Michaela (5 page)

Michaela took out black trousers and a dark blue shirt meant for a man. It took her no time to locate her hated elastic breast binding. She’d meant to toss that particular torture device out but hadn’t quite worked up the courage to do so. She worried that someday she would have to pose as Michael again in order to stay alive.

She dressed, hissing at the uncomfortable binding that made her feel breathless as it squeezed her chest. She left the shirt untucked to hide the width of her hips. Then Michaela tied her shoulder-length hair back severely, giving the illusion of shortness and enhancing her identity as Michael.

Last went on a nice pair of men’s ankle boots, still shining from their last good buffing. Being male meant no makeup, but Michaela couldn’t resist putting on moisturizer. She looked wistfully at her cosmetics. Damn, she loved being a girl so much more.

Michaela went before the room’s full-length mirror to assess the effect of her work. No, she did not look female now. She didn’t look like a grown man either; instead she resembled a teenage boy.

“Which I sort of am,” she reminded herself. “Well, we’ll see what Clan Korkla thinks of this.”

For some time after dressing, Michaela wandered the confines of her small quarters, unable to settle down. Reading, entertainment vids, the meditation Jessica had taught her – she was too nervous for those distractions. She couldn’t even think about the choreography for a new dance she’d been envisioning these last few days. Time after time, Michaela approached her closet, on the brink of changing into the dress and being female again.

She fought off the temptation with hardheaded logic. After meeting the Kalquorians last night, Michaela had the idea that the more time she spent with Korkla, Govi, and Raxstad, the more she would like them. Hope was a traitor, and she dared not to give in to it. They would ultimately reject her for being male as well as a woman. It was inevitable. Better to face it now than later. If given too long to blossom and grow, dashed dreams would not simply hurt. They had the potential to devastate her.

Michaela managed to dawdle until she thought Clan Korkla would arrive at any moment. As the morning lengthened, approaching the time the three men were due to arrive, she wondered if they actually would show up. Maybe they already debated the issue. Perhaps they had decided they’d made a mistake by letting her think they would consider her as their Matara.

Michaela paced the room, worried the clan wouldn’t come to see her and just as scared that they would. After a few minutes, her nerve broke. She couldn’t stand to know one way or the other. She went to her door. When it obligingly opened for her, she looked up and down the hall. No one was around, so she ran away.

Michaela didn’t go far, scurrying to Jessica’s quarters just a few steps down the hall. She hoped her friend hadn’t spent the night away with one of her potential clans.

* * * *

Korkla frowned and turned from the closed door to Michaela’s quarters. He eyed his concerned clanmates. “There’s no answer. Do you think she’s hiding in there, trying to avoid us?”

Raxstad examined the door and its locking mechanism. “I bet I could force it without damage.”

Govi put a hand on his Nobek’s muscled shoulder, his tone warning. “That would be a bad move. I told you she might avoid us.”

Korkla shoved down the frustration that tried to take good sense away. He’d barely slept all night. Time and again, his mind had turned to dark-eyed, beautiful Michaela, remembering every expression on her cherubic face.

He told Govi, “I thought we left things on such a good note with her. She seemed happy when we said our goodnights.”

His Imdiko gave him a sad smile, a particularly poignant expression for such a beautiful face. “This is a damaged, frightened Earther, my Dramok. Michaela seems to feel unworthy of positive attention every bit as much as she craves it.”

Raxstad planted his hands on his hips and scowled at nothing in particular. “This is fucked up. How are we supposed to fix that if she won’t even see us?”

Govi sighed. “Welcome to my world.”

Korkla grimaced. “I have new respect for your work with the other Earther Mataras, my Imdiko. Now what do we do?”

“Trouble, gentlemen?”

The deep and familiar voice of Crown Prince Bevau had all three men turning and bowing in an instant. He moved down the hall, as silent as any member of the Nobek breed.

If there was any man more stunning in looks than Korkla’s Imdiko clanmate Govi, it was Bevau. The prince had been graced with perfect bone structure and flawless beauty, from his chiseled face to his gracefully muscled body. As content as Korkla was with his own Nobek, he couldn’t help but appreciate the singular magnificence of the prince. He was gorgeous.

Bevau’s hands were improbably full with flowers, apparently just picked from Israla’s gardens. Seeing the handsome warrior carrying posies made Korkla chuckle along with Raxstad, while Govi blinked with a bemused look on his face. He took out his handheld and snapped a picture, which Bevau obligingly grinned for.

Fortunately, Bevau had a better sense of humor than most Nobeks. Korkla indulged in a little teasing of the younger man. “Since when did you become a gardener, my prince?” he asked.

Bevau smirked at him. “You should research your Earther customs better, Korkla. The females love receiving flowers. It’s traditional to give them in honor of important observances and to apologize with.”

Korkla’s smile faded. “Apologize?”

Bevau’s grin also dropped off. His look darkened, showing some of the fierceness of his designated breed. “Clajak was himself with Matara Jessica McInness last night. He also didn’t bother looking into Earther customs and offended her. He then went on to upset Egilka, but my Imdiko is not one to be mollified with pretty plants.”

Govi winced, but Korkla kept his demeanor unresponsive. Dramok Crown Prince Clajak, his employer, was a good man at heart. Unfortunately, he also possessed a quick temper and an even quicker tongue that spoke before the young man thought. Refusal to accept responsibility for much of his actions was a great failing of Clajak’s; one Korkla spent a lot of time dealing with the fallout of.

Korkla bit back a sigh. He should have figured on Clajak being clumsy with the Earther Jessica McInness. He asked Bevau, “Should I speak to him, my prince?”

Bevau gave him a knowing smile. “Not this time, Korkla. Let him stew and reflect on his actions for a bit. He’ll end up kicking his own ass better than any of us could.”

Korkla chuckled. “He might have a temper, but he also has plenty of conscience. He’ll one day learn to think first and act later.”

Bevau laughed. “That’s the dream that keeps me hopeful. How was your meeting with the little intersex dancer?”

Korkla’s humor dissipated as he was reminded of Michaela. “We thought it went well, but either she’s not answering her door or she’s made a run for it. Govi thinks she’ll be his greatest challenge.”

Bevau gave them all a sympathetic smile. “At least it’s not just my clan having difficulties. Perhaps her friend knows where your Michael-Michaela Blake has gone to. Wait here and I’ll ask ... assuming Jessica McInness doesn’t shut the door in my face.”

It was Govi who offered a heartfelt, “Thank you, my prince.” And snapped another picture.

“Here, get a shot of this.” Bevau made a show of preparing himself for battle: he threw his shoulders back, pushed his chest out, and tensed his arms to make his muscles bunch. Korkla’s clan rewarded him with amused chuckles. Though classified a Nobek, Bevau was actually a rare dual-breed: half Nobek and half Imdiko. While fierce in the face of adversity, he also didn’t mind showing his more caring nature or wicked sense of humor.

Bevau had to be caring and lighthearted to be clanned to Clajak, Korkla thought as he had so many times before. Sometimes the Dramok prince’s faults outweighed his good points and enormous potential.

Bevau went to the door of Jessica’s quarters. As he pressed the visitor announce, his pretense at battle-readiness faded. The prince assumed a more pleasant, gentle mien as he waited for an answer. As Govi sometimes privately joked to Korkla, Bevau had put his Imdiko face on.

The door opened, and the prince beamed at whoever stood within the room, presumably Jessica. He spoke quietly and bowed. His smile then grew wide, making his perfect features breathtaking.

Bevau turned to the waiting clan. “Here she is, Korkla.”

Korkla started forward, eager to see Michaela. Govi grabbed his and Raxstad’s arms, slowing them down so he could whisper urgently to them.

“Go gently with her. Say nothing of her attempt to hide from us. She needs to feel safe and in control of the situation for now.”

Dramok and Nobek nodded to their clanmate. Korkla could well understand Govi’s advice, and he was willing to do what it took to make the fragile Earther feel secure.

The three men reached the still-open doorway, and Bevau moved aside, allowing them to look into the room.

Front and center was the woman who had danced at Michaela’s side the night before, Jessica McInness. Though almost as tall as Michaela, she looked nothing like the Earther Korkla wished to woo. Jessica had straight chestnut hair, sharp elfin features, blue eyes, and a slender build. Jessica was lovely in her own right, someone that might have given Korkla pause had he not met Michaela first.

Behind Jessica was a familiar face, looking at him under a cap of short hair. Korkla blinked at the beautiful young man that looked like Michaela’s twin. It took a second before he realized he looked at Michaela herself. Michaela as her male aspect.

Her black curls were tied back tight in a ponytail that just reached the nape of her neck. The dark blue shirt she wore showed no signs of round feminine swells and accentuated the width of her shoulders, shoulders much broader than Jessica’s. The shirt draped down past the top of her black trousers, masking the rounded hips he noted the night before. Polished black boots completed the costume that rendered Michaela completely masculine.

Masculine and gorgeous. Korkla’s heart thudded hard as he looked at the rounded face of the Earther he wanted to clan more than ever. By the ancestors, Michaela was stunning whichever persona she chose.

Somehow he recovered his senses enough to bow, with Govi and Raxstad following suit. “Good day, Michaela.”

Korkla was surprised his voice came out gentle rather than rough. The Earther knocked the wind out of him each time he saw her. He thought she looked at him with desire too, though he detected fear in her expression as well. Her eyes were wide and dark, and she seemed to be breathing quickly.

Her tone was husky, as if with emotion. “Hi Korkla. Govi, Raxstad.”

He reached forward and took her hand, tugging her a little closer to his clan. “You are as handsome a man as you are a beautiful woman,” he said, letting her hear the feeling in his voice.

“Thank you.”

Michaela took another step towards them on her own. She wore a dazed look on her face. Was she that surprised they hadn’t rejected her in her male guise?

Pretending his heart wasn’t racing a million miles a minute, Korkla said casually, “Israla’s garden is in bloom and quite beautiful. Would you like to come with us for a walk?”

“Okay. See you later, Jessica.”

Michaela came with them so readily that Korkla was newly surprised. He saw Govi’s raised brows and knew his psychologist clanmate was just as stunned by the Earther’s lack of reluctance.

Bevau hadn’t been kidding about Earther women liking flowers. A garden full of blooms had been all it took to tempt Michaela out of her fears.

As they walked down the corridor towards one of the huge house’s exits, Korkla kept an eye on his small charge. Little by little, she lost the dreamy-eyed look. She snuck quick glances at them, and the Dramok could feel her nervousness returning. Worry creased her brow, and a small frown touched her full lips.

She suddenly said, “I, um, I wanted to see how Jessica was doing. I guess I forgot to keep track of the time. I’m sorry you had to look for me.”

Korkla exchanged a look with his clanmates. As a law enforcement officer, Raxstad was trained to detect subterfuge. Govi also knew a lie when he heard it. Perhaps Michaela was sorry to have avoided them, but she hadn’t done so as a mistake.

Govi smiled as if he accepted her excuse. “No harm done, little one. Did Jessica enjoy meeting with her clan last night?”

Korkla knew the question for what it was: a ploy to distract Michaela from her fears of them. It worked like a charm. Her dark, almost black eyes flashed. In an instant, the nervousness disappeared from her demeanor.

She snapped, “Oh, Jessica said last night was just fine and dandy. It was this morning when Korkla’s boss showed the kind of man he is that sucked.”

Michaela leveled that angry gaze at Korkla, as if he held the blame for his employer’s actions. The Dramok sighed. “Clajak doesn’t always handle himself as well as he could.”

“He made my friend cry, Korkla. He treated her like a piece of meat and tossed her aside. He’s an asshole.”

She’d come to a stop in the middle of the hallway to confront him in an aggressive stance with her legs wide and fists parked on her hips. Michaela didn’t seem to notice Korkla stood head and shoulders above her. She didn’t care that he probably outweighed her by over a hundred pounds of muscle. She was pissed off on Jessica’s behalf, demanding someone make it right.