Read Online About Sisterland by Martina Devlin - Free Book Online Page B

looked towards the space. Inside it was dim. Was that the sound of someone breathing?
    The Mating Mother extended the hand holding the key towards the gap, indicating that Constance should advance.
    “You’re not going to lock me in with him?”
    “I’m afraid we must. It’s to keep him in. Don’t worry, you’ll be perfectly safe – all our meets are trained, and help is never far away. Charity and her helpers are extremely capable. There’s no situation in a mating cube they haven’t had to deal with, at one time or another. Remember, you’re free to go whenever you like. Otherwise, we’ll leave you here with the meet for two hours. That’s easily long enough. Oh, one final instruction. Under no circumstances must you ever remove your skin.”
    “Why not?”
    “It’s for your own protection: it helps you retain control. Now, the hopes of Sisterland go with you. Be fertile.”
    Under the implacable sweetness of her smile, Constance entered the room. The door was pulled shut behind her, and she heard metal grind on metal as the key turned in the lock.

Chapter 7

    A nightlight drilled into the wall just inside the door kept the room from darkness. Constance could discern the outline of another human standing in a corner. Her eyes flicked round the cube. She was expecting it to be compact, as suggested by its name. It was also utilitarian, its only furniture a standard-issue pop-up bed. She was relieved to notice it was temperature-controlled – otherwise, such a confined space would be claustrophobic. Predictably, it was windowless. A check back towards the door reassured Constance that there was no peephole – at least, not one she could make out.
    Her gaze returned to the figure diagonally opposite. Its shape was neither particularly tall nor broad. The posture suggested tension. When her eyes grew accustomed to the gloom, she realised the meet had his hands crossed in front of his chest, and his back pressed into the corner where two walls intersected. Boxed in.
    She moved a few paces closer. He cocked his head, listening. She noticed he wasn’t wearing a hood, which meant his hair was visible. This was the first unhooded man she’d seen. More of his face was exposed than she was accustomed to, yet there was something hidden about it. Oh, he was wearing a blindfold.
    No wonder his position was so defensive. Still, it allowed her to study him openly. Now she stood in front of him. Why, he was naked to the waist, his chest hairless like a woman’s. He breathed in – was he smelling her? The movement caused a minor tremble through her flesh. Unexpectedly, a desire to reach out her hand and touch that skin shivered through her. This must be what was meant by the mating urge.
    His unsure air gave her confidence. She slipped the alarm into her pocket, and reached up towards the blindfold. He flinched.
    “I’m not going to hurt you. I just want to take this off. It doesn’t seem right that I can see you and you can’t see me.” She pulled, but the strip of material didn’t budge. “Turn round.”
    A momentary hesitation before he obeyed her. She tugged at the knot, but could make no headway with it. As she pulled, her fingers brushed against his hair, and she noticed its texture was sleek. The nerve endings on her fingers liked how it felt, but he didn’t seem to enjoy her touch. There was an infinitesimal resistance.
    His hair was paler than she had supposed was possible. It appeared to be blond. She was taught the colour had all but vanished from the gene pool. A man wouldn’t have access to hair technicians – it had to be natural. Longer than hers, it parted in the middle and fell in two waves along his cheeks as far as his collarbone.
    He must think she was pawing at him. Her hand fell away from the blindfold.
    “Do you always wear your hair down?” she asked.
    Nothing.
    “Maybe all men wear their hair like that? The hood covers it, so I wouldn’t know.”
    Still nothing. She wondered if he