“Yes?” he said in a bored tone, then appeared to recognize Need. “Oh, hello!” he exclaimed, brightening. “Are you almost here with the, er, shipment?”
“Yes,” Need said shortly. “And it’s very strong stuff, so you’ll need to be damn careful with it.”
“Of course, of course.” The secretary made a dismissive motion with one webbed hand. “We already have plans to cut it with various innocuous substances. That way, good trips will last only minutes instead of hours and bad trips will only last a month. In fact—”
“What about the girl?” Need asked abruptly. “I need to know if your Senator wants her or not. She was a big investment for me,” he made himself add. “I need to know if I’m going to make my money back.”
“Oh, well…” The secretary cleared his throat. “Actually, Senator Pouncenblast does want her, providing she is still, er, intact.”
Need felt a strange mixture of regret and relief. So he wouldn’t be able to sell the girl to the Senator after all. She would have to stay. But what in the Seven Hells would he do with her?
“Actually,” he said. “There was an…incident when I was buying her.” He explained how the slaver had used the device called a “stick” to verify her virginity. “So her maidenhead is gone,” he said flatly. “Which leads me to believe you won’t be wanting her after all.”
“To the contrary,” the secretary said, to his surprise. “That shouldn’t be a problem. For while the Senator insists that all his brides are virgins, he has no taste for actually, er, ‘breaking them in’ so to speak. He says he’s too old to deal with a virgin crying and moaning in pain when he’s trying to use her for his pleasure. So he has the staff take care of the maidenhead before he spends a night with a new bride.”
“Is that so?” Need frowned skeptically. “Then how can you tell if a girl is really a virgin or not?”
“Oh, we use a semen meter,” the secretary said promptly. “It’s a device which, when inserted, can verify if the girl has ever had any male seed inside her at all. As long as this girl of yours comes up with a negative reading, the Senator will be happy to take her off your hands.”
“Shouldn’t be a problem,” Need said shortly. Which was true—though he’d been inside her, he’d never actually given her his seed—thank the Goddess. If he had, they would be tied together permanently right now with no hope of escape.
“Very good.” The secretary nodded. “Bring her along when you bring the shipment, then. We can do both transactions at the same time. When should we expect you?”
Need checked the ship’s heading.
“Tomorrow at noon,” he said.
“Good, good. Then I’ll send you the correct landing coordinates. Stand by for transmission and I’ll see you tomorrow.”
The viewscreen blinked to blackness and a set of coordinates began scrolling across the viewscreen. Need stared at them, unseeing.
Tomorrow he would be rid of the girl, he told himself. And he would never have to see her again.
He had no idea why the idea made his heart ache so.
Forty-Eight
Lan’ara kept her eyes down as she walked down the long marble hallway of Senator Pouncenblast’s mansion. Need was walking to her right and a little ahead of her, keeping his eyes forward and not looking at her. Lan’ara wished the big Kindred would turn his head and let her catch his eyes just for a moment…but she knew it wouldn’t do any good.
Need had been completely silent ever since their last conversation where he had confronted her about going into Drung’s room and reading her file. Though Lan’ara had pleaded with him to listen to her and begged his forgiveness over and over, his icy façade had not broken even once.
He had refused to answer her pleas—indeed, he had refused to talk to her at all. Not one word passed his lips and he hadn’t touched her once. He had even slept last night on the couch, leaving her shivering in the bed alone.
In the morning he had presented her with a new dress—a delicate gold and green silk that fit her perfectly. The gift had brought tears to Lan’ara’s eyes—but not because she was happy. She was well aware that the big Kindred was just trying to make her look presentable so that he could get his money back for her. Obviously Senator Pouncenblast would pay more for a pretty, well-dressed bride than he would for a ragged-looking girl in a shirtdress.
Wordlessly, Need had pointed to the dress and then to her. The implication was clear—put it on. Then he had turned to go, to leave her alone to dress.
At that moment, fear and sorrow had filled Lan’ara’s heart and she had lost control of herself completely.
“Please, Need!” she begged, throwing herself at his feet. She wrapped her arms around his legs and looked up at him, tears welling in her eyes. “Please don’t do this—don’t sell me to Senator Pouncenblast,” she had begged brokenly. “Don’t send me away. I…I love you!”