Targeted

by Evangeline Anderson

  “Coming—it’s coming for us!” the other whispered and Emily had to agree.

  She’d never been able to decide what kind of insect Tragar’s boss in the Verrak resembled and now she saw it was a wasp. A huge, ten foot tall, horribly mutated wasp with enough poison to kill every single person here several times over.

  And she was its target.

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  Tragar looked up when he heard the frightened screams and a most unwelcome sight greeted his eyes. Tier Shan was coming over the crest of the hill, the light of battle glittering in his compound eyes.

  “Tier Shan.” He stepped away from Daro, who scrambled to his feet and backed up hastily, going for his sword. As soon as he found it, he ran to stand in front of Lit’all, blocking her protectively from the menacing shape. Tragar had the instant urge to do the same for Emily but he knew it was safer for her if he kept away—hopefully drawing Tier Shan towards himself and far from her.

  “Oath Breaker. Click-click.” Tier Shan’s breath hissed between his mandibles—clearly he was in a rage.

  “What are you speaking of?” Tragar demanded even as his narsh began to burn unbearably. “I broke no oath.”

  “Then why do you and the girl both still live? Why had no blood been spilled? No life been taken?” The Vash`aran clicked his mandibles angrily. “Why have you not fulfilled your contract?”

  “Because it was called off!” Tragar protested, frowning. “An emissary of Two, the Dark Kindred male who placed the contract in the first place, called and told me as much. He gave the contract termination code as well.”

  “Lies!” Tier Shan hissed, still advancing. “I was called not a solar hour ago and told that the contract was still unfulfilled! You swore to me it would be done—you lied! Click-click.”

  “Tier Shan—” But Tragar got no further chance to explain. The huge Vash`aran launched himself into the arena, stinger out, mandibles slashing.

  Tragar jumped back quickly, narrowly missing being impaled by the venom tipped barb at the end of Tier Shan’s stinger.

  “Stop this!” he roared. “There’s been a mistake—listen to me!”

  But Tier Shan was past listening. Watching the way his compound eyes cycled from green to gold to blue to a deep, angry red, Tragar knew his superior was in his battle rage. He would not emerge from it until his target was dead.

  And Emily is his target, he thought grimly. Slowly he circled, trying to draw those burning compound eyes away from the female he loved.

  At first it seemed to be working, Tier Shan moved with him, his stinger dripping venom which hissed like acid as it hit the dusty grass. Tragar drew him away, bit by bit, to the far side of the circle. He wished he could shout at Emily to run but he knew that would only draw attention to her. As it was, when he dared to glance at her, he saw she was sitting on the bench, frozen in place with her eyes a pure, burning gold.

  Gods, he had to finish this quickly! If she entered Hel, the last stage of her Tenrah and there was no one to tend to her and breed her, she would die for certain. As for the High Priestess denying her access to the breeding suite, they would just see about that. Tragar was fully prepared to fight his way in if need be, although how he could hold off the Temple Guards and breed Emily at the same time he had no idea.

  But there were more immediate problems at hand. Such as how to kill Tier Shan without getting killed himself.

  “Listen to me,” he said, trying again to reason with the huge Vash`aran. “Two’s emissary called me. He—”

  Before he could finish, Tier Shan lunged. But not at Tragar, as he had expected. His thorax twisted at the impossibly small wasp waist and his four, long, chitenous arms shot out, gripping Emily by her shoulders and hips and lifting her high above the benches.

  Before anyone sitting around her could even react, Emily was high in the air, held firmly by four insectile claws which brought her closer and closer to Tier Shan’s clicking mandibles.

  “The target—the true target. Click-click,” he hissed. “You are the cause of all this trouble and now you shall die!”

  “No!” Tragar roared. Emily still hadn’t opened her mouth, not even to scream. But he could see her eyes, burning a brilliant steady gold and filled with terror. Her face was pale as paper and her hair had gone from blonde to deep, raven black. The shock and fear of this moment had sent her body racing right into the fourth stage of her Tenrah—she would die if she wasn’t bred soon after.

  No, she’s going to die when Tier Shan bites off her head, shouted a voice in his head. Unless you save her!

  Tragar darted forward, hacking and slashing with his blade but somehow Tier Shan parried his blows with his long, black stinger, all the while holding Emily high of reach.

  His reflexes were incredibly quick, honed by years of practice but try as he might, Tragar couldn’t get inside the Vash`aran’s defenses. If he’d had his blaster, he could have burned a hole straight through the bastard’s striped abdomen and killed him but all he had was the ancient spiked sword and there was no time to get anything else. Not if Emily was going to live and every second that looked less and less likely.

  Tier Shan was pulling her closer and closer to his gaping mandibles. Their serrated edges gleamed jaggedly in the sunlight and Tragar saw that in another moment it would be too late.

  From the corner of his eye, he saw the two new Kindred males who had come looking for Emily raise their weapons—everything had happened so quickly they were just now reacting. He wished he could wait for them but he couldn’t.

  There was only one way—he had to stop trying to deflect the stinger. He needed his sword for stabbing and if he kept using it to deflect the deadly barb, he’d never get an opening.

  Taking a deep breath, he rushed forward, straight at the venom-tipped stinger. He felt it pierce his side just as his sword bit into the bloated, swollen abdomen. Ignoring the burning pain as the venom pumped into his body, Tragar gripped the hilt harder and ripped downward, unzipping the Vash`aran’s guts in a long, ragged line. Acidic venom gushed out at his feet, hissing like a nest of angry snakes and eating a crater in the grassy ground.

  Tier Shan gave a shrill, bellowing shriek and staggered back, his four arms dropping to his sides. Emily fell from his grip, tumbling through the air to land in Tragar’s outstretched arms.

  He left the sword where it was, buried in Tier Shan’s gaping abdomen, and caught her more by instinct and luck than any kind of skill. He staggered under the impact, though he managed to keep her from hitting the ground, and then set her gently on her feet.

  So weak, he thought dizzily. Should be able to catch her with no problem. What’s wrong with me?

  What was wrong was the deadly Vash`aran venom coursing through his blood stream. Even now he could feel his hands and feet going numb and knew it was only a matter of time before paralysis spread to his entire body. Still, he somehow managed to keep on his feet and pull Emily away from Tier Shan’s thrashing body.

  The huge Vash`aran had fallen on his side and was convulsing wildly, his compound eyes bright purple with agony. Clearly he was in bad shape, his venom leaking out upon the ground. Tragar knew that the bright green liquid was also his blood—if he lost enough of it, he would never recover. And from the looks of the browned and withering grass, he was nearly bled dry. This entire arena would be too polluted to use for cycles to come—Tier Shan was no longer a threat.

  “No! It cannot be! Click-click,” Tragar heard him hissing to himself. “I cannot die like this…I have never mated! I have never passed on my seed. I cannot—”

  But the last word ended in a long hissing gurgle. With a final click-click of his mandibles, the enormous Vash`aran lay still.

  Relieved, Tragar tried to lead Emily further from the massive, insectile corpse just in case there were any last death-shocks. But to his dismay, he didn’t even take a single step before he stumbled and fell to his knees. His feet were so numb he couldn’t feel them anymore.

  �
��Tragar?” Emily looked at him anxiously. “Tragar, what happened? What’s wrong?”

  “Couldn’t help it…only way,” he heard himself say. The dull, burning ache in his side throbbed painfully. He reached for the wound and his hand came away red and bloody.

  Emily’s gaze strayed down to his blood smeared palm and her eyes, now permanently gold, went wide.

  “Tragar! Oh my God—I didn’t know it got you! Help!” She looked around wildly. “Help—we need a doctor!”

  Tragar was dimly aware of Daro running forward and helping hands lowering him to the ground so he could be examined. Through it all, Emily gripped his hand in hers and refused to let go.

  “Tragar,” she whispered in a choked voice. “Please be all right! Please don’t leave me—I need you. I love you!”

  “Love you…too, Emily.” He nearly choked, trying to get the words out. The numbness was creeping up his arms and legs now, trying to take over his body. He squeezed Emily’s hand as well as he could, though he could barely feel her small fingers entwined with his own. “Served you well, my Khalla,” he whispered, looking up at her. “I fought…for you.”

  And then the numbness climbed higher and darkness ate his sight.

  * * * * *

  “Oh my God—Tragar! Tragar!” Emily squeezed his hand and patted his cheek but it did no good. He lay limp on the grass, just a few feet from the massive wasp-thing that had tried to kill her.

  She could feel the other trying to come forward, wanting to see but she pushed her back impatiently. Not now!

  “Then when?” the other demanded. “I love him too! And it is my time—I must come forward for good.”

  No! Emily told her firmly. She could feel the other getting stronger, growing inside her until she felt like a pot of water coming to a boil. But Emily held her back with grim determination. If she let the other take over for good, she would never know what happened to Tragar! She had to know—had to be certain he was all right!

  Emily still wasn’t sure how he had gotten hurt—she’d been high up in the air, looking down the insect thing’s gullet, certain she was going to die. All she knew was that Tragar had caught her and somehow killed his awful wasp-boss before suddenly collapsing. But at least Daro was examining him. He had peeled back the black leather vest to get a better look at the wound in the big Kindred’s side. The expression on his face was deadly serious.

  “What is it? Is he all right? Tell me he’ll be okay,” Emily pleaded with him.

  He looked up and sighed.

  “Khalla-to-be, forgive me but this is a grave wound indeed. I fear that the enemy he fought stabbed him with its barb and injected poison.”

  “Oh my God…oh no!” Emily ran her free hand through her hair, her eyes burning. “I was hoping it just, I don’t know, grazed him or something.”

  “You were not in a position to see what happened,” Daro said. “But it is more than a graze. Tragar fell upon the barb of your would-be assassin in order to stab it and save you. He sacrificed himself for you, my Khalla.”

  “He…he did?” Emily felt tears gather behind her burning eyes but somehow held them back. “Oh, Tragar…” She sniffed and tried to get hold of herself. “All right, so what can we do? Is there some kind of antivenom? Or do you have an EpiPen?”

  Daro frowned. “Pardon me? A what, my Khalla?”

  “You know—a shot of adrenaline for allergic reactions.” Emily knew all about them—one of the kids in her classroom the year before had been severely allergic to several things including bee stings. Emily had taken that damn pen with her every time the class even went outdoors to visit the bathrooms. She wished fervently that she had it now.

  But Daro was shaking his head.

  “This is no allergic reaction, my Khalla. See—he isn’t swollen or broken out in a rash and his breathing is not labored…yet.”

  “Well, then what is it?” Emily demanded. “Tell me what it is and how we can fix it!”

  “I don’t know that we can.” He shook his head. “It saddens me to say for he was an honorable male and he spared my life—I would gladly save his if I could. But it appears the venom was some kind of neurotoxin. Look—see how his arms and legs are paralyzed?” He lifted one of Tragar’s arms and let it fall. “No reflexes.”

  “A neurotoxin? What does that mean?” Emily asked. Her heart felt like someone was squeezing it in a cruel fist.

  Daro sighed. “It means that the venom is slowly paralyzing his entire body. It starts with the extremities and works inwards. When it reaches his heart and lungs…well…”

  He didn’t finish the sentence but he didn’t have to.

  “No! No, I don’t accept this—there must be something we can do!” Emily’s eyes were on fire now—in fact, her entire body felt hot. It was the other again, trying to come forward. Grimly, she pushed the other girl back. I said not now!

  “I am afraid not.” Daro shook his head. “There is nothing anyone can do now but commend him to the Goddess, my Khalla.”

  “Wait!” Emily had a sudden thought. “A Khalla—that’s right—I’m a Khalla! And Lit’aal told me that a Khalla’s touch was healing. That her nectar could even bring people back from death’s door!”

  Daro frowned. “That is forbidden.”

  “I don’t care if it’s forbidden—just tell me how to do it!” Emily demanded.

  “I don’t know if you can,” he said giving her an appraising look. “Possibly if you were truly a Khalla and not just a Khalla-to-be you might accomplish it. But though you appear to have reached the fourth and final stage of your Tenrah, I do not believe your Kit’tara has come completely forward yet. Until you cross fully over that threshold, you will not come into your powers.”

  Emily had a brief and bitter internal struggle. If she gave in and let the other come completely forward and take over her body forever, she would be giving up her last chance to see Tragar alive. He might live or die and she would never know. She would be wiped out of existence, as though she’d never been born.

  On the other hand, she might have a chance to save him if she gave up and let the other take over. And if there was even a slim chance…

  Promise me, she though hard at the other girl who was sharing her head. Promise you’ll do everything in your power to save him.

  “I will,” she heard the other say. “I love him too, Emily! I swear I will save him…or die trying.”

  Emily took a deep breath. It was hard…so hard to give in to her own oblivion. She didn’t want to wink out of existence. She wanted to live and love Tragar and have his babies! She wanted to grown old with the big Kindred and never be parted from him again.

  But that was not to be.

  Closing her eyes, she dropped the last mental barrier she’d been fighting so long to defend. All right, she sent, knowing the other could hear her. Go ahead—take over.

  Chapter Thirty

  Go ahead, Emily thought at the other again. Take over—I won’t try to stop you.

  There was a feeling of intense gratitude from the girl who had been sharing her head for so long.

  “Thank you!”

  Immediately her entire body was flooded with a wave of heat as the other surged forward.

  Emily waited to be obliterated…and waited…and waited. But somehow it didn’t happen. Instead, she was filled with other sensations almost too numerous to count.

  Her eyes burned and her joints ached—even her hair felt like it was changing. Her breasts were suddenly achingly full and her nipples felt so sensitive even the soft gauzy white shift she was wearing under the dark red robe felt harsh and abrasive. Between her legs her sex was suddenly swollen and hot.

  What’s going on with me? What’s happening? she thought wildly.

  “We’re merging,” the other sent back. Only now, Emily knew her name wasn’t just “the other.” She had a true name—one Emily had never bothered to learn because she was trying so hard to hold her back.

  “Emallia. I am Emallia,” she
said aloud, opening her eyes which had been tightly closed this entire time.

  “What?” Daro looked up from examining Tragar and his eyes went wide. “Your hair—it is so much longer! And your eyes burn like suns! Khalla, no. You must not allow yourself to enter the breeding cycle if you can help it!”

  “I had to do it.” To Emily—now also Emallia—even her voice sounded different. It was stronger—more commanding. “I had to become a full Khalla and complete the Shift—it’s the only way to save Tragar.”

  “But if you cannot save him then who will breed you?” Daro demanded. “You will die, my Khalla.”

  “That is a chance I’m willing to take,” Emily declared. The inner strength of the other was bonded to her now—she felt ready to take on any challenge. “How much time do we have before it’s too late to save him?” she demanded.

  “Five…maybe ten solar minutes?” Daro shook his head. “I’m not sure.”

  “It is enough,” Emily said in her new, strong voice. “Get some help and bring him to the breeding suite—hurry!”

  “I think not.” Mother Chundra was suddenly standing in front of her, glaring down with her green-on-green eyes. “I told you the breeding suite is forbidden to you!”

  “But High Priestess, if the new Khalla is not allowed to enter the suite with her male, they both will surely die!” Daro protested, frowning. “We must act quickly to save them both.”

  Mother Chundra smiled cruelly.

  “The Khalla-to-be should have considered more carefully before she defied me. Now she and her male will both pay the price.”

  Emily felt a surge of righteous fury sweep over her. She rose to her feet and saw to her surprise that she was now taller than the High Priestess. She looked down at the other woman, her eyes blazing.

  “I am a Khalla-to-be no longer! This moment I am a full fledged Khalla and my name is Emallia. You will allow me and my chosen mate to pass into the breeding suite or face the wrath of the Goddess!”

  For a moment, Mother Chundra looked pale and uncertain. Then she lifted her chin and glared at Emily.