cloak,” she added to J’are, who reluctantly dropped the dark cloak as he and Imani edged their way out of the bedroom with their hands raised.
“So you killed her because you didn’t want to pay her back?” Imani thought it was best to keep the other woman talking—maybe it would also keep her from shooting.
“Well, my morphids did,” Lady Bittlebum said. “I had to be there to direct them, of course—and to smear the blood on that big brute.” She nodded at J’are. “This way now—into this room here.”
She was herding them down the hall and into a vast room much bigger than the grand bedchamber—a room which was completely empty with blank white walls and floors.
It suddenly occurred to Imani that there was no way the wily Mistress would be confessing this if she intended to keep them alive. Maybe she had brought them into this bare room to murder them because the crime scene would be easier to clean up than in the fully furnished bedchamber.
“If you kill us, the Kindred will be after you,” she said quickly. “They won’t stop until they get you!”
“Oh, I don’t intend to kill you—no, no.” Mistress Bittlebum made a shocked face that looked a little too fake to Imani.
“Then why are you telling us all this?” J’are demanded. “Why are you confessing?”
“Well, for one thing, because I’m quite sure no one would believe you—especially now that you don’t have any evidence.” She turned to one of the morphids and spoke. “Go and burn that cloak—the one lying on my bedchamber floor.” Running her free hand—the one not holding the blaster—over her hair, she then brushed her palm over the giant insect’s twitching antennae and it bounded away.
“So you’re not going to kill us because you think no one will believe us?” Imani asked doubtfully.
“Exactly.” Lady Bittlebum smiled brightly. “But also because, by the time this night is over, I’ll have something every bit as damning on you as you have on me.”
“What are you talking about?” J’are growled. “We’ve done nothing you can use against us in court.”
“Oh, but you will. Before the night is over, you most certainly will.” Lady Bittlebum smirked at them unpleasantly. “You, Nightwalker, are going to commit the ultimate crime—the crime of penetration. And if my research about your kind is correct, you’ll be committing the crime of impregnation at the same time! And all with that pretty little Defender of yours.”
“What are you talking about?” Imani demanded. “J’are’s not going to…to do that to me!”
“And I’m not one of those damn morphids you order around. You can’t make me rape my Defender,” J’are growled.
“Oh yes he is and oh yes I can,” Lady Bittlebum said, speaking to both of them. “Don’t you recognize this room, Nightwalker? It’s the simulation area my foolish aunt, Mistress Hownow, made for you so that you’d feel more at home in her house.”
She snapped her fingers and suddenly the blank white walls and floor and ceiling were gone. In their place was a tropical jungle, complete with trailing vines, tall trees, bushy ferns, and sweetly scented tropical blooms. It was night in the forest, Imani saw, but there was still light coming from over head.
Looking up, she saw three round, pale moons in the sky. One had a slightly reddish cast and the other two had a blue glow.
J’are had looked up too and when he looked down again, she saw horror and fear in his pale green eyes.
“No,” he said hoarsely to Lady Bittlebum. “You can’t do this to us! Don’t make me do this—please, just let us go and I swear we’ll never say a word about what we know!”
“I’m afraid your oath isn’t good enough for me, Nightwalker,” Lady Bittlebum spat. “I don’t want to kill the two of you—it would invite entirely too many questions, especially since you would be last seen at my party. But I can’t have you blabbing either. So I require assurances.”
“I…I don’t understand.” Imani shook her head and looked at J’are. “What assurances? What is she talking about?”
“This is the room I told you about—the one Mother Hownow made to simulate my home world so I wouldn’t get homesick,” J’are said tightly.
“Okay. So?” Imani shook her head again, still not getting it.
“So, the three moons are in the sky,” J’are growled. “The Water Twins and the Blood Brother. If they converge, my feral side will think it’s Claiming night. Or worse—Bonding night.”
“Bonding night?” Imani put a hand to her throat. “J’are,