by Autumn Dawn
Dagon stiffened. Before he spoke, he made himself think. She hadn't been this way yesterday. Yesterday Kynan had brought that woman. He'd bet a fortune that they'd been up all night, talking. Apparently, about him.
He made the mistake of saying so. “Where is your friend, the traitor?"
Bristling like a wild animal with threatened young, Vana snapped, “Don't you touch her! It's not her fault that you have no feelings for me."
Carefully, he ground out through a stiff jaw, “I have feelings for you."
"You don't love me!"
His mood got blacker. What did she expect him to say to that? “You'll be my queen, won't you? You'll have my honor, my fidelity—"
"But not your love."
The broken way she said it made his heart twist. “You don't know what time will bring."
She turned her back to him. “I want to go home."
A soft growl rumbled from the back of his throat. “Guards!” he shouted, louder than needed. “Take the lady back to her room. And bring me Kynan!” He had some choice words to say to his good friend.
* * * *
Kynan blinked at him. “You seem to have a problem."
Dagon sent him a murderous look.
He sighed. “I couldn't leave her there, man. She threatened to come back with others. You've said yourself that the operation is closing down now. We're drawing too much interest."
"That doesn't solve my immediate problem,” Dagon said coldly, with a commanding stare.
Kynan half-smiled. “I'll take your problem in hand, then. At least she has spirit. I was beginning to wonder if you'd found the only woman who had any."
"Just get the woman under control before I have her gagged and sent to Nikon. And keep her away from Vana! I'll have enough trouble bringing her out of her snit without her ‘friend’ undoing my efforts."
Kynan regarded him thoughtfully. “It's possible she would have been less susceptible to damage if you'd courted her more. This might even be an opportunity to cement her affection."
"I don't need advice on how to win my own woman."
"As you wish.” Kynan shrugged and made for the door. “You have my best wishes, just the same."
* * * *
"I say we take a hostage. It's the only way."
Vana listened to Kelsa talk and kept her mouth shut. The other women in the harem, those known as troublemakers by the Beasts, hadn't wanted to include Vana in their talks, but Kelsa was a fast talker. She'd insisted that Dagon's interest in Vana was not returned. The others had recognized a fellow malcontent when they saw one and grudgingly accepted.
Cherry, the most persistent griper, scowled. “How do you suggest we do that? They're twice our size and armed to the teeth."
Clarissa, the chief troublemaker, shot Cherry a quelling stare. “So we don't tell them we're going to do it. Anybody can be taken by surprise."
"Have you seen them work out?” Vana said slowly, not liking this plan for reasons she didn't care to dwell on. “They're dangerous, and fast. Experienced too, since they've been making war on Nikon and his bunch for a long time. It won't be easy."
Clearly unwilling to take anything Vana had to say as gospel, Clarissa stared her displeasure. “We can do anything we put our minds to. There are men wandering in here all the time. All we have to do is grab one when there aren't others around to help. Then we tie him up and use him to get out of here."
Barely resisting the urge to roll her eyes, Vana looked away. They didn't need her to jinx their work; with plans like that they'd fail on their own. She frowned at herself as she realized what she'd been thinking. When had she switched sides? For while she wouldn't betray these women's plans—what passed for plans, anyway—she didn't want to help them escape, either. Had she really come to feel that the Beast's world offered so much?
It dawned on her that she didn't want to leave. True, Dagon hadn't exactly courted her, but her instincts said he felt something for her. That had to count for something. Maybe she should talk to him, give him another chance—
"Stop mooning!” Kelsa hissed in her ear. “He's no good for you. We'll go home and find you a nice construction worker."
Vana gave her the evil eye. She didn't want a construction worker!
Kelsa frowned at her, and then addressed her cohorts. “Look, I'll be back later. I've got something to do.” She took Vana's arm and half dragged her out of the room. “You need something constructive to do,” she said with a worried look. “Didn't you tell me that creepy Dagon had given you a lab to work in? Weren't you supposed to fix his women's fertility?"
"He's not creepy,” Vana answered testily, even as Kelsa steered her toward the lab she'd showed her.
Shivering, Kelsa shook her head. “Gave me the creeps. How can you stand that scar? It makes him look like some convict from death row."
That earned her a black look. “He's good looking and you know it."
"To each her own.” They arrived at the lab and Kelsa opened the door. “Now be a good girl and go save the world while I deal with the other things. You know you're dying to outsmart that bonehead medic. Besides, I know how you are. Once you've got a book in front of you, you don't see anything else. It'll be good for you, get your mind off what ails you."
Vana favored her with a droll look, but entered the lab.
Relieved, Kelsa ignored her guards and turned back toward the harem. While she loved Vana like a sister, she didn't need her lovesick friend queering the plans she was making with the others. She had a feeling that Vana would balk at some of the more nefarious measures they might use. For her own good, Vana needed to be otherwise occupied.
Determined, Kelsa lengthened her stride, eager to get to the harem.
* * * *
Vana sat down at a computer terminal and began to read the translated texts on Beast fertility. She'd been over several copies of the history of the war and the fertility virus and was working her way through gestation and health texts in her spare time, putting together the puzzle pieces of who, what, where and how. It wasn't bugs, but it fascinated her all the same.
Due to the enormous volume of research on the issue, she did a lot of skimming. The Beasts had tackled their problem from several interesting angles, but she had the feeling they were making it too difficult. She was reminded of scurvy and pellagra, two deadly diseases from Earth's past that turned out to be simple deficiency diseases. The doctors at the time had been stumped, trying all kinds of dangerous medicines to cure what had turned out to be curable by a simple change of diet. The papers looking into that subject were scanty to non-existent, so that was where she focused her efforts.
Kelsa had been right—Vana never noticed the passage of time when she was taking notes and dissecting a mystery. She ignored her belly's grumbling for lunch, more interested in the pictures of the virus and scans of dead eggs. It wasn't until Dagon knocked on the door and entered that she realized it was past dinner.
Still in a fog, she blinked at him. “Yes?"
His expression was inscrutable. “You missed dinner."
She glanced at her wrist unit. “Hm."
Annoyance crossed his face. “Why didn't you have something sent to you?"
Assuming he knew that the same way he knew everything she did, she shrugged. “I was busy."
His sigh was half growl. “Come and eat, then.” He glanced at her computer screen and raised a brow. “Your research isn't urgent."
Now that ticked her off. Flicking off the computer, she rose and said acidly: “How is it you automatically assume that what I'm doing isn't important? Just because you don't care, it doesn't mean that I don't.” He was in her way, so she moved around him to the door.
Silence radiated behind her, but he followed. Once in the hall, she noticed that he'd dismissed her guards. Pity she couldn't do the same. “Has it occurred to you that we might not be immune to this little virus of yours? What happens if someone decides to drop a canister full of it into the harem, for example? It w
ould kind of ruin your little plan."
"No one would be that stupid,” he said with such savagery that she checked. While she stared at him, he went on in the same chilling tone, “You are carefully guarded for just that reason. Anyone who tried such a thing would die a painful death.” He took a deep breath and looked ahead as he started walking. “Besides, no one from the other side would risk it, either. I'm more worried about Nikon staging a raid."
Reluctant to prod his temper, she nonetheless said, “I think I'll complete my research anyway. Just for my peace of mind.” She recognized their hallway and was surprised when he passed her room and opened the door to his. “What's this? Didn't you eat?"
"I'll keep you company.” He remained where he was until she warily entered, then he shut the door.
Vana eyed it. “Isn't that against the rules?"
"I doubt anyone will break it down,” he answered with a faintly challenging air. “You can always scream if I try to eat you."
Rolling her eyes, she followed his silent invitation and sat down at his low table. While he reclined, she filled her plate and tried to ignore the silence. He was going to talk. Being fair minded, she'd listen and try to ignore the tension between them.
"Tell me about your mother. What was she like?"
Surprised at his opening question, she answered easily enough. “She was quiet. Loved to sing and cook. She made the best lasagna ... I could never eat enough.” Slowly, he drew her out, asking what her childhood was like, how she'd liked school, what her favorite things were. After a while she turned the questions around, probing into his past.
He made light of it. “I had my father and brothers. We played sports when they were home and exchanged war stories. I was happy enough."
She ran a finger over the polished wood of his table. “But your life wasn't perfect, for all you became king."
Dagon propped his head on his fist. “No one's life is perfect. I'm hopeful of the future, however.” Left unspoken was his expectation that she would be in it.
"Are you in love, Dagon?” A risky question, but one she needed an answer to.
"You'll notice there's a shortage of women around here. I haven't much practice with the emotion,” he said mildly. “If you're asking if I'll be faithful, the answer is yes. You'll not be mistreated and I will provide for you, as you have seen. I may not always grant your desires, but I will consider your wishes before making decisions that affect us both. Is that not fair?"
Very fair ... if they were talking about a business deal. “I think you know what I'm looking for,” she said slowly, searching his expression for a clue to his thoughts.
Determination glowed in his eyes as he rose and joined her on her side of the table. Dropping down to the cushions, he considered her lips. “I can promise passion, if that's a concern.” He took her lips leisurely, like one familiar with the terrain and sure of his welcome. A slow burn spread through their veins, fanned at his command. “My desire will never die."
She inched back, trying to breathe. “All desire dies if it is not fed with tenderness. I could have had raw passion before if that's all I needed."
"So could have I. Your sister Earth girls are easy with their bodies. It was offered. I declined. I told you once that I desire only one woman—one who wants only me.” He stroked her throat with the backs of his fingers and lowered his head. “Be that woman.” Claiming her mouth, he kissed her until her wits had flown and her will melted. How could she resist such a tender invitation? Such a hot demand....
Trying one more time, she pushed him back, managing to clear a bare three inches of space between them. “I want love first."
Closing his eyes like a man in pain, Dagon flopped down on his back. “Impossible wench.” He waved an imperious hand in clear dismissal.
Vana couldn't help but grin, though she was smart enough not to let him see it. She stood up. “If it helps, I'm halfway there already,” she said, in charity with her adversary.
His hand shot out and gripped her ankle. Half indignant, half desperate, he demanded, “Then why are we having this conversation?"
"Because you're not ... halfway there, that is.” She shook him off and left, his heartfelt groan sounding behind her.
Closing his eyes, Dagon lay back and tried to clear his sluggish head. Desire made it difficult to think, and frustration wasn't helping. Did he love her? Who knew? He sure as thunder wanted her, if that counted for anything. Apparently it didn't, in her book. So how could he convince her that he cared? It galled him, but he needed a woman's advice. His mother was out, but who else did he know?
A thought made his eyes spark, and he rose up with sudden purpose. Perhaps Ser's wife would have the answer.
* * * *
Ser answered the door looking rumpled and sleepy eyed. Since it was still early in the evening, Dagon had a good suspicion why.
He didn't waste any time. Tight lipped, he demanded of Ser, “How do you make a woman fall in love with you?"
Blinking in confusion, Ser stepped back as Dagon entered his room. “Er, come again?"
"Who is it, Ser?” a husky voice came from the bedroom. Jen appeared, wearing her wedding robe and looking decidedly mussed.
Uncomfortably reminded of what he'd like to be doing, Dagon asked her gruffly, “How did you know Ser loved you?"
Bewilderment creased her brow as she looked helplessly at Ser. With a sigh, he closed the door and joined his wife, wrapping an arm around her as they sat on the couch. “He's having woman trouble, my love."
"Oh. I like Vana,” Jen said mildly.
Irked at the way Ser was toying with Jen's hair, Dagon took a seat, saying impatiently, “Yes, we all like her. But how do I make her my wife?"
Though he'd been busy about his husbandly duties and therefore out of the information loop, Ser had a good idea of what he was talking about. “Chase her around. Spend time with her."
"I have duties,” Dagon reminded him. “I cannot spend every hour of the day with her.” He looked at Jen, snuggled by his best friend's side. “Why did you marry Ser?"
Delicate pink stained her fair cheeks. “I loved him, Tzar. He made me feel special."
"How?"
She looked softly at Ser, who kissed her hair. “He spent time with me, made me feel special. I knew he would take care of me."
"She knows I would protect her,” Dagon counted, mulling over the rest of Jen's words.
"It takes more than that,” Jen insisted. “She needs to feel that you will only do those things for her. She doesn't want to be qualified to be your wife.” She frowned at Ser as if reliving an old discussion. “She wants to be special, as if you'd choose her over the most beautiful women in the world."
Dagon raised a brow. “I have."
She huffed in exasperation. “Tzar...."
He raised a hand. “I understand. I can make her feel specially chosen. Thank you for your time. I'll leave you to your ... rest."
Jen blinked as the door closed behind him. “Is he always this abrupt?"
Leering, Ser leaned forward and nuzzled her neck. “I think he's uncomfortable knowing that I'm getting what he isn't."
"Ser!” her protest ended on a giggle, then a breathless moan. “Do you think he'll win her?"
A sexy laugh answered her as he laid her back against the couch. “He will if he makes her feel like this...."
* * * *
"The work day is over,” Dagon said as he entered Vana's lab. “Save your programs—I have dinner waiting."
Vana wasn't surprised. He'd sent lunch, too, along with the gift of a silver basin on an ornate wrought metal base. Enameled flowers decorated it and the silver pitcher that fit inside. It was lovely, if an odd gift. “Thank you for the present."
To her surprise, he winked. “I'll have it brought along so you can decide where to put it.” Guiding her with a light hand at the small of her back, he led her through the hallways and to a central courtyard she'd never seen. In the dusk of twilight, flower shaped l
amps on poles spouted flames, illuminating the fragrant hedges and fruit trees. A night bird sang softly in the trees, accompanying the tinkling fountain in front of a table for two. Diamonds of flame dotted the velvet black sky, lending atmosphere to the warm evening. A divan had been set up to one side, inviting an after-dinner nap before a tulip shaped fire box.
"Do you like it?"
Breathless, Vana smiled at him. “It's beautiful! I love it."
Pleasure lit his smile. “It's yours. This will be your private sanctuary from now on.” He stroked her cheek with the backs of his fingers. “I'm pleased you like it."
"You're giving me a garden?” How novel, and incredibly touching that he'd gone to all the trouble. Maybe there was a soft spot in him after all. “I don't know what to say. Thank you."
"It was all I hoped for,” he said smoothly, leading her to the table. He pulled out her chair, then took his seat as a servant poured drinks and another set a tray of spiced meat aflame. Vana laughed in delight and gladly accepted a serving of the still sizzling dish.
"Oh, this is good. I think you're trying to make me tipsy,” she commented, trying a sip of the alcoholic slushy. “Is the fruit salad spiked, too?"
Dagon laughed. “There are more efficient ways to intoxicate you, if that's what I wished.” He looked meaningfully at her lips.
She wagged a finger at him. “That would be cheating."
"This is one realm where I write my own rules,” he countered, offering her bite of nut crusted seafood. When her eyes widened in surprised delight, he said, “It's made from the same nut that makes adoc. I thought you'd like it."
"You thought right. Thank you."
He regarded her thoughtfully. “Do you remember your words regarding judging women by a trial of peers?"
"Yes. Somebody needs to. You can't let them just get away with murder."
"I thought you'd feel that way. That's why I've appointed a new women's justice—you."
"What!"
"Who is better qualified? You're well educated, compassionate and level-headed. It's a position well suited to a future Tzara."
His theory had so many holes in it that she hardly knew where to start. “I'm not your Tzara!"