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“Cajun or Creole?” The question escaped before he thought about it. His personal home was deep in the bayous of Louisiana and the thought of indulging in one of his favorite foods was a pleasant surprise.
“My specialty is Creole cooking.” Abiditan replied with a flat tone of someone under enthrallment.
Well, shit. Here he was all set to dislike the arrogant ass on principle. Then the male had to go and cook something Zamush was passionate about. He crossed his arms. Now he’d have to go easy on the guy. “Is the food ready?”
Abiditan shook his silvery head. “No. I just finished stirring the roux and added it to the chicken stock.”
Damn, the main dish wouldn’t be ready for hours. Glancing around the fully stocked kitchen galley, Zamush surmised that eating something else in the meantime wouldn’t be a problem. He brought his focus back to the Akurn. “Tilt your head and expose your neck for me.”
Abiditan didn’t hesitate.
Keeping a firm grip on the male’s attention, Zamush pierced the throbbing vein in the pale neck. After two swallows, he closed the wound with a quick lick. The richness of pure-Akurn blood hit his system like a lightning bolt.
If Katsuki’s blood was a sweet dessert, Abiditan’s was an indulgent twelve-course meal. Power, strength, and energy infused him. He took a deep breath and savored the sensation, bracing for the man’s memories to follow. Taking a step back, he kept his gaze fixated on the man’s vacant, mismatched eyes.
Soon, Abiditan’s image faded as a bombardment of foreign memories rushed through, like a video in fast motion. When the images ceased, two things became crystal clear. One, Abiditan’s father was one of the ruling nobles of Akurn and a leader in the WOTA. He’d been sent to FarDeep Base to help set up Azadi with Damuzi and Edinni. When the three founders of Azadi had a falling out, Abiditan left the city. Then he met and bonded with Katsuki and Qhasheik. When Jelena found the spaceship, they went about devising ways to infiltrate the palace at Eengurra to assassinate the sub-Prince.
Abiditan worried about Jelena’s increasing obsession with Sychar. From the way she went on and on about the man, he was the epitome of male beauty and didn’t dare have any faults. Another concern was her volatile mood swings. That’s why he opposed her going with them to Akurn.
His description of Jelena’s fluctuating emotions matched what Katsuki said. Zamush frowned. They could’ve been describing him. How odd was it he and Jelena had the same challenges to deal with lately?
He tilted his head and stared at the blank, pale face of Abiditan. He doubted Jelena was as obsessed with Sychar as much as this male and Katsuki thought she was. If she was in love with someone else, she wouldn’t have reacted to Zamush like she did. She seemed to have settled down after she took his blood. How much better would it be for the both of them when he took hers?
The possibilities were staggering. It should be easy enough to convince her he was a far better choice than the elusive fantasy she created. Once they were on their way to Akurn, he’d have plenty of chances to explore her passionate nature. He again focused on the dazed Akurn in front of him. For now, he had to convince this man a couple of things.
“Abiditan. You will have no memory of me being here and taking your blood. I am a trusted companion, and you will insist I have the freedom of the ship. You will encourage everyone to grant me complete access to any information you have about Akurn, sub–Prince Murduk, FarDeep Base, and the city of Azadi. Do you understand?”
The Akurn didn’t twitch. “Yes. I will grant you complete access to any information I have about Akurn, sub–Prince Murduk, FarDeep Base, and the city of Azadi. You are a trusted member of our team and have free rein of the ship.”
“Very good.” Zamush nodded at the large pot on the stove. “Finish making dinner and let me know as soon as it’s ready. You’ll ignore me as I make something to eat before I leave. Remember, I was never here.”
The Akurn resumed stirring his savory creation. “You weren’t here.”
Zamush quickly made himself a couple of sandwiches piled high with various meats and cheeses. He left the heavenly smells of the kitchen to go back to his “cell”. The only thing to do now was relax and wait for Jelena.
Chapter Four
~Jelena~
On the outskirts of Azadi twenty years ago.
A deafening crash made eleven-year-old Jelena jump.
“MoMo?”
No answer.
“MoMo? Are you all right?” Clutching her stuffed kraiwk bird to her chest, she ran to the other room.
There on the floor was her elderly guardian, MoMo, lying facedown on the floor.
Her toy fell from her hold as she rushed to the woman’s still form. “MoMo!”
Jelena dropped to her knees beside the woman. Her heart sank. She hadn’t wanted to believe her MoMo when she claimed death was coming for her any day now.
“No, MoMo! No!” Grabbing the thin shoulders of the woman who was everything to her, she turned the thin frame onto her back. “Please be okay, please be okay…” she whispered in one breath. “Don’t die. Don’t leave me.”
She brushed the loose silver hair from around MoMo’s withered face and caressed her cheek. The skin was still warm. It was hard to check if her guardian was still breathing, with all the stupid tears filling her eyes.
