IntimateEnemy

by Jocelyn Modo

  Overcome by her need to bond, she didn’t notice the tall, dual-blooded male until he stepped up to her. With a gasp, she stumbled back into the wall and looked up and then up again.

  He didn’t belong to her, wasn’t her intimate, she thought with a relieved sigh. But her relief was short lived when the large, dark-haired male leaned down into her and inhaled, his sharp nose and soft lips grazing her neck.

  She jumped. Winced.

  “Back off before I make you a eunuch,” she said, packing power behind her words despite her intimidation.

  He took a step back, one eyebrow arching up. “Have you castrated many males, kitchka?” he asked, using the Nashete term of endearment for sweet or loving heart. The laughter in his voice pissed her off.

  “Yeah, I have. Lots and lots. And don’t call me kitchka.” She lifted her chin, forced herself to meet his space-black eyes despite the lie. Truth be told, she was always the one who ended up curled up, bleeding in a corner. But she would never tell him about growing up with an abusive father. This male may not be her intimate, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t attempt to force a physical bond between them.

  That’s exactly what her father had tried to force between her and his business associate Oquin Pem, a male twice her age and half her intelligence. And now that she had become a legal adult at twenty years old, her father could marry her to whomever he chose. Her stomach lurched as she thought of the handsome, shallow male whose credit was inherited rather than earned. If not for her father’s business acumen, Oquin would have lost everything by now. Still, he wanted more in return for the use of his credit. He wanted Azure in his bed.

  And so she had run.

  “My name’s Wharm. I am here on behalf of my brother Lone, your intimate. May I ask your name?”

  She straightened her spine and said, “I don’t want him.”

  His smile melted, sliding into a deeply lined frown. “You could do worse than Lone, worse than a dual blood, believe—”

  “I don’t care about that,” she said in a rush. “Look, I just achieved adult status days ago. I want time. I need…” Her words trailed off as her cheeks blushed hot. Why would she tell a stranger her desires, her dreams? No way in the unseen universe would he understand.

  The male scratched at his dark, closely cropped hair. “I guess it’s true what they say about the compatibility of intimates. My brother—let’s just say he’s not looking for a commitment either.”

  “Good. I’m glad.” She wrapped her arms around herself and rubbed her bare arms, trying to remove the chill that had seeped into her bones when he’d implied her intimate didn’t want her. Never mind that she didn’t want him. She’d just assumed, expected that he would desire her. Was there something wrong with her? Something he’d seen and hadn’t liked? “So why are you here?”

  “There’s a question,” Wharm said.

  “Just forget it. Go. Leave me alone.” She waved at him, trying to appear flippant. Wharm snatched her hand out of the air and brought it to his mouth. He kissed her knuckles. The barest of touches. A gentlemanly gesture given to draw her attention to his words.

  “Lone is…misguided. He sent my brother Kanaen and me on a mission to locate you…so he can avoid you.”

  “Oh.” She stared awkwardly down the hall at a lifter as its doors slid open and a happy Vitca couple stumbled out, kissing. “Well, good. Tell him where I am then. Because we want the same thing.”

  Wharm gave her a nod but didn’t leave. Azure refused to open her door with the large dual-blooded male still standing there in front of her. A thought hit her. A dual blood might know the leader of the underground union movement. “D-do you know Trius Daylor?”

  The male’s eyes widened, his dense brows rose. “Why do you ask?”

  “You do, don’t you?” Azure’s eyes suddenly stung with tears of hope and relief.

  “Yes. What do you want with him?”

  She blinked fast, trying to stem the flow of tears. “I think he might be able to help me.”

  His gaze grew intense as he took a step closer. He lowered his voice while a group of rowdy Nashete females sauntered past. “What do you need help with, kitchka?”

  Meeting his dark gaze, she prayed to the gods of the unseen universe that she could trust him. “He has a reputation for helping females disappear. My cousin is in an abusive marriage with a male who is not her intimate.”

  “And you?” he asked. “Do you wish to disappear?”

  “My father wants to marry me to his friend Oquin, a male I despise.” She pressed her hands against the lumpy, recycled plastic wall to steady herself when her legs began to shake.

  There was a long, drawn-out pause before Wharm responded. “Not that you aren’t a visual delight, but why does this friend of your father’s want you when you are not his intimate?”

  She shuddered, remembering Corra’s bruises, the broken bones and bloody lips. More, she remembered her father’s indifference. “My father is my cousin’s guardian too. Oquin knows about the abuse she suffers. He knows he’ll be able to do anything he wants to me. Use me as his sex slave. My father will do nothing because he wants Oquin’s business.”

  Wharm’s hands fisted at his sides. “What makes you think this Oquin would use you as a sex slave?”

  Azure couldn’t help dropping her gaze as she forced herself to tell him. “He told me. Left nothing to the imagination.”

  After a brief pause, Wharm asked, “How did you learn about Trius? He’s not exactly a public figure.”

  “I’ve been searching for someone who can help Corra ever since she was married. Then I heard about Trius—he will help us. I know he will. He’s courageous. Has a sense of justice. When I started to transition into adulthood, I knew time was running out. I have to find him right away.”

  “Hell of a risk. Running away from your father. If he catches you, he could ask for your death as punishment.”

  She shrugged. “I’d do anything for Corra. And I don’t want to become anyone’s slave. Will you help me find Trius?”

  With his thick arms crossed over his broad chest, Wharm growled low in his throat, prompting Azure to step to the side and glance down the hall to check for an escape route.

  “Don’t be scared of me. I am…frustrated with you and with my brother. The unseen gods have blessed you both, giving you to each other, and you…turn away, ask for another male’s assistance.” He rubbed at the furrows in his broad forehead. “But because of who you are to my brother, I will help you. Even if that means bringing you Trius and not your intimate.”

  Azure shook with relief, her whole body reacting to the new hope she’d found with her intimate’s brother. “You don’t know what that would mean to—”

  “I’m not making any promises. Trius has his own agenda, and more often than not, it doesn’t mesh with what others want.”

  “I understand. You don’t know how much it means to me that you’d even try.”

  He gave her a solemn nod. “Confirmed or not, you are my brother’s intimate. I will help you in any way I can.”

  Meeting his fathomless eyes, she said, “Thank you.”

  “Don’t thank me yet.” He turned and walked away, his large, muscular frame filling the hallway, his stride long and assured.

  When he stepped onto the lifter, Azure held a much steadier hand in front of the scanner. The door to her room slid open and she stepped inside.

  Small—no bigger than her walk-in closet at home—the room held a bed built for two and a little cubby containing a toilet and shower. Didn’t matter. Azure would rather live in a hole than return to her immense home to be sold to the highest bidder.

  She slumped against the wall and slid down to the cold, metal-mesh floor, bringing her legs up to her chest so she could rest her head on her knees. Her heart slowed and her muscles relaxed. For the first time since she’d run, a sense of calm filled her.

  An ally like Wharm didn’t come along every day, and with him came Trius. The le
gend. The savior of the downtrodden, the weak and the defenseless. She would convince him to help her and Corra. She had to.

  Thoughts of her intimate invaded her mind. If he was anything like his brother, she might marry him to foil her father’s plans—if he would help save Corra—but her intimate didn’t want Azure so that wasn’t an option. She’d caught only a glimpse of him, but he at least looked like his brother—big and broad with dark eyes and midnight hair. He smelled even better.

  What would he taste like, feel like?

  Azure closed her eyes as desire licked over her and her body grew hot with need. Her trinity-of-being demanded she leave her hiding place, track down and initiate the physical bond with her intimate. Yet fear of rejection held her in place as securely as any physical bindings.

  * * * * *

  Lone forced himself to remain still while his heart raced and his blood seemed to burn him from the inside out. Gods unseen, he wanted to locate his intimate and lay her down beneath his raging body until they were both sated into oblivion.

  His mind, heart and body were in agreement, meaning his trinity-of-being would eventually wear him down. That is, if he didn’t stay away from her, which for now meant staying on the lower floors where her scent had all but faded.

  For a distraction as much as anything, Lone wove his way through a crowd of business males like him and approached his friend Trius. The mountain-sized male leaned against the far wall, reading the night’s itinerary with a relaxed slope of his shoulders—a rare sight.

  “You look like you’re having…fun.” Lone tried to mimic Trius’ comfortable pose but couldn’t pull it off. Damned if his skin didn’t feel as though it had shrunk two sizes and was in the process of constricting him to death like a snake suffocating his prey. He didn’t like feeling hunted.

  Trius looked up and gave Lone his infamous half-smile, a sardonic twist of lips that made his friend look more ruined than happy.

  “Maybe this time talk of peace will grow into action.”

  “Always the optimist.”

  Trius gave him a droll stare. “You think?”

  “Uh.” Lone cleared his throat uncomfortably. “Did you turn off your comm? I tried to contact you when we arrived, but no answer.”

  Trius shrugged. “I like to think of the peace talks as a break from reality. I prefer to be out of the loop while I’m here.”

  “Got it.” Lone frowned. “Just out of curiosity, who’s covering for you in union territory?”

  Trius pocketed his hands. “The members of our movement are not children, Lone. They can look after themselves for a standard week.”

  “If you say so,” Lone said, but even he could hear the doubt in his voice.

  He didn’t blame his friend for wanting a break from all the responsibility heaped upon his head by the rapidly growing group of unionists that included Lone and his brothers—those who refused to fight on either side of the war. Members of the union came together at undisclosed places to work toward ending the war. And they succeeded, doing more work than all of the government-sanctioned peace talks combined. Yet the union movement was nothing without its leader, Trius Daylor.

  “Tell you what,” Trius said, turning to look at him. “Why don’t you take over for, let’s say, the next few weeks and then see how you feel about a couple days’ vacation?”

  Lone held his hands up, palms out. “No offense intended. You want some alone time? I’m heading in the opposite direction.”

  Trius rolled his eyes at him. “Dramatic as always, good blood.”

  Ignoring the “good blood” compliment, Lone arched a brow. “You’re calling me dramatic? After your little rant?”

  Trius laughed, a quick, sharp bark of laughter as if his amusement had exploded out of him without his intent or permission, a brief bit of happiness that had snuck past all the pain packed into the male’s tall frame.

  “Point taken,” he said, straightening up off the wall. “Looks like it’s time to take a seat. You staying?”

  Lone looked around at the business people and politicians folding their bodies into hover chairs for a discussion on the validity of reinstating a divided-but-equal society. “I think I’ll skip it. I’m not in the best frame of mind for irrational, unreasonable arguments.”

  “I don’t blame you for passing over this one but you shouldn’t miss the concert tonight. Musicians from both races will be performing together for the first time in our lifetime. Should be something that will speak to all of our trinity-of-beings.”

  “I’d love to but, despite all my connections in the music industry, I couldn’t score a ticket.” Lone and his brothers ran a very successful musical instrument company that they marketed under their mother’s Vitca name when in that territory and their father’s Nashete name when home. Still, a concert that combined the two cultures was unheard of because even artists suffered from racism.

  Trius flashed him that forged, lopsided grin again. “I took care of it. Concierge should have left tickets in your room. Go make sure. If they’re not there, come find me. I’ll be here for the next half hour.”

  Lone felt his eyebrows rise high on his forehead. The arts had suffered dramatically since the war, both sides pouring all of their resources into killing instead of living. But like Trius, all citizens craved a break from reality.

  “Damn. Thanks, Trius. Appreciate it.”

  “No problem,” Trius said, taking a seat in the back row. “Just go check to make sure the tickets are there, okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m on it.” He grasped his friend’s forearm before heading up to his room. Tickets to the concert of a lifetime. Sometimes Trius truly lived up to his legendary status.

  Lone’s excitement soon morphed into agitation.

  Shit. In his excitement, he’d forgotten to stay on the lower floors. The higher the lifter took him, the more Lone’s senses burned with the knowledge that he was moving closer and closer to his intimate. By the time he reached the next floor, he was in a near frenzy to find her.

  His body was hard and needy. His mind spun with questions. His spirit reached unseen through the seen universe to find her, bond with her. As if in a trance, he followed his overwhelmed senses to a door belonging to a room that was not his own.

  She was inside, his female. Just beyond the peach-tinted metal door marked as room 4475. Closing his eyes, he weaved on his feet, overcome with longing, with passion that could be fulfilled only by her.

  He didn’t hit the buzzer. No need.

  Their bond had already begun to form. He sensed her on the other side of the thin door, considering if she would answer, deciding if she would let him in.

  The sound of the door whooshing wide released the succulent, sugary scent of her and he opened his eyes. He looked into the Vitca-pale face of his intimate. Her light-pink lips were slightly parted, flashing him her teeth and tongue—both, he wanted to make immediate use of. Her eyes, large and fawn yellow, were wide with fear. Her light, crystal-blue hair curled around her face and shoulders, decadently soft, tempting him to touch.

  Gods, everything about her enticed him. Only her obvious fear and his great well of restraint kept him from reaching out and devouring her there in front of anyone who happened to pass by.

  “Invite me in, my intimate,” he demanded.

  She stepped back and, in an achingly feminine voice that was barely audible said, “Please come in, Lone.”

  He stepped into her room and into her warm presence, his arms enfolding her against his painfully hard body, his head dropping so that he could press kisses to the sinfully soft skin on her neck, shoulder, chest.

  The door hissed closed behind him as he walked his female backward toward her bed. Four steps and they were there. Her legs hit the lumpy hover mattress and she stiffened in his arms, her heart thumping so hard he could feel the beat against his lips as he kissed his way back up her neck.

  “What do you fear, intimate? Our trinity-of-beings fit perfectly. We are truly a matched pair.
There is no denying what belongs between us.”

  “But you tried.” Her soft voice held a sharp note of sadness, of hurt. “Your brother told me you don’t want me.”

  He winced. Damn. Wharm must have found her, warned her off him just as he’d asked.

  He took a step back and cradled her face in his hands so he could lift her stubborn chin and coax her into meeting his gaze. “I was foolish to resist you. Know that I will live my life making up for the hurt I did you…” It suddenly occurred to him that he didn’t even know her name.

  He leaned into her, pressed the lightest of kisses on her plush mouth.

  “What is your name, my female?”

  She looked at him through the veil of her blue lashes, distrust easily read in her citrine eyes.

  He waited her out though, refusing to break eye contact until she gave him what he wanted.

  Chapter Three

  “Azure,” she said, looking away from his intense, ebony gaze. “My name’s Azure.” Their bonding had begun. She could feel her intimate on every level, buckling her knees, breaking into her heart, mingling his thoughts with hers.

  And she sensed the exact moment when he found the same rejection in her mind for him as he’d had for her. Lone stilled. His black eyes flashed over her face as he reassessed, reevaluated her with this newfound information he’d gained through their unseen connection.

  He ducked his head and rasped, “Does my dual blood bother you?” then licked along the outer edge of her ear.

  She gasped for breath. The perfect, complementary, contradictory scents of his mixed blood dazzled her senses.

  “No,” she groaned. “No.”

  “Then why?” He nipped at her neck, a punishment that brought her pleasure such as she had never imagined. Little tingles raced over her skin.

  Instead of answering, she asked, “W-why don’t you want me?” Her voice came out breathy, wanton and so unlike her that she felt alien in her own body.

  He took her hand in his and guided it to the hard bulge between his legs. “Does it feel like I don’t want you?”