Brides of the Kindred(57)
Sylvan settled on the couch beside her. “What did she say in her letter to you?”
She frowned. “Nothing much—just that I shouldn’t worry and she wanted me to send her the sexiest outfits I could find. I got the feeling she was afraid someone might read what she’d written.”
Sylvan shrugged. “It’s possible. The Kindred Security Team does routine checks of all correspondence.”
“They do? But I sent a note with the last box you brought her.” Sophia’s eyes narrowed. “Did you look though it?”
“No, I swear.” Sylvan held up his hands, palms outward in a gesture of peace. “I told you that I would trust you not to send weapons or anything else that might cause harm. But I can’t always promise to be available to ferry correspondence between you and your sister just to maintain the privacy of your letters. I do have a job, you know.”
“You do?” She looked suddenly abashed. “I mean, of course you do. I just thought…I guess I thought all you guys were just, I don’t know, soldiers. Warriors.”
“We are. But we have other jobs as well. Baird is a skilled flight instructor—he can fly anything no matter the make or model. It’s the only way he was able to get away from the Scourge in the first place.”
She looked up. “And what do you do?”
“I’m a medic. What your people would call a doctor, I suppose. I treat the sick and care for the wounded.”
“That’s very noble. You must care about your patients a great deal—like Olivia does—she’s a nurse.”
“She told me as much when Baird brought her up to the ship.” Sylvan nodded. “But actually, I am not emotionally attached to those I treat.”
Sophia had been looking a little more open, a bit more relaxed, but now she sat up straight and frowned at him. “You don’t care about the people you treat? That’s awful.”
Sylvan suppressed a sigh. “I feel very little, as do all Tranq Kindred. It’s one reason we make the best medics. Because we’re not likely to make a decision based on emotion instead of reason.”
“If you’re so cold and unfeeling why did you volunteer to come get these for Liv?” Sophia nodded at the pink bag filled with what Sylvan could only suppose must be more sexually enticing undergarments. “An HKR rep called and told me to bring them just at this time—was that so you could be here to get them?”
“Well, yes.” Sylvan shifted uncomfortably. To be honest, he wasn’t sure why he’d volunteered to go pick up the package Olivia had said she was expecting. Sophia showed every sign of disliking him and, of course, he had no interest in her. Yet…he couldn’t get her fragile human beauty out of his mind. “I was doing another errand that involved coming down to the surface anyway so it wasn’t out of my way to pick up a package for the mate of my kin,” he lied.
“‘Mate of my kin?’ Is that what you call Olivia?”
He nodded, relieved that she hadn’t seen through his obvious falsehood. “It’s analogous to your term ‘sister-in-law.’ It is what we call the brides our brothers have chosen.”
Sophia frowned. “You might as well just call her plain old Liv like I do because she’s never going to be your sister-in-law—not really.”
“You seem so certain and yet you yourself have pointed out that she has asked for some very, ah, revealing garments to be sent to her.”
She looked frustrated. “I know and she gave me no explanation for why she wanted them.”
He arched an eyebrow at her. “The obvious assumption would be that she wants to provoke a sexual response from Baird.”
“Yes, but why? It’s only been two days—I know she hasn’t given in that quickly.” Sophia had a stubborn look on her face but her voice wavered just a little. “She wouldn’t just leave me like that—she’s going to fight him, I know she is.”
Sylvan sighed and leaned forward, looking her in the eye. “Sophia, I’m afraid you’re going to have to face the fact that your sister may not be as strong as you think. There’s no way she can resist Baird indefinitely.”
She crossed her arms over her full breasts, a look of stubborn refusal in her lovely eyes. “You Kindred think you’re so hot. He’s an okay looking guy but no man is irresistible.”
“He’s not but his mating scent is—at least to your sister.” Sylvan didn’t know why he was telling her this—it would only make her angrier, he was sure. But he wanted to soften the blow for her, help her accept the inevitable—that no matter how much she loved her sister, she was destined to lose Olivia to another who loved and needed her more.