But his prayer was cut off because just before he could raise his hand to knock, the door slid open revealing a red-haired, full-figured female he recognized as a friend of Lizabeth’s. He couldn’t remember her name, but he knew she was named for some kind of Earth animal.
“Oh, hello!” The girl looked surprised and then pleased to see him. “Lone, right?”
“Yes, I am Lone.” Lone bowed to her formally. “Forgive me, but your name escapes me. I know it is an Earth creature. Are you Bird? Or possibly Rat?”
“Close.” She laughed. “I’m Kat but spelled with a 'K,' not a 'c' like cat the furry Earth pet. Anyway, come in—I was just going out to find you.”
“You were?” Lone frowned as he stepped inside. “Why?”
“Because it’s about time the two of you sat down and talked,” Kat said firmly, ushering him into the living area. Lizabeth was sitting there on the couch, looking so lovely Lone felt his heart seize in his chest.
Her long dark hair was damp, as though it had been freshly washed and she was dressed in a long, lacy white gown. A white lace robe that went with it was belted modestly around her waist. She looked up at him, her big gray-green-blue eyes meeting his for the first time in over a week.
“Hello, Lone,” she whispered, in a low, hoarse voice. “How have you been?”
“Worried about you.” Lone came over to her. He wanted to sink to his knees at her feet but somehow he restrained himself. She might fear you now, he reminded himself. “May I sit by you, Lizabeth?” he asked quietly.
In answer, she patted the cushions beside her.
“Well, I think my job here is done.” Kat gave them a satisfied look and nodded to herself. “Remember,” she said to Lizabeth. “You have to have some contact if you want to get rid of the eye-spikes.”
“The what?” Lone frowned at her but Lizabeth only shook her head.
“Never mind. Thank you, Kat, for all your help.” Her usually lovely alto voice was still that same, hoarse whisper. As Kat nodded and left the suite, Lone turned back to Lizabeth, concerned.
“What’s wrong with your voice?” he asked, frowning. “Have you had a cold while you were in the med center?”
“You don’t know?” Lizabeth looked at him in apparent surprise. “I thought Commander Sylvan would have told you everything about my…my diagnosis.”
Lone was becoming more and more worried but he tried to keep his voice quiet. He had learned in his support group that it wasn’t uncommon for a female to fear her Kindred for a while after she had seen him go into Rage—especially if he had done violent things to protect her. It might take Lizabeth a while to believe that he would never, ever hurt her and had only gone into Rage because she was threatened. Therefore, he kept his face and voice calm though it wasn’t easy.
“No,” he said. “A patient’s medical history and records are private. You and I are not…formally mated so Commander Sylvan would only say that you were getting better and that you…” He cleared his throat. “You didn’t want to see me.”
“More like I didn’t want you to see me in the state I was in. The state I’m still in,” Lizabeth whispered.
“Then…you don’t fear me? You weren’t avoiding me because of all the terrible things you saw me do when I…when I came to get you?” Lone asked tentatively.
“No.” Lizabeth shook her head. “I know it sounds awful but part of me wished—still wishes—that I could have been the one to do them.” She put a hand to her throat. “My voice is hoarse because I ruptured some vocal chords screaming when they were…were torturing me.”
“Gods!” Lone ran both hands through his hair, his intention to be calm and soothing forgotten. “I’m so sorry, Lizabeth,” he exclaimed, getting up and beginning to pace in front of the couch, mainly because he couldn’t hold still. “It’s all my fault. I should have gotten to you sooner! I should have stopped them! I—”
“Stop.” Lizabeth put out a hand and caught him by the wrist. The touch of her soft, small hand on his sent a shiver down Lone’s spine. He stopped pacing and looked at her, wishing she would touch him more.
“Lizabeth,” he said hoarsely. “I am so damn sorry. I failed you.”
“You did everything you could—you saved me,” she whispered gently. “It could have been so much worse, Lone. I don’t blame you—don’t blame you for any of it.”
“I blame myself,” he said savagely. Sighing angrily, he sank back down onto the couch. “You know, I’ve spent the past week or so in a support group for males who have gone into Rage and committed terrible acts. I thought I’d come to terms with what I did.” He shook his head. “Now I just want to do it all again…but worse this time.”
“I know how you feel,” Lizabeth whispered. “And no, I’m not afraid of you Lone. Just…” She sighed. “Just afraid of what you think you feel.”
“I don’t think, I know.” Lone took her hands in his, looking earnestly into her eyes. “Lizabeth, I love you. I have for years now—it’s just that I only recently felt free to tell you so.”
“Well…thank you.” She shifted uncomfortably and he could feel uncertainty and disbelief coming from her side of their partial bond.
“Why, Lizabeth?” he asked, addressing her emotions instead of her words. “Why won’t you believe that I truly love you? That I want to spend the rest of my life with you?”
“Because you have so much life left ahead of you,” she said, frowning. “Because I’ve been down this road before—I mean, I’ve dated a younger man—and it didn’t end well. I can’t help thinking…” She sighed. “Can’t help thinking it’s going to end badly this time too.”
“Tell me about it—this previous relationship,” Lone said earnestly. “Let me understand what happened to you before so I can assure you it won’t happen again—not with me.”
“It’s an old story—it happened years ago,” she protested.
“Clearly it’s still with you, though,” Lone said. He frowned at her sternly. “I promised myself I wouldn’t leave you until I got answers from you tonight, Lizabeth. So please, talk.”
“It was before I met my ex-husband, Bernard,” she began tentatively. “I was…teaching a class at a local college as a favor to a friend. She had to leave halfway through the semester and she couldn’t find anyone to take over. The law is my first love but I also enjoy sharing it with others so…”
“So you agreed to teach for her. Go on.” Lone made a motion with one hand.
“So…” Lizabeth sighed. “There was a student in the class—a boy named Arturo. Well, I say ‘boy’ but he was probably twenty-three or four. He just seemed so much younger because I was already in my thirties. Anyway, he came up to me after the class and asked some pretty insightful questions. He was flirty too and I felt…well, flattered I suppose.” She gave a whispered laugh that was self-deprecating and then winced and put a hand to her throat. “Sorry, I’m going to have to cut this short.”
“Because it hurts to talk.” Lone lifted one big hand and stroked lightly over the side of her neck. He was glad when she didn’t pull away from his touch. “Now that we’re closer I feel your pain. I’m sorry, Lizabeth.”
“It’s all right.” She shrugged. “Anyway, Arturo and I had a relationship. I told myself it was no big deal—that I was just having fun. But I was lying to myself—I was actually falling for him pretty hard.”
“And did he love you as well?” The thought of her loving another male was painful but he had to know.
“I thought he did,” Lizabeth whispered. She looked down at her hands. “That was, until I saw him making out with a pretty little co-ed that couldn’t have been more than twenty. I got a little closer and heard them talking about me. He was…” She coughed dryly. “He was telling her how he had me wrapped around his finger—how his grade for the class was an ‘easy A’ because I couldn’t get enough of him.”
“The bastard!” Lone growled indignantly. “How dare he use you like that?”
She sh
rugged again. “Some guys are like that. It was my fault really—I should have known better that to get involved with a student.”
“What did you do?” Lone asked. “Did you confront him?”
“No. I went to the Dean and explained the situation and asked him to have someone else take over the class for finals.” She shrugged. “I heard through the grapevine that he failed the final exam—apparently he hadn’t studied because he thought he had a ‘sure thing.’ So much for an easy A.” She laughed again, dryly. “Anyway, I think that’s why my next relationship was with a much older man. Bernard was twelve years my senior and I thought I was safe because of that.”
“But then the two of you divorced,” Lone murmured—he knew this much at least, though Lizabeth didn’t like to talk about her failed marriage.
“Yes, we divorced. Because, again, he left me for a younger woman.” She gave a whispery sigh. “Do you see why it’s so hard for me to believe you’ll stick around for the long run, Lone? I’ve been stung before—twice. I don’t want to go through that kind of pain again.”
“You’re already in pain. I would never add to it,” he said quietly. “In fact, I hope you’ll allow me to help alleviate some of it.”
“You’re talking about trying to heal me, right?” She looked at him uncertainly and Lone felt her nervousness through their link.
“Yes,” he said simply. “Will you let me try?”
“What—you’re not even going to try to convince me you’re the loyal, faithful type who’ll never leave me?” She raised an eyebrow at him.
Lone sighed. “There’s nothing I can say to you that will prove my devotion—or our connection—as strongly as healing you, Lizabeth. I will tell you one thing, though. Do you remember you said to me you weren’t certain I really wanted to help you through your needing because you’d read that loners like me—Twin Kindred without twins—often don’t have sexual feelings at all?”
She nodded. “Of course I remember.
“Well, that was true for me…until I met you,” Lone told her.
“What do you mean?” She regarded him through narrowed eyes. “You honestly never had any interest in women before you met me?”
“Never.” He shook his head. “I knew I couldn’t bond a female to me—or thought I knew it—because I didn’t have a twin. But it didn’t bother me because I never had much interest in anything sexual.” He looked her in the eyes. “Until I met you. Lizabeth, I have wanted you literally from the first moment I laid eyes on you. What do you humans call that? Love at first look?”
“Love at first sight,” she corrected him. “But it’s usually considered a kind of intense infatuation.”
“Not in this case,” he said firmly. “Do you know I got hard just from shaking your hand in our first meeting? That had never happened to me before—I didn’t know what to do.”
A small smile quirked the corners of her lush mouth.
“I do remember thinking you seemed kind of distracted during that first meeting.”
“Because I was! I could scarcely think—all the blood that should have gone to my brain had rushed to my shaft instead. I had the most intense fantasies of you,” Lone admitted. “Of taking you right on the desk…or dropping to my knees to taste your pussy then and there…”
But he seemed to have said something wrong because the desire and interest he’d felt growing in her as he described how he’d fallen for her abruptly died and was replaced with a feeling of sadness and loss.
Lone leaned forward anxiously, cupping her cheek in his palm.
“What is it, Lizabeth?” he asked earnestly. “Did I offend you? What did I say that made you suddenly so sad?”
“I…can’t explain it.” She pulled away from his touch and crossed her legs protectively. “Maybe…maybe you’d just better leave.”
“Not until I at least try to heal you,” Lone said, frowning. “At least your throat—you can’t argue in court like that.”
“But how can you possibly heal my throat?” she objected. “I know you said you took that healing serum so you could heal superficial wounds for me but this is internal. Dr. Sylvan told me the only thing they could do would be to give me a voice implant and I don’t want that.”
Lone thought of the Goddess’s words to him. “That which was broken may always be healed. If you have the patience and devotion to heal it.”
And Gods, how he wanted that—how he wanted to heal the woman he loved and show her his complete and utter devotion.
“I know it doesn’t seem possible,” he murmured. “But please, Lizabeth—just let me try.”
“Well…” She seemed to consider, then shrugged. “I guess it can’t hurt. What do you want to do?”
“This.” Reaching across to her, Lone took her by the hips and lifted her easily into his lap.
“Oh!” Lizabeth’s eyes got wide. “Lone, You can’t just pick me up like that— you’re going to hurt your back!”
“My back is fine—I just need to hold you.” He honestly didn’t understand her consternation. Either she underestimated his strength or she overestimated her own weight. Possibly only dating human men all her life had given her a skewed perception of masculinity and the male sex in general. For that, he was sorry. How difficult it must have been for her—being with males that could and would hurt and leave her at any time—males who were too weak to lift her or to love her the way she needed and deserved to be loved.
Well, she wasn’t dealing with a human now. Lone was Kindred and he swore to himself and to the Goddess that he would do his best to heal the woman he loved and to do right by her. He would never leave her or forsake her for another woman—for him, there was no other woman. Lizabeth was it—the only one he wanted. The only one he had ever wanted or would ever want.
He just hoped he could show her that and make her believe how much he loved her.
“Lone…” she said, shifting uncomfortably. “Is this really necessary? I feel like a little girl sitting on Santa’s lap.”
“Santa’s lap, hmm?” He laughed softly. That’s right—she might be older than me, as she keeps on saying but I’m bigger than her—much bigger. Big enough to make her feel small and vulnerable when he held her like this so he had to be especially gentle, he reminded himself.
“Lone—” she started again but he cut her off with a kiss.
Not to her mouth—though he longed to taste her lush lips again, that wasn’t what he was after. He wanted with his whole heart to heal her—to erase the marks of pain and torture the damned Friezens had left on her before he could get to her. She was his mate—his love—his heart. He wanted to make her whole.
Please, Goddess, he prayed as he pressed another slow, gentle kiss to the side of her injured throat. Please let me heal Lizabeth. Let me show her how much I love her.
And he kissed her again.
Twenty-Three
Lizabeth stiffened at first when she felt the soft, warm press of his lips to her throat. But then she felt something else—an outpouring of love and devotion and a genuine desire to heal was coming from Lone, through the partial bond they shared.
He cares, she thought wonderingly as the loving emotions strengthened and intensified while he bathed her throat in kisses. He’s really sincere about this—about how he feels for me.
For the first time since their bond had been inadvertently formed, Lizabeth began to let down her guard. She allowed herself to relax into the big Kindred’s arms and moaned softly as he stroked her back and pulled her close to him, bending his head to kiss and caress her wounded neck as though he couldn’t get enough of her.
A healing warmth seemed to flow from his mouth, a soothing energy which calmed the constant, low-level pain she’d been in ever since screaming her voice almost entirely away in the awful Friezen breeding hut. It was almost like Lone was putting some kind of magical medicine on her skin—a medicine which penetrated straight to the wounded tissues and soothed away the damage that had been caused there. But
all he was doing was kissing her—how could that be?
But it wasn’t just warmth and healing she was feeling, Lizabeth soon realized. Her neck and throat had always been very sensitive, erotic spots for her. The way Lone was kissing—and now licking and sucking her tender flesh—was translating to a different kind of heat. A sexual kind of heat.
But that’s impossible, she reminded herself. I can’t feel anything down there now—the nerves were cut and cauterized.
Which was true, but just because her clit was now apparently numb forever, it didn’t stop the rest of her body from reacting to the big Kindred’s touch. Lizabeth felt her already sensitive breasts and nipples become tight. And her skin felt hot and tingly all over, almost as though she was aching for his touch. It was similar to the way she’d felt when she had a needing attack but this was less urgent…and more pleasurable.
“Lone,” she murmured, shifting on his lap and was surprised to hear her voice come out sounding normal. “Lone?” she said again, louder this time.
“Mmm?” He apparently didn’t want to stop kissing her. He ran his hot tongue from the hollow of her throat all the way up to the ticklish, tender spot behind her right ear, his big hands roving restlessly over her back and hips.
God! Lizabeth was tempted to give in to him then and there and just let him keep tasting her but she had to talk to him.
“Lone,” she said more forcefully. “Lone, listen to me!”
At last he pulled back and she saw that his gray eyes were heavy-lidded with desire.
“Yes, Mistress?” he murmured and Lizabeth felt a little jolt of pure lust run through her.
“You don’t have to call me that—we’re not back at the Tower,” she reminded him.
“Sorry. I…kind of liked it. Liked being your Novice and serving you.” He raised an eyebrow at her. “Does it bother you?”
“Well…” Lizabeth nibbled her bottom lip for a moment as she considered. “No, I guess not.” Actually, it kind of made her hot but that was beside the point right now. “Listen,” she said to him, trying to get back to the moment at hand. “Listen to me talk—I’m talking normally. And my throat doesn’t hurt at all anymore!”
Instructing the Novice Page 27