Sylvan looked down at his hands. “Normally it isn’t but right now…ever since the trip we took in the transport tube…”
Sophie thought of the warm, spicy scent that seemed to go to her head, the way it made her react to him… “It’s your mating scent, isn’t it?” she asked in a low voice, not daring to look at him.
“Yes.” He sounded ashamed.
“But why…” She risked a sidelong glance at him. “Why is it coming out now? I, uh, thought it only happened during the claiming period. But you’re not, um, claiming me or anything. I mean, we’re not… you know.”
“I know.” He shook his head. “I don’t understand what’s going on either. We haven’t even been dream sharing. Well, that is, I mean…” He cleared his throat. “I’ve had a few dreams of you. But nothing out of the ordinary.” He glanced at her. “Have you…had any strange dreams?”
“No.” Sophie shook her head and a look of mingled disappointment and relief passed over his stern features. “I have been, uh, having problems with my art, though,” she admitted in a low voice.
“Problems with your art?” He frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I paint,” Sophie explained. “You know—with a paintbrush and easel?” She made a painting motion in the air and his eyes widened.
“That was what I dreamed. That you were painting a picture of…of me.”
Sophie nearly choked. “But I have been! You’re all I’ve been able to paint lately. Even when I try not to, you always sneak in there. It’s so annoying.” Then she realized what she’d said. “Uh, I mean—”
“It doesn’t matter.” Sylvan cut her off, shaking his head. “So we have been dream sharing, in a way.”
Sophie felt herself go cold all over. “Does…does that mean you’re going to try to…to claim me? The way Baird claimed Liv?” Oh my God, if he does, if he claims me, then he’ll want to bite me! That’s the way his people do it. She had horror-movie visions of being held down under his muscular bulk, held down and pierced multiple times and in multiple ways. God, his teeth in my throat at the same time he’s inside me, filling me, holding me down and biting and thrusting. He’s so big, so strong—I’d never be able to get away.
The horror she felt must have showed on her face, because Sylvan’s voice was rough when he spoke. “Don’t worry, Sophia. Even if I wanted to claim you, I couldn’t.”
“Oh right.” She felt a small measure of relief. “Your vow.”
“My vow,” he agreed.
“Sylvan,” she said softly. “It’s…it’s not you. It’s just…I don’t want to be claimed by anyone. And the whole biting thing…” She shuddered. “I’m sorry, I can’t handle that. I mean, I get faint every time I have to get a shot.”
“As I said, you don’t have to worry.” His face was an unreadable mask now and his tone was perfectly bland.
I’ve really offended him, Sophie thought unhappily. And after he was so good to me. Getting me out of the crash and carrying me for miles and miles. He must think I’m such a horrible, ungrateful person. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered.
Sylvan shook his head. “You have no reason to be. I just…don’t understand why this is happening. Why my body is reacting this way. I took my vow before the Mother of Life in the sacred grove and I know she would never wish me to break it. My body as well as my mind and spirit should be bound by my oath.”
“Maybe…maybe there’s a reason you can’t see,” Sophie offered. “I mean, I don’t know much about your religion but on Earth we have a saying—‘God works in mysterious ways, his wonders to perform.’ Could it be…something like that?”
A look of dawning comprehension lit Sylvan’s face. “You know, you could be right. Perhaps the Mother knew we would be in this situation. That I would have to protect you by masking your scent with my own. Only my mating scent would be strong enough to do that, so…” He nodded decisively. “Yes, that must be it. That must be why my body is reacting to yours so strongly.”
“Of course,” Sophie agreed. “And probably when this is all over and we get out of here, everything will, uh, go back to normal.”
“I’m sure it will.” He looked relieved.
“So…” Sophie looked at him uncertainly. “Nothing we’re…I mean, you’re feeling is real?”
“I suppose not.” But the look he gave her seemed real. Very real.
“Uh…okay.” Sophie nibbled her bottom lip and squeaked with pain. She’d forgotten about the small wound on her lip from the Luck Kiss. God, it seemed a hundred years ago now, but it had only been earlier that day. Unless it was past midnight now. She had no idea since she’d left her cell phone at home, wanting no distractions during Liv’s wedding.
Sylvan was staring at her lower lip with an unreadable expression on his face. “I wish you’d let me heal that for you. Your palms too.” He nodded down at the scrapes she’d gotten when she fell. “And your knees and temple.”
Sophie put a hand to the side of her head self consciously and realized that her hair on that side was stiff with blood. Must have really hit that rock hard!
“Will you let me?” Sylvan’s deep voice was filled with longing. “Will you allow me to heal you, Talana?”
There’s that word again—what does it mean? And how in the world is he going to—oh! The memory of how he’d healed the gash across her breast sprang to her mind and she suddenly felt hot and cold all over. He means can he lick me. That’s how he wants to heal me. Oh my God…
“I…uh…I wonder if there’s any power in this cabin,” she said, looking down at her hands to avoid his burning gaze. “I mean, if they have a working hot water heater. Because I would kill for a shower.”
Sylvan rose. “I’ll see what I can do.”
“No, no, it’s all right.” Sophie tried to get off the bed and nearly fell over when she felt the stabbing pain in her ankle. “Ouch!”
“Are you all right?” Sylvan looked at her anxiously.
“Fine, it’s just my ankle.” It was true that her twisted ankle was still throbbing, but she could stand to put some weight on it now. And she was going to have to if she didn’t want him carrying her everywhere. Her eyes had adjusted to the dim light coming through the windows and she could see a small room to one side. “That must be the bathroom. Think I’ll go check out the hot water situation.”
He reached for her. “I’ll carry you.”
“No, no! It’s better already—see?” Sophie put her foot flat down on the floor and tried to smile despite the pain.
Sylvan frowned. “If you’re certain you’re all right. I must have misjudged the severity of your injury.”
“I’m perfectly fine,” Sophie said, trying to make her voice cheerful and light. “I mean, aside from being chased by evil cyborg dogs from hell who want to drag me back to the Scourge overlord, I couldn’t be better.”
Sylvan’s eyes were suddenly dark. “Don’t even joke about that.”
“Sorry.” She shrugged. “I was just trying to lighten the mood. I’ll just…” She motioned at the bathroom and he nodded. Because he was still watching her, Sophie forced herself to walk without limping, even though her ankle was still so tender and it felt like someone was sticking a knife into it with every step. Finally she got to the bathroom and breathed a sigh of relief as she closed the door.
* * * * *
Sylvan sat in the darkness for a long moment, listening to Sophia rustle around in the bathroom. So now I know why my body has been reacting to hers, despite my vow. It is the will of the Mother. She knew I would need to protect Sophia. Knew that we would be put in this situation together. He wasn’t zealously religious but he did believe, as most Kindred did, that the Goddess they worshipped had a hand in even the smallest details of her children’s lives. So it wasn’t hard to believe that she had placed them together like this for a reason. And hadn’t the priestess on the Mother ship warned him that they would be in danger? Should have listened to her, I guess. But I was so angry at the way she w
as treating Sophia, I didn’t care about anything else.
It was a relief to have a reason for his body’s irrational behavior. And yet…if none of the feelings he had for Sophia were real, then why did he long to hold her? It wasn’t just lust he felt for her, although the Mother knew, he had plenty of that. But he yearned to protect and comfort her too. To heal her wounds and shield her from danger with his body. I’ve always been cold and emotionless as a Tranq should be. I’ve never felt this way for anyone before. Will all of this—the feelings I have for her—just disappear when we’re safe again on the Mother ship?
The thought of that, of losing what he felt for Sophia, was like a dagger in his heart. And yet…wouldn’t it be better that way? She doesn’t want me, he reminded himself yet again. The look on her face when she’d thought he might claim her had spoken volumes. The very idea of being his bride was frightening and repugnant to her.
But then, why does her body react to me? Just a few minutes before, when I gave her my word to defend her or die trying, I would swear she almost kissed me. Why do I see longing in her eyes? Why did she react so willingly when I healed her breast?
His fangs and cock ached at the memory, but Sylvan tried to push the need that rose in him like a tidal wave away. It’s just my mating scent working on her. Nothing more than that.
It was time he got up and explored the cabin. He needed to know if there were any hidden weaknesses he would have to defend. And he needed to build a fire in the small fireplace he saw across from the bed. The urlich might not fear much, but they hated fire.
Sylvan wished he had his blazer—a weapon that shot a finely collimated beam of energy, strong enough to cut any enemy in half. But he hadn’t had it on him at the wedding—no weapons were permitted in the sacred grove. And it hadn’t crossed his mind that he would need it when he was simply taking Sophia home through what he thought was friendly space. I’ll never be caught without it again, he told himself grimly. If we get out of this, that is.
But if they did get out of the situation, Sophia would no longer be his to protect and defend. To mark as his own…Sylvan felt his whole body grow tight at the thought of that, of holding her naked body close while he rubbed against her, branding her with his scent. I want her so badly. Goddess help me, I almost hope the urlich do find our trail.
It was wrong and he knew it, but he couldn’t help himself. He just kept picturing it in his mind’s eye—the way Sophia’s pale cheeks would flush with passion, the feel of her soft breasts pressing against his chest. And most of all, the wet, warm slide of her pussy against his shaft as he rubbed against her with deliciously long, slow strokes. I want to make her come. Want to hear her gasp and moan, want to feel her lose control under me. And as he pleasured her, he would be changing her scent, overwriting it with his own until it became something new, a fragrance that would announce to the universe that she was his. His forever…
Or at least until they got safely back to the Mother ship.
The thought brought him back to reality with a thud. It was time to stop daydreaming and see to more practical matters than his runaway emotions. Sighing deeply, he went to check the cabin.
Chapter Ten
“You have failed.”
It wasn’t a question. Xairn bowed his head submissively, though darkness churned inside his chest. Fear, hatred, loathing and worst of all the desire to just once not be a disappointment, to not have his father hate him, filled him to overflowing. But the AllFather was cold to everyone, he reminded himself. It wasn’t as though he deserved to be an exception.
“The Kindred warrior piloting the shuttle wouldn’t give the girl up,” he said, looking down. “I tried everything but he executed a suicide maneuver. They crashed on the planet’s surface—we don’t even know if the girl still lives.”
“Ssshe livesss.” The AllFather’s eyes glowed like hot coals. “I feel her in my mind. You mussst retrieve her.”
“But the protection grid—”
“Hasss flawsss in it. Gaps large enough for our probesss to get through.”
Xairn nodded. “I will dispatch some at once.”
“I have done ssso already, while you were returning from your failed mission.” The AllFather’s voice turned harsh. “Do you not know that the fate of our entire race hangs upon thisss? We mussst obtain the girl! Or you—my incompetent ssson—will be the last of our order.”
“The vat-grown warriors—”
“Lack both initiative and intelligence. We need fresh female DNA that isss compatible with our own—not ancient eggs that have been replicated ssso many timesss that any virtue they once had hasss been leached away. We need a female who can breed with usss—with me.” The flame red eyes flashed. “Do you understand?”
“I understand,” Xairn said in a low voice.
“Good. Then be ready to assist when the urlich capture the girl. Isss the molecular transport beam ready?”
“Almost.” Xairn cleared his throat. “We have been working on it night and day. I’m trying—”
“No trying and no more excusesss. Sssee to it that the beam is ready. We’ll need a way to take her once the urlich have her surrounded.”
“Yes, of course.” Xairn bowed and turned away.
“Xairn?” His name spoken in that cold tone froze him in his tracks. Reluctantly he turned back to face the AllFather.
“Yes, Father?”
“I want you to know, there will be a punishment for this day’sss failure.” Red eyes gleamed in the folds of his hood and the AllFather tapped one skeletal finger against the arm of his metal throne for emphasis. “It isss not forgotten—only delayed.”
Xairn knew the kind of punishment his father spoke of—what lay in store for him. The numbing sting of a mind invasion, the horror of having his memories, dreams, and hopes manipulated and twisted, until the mental anguish was so great he felt like he must explode. Physical torture would be kinder by far, but that was not the AllFather’s way.
There was nothing he could say to get out of it. Nothing he could do but try to forget it until it was upon him. Otherwise dread would eat into his mind, making it impossible to concentrate on the task he had been assigned. “I understand, Father,” he said in a low voice. “As always, I await your pleasure.”
And that was the problem—the AllFather drew much pleasure from the pain of others and no one was exempt from feeding his monstrous appetite.
Not even his son.
Chapter Eleven
Sophie flipped the light switch on the wall but there was no change in the darkness. Great, no electricity. Which meant she was probably going to be taking a cold shower. But no matter how freezing the water was, she had to wash off. She felt horribly dirty and grimy—especially the places where she could feel dried blood flaking off her skin. Ugh—she must look like a complete mess.
But how am I going to see what I’m doing in the dark? There was a single small window in one wall of the bathroom that showed the ghostly outlines of a sink, toilet, and shower stall, but it certainly didn’t shed enough light to take a shower by.
A faint gleam told her there was a mirrored medicine chest above the sink. Hoping to find a flashlight, Sophie opened it carefully and began feeling the shelves inside. She had never been the type to snoop into other people’s things and she said a silent apology to the absent owner of the cabin as she went.
She didn’t find a flashlight but there was a small pack of matches in one dark corner. Now if only there was a candle to go with them. If this cabin belonged to a woman or if whoever owns it has a wife, there ought to be some around somewhere…
Striking a match, she found what she was looking for. On the back of the toilet was a tall pillar candle that smelled faintly of vanilla. With a happy little cry, Sophia lit it, sending a silent thank you to the woman who had left it there.
Her eyes had grown so accustomed to the dark that the single candle seemed positively brilliant. A pink flowered shower curtain that matched a fuzzy pink bathma
t and toilet seat cover were revealed in the flickering light. There was even a fluffy pink towel hanging from a tiny rack beside the shower. Definitely a woman’s touch, she thought approvingly. Thank you, whoever you are. I’ll try not to mess up your stuff too much!
Without much hope she turned to the small shower stall and fiddled with the knobs. To her intense delight, after a moment the water actually began to steam. Hot water! Oh, thank God. They must have a gas or oil water heater or something else that doesn’t depend on electricity.
Sophie couldn’t remember the last time she’d wanted a shower so badly. Peeling off Sylvan’s uniform shirt and the ragged remains of her bridesmaid’s dress, she stepped gratefully under the steamy flow.
She would have liked to wash her hair but she didn’t see any shampoo so she twisted the long strands into a loose knot at the back of her neck instead. There was a rather dried cake of soap in the dish mounted on one wall and she rubbed it between her palms, working up a lather. Mmm, jasmine and honey.
The smell of the soap was surprisingly strong and it gave her an idea. Maybe she could mask her smell without any of the embarrassing sounding “scent marking” Sylvan had been talking about. If she used enough of the strong smelling soap, there was no way the horrible Scourge sniffers could find her—right? Sophie lathered liberally and repeated twice, making sure to get every part of herself squeaky clean—even the side of her head where she’d hit the rock. Then, reluctantly, she turned off the water and wrapped herself in the towel.
No sense putting it off anymore…She was going to have to face Sylvan again. At least the long cut along her chest and breast appeared to be completely healed, so she didn’t have to go through that again.
Just the memory of that, of his hot tongue lapping gently over her nipple, made her knees feel weak. I won’t think about it, she told herself sternly. After all, it’s not like there’s anything between us. He has to protect me—he swore he would. That’s the only reason his mating scent is coming out and once we’re back in the Kindred mother ship everything will go back to normal. In the mean time, he’s just doing whatever he can to make sure I’m safe.
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