The Daughters of Persephone, A Space Opera Special Edition

by Julia Barrett

  When she felt Kirrae’s blood chemistry approach normal, Tem pulled her hand away and helped the man to sit up. His head lolled forward.

  “How far to your compound?” Tem asked Issa.

  Issa looked around, gauging their location. “Two or three kigs east of here. We’ll have to walk. I’m not up for another shift.”

  Tem nodded and got to her feet. “Master Kirrae,” she said, tugging the flailing man to his feet. “We need to get moving. Can you walk?”

  The man wove a bit, but he kept his eyes open and attempted to stand straight. “Where am I?”

  “The planet, Calen. Four thousand years in your future.” Tem got a firm grip on the man’s arm. “Be grateful it’s not winter in these mountains.” She nodded her head at Issa. “Lead on. I’ll see this fool doesn’t fall behind.”

  Book IV: The Red Demon

  Aytan threw his head back and roared. “Where the hells am I?” His stomach had stopped churning and his brain was beginning to work again. He realized his feet had been moving forward for some time, but he had no idea where he was headed or why.

  “Keep your voice down,” ordered the woman walking next to him. “You’ll stampede every horse in the province.”

  Aytan planted his feet and stopped short. He turned and looked at her. “You? What am I doing with you? Where have you brought me?”

  The woman rolled her eyes. “I told you before when you landed on top of me. You are on the planet Calen, four thousand years in your future. And before you ask, no, I didn’t bring you here by design. You, Master Kirrae, happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

  Aytan gazed at his surroundings. Persephone possessed no such rugged mountains, nor was the sky of his planet such a vibrant blue or the grass so thick and green. The meadows of Persephone were golden beneath a big yellow sun.

  His eyes searched the horizon. The lowering sun of this world was a rich red ochre color, and the air felt cold and crisp in his lungs, the scents fertile, fecund and very fresh.

  The woman spoke again. What was her name? Tem. The Empress had called her Tem Bokinan.

  “I’ve come to aid my sister,” she said. “Her child is ill and we are headed to her compound. Unfortunately for both of us you are stuck here until I can return you.”

  When he opened his mouth to protest, she put a firm hand on his chest. “You must have entered my room just as Issa and I shifted. You were pulled along for the ride, Master Kirrae. Try to behave. Who knows? You might find an interesting horse or two. Come along.”

  The women plunged ahead through the forest.

  Striding on long legs, Aytan caught up. He studied each woman as they trekked. They did look like sisters. A long, thick plait of mahogany hair hung down the back of each, the hair of a blooded woman. Both possessed long lean bodies, but the one called Issa walked with the assertiveness of a woman trained in combat. The woman he knew as Tem moved with the grace of a Khalia dancer.

  “Why are we here?”

  “We?” Tem cast a glance over her shoulder. “You are here by accident. I am here because…” The other woman glanced in her direction and it seemed as if Tem tried to control her irritation with him. “My sister’s child is sick. I’ve come to help.”

  “The Empress spoke true.” Aytan was surprised at how level his voice sounded. “You are a demon.”

  “Yes. She told you the truth. I am called the Red Demon. But you have no need to fear me. If I wished it you would already be dead.”

  “Kane is close,” Issa interrupted. She broke into a trot. Aytan and Tem followed after her.

  Hearing the approaching hoof beats, Aytan’s head flew up. The enormous gray stallion bearing down upon them was magnificent. The rider sat well on the horse’s broad back. Aytan couldn’t have ridden better himself.

  A Kirrae. There was no mistaking the breed. Four thousand years in the future and here was living proof his stallion would breed true. Aytan’s mouth split wide in a grin as he watched the horse skid to a stop. The Horse Master marveled in the power of his legacy.

  The man dropped to the ground. “So you’ve come.”

  Aytan kept an ear open for Tem’s answer while he moved closer to the stallion. He laid a hand on the heavily muscled neck, feeling the pulse of blood beneath the skin. He understood very little of what was going on, but he was beginning to find his new circumstances quite intriguing.

  In a gentle voice, Tem answered, “I am not the monster you think I am.”

  “If that’s true then ride with me. We have no time to waste.”

  As Aytan watched, the man strode to the woman called Issa. His strong arms went around her and he kissed her on the lips. “I’ll take Tem on ahead.” His gaze fell on Aytan. “I don’t know who you are and I haven’t the time or energy to care just now. My woman will see that no harm comes to you.”

  Aytan bit back a sarcastic reply. He did not need a woman’s protection, but if a child was sick he understood the man’s need for haste. He nodded and stepped back as the man lifted Tem and threw her onto the stallions back, flinging himself up behind her. He turned the horse’s head and they galloped off, clods of loose soil flying from beneath the stallion’s hard hooves.

  “That’s one of my stallions,” he whispered, awed by the power of the horse.

  Issa nodded. “The horse is a Kirrae. My mate breeds them. You can see the line breeds true. You will succeed, Master Kirrae.”

  “Aytan, my name is Aytan.”

  Issa took his hand in hers and squeezed. He pretended not to notice the glint of tears in her eyes. “Come,” she said. “We have another kig to go and I must see to my son. Tem is the only one who can save his life. She is my last hope.”

  Aytan stood in the paddock, admiring the stallion. He heard the man walk up behind him, Issa’s mate, Kane Tirol. A flask of some fermented liquid was thrust into his hand. Aytan sniffed at it.

  “Homebrew,” said Kane. “We make it here.” He shrugged. “Time travel is thirsty work.”

  Up went Aytan’s eyebrows. “You’ve done it?”

  The man nodded. “Not my favorite means of travel. I’ll take a horse betwixt my legs any day.” Kane glanced back toward the cabin. Aytan knew his thoughts were on the two women in there with the child.

  “I’m sorry about your son.”

  When Kane didn’t respond, Aytan asked, “Can she help him?”

  “The Red Demon gives death and life,” the man said. He stared into Aytan’s eyes. “You haven’t a clue, do you?”

  “A clue about that woman? I’ve learned only recently she is more than she seems.” Aytan ran a hand along the stallion’s flank. “What do you call him?”

  “Bes. He’s a Kirrae.”

  Aytan hands roamed the horse’s broad chest and legs, assessing the muscles as they flexed beneath the smooth coat, feeling the sturdy bone structure. “I am Aytan Kirrae, the Empress Ya’s Master of the Horse.”

  At his words, Kane’s face relaxed and a corner of his mouth lifted in a half-smile. The man inclined his head. “It never occurred to me the day would arrive when Master Kirrae would stand in my paddock beside my own Kirrae, born and bred here on Calen. I regret that under the circumstances, I am in no mood to discuss horse flesh with you.”

  Aytan waved off the man’s apology. “It is of no consequence. The life of your son, on the other hand, is. I’m afraid I don’t understand. I don’t understand why the child is ill and how this woman, Tem, can heal him. I don’t know what the seven hells I’m doing here.” Aytan stuck a thumb around his leather belt. “For all I know, this entire experience is nothing more than a dream within a dream.” Aytan sipped the homebrew. “Not bad,” he said.

  “Does one taste in a dream?” asked Kane.

  The question caught Aytan off guard. “No,” he answered, considering. “I suppose not.”

  “Do you care for this woman?”

  Another question, asked abruptly, that caught him off guard.

  “I don’t know the wo
man; at least, I don’t know her as you do.” He described his encounter with her in the horse pasture and related his conversation with the Empress.

  Kane shook his head. “You laid hands on her and you lived to tell of it. That counts for something.”

  Aytan took another sip. He liked the brew better this time now that he thought it might be real. “What does it matter if I care for her?”

  The man stared into his eyes. He didn’t mince words. “If the Red Demon heals my son, and even if she doesn’t, she’ll need something.” Kane stared at the ground for just a moment. Lifting his head, he said, “She’ll need some help. Issa and I had agreed I would help Tem despite our past with her. But if you are willing to remain with her, to provide her with the assistance she’ll need to recover you would remove a great burden from me. I have pledged my body and soul to Issa, and that is a pledge I have no desire to break.”

  Aytan reconsidered. I must be dreaming. None of this makes sense. “What did she do to you? What past do you have with the demon?”

  “Tem bred and trained Issa to be like her, a giver of death and life. Issa sacrificed herself. She journeyed to the brink of death in order to bleed out those venomous qualities. The Red Demon intended me to be her own mate, but Issa and I chose another path. We are Blood Bonded for life. We hid ourselves from Tem lest she take our son and use him for her own purposes.” Kane crossed his arms and stared. “You really don’t know what these women are capable of, do you?”

  Aytan shook his head. “Haven’t a bloody clue.”

  Kane laid a heavy calloused hand on Aytan’s shoulder. “A friend once gave me a piece of advice. He said to me, these women are a law unto themselves. Love them, but stay the hells out of their way.”

  “I bear no love for Tem Bokinan.”

  “But are you willing to save her life? You may not have retained the memory, but she saved yours when you arrived here. Time travel in such a fashion will kill a normal man.”

  Aytan leaned against the fence, feeling almost drunk. If it wasn’t for the fact that a sick child seemed to be involved, the entire situation would be ridiculous. “Since you ask it of me, and since I am still not convinced any of this…” he waved a hand at the paddock, the horse and the distant mountains, “is real, my answer is yes. I’m willing to help her, although I don’t know what the hells you’re talking about.”

  The other man stood in silence for a moment, as if considering how much more to tell him. At last he spoke. “Thank you,” he said. “Come. We’ll wait inside. The sun has set and these high meadows grow very cold, even during the summer months.”

  Book IV: The Red Demon

  Tem stumbled out the door of the cabin. The sun had long since set and her lungs rebelled against the cold night air. She reminded herself she needed the cold. It would keep her awake. Tem wanted… Gods, she didn’t know what she wanted.

  You’re lying, you know what you want.

  She tugged at her tunic, pulling it away from her sweat-sticky skin. Even the lightweight material of her loose tunic and trousers suffocated her. Water, she needed water. Somewhere nearby was a river. There had to be. Tem could hear the rush and roar of rapidly flowing water. She followed the sound, tripping down the rough path, nearly blind with need.

  It had taken all her skill and much of her own blood to reach the infant at a molecular level, to search out and repair the damage to his DNA. A boy child born of a man and woman of the Blood, of such pure Blood, did not survive.

  Issa’s child would.

  This was the first time Tem had attempted such a delicate task. In the past she’d adjusted her own blood and manipulated the DNA of her children to make certain they would be female. She’d helped Issa adjust to rapid time travel on a number of occasions. But repairing strands of DNA so the child’s body could maintain cell integrity was, as she’d once heard said on Earth, a horse of a different color.

  Now Tem had no choice but to hole up somewhere and try to heal herself. A mere six months ago she would have demanded Kane assist her. In her heart she knew he’d set aside his reluctance and help if she asked it of him.

  She wouldn’t ask. He belonged with Issa and his son. Besides, there was the small matter of her pride to consider, even though death was on the line.

  Thank the gods for rocks. As she neared the river, the pain of the sharp edges against the bare soles of her feet entered her consciousness, keeping her awake.

  Rocks. River bank. Snowmelt.

  Tem plunged into the icy water, heedless of her own safety. Let the current take her, drag her down. She would live or she would die, tonight was as good a night as any. She gulped in the icy water, relishing its sharp taste, feeling the cold of death fill her body.

  A powerful arm wrapped around her waist and dragged her back towards the bank. Tem struggled against the man, trying to stay submerged as she prepared to receive her karmic payback for the evil she’d done in her short life, but her efforts proved futile. The spirit was willing, but the body weak.

  He dragged her from the river and lifted her into his arms, holding her so close Tem could feel the pounding of his heart against her own chest. Tem knew who held her. Two thoughts circled each other in her mind as she faded in and out of awareness.

  Seven hells no, not him. Oh my Gods, yes.

  Damn the woman. Did she have a death wish?

  He’d seen the way her legs shook beneath her when she’d walked right past him. She’d moved through the cottage like she was blind, deaf and dumb. He’d called her name, but she didn’t seem to hear. He’d flat out yelled her name as she fumbled her way into the woods. She’d ignored him, lost in some trancelike state. The woman kept on moving.

  He figured she’d have the brains to stop at the river, but no, she dove right in.

  What choice did he have? He dove in after her.

  Now that he’d wrestled her up the riverbank and held her in his arms, Aytan realized how close she was to death. Despite the dark night and the overhanging trees, he could see that all the color had drained from her face and neck, and her lips were dusky. There was no time to waste. He had to warm her.

  Aytan pressed her limp body tight against his chest. He might be soaked to the skin, but he knew his body gave off a lot of heat. He hoped that would be enough to keep her alive until he could find the closest shelter and remove her wet garments.

  Godsdamn, the woman felt like a block of ice in his arms.

  Kane Tirol had spoken true. Regardless of whether Tem had healed the boy or killed him, she did need help. He remembered the round feel of her bottom beneath his hand when he’d spanked her and his resulting physical response. Perhaps he was the right man to help her after all. Kane Tirol might call the woman a demon, but right now, she was no more dangerous than a new-born kitten.

  Through an opening in the trees, he spotted a large dark shape. It must be the storage shed. He’d noticed the building behind the barn when he’d been standing in the paddock, when he’d thought he was in the midst of a dream.

  The shock of the ice-cold river had made it very clear to him that this was no dream. He’d been carried along to the future, pulled to this wild cold green, mountainous planet where a man’s wealth was measured by the quality of his horse herds, and his own breed, the Kirrae, was prized above all else.

  There must be a larger reason for my presence.

  Aytan Kirrae believed things happened for a reason. Perhaps it was his destiny to save the life of a demon.

  Aytan shoved open the door to the shed. Kicking it closed behind him, he looked around for something to wrap her in. He spotted a neat stack of blankets piled against the far wall. He reached them in two strides.

  Balancing Tem’s limp body with one arm, he pulled several blankets out of the stack and tossed them onto the plank floor. He spread one open with his foot and lay her down, stripping off her soaked clothing. The woman whimpered, but she made no attempt to stop him. Her skin felt clammy beneath his hands. Aytan removed his boots and
his garments and lay down beside her, gathering her against his chest and wrapping them both in the other blankets.

  He knew what he had to do, Tirol had explained everything. She needed his blood and she needed his body or she would die.

  Despite the cold and the dip in the river, he was hard as a rock, exactly as before when he’d been this close to her. He didn’t know if it was the spicy scent of her skin or the fact that the woman in his arms was a beauty, but taking her would be no great hardship.

  Aytan rubbed his hands along her arms and legs in a vain attempt to warm her. Her breasts, with their peaked nipples pressed against his chest, tempting him, but he wanted her awake and aware. He did not take women unless they were willing.

  “Tem,” he whispered. “Tem, woman, open your eyes. You’re safe. I’ve got you. Open your eyes and let me help you.”

  Her eyelids fluttered and she said something, but he couldn’t make out her words. Light fingers floated up his arm. “A knife,” she murmured. He could barely hear her. “You need a knife to cut me,” she said, louder this time, her mouth against his shoulder.

  Thanks to Kane’s explanation Aytan knew what she meant. He freed a hand and reached for his knife. The suede sheath was soaked and he had a difficult time removing the blade, but at last he held it in his hand.

  “I’ve had many women,” Aytan muttered. “But never like this. Hold the knife steady and slice her palm, that’s what Tirol said to do.”

  Aytan maneuvered himself off Tem, stretching out her cold arm and turning her hand palm up. He gritted his teeth and before he could hesitate, ran the sharp tip of the knife along her flesh. Dark blood welled up. With a quick motion, he did the same to his left palm and he pressed his hand against hers.

  The woman sucked in a sharp breath. Her back arched and her eyes opened wide. She stared into his face.

  “Aytan Kirrae? You take pity on me? You are willing?”