Page 8 of A Delicate Conquest
The bases of his horn-buds were a little less tender now. The suppressant was starting to work.
Good.
“You really think you can control it where all the others have failed? Think about it. The First Division. The commanders. The indomitable general himself…”
Mavrel shook his head. He closed his eyes and rubbed at his temple as his irritability slowly faded. “They are all used to taking whatever they want—to winning without compromise. And… they’re methodical and cunning. It’s little surprise their females fell for them with almost no resistance.”
Zharek inclined his head. “Believe me, it isn’t as straightforward as you’re making it out to be. You’re worried she’ll resist?”
“I’m worried that, in spite of our biology, she will be incompatible. Insufferable. Completely unsuited to life with one such as I. What am I supposed to do then, hm? Just…forceit… or die a painful death?”
“Don’t be so dramatic. You know that the Mating Fever goes both ways, don’t you? Your biological compatibility is genetically predetermined.”
“That isn’t a guarantee that we’ll get along. How am I supposed to elicit a female’s interest, let alone figure out how to keep her entertained and maintained, especially when it comes to the possibility of offspring?” Perhaps he would learn with time. Surely, there was a manual on this. Otherwise, he would have to try and catch the First Division guys and quiz them relentlessly.
He would only go into battle when he was prepared.
Maybe… in a few revolutions’ time.
“Although it seems far-fetched, I have reason to believe that personality is part of the equation,” Zharek said quietly. “That the Mating Fever itself is an elegant solution to the question of suitability. Think about it. Why haven’t there been any compatibility failures so far?”
“Becausethosemales aren’t the sort to take no for an answer. And for some reason, they know how to lure these females and please them. And forsomereason, human women appear to be drawn to certain… attributes.”
“Aha.” A devious glint entered Zharek’s eyes. “So you don’t believe that personality is genetically determined… or that it can change over time?”
“I don’t want to get into a complicated discussion with you right now, Zharek.” As much as Mavrel relished the opportunity to spar with Zharek, he didn’t like where this conversation was going. Besides, once he got going with Zharek, their debates could go on and on—to the point where they lost awareness of time.
“Then what’s to say that you wouldn’t find it easy to win her over? Thatyoudon’t possess all the attributes that she would look for in a mate?”
Mavrel glowered but kept silent. He wasn’t a warrior. He wasn’t the sort to seek conquest or to want to seize a prize at all costs.Hewasn’t the guy doing stupid things like jumping into the blazing sun or hurling oneself into the endless void of space without oxygen in order to save the Universe.
His easygoing facade hid his obsessive nature. He liked to be able to predict what would happen far ahead of time. He preferred to be the silent observer, tweaking things from behind the scenes, making a small adjustment here or there, deriving immense satisfaction when his calculations paid off and caused a ripple in the Universe.
He didn’t like too much noise, either.
Beatrice Maina was beautiful, smart, and impressively confident, but…
What if she turned out to be incessantly talkative?
“So, I take it you’ll be attending the Cultural Event, then?” Zharek retrieved a small device and tossed it to Mavrel, causing his hand to reflexively shoot out and catch the damn thing.
“I have no plans to attend.”
“Hm.” The devious glint in Zharek’s eyes did not intensify. In fact, his scheming expression made Mavrel even more uneasy. “Well, take this, anyway.”
Mavrel looked at the device in his hand. About the size of the tip of his thumb, it was small and black—a capsule of some sort. “What is it?”
“Nanites. If you aren’t ready to experience the full effects of the Mating Fever, ingest them before you meet her again. They’ll act on your olfactory system, inhibiting the effects of the pheromone activation. The downside is that you won’t be able to smell much.”
Unnecessary,Mavrel thought. There was no need for him to dull his senses because he wouldn’t be attending this so-calledCultural Event,which was undoubtedly the brainchild of the human mates.
Humans, apparently, loved a party.
He couldn’t think of anything worse.
Nor would he be going out of his way to meet her.
Notuntil he was ready.