Accidental Acquisition by Evangeline Anderson
30
“Well, that was a delightful meal. I never knew Nebrian cuisine was so varied and delicious,” Commander Sylvan remarked, smiling across the table.
“Hmmm, yezzz, it wazz delisciouzz.” The Nebrian ambassador, Ha’choo Bless’u, nodded her head, her large, compound eyes reflecting the dining room with its white linen tablecloths and avant-garde centerpieces. Her long, curling proboscis was currently unfurled, the better to sip the last bits of the jumja soup from the tall, thin vase-like vessel it had been served in.
“I’m so glad we were able to reach an amiable decision about the trading rights between our peoples,” Commander Sylvan said. He raised his glass, full of pale blue Woo, a strong liquor from his home planet of Tranq Prime. “To the friendship between the Kindred and the Nebrians. Long may our two peoples continue to grow and adapt together.”
“Indeed, yezzz,” the Nebrian ambassador agreed. She lifted her own glass—a vessel rather like a champagne flute, but four times longer and with a much shorter stem—and thrust her long proboscis with its large, fleshy purple lips at the end, down into the Woo. She sucked greedily at the liquor, her compound eyes gleaming with pleasure.
“Well, the ambassador seems to be enjoying her meal,” Kalis murmured.
“Thanks to you.” Jillian looked up at the big Kindred. They were standing at the kitchen door together, peering through the crack into the dining room, which was empty except for the table where Commander Sylvan and the alien ambassador were sitting.
The dining room had been cleared for a reason. Apparently, the Nebrian ambassador was “cycling” as her people called it—changing from female to male as part of her annual sexual cycle.
The Nebrians preferred not to send ambassadors during the male part of their cycle, due to their aggression and hyper-sexual drives, but Ha’choo Bless’u was their best negotiator. And since she still had a few days before she cycled completely to the male end of her species’ sexual spectrum, she was considered safe.
Still, Commander Sylvan had asked that the dining room be cleared for the delicate negotiation and Jillian noticed that he was here on his own, though he usually brought his lovely wife, Sophia, with him to state dinners. The servers had also been given the night off, and Kalis had been acting as a waiter, as well as a cook.
The big Kindred didn’t seem to mind doing double duty and he was excellent at serving—which made sense, given his background. But it was still his skill in the kitchen that most impressed Jillian.
“You did a great job on that jumja soup,” she murmured to him. “You’ve got a really well-developed palate.”
Kalis grinned down at her.
“Gotta say, little Mistress, it isn’t my palate most women are interested in.”
“Kalis…” Jillian said warningly, but she could feel her cheeks heating and her mouth curving into a reluctant smile. About halfway though cooking the VIP dinner there had been a problem with Suzanne’s babies. She and Hard had been forced to go home and help Kind, her Light Twin husband—who was a good father, but really overwhelmed having to handle all three triplets by himself.
Suzanne hadn’t been able to come back but she had called on a Think-me to talk to Jillian, worried about leaving her alone with just Kalis for help. However, by that time, the big Kindred had already been proving his worth.
He was worth any two line cooks she’d ever worked with, Jillian soon found out. He seemed to memorize the placement of everything as soon as she showed him and he really knew his way around a kitchen. He was quick, efficient, and he didn’t seem to mind taking orders from a woman. Which made sense, Jillian thought, considering his past. But it had often been a problem down on Earth where lots of guys couldn’t stand the thought of having a female boss, especially if she had to reprimand them.
But she hadn’t had to reprimand Kalis once. In fact, he had been invaluable when preparing the VIP dinner and not just because he was the only one strong enough to shave off pieces of thaelite. He had a working knowledge of Nebrian cuisine that Jillian lacked and she was willing to admit that the food wouldn’t have turned out nearly as good without him.
So now she was giving credit where credit was due, but the big Kindred seemed to want to tease her—albeit, very gently. Jillian found that she didn’t mind so much. Working so closely with Kalis for the past few hours, she had lost a great deal of her fear of him. In fact, the day before, when he’d turned into a giant green Grizzly bear, was beginning to seem a bit like a dream. The whole day was hazy—like a nightmare she’d woken up from and barely remembered.
Jillian wasn’t sure if her mind was trying to protect her from traumatic memories, or if the drug she’d been given in the massage oil had something to do with her fuzzy memory. But either way, she was happy to let the awful day she and Kalis had met fade. She wasn’t one to dwell on past trauma, preferring to look ahead to the future, instead.
It was a good thing that Suzanne had convinced her to give the big Kindred another chance, she thought now, smiling up at him. He really was a hard worker. And he had a calming presence about him, which she liked. It seemed almost impossible to think that she had been so frightened of him just a few hours before.
“Thizz liquor is deliciouzz,” the Nebrian ambassador buzzed from the dining room. “Would you have the kindnezz to pour me a bit more, Commander Zylvan?”
“Oh, of course.” Sylvan lifted the bottle and refilled the ambassador’s long, thin glass. “I would caution you that Woo is very strong,” he said, a bit anxiously, Jillian thought, as Ha’choo Bless’u dipped her proboscis into the pale blue liquor and sucked up the entire contents of the glass in one long swallow. “Perhaps you’d like a bit more of the delicious jumja soup to go with it?”
“Yezz, yezz—more zzoup!” Ha’choo Bless’u exclaimed, setting her glass back down on the table with an audible thump.
“I think they want more soup—I’m going to bring them some,” Jillian said.
Kalis frowned.
“Better let me bring it. If the Nebrian is cycling towards the male half of her spectrum, it’s better not to have unmated females around. The Yonnite Mistress who owned me and did business with them, refused to go anywhere near them unless they were firmly in the female half of their cycle.”
“I’m sure it will be all right,” Jillian objected. “But fine, go ahead,” she said reluctantly. Kalis knew much more about Nebrians than she did and though the ambassador seemed perfectly fine to her, it would be foolish to ignore his warning.
“Thank you, Chef,” he said, nodding respectfully. “Let me get some in the serving vessel and I’ll bring it out.”
He went to ladle some more of the dark blue jumja soup into a tall silver pitcher and then brought it out to the dining room.
“Ah, here we go,” Commander Sylvan said, smiling as the big B’varren Kindred came to the table and replenished their soup. He poured the steaming blue liquid carefully into the long, thin vase for the Nebrian Ambassador and into a wide bowl for Sylvan.
“Enjoy,” Jillian heard him murmuring.
But instead of sticking her proboscis into the soup, Ha’choo Bless’u extended it towards Kalis, seeming to sniff the air, as though she was trying to catch his scent.
“Your forgivenezz,” she buzzed politely. “But though your zzent is on thizz food, there is another zzent as well. Izz there another chef in the kitchen? If zzo, I would like to congratulate her on an exzzelent meal.”
All right—that was it, Jillian thought. She’d never refused to come out and meet a VIP customer—it was part of being the Executive Chef at any establishment—and she wasn’t going to start refusing now. The fact that the Nebrian ambassador was being so polite and complimentary must mean that she was safe to be around. Surely it couldn’t hurt to just go out and say hello.
Straightening her Chef’s whites and running a hand over her hair, she stepped out of the kitchen and came over to the solitary table, smiling her best VIP-pleasing smile.
“Hello, I’m Chef Jillian Marks, the Executive chef here at Pat-ar,” she said, smiling at the seated ambassador, who reminded her of a giant butterfly or moth. “I helped prepare your meal tonight—I hope it was to your liking?”
“Yezz, yezz, to my liking indeed,” the ambassador buzzed. She held out one insectile hand, which was tipped with long, sharp claws to Jillian. “May I be the firzzt to congratulate you on zzuch authentic and deliciouzz jumja zzoup. It izz the bezzt I have ever had!”
“Oh, well, thank you,” Jillian began, holding out her hand automatically—you didn’t refuse to shake with a VIP, even if they looked like an extra out of an old Japanese Mothra movie. “But it was actually my new line cook, Kalis, here, who oversaw the soup.” She nodded at the big Kindred who was standing beside her, staring warily at the ambassador.
“Yezz, yezz,” Ha’choo Bless’u buzzed distractedly. She had uncurled her long proboscis again and was snuffling with great interest at Jillian’s hand.
Suddenly Kalis muttered in her ear,
“Pull your hand away!”
“What?” Jillian spoke from the corner of her mouth, trying to keep her eyes on the VIP.
“I said, pull your hand away now, Mistress,” he growled urgently. “She’s about to cycle—look at her eyes!”
Jillian stared at the Nebrian ambassador’s brilliant compound eyes. Hadn’t they been black only moments ago? But now they were red—blood red. It was unmistakable since each eye was roughly the size of a saucer.
“I said she’s cycling!” Kalis repeated. “You need to get out of here and get back to the k—”
But before he could finish his sentence, Ha’Choo Bless’u had risen from her seat and jumped directly over the table. Suddenly the long proboscis with its large, fleshy lips was snuffling all over Jillian’s face instead of her hand.
“I zzmell no male on you, lovely female,” she—or was it he now, Jillian wondered—hissed. “You have no male to enfold and implant you. How very zzad…”
“What—” Jillian started to say but at that moment the Nebrian ambassador unfolded a massive pair of brilliantly colored blue and crimson wings and wrapped them around her.
“Leave my Mistress alone,” she heard Kalis growl and a knot of anxiety formed in her stomach. Not just because of the weird insectile hug she was getting but because she feared the big Kindred would shift forms and turn into the terrifying alien bear-thing.
“I’m okay—I’m just fine,” she said loudly, though honestly, it wasn’t at all pleasant to be caught in the Nebrian’s embrace. Still, it wasn’t the first time she’d been grabbed by a drunk customer—she could handle herself.
Firmly, she put her hands against the ambassador’s narrow chest, which felt hard and cold and prickly against her palms.
“Okay now,” she said to Ha’choo Bless’u. “I’m very flattered that you like my food so much, but I really need you to let me go.”
“You zzhould be enfolded every night, lovely female,” the ambassador insisted, drawing her closer, despite her resistance.
Jillian could feel the short, sharp hairs that seemed to cover the insectile body poking her breasts and hands through her chef’s whites and scratching her thighs through the plain black trousers she was wearing for service. She tried again to push away, but the Nebrian was horribly strong.
“What’s going on? Is she all right?” she heard Commander Sylvan saying worriedly.
“The Nebrian is cycling,” Kalis said shortly. “Must have been something in the liquor that caused her to change into a him sooner than expected. What’s it made of?”
“Just fermented Woo berries,” Sylvan responded. “Should we try to pull Chef Marks away?”
“Impossible without breaking every bone in her body,” Kalis growled. “Once she was enfolded, the ambassador took a death grip on her. What we need is an antidote to the intoxication of the Woo. Some kind of oil usually works best on Nebrians.”
“I have a gallon of olive oil on the second shelf of the pantry,” Jillian called. She could hear the two males talking, but all she could see were the red compound eyes and the huge, brilliant wings which had formed a kind of cocoon around herself and the ambassador. “Hurry!” she added—she felt like she was being poked with a thousand short, sharp needles all at once!
There was the sound of running feet and then Kalis was back. She knew because one huge hand reached down between the wings and grabbed the long, curling proboscis, which was currently exploring her face with disgusting wet kisses.
The big Kindred yanked on the alien’s mouth parts and jammed them into the industrial-sized container of olive oil.
“Drink, damn you,” Jillian heard him growling. “Drink it!”
The long proboscis twitched and then Jillian heard sucking sounds. After a moment, the red compound eyes turned black again and the Nebrian ambassador slowly relaxed her—or his—tight grip on her.
Jillian breathed a sigh of relief as the large, sail-like wings unfurled and Ha’choo Bless’u curled them tightly once more against his/her back. The moment his/her prickly, branch-like arms released Jillian, Kalis grabbed her and pulled her into a tight embrace.
“Thank you, Kalis!” she exclaimed, feeling dazed as she looked up into his silver-green eyes. “But honestly, you can let me go now.”
“Not until the Nebrian sees us and understands you’re spoken for,” he growled fiercely. “Otherwise he might imprint on you for this mating cycle and come back for you,” he added.
“Oh, well in that case…” Jillian pressed a little closer into his arms. It was good to feel his warm, solid, muscular frame against her own after being held in the alien ambassador’s tight, uncomfortable embrace. Kalis seemed to surround her completely with his big body, and God, he smelled so good.
“Are you all right, Chef Marks?” she heard Commander Sylvan asking, and realized she had buried her face in Kalis’s broad chest and was breathing deeply. Was she hyperventilating? No, she decided—she had remained remarkably calm through the whole event—it was just that the scent of the big Kindred made her feel better—made her feel safe.
“I’m just fine,” she said, turning her head to look at Commander Sylvan. “Er, sorry—Kalis says this is necessary,” she added, feeling like she looked extremely unprofessional, hugging her new line cook in front of the Head of the High Council.
“That’s perfectly fine—I just wanted to be sure you were all right,” Commander Sylvan said. “Er, Ambassador Ha’choo Bless’u is going now,” he added. “I think she wanted to say something to you before she leaves.”
“She can talk to my Mistress but she can’t fucking touch her,” Kalis growled possessively. Still, he allowed Jillian to turn around so that she was facing the dining room instead of his broad chest, though he kept his arms firmly wrapped around her from behind.
“I can zzee that you have a male to enfold you after all, lovely zzhef,” the Nebrian ambassador buzzed. “Pleazze forgive me. I believe that the tasty liquor cauzzed my zzycle to zzpeed up momentarily.”
“No problem at all,” Jillian assured her, though to be honest, she was still feeling rather shaky and was glad of Kalis’s muscular arms around her. “Um…I hope you enjoyed your meal with us here at Pat-ar.”
“It wazz lovely. I zzhall zzerctainly return the next time I vizzet the Kindred Mother Zzhip,” the Nebrian ambassador assured her.
“Thank you, please do.” Jillian nodded. She cleared her throat. “Er, I really need to get back to the kitchen.”
“By all means, please go ahead,” Commander Sylvan said, nodding quickly. He had the look of a man who has narrowly avoided disaster, Jillian thought. Like someone driving on the highway who barely missed being sideswiped by a runaway truck.
She felt a little like that herself—still shaky and uncertain—so she didn’t protest when Kalis swung her into his arms and marched back to the kitchen with her.
