Page 50 of Possessed By the Leonid King

“Not naturally, no. But there’s a very talented medical officer and researcher on board. Dr. Marcus—Well, I’m sure he has a last name and he probably told me at some point, but that’s not important. Can they come back in now?” Layla gestured behind her. “Rupex can set your mind at ease, Dane, and Marcus might have something your human-Lynxian couples will value. It hasn’t worked yet, but at least we have hope. When this quarantine lifts, maybe one of our first stops can be a rendezvous with your medical officers to explain how the chromosomal compatibility works. I mean, you’re going to have to let Marcus explain it because I have no idea. I’m just hoping.” Layla found herself looking into Cherie’s eyes and seeing the same longing mirrored there.

That gorgeous woman loves that rough and wild Lynxian. I can see why. He’s cute, in a scruffy way. And he might not be too sophisticated, but I like his style. Layla didn’t have to guess too hard what had happened to the traffickers and the Felids who worked with them. She couldn’t say she was saddened by the thought.

“Please, Dane. Let’s ask them. If it’s too dangerous, we won’t try.”

“Hell, woman. You know I can’t say no to you. Miss Layla, if they’re forcing you to say anything under threat of harm, blink at me now.”

Layla rolled her eyes. “Would you like me to give you an up close and personal demonstration of just how much I’m enjoying my contract? I’m pretty sure it’s something cubs shouldn’t see.”

Cherie smiled wickedly. “I wouldn’t mind.”

“Hush, Cher!” Dane pulled on his whiskers nervously. “All right. Bring ‘em in.”

Chapter Twenty

Rupex felt like a fool. A fool outsmarted by a paunchy old Lynxian with nubby teeth and a Queen who absolutely adored him.

Adored him for free. No contracts between them. During their long conversation, it transpired that Cherie now taught at the community school and shared a home with Dane and his three nephews and one niece, his widowed sister having been killed by the virus. All the cubs were trotted out and displayed with pride. They crawled over “Auntie Cher and Uncle Dane” with obvious love.

He held Layla to his side and felt her melt against him. Tears trembled on the surface of her eyes, catching the light.

She wants my cubs. Wants me.

Marcus and a local Lynxian doctor who had been patched in split off onto a separate call. Rupex and Dane made awkward farewells and half-apologies for suspecting each other of horrible crimes against civility—and tacitly agreeing not to mention that they would both murder human traffickers in warm, delicious blood.

“Are you and Dane official? You know?” Layla bit her lip.

“A marriage?” Cherie sounded surprised.

“Only rich people get married, I know,” Layla laughed off her foolishness.

“Say what? It don’t cost a single damn credit to get married. Well... the license fee is a little pricey, but you don’t have to throw a big do.” Dane proudly hauled up Cherie’s arm and pointed to a circle of golden bangles on her small wrist. “You better bet I asked for her to wear my ring!”

“That’s a ring?”

Rupex elbowed Layla. “Very lovely. There was no trouble with others in your community?”

“We ain’t too proud. Love of a good woman is love of a good woman. Don’t matter the thickness of her fur.”

Cherie laughed at Layla’s confused expression. “It is an old Lynxian expression from back when the first inter-species marriages occurred between Servalis and Lynxians. It just means that no, there is very little prejudice. Many Lynxian males seem to find their human Queens have most desirable attributes. Isn’t that so, Dane?”

Dane leaned forward and addressed the screen. “She ain’t got a tail, but she’s got a mighty fine—”

“That’s wonderful!” Rupex declared in a strangled voice. “Uh. Bastet’s blessings to you both. We’ll be in touch. We must have dinner sometime.”

He smacked the monitor and ended the call. “Interesting people.”

“Very. But you interest me more.” Layla yawned and leaned against him, giggling into his side. “It’s funny how you and Dane both thought the worst of each other. Turns out, you have plenty in common. You both like women who have no tails but mighty fine asses.”

Rupex gave her a grudging smile. “Yours is far superior. And I am nothing like that old rock dweller with gravel in his fur.”

“Is that an insult to cat-people?” Layla asked, trying and failing to hold in a yawn. “I get sleepy during my cycle. There’s so much to do and to talk about...but I can barely keep my eyes open.”

“Then don’t. Rest them.”

“But I don’t want to sleep. I want to—” Layla stopped speaking as a huge yawn threatened to dislocate her jaw. “Do research,” she concluded.

“You can research after you rest. Right now, all you’d find out is that resting your head on a database computer is useless. It doesn’t have a neural link to read thoughts. They tried that back in the early 2100s. Massive failure and fatal within a short time.”

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