Free Calder by Allyson James Page A

that had been trained on Calder went out, and he disappeared into deep shadow.
    Katarina ran forward, reaching for him, but found nothing but another seamless black wall. Calder had used the tricks of his lair to elude her yet again.
    “Too late, he already is a stupid fuck,” Braden said.
    Katarina shivered, suddenly bereft. Calder was gone.

She turned to find Braden next to her, stark-naked. His body was perfectly formed, his black hair flowing over well-muscled shoulders, his eyes intense Shareem blue.
    She’d touched this man, taken him into her mouth.
    And yet she didn’t respond to him like she did to Calder, not even when he put his arm around her.
    “My clothes are wet,” Katarina said, biting her lip against the tears that filled her eyes. She couldn’t leave in wet clothes. How stupid that this practical detail made her cry.
    “It’s all right. He keeps spares.”
    Braden’s voice was comforting but what he said made Katarina’s tears spill out.
    Foolish Katarina. Of course she was only one of dozens of women who’d fallen under Calder’s spell. What made her think she’d be special to him?
    “Poor sweetie.” Braden pulled her against his warm, wet body, stroking her hair.
    “Forget about him, love. It’s the best way.”
    Damn it, why was Braden so nice ? He was a Shareem, a being meant to be shunned, a man who lived for only one thing.
    Here he was, naked and aroused, comforting her because his friend had rejected her. And all Katarina could do was cry on him.
    *
    Katarina tried to take Braden’s advice and forget about Calder. After all, she’d lived twenty-seven years without knowing the man existed. She could return to life before Calder and continue her job.
    Calder would likely find a different clinic for his next six-month checkup, and she’d never see him again. Shareem could go to any clinic because information on their scans and inoculations was fed from the medic’s handheld to the centralized Ministry of Non-Human Life Forms computer. It didn’t matter which clinic did the actual checkup.

The practical side of Katarina’s mind told her that. But every time a Shareem entered the clinic, her heart beat wildly in hope.
    Braden had spread the word that Dr. Katarina d’Arnal was a medic nice to Shareem, and so Shareem had started coming to her.
    Katarina seemed to have a Shareem in every week. Some came for their six-month scans and inoculations, but some returned for her to treat their every minor cut, scrape and bruise. When she pointed out that Shareem were amazingly healthy and didn’t need much medical attention, they said they came because they liked playing doctor with her. They’d laugh—charming, seductive laughter.
    Katarina found that she liked their attention. She met level ones, who smiled lazily and turned every medical exam into a striptease. Level twos liked to tell crude jokes and promise a night of unforgettable fun if she would just come out with them.
    Level threes confused her a bit. They didn’t tease and they weren’t playful. They told her, blatantly, what they envisioned doing with her, not caring when she squirmed.
    She would smile and turn down the offers from all of them. She wondered at herself, knowing she could have night after night of amazing sexual experiences. And foolish Katarina only craved Calder.
    Katarina never saw him. Calder didn’t come in, she never saw him when she walked from her flat to the clinic, and she didn’t see him when she purposely lingered in the market near his warehouse.
    She’d ask the other Shareem, casually, if they’d spoken to him, but they always said they hadn’t. Some of them had never even met him, although they’d heard of him and his pleasure palace.
    Katarina also met a few women who’d become the permanent lovers of Shareem.
    Two Shareem, a level one called Aiden and a level three called Ky, visited for their six-month at the same time, accompanied by a lovely young woman.

“I have to come in