Loving a Stranger

by Evangeline Anderson

  “Long walk,” Harryx remarked, breaking into her guilty thoughts.

  “Yes, my husband,” Nallah murmured. She hoped he wouldn’t be upset with her for the length of time it took to get home using the footways. She hadn’t asked him to walk with her but of course, that wouldn’t stop him from getting enraged with her if he decided it was her fault they weren’t home yet. “I will cook your favorite dinner as soon as we get home,” she added, hoping to defuse the situation.

  “Oh. Um, thank you.” He didn’t sound angry, Nallah thought. Just preoccupied.

  She was feeling preoccupied herself. They were approaching a part of the footway she always dreaded—a long stretch that ran through an alleyway between tall buildings. Most of the time the female footways ran directly along the main roads but in this instance, the engineers had apparently decided to divert the path because of the heavy flow of traffic. So while the well-lighted road continued on apace, the footway wound to the side and disappeared into the alley.

  This is where Gemmah was first punished, Nallah couldn’t help thinking, as she always did when she passed this way. She avoided it if she could but it was the fastest way home from the House of Healing and she was afraid that Harryx would get angry if his dinner was delayed much longer.

  As they entered the dark alley, she tried to take comfort from the fact that her husband was with her, but no comfort came. Harryx was a big male and hopefully a deterrent to the Punishment gangs who hung around this area but if it looked like there were too many males to take on at once, he might just leave her to her fate. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d heard of such a thing happening.

  It would be no great loss to Harryx—he was in the Inner Circle, after all. He could easily buy himself another wife. In fact, it was possible that he had come this way with her specifically to dispose of her and get himself a new bride. Men did such things from time to time when they were ready for a change.

  The dismal, frightening thoughts swirled around her head until dread constricted Nallah’s lungs and she could hardly breathe.

  What if he wants to get rid of me? What if he woke up and decided he’s tired of me? Maybe he wants a fresh start and that’s why he’s been so nice to me—to lure me out here and let the Punishment gangs take me.

  She was nearly ready to faint with fear by now but they were nearing the end of the alley and nothing had happened. Maybe the gangs weren’t out yet. Maybe they had moved on to other territory. Maybe she was just being foolish and scared for no reason.

  It’s all right, she tried to tell herself. Stop being so silly. There’s no one here to hurt you. Everything is going to be all r—

  And that was when a dark shadow stepped into the light at the narrow end of the alley.

  “Well, well,” said a deep, rough voice, hungry with lust. “What have we here? A woman in need of punishment?”

  Chapter Five

  Reeve didn’t like the dark alley one fucking bit. He wouldn’t have chosen to take it but this was the way Nallah led them. And since his host’s memory banks came up blank when he entered a query for “walking home” he felt he had no choice but to follow her.

  Still, when the big bastard stepped out in front of them and said something about punishing women, it was a nasty surprise. Reeve hadn’t expected to have to fight in his host’s body—especially without any weapons. But he was prepared to do what he had to. At least Harryx was big and reasonably strong.

  “Such a pretty little woman too,” the bastard at the end of the alley purred, eyeing Nallah who had shrunk back behind Reeve. “All ripe for punishment.”

  “Look, asshole,” Reeve growled, taking a step forward and thrusting out his chin aggressively. “I don’t know who you are but this is my wife. So fuck off before you have the worst night of your life.”

  The male drew back. In the dim glow from the end of the alley, Reeve saw surprise written on his lumpish face.

  “Your wife? Of course she’s your wife. Didn’t you bring her here for a punishment?”

  “I don’t know what you mean by ‘punishment,’” Reeve growled, although he was afraid he did. “But you touch one hair on her head and I swear by the Goddess I’ll end your fucking miserable existence for you right here.”

  Again the male looked shocked—although why he would be surprised that a husband would protect his wife, Reeve had no idea. He dropped back in confusion, freeing the mouth of the alley.

  Better get out of here while we have a chance.

  Reaching behind him, Reeve grabbed Nallah’s hand and pulled her around to his side—the side away from the lumpish thug who’d threatened them.

  “Come on, baby,” he muttered, keeping the other male pinned with a threatening glare. “Let’s go. Almost home.”

  The man drew back in confusion and Reeve saw there were several others behind him, standing just beyond the mouth of the alley. Gods, what had they planned—a gang rape? What kind of sick place was Hascion Five anyway?

  He gave the gang his best “don’t fuck with me” stare, keeping himself between them and Nallah, daring them to take him on. Seven against one—they would probably kill him if they all jumped him at once but he was damn sure going to take four or five of them with him on the way. For some reason though, they just stared at him until he and Nallah were out of sight.

  “Whew.” Reeve drew a deep breath as they came out onto a well lighted sidewalk next to a busy road where hovercars and trucks were whizzing past almost soundlessly. “That was fucking interesting, huh, sweetheart?” he remarked.

  Nallah didn’t answer and he realized her hand was trembling in his and she was taking deep, shaky breaths as though she was trying not to cry.

  Poor little female—she was probably scared to death! Can’t say I blame her.

  “Hey…hey.” Reeve stopped and turned to face her. Though she wasn’t really his female, he still felt responsible for comforting her. After all, his number one rule as a snatcher was not to fuck up anyone’s marriage, no matter what he might do to the other parts of their life. He had to care for her as her real husband would—it was only right. “You okay?” he asked her gently.

  “I…you…” Nallah seemed to be having trouble getting the words out.

  She was such a tiny little thing that Reeve had to crouch down to get a look at her face—or rather her veil. All he could see above it were her large golden eyes. They were shiny with unshed tears and her breath was hitching unevenly.

  “Hey, sweetheart,” he said, his heart touched by her obvious anxiety. “It’s all right. It’s all over now. They won’t bother us again.”

  “You…you didn’t give me to them.” Her words came out in a tight voice, as though she was still fighting not to cry. “You didn’t give me to them. I…I thought you would, my husband.”

  “What?” Reeve thought he must be hearing her wrong or maybe misunderstanding the Hascion language. But that couldn’t be right—when his soul overtook a host’s body, he had immediate access to their language and speech centers. It should be physically impossible for him to misunderstand her. “What did you say?” he asked. “Why would I give you to those bastards?”

  “I thought…” Her breath hitched again and she turned away so that her words were muffled. “I thought you might be…be tired of me.”

  “Tired of you?” Reeve could hardly believe what he was hearing. “So you thought I’d just give you away in a dark alley to some asshole? What would make you think that?”

  He couldn’t keep the incredulity out of his voice but his tone seemed to strike Nallah the wrong way. She fell to her knees in front of him.

  “Forgive me, my husband.” Her voice was low and raw. “Forgive me for misunderstanding you. Thank you for choosing to keep me by you. I swear you will not regret your decision.”

  “Of course I’ll keep you by me.” Reeve still felt bewildered. Was there some kind of cultural thing he wasn’t understanding here? Was it common for males to get tired of their mates on Hascion
Five and leave them to be raped and killed?

  Surely that couldn’t be—everything in him rebelled against the idea. He was a Kindred first and foremost and that meant respect and reverence for females. Also, once a Kindred warrior formed a bond with a female, they spent the rest of their lives together. The idea of abandoning a much beloved mate to a fate like the gang of thugs who had waited in the alley was unthinkable—unimaginable.

  I must be misunderstanding, he told himself. There’s no way this can be right. He needed more time to access his host’s memory banks and try to find out the cultural norms here on Hascion Five.

  “Forgive me,” Nallah whispered again and he realized she was still on her knees on the rough sidewalk.

  “It’s okay, sweetheart,” he said soothingly. “Everything is going to be okay.”

  Wanting to reassure her, Reeve reached out to brush a lock of hair out of her lovely eyes.

  “Oh!” Nallah flinched back violently, as though she thought he meant to strike her.

  Quickly, Reeve pulled back his hand and held up both palms in a non- threatening gesture. But her lovely eyes were still full of fear.

  What in the Seven Hells?

  He was beginning to get a bad feeling here—a very bad feeling. He’d seen this kind of reaction from females before when he jumped from body to body, culture to culture. It was the look of a female who had been hit and abused. What kind of a person was his host anyway? What kind of male was Harryx Parokk that his own wife feared him and thought he might leave her to be raped and killed in an alley?

  Not a very fucking nice one, I bet, Reeve thought grimly. Which probably meant he shouldn’t be very nice either. Not abusive exactly, but he should at least be cold and distant—anything else would arouse Nallah’s suspicions.

  But that frightened look in her large, golden eyes was more than he could bear. He couldn’t stand to have her fear him like this—didn’t want to treat her like dirt just because her husband apparently did.

  So instead of drawing away, he knelt down beside her on the sidewalk and took her gently by the shoulders.

  “Hey, it’s okay, sweetheart,” he murmured, rubbing her upper arms lightly. “Not gonna hurt you. Let’s just get home, okay?”

  “O…okay,” she whispered brokenly and drew a deep breath.

  Reeve wondered how she wasn’t crying right now. Not that he thought crying was a weak, female reaction but he recognized that emotions were closer to the surface for females than they were for males. And the fact that they’d nearly been attacked and she’d apparently expected to be raped and possibly killed should have elicited a stronger reaction. But though her eyes glittered with unshed tears, not a single one fell and she didn’t sob—not even once.

  “Come on,” he said. “Let’s get you up.”

  He got to his feet and, holding her gently under one arm, lifted her to a standing position. When she came up, he saw with a frown that she must have skinned her knees on the rough sidewalk. The thin fabric of her long white robes had two red splotches on it.

  “Hey—you hurt yourself.” He looked closer at the bloodstains but Nallah drew back uneasily.

  “It is nothing. I will wash my garments later,” she said quickly as though it was her robes that mattered.

  “Not worried about your clothes, sweetheart—I’m worried about you,” Reeve told her. He would have to tend to her wounded knees later. In the meantime, though, he couldn’t let her walk home hurt.

  Bending, he scooped her up into his arms, causing a muted gasp from Nallah.

  “Oh my husband,” she exclaimed. “What…what are you doing?”

  “Carrying you home,” Reeve said. “Just relax sweetheart. I’ll carry you back to the domicile…uh as soon as I figure out where it is.” He cleared his throat. “That knock I took on the head made some of my memories a little bit…fuzzy. So if you could point the way?” he asked hopefully.

  Mutely, Nallah pointed a finger down the long sidewalk. She still looked uncertain about being held by him. In fact, she was nearly as stiff as a board in his arms but it couldn’t be helped. If her husband had given her reason to fear him, there wasn’t much Reeve could do about it now—all he could do was take her home and tend to her wounds.

  “Okay, thanks,” he told her. “Let’s get going.”

  Getting her settled more comfortably in his arms, he began the last leg of their journey, hoping they would be back at Harryx’s domicile before too long.

  * * * * *

  Nallah couldn’t believe what was happening. First her worst nightmare had come true when the gang arrived looking to punish her. But what had happened next left her reeling with surprise.

  Not only had Harryx not left her alone for punishment and disposal at the hands of the gang, he had actually threatened the other males and declared that he would fight them if they tried to hurt her. She had never expected him to do anything like that for her—never. At most he might have growled that she was his property and he wasn’t through with her yet. But she’d never thought he would put her off limits so decisively—not as a piece of property but almost as if he…

  As if he cared for me, she thought, and immediately pushed the idea away. Harryx didn’t care for her. He had no interest in her other than as a cook, cleaner, and receptacle for his seed. He’d made that clear from the moment he bought her for his wife.

  So why is he acting this way? Protecting me? Being nice to me? Carrying me home because I hurt my knees?

  For the second time she wondered if the blow to the head he’d taken in battle had somehow changed him. Was that possible? He had said it had made some of his memories fuzzy. Was that the reason for his strange behavior? And if so, how long would this new attitude last? How long before whatever damage he’d taken to the brain healed itself and Harryx was back to his normal self?

  I can’t trust him, she thought, making certain to keep stiff and unyielding in his arms. He could change back at any moment.

  Or he might still be waiting to beat her when they got home. But somehow, Nallah didn’t think so. Harryx didn’t seem angry in any way. In fact, he seemed…almost gentle in a way he never had been before. It must have been the head injury that made him act so.

  Nallah just hoped this new gentleness would continue although she was dreadfully afraid it might fade away to be replaced by her husband’s usual rage at any moment.

  In the meantime, she held herself silent and still, watching him from the corner of her eye as he carried her tirelessly home.

  Chapter Six

  Reeve had to set her down in order to unlock the front door—it required both his handprints pressed to the black liquid metal surface of the security door to open.

  The moment he put Nallah down and the door snicked open, she was into the house like a shot.

  “Hey—” He wanted to stop her—to have a look at her wounded knees. But she only said something about making his supper quickly and was gone.

  Well, hell. Have to deal with it later.

  In the meantime, he was tired. It had been a long walk from the House of Healing—several hours at least—and though his host body was strong, it clearly wasn’t used to walking long distances. Nallah must be though—did she have to walk everywhere, he wondered. Was that another cultural norm here—that females weren’t allowed on public transportation so they walked wherever they went? That must be a pain in the ass.

  He tried typing “females” into Harryx’s memory banks and got back a list headed Females: Uses.

  Cooking, cleaning, fucking.

  Okay, so it was a very short list but was this really what his host thought of females? Had he no reverence for anything feminine at all?

  It appeared not. Bemused, Reeve wandered through the domicile, taking it in and trying to work out more about the male who lived here with Nallah.

  It wasn’t easy to find many clues. The entire place was furnished with low, sleek couches, rich carpets, and burnished wall glows, which seemed to indicate we
alth, but it was so neat it was almost bare. There were no little knickknacks or flowers or any feminine touches that might indicate a woman lived here. Indeed, there was only one holo-picture that Reeve could see, hanging in the corner of the living area.

  It was an image of an older man with a long white beard standing beside Harryx. The two men were shaking hands solemnly over some kind of document. In the background, like an afterthought, stood Nallah. She was wearing flowing red robes and her hair was done up in an elaborate knot at the top of her head. Her veil was as golden as her eyes.

  Reeve stepped closer, looking at a different angle to try and read the writing on the document. It appeared to be some kind of legal document and he caught the words “bride price” and “new owner” next to Harryx’s name.

  Sudden understanding broke over him.

  Holy shit—this is some kind of marriage contract! But not just a contract—a fucking bill of sale.

  The older man must be Nallah’s father and apparently he was selling her to Harryx for an agreed on price. This was their version of a joining ceremony. So Nallah had actually been bought and sold like a piece of property—that was fucked up. Seriously fucked up, as far as Reeve was concerned. What in the Seven Hells was wrong with these Hascions, anyway?

  “My husband?” Suddenly Nallah was standing before him. She had somehow found time to change into a new set of robes—light blue ones—and she was looking at him anxiously. “Your dinner is ready,” she said, bowing her head low when she saw she had caught his attention. “Please come and eat it whenever you like.”

  Reeve sniffed the air, smelling some foreign but delicious spice and his host’s stomach rumbled.