Page 14 of The Blind Hordesman

“Pussy. That's the magic word. Now, I'm gonna count to three. If you’re not out of here, you’re gonna regret it. One pussy.”

“Say please.”

“Two pussy.”

Okay, what would he do? He’s bluffing, isn’t he?

“Three pussy.” He moves.

I bolt out of there as fast as my feet can carry me and make it to the tent in record time. Inside, I sit on his chair. Expecting him to have chased after me, I stare at the flap swinging on the wind. Disappointment sets in when he doesn’t show up. Oh, I am so screwed. Damn it. Okay, okay. White com unit. Nope, nowhere on the desk but there’s a small worn sack. I pick it up. It’s really soft, and as I feel the soft leather in my hands, I bring it to my nose. Oh my. Smells of leather and Alpha. It’s such an inviting combination that I close my eyes and inhale again. When I open my eyes, I notice a hound insignia. This is a Horde marker. The Warlords move under the bull flag.

He’s probably waiting for me to return with the recipe, so I better hurry along. I shake out the sack’s contents, and they spill on the table. A necklace, too small for his neck, with a shiny yellow stone the size of a pea. The stone’s rough surface reflects even the tiny bit of light piercing the tent flap. There’re other trinkets, and a white plastic thing that looks like it could fit into an ear. I fit it in mine, then tap twice.

“Seer, boy, I’m glad you called. As I said to you when we last met, you must keep me in the loop. Why have you not kept me informed?”

“Hello, Mr. Dreikx. This is not Seer.” His name is Seer. What a nice name, and so unusual for a Regha male. Seer has no hierarchy indicating if he is firstborn, second-born, or which-born male.

“Who is this?” the Telean asks.

“Rickie Lee. I’m Seer’s good doggy.”

“I worry about him. Now in particular.”

“Nah, I wouldn’t worry about him at all. He’s doing just fine.”

“And what are you doing?”

“I’m calling for the recipe for Omega cookies.”

“He found Betaren, I presume.”

“We keep a full stock.” I prop my feet up on the desk. The male’s accent is neat, and I’m speaking with Dreikx, the Telean general that Father admires for all his inventions.

“We whom, dear?”

“My sisters and I.”

“On my screen, I am looking at your location, and I have a million and one questions.”

“I don’t think this Alpha likes to wait. He wants the recipe.”

“He doesn’t call me for months. We have no idea where he is or what he’s doing, then suddenly, he has a girl I don’t know call me for a cookie recipe. You must understand how difficult this is for me.”

“I do understand. Ask me any one of your million and one questions, and then give me the recipe.”

“Interesting. Are you negotiating with me?”

“Yeah.”

Silence, then: “Is the imposter there?”

“He’s not an imposter.”

“Ah, I see. Is Utay there?”

“No.”

“Where is he?”

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