DarkWind: 2nd Book, WindDemon Trilogy

by Charlotte Boyett-Compo

  “You are referring to Captain McGregor?”

  “What have I done?” Caitlin breathed. “What have I set into motion?”

  A delicate chime announced a visitor at her door and Caitlin snapped her head up. “No entry!” she yelled.

  There was a soft thud: the sound of a security lock falling into place within the titanium structure of the door.

  “Secured,” the Com-Link stated, “but you are being hailed, Sweeting.”

  “Stop calling me that!” Caitlin shouted, grabbing a pillow to throw it at the offending wall panel in which the Com-Link was housed. “Don’t call me that again. Do you hear me?”

  “Understood.” The Com-Link’s normally soothing voice took on a curt, cold, and machine-like quality. “But you are being hailed, Dr. Kelly.”

  “No connection,” Caitlin barked. “Terminate!”

  There was a click as the Com-Link was turned off.

  Caitlin knew who was outside her door. She could feel him standing there, angry, annoyed, and seething with the desire to punish her for defying him. She sat huddled on the bed, her eyes glued to the door, waiting for him to respond to her defiance.

  She didn’t have long to wait.

  The blast peeled the door panel back on its pneumatic lock and the metal folded inward like a rose bud relaxing its petals. A carbon stain left a black ring around the opening and was still smoldering as Iyan McGregor stepped through.

  Before she could scramble for the weapon in the drawer beside her bed, he was over her, pinning her to the bed, his chest pressing against her back, his long legs effectively weighing her own down.

  “Do not fight me,” he said in a tired voice. “I will only have to endure another talking-to from Khiershon and I’ve had more than enough of those for one solar passing, Lady.”

  “Get off me!” she hissed, hating his breath in her ear.

  He pulled open the drawer, extracted the weapon then flipped off her and sprang to the floor.

  “Look what you did to my door!”

  “Had you not tried to keep me from entering, there would have been no harm done to your door.”

  “Get out!” she screamed so loudly Iyan jumped, covering his ears to contain the ringing.

  McGregor had no choice as he saw it. He did what he knew was right.

  Without another word, he reached down, grabbed the Terran woman’s arm, jerked her toward him, hefted her over his shoulder and-with her kicking and screaming and pounding his back with her fists-climbed through the hole in her door.

  “I am going to kill you!” she screeched, clawing at his thighs.

  “No you aren’t,” he said grimly as he strode heavily down the corridor, “but you may well be the death of me!”

  Helen, Lisa, Pat , Barb, Marti, and Cathy sat quietly at one of the dining tables in the mess hall. Six silent, imposing warriors who barely looked at them had escorted them here. The women had no way of knowing the males had been ordered not to make eye contact or to show interest in the women in any way.

  “I heard their First Officer telling one of the men that our crew is to be taken back to the planetoid where we found him,” Helen whispered.

  “And left there?” Lisa gasped.

  “Aye, but with food and provisions and a distress signal,” added Helen.

  “Even so, that’ll go over big with Caitlin,” muttered Cathy.

  “It was her idea,” said Barb.

  Marti looked at Cathy. “Why? To protect them?”

  “Probably,” Pat agreed.

  “Well, who’s gonna protect us?” Lisa demanded. She nudged her chin toward the warriors at the far end of the mess hall. “Would any of you like to tangle with them?”

  The women turned their heads in unison and stared at the hulking warriors.

  “Not me,” Marti answered.

  An enraged shriek that could have come from none other than Caitlin Kelly brought the women to their feet. They would have gone to investigate, but the warriors moved like lightning across the room, barring their departure.

  “Lady, sit,” the tallest of the warriors ordered Helen, the highest-ranking woman among them.

  “She is my friend!” Helen growled. “She is-”

  “In no danger,” the warrior insisted. “He has chosen her and she will be safe.”

  “Chosen her for what?” asked Marti only to have the other women turn knowing eyes to her.

  Marti’s eyes widened. “Oh, lord!”

  “That can’t be good,” said Lisa.

  “Maybe it is,” Helen whispered. “You know what they say about leading a man around by his...”

  “Lady, be quiet,” the warrior said, but his eyes flashed with humor.

  “Hearing like a bat’s,” said Cathy.

  “But possessed of the love organ of a bull,” the warrior returned.

  Cathy arched a thick brow. “Oh, yeah?”

  The warrior merely grinned. His gaze swept over Cathy with appreciation then settled somewhere over her head.

  Pat shook her head. “This ought to be interesting.”

  Chapter Eight

  Khiershon hurt so badly his teeth chattered, but he would not ask the silent woman sitting rigidly across the room to help him. He dug his fingernails into his palm, relishing the distraction of the pain gouging into his flesh and ignored the blood dripping onto the white sheet.

  Iyan stared moodily at the computer screen before him, hissing now and then as something angered or annoyed him. There was a look on his face that boded ill for anyone foolish enough to interrupt him at his task.

  Other than the occasional click of the computer keyboard as Iyan typed in his questions, the room was still. Khiershon’s groan-slight as it was-brought McGregor’s head up.

  “Are you in need of something, Khier?” Iyan asked, his hands paused over the keyboard.

  Cree shook his head and felt sweat running into his eyes. He put up a shaky hand to wipe away the sting.

  “I think he needs more blood,” said Caitlin.

  Iyan frowned. “Is that so, Khiershon?” He pushed back from the computer terminal and went to stand over his friend. “Do you need Sustenance?”

  Cree knew it was too soon to take blood from the Terran woman. She would be made weak and ill if he were to drink from her at this time. His concern for her was such that he shook his head, denying that he was in need.

  “What do you need then?” Iyan asked, his brow furrowed. He did not like the paleness of Cree’s flesh nor the heavy sweat dotting his friend’s face.

  “He’s afraid he’ll do me harm if he takes any more blood from me,” Caitlin said and saw both men turn to look at her: one with annoyance, the other with surprise.

  Iyan looked down at Cree. “Is this so? Are you concerned for her safety?”

  “I am all right,” Cree forced out. He nudged his chin toward the computer “Go back to your learning, McGregor.”

  “He’s lying.” Caitlin stood and walked to the gurney. “He’s not all right. I’ve been watching him act like a wounded dog.”

  “Wolf,” McGregor corrected. “Dearg Duls are more wolf-”

  “She doesn’t need to know that.” Cree tried to push himself up on the gurney, but the pain was too great and he had to clamp his teeth together to keep from crying out.

  “Men are such stubborn creatures.” Caitlin reached for the cuff of her jumpsuit.

  “No, milady.” Cree shook his head.

  “You need it,” she said as she rolled her sleeve up.

  “No, I do not!”

  “Let the woman serve you, Cree,” said Iyan. “That is why the gods created the worrisome creatures!”

  “Go to hell,” hissed Caitlin. She would have put her wrist to Cree’s mouth, but he turned his head away.

  “No!” he snarled.

  “You are in pain.”

  “As though such mattered to you,” scoffed Iyan. “It is because of your useless hide that he is hurting!”

  Caitlin spun around;
her hand connected viciously with McGregor’s cheek. “Shut up, you chauvinistic pig! I am a Healer! It is my job to ease pain, not cause it!”

  Iyan, staggered by the blow, stumbled against the bulkhead. He hit the titanium wall, shook his head to clear it of the ringing, and roared like a bull as he shot toward her. He had every intention of beating her senseless-and would have-had Cree not bellowed his denial.

  “Touch her ever and I will tear the flesh from your bones and suck out the marrow, McGregor!”

  Iyan was brought up short by the enraged threat and skidded to a halt, his body so close to Caitlin’s he could feel her heat and smell the intoxicating scent of her womanhood. His eyes flared and he stepped back, real fear on his handsome face.

  Caitlin shuddered as she heard the vow in those brutal words and saw the effect they had on a man who was considered the Reaper’s friend. In that moment, she understood there would be no turning back. She belonged to Khiershon Cree whether she liked it or not.

  “Go,” Cree whispered, the pain so great he was trembling from it. “Leave me. You pose too much temptation.”

  The Healer’s heart within Caitlin Kelly ached for her patient. He was not of her world-and if truth were told-not even human, but his suffering was not something she could watch without trying to help. With her heart racing in her chest, she reached out a trembling hand and laid it on his shoulder.

  “Lady, don’t!”

  “You have claimed me,” she said in a soft voice, “therefore I am yours.”

  Iyan turned to stare at her, just as Cree did.

  “If that is true,” she continued, watching the Reaper’s golden eyes flicker with intense agony, “then it is my right...” She shook her head. “No, it is my duty to do all I can to care for you.” She saw the denial forming on his lips and put her fingers across them to silence him. “Just as you would care for me if the need arose.” She turned her hand so the backs of her fingers smoothed over his mouth. “Am I wrong, Cree?”

  He held her gaze, searching her eyes for the disgust he’d once seen there. Looking for the fear he knew was lurking somewhere in the green depths. But all he saw was a gentleness, a compassion he had never found in a female’s look before-not even Raphaella’s-and that one bore him some small measure of affection. “Let me help you,” whispered Caitlin.

  Her flesh was warm against his lips. The smell of her skin was sweet and infinitely alluring. He wanted to taste her, to run his rough tongue over the silkiness of her arm.

  “Drink,” she said on a breath as soft as down and laid her left wrist to his lips.

  Cree opened his lips, flicked his tongue over Caitlin’s wrist then gently sank his teeth into her flesh.

  Iyan turned away, for he had seen the defeat welling in Cree’s eyes. It was not seemly to watch a leader’s capture by the enemy. He understood well that the Reaper had just handed his life into the female’s keeping. There was in the silent gaze between them something McGregor did not understand and could not stop. He had seen that same defeat forming in the woman’s eyes and knew she was as stunned by the emotion as was Iyan.

  Without looking back, Iyan left them alone.

  Caitlin closed her eyes as her blood flowed into the Reaper’s mouth. Her free hand had somehow come to rest in the thick dark curls of his hair and she stroked him much as she would a loving pet lapping at her hand. She began to feel lightheaded and slightly nauseous. She swayed and a small a groan of discomfort passed her lips.

  She never felt him lifting her to lay her gently beside him on the gurney. Deep in weak slumber, she lay cradled in his protective arms, her head on his bare shoulder. Her injured wrist was in his hand, her slender fingers splayed in the thick mat of hair on his chest, his thumb easing over the twin bite marks where his fangs had pierced the flesh.

  She did not feel the steady beat of his conquered heart.

  Nor the gentle kiss he placed upon her brow.

  Chapter Nine

  Caitlin woke to find herself enfolded in the Reaper’s strong arms. His breath fanned the hair at her temple and from its cadence, she knew he was sleeping deeply. For a moment, the old fear surged up her throat but when he moaned in his sleep and his arms tightened around her in a protective way, the fear evaporated. She relaxed against his side, breathing in the scent of him and was not displeased with the sensation it caused. His male odor was very pleasant.

  She raised her head so she could look at his profile and felt a strange sensation in the pit of her stomach as she gazed at him. He was extraordinarily handsome; the most beautiful man she had ever seen. With his sable hair spread out over the pillow, his thick lashes fanning the ruddy glow of his high cheekbones, he reminded her of paintings of the Greek gods of eons ago. Her gaze moved down to his thickly furred chest with the hard ridges of prime muscle and she ached to run her hand over his flat abdomen.

  “Touch me in any way you wish, milady,” he said and Caitlin let out a squeal of surprise. Her gaze leapt to his face and she found him grinning.

  Her face infused with heat, Caitlin pushed against him, wanting to be as far away from his knowing smile as she could get.

  “You find me only a fraction as attractive as I find you,” he said, refusing to allow her to leave him.

  “Stop reading my thoughts!” She wiggled to get free.

  “Keep that up, milady, and you’ll give rise to another problem,” he warned.

  Caitlin stilled, knowing full well what he meant. Though she would not look at him, she felt his attention wandering over her. Her breathing became shallow, quick, and when he lifted his hand to cup her cheek, she closed her eyes, groaning at his soft touch.

  “Why do you fight this attraction between us, Cait?”

  “I am afraid.”

  “There is no reason to fear me.”

  Hesitantly, she raised her eyes to meet his. “It isn’t you I fear,” she whispered.

  He searched her gaze for a long while, then nodded. “You fear the feelings growing inside you.”

  “You aren’t human,” she accused and bit her lip, not having meant to hurt him or insult him.

  “No,” he agreed, “I am not. I am Dearg Duls, but I am as human as I need to be, when I need to be. Is it that you fear the beast within me?”

  When she remained silent, he lifted her face, lowered his lips to hers and placed a gentle kiss on her mouth. There was no need for him to ask what bothered her for her blood was singing through his veins and he knew her mind as well as he knew his own.

  “The beast within me loves you as much as the man within me,” he said against her mouth.

  Caitlin turned her head. How could this alien love her? With his intoxicating kisses plying her lips, it was hard to think. There were issues that needed to be settled in her own mind and with him so near, his presence so intense beside her, she could not think straight.

  “What is there to think about?” he asked.

  “Please don’t do that!”

  Khiershon frowned. “I can no more stop reading your thoughts than I can stop the breath from entering my lungs, Caitlin. I can not control the reception of your thoughts any more than I can control the air currents.”

  “Try,” she insisted, pushing out of his arms and surprised that he allowed her to break free of his hold.

  He watched her as she sat up on the gurney and swung her legs to the floor. “Slowly,” he warned as she made to stand.

  Caitlin felt lightheaded as soon as her feet touched the floor and she sat down again, putting a hand to her head.

  “I may have taken more than I should have, milady,” he admitted and laid his hand on her hip. “Lie with me awhile longer.” He caressed her waist. “Until you are stronger.”

  With a long sigh of tiredness, Caitlin stretched out beside him, shocked at the way her body seemed to graft automatically to his from shoulder to hip to thigh.

  “Your body wants me even if you do not.”

  She sighed again, knowing she’d never get used to him
reading her thoughts. She made a mental vow to do all she could to block her thoughts.

  Khiershon Cree chuckled.

  “It isn’t funny.”

  “Aye, it is. You are fighting a losing battle, beloved.”

  “I am a private person.” She scrunch her shoulder away from contact with his chest.

  “As am I.”

  “Then stop reading my thoughts.”

  It was Cree’s turn to sigh, but it was a breath of sound full of acceptance of her wishes. “I’ll try,” he said.

  They lay there in companionable silence for fifteen minutes or so, and then Caitlin arched her neck so she could look into his face. “What exactly is it you want from me, Cree?”

  Khiershon’s dark brows went up. “Have I not made that clear?”

  Caitlin shook her head. “No, you have not.”

  He thought for a moment then he frowned. “The gods put you here for me, Caitlin Kelly.”

  “Really?” she asked in a droll tone. “That’s the only purpose I have in life?”

  “That and to save lives,” he responded. “As you saved mine.”

  “Anyone could have happened by and heard that distress signal, Cree.”

  Khiershon smiled. “There was no distress signal, Caitlin. That was me calling you.” When she started to protest that explanation, he laid a finger across her lips. “Three hours before, a mining transport flew past, but I did not hail them. I was waiting for you.”

  “You didn’t know I was out there!”

  “No, but the gods did. They sent you to me, Caitlin. Never doubt that.”

  She stared at him. “You were dying. You let that transport fly right past you without-”

  “My body would have ceased to function, aye,” he said, “but I would not have died. The parasite would not have allowed that to happen.”

  Caitlin shuddered, remembering the evil thing that was inside him.

  “It is only as evil as the host will allow it to be, beloved.”