
“Um, well…maybe so,” Sarah said cautiously. She still had no idea how long the diplomatic mission to Alquon Ultrea would last and she didn’t want to give the little boy false hope.
False hope? exclaimed a little voice in her head sarcastically. What do you think you’re doing by letting him think he’s going to live with you and Commander Sazar? As if the three of you would be some kind of a family?
The idea was laughable. The big, handsome Kindred commander would never want anything to do with dowdy, plus-sized Sarah. He might be willing to take her as an assistant and drink her blood every so often (once a week, as specified by the contract, she reminded herself,) but that didn’t mean he would ever want any kind of romantic attachment with her.
She tried to push away the shiver she felt at the idea of romance with her new boss.
Your boss, that’s all he is, she reminded herself. And that’s the way it’s going to stay, no matter what strange ideas Tsandor has somehow cooked up in that funny little head of his.
“So tell me more about vrannas,” she said, trying to change the subject.
“Okay.” The tousled blond head nodded. “If you’ll tell me more about efulumps.”
Sarah wound up staying at the day care center for hours—talking and playing with Tsandor, getting to know the little boy who already seemed to know a startling amount about her. He told her about the strange and ferocious beasts on his native world of Tranq Prime and she tried to explain about elephants and other Earth animals.
Finally she found a book about zoo animals in the reading corner and they sat with their heads together, studying it as she pointed out plant eaters and predators, much to his intense interest. He was smart as a whip—she could tell that. He asked surprisingly astute questions and was already reading in English though she knew it wasn’t his native language.
She even stayed for supper, when Sophie invited her to, and got to meet with the caregivers who staffed the constant care facility. Every one of them talked about what a sweet little boy Tsandor was…and how much he missed his father.
“I wish he would come around more,” Lola, the girl who watched over Tsandor most told her. “That little boy just pines for his daddy day and night. In fact, he’s been sad and withdrawn for days—until you showed up.” She smiled. “I’ve never seen him light up for anyone but Commander Sazar the way he lit up for you. Did you know him before, on Tranq Prime?”
“No,” Sarah admitted. “Honestly, I just met him for the first time today.”
But somehow that didn’t feel right. She had the strangest feeling that she’d seen Tsandor before—maybe in a dream? It seemed silly but the nagging notion wouldn’t leave her, though she told herself she was being ridiculous. Still, how could she explain the way that Tsandor had instantly known her?
I dreamed about you, he had said. And he’d also claimed that Kat’s little boy had told him she would be coming. But how could any of that be true? Unless the Kindred Goddess was more than just an abstract idea—more than just a false deity.
Sarah didn’t believe in God or gods or goddesses. At least, not the God she was taught about during her time at the Compound. According to Father Caleb, God insisted that women should serve men and do as they were told. Sarah knew she was little and unimportant but she rejected the idea of a deity who insisted she was less just because of her sex. A deity who commanded her to submit herself to The Prophet and let him “plant his seed” in her.
Ugh—don’t think of it, she ordered herself. Just enjoy being here with Tsandor. You’re away from the Compound and The Brotherhood now—they’ll never be able to find you here. You’re safe—try to enjoy yourself and forget the past.
So enjoy herself she did. After supper, she read Tsandor a few more books and then it was bedtime.
“Would you like to tuck him in?” Lola asked, with a smile when Tsandor came out in his pajamas with his face washed and his teeth brushed. “You two seem to have really hit it off.”
“Yes, yes—please Sarah! Please tuck me in!” Tsandor begged.
Sarah couldn’t keep a smile from tugging at the corners of her mouth.
“With an invitation like that, how can I refuse?”
“Goody!” Tsandor took her by the hand and led her through the long hallway of the constant care house to his own small dormitory, where he slept in a small bed. There were five other little beds in the room as well, with boys already asleep in them.
She watched as Tsandor climbed into bed and then tucked the coverlet up to his chin as he cuddled the toy elephant she’d given him—which he had named “Lump-lump”—short for Efulump.
“Good night…Sarah,” he murmured with a yawn.
“Good night, Tsandor.” She stroked his blond curls away from his forehead and felt a rush of love for the little face looking sleepily back at her. What was it about this little boy that tugged at her heart so?
“Promise you’ll come back soon,” he ordered her, even as his eyes grew heavy. “Promise…” he yawned. “Promise you’ll come back and you and me and daddy will all live together.”
“I promise to come back,” Sarah said softly. Her heart ached for him—how she wished she could give him what he really wanted—the promise of a real family to come home to. But that could never be, she was certain. Commander Sazar should be dating some kind of super model—not a runaway from the Compound who was short and dowdy and not exactly thin.
“You remind me…remind me of my mommy,” Tsandor told her, still yawning. “You don’t look like her but you act like her.”
“Thank you, Tsandor—that’s a beautiful compliment. But…what happened to your mommy?” she asked gently. She didn’t want to push but it would be nice to know.
He shook his head sleepily.
“Don’t know. One day she fell down when she was making me lunch. Then daddy called the healer and she had to go away and then…” His half-closed eyes grew suddenly bright with tears. “And then she never came back any more. For a long time daddy said she was just sick but then, after we got here…” He sniffed. “Then they told me she went to be with the Goddess. I miss her,” he added in a small voice. “But you remind me of her. You smell so nice and you’re soft to hug.” A tear rolled down his flushed cheek and he buried his face in the soft gray plush of the stuffed elephant.
Sarah felt like she might start crying herself. She knew what it felt like to lose a parent, if not by death then by abandonment. Her own father had left her to the tender mercies of The Brotherhood and her mother was lost to reason—lost to anything but the words of The Prophet, Father Caleb whom she considered to be divine and beyond judgment.
“I’m so sorry, Tsandor,” she whispered, leaning down to kiss his hot little cheek. “I know you miss her.”
“I do.” His voice was muffled. “But it’s okay because you’re here now. When I told Shad about my dream of you, he said you were coming to fix daddy and me. To…to…heal us.” One crystal blue eye peeked out from behind Efulump’s furry side. “I don’t know why he said that though. We’re not sick but I’m awful glad you’re here anyway.”
“I’m glad I am too,” Sarah whispered, and really meant it. “Goodnight, sweetheart.”
“G’night.” Tsandor yawned again. Apparently he was all worn out. “I’ll see you soon, right?”
“As soon as I get back,” Sarah promised him. She made a promise to herself too—she would come and visit this lonely little boy as often as she could while she lived here on the Mother Ship. She might not be able to offer him the family he so desperately desired but she could at least give him the love he was lacking.
Why is he lacking it though? Why won’t Commander Sazar comes see him? She had no answer for that question. It was true that Sazar seemed like a cold and withdrawn person—was he unable to love his son? Or was there some other reason—something else that was holding him back?
Well, I just met him—it’s not my place to ask, Sarah told herself. But there was one thing she could do—she still had the Play-Doh sculpture of the vranna wrapped carefully in tissues in her battered handbag. She could at least give that to Commander Sazar and give him Tsandor’s love.
“I’m afraid I have to ask you to leave now,” Lola, who had come in the room to check on the sleeping boys, whispered in her ear. “Lights out at seven o’clock sharp, you know. They need a lot of sleep at this age.”
“Seven o’clock?” Sarah looked at her watch—a scratched Timex which had been her mother’s before they entered The Brotherhood. “Oh no—seven o’clock—nineteen hundred hours!” she gasped.
“Well, yes—if you want to give it in military time.” Lola looked confused. “Is everything okay?”
“I’m afraid not.” Sarah was already rushing out the door. “I was supposed to meet with Commander Sazar—Tsandor’s father—fifteen minutes ago.”