Brides of the Kindred Read online

  Unable to help herself, she reached out to him…and realized afresh that she was locked in a dream—there was nothing she could do but watch.

  Sylvan finished drying himself and then he put back on his black pants and boots. He slipped on a red shirt he must have borrowed from Baird—it was the color of the Beast Kindred, not the pale blue of the Tranq Kindred—and went out.

  She watched, a silent, invisible passenger, as he took the small silver car she knew must be a transformed Kindred shuttle, down to South Tampa. This was the end of town where the very rich lived. Old money had built a row of fabulous mansions on Bayshore Boulevard—the long, palm tree lined road that stretched for miles along Tampa Bay.

  Sylvan obviously wasn’t looking for a walk on the beach and he showed no interest in the affluence around him. He kept his eyes straight ahead and took several turns until he pulled into a pristine lot filled with new cars.

  Sophie didn’t know a whole lot about motor vehicles—to her it was enough if a car got from A to B and had good cold AC—a must in the hot and humid Tampa summers. But even to her untrained eyes, the cars on this lot looked high end. Not to mention very, very expensive.

  Sylvan unfolded himself from the silver car—the Kindred shuttles really got small and unobtrusive in their Earth-bound state—and walked straight up to the glass and metal dealership that dominated the lot.

  The girl at the front desk, who had been playing in a bored sort of way with her cell phone, perked up immediately at the sight of Sylvan. She jumped up and ran around to talk to him, batting her eyelashes at him and jutting her hip to one side as though trying to show off how tight her short black skirt was. She was thin—a lot thinner than Sophie—and had lush blonde hair that was done in a fashionable retro-wave. Sophie felt a flash of jealousy zip through her like lightning as the girl stroked Sylvan’s arm flirtatiously.

  But why should I be jealous? He’s not really mine, after all. And even if he was, for a short time in the cabin, he won’t be as soon as we get back to the ship. Still, she couldn’t help wanting to slap the blonde girl who was fawning so disgustingly over the big warrior.

  Sylvan, however, seemed to notice the flirty receptionist about as much as a tiger on the prowl notices a fly. He was scanning the expansive showroom floor, obviously looking for something…Or someone. Sophie had an uneasy feeling but she tried to push it away. Maybe he’d decided to stay on Earth for awhile and he wanted a new car? But that didn’t make any sense. The Kindred were all stationed aboard the Mother ship with no exceptions. They only came down to the planet’s surface to claim their brides. So why was he here?

  Suddenly she had a moment of panic. Could it be that Sylvan had found his true bride? Was it some girl working here at this swanky car dealership? Was he going to claim her and take her back to the ship?

  It’s probably some girl who isn’t afraid of him—who isn’t afraid to let him bite her, whispered a spiteful little voice in Sophie’s brain. You can bet your boots that blondie there at reception would open a vein in ten seconds flat if he gave her so much as the time of day. Any girl would—just look at him.

  She watched with new eyes as Sylvan continued his search. No doubt about it—he was leading man material all the way. Despite the tired lines around his pale blue eyes, his features were handsome and strong. Straight nose, square jaw, cheekbones like granite. Not to mention the way he literally overshadowed every other man in the room with his large, muscular frame—even the tall, dark haired salesman who was coming over to shake his hand.

  Sophie frowned. There was something about that salesman. He looked familiar. For a human man he was pretty tall—six foot three or four at least—and he had broad shoulders. Despite his size, though, or maybe because of it, he was running to fat. The beginning of a very impressive beer belly was stretching the fabric of his Egyptian linen shirt and his dark curly hair was thinning on top. In another five years he’d probably be completely bald but his hair looked like it used to be really thick. Like something a girl would dream of running her hands through while he kissed her.

  I used to daydream like that, whispered a voice in her head—the voice of memory. Used to sit in homeroom right behind him and imagine what it would be like to reach out and touch those dark curls just once. And then on that night, that awful night, I had both hands buried in them. But I was yanking and pulling, begging him to get off me, to leave me alone…Oh God!

  The salesman was Burke Simpson. He had to be. Despite the beer gut and thinning hair, Sophie realized she would know him anywhere. Because he was the man she wanted to avoid most in the entire world.

  And now she was seeing him again. Seeing him up close and in person—or so it seemed in her dream—and she couldn’t get away from his hateful grin or those smirking, muddy brown eyes. Eyes she remembered staring down into hers while he ripped her dress and told her to “Just lay still, baby, and it’ll all be over in a minute.”

  Sophie recoiled in horror, feeling like she was reliving the traumatic night all over again. She didn’t want to be this close to Burke Simpson—never wanted to be anywhere remotely near him again.

  Have to get away! The part of her that recognized she was dreaming fought to wake up—to escape from her attacker. But she couldn’t go—she was a captive audience and it seemed that the strange scene playing out before her wasn’t done yet.

  Sylvan took Burke’s hand and nodded politely as the other man spoke. Suddenly it was as though someone had turned up the volume and Sophie could hear everything he was saying.

  “…just got these new models in last week,” he said, nodding at a sleek red sports car with a shiny silver jaguar hood ornament. “Now don’t let this sexy little number fool you—I can see what a big guy you are but she’s got a lotta leg room. Not to mention a trunk you could hide a body in.”

  “I see.” Sylvan’s deep voice was neutral but the pupils of his eyes had begun to go red—as red as the gleaming car Burke was trying to sell him. “I don’t mean to interrupt,” he said before Burke could go further into his pitch. “But can we go someplace private?”

  “Oh, so you want to make a deal?” Burke grinned eagerly.

  “Something like that.” Sylvan’s voice was quiet and cool but there was a dangerous glint in those red eyes. A look that made Sophie’s stomach knot with anxiety. Oh God, she really didn’t want to be seeing this.

  Burke led Sylvan to the back of the large showroom and into a small private room with a large glass window that faced the showroom. There was a nice wooden desk with several cushy chairs on either side of it. Clearly this was where he took clients to close negotiations.

  “All right now.” He closed the door and turned to Sylvan, rubbing his hands together. “Let’s talk. Depending on your credit history I think I can get you—”

  “Weren’t you the captain of the Hillsborough High Mustangs?” Sylvan asked, raising an eyebrow.

  How does he know that? Sophie wondered, feeling ill. I never told him our school mascot. Oh my God, make it stop. Please just make it stop and let me wake up.

  But it didn’t stop and she still couldn’t shake the dream.

  Burke puffed his chest out with pride. “Well, yeah, I was. I don’t remember you, though—did you play for another school? Lemme guess—offensive tackle,

  right? Man, you’ve sure got the size for it.”

  “Actually, I’m not human.” Sylvan bared his teeth in a ferocious smile and Sophie could see that his fangs were fully extended. Long and sharp and deadly, they proved his point more eloquently than any words could have.

  For the first time Burke really seemed to see him. And what he saw obviously made him uneasy. “Oh, uh—a Kindred, right? I guess that would explain your eyes and those…” He gestured vaguely at Sylvan’s fangs. “Well that’s cool, man. We’re all really grateful to you guys. I mean, you saved our asses, right?” He tried to laugh but the sound died in his throat as Sylvan continued to stare at him.

  “Do you know a girl