Divine Charity

Chapter Sixteen: Struggle and Strife

Khamuel kept busy well into the late hours of the next day, yet his thoughts were for Lena. He fought against the urge to probe her thoughts and learn what mood she had awakened in, though he supposed Lena would be filled with rage at having been drugged and forced into his grants.

It was far past the time Lena would have the girls settled in for the night when he arrived, and at first, it disgruntled Khamuel to see Pnina and Kiara cuddled with Lena on a lounger. Khamuel was unused to anyone sleeping in his grant. Now, it seemed his woman was prone to inviting others and making them feel at home enough to set camp. Perhaps this did not displease him.

And Fiadn, that ever-present lout, sat snoring in his favorite lounger. That Lena allowed Fiadn into their grant gave Khamuel pause, though it should not have. Lena was cunning in an unassuming way. She either wanted to keep her perceived enemies close, or she wanted a buffer. Her cunning both annoyed and amused him.

Khamuel looked around the room and wondered what happened in his absence. Certainly, a feast of unhealthy foods gluttonously consumed by famished, bipedal shaped flchiaz. Remnants of food, drinks, and children's toys littered the common room floor. Everyone slept soundly, as a cinemograph played softly in the corner. The twins were wrapped in blankets sleeping on the floor.

Khamuel moved silently. First, to Sasha, who was only half wrapped by her "woobie." She shivered and snuggled deeper into her blanket as he adjusted it. He checked her bands to ensure they were working properly as there was a definite chill in the room. Leila was a barely recognizable bundle of blankets, so he let her be.

Khamuel went to Lena and kneeled before her, taking in the sight of her in the soft glow of the room and marveled at her loveliness. The tumble of curls splayed about her head, her lashes so long they rested upon the russet brown of her high cheekbones. Those bow-shaped lips of hers parted softly in sleep. The sight of her slim neck he once took so much pleasure in kissing caused his scaef to ache. She was lovely. Too lovely.

Sensing she was being watched, her eyes fluttered open, only to fill with wariness. Khamuel tried not to take offense.

"Sleep," he whispered.

Lena closed her eyes, more to block him out than to slumber. The knowledge sent a tremor of hurt through him. He went to his room, cleansed himself, then lay abed brooding. While away on Earth, he spent more time thinking of their last conversation than conducting business. How could Lena be what she was, gone through what she had and still find reasons to persevere? What strength she had. What courage!

When not in the throes of rage, Lena was soft, caring, with a bit of steel to her spine and a splash of venom to her tongue. He smirked. Well, she was spawn, after all. Of course, she would come with a bite.

Khamuel thought back to his brother's words. "She is your gift, and you hers."

Was that why he often treated her with affection, even as a piece of himself remained cautious? Could Lena truly be a gift? The repayment for all he lost?

She was certainly his adventure. The chaos to his mostly staid existence. She held no real deference to him, yet was wise enough to placate him with her outward docility. Lena did not fool him. She was intelligent; always assessing her situation and adjusting her thoughts in order to survive. He wondered if, given half a chance, would she still leave Charity? It was a ridiculous thought, borne more from his longing than intellect. Lena was too angry. She would definitely leave.

That thought brought darkness to his heart, and even his mind rebelled at the idea. He did not wish her to leave him. Even before Lena was captured, he wished to win her affections. Not as some ploy to garner information. Not to keep a watchful eye upon her in order to find any misdeeds. He wanted her to want him. Wanted her faith in him and her loyalty freely given. Yet he had not earned it. At the first test of his trust and loyalty, he failed her. What could he offer Lena now? How could he make himself known to her when still, the knowledge of her sire rankled so deeply within him?