Chained (Brides of the Kindred) by Evangeline Anderson Page B

growing apprehension and now he took an involuntary step
back.
    “My apologies,” he said quickly. “I can
see the lady has all the help she needs.”
    “You’re damn right she does,” Kor growled.
“And you can spread it to the other males in this place as well—no one touches
my lady but me.”
    “Understood.” The slave bobbed his head
quickly and scurried away, much to Kor’s satisfaction.
    Maggie watched the slave go, clearly
confused by the whole episode.
    “What was that all about?” she
asked, turning to Kor.
    “This.” Without warning, he lifted her swiftly
into his arms and began the long walk up the Grand Promenade to the reception
desk.
    “Wait—what? What are you doing?” Maggie
demanded, but in a low voice, Kor was glad to note, since many avid eyes were
watching them eagerly.
    “Escorting you to the reception desk,” he
answered matter-of-factly.
    “But you don’t have to carry me,”
she protested.
    “Yes, I do. That’s the whole meaning of
escorting you to the desk. It’s the tradition here at the spa,” Kor explained. “A
mistress who doesn’t have a slave strong enough to carry her at least most of
the way to Reception is scorned and laughed at by the other patrons.”
    But Maggie continued to protest.
    “You don’t know how many cupcakes I’ve
eaten lately—I’m way too heavy.”
    Kor burst out laughing. “What? You’re
light as a feather, blondie. I could carry you all day.” He frowned. “And what
the hell are cupcakes?”
    “Little tiny cakes that have crazy amounts
of fat and sugar and carbs.” Maggie sighed. “Seriously though, you don’t have
to pretend I’m light. I nearly broke poor Jonas’s back on the way from my ship
to the chasm.”
    “That skinny little slave.” Kor didn’t
even try to keep the scorn out of his voice. “He probably couldn’t lift a
child. His weakness is no reflection on you.”
    “Oh, well…” Maggie seemed somewhat
mollified. “I guess I never thought of it like that. But you know, he can’t
help being skinny and I can help being…uh, not skinny if I would
just diet and exercise. And skinny guys aren’t all bad—my fiancé, Donald, is
pretty, uh, slender.”
    Kor frowned. “You keep bringing him up. You’ll
have to tell me more about this skinny weakling you’ve promised to join with
soon.”
    “Hey!” Maggie protested. “Donald’s not—”
But just then they arrived at the end of the Grand Promenade. At the far edge
of the pristine white carpet the reception desk loomed, a high, polished structure
made of solid black Korthinian marble. Two spa attendants—Sensorians, if their
milky white skin was any indication—sat behind the desk.
    “Yes, slave,” one said in a clear,
bell-like voice. “Whom have you brought to us?”
    “May I present Lady Pope’nose,” Kor said
clearly. He set his lady gently on her feet before the desk and then took a
step back and bowed his head. Now it was up to Maggie.
    * * * * *
    Maggie wasn’t sure what to do.
    “Um, hello?” she said uncertainly, looking
up at the strange beings staring down at her from behind the black, shiny desk.
“I’m here to check in?”
    “Very good, Lady Pope’nose,” the one who
had spoken first said. “You are expected.”
    “And may we congratulate you on a very
fine entrance,” the second continued smoothly. “It will surely be recorded in
the annals for future contemplation.”
    “Oh, thank you, I guess.” Maggie smiled at
them.
    At least, unlike the Sporran chauffeur,
the desk attendants looked vaguely humanoid in the face. Their skin, however,
was a strange milky white and both had long, white, tentacle-like hair which
waved gently around their narrow heads like seaweed in some underwater current
only they could feel. Their eyes were large, perfect ovals, the palest
imaginable shade of pink with light blue stripes. They reminded Maggie
strangely of Easter eggs.
    The first attendant nodded at her. “Your
room is prepared and your