Blood Shadow

Author’s note:

In response to a review I had: I usually update once a month—but I have more than one story on the go. So just because a secondary story hasn’t been updated in a few months, doesn’t mean I’ve quit. I promise here and now to be honest if I intend to abandon a story I’ve started posting. For the record, there’s another two chapters of this one already written, and just requiring edits and revisions.

And to clarify - Jan isn’t the head scientist, she’s the head of security.


Blood Shadow

Chapter the Third: Cloistered Expectancy


Jan Kennedy accepted the cup of coffee that Arde ‘Coradee held out to her and wondered when having an Elite in her home had become situation normal.

Arde ‘Coradee was a surprisingly pleasant houseguest. He had adapted quickly to life in the cabin, and though she had been wary of leaving him there alone, her fears had turned out to be unfounded. The Sangheili had not run away, nor had he gone on a murderous rampage against the people in the little village several miles away, nor had he trashed the place. He appeared to like the wilds of the forest, but he seemed to have no interest in human civilization beyond the cabin he now called home.

He had asked her to teach him how to use household tools: how to run a dishwasher, how to use a broom, how to cook food. He had a few challenges thanks to having only one hand, but for the most part he adapted admirably quickly. She kept expecting him to balk at the menial nature of some of the tasks—she knew that Elites kept Grunts to do their dirty work—but Arde made no complaint.

So when Jan’s work contract had finally ended and she had come to the cabin to begin her retirement, she had found a clean house, a fire in the fireplace, a dinner cooking on the stove…and a headless deer hanging from the tree in her front yard.

At her request, Arde kept his hunting trophies in the back yard from then on, and they still had a freezer half-full of venison.

The deer incident had given Jan a reminder of how dangerous the Sangheili could be. It was possible Arde had taken one of her guns out of her safe and replaced it, but she could not find any missing bullets, and she privately doubted that the Elite had cracked the combination to the safe. Jan had also not found any bullets in the deer’s carcass. Her guess was that ‘Coradee had killed the animal bare-handed, and that was perhaps scarier than the idea of the Elite with a weapon. ‘Coradee could kill her just as easily, perhaps while she slept.

But he offered her no threat and there was no sign that he set foot in her bedroom, either. He skirted the door with careful reverance, as if he’d been told that the President was sound asleep inside. Jan was convinced the behaviour was some sort of Elite thing that was second nature to ‘Coradee even though it was a mystery to her.

‘Coradee had declined to sleep in the guest bedroom, preferring to lay in front of the fire with a series of sheepskin rugs below him and an old unzipped sleeping bag on top of him. She wondered if he wanted to stretch himself while he was sleeping—which would be difficult given his massive size and the tall wooden headboard and footboard on either end of the guest bed—or if he had some primal need to guard the fire. Regardless, once she became used to the sight of the large, plaid-sleeping-bag-covered lump in the middle of her living room floor, it really didn’t matter to her where the Elite slept.

Arde had sampled television and the Internet, and sometimes he and Jan watched movies together, but in the end, the Elite seemed to prefer books. He particularly liked military stories, though Jan felt somewhat uncomfortable at the idea of the Elite reading information about modern human weaponry. Instead, she provided him with historical information about Human combat, starting with the ancient Greeks and Romans, ending around the time of the Vietnam war. ‘Coradee had never questioned the missing two hundred years of more recent Human history. She also conceded to give him some science-fiction stories with military themes, and some modern thrillers that were so contrived that there was no way they could be considered realistic. He and Jan spent long nights in front of the fire talking about aspects of Human culture that he had read about in books and wished to understand.

He had also told Jan some stories about Sanghelios—about the people, the culture, what they did for fun, and their celebrated history. Jan noticed that, though she’d heard countless Sangheili legends and endless accounts of historical battles, ‘Coradee never once mentioned anything about himself. Where he’d come from, who he grieved for, what he had wanted to become.

She did not pry. She imagined it hurt him to think about it, and if he wished her to know, he would tell her.

Before she knew it, six months had passed by. At the end of that time, she’d come to consider Arde ‘Coradee as a variant of the family black sheep. It was as though she were providing room and board to a crackpot uncle who, despite his questionable past and chronic unemployment, was easy to live with—he was quiet, clean, well-mannered and could be very entertaining company. The Elite had a sly sense of humour and a deep laugh…

…it almost hid the hollowness in his eyes.

Almost, but not quite. There were times when Jan saw him sitting in silence, staring into the fire, and she wondered what he hid behind the carefully neutral expression on his face. Was he mourning his separation from his family on Sanghelios? Dreaming bloody fantasies of vengeance on those who’d tortured him? Lost and adrift, here on an alien world, with no purpose and no future beyond the life he currently led?

She did not ask, and he did not say. She had no inkling of what might lay underneath his “eccentric-old-relative” persona until the evening of her date with Frederick Morrison.

*

Frederick Morrison was her uncle’s friend and co-worker, a manager with a banking company. Having recently divorced his wife, he’d come to the area to stay in one of the local ski chalets while he re-evaluated his life. Uncle Bob was absolutely convinced that single women were miserable women and now that the war was over—now that Jan didn’t have to worry about becoming a war widow for the third time—it was time for Jan to date again.

Jan wasn’t entirely excited by the prospect, but she had to admit that she’d been spending a lot of her time in the cabin with Arde ‘Coradee and it would probably be good for her to have some human contact. There was also the fact that she’d gone a very long time without a sexual relationship, and though she wasn’t the type to have sex on the first date, if Frederick Morrison was at all interesting in that regard, she’d be a fool to turn him down. She was well past the age when she was able to trot down the sidewalk in a mini-skirt and turn men’s heads.

However, Jan thought as she looked at herself in the mirror, she still wasn’t too bad for forty-five. The black silk dress was cut close enough to be flattering, loose enough to be forgiving. Her work with the military had kept her slim, even if it was a hard, athletic leanness as opposed to supermodel-chic. She’d been in the bathroom for hours, chasing out the grey in her hair with dye, carefully applying makeup, wondering whether to hide the scar on her arm—the souvenir of a plasma burn from an encounter with a Jackal—under gloves or to simply leave it bare. In the end she’d decided that a man who’d dump her for a battle scar was a man not worth having. She slipped on a pair of stiletto heels and, as ready as she’d ever be, headed for the front door and the long drive into town.

But the way to the door was through the living room, and in front of Arde ‘Coradee.

The Elite was sitting on her couch reading, but as she passed by, he lowered his book and said, “What is the meaning of that truly ridiculous outfit?”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, Conrad.” She still called him Conrad when she wanted to tease him. “A simple you look nice would have sufficed.”

“But you do not look nice. You look foolish.” He seemed to be teasing too, or perhaps he was simply confused. “Those shoes, for example, seem very uncomfortable and highly impractical.”

“Then it’s a good thing I’m not going out with you.”

“Going out with me where?”

Jan picked up her purse. “It’s an expression. It means, going out on a date with.”

Arde’s book fell to the floor.

Kennedy looked at her watch. “I’m going to be late, Arde. It’s going to be a few hours before I get home. Have a nice night,” she said quickly as she dashed out the door, never thinking to look back over her shoulder at the person she was leaving behind.

*

Jan returned to the cabin a lot sooner than she’d expected to. Muttering to herself, she opened the front door.

Arde ‘Coradee was restlessly pacing the living room, making noises that sounded like growls and snarls, waving his arms about and thrashing his mandibles.

The sound of the front door closing stopped Arde rigid in his tracks. His head snapped around with lethal speed; he seemed to hunch over and bulk up as he flared his mandibles…

…then he sniffed the air, and his body was relaxing even as his eyes were focusing on her.

She realized, with a degree of pride, that he had mistaken her for a possible intruder and had been preparing to defend himself and his home. He was moving towards her now, but he was smiling, and she did not feel threatened by him—though for some reason he kept scenting the air. She could hear him inhaling loudly as he approached.

“Jan! You were not gone very long at all.” The Sangheili beamed.

“Tell me about it,” Jan muttered.as she kicked off the fabulous but uncomfortable stilettos.

The date had been a disaster. Her uncle’s friend might have been a great manager, but she found him boring and self-centered. Morrison spent most of dinner bragging about his accomplishments in mind-numbing detail. Eager to get out of there, she told him she was skipping dessert. He had replied that he, too, would much rather have “dessert” at his place, at which point she’d called him a pig and walked out.

“Was everything okay while I was gone?” she asked as she turned around to hang her purse on a hook on the wall.

She didn’t know how close the Elite was getting until she suddenly felt Arde’s hand gently stroking her stomach in a gesture that was shocking in its intimacy.

“How long until your young are hatched?” he rumbled into her ear.

Jan pulled away from him, stunned by both his words and his behaviour. “I’m not pregnant!”

“I thought…” Arde tilted his head. “Your “date” was not for breeding?”

“No! God!” She reminded herself that he was an alien, and his assumptions were not those of a human being, but…God! “I’m forty-five years old!”

“That is too old to have offspring?”

Jan sighed. “I suppose not necessarily…but no, I’m not trying to have a baby, Arde.”

The Elite tilted his head curiously. “But you have no children in this keep.” His eyes glanced over her wall. “And no photographs of children elsewhere.”

“I don’t have time to raise kids, and even if I did…” Jan closed her eyes, not wanting to go into this, not wanting to have to think about the reason her first husband had left her. Why had the asshole survived the war when her good husbands had both been killed? “I can’t have babies, Arde. Not even if I wanted to.”

The Elite nodded in silent understanding. He reached out his hand and clutched her forearm in what she thought might be a Sangheili gesture of comfort. She remembered his words in the truck—it seemed like so long ago—when he had told her that he was useless as a breeder. Yes. He did know how she felt.

He nudged her cheek with his muzzle. “Then I hope the sex was satisfying?”

Jan almost dropped her coffee mug.

“Arde!” she exclaimed.

The Elite peered at her curiously. “I fear I may have misunderstood completely. Is a “date” not an appointment for sex?”

“No!”

He tilted his head. “Then why does it require one male and one female?”

Jan folded her arms. “It’s supposed to be about getting to know someone well enough to decide whether or not you want to have a relationship with them.” She was shocked at how prim and prudish that sounded, but the idea of having to explain sexual concepts to the alien was an uncomfortable thought.

Arde shrugged. “This all seems needlessly complicated.”

“Let me guess. You just go up to someone who looks appealing and ask if they want to have sex with you.”

“Yes.” He folded his arms. “Unless they are underage, or married, or bonded, and as a general rule other males do not suit my tastes. I cannot distinguish your “date” from an evening out with a friend.”

“Well, Humans usually want to like the person they have sex with. So, they get to know them first, and sex comes later.”

“When?”

“When both people decide they want to.”

The Elite dropped his muzzle and sniffed at her chest. “Was it your date who did not want to?”

“I don’t think that’s any of your business,” she snapped, folding her arms over her breasts at his intrusive smelling, but her curiousity outweighed her irritation. “How would you even know what we did and didn’t do?”

“I do not smell him on you.”

Jan kept forgetting just how different his senses were from hers. How sensitive was that nose of his?

“No,” she said quietly, “it was me who didn’t want to.”

“How come?”

Jan rolled her eyes. “Because I don’t fuck on the first date, and because the guy was a pig.”

“He did not please you.”

“Yes, Arde, he did not please me. Now if you don’t mind, I’m going to get ready for bed.”

She stepped away from the Elite, walked to her bedroom and closed the door behind her.

*

Arde ‘Coradee tugged his blankets into position and tried to make sense of his thoughts.

He had been convinced that a “date” was like a session in the breeding chambers. Part of him had been looking forward to being an uncle to Jan’s young. They would be a fine little family here in the keep: himself and Jan and a child. It was a dangerous fiction, but he permitted himself to indulge it anyway, because it glossed over the darker emotion that tightened his throat whenever he thought of Jan breeding.

The revelation that Jan could not bear children evoked twin emotions. One was kinship, for he well understood the pain that came with the knowledge that you could not continue your own bloodline. The other spawned from that hidden emotion and it was rage. Rage at the Human male who trespassed on his little keep and took Jan away from him…

The knowledge that the Human had failed to please her filled him with a dark exultation. His victory was shadowed by the knowledge that there would be other humans in the future. Jan clearly sought this “romantic relationship” and she would “date” until she found it.

Would Jan become the consort of another human and go to live in his keep, leaving Arde here alone?

Arde found himself wishing for the first time that he was back on Sanghelios. There, it would not matter if he challenged Jan’s dates to duels. There it would not matter if he tore their heads from their bodies, or spilled their entrails into the dust…

There, it would not matter if the Blood Shadow ended their lives when they slept.

Here, though, he was far too aware that Jan would be most displeased with him if he were to kill any Humans. She had made herself clear: if she caught him killing, he would have to leave.

His mandibles folded into a smirk. He had been a SpecOps commander before, a living nightmare before that. He would not be caught.

But he would be a deceiver, and though he thought he had no honour, he had conscience enough to be disturbed by the notion of deceiving Jan.

So he curled himself into a ball and vowed to take one day at a time. Right now he would breathe deeply and close his eyes and…

Jan’s bedroom door opened. Arde’s head raised at the sound.

Then his eyes widened when he saw what she had on.

By the Ancestors…

Her date had not pleased her. Apparently she had decided that there was someone in this very keep who could.

Arde trembled.

He should not be thinking such thoughts about a Human. He should not find her so attractive in the breeding gown that fell to her mid-thighs. He should not be trembling with eagerness like a cadet on graduation day, thirsty to experience mating for the first time.

But he had been imprisoned and tortured and threatened with death and he had not seen a female of his own species in over five years.

Now, Jan, the female who shared a home with him…she had prepared herself to mate with him.

No matter what the Humans had done to him…

He would not disappoint her.