Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 79603 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79603 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Imani shrieked herself and dropped the knife, which clattered onto the tray. This outburst caused J’are to look at her anxiously, as though wondering if she was all right. Imani was sorry she’d scared him, but she was scared too—scared of the crazy food the Luxx served. Was all Yonnite food this awful? If so, why hadn’t Kat warned her and packed her about two dozen protein bars for just this kind of contingency?
“I give up!” she exclaimed at last, taking a step away from the table and throwing up her hands. “I guess I’ll be fasting while I’m here.”
Which wasn’t a great idea, since extreme dieting gave her a headache that wouldn’t quit and made it hard to think. Imani knew that from hard personal experience, when she’d tried desperately to lose weight to impress a guy she liked in college. After days of headaches and dizziness with no results, she’d realized she would just have to make peace with her curves.
But right now, it seemed like maybe she was going to be losing weight the hard way—because there was nothing to eat that wasn’t disgusting or still alive or both on this freaking planet!
“You…don’t like food?” J’are, who had been watching her closely as she uncovered the various dishes asked.
“No, I don’t like the food! I don’t want to eat anything that’s staring at me or smells like rotten meat and old socks. And I especially don’t want to eat something that screams and bleeds when I cut it because it’s still alive!”
Imani sighed and ran a hand over her braids, trying to get a grip on herself. She looked up apologetically at J’are, who was watching her with wide eyes.
“Sorry—I didn’t mean to snap at you. It’s just…this isn’t the kind of thing I’m used to at all. I mean, I’m not opposed to trying new things, just not things that scream when I try to take a bite,” she added, looking mistrustfully at the “cheese” tray, where most of the wedges were now clumped together at one end as though they were trying to keep each other safe.
“You don’t like…fancy food?” J’are seemed to be struggling to get to the idea he was trying to express. Maybe he was still fighting his feral side, Imani speculated.
“No.” She sighed. “Not even back on Earth—my own planet. I’ve never been much for caviar or truffles or anything boushie like that. I like something simple, without too many ingredients.” She thought longingly of her grandma’s sweet potato pie and sighed.
“You like…fruit?” J’are asked. He lifted one of the discarded golden domes and indicated the complimentary fruit basket that Imani had forgotten about. “Simple,” he pointed out. “Not many…ingredients.”
“Oh, you’re right!” Imani exclaimed. “Thank you, J’are! I forgot all about that. Now, let me see…”
She selected a small pink fruit about the size of a kiwi with tiny blue dots and took a nibble. To her relief, it tasted normal. Well, if not exactly normal, then at least good. It was sweet and tart and had notes of watermelon, lime, and strangely, buttered toast. But somehow the flavors worked together and Imani was happy to finish the fruit right down it its three, round, bright green seeds.
After that, she tried something that looked like a large, purple banana. It had a thick, crunchy texture that reminded her more of a macadamia nut than a fruit, but since she liked macadamia nuts, that was fine with Imani. The purple banana was slightly salty as well as sweet and very filling. By the time she’d finished it, she felt satisfied.
“Ahh,” she sighed, wiping her mouth and fingers on a gold brocade napkin. “Well, I guess I’m going Vegan while I’m here—or maybe Fruitarian. But at least now I know what to order—thank you, J’are.”
The big Kindred smiled at her. He had been sampling some of the other dishes, though thankfully not the screaming, bleeding “cheese,” and he seemed satisfied as well.
Do you actually like all that?” Imani asked. “Because there’s plenty more fruit if you want some.” She nodded at the still mostly full basket which still held a wide variety of exotic looking fruit.
J’are shrugged, his tattoo-like markings flowing with the motion.
“Fancy food not best—but better than in the hole.”
Imani wondered again what awful things had happened to him in the Yonnite prison. Would he ever come all the way out of his feral state so she could ask him? Or was this as far out of it as he got? Maybe he always talked like a caveman and that was just part of being a Nightwalker Kindred.
She had no idea but she did know she was horribly tired. It had been a long, long day and she just wanted to get a shower and some rest.
But that presented a problem.
She had promised Judge Thoughtgood that she wouldn’t leave J’are alone—not even to go into another room. So how was she going to take a shower and ask him to be in the bathroom with her while she did, without him getting the wrong idea?