Page 104 of Melinda's Choice

I give his tail one final stroke then do as he says. He wraps it around my wrists, imprisoning my hands, but not so tightly as to hurt. “Now,” he says, “let me feed you.”

From the first container, he takes out some kind of salad leaf, a very pale pastel green in color. He places it on the plate, then using the tweezer implement, he grabs some cooked meat, smothered in the greenish looking sauce, and drops it on the leaf. He opens the other container and takes out some thinly grated crunchy vegetables and adds them to the mix. His hand returns to the container, coming back with sprigs of fresh herbs which he scatters on top. Then he expertly rolls the leaf and holds it out to me. “Eat,” he orders.

Obediently, I open my mouth and bite into the rolled, stuffed leaf. “Mmm,” I say, when I get the chance. “It’s good. Lots of fresh flavors, some spice and a hint of lemon.”

“It is calledloshi,” he replies. “Have some more.”

I take another delicious bite. While I chew, he quickly prepares two more leaf rolls, one of which he gobbles in one big bite. The other, he brings to my lips. I open my mouth and eat it all up. Once we have finished eating theloshi, he goes inside and comes back with another container, this one with small syrupy cakes topped with a light, creamy type of frosting. He drops a cake into my mouth, and I lick the sticky syrup off his fingers.

“Hmm,” he rumbles. “Good girl.”

We finish our meal with a refreshing drink of nari, then work efficiently together to put everything neatly away. Once done, we come back out to sit on the porch. Kirimor plumps some cushions under my knees as I stretch out my legs and give a satisfied yawn. I lean into him, and he draws me against him, my cheek tucked into the fragrant crook of his neck.I could stay like this forever.

We sit, watching the sun set over the horizon and listening to the strangely hypnotic sound of the stream cascading water into the pool.

“Would you mind very much if I do a little work tonight?” asks Kirimor.

“What type of work?”

“I have been given a list of names of people who have interacted with two of our suspects. I need to scan them to see if any display a suspiciously perfect aura.”

“How do you do that, with just a name?”

“I have the name and general location of the person. When I go into a trance, I let my mind wander to that location and call out that name. When someone who goes by that name responds—subconsciously through their aura—I fix my trance on them until I get a full reading of their aura.”

He takes out his communicator and shows me the list of names. “I will methodically go down this list and see if there is anyone that catches my attention.”

“Will it make you frisky afterwards?”

“Frisky?” he echoes in amusement. “I am always frisky when I am with you, my lovely, but you do not have to worry. As long as I do not absorb someone’s negative energy, I am not at risk of turning into a rabid beast.”

“Well, that’s good to know.”

“Will you mind if I start my scans now?”

“No, my darling, I don’t mind at all. I’m curious to watch you and I’ve also got some notes I need to write up about today’s meetings.”

He looks at me oddly. “What?” I ask.

“You called me darling.” His voice is a soft rumble.

I kiss his cheek. “Yes I did, darling.”

For this brilliant piece of affection I’m rewarded with a hard, sizzling kiss that leaves us both breathless.

“Oh,” I breathe. “I guess I should call you darling more often.”

“I have no objection to that.”

He stands and goes inside the cabin, re-emerging a moment later with the pouch that had held the jewelry. He produces a large boral crystal from the pouch and places it on the edge of the barbecue pit, under which red embers still emit radiant heat. I watch as the crystal darkens to a deep purple in color. Kirimor comes back to sit beside me, legs crossed as he begins to chant a prayer to Taya. Then he goes silent, and I know he’s entered his trance.

I watch him curiously as he sits stock still, staring into space, his mind travelling to a distant place, calling out the name of the first person on his list. After a long while, I see him let out a deep breath and turn to me, no longer in a trance.

“No luck?”

“No, nothing of interest there. Let me go to the next one.”

He checks his communicator, then once again, stares into space and lets the trance take him to the next person on his list. Another bust. He moves on to the next person, and then the next. After a while, I take out my own communicator and begin jotting down notes on my meetings today and starting to draft a report about my trip, to be sent to Earth in my next communication.

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