Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 130317 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 652(@200wpm)___ 521(@250wpm)___ 434(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 130317 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 652(@200wpm)___ 521(@250wpm)___ 434(@300wpm)
Severith shook his head firmly.
“We don’t want to wait until the weekend. I want Mia Joined to me as my wife and my mate immediately.” His voice had a slight growl in it that Sylvan had heard before.
He gave the other warrior a knowing look.
“I think I see the extremely possessive streak I’ve heard all Dae’mon Kindred have,” he murmured. Let me hazard a guess—is your new mate also pregnant, by any chance?”
Mia blushed, her cheeks going bright pink.
“Er, well if I’m not, it’s not for lack of trying on Sev’s part,” she said, half-laughing.
“Mmm-hmm.” Sylvan nodded, his guess confirmed. “Well, would you at least like to hear the news about the PPP before you get joined?”
“There’s news?” Severith leaned forward and Mia said,
“What? What is it?”
“Well, I turned your recording of ‘The Prophet’ over to the World Council,” Sylvan informed them. He saw them exchange a look and Severith murmured to Mia,
“Don’t worry, baby—I made sure there was nothing private on it.” Then he cleared his throat and looked up. “So? What was the result?”
“Well, there isn’t going to be any new PPP Dome in Death Valley,” Sylvan said dryly. “Or anywhere else, for that matter. First, because the World Council now wants nothing to do with the PPP and second because it looks like Chud Brumpkin, the man who called himself ‘The Prophet,’ is dead.”
“I’m not surprised,” Mia said flatly. “I saw him dragged off by a bunch of his own Concubines—they were pretty upset after they found out he killed their husbands just so he could sleep with them.”
“That’s terrible!” Sylvan frowned.
“It’s worse than you think,” Severith remarked. “I’m afraid that there are probably now a surplus of females in the PPP Dome and they’re probably going to need…” He cleared his throat. “Male attention.”
“What? Why?” Sylvan asked, mystified.
“Well, because they give the younger women this hormone laced drink called ‘Nutrient Crème,’” Mia said, answering the question herself after a meaningful look at her new mate.
“It causes a female’s breasts to fill with nectar—or milk if she’s pregnant,” Severith explained. “Which can’t be drawn out without help from a willing male.”
“I see.” Sylvan cleared his throat. “Well—perhaps I ought to send a delegation of Unmated males to the Dome. They might be able to bring order from the chaos—I’ve heard that the social structure has broken down since The Prophet died.”
“That’s probably an excellent idea.” Severith nodded.
“Oh, there’s one girl especially—she was my friend and her name is Zellah," Mia said, leaning forward eagerly. “She’s so sweet and her situation is so sad—The Prophet killed her husband and she just had a baby that was taken away from her, too.” She shook her head. “I hope she at least got the baby back,” she murmured.
“I’ll be certain I tell whoever I send to the Dome about your friend’s situation,” Sylvan promised. “It sounds like some terrible injustices were done there.”
“They were,” Mia told him. “But The Prophet wasn’t working on his own—there was something else…some other entity helping him.” She shivered. “I only heard its voice once, but the Goddess warned me about it. Or him—I think it was a him, because she called him ‘Cruel Father’?”
“What?” Sylvan leaned across his desk, really worried now. “What about the Cruel Father? Please tell me everything that was said and done—I’ve had Severith’s version of events but I have yet to hear yours.”
He listened with grave attention as Mia described everything that had happened during her final confrontation with the man who had called himself “The Prophet.”
It was a relief to confirm that artifact he had been using to cast his charismatic spell over everyone—a crystal called “The Charmer”—was irrevocably broken. At least no one else could take The Prophet’s place and start another cult, Sylvan thought. But it was deeply disturbing to hear that the Cruel Father—sometimes also known as the Dark Father—was still trying to harm the Goddess’s children in this universe.
Sylvan had thought all this was behind them, seeing that The Eye of Tengu was safely tucked away in a Slow Time suck under the Hell’s Gate Station. Wasn’t it? He didn’t think the time suck would have moved on—it had been stuck in the same place for cycles. Maybe he ought to check…
“Commander Sylvan?”
“Hmm?” Sylvan looked up. “Forgive me—what did you say?” he asked Mia, who had been talking.
“I said, that I think the Goddess didn’t just want us at the PPP Dome to stop The Prophet,” Mia repeated. “I think she sent Sev and me there to, well, to get together.”
“Oh?” Sylvan arched an eyebrow. “Well, the Goddess works in mysterious ways—tell me why you think so,” he said.
“We just never would have moved beyond friendship if we hadn’t gone,” Severith said. “Because of…” He cleared his throat. “Some of the practices there.”
“I see.” Sylvan nodded thoughtfully—he thought it best not to ask details.