Unleashed by the Defender (Brides of the Kindred #25) - Evangeline Anderson Page 0,32

into the courtroom…a judge with blue hair…seeing that yellow-haired bitch, Mistress Bittlebum, who had locked him in a pain collar and then sold him to Lady Zangelo, who was even worse.

She had used the pain collar and the pain prod on him over and over again and then he woke up, covered in her blood and they said he’d killed her. But had he? J’are couldn’t remember it if he had, he only knew that he’d been thrown down into the hole with all the other killers and scum, waiting his turn to be executed…

Wait…J’are shook his head. He was losing his train of thought here. Everything was a big muddled mess. He was trying to reconstruct what had happened to him last night from the confusing images supplied by his feral half—it was like looking through a series of bright, jumbled vid-pics played in rapid succession and trying to make a coherent story out of them.

So he had been dragged back into the court and then the lovely girl he was somehow sleeping with had Claimed him. Or at least, she had convinced the Yonnites to free him and she had taken him back with her to this place—wherever it was. He had vague memories of her putting him in the tub and scrubbing something off of him—oh right—the black synther paint he’d used to hide his k’dra markings so they wouldn’t give him away in the darkness of the hole. And then—

The girl in his arms stirred and opened her eyes.

“J’are?” she mumbled, looking up at him. “You all right?”

J’are felt his heart start to pound as he looked down into her lovely dark eyes. Maybe she had Claimed him, after all.

“I’m sorry,” he said to her. “But I don’t know your name. Could you tell me who you are and how I got here?”

Eighteen

“What?” Imani stiffened in the big Kindred’s arms. “What do you mean you don’t know my name? I told you when I came to get you—I’m Imani—the attorney, er, Defender—the Kindred of the Mother Ship sent to represent you in court.”

He frowned.

“If you’re my legal Councilor, why are we sleeping together like this?”

“I…you…you mean you don’t remember that either?” Imani felt her cheeks getting hot. “And how come you’re not talking like a caveman anymore?” she demanded.

“A what?” His frown deepened. “You want me to talk like I came from a cave?”

“No, no—that’s not…” It was really uncomfortable talking to him about all this when she was still wrapped in his arms and he was looming over her.

Quickly, Imani disentangled herself and sat up in bed, facing him.

“Last night,” she said, trying to make sense of everything. “You were different. I think maybe you were in your, uh, feral state?” She wasn’t sure if that was offensive to say or not but she didn’t see how else she could put it.

“My feral state?” He raised an eyebrow at her. “What do you know about that?”

“Only what I was told on the Mother Ship,” Imani said quickly. “That you’re a Nightwalker and you have this kind of…of animalistic fugue state you go into and I was warned never, ever to let you get into that state but when I finally made them bring you into the courtroom, you were already in it. At least, it seemed like it because you were snarling and growling and even when you calmed down you weren’t talking in complete sentences. And—”

She broke off abruptly, realizing she was babbling in her embarrassment and haste to explain.

“And?” he inquired, clearly wanting her to finish.

“And I don’t really know that much about your people, so I’m sorry if I offended you,” she said. “I know it’s really awkward to wake up in a bed with some woman you don’t even know and believe me, I feel awkward too. But last night—”

“Yes, what exactly happened last night?” J’are’s pale green eyes seemed to pierce right through her. “I have some very strange memories but they’re all over the place. The feral part of me—yes, you got that part right—isn’t very good with communicating.”

“Last night…” Damn! Imani could feel her cheeks getting hot. Last night she had done things with him no attorney ought to do with her client. And now he was in his right mind and asking what she had done.

Imani felt like a felon—like she had taken advantage of him in his altered state of consciousness to do sexual things with his big body without asking for consent. How could she