DarkWind: 2nd Book, WindDemon Trilogy

by Charlotte Boyett-Compo

  “I’d wait until morning,” she suggested. She came toward him, wrapping her arms around her as walked. “Give him time to get over the hurt.”

  Cree flinched as though she’d struck him. “I did not mean to say what I said.”

  She glanced at the glass on the table. “You let whiskey speak for you.”

  He ran a hand through his dark curls. “Aye, and I’ll pay for that, too,” he said, feeling the nausea tight in his throat. He sat down, vertigo making him more ill. “There are reasons Reapers don’t drink.” He put his arms on the table and lowered his head to his crossed wrists.

  “I thought about what you said,” she told him.

  The whiskey had reached his parasite and the beast was rebelling against the intoxicating effect. Cree was uncomfortable, the Revenant worm shifting angrily along his right kidney. The last thing he wanted or needed at that moment was to carry on an argument with Caitlin.

  “Lady, I am in no condition to discuss anything coherently with you.”

  “Then listen.”

  “I’m not sure I’ll be able to do that, either.”

  Caitlin craned her neck and looked at his sweaty face. She gasped, her eyes widening “Are you going into Transition?”

  “No,” he said in a reasonable voice. “I am drunk off that inferior liquor of yours.”

  Caitlin straightened. “It’s not my liquor. I don’t drink.”

  “I wish to the gods I hadn’t, either!” he moaned. He shot his arms out to grab the edges of the table to keep from spinning off into space. With his left cheek plastered tightly to the tabletop, he squeezed his eyes shut. “Merciful Alel, what was in that poison?”

  “How many did you have?”

  “I didn’t count.”

  She pursed her lips. “Apparently more than you should have. You can’t stay here all night.”

  “Watch me.” His hands clutched the table so tightly his knuckles bled of their natural coloring.

  “You’ll feel worse if you do,” she warned. “We need to get you to bed.”

  He opened one eye and looked at her. “Lady, if I could walk, it would be one of the Fourteen Miracles of Alel.”

  She smiled at his woebegone expression. “You make it hard to stay mad at you, Reaper.”

  Cree managed to lift his head. He blinked away the vertigo and tried to concentrate on her face. “You are going to stay with me?” he asked, his heart in his soulful gaze.

  “Aye. But the first havoc you wreck on my civilization, I’ll leave your ass so fast...” She got no further for the Reaper’s eyes rolled up and his head crashed to the table with a loud thunk that made her wince with the force.

  “Reapers are not allowed to drink,” Iyan said as he sauntered into the room.

  Caitlin turned. “I can see the reasoning behind that restriction.”

  Iyan grunted. “Too bad Khier didn’t.” He squinted at her. “What did you do to him to make him do such a stupid thing?”

  “You can ask him when he comes to. Can you help me get him to bed?”

  McGregor clenched his jaw as he strode to the table, hefted Cree over his shoulder, adjusted the Reaper’s weight. “Show me where you want me to put his stubborn ass.”

  Caitlin smiled at her nemesis. “I think he’d be a happier camper if he woke beside me come morning, don’t you, Captain?”

  Iyan scowled. “Come morning, we will be near the Serenian outpost at Corinth and you will not be so smug in your position with this Reaper, woman.”

  It was Caitlin’s turn to frown. “And why is that, Captain McGregor?”

  A nasty grin pulled at the corners of Iyan’s mouth. “You’ll meet Princess Raphaella and I would venture to say she’ll have something to say about where Khiershon Cree spends his nights.”

  The woman the Reaper had claimed as his mate answered McGregor’s evil smirk with one of her own. “What she says and what is done are two separate things, Captain.” She arched one thick brow. “Amazeen or not, no woman takes what belongs to me.”

  Iyan blinked. “What belongs to you.”

  “Aye, Captain. Khiershon Cree belongs to me.”

  She turned her back on the Serenian warrior and proceeded him from the room. Iyan stood with his shoulder aching from the Reaper’s dead weight bearing down on it and grimaced.

  But the smile that tugged at his lips was not so much vindictive as confused.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  “By the gods, I hurt,” whispered Khiershon.

  “Drink it all,” Caitlin commanded, holding the seltzer to his lips.

  The bubbling liquid turned his stomach but the Reaper managed to down the vile contents. Wiping a trembling hand across his lips he gagged, burped, then lay back down to curl into a tight fetal position on Caitlin’s bunk, dragging the covers over his head.

  “What you really need is a bit of the hair of the dog that bit you.” Realizing he wouldn’t know what that phrase meant, she added, “Another shot or two of whiskey will help you recover.”

  “No!” He groaned. “Never again!”

  “That’s good to know.”

  “Why?”

  “My father, God be good to him, each of my nine uncles, and all five of my brothers are a bit too fond of the drink. I fully intend to make sure my husband is not.”

  He pulled the cover from one bloodshot eye. “Husband?” he croaked. “As in Joining?”

  She nodded. “As in marriage, aye.”

  He held his breath. “You would legally join with me, Lady? Become my sanctioned mate?”

  Her heart in her gaze, she reached out to smooth his tousled hair. “I would if I were asked in the proper manner.”

  He lowered the covers. “What is the proper manner on your world, Caitlin?”

  “When you’re better, you can research the answer, Reaper. For now, you need to rest.” She started to turn away, but he caught her hand.

  “Tell me.”

  Caitlin sat down beside him. “Every good Catholic lass has a vision in her head of the perfect proposal,” she said. “Our knight in shining armor will first go to our fathers to ask for our hand in marriage and-”

  “I cannot do that.”

  “No, you can’t.”

  “What else?” he asked.

  “Once he receives our father’s blessing, he will then come to his lady and, on bended knee, ask her earnestly for her hand.”

  Cree’s thick brows slanted together. “I must get on my knees to you, Lady?”

  “On one knee.

  “To abase myself.”

  “To show your respect. And the devotion you are willing to extend.”

  He thought about that for a moment then nodded. “Go on.”

  “That’s all there is to it. You ask; I accept; and we are betrothed. If Captain Wellmeyer would agree to marry us...”

  “Any captain of any ship can perform the Joining.”

  “Aye, but...” she hedged, knowing where this was going.

  “Iyan is my friend. If I ask, he will read the words.” He pushed up on the bunk, wincing at the pain in his head. “I assume you have words from your world?”

  She looked down at her hands. “We do, but I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  “You do not believe Joining with me is a good idea?” he asked, hurt turning his mouth hard.

  She would not look at him. “I would be honored to be your wife, Khiershon, but I don’t think McGregor is the right man to perform the ceremony.”

  “Why not?” came the steely demand.

  She shrugged.

  “Why not?” he repeated.

  She lifted her head. “Iyan McGregor hates me, Khiershon. The last thing he will want to do is unite the two of us.”

  He looked into her eyes and saw the hurt there. He probed her thoughts and was surprised to find she had no animosity toward Iyan, only exasperation at the man’s pigheadedness. Having intimate knowledge of just how stubborn Iyan could be, Cree could find no fault in his lady’s assessment
of the man’s nature.

  “Computer!” the Reaper demanded, flinching at the loudness of his own voice.

  “Aye, Commander?” the Com-Link responded.

  “Find Captain McGregor and have him report here immediately.”

  “Aye, aye, Sir!” the computer acknowledged.

  “And find the woman Helen and tell her to report here as well.”

  Caitlin smiled. “Stop reading my thoughts, Reaper.”

  “You have your Maid of Honor.” He smirked. “What is a Best Man?”

  “One of your men who will stand up with you.”

  “A friend,” he said, frowning. “Iyan is my only friend.”

  “If he will perform the ceremony-”

  “He will!”

  “Then he cannot also witness the Joining.”

  Cree reflected on that for a moment. “Sinjin?”

  Caitlin liked the Viragonian warrior. “Aye, he would do quite nicely.”

  “Computer! Have Sinjin Wynth report to me ASAP!”

  “Aye, Commander,” the Com-Link said on a long sigh. “And may I say congratulations, Sir?”

  “I call him Coni,” whispered Caitlin.

  Khiershon Cree smiled despite the hideous pain in his head and the sour stomach that tilted his world off center. “Find your Terran Joining rituals, Coni, and have them ready.”

  “When you make a decision, you don’t let any moss grow under your boot heels, do you, Reaper?”

  “I’ll not give you the chance to change your mind, Lady.”

  “There is the other thing,” she said.

  He sent her an arch look. “What other thing?”

  “I don’t have a wedding dress or a wedding cake, but can I have a wedding reception?” Once more he delved into her thoughts.

  “Coni, assemble the crew in the lounge. Have the molecular duplicator prepare whatever food stuff this lady’s people serve at a Joining.”

  “You are forgetting something, aren’t you, Reaper?”

  He frowned. “What now?”

  “The little matter of you asking and me accepting?”

  A dark infusion of blood stained Cree’s face and he swallowed. “Aye, I had.”

  With a great deal of groaning at the way his world kept slipping off its axis, the Reaper crawled out of the bunk and slipped gracelessly to one knee. He steadied himself against the bunk with one arm and took Caitlin’s hand in his.

  “Lady,” he said and had to force down the bile that kept rising up his gullet. He tried again. “Lady, will you do me the honor of becoming my Lady-Wife?”

  Caitlin cocked her head to one side. “I don’t know,” she replied. “What do you offer me, Reaper?”

  His heart was hammering in his chest and for the first time in his life, Khiershon Cree was unsure of himself. “You’re going to make me work for this, aren’t you?”

  She nodded. “Am I not worth a little effort?”

  The door to Caitlin’s quarters shushed open and Iyan came striding in without bothering to be announced. Upon seeing his friend kneeling before the Terran woman, McGregor stumbled.

  “What is happening here?” the Serenian demanded.

  Cree turned. “I am asking this lady to be my Life-Mate and to legally Join with me.”

  McGregor’s lips parted and his eyes grew wide. “You are joking!”

  “Reapers do not joke.”

  Iyan’s shocked gaze leapt from Cree to Caitlin. When she met his look with quiet assurance, his jaw hardened. “You think you’ve won, don’t you?”

  “She has won this warrior if that is what you mean,” said Cree.

  “Khiershon! This is not-”

  “I would like you to perform the Joining Ceremony.”

  “The gods-be damned, I will not!” Iyan shouted. “I will not sanction such a thing!”

  “No matter that I love him and he loves me?” Caitlin asked.

  “Love!” Iyan scoffed. “What do either of you know of love?”

  Caitlin looked at MacGregor. “What do you know of it, Iyan?”

  That question threw the Serenian. He looked from Caitlin to the Reaper and back again, searching both faces for something he desperately wanted to see and could not find. There was no hesitation; no uncertainty; no fear on either face.

  “This is a mistake, Khiershon.”

  “Was it a mistake for my Bloodsire to take a Terran woman as his Life-Mate?” Cree asked, knowing how much Iyan hero-worshipped Kamerone Cree.

  “You see what evil that decision caused the Prime Reaper.”

  “He is happy with his lady,” Cree said. “Can you not wish me such happiness with mine?”

  A groan of frustration ripped from McGregor. “This is a mistake!” he repeated.

  “We don’t believe it is.”

  “Woman, you do not...” The Com-Link broke into the angry words announcing the arrival of Helen Lutz and Sinjin Wynth..

  “Enter!” Cree ordered.

  Helen came up short when she saw the Reaper kneeling before Caitlin, but knew at once what was happening. She cast a quick look at the Viragonian warrior and found Wynth staring wide-eyed at the Reaper.

  “You have always stood beside me, Iyan. Stand by me now and accept my decision as being what is right for me.”

  Iyan wanted to shout. He wanted to slam his fist into the Reaper’s jaw and knock him unconscious, lock him in a containment cell until they reached Corinth, only a few hours away.

  “I will be a good wife to him, Captain,” Caitlin said, drawing Sinjin’s stunned stare to her.

  Khiershon turned from Iyan’s angry face to look up into Caitlin’s tearful one. “You asked what I had to offer, milady?” he said in a soft voice. “This is my answer: I have my love and respect for you. I have the might of my sword hand to protect you and the strength of my back to provide for you. My body is yours and will be yours alone until the day the Gatherer calls me to Her. I offer my shoulder for your comfort and my arms for your security.” He brought her hand to his lips and placed a kiss on her palm. His gaze lifted to hers through the thick sweep of his lashes, he placed her hand against his chest and nestled it there. “And my heart I place into your keeping for all time. I will be a good husband to you, Caitlin Cree.”

  Iyan moaned, squeezed his eyes shut and let his chin fall to his chest in defeat. Putting his hands on his hips, he shook his head in disbelief. “This is a mistake,” he said for the third time.

  “They are Joining?” Sinjin whispered to Helen.

  “Looks that way,” Helen answered. She grinned broadly at Caitlin.

  “By the gods, but the Princess ain’t gonna like this!” said Sinjin.

  There were varying degrees of disbelief and shock at the Joining that took place in the Orion’s lounge that 10 th day of July. Less than an half hour from Corinth, the ship’s engines were idled as a reluctant Iyan McGregor mouthed the unfamiliar Terran words that bound his life-long friend to Caitlin Kelly. Though he found the words he was forced to recite beautiful and touching, McGregor believed no good would come of this hasty union.

  “Now, I pronounce you man and wife,” the Serenian said and looked away from the monitor.

  The women of the Orion tensed, waiting for the kiss that would seal the bargain.

  The men of The Revenant tensed, as well, wondering why there was such charged emotion suddenly invading the lounge.

  Cree turned to the woman who belonged to him for all time and gently gripped her shoulders. “I have no Joining bracelet to give you, milady, but when we arrive on Corinth, I will procure the most beautiful, the most precious of metals to have emblazoned with my family name so all who look upon you will know you are mine for eternity.”

  Caitlin smiled. The Reaper’s words might have been too possessive for some of the women gathered. She glimpsed Marti’s pursed lips and Cathy’s arched brow. But to her, the words seared her very soul and gave her a feeling of such contentment she was hard pressed not to cry.

  “I have something f
or you.” She turned to Helen who extended her hand toward Caitlin.

  Khiershon released Caitlin’s shoulders so she could take the object from her friend.

  “This belonged to my father.” Caitlin took Khiershon’s left hand and slipped the wide gold band over his ring finger.

  Cree looked down at the ring and lifted his hand to look at the emblem. “What is this, milady?”

  “It was Da’s wedding band. My great-great grandmother gave it to her husband on their wedding day and my great-grandmother gave it to my great-grandfather on theirs. My grandmother and my mother bestowed it upon their menfolk on this wonderful day and now I am giving it to you. It is called a Claddagh.”

  The Reaper turned it so Iyan could see. “What does this say to you, Iyan?”

  Iyan lowered his gaze to the ring. He shrugged. “That she has placed a yoke of ownership on you.”

  “Two hands holding one heart,” Cree said. He turned to Caitlin. “The crown? What does it symbolize, Beloved?”

  Iyan winced at the term of endearment, so uncharacteristic of Khiershon Cree.

  “The heart stands for love. The hands are for friendship and the crown is for loyalty,” Caitlin replied. “My grandmother, Idella, once wrote:

  Without love a marriage is not alive.

  Without friendship, a burden will it be.

  Without loyalty it will never survive,

  But if you are blessed to have all three,

  You know your marriage will thrive.”

  Cree reached out to cup his wife’s cheek. “Thank you, Caitlin. I will never remove this symbol and this I swear to you: I pledge my heart, my hands, and my loyalty to you, milady. For me, there will never be another.”

  A muscle jumped in Iyan’s cheek as the Reaper drew the Terran woman into his arms and covered her mouth with his. The kiss stirred something deep in Iyan’s soul and he had to look away. A deep sense of betrayal and loss settled near his heart and the chill of it spread through his soul.

  The women of the Orion sighed deeply. The men of the Revenant shuffled uneasily.

  “A toast!” Lisa called out.

  “Aye! A toast!” a few of the others agreed.

  Glasses of champagne were brought from the molecular duplicator and handed to everyone assembled. The warriors glanced suspiciously at the bubbling liquor, but were curious to know how it tasted. The women held their glasses aloft then looked first to Sinjin, who had no idea what was expected to him, then to Helen as maid of honor.