took in her appearance.
She was Elf.
That fact threatened to extinguish the sexual
tension he’d felt, as he struggled with the conflict created by her
alluring, yet radical, appearance. In spite of his heritage - or
more accurately, because of it - Zak had a long-standing aversion
toward Elves. It was not that he was a racist. It was personal and
it had to do with family. In any case, he had a strict policy of
avoiding any associations with Elves, both socially and
professionally, when at all possible.
Ke’aira seemed not to have any doubt
concerning her feelings for this visitor. She went to the Elf girl
and jumped up, placing a paw on each of the girl’s shoulders. She
then began welcoming her with kisses, her tongue quickly lapping at
the girl’s cheeks.
Megan giggled in delight and briskly rubbed
the dog’s coat. As she returned Ke’aira’s affection, she looked
beyond where Zak stood to gain a peek at the rest of the loft.
“Wow, this is quite a place you have!”
She spoke with almost no accent, although now
it seemed very distinctive to Zak.
“Yes, we like it,” he managed. She was not
what Zak would call your typical Elf. Her raven black hair, cut to
shoulder length and highlighted with streaks of blonde, defied
Elvish tradition as much as the rest of her appearance. But it was
her eyes that seemed to refuse his rejection. They were the deepest
emerald green, with a scattering of golden flecks that seemed to
drift upon subtle currents, threatening to pull him into their
extraordinary depths.
“You said, we . You are married?”
“No. No, not at all,” Zak stammered,
realizing his attention had refocused on her perfect mouth, those
sensually pouty lips enticing him as they had before her unveiling.
“There’s just me and Ke’aira. She’s the one trying to lick the skin
off your face.”
Ke’aira’s affection to this woman put Zak
further off balance. She did not take to strangers. In fact, the
dog was usually downright disagreeable with strangers!
“Ke’aira,” Megan repeated the dog’s name and
giggled again. The sound was delightful to Zak. She then leaned
close to Ke’aira’s ear and whispered.
The dog gave her an affectionate whine,
licked the side of her face once more and dropped to the floor. Zak
watched in disbelief as Ke’aira assumed a protective stance next to
the young Elf, leaning her body into the girl’s leg.
“You gave her an Elvish name,” Megan said,
stroking the top of Ke’aira’s head. “Very cool. But little dark
one ?”
“Yeah well, she was a lot smaller when I got
her.” The Elf’s actions were annoying. She had no right to display
such familiarity with his dog. Or was it jealousy he felt over
Ke’aira’s quick acceptance of the girl. Could Megan have used a
spell on the dog to sway her to her side?
“So, may I come in?” Megan asked after a
couple of awkward moments of silence.
“Oh, sure.” He attempted to push his
attraction toward her aside as he considered what to do about her.
She was beautiful in spite of her rebellious look, but she was an
Elf. And that was a major problem. “Come in.”
Megan followed him through the kitchen to the
living area. Her movements were lithe and confident, and
suggestively sensual. Ke’aira followed closely at her side.
“I take it you have a thing for plants,”
Megan said as they passed through the kitchen on the way to the
living area.
“Yes. With my work, I don’t get much of a
chance to get away from the city. So I figured if I can’t get out
into nature, I’d just bring nature to me.”
“Umm, and basketball?” she observed, staring
back towards the large empty space at the rear of the loft. The
basketball hoops were just visible through the vegetation.
“Yeah, I like to shoot some hoops once in a
while,” he said. “Although, I much prefer football over other
sports.”
Why was he even telling her these things? He
didn’t work with Elves. And he certainly didn’t socialize
C. J. Cherryh
Learning to Kill: Stories
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Brenda Sinclair
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