Pairing with the Protector: A Kindred Tales Novel (Brides of the Kindred) Read online

  “Why won’t it go?” she asked, looking out at Rafe who was considering her with his arms crossed over his broad chest.

  “At a guess, I’d say the increased gravity here makes it heavy,” he remarked. “Luckily the mother alien—‘Mama Tusker’ as Dood calls her—didn’t try to remove our gravity regulators—maybe because she didn’t notice them.”

  He nodded down at the thin but tough strap around his right wrist, which had blended itself to match his skin color. Whitney’s had done the same.

  “But I thought these helped us get used to the planet’s higher gravity,” she remarked.

  He nodded. “Yes, but they still don’t make us as strong as those who are used to living in the higher gravity. Here—let me help.”

  He got into the wheel with her and leaning forward, gave it a push. At last the wheel started rolling and with the two of them pushing, it began to go quite fast.

  “This…is…fun,” Whitney panted, grinning at him. “It’s more…cardio…than I’ve had…in a month!”

  “I’m glad you’re enjoying it. Should I go faster?” Rafe wasn’t even breathing hard.

  Whitney shook her head, her long black braids flying.

  “Thanks but…I’m good,” she panted. Actually, she was thinking it would be good to stop soon. The wheel was already moving almost faster than she could keep up with and though it was clear the big Kindred could keep up this pace indefinitely, she most certainly could not.

  “You sound out of breath.” He frowned. “Perhaps we should stop now.”

  “Only if…if you want to.” Whitney tried to sound casual—as much as she could while panting for breath, anyway. She did try to go to the gym on a regular basis but she preferred Yoga or Pilates over jogging.

  She couldn’t help feeling relieved when Rafe first slowed and then stopped the huge wooden exercise wheel. He hopped down and offered her a hand, which she was glad to take. She was still feeling a bit winded from their short but intense jog—though she tried not to show it.

  “Let’s do something a little less stressful,” she suggested.

  Rafe frowned. “Like what?”

  “Like this.” Walking over to the big green ball with slits cut into its sides, Whitney picked it up and tossed it to him. “Here—catch!”

  The ball, being hollow and made of some light-weight plastic material, wasn’t very heavy, even in the increased gravity. Rafe caught it with ease and his frown deepened as he sniffed the strange fragrance coming from it.

  “What is that scent? I find it most unpleasant and yet…” He sniffed more deeply. “And yet, I want to smell more of it. Which doesn’t make any sense.”

  “I think it’s what our friend Dood calls ‘happy tweedle weed.’” Whitney told him, grinning. She held out her hands. “Here—throw it back.”

  Rafe did as she requested and she tossed it back again until they were playing a regular game of catch and filling the air with the strangely sweet stink of the tweedle weed as they did so.

  “So did you ever think you’d be captured and put into a cage and kept as an exotic pet?” Whitney asked as she threw the ball with both hands.

  Rafe shook his head as he caught the ball and threw it back. “It never occurred to me that something like this could happen. It is…very strange.”

  “It is, isn’t it?” Whitney nodded as she caught the tweedle weed ball. “I feel like a Lilipution in Gulliver’s Travels.”

  He shook his head, uncomprehending.

  “A lilly-what in what?”

  “It’s a book about this guy who goes on a sea voyage and winds up in all these strange and distant lands,” Whitney explained. “In one of them, he’s a giant because all the people there are so small—they call themselves Lilliputions.”

  She caught the ball again and took a big sniff. She was beginning to feel rather light-headed but in a good way, so she kept going.

  “Anyway, the Lilliputions capture Gulliver and tie him down with lots of tiny ropes. They make him their prisoner but then he proves he’s a good guy and they let him go.”

  “He does?” Rafe asked. “How does he prove himself to these tiny people? These…Lila…lily…”

  “Lilliputions,” Whitney finished for him. “Well, actually, what happens is they have a fire in their town and the castle is burning down. So he helps to put it out.”

  “By scooping up water and throwing it on the fire? Or by stamping it out?” Rafe guessed.

  “No, he…” Whitney started to giggle. Maybe it was the effects of the tweedle weed, but the next part of the story tickled her funny bone. It had always made her laugh when she was a kid, even though it was extremely juvenile. Or maybe because it was extremely juvenile.

  “He what? What does he do?” Rafe demanded, frowning. “How else could he put out the tiny people’s fire?”

  “He doesn’t have any water handy and he doesn’t want to hurt anyone by stomping on them by accident so he…he…” Whitney started giggling again. “He pees on them—on the castle, I mean—and puts the fire out that way.”

  “So he urinates all over the tiny people’s most important structure?” Rafe demanded. “And this makes them believe he is friendly towards them?”

  “I know it sounds…sounds ridiculous. But I didn’t write it!” Whitney was laughing so hard now she could barely breathe. Cognitively she knew it wasn’t that funny but the tweedle weed had almost the same effect on her that regular weed did—not that she’d smoked any since her undergrad days. But it just seemed to make everything funny and she found that no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t stop laughing.

  Across from her, Rafe’s face was doing something very strange. First the corners of his mouth twitched upwards and then a full-fledged smile emerged. After that, a surprised-sounding chuckle came from his deep chest. Soon, he was laughing right along with her—which only had the effect of making Whitney laugh even more.

  “Oh!” she gasped, holding her sides. “Oh, we have to stop! My stomach hurts!”

  “Mine too!” His laughter was deep, coming from the bottom of his chest, and it sounded a little rusty as though he hadn’t laughed in years. But it was a very pleasant sound just the same and Whitney found herself enjoying it.

  “Oh, I can’t stop!” Still laughing, she sat down in the purple-green grass with a thump, clutching her belly. “Oh my God, that tweedle weed is crazy!’

  “Is that why we’re laughing?” Rafe came over to try and help her up but when she grabbed his arm, he slipped on one of the many slick grass blades and wound up coming down with a thump, flat on his butt beside her. This only made Whitney laugh even harder until she was afraid she might damage something internally. But even that thought seemed funny and made her laugh even harder.

  “Hey, you two better take it easy with the tweedle weed,” a familiar voice called from the next cage. “It’s no joke if you breathe too much of it—I laughed until I passed out once.”

  Looking up, Whitney saw Dood’s face pressed between the bars of his own cage as he peered into theirs.

  “Hey, Dood,” she said and started laughing all over again. The idea of a guy named “Dood” warning them about overdosing on tweedle weed seemed like the funniest thing ever.

  “This is…is serious,” Rafe gasped, between bouts of laughter. He looked at Dood. “How can we…stop?”

  Dood shrugged. “Cold water helps. “Splash some in your face, man. And give your lady a splash too.”

  “I will.” Dragging himself up from the ground, still laughing helplessly, Rafe made his way to the enormous water bottle. Reaching up, he pumped the nozzle which caused a spray of cold water to hit him right in the face.

  For some reason, this made Whitney think of the poor Lilliputions getting peed on by Gulliver and she found herself laughing harder than ever. Oh God, was she ever going to stop? Bright lights were dancing in front of her eyes now and her stomach was tied in knots. Laughing was becoming painful and yet she continued on and on because litera