Carnal Rites Read online

  "You looked at the plant with such disdain," Jaspir said. "You were certain it wouldn't survive the coming winter. Then you turned to me and asked that I report on its state, come spring. It was as though the world shifted off its axis that day, and everything revolved around you. This plant shouldn't have survived, but I wouldn't let it die because I wanted to come and tell you that it thrived. I wanted to see your face when you looked at it in the spring."

  And he had. Jaspir had sought Merlyn out to tell her about the plant. She hadn't believed that it survived, so she went with him to see for herself. She'd been sneaking into the gardens nearly every day afterwards to watch its progress for the past three months.

  Jaspir twined his fingers around her wounded hand. Merlyn noticed that all pain, all twinges, were gone.

  "I knew I loved you on that first day," Jaspir said. "But all these months later I realize something else. That I would serve you all my days, and wait an eternity of winters, just for the privilege of looking upon you. One day, I'm going to buy a piece of land and graft you a field of impossible flowers. You'll see."

  "Ahem."

  The sound of someone clearing their throat made Jaspir and Merlyn spring apart.

  Before them stood a young boy about their age. His skin was pale and his hair the color of red, a paler shade than Alyss'. His green eyes glared at Jaspir who, though standing apart from her, still held Merlyn's hand in his own.

  "Lady Merlyn," the newcomer said. "My name is Liam. I was granted the pleasure of becoming your bondmate."

  2

  Ten years later

  * * *

  "Darwin 152 you're more excited than your little swimmers."

  Merlyn looked into the scope again. The worm-like organisms moved slowly through the fluid. Their arrow-shaped heads dropped downward, their typically twirling tails barely wiggled, propelling them nowhere. The vast majority of Darwin 152's spermatozoa appeared in no hurry to get to the egg. In fact most of them formed what looked to be a blockade. A wall of them floated just beyond Goodall 176's egg. There were a few swimmers in action. But they were actively attacking each other.

  No, wait. Not each other.

  Merlyn pushed back from the microscope and grabbed her log. She flipped through a couple of pages. And yes! There it was.

  Just yesterday Goodall 176 had been caged with Newton 192. Newton's spermatozoa was marked with fluorescent yellow dye while Darwin's was marked with fluorescent blue dye.

  Merlyn went back to the scope. Clear as day, she saw it. Darwin 152's blue sperm were attacking Newton 176's yellow sperm. It was all out warfare.

  "Merlyn?"

  Merlyn jumped, nearly upsetting the petri dish of her specimen. A pair of masculine hands reached out to steady her work table, and the sloshing liquid ceased. Merlyn looked over and met green eyes.

  "By the Goddess, Liam. When did you arrive?"

  Liam straightened, releasing the table. "I've been here for over an hour, my lady."

  Merlyn looked Liam up and down. Sometimes it took her aback how much he'd grown from the scrawny boy who showed up on her doorstep ten years ago. Liam was no longer scrawny. He towered over her. His shoulders were broad, so broad she saw the muscles bulging beneath his linen shirt. His red hair was cut neatly to stay out of his eyes. When he spent many hours in the labs she'd see the same red on his chin. Liam's mind was as sharp as her Mother promised. He was an invaluable assistant.

  "I think I've found something," Liam said, a hint of pride in his eyes.

  "So have I," Merlyn said.

  Liam's smile dimmed slightly, his head bowed. "Ladies first, of course."

  Merlyn vacated her seat and Liam sat down. He peered into the scope.

  "Do you see?" she asked. She bounced on her toes at his back, hand on the back of his seat. The bouncing motion caused her thumb to brush the breadth of his back.

  Liam went rigid. Merlyn removed her hand.

  Liam swallowed before he spoke. "I see the spermatozoa of two different males and an unfertilized egg."

  "Exactly."

  Liam leaned back, one eyebrow raised in question. "Exactly what, my lady?"

  "There are a number of spermatozoa in the vicinity, but the egg remains unfertilized."

  Liam looked again. "You said there are two sperm specimens in here?"

  "Yes."

  "But neither side are going for the egg."

  "Oh, Liam, you see it exactly. They're at war. Its sperm from Darwin 152 and Newton 192. Instead of fertilizing the egg, they're attacking each other, trying to stop one another from getting to the egg. Look, Newton's sperm has formed a blockade against Darwin's."

  "I've never seen this behavior before." Liam leaned back.

  "It was a mistake," Merlyn admitted. "I forgot that I'd placed Newton's sperm in the dish yesterday. I put Darwin's in this morning."

  "What do you think this means?" Liam asked.

  "Previously we thought sperm's sole purpose was to fertilize. But now we must amend that thinking. Apparently, there are some sperm that are programed to fight off intruding sperm. We need to present this to Mother and Grand Mother."

  Merlyn turned and gathered up her notes.

  "This is an amazing find, my lady. But it has nothing to do with gender selection. What I found does—"

  "We don't know that, Liam. It could be important."

  Merlyn dashed out the door and down the hall. She heard her Mother's voice in the Great Room. When she entered, she paused in the doorway. Her Grand Mother sat on her high backed chair sipping tea, while her Mother paced.

  "Can you believe that son of murderers still won't make an appointment to come in and be tested," her Mother said. "Neither him nor that monk."

  "Why would you need the monk?" asked Regyn. "We disproved their religious nonsense years ago. The female orgasm, though real, is not magic. It’s a physiological response to the thrusting stimuli. The mucus it creates simply makes the trip to the egg easier for the spermatozoa. But what woman would want to put up with all that barbaric thrusting?"

  "Two girl fetuses, back to back." Her Mother continued her pacing. "I know it wasn't the other one, the son of the porn actress."

  Regyn gasped. "Angyla, watch your language."

  "Sorry, Mother. The other one, the blond one, he was a sickly child. I'm sure he could not perform. Blond is a recessive gene. So it has to be the other one, whatever his name is."

  "Lord Khial."

  Both women turned to Merlyn. Merlyn came tentatively into the room grasping hold of her notes.

  "Mother, Grand Mother, I think I've found something."

  "You think?" said her Grand Mother. "We have no time for theories, child."

  "These are facts, Grand Mother. I just witnessed the spermatozoa from two different mice at war. All of the swimmers left the egg unfertilized while they battled with each other."

  Both of the older women looked at her expectantly.

  "And? What is your inference?" asked her Mother.

  Merlyn swallowed. "I hadn't made one yet."

  Her Mother's face frowned.

  "I only just witnessed the phenomenon." At the end of her statement, Merlyn's voice squeaked like a mouse's.

  Her Grand Mother went back to her tea.

  "I just wanted to present the findings quickly in case... in case they were useful."

  "You came to us with incomplete work, Merlyn," said her Mother. "Did you expect us to complete it for you? We have our own work to do."

  And with that, the women went back to their conversation. Merlyn was, effectively, dismissed. She trudged back down the hall to the lab. Sitting down at her table, Merlyn pushed away the culture. She looked out the window at the gardens.

  The landscape was different. Most of the flowering plants had been mowed down and replaced with green bushes. There was no longer a burst of color from her window, as when she was a girl.

  Merlyn reached over to the colorful potted plant that sat directly in the sunlight on her desk.
The green leaves weren't looking so healthy. The red starburst now drooped in the center. The plant had survived years of harsh winters. It was springtime now, and it looked as though it were fading. Merlyn reached under a leaf to lift the bud, but she met with one of its thorns.

  "Ouch!"

  She yanked her hand back. There was no blood, but a small twinge of pain remained. Merlyn pressed her lips together and kissed her finger.

  "Are you all right, my lady?"

  Merlyn jumped.

  Liam stood behind her, first aid kit in hand.

  "Liam. I forgot you were here."

  Liam's face was unreadable. He plucked a bandage from the kit and handed it to her.

  "I'm fine. It's only a prick."

  "You should get rid of that plant," Liam eyed the plant distastefully. "That's not the first time it’s hurt you."

  "I'll be more careful," Merlyn said.

  Liam turned back to his desk. Instead of putting the first aid kit away in the cabinet, he left it out on his desk.

  Merlyn gave the plant a fleeting look and then bent back over her microscope.

  3

  Jaspir clenched his fist. A sharp pain shot through his hand. No, not his whole hand. Just one finger. He rubbed the spot on his finger pad with his thumb.

  "Is something wrong, my love?"

  Jaspir looked down. In the sea of sheets lay a very satisfied woman. Her nipples were still erect. A sheen of sweat glistened on her skin. Her hands were thrown over her head and her eyes peered up at him, hazy, unfocused.

  Jaspir leaned down and planted a light kiss on her lips. Her hands immediately snaked around his neck to pull him closer. Jaspir allowed the embrace. He allowed her to plunder his mouth and take what she wanted from him.

  "I've brought you a gift," she said when she released him. She reached down to the floor, the covers falling away from her ass. For a woman in her early fifties, she was still lovely to behold. She returned with a watch in her hands.

  "I've purchased so much of your time," she took his wrist and wrapped the band around it. "I figure I should give you some in return."

  Jaspir raised the watch to the low light in the room. The watch was pure gold, surrounded by jewels. He turned back to her.

  "Thank you." He planted a kiss at the spot where her neck and shoulder met, giving it a light lick. She shuddered. Jaspir pulled back and stared into her eyes. "I will treasure this always."

  Her eyes bored into his, a possessive glint taking light. Jaspir steeled himself for the onslaught to come.

  "Let me take you away from all of this, Jaspir. You know my love for you is real."

  Jaspir rose from the bed. Her hands reached for him, but he was beyond her grasp.

  Like many women past their childbearing years, who now sought pleasure from sex their bondmates could not give them, Lady Myra was a frequent visitor to Stallions.

  Stallions was not the only bordello in the city, but it was the safest, most reputable one. Having trained as a Pleasure Hound in his youth, Jaspir was very popular with the ladies who patronized the bordello. Most of the men had little to no experience with women and couldn't please them the way Jaspir had been taught. This made Jaspir a very valuable commodity at the establishment.

  "I would give you everything you desire," Myra pleaded.

  Jaspir raised the hand with the watch, but it wasn't the gold that caught his attention. It wasn't the reflecting light of the jewels that made him wince. He straightened his fingers. The one that hurt earlier still had a dull throb. He caressed it with his thumb, then brought it to his lips.

  "I can buy out your contract."

  Jaspir wasn't under a contract any longer. He'd paid that off himself two years ago. He was here of his own choice. But it was easier to let his clients believe otherwise.

  Jaspir slipped on his pants. He turned as he pulled and tied the drawstrings at his hips. Lady Myra was momentarily distracted by his bare chest. Jaspir put his hands on his hips. He knew this would flex the muscles of his shoulders and flatten the planes of his abdomen. Myra's eyes flared with desire.

  "You know they'll never let you back in this place if you keep trying to steal away its employees, my lady."

  Jaspir waited for her to meet his eyes before he allowed the sadness to infuse him. When she saw it, her expression changed from desire to compassion.

  Jaspir hung his head. "I would hate to be deprived of your company, Lady Myra. It's one of the only bright spots to my days here."

  "I will never leave you." Myra reached for him.

  Jaspir trudged over to the bed. "Then no more talk of speaking to my employers. They may assign you to another and I would hate that." He laid his head on her bosom, still firm and ample for a woman who had birthed two boys and lived a life of luxury.

  Lady Myra sighed as she ran her hands through his dark curls. Jaspir felt an argument coming on so he ran his fingers up the insides of her thighs.

  "Perhaps," he said, "the solution is to increase your visits from two times a week to three." His fingers found a warm, wet heat at the apex of her thighs. "Maybe four."

  Lady Myra's head fell back, all fight gone from her.

  A loud bell chimed.

  Jaspir's hand stilled. He looked up into her glazed eyes, apology on his face. "I'm sorry, my lady. That's all the time we have today."

  Jaspir rose from the bed and extended a hand to the disoriented woman. He helped her into her clothing. She left his rooms with a promise to book him the next day. Jaspir placed a lingering kiss on her hand and then summarily shut his door.

  He went to his washroom and began to wash her scent off. There was no point in taking a bath, he had another client arriving in twenty minutes. He had only enough time for a bird-bath and a quick bite.

  Jaspir caught his reflection in the mirror. His dark hair was a bit overgrown and needed a cut. His golden brown skin looked a bit sallow from all the time he spent inside these days. His dark eyes looked tired. He caught a gold glint from the corner of his eye.

  The watch.

  Jaspir walked out of the washroom, unclasping the expensive band as he went. The band was heavy in his palm. It would likely fetch a good price at the trader store. He opened a drawer and tossed the watch inside. It clanked as it met with the other jewelry inside. Diamond ear pieces. Platinum rings. Jeweled cufflinks. A necklace made entirely of sterling silver.

  At the bottom of the drawer was a photograph. Jaspir took out the picture and stared at it. The lush land settled peace in his heart. He stared at the small cabin sitting on the land. The cabin was styled with an old-fashioned chimney alongside modern solar panels. He could just make out a small pond of water, rare so far inland. There on the north side of the property was where he would build the garden. It was five acres of land at the outskirts of the city. It was perfect.

  Lady Myra wanted to buy him and have him as her pet. She wasn't the only one. That wasn't the first offer to be owned by another person that he'd received. Jaspir had no interest in servitude.

  No, Jaspir wanted ownership. Something that belonged to him. Something no one could ever take away from him. And it was nearly his. His fingers pinched the photograph as though he could feel the blades of grass on the pads of his fingers. In just a matter of months, he would have enough money to purchase the land.

  He placed the picture back beneath the jewels. When he closed the drawer, he clenched his fist once more. The pad of his finger that hurt earlier was fine now.

  Jaspir shook his hand and reached up to remove his shirt. His next client would be at the door any moment.

  4

  Merlyn woke with a start. Her heart raced, her chest heaved, her lips felt swollen. She'd had the dream again. Though she still felt the after effects of the dream, she couldn't remember the details.

  Merlyn collapsed against the sheets in exasperation. She knew the dream. It was of Jaspir. The time nearly ten years ago in the garden when he'd pulled her into an embrace and placed his lips on hers. Sh
e had dreamed of him nearly every night since. But with each passing year the dream faded and only the physiological effects remained.

  She still saw his face, the excitement there. The dark heat of his eyes. The flare of his nostrils. The moisture at his lips. She saw the dirt under his fingernails, the parts where he gnawed at them. She remembered the shirt he wore, saw the thread coming loose at the collarbone, the hole at the armpit as he'd raised his hands and reached for her. She saw his eyelashes, the sunspot on his neck.

  But when Merlyn reached for the memories of the feel of his lips against hers, she pulled up haze. Her subconscious clearly remembered it, as evidenced by her damp, tangled sheets. But something blocked the part of her mind that could recall sensory detail.

  Merlyn tossed the covers off. She dressed quickly. Unlike her sister, Alyss, who took at least an hour before emerging from her wardrobe, Merlyn had few selections. The majority of her sheaths were grey, brown, or black. She spent most of her days in her lab, getting messy. She didn't care for color or variety, only functionality.

  A grey dress went over her head today. The sleeves covered her arms as a layer of protection against the chemicals she worked with. They caught at her wrists so as not to obstruct when she wrote or mixed the chemicals. The dress fell down in a straight line to her calves for freedom of movement for her legs. She gathered her hair and tamed the strands into a bun at the nape of her neck. She took a washcloth to her face and wiped away any remaining evidence of the dream. She was ready.

  Merlyn left her room and walked the long hallway to the dining area. The voices within told her that she was the last to arrive.

  "It is not my opinion, Mother. It is that of the Sisterhood." Alyss was dressed this morning in an array of colors that should not go together, but would naturally make every eye draw to her.