Pimiko and the Uncharted Island, page 3
Once they were tucked away at a table for two under a flower-draped pergola, Pim lobbed one of her favorite conversation starters. “Are you aware that my clan has a reputation for promiscuity?”
“Right to it, then?” Elara toyed with her straw. “I try not to give credence to gossip, even if it titillates. I mean … just because your clan has a rep doesn’t mean you’re that kind of girl.”
Pim hummed.
“Unless that was your way of telling me you’re that kind of girl.” Elara’s smile didn’t waver.
“I’m not typical.” That was blatant understatement, but Pim wasn’t ready to go into further detail.
Elara scooted to the edge of her chair and said, “I might not put much stock in gossip, but I can be nosy. May I be nosy?”
“Questions? Fire away. I’ve probably heard them all before.”
“You get crazy ones?”
“All the time.”
She reached a hand halfway across the table. “Do ladies of the cat clans really keep harems filled with pretty-boy felines?”
“Most do acquire a few consorts.”
“You don’t?”
Pim shook her head. “I prefer the company of females.”
Elara’s gaze turned dreamy. “I’d like a few consorts. Any chance you’d acquire a few, then share them with me?”
It was a joke, but the subtext made it even easier for Pim to relax. Elara liked boys. Pim liked girls. That would make friendship uncomplicated.
“I like flirting,” Pim warned.
Those big brown eyes widened. “Are you going to flirt with me?”
Pim couldn’t help laughing. “You want me to.”
“So much!” Drumming her fingers over her heart, she said, “I’m all aflutter, and it feels good.”
“Nobody around here has the good sense to smuggle you into their harem? I’m shocked.”
“I’m not sure anyone here is sensible.” Elara eased away, slouching into her chair. She plucked the tiny umbrella from her drink and stuck it into her bun. “And I’m under certain restrictions.”
Pim frowned at the sudden mood shift. “Is that an employee policy? Your bosses don’t want you to … comingle?”
Elara shook her head. “You’ll see after your appointment with Dr. Kodoku tomorrow. We all get a list of dos and don’ts. It’s lengthy and ridiculously detailed, but not onerous.”
Wait.
Wait, wait.
“You’re one of his clients?”
Elara tapped her nose. “Samesies! We’re in this together, girlfriend.”
FIVE
Call Me Jacques
Jacques stretched out an arm and twiddled his fingers to get Akira’s attention. His nephew waved back, turned to the three dowagers he’d somehow befriended, and apologized profusely for abandoning their shuffleboard game.
Hurrying over, he knelt beside Jacques’ lounge chair.
“Good boy,” he drawled.
“Yeah, yeah. For you, I’ll be good.”
“Having fun?”
“Sure. I was in last place, though. Never played before, and it’s harder than it looks.”
Jacques smirked. “I’ll make inquiries, see if his lordship wants to add leisure sports to the grounds. Perhaps alongside a croquet lawn and cricket pitch.”
Akira smiled faintly. “Is that why you called me over?”
“Non. It’s time to reapply. Or to retreat.”
“I vote retreat.”
“Right.” Jacques stood and reached for his dressing gown. “Shall we?”
The cruise ship was a vast thing, filled to the brim with Hawaii-bound vacationers. In theory, they should have been able to blend in, lay low, and relax before they jumped ships. But Akira kept making friends, and Jacques saw no harm in letting him ease into the role he’d have to play.
It also gave Jacques time to get into character. Which was turning out to be wretchedly revealing. He’d made promises to Argent involving a temporary shift in his devotion. For the foreseeable future, Jacques belonged entirely to Akira.
Every instinct had rebelled at the seeming betrayal, and yet Jacques surprised himself. He hadn’t realized that he could devote himself to someone other than Argent. Which begged the question … did he want to?
While they waited for the elevator, Jacques pulled his boy-toy against his side.
Akira came easily, glancing up with an amused smile. Which was all wrong for the relationship they were meant to have. Three days of vacation would have to be enough. It was time to get serious.
“I’m starting now,” Jacques warned.
“Okay …?”
Which was frustrating enough to make Jacques pull his hair. They’d be among Amaranthine soon, and within the clans, nuance was everything. Akira might be able to posture like a wolf and interpret innumerable avian head-tilts, but they needed a different kind of body language now. Something entirely human. Something that had to look natural.
So Jacques kissed him. Or tried to.
Because his pretty-in-pastels partner immediately developed a case of lock-jaw, complicated by deer-in-the-headlights syndrome.
The elevator dinged, and Jacques hustled him inside, employing the keycard that would give them a priority ride to the executive suites on the top floor.
“S-sorry, Uncle Jackie,” Akira whispered. “That came out of nowhere, an–”
“Lesson time,” Jacques decreed. “And get used to calling me Jacques. Uncle Jackie will be waiting for you at the end of all this.”
Akira pressed into his side in a common—and entirely clannish—plea for shelter.
“There’s a start. Every time you do this, put your hand here.” Jacques guided him. “Pinky and ring finger under the waistband, please.”
He could tell Akira was trying not to look shocked.
Anyone could tell he was trying not to look shocked.
“We’re not playing house with little crossers. Nobody will believe I’m the rake and you’re my debauched darling simply because we say so.” Jacques held Akira’s hand in place. “You can go all shy, but only because you’re self-conscious about letting others see how much you want me.”
Akira looked ready to protest, but the elevator dinged again.
Jacques took him by the hand and led him gently. Inside their suite, he gave Akira some space. “I reasoned with you. I warned you. I pacted with you. And yet I’ve shocked you?”
“I didn’t mind the flirting.”
“Flirting is harmless.” Jacques made up his mind. “I suppose I’ll have to seduce you.”
“I don’t think ….” Akira gestured vaguely between them. “I’ve never really ….”
“Lord. I know. How long do you think I’ve been watching over you and Suuzu? You’re a couple of innocents. And I told Argent as much, but he did insist, and so must I.” Jacques did pull his hair then, because he hated himself for the harm he could cause. “Look, I think we’ll be fine if you trust me a lot and fall for me a little. I’ll make it easy.”
“But we’re family.”
“Consider yourself temporarily disowned.”
Akira dropped to a seat on the edge of the bed. “You didn’t mention this part when Suuzu was around.”
“Can you blame me?” Jacques sighed. “He knows, though. In fact, I think Suuzu understood what would happen better than you did. Strike that. Better than you do.”
“We talked about the mission. I agreed to do my part.”
“That was talk, and as they say, talk is cheap. This is where things get expensive.” He hesitated to ask. “Please, tell me you kissed him first?”
“Uhh … yeah. Once.”
Jacques sighed and came to kneel in front of the bed. “You can be yourself. But I need a version of yourself that’s intrigued by what I’m offering. And open to exploring a budding attraction.”
“I’ll be terrible at this.”
“Yes.” Jacques touched his knee. “But I can make up the difference.”
Akira was definitely having trouble breathing.
“Lord, don’t cry. We’re not a bad match, as couples go. I’m flippant, and you’re earnest. Those are attractive opposites.”
Akira’s eyes widened, then watered. “So we’ll have balance?”
“In our own way, yes.” Jacques scooted a little closer. “I’ll keep it light. We’ll have some fun. You can even ask me for advice. Very practical for an eventual reunion with your lovelorn phoenix.”
“Don’t call him that,” Akira grumbled. “He’s been patient with me. And he’s being brave right now.”
Jacques was relieved by that spark. Akira was rattled but rallying. “Entirely true. We should choose a codeword for him, so we can mention him casually. Does he have a pack nickname?”
“Of course he does,” Akira mumbled. “Don’t you dare tease.”
“Now, now. I’m the flippant one. Remember?” But Jacques leaned up to kiss Akira’s jaw in wordless apology. “Keep it a secret. Anything will do.”
But Akira’s face crumpled, and he whispered, “Earnest. The packs call him Earnest.”
Jacques covered his eyes. Of all the dumb luck. “Do they mean in general, or do they mean about you?”
“Both. Probably.”
“Wolves. They do tend to define people by their attachments.” He eased his arms around Akira’s waist. “You do see the compliment?”
“Now.”
Jacques chuckled. “It is my good fortune to be bound as I am, to two earnest boys. Remember that I’m not trying to come between you. I’m simply vying for a place in your hearts.”
“Stupid,” Akira grumbled. “You know we love you, Uncle Jackie.”
“This I know, and know full well,” he agreed softly. “But Uncle Jackie is not here. You must deal with Jacques and his considerable devotion.”
Akira just sat there, bewildered.
“Intrigued,” Jacques coached. “Open. Curious.”
“Yes, Jacques. I’m ….” His voice caught, but he said, “I am willing.”
SIX
The Doctor Will See You Now
The rap on Pim’s door came before sunrise. Unusual in human circles, but hardly surprising among the Amaranthine, who generally passed their nights in other activities besides sleep. At the door was a female of some indeterminate clan with bobbed purple hair tucked behind her ears.
“Pim Moonprowl.” She glanced between her clipboard and Pim, perhaps comparing her to a photograph. “If it is convenient, Dr. Kodoku will see you now.”
Without another word, she led Pim along hushed halls. A keycard was needed for both of the security doors they passed through along the way, as well as an unmarked office door. The interior was surprisingly lavish, rich reds predominant. Sheer curtains stirred at tall windows that stood open, welcoming in all the heat and humidity of a tropical night.
A soft tinkling brought her attention to a series of tiny windchimes hung at intervals before the windows. Their movement puzzled her until she realized that it was being caused by an oscillating fan, which hummed discreetly behind a potted palm. Wherever the thing wasn’t pointed, the air felt unnaturally close and still.
“Here she is!” called the doctor she only knew from their correspondence. “Mistress Moonprowl, we are delighted that you have placed yourself in our hands.”
He was half a head taller than Pim, which meant he couldn’t have been six feet tall. Glasses perched on his thin nose, and they shimmered faintly with sigilcraft. His ensemble was tastefully eclectic and impossible to pinpoint, not traditional to any clan she knew, and not displaying any identifying crest.
Her attention snagged briefly on his shoes, the soles of which were suspiciously thick. He probably only had an inch or two on her and was self-conscious about his middling height. Her opinion dropped a notch. Height wasn’t important. Force of personality was key.
The room was dimly lit by a series of illuminated crystals in glass lanterns. Pink and amber, they bathed everything in warmth, lending flattering color to pale skin, but making it difficult to discern other colors. His long hair was simply dark, and his scent was obscured by the heady perfume of flowers, which must have been blooming right outside.
She offered her palms, expecting an exchange of greetings.
He clasped her hands and drew her to one of a pair of chairs facing his desk. Sitting beside her, so close their knees touched, he said, “You did well to trust us.”
Pim was elated to hear it. “May I know your name, Kindred?”
“Oh, we shall not stand upon formality here. Simply call me Dr. Kodoku.”
She would. Of course she would. But … on some level, she knew he was being rude. Many of the oldest and most traditional of Amaranthine accused her generation of being too hasty, forever cutting corners instead of giving proper time to courtesies.
Dr. Kodoku cleared his throat.
Whoops. She’d been tuning him out, and he looked faintly annoyed. Well, he’d been rude first. Pim sweetly asked, “Yes?”
“Shall we try that again?”
She merely arched her brows invitingly.
He smiled and said, “You will answer my questions.”
Pim almost rolled her eyes. Of course she would. Wasn’t she forever answering questions? It was all part of being famous. All part of being an ambassador for peace.
“Tell me your name.”
“Pimiko Moonprowl.” She pursed her lips. Normally, she didn’t hand out her full name. These days, she was always Pim.
“Do you have consorts?”
“No.” Not that it was any of his business. But he was going to be her doctor. These were probably standard questions.
Dr. Kodoku still had her hand cradled between his, and his thumb was caressing its back. “Have you a partner?”
“I am not bonded.”
He hummed. “What I meant to ask is … are you sexually active?”
“Not with males.” She pulled her hand free and fixed him with a glare that dared him to comment.
From across the room, the other female—a nurse, perhaps—acidly remarked, “Perhaps that is the source of her Waning.”
“Pay no mind to Futari,” the doctor murmured, his gaze never leaving Pim’s face. “Have you never coupled with males.”
“I have.”
“And you did not conceive?”
She bared her teeth. “I did.”
Dr. Kodoku rose and crossed to his desk, pulled a file around and flipped through its contents. “Here it is. Oh, I see! Two miscarriages. What did the healers have to say?”
Pim swallowed hard. She was used to sympathy or pity. He only seemed intrigued, as if her situation were some new twist in his research. Lip curling, she grudgingly answered, “Nothing helpful.”
His nurse quietly said, “She is resisting.”
He raised a hand, as if to block her out. “Never mind that. How long since you last attempted to conceive?”
“Not since the second miscarriage.”
“Really? How odd. I thought felines were more … insatiable.”
She wanted to slap him.
The doctor eyed her warily and spoke more firmly. “Best never mind that, as well. Come now, Mistress Moonprowl. You know I am only asking because I must.”
Yes, of course. Doctors did need intimate details and honesty. She needed to trust him. He was studying the Waning, after all. Looking for solutions. Fulfilling hopes.
“Would you be willing to take bedmates who are not feline?”
Elara’s face came immediately to mind. “Yes.”
“Adventurous!” he murmured. “I wonder which could be persuaded. Moonlight would suit you best, but males are few and far between. The stars are withdrawn, and the rainbow … impossible thing.”
“Do you mean Impressions?” she blurted, feeling silly now that the notion was out in the open. Fairy tales were lovely. Some were even sexy. But they weren’t likely to give her the baby she longed to hold.
Dr. Kodoku surprised her. “If it comes to that, yes. There are arrangements I can make.”
He sounded serious.
Pim’s heart beat faster.
“What about endorsements?” he asked. “Should we manage to leave you with child, would you be willing to—discreetly, you understand—share your experience with others seeking ways to overcome the Waning?”
“If you succeed, I would consider it, but I make no guarantees. Just as you have made none.”
“Fair, fair,” he murmured. “Tell, me, Mistress Moonprowl. Tell me the secret that most shames you.”
“I could not protect my children.” She felt ill enough to vomit.
He returned to the chair by her side. “That was not your fault.”
She could only believe him. So many others had said the same. But it didn’t help.
“Now, tell me something less terrible. Something that might give someone like me sway over your future choices.”
What did this have to do with her medical history or current health? But Pim felt she should answer. “A secret?” she asked, putting off the inevitable.
“Yes.” His hand caressed her cheek, and he brought his face close. “What have you never dared to tell anyone? What have you been hiding from the world?”
“I want to be a wolf.”
“Is that right?” He looked at her over the lenses of his glasses. His eyes were so red.
She blushed, because it wasn’t entirely right. And she suddenly really wanted to speak the truth. “I identify as a wolf. I’m a wolf.”
“Useless,” remarked the nurse.
“Futari, the curtains,” he ordered.
With a sulky look, she began pulling heavy drapes across the windows.
