Close Remembrance

Chapter 10

Chapter Ten

Korum watched her animated face over lunch, loving the shy, yet admiring glances she directed his way during their conversation. The attraction between them was as strong as ever, and he had no doubt he would be able to seduce her again. Perhaps even tonight—though she might not be ready for that.

For once, Korum was determined not to pressure Mia into his bed. When they’d first met, the strength of his desire for her had caught him off-guard, causing him to act in ways he would’ve normally condemned. He didn’t want to repeat the same mistakes, no matter how much his c**k insisted that she was his—that she belonged to him and he had the right to take her, to pleasure her, whenever he chose. Graphic s****l images danced in his head as he watched her enjoying her meal, imagining her soft little mouth nibbling on his flesh instead of the piece of fruit she was consuming.

It didn’t help that he was still on an adrenaline high after Loris’s attack. Fighting often boosted his already strong libido, the increased aggression translating into a primitive urge to f**k. It was always that way with Krinar men—and human ones too, as far as he knew. Violence and s*x had been intertwined since the beginning of time, both appealing to the same male drive to dominate and conquer.

But no matter how much his body demanded it, Korum didn’t want to push her. She seemed to be responding so well to the entire situation, looking at him with curiosity and desire instead of fear. If he could just be patient, she would come to him herself, lured by the same need that crawled under his skin.

So, as the lunch went on, Korum kept a tight leash on himself, not even touching Mia in case his good intentions flew out the window. He told her more about the nanocytes in her body and showed her some of the capabilities of Krinar technology, creating a silver cup using nanos and then dissolving it the same way. He also explained about her internship and how she had already begun to contribute to the Krinar society, enjoying the way her eyes lit up with excitement at the thought.

Toward the end, as they were finishing dessert—a platter of freshly cut mango with pistachio sauce—Korum noticed that Mia seemed a little nervous, as though there was something on her mind. Unable to resist any longer, he reached across the table and took her hand, massaging her palm lightly with his thumb.

“Is there something you’d like to ask me, my sweet?” he said, smiling, watching as a pretty blush crept across her cheeks.

“Um, maybe...” The color on her face intensified. “Okay, you’re probably going to laugh at me, but I just have to know...” She swallowed. “Is there any truth to the rumors that you guys drink blood?”

At her innocently provocative question, Korum almost groaned, his c**k instantly hardening to the point of pain. She didn’t know, of course, that human blood and s****l pleasure were inseparable in the mind of a modern Krinar—and that bringing up the topic like that was the equivalent of asking a Krinar to f**k you. Even the most amazing s*x paled in comparison to the ecstasy of the combined act of blood-drinking and intercourse.

“There is some truth to them,” Korum said carefully, glad that she couldn’t see his raging hard-on. “It was once necessary for our survival, but it’s not any longer.” And trying to suppress his overwhelming need to take her, he went through the complicated story of Krinar evolution and the seeding of the human race.

“So now you drink blood for pleasure?” Mia asked, staring at him with a shocked, yet intrigued expression on her face.

“Yes.” Korum hoped she would drop the topic before he completely lost it.

She didn’t. Instead, she looked at him, her cheeks flushed and her eyes bright with curiosity and something more. “Did you—” she stopped to moisten her lips, “—did you ever take my blood?”

Korum thought he might literally explode. Something of what he was feeling must’ve shown on his face because she gulped nervously and pulled her hand out of his grasp. Smart girl.

There was a moment of awkward silence, and then she asked hesitantly, “Why do your eyes do that? Turn more golden, I mean... Is that a Krinar thing?”

Korum took a deep, calming breath. When he was reasonably certain he wasn’t going to pounce on her, he replied, “No, it’s just a weird genetic quirk. It’s most common among people from my region of Krina. My mother has it too, and so did my grandfather.”

“Your grandfather?”

Korum nodded. “He was killed in a fight when my mother was about my age.”

“What about your grandmother and your other grandparents?”

“My grandmother from my mother’s side died in a freak accident when she was exploring one of the asteroids in a neighboring solar system. Some even thought it was a suicide, since my grandfather was killed only a few years before that. As for my father’s parents, they dissolved their union shortly after my father’s birth—one of the very few couples to do so after having children. Apparently my grandmother wanted out, but my grandfather didn’t—and he ended up getting into an Arena challenge with the man she took as her lover. My grandfather didn’t survive, and my grandmother took her own life shortly after that, apparently too sick with guilt to go on living. It was not a happy story.”

Her eyes filled with sympathy. “Oh, I’m sorry—”

“It’s all right, my sweet. It happened before I was even born. It’s unfortunate, but death is a tragedy that happens to everyone at one point or another. Humans might view us as immortal because we don’t age, but we are still living beings—and we can still be killed, no matter how advanced our technology is or how fast we heal. That’s why the Elders are so revered in our society: because it’s nearly impossible to live that long without meeting with one deadly accident or another.”

“You’ve mentioned these Elders before.” Mia was clearly fascinated. “Who are they? Do they rule Krina?”

“No.” Korum shook his head. “They don’t rule in the sense of being involved in politics or anything like that. That’s what the Council is for: to deal with ongoing matters. The Elders provide guidance and set direction for our species as a whole.”

“Oh, I see.” She looked thoughtful for a second. “So how old are they?”

“I believe the youngest is just over a million Earth years,” Korum said, smiling at the look of wonder on her face. “And the oldest is somewhere around ten million.”

She stared at him. “Wow...”

“Wow indeed,” Korum agreed, enjoying her reaction.

When the lunch was finally over, they took a long walk on the beach and talked some more. Korum held her hand as they leisurely strolled on the sand, reveling in the feel of her small fingers squeezing his palm so trustingly.

He had been worried initially that her memory loss would set them back months, that she would be frightened of him again. But instead, it seemed as if a part of her still knew him—maybe even still loved him. Her calm acceptance of the situation was both surprising and encouraging, particularly since there was no guarantee they would ever be able to reverse the damage Saret had caused.

After the Council meeting, Korum had visited Ellet, hoping that the human biology expert had made some progress toward finding a fix. While the human brain was not her specialty, Korum had hoped she might’ve been able to learn of some research being done in that direction. To his tremendous disappointment, Ellet hadn’t come across anything, despite reaching out to dozens of Krinar scientists on both planets. She had also spoken to all the mind experts at the other Centers. As far as she knew, there was no way to undo a memory wipe of the kind that Saret had used.

“So what made you decide to come to Earth?” Mia asked as they stopped to sit down on a pair of large rocks. In front of them, a small estuary flowed into the ocean, serving as an obstacle to further passage but creating a very scenic view. “I know you told me how you planted life here and basically created humans, but why come here and live alongside us? From what you’ve said, Krina sounds like a very nice place to live. Why bother leaving it?”

“Our sun is an older star,” Korum explained, repeating what he’d once told her. “It will die in about a hundred million years. At that point, we’ll need another place to live—and Earth appeals to us for obvious reasons.”

She frowned, wrinkling her forehead in a way he found very endearing. “But that’s so far away... Why would you come now? Why not wait another ninety million years or so?”

Korum sighed, recalling their last discussion on this topic. “Because your species was becoming very destructive to the environment, my sweet. We wanted to make sure that we had a habitable planet for when we needed it.” That was the official story, at least. The full explanation was more complicated and not something he was ready to share with Mia quite yet.

Her frown deepened. She obviously didn’t like hearing that—but then his charl tended to get defensive when he criticized her kind. He couldn’t really blame her for that; she was as loyal to her people as he was to his.

“So when your star begins to die, all the Krinar will come to Earth?” she asked, her eyes narrowing slightly.

“Most likely,” Korum said. He actually hoped that wouldn’t be the case, but he couldn’t tell her that yet.

“Then what would happen to us? To the humans, I mean? Do you really intend to live with us side by side? Wouldn’t the planet be too crowded then?”

Korum hesitated for a moment. She was asking all the right questions, and he didn’t want to lie to her—but he couldn’t tell her the truth yet either. The last thing they needed was for some rumors to spread and cause the humans to panic again.

“Not necessarily,” he hedged. “Besides, that’s not something we’ll have to worry about for a very long time.”

She looked at him, obviously trying to decide how much he could be trusted. Korum could practically see the wheels turning in her head. He loved that about her: her unabashed curiosity about everything, the logical way her mind processed information. She was young and naive, but she was also very intelligent, and he had no doubt that one day she would leave her own mark on society.

For now, though, Korum needed to distract her from this particular line of questions. Smiling, he reached over and brushed her hair away from her face. “So what do you think of Lenkarda so far? Are you starting to feel more comfortable, or is it still very strange to you?”

She gave him a small smile. “I don’t know, honestly. It’s not as strange as it should be. I don’t remember anything here, but it’s like I know it on some level. And it’s the same thing with you—”

“I’m as familiar to you as the furniture?” Korum teased, watching as her smile widened into a full-blown grin.

“You are...” She laughed ruefully. “I don’t understand how any of this works, but you’re not nearly as scary as you should be. None of this is, for some reason.”

Korum felt his chest expanding to fill with something very much like happiness. “That’s good, my sweet,” he said, stroking the softness of her cheek. “You shouldn’t be scared of me. I would never hurt you. You’re my everything; you’re my entire world. I would sooner die than hurt you. Believe me, there’s no reason to be afraid...”

As he spoke, he could see her smile fading and a strangely vulnerable expression appearing on her face instead. “Do you—” she swallowed, her slim throat moving, “—do you love me?”

“I do,” Korum answered without hesitation. “More than anyone I’ve ever loved in my life.”

“But why?” She seemed genuinely confused. “I’m just an ordinary human, and you’re—” She stopped, her cheeks turning pink again.

“I’m what?” Korum prompted, wanting to see more of that pretty blush. He wasn’t sure why he found it so appealing, but it never failed to arouse him. Then again, she turned him on simply by breathing, so it wasn’t all that surprising he found her flushed cheeks irresistible.

The color in her face deepened. “You’re a gorgeous K who’s been around since the dawn of time,” she said quietly. “What could you possibly see in me?”

Korum smiled, shaking his head. His little darling had never understood her appeal, never realized how tempting she was to the male of both species. Everything about her, from the soft, thick curls on her head to the creaminess of her skin, seemed to be made for a man’s touch. She might not be classically beautiful, but in her own delicate way, she was quite striking, with those large blue eyes and dark hair.

In hindsight, Korum should’ve known better than to let her work in such close proximity with another unattached male. He couldn’t really blame Saret for wanting her, for craving something that he himself was so obsessed with. He wanted to tear his former friend apart for what he’d done, but he understood—at least partially—why Saret had done it. If the roles had been reversed, and Mia had been someone else’s charl, Korum didn’t know how far he would’ve gone to get her for his own, how many taboos he would’ve broken in his quest to possess her.

Of course, her physical appeal was only a part of it now. Reaching over, Korum took her hand again. “I see in you the woman I love,” he said, not even trying to hide the depth of his emotions. “I see a beautiful, smart girl who’s sweet and brave and has the courage of her convictions. I see someone who’ll do anything for those she loves, who’ll go to any lengths to protect those dear to her. I see someone I can’t live without, someone who brightens every moment of my existence and makes me happier than I’ve ever been in my life.”

Mia inhaled, her eyes filling with moisture. “Oh Korum...” Her slender fingers twitched in his grasp. “Korum, I don’t even know what to say—”

“You don’t have to say anything,” he interrupted, ignoring the pain of her inadvertent rejection. “I know I’m still a stranger to you. I don’t expect you to feel the same way about me now as you did before. Not yet, at least...”

She nodded, and a single tear rolled down her face. “I hate this,” she confessed, her voice breaking for a second. “I hate that such a big part of my life disappeared, that I lost everything that brought us to this point. I need you, but I don’t know you, and it’s driving me crazy. I loved you too, didn’t I? Even though all that stuff happened between us, we were still in love, right?”

“Yes,” Korum said, his hand tightening around her palm. “Yes, we were very much in love, my darling.” And unable to resist any longer, he gently wrapped one arm around her back, bringing her closer to him. She buried her face against his shoulder, and he could feel the wetness from her tears on his bare skin. The sweet scent of her hair teased his nostrils, her nearness making his c**k harden again.

Don’t be such an animal. She needs comfort now, Korum told himself. And ignoring the lust raging through his body, he let Mia cry, knowing she needed this emotional release.

After a minute, she pulled away, looking up at him through tear-spiked lashes. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, “I didn’t mean to cry all over you...”

Korum smiled, wiping away the wetness on her cheeks with his knuckles. “You can cry all over me any time you want.” Her tears were as precious to him as her smiles. He hated to see her sad, but liked the feel of her slender body in his arms, enjoyed being the one to soothe her, to make her pain go away.

Even if, more often than not, he had been the cause of that pain.

They spent the rest of the day together on the beach, with Korum patiently explaining everything Mia had once known and forgotten about the Krinar. He told her about blood addiction and xenos, the Celebration of Forty-Seven and the importance of ‘standing’ in Krinar society. She listened attentively, asking questions, and Korum gladly answered them, knowing how much she needed to catch up on.

“So do you have the concept of money? How does your economy work?” Her eyes were bright and curious as they continued their discussion over dinner.

“Yes, we definitely have the concept of money.” Korum paused to take a bite of his peanut-flavored soba noodles. “We work and get paid for the contributions we make to our society. The greater the contribution, the greater the pay, regardless of the field. However, wealth is not as important to us as it is to humans. Our economy is neither purely capitalist nor government-run; it’s kind of a blend of the two. For the most part, everyone has their basic needs met. There’s no such thing as homelessness or hunger on Krina. Even the laziest Krinar lives quite well by human standards. But, to have anything beyond food, shelter, and daily necessities, you have to do something productive with your life—you have to contribute to society in some way.”

She was looking very interested, so Korum continued his explanation. “Financial rewards are only a part of the reason why people work, though. The main motivation is the need to be respected, to be recognized for our achievements. Few Krinar want to go through life having others look down upon them. You see, for us, having a low standing is almost like being an outcast. Someone who’s never done anything useful in his life will ultimately find himself treated with contempt by others. Having a high standing is much more important than being wealthy—although the two usually go hand-in-hand.”

“So wealthy Krinar have a high standing, and vice versa?” Mia asked.

“No, not necessarily. One could be wealthy through inheritance or family, but that doesn’t mean that person will have a high standing. Rafor, Loris’s son, is a prime example of that. His father gave him all the wealth he could possibly need, but he couldn’t give him a good standing. That can only be earned—or lost—through one’s own efforts.”

Mia looked puzzled. “Wait, how do you lose standing through your own efforts?”

“There are a number of ways,” Korum said. “Committing a crime is an obvious one. So is doing something dishonorable, like cheating on your mate. It’s also possible to lose standing by failing at something important. For instance, Loris took that risk by assuming the role of the Protector for his son and the Keiths. Once they are judged guilty, his standing will be much lower and he’ll no longer be on the Council. That’s why he challenged me to the Arena today—because he has very little to lose at this point.”

Her eyes widened with surprise. “What do you mean, he challenged you?”

Korum hesitated. Perhaps he shouldn’t have mentioned it to Mia just yet, but it was too late now. “Remember I told you about the Arena earlier today?” he asked.

“You said it was a way to resolve irreconcilable differences...” A small frown appeared on her face.

“Yes,” Korum confirmed, “it is. And that’s what Loris and I have: an irreconcilable difference of opinion. I think his son is a traitorous lowlife, and he disagrees.”

“So he challenged you to a fight? But I thought you said those were dangerous—”

“They are.” Korum smiled in anticipation, familiar excitement zinging through his veins. He needed this sometimes: the danger, the adrenaline, the raw physical challenge of subduing an opponent. As much as he enjoyed fighting during defrebs matches, he was always aware that it was just a game, that everyone would walk away with nothing more than a few scrapes and bruises. There was no such guarantee in the Arena, which is what made it so thrilling.

“So you could be killed?” Mia’s eyes were beginning to glisten with moisture, and Korum realized that she found the idea more than a little disturbing. He definitely shouldn’t have brought this up yet.

“There is a small chance,” he said carefully, not wanting to upset her further. “Although killing is technically illegal, it’s usually forgiven if it happens in the heat of an Arena battle. But you don’t need to worry, my sweet. I can take care of myself.”

She didn’t seem convinced. “You said he hates you.” Her voice quivered a little. “Wouldn’t he try to kill you?”

“He can certainly try,” Korum said, “but I’m not going to let him. You have nothing to worry about—”

“He’s not a good fighter?”

“He is,” Korum admitted. “Or at least he used to be. I don’t know his skill level these days.”

“Don’t do it,” she said, reaching over to grab his hand. “Please, Korum, don’t do this fight—”

“Mia...” He sighed, covering her hand with his own. “Listen to me, darling, once a challenge has been issued, it cannot be undone. I can’t walk away from this fight, and neither can Loris. We’re both committed, do you understand that?”

“No,” she said stubbornly, “I don’t. I don’t want you to risk your life like that—”

“It’s not as big of a risk as you think,” Korum said. “When he attacked me today, it took me all of ten seconds to get to his throat. If that had been an Arena fight, he would’ve been declared a loser at that point.” It was equally likely that Loris would’ve been dead, but Korum didn’t want to tell Mia that. Human women and violence generally didn’t mix well—especially when the woman in question was a sheltered young girl.

“So when is the fight supposed to be?” She still looked upset.

Korum sighed. He really should’ve kept quiet about this. “The day after tomorrow,” he said. “At noon.”