Sink (Cold Mark 2) - Page 6/13

I squeaked - which was incredibly embarrassing – but I also scanned the bathroom for the nearest weapon. They had taken my knife while I had been unconscious. I blubbered in complete confusion, “Why haven’t you killed me then?” It would be so easy for them to get rid of their enemy just by slitting my throat.

Pluma Creo sighed. Heavily. “As much as it would be entertaining to do so, Pluma Kreob and Pluma Wazra…well, they are not so bad as far as individuals of the west go. We know them, know their tactics, the way they run business. We have a long-standing relationship with them. It would be far worse to have them dead.”

I blinked. “Why?”

With humor lacing his tone, he asked, “They really told you nothing, did they?”

“Just tell me,” I grumbled.

“Pluma Leo Kreob is the direct ruler. He was born into the line of succession. His father was the Pluma before him.” He snorted softly. “Pluma Kreob’s younger brother, Emalt Kreob, leaves much to be desired. That young terror…” He laughed outright. “Well, Pluma Kreob was smart enough to send his senseless brother far, far away from Belvar.”

Pluma Moir muttered softly, “He should have killed him.”

Pluma Creo grunted. “I’m still surprised he didn’t.”

I slowly started to wash my toes, my fear diminishing with their honest tones. “What did his brother do that was so bad to send him away?”

Pluma Moir asked mildly, “Have you seen Pluma Wazra’s back?”

My eyes widened, and I swallowed heavily, a flash of Malik’s back forming in my mind. All of the tiny scars. Hundreds of them. Repeatedly sliced…tortured. My voice came out in a pained wheeze, “Leo’s brother did that to him?”

Pluma Creo grunted. “Our sources tell us that Pluma Wazra was the younger Kreob’s pet for a time.” He paused. “Pluma Kreob didn’t meet Pluma Wazra until after his brother had his fun with his other half. They were not linked then.” Another grunt. “From what we understand, it was Pluma Wazra who initially stopped Pluma Kreob from killing his younger brother.”

My body warmed as my heart beat heavily. “That sounds like Malik.” The thought of how surprised Leo had been when Malik had volunteered to handle the Mian who had groped me during a game came to mind. “He doesn’t really like unnecessary violence.” Even if he would hand it out if provoked too hard.

“Exactly,” Pluma Creo stated. “That is the exact reason why you are alive. While Mian love to fight, it is imbedded in who we are, the east and the west would not be wise to have war. It could possibly end our race should that happen.” Down to the crux of the matter. Survival. The one thing Humans, Mian, and Kireg had in common. Survival on our new planets was always number one.

Done washing, I stepped out of the bath and wrapped a white towel around my body. “What do you plan to do with me then?” Even after hearing all I had, these Plumas being much more forthright, I still didn’t want to return to my Vaq. I never wanted to be played with again as they had played with my heart. “Do you plan to give me back to my Vaq?” Holding the towel firmly in place, I opened the door and peered down at their feet. These fierce Plumas were still sopping wet. “I would like to know my fate.” To escape it.

“We haven’t decided yet,” Pluma Creo drawled evenly. “We’ve contacted a trusted litigator in regards to the Plumas’ requests to come onto our land. Depending on the litigator’s schedule, we should hear from the Plumas in a day or two.”

Pluma Moir bent so that he could peer into my lowered gaze. His long white hair hung over his shoulder, and his deep black eyes captured mine. Hooked. I couldn’t look away. As my body began to warm under his perusal, and his lush lips tilted up at the corners, he whispered, “We’ll see.”

Handcuffed to the footboard of what I presumed to be their bed, I glared. “There will be no sexual contact in this bed while I am in it.” Yes, they were definitely keeping me close. “Do you understand me?”

Pluma Creo laughed outright as he climbed into bed next to his other half, one of them on either side of my legs, both staring down at me. “Ms. Valorn, no matter what you think, it would be an entirely bad idea to have sexual relations with you. Your Vaq…would not appreciate it.”

I fumed. My Vaq considered me theirs, and Mian were extremely territorial. “I’m not talking about me. I know that. I’m talking about you two.” My nose scrunched. “Together.”

Pluma Moir’s jaw literally dropped. I had never seen that expression on him before. One of complete shock…and disgust. “Killeg is my brother!” He shook, his shoulder shuddering with whatever he was thinking. “Ms. Valorn, that is repulsive.”

My stare was blank, not understanding why that was repulsive.

Pluma Creo turned his laughter into his pillow, holding his face against it. “Oh my.” He snorted hard, beating his pillow with a fist as he continued in his hilarity, his entire frame even shaking with it. “Technically, Phila, we are half-brothers…but that is enough.” He started laughing all over again, snorting and sucking oxygen hard.

Brows beginning to furrow, I asked curiously, “Siblings do not have sexual contact?”

In unison, they both answered adamantly, “No.”

“Oh.” I tilted my chin up. “I didn’t know that. Humans don’t…mate…as your people do.”

Pluma Creo peeked up from his pillow, his crystal blue eyes gleaming. “Your best friend, Jax, would argue that statement, Ms. Valorn.”

I sniffed. I certainly would not think about Jax doing that. “I meant ‘reproduce.’” We had invitro-fertilization for that - no first-siblings that I was aware of. On Joyal, they took great pains to create the best of the best Humans. Not clones of each other. That section of the government was regulated heavily, and followed strict laws.

“Ah, yes.” Pluma Moir’s lips slowly lifted into a knowing smile. “We had heard that.” He peeked at me from under his white lashes. “Though, we do not mate just to reproduce, Ms. Valorn.”

Huffing and settling under the covers, I muttered under my breath - in English, “Barbarians.”

Dark eyes, so very captivating against his white, long hair, held mine steadily. “That we are.”

“Where the hell are we?” I whispered to my best friend the next evening. We were standing inside a pristine white kitchen, while the Plumas and Stiller spoke softly inside the parlor in the next room. “There are no windows here. Are we underground?” The structure we were in was small from what I had been able to see. The Plumas’ bedroom, the parlor, kitchen, bathroom, and Jax and Stiller’s bedroom. That was it. I hadn’t even been able to scope an exit door to this place.