“What?” Sophie blinked back the tears that kept threatening to blind her. “What are you talking about?”
“Hold still.” He lifted the knife again but this time it was directed below her waist.
“What are you doing? Let me up! Let me go!” Sophie thrashed wildly but his grip was unbreakable. Suddenly there was a sharp, stinging pain along the side of her knee—the feeling of cold metal slicing through flesh. My God, he’s like a serial killer! He’s going to cut me up into little pieces! Panic rose up and overwhelmed her and for a moment everything went gray.
When she came to—only a few seconds later, she was sure—he was leaning over her again with something in his hand.
“Do you see this?” he demanded, showing her a small chunk of bloody metal.
Sophie nodded doubtfully. At least it’s not the knife—but what is it?
“It’s a marker,” he said, answering her unspoken question. “It’s how we were able to track you even after my father lost his lock on your warrior’s mind.” With a contemptuous flick of his wrist, he threw it away and Sophie heard it clatter and clang off the metal wall.
“Why…why did you do that?” she whispered through numb lips. “I don’t understand.”
“Neither do I.” He shook his head. “But as you’re not the one we’re looking for, I see no need for you to die in agony and torment just because my father demands it.” He frowned. “The murderous bastard has enough pain to feast on—he doesn’t need to glut himself on yours too.”
She felt numb all over. “So instead you’re going to kill me quickly.”
“I’m not going to kill you at all.” His face twisted again and for a moment his red-on-black eyes looked almost human. “I can’t. You look too much like her.”
There was real pain in his tone and for a moment Sophie almost felt sorry for him. Who was the woman he was talking about and what had happened to her? And what must it be like for him to have the horrible AllFather as his father? How had he stayed sane, being raised in the presence of such evil and terror? Then her instincts of self preservation kicked in.
“Please,” she whispered, barely daring to hope. “Does that mean you’ll let me go? Will…will you take me back to Tranq Prime? Will you—”
A grinding, shrieking noise, like metal being ripped apart, cut through her words.
Xairn gave her a humorless smile. “I would, but it appears I won’t have to. Your warrior has arrived. Though the gods alone know how he found you.”
The shrieking noise ended with a resounding clang—the sound of metal bouncing off metal. And then…
“Sophia!” The deep, furious roar sounded like something that might come from a male lion on the African veldt. It was Sylvan’s voice—she was sure of that—but so thick with fury it was barely recognizable.
Xairn scooped up the now bloody knife again. “You’d better stand clear—he’s coming. I hope he doesn’t have a blazer with him—if he slices through the ship’s walls we’ll all be space dust.”
He started to stand but before he could, Sylvan was already in the room. Blood red pupils took in the tableau before him and suddenly Sophie understood how it must look. She was naked on the floor with a strange male crouching over her, holding a bloody knife. Of course Sylvan thought she was being attacked.
“Sylvan, no—” she started to say, but he was already on Xairn, the two of them rolling over and over on the metal floor, fists and boots clanging and pounding as they struggled.
Sophie gasped and leaped to one side. She wanted to stop the brawl before Sylvan killed the other male, but she didn’t know how. There was no way to get between them without risking serious injury and besides, she was completely naked and unprotected. She tried shouting Sylvan’s name several times but he didn’t seem to hear her. The protective rage must be blinding him right now—and keeping him from hearing anything but his enemy’s cries.
The fight didn’t last long. Xairn was every bit as big and muscular as Sylvan but he had no female to protect, no rage to fuel his struggle. After a short, brutal scuffle, Sylvan had the other male down on the ground with both hands locked around his throat.
“Go ahead.” Xairn’s red eyes bulged from their sockets as he gave a strangled laugh. “Choke the life from my body. You’ll be doing me a favor.”
“Oh, I’m not going to choke you—that’s too painless.” There was a murderous glint in Sylvan’s crimson eyes. “I’m going to rip your fucking throat out—just like I promised.”
His mouth contorted in a grimace as he bared his fangs. They glittered like white daggers in the cold, artificial light but Sophie knew they wouldn’t stay white for long—soon they would be red with blood. If the Scourge have red blood, that is, she thought with distant horror, remembering the black ichor that had come from the urlich.
As Sylvan crouched over the other male, he seemed to grow bigger somehow, more menacing than Sophie had ever seen him. Suddenly her paralysis broke. I have to stop him! Xairn was going to let me go.
“Wait!” she said desperately, daring to touch his shoulder. “Sylvan, wait.”
He turned on her with a snarl—a beast disturbed while it crouched over its prey. For a moment Sophie cringed back. At that moment he was everything she feared in a man—everything that haunted and terrified her. There was nothing left of the sweet, gentle male who had carried her when she couldn’t walk and healed her wounds when she was hurt. There was only a huge alpha male with needle sharp fangs and blood-red eyes waiting to attack.
Run! screamed the primal part of her. Get away! He’s dangerous right now. You can’t stop him. You can’t do anything but hide and hope he comes back to his senses before he kills you too!
But Sophie was done running.
“I…I’m not afraid of you,” she said in a low voice, uncertain if she was trying to convince him or herself. “And you need to stop what you’re doing right now, Sylvan.”
“After what he did to you?” His voice was still thick and distorted with rage. “Never. He deserves to die.”
“He didn’t do anything,” Sophie said firmly. “He didn’t…didn’t try to touch me. Not like Burke,” she added in a softer voice, trying to make him understand.
“She’s right.” Xairn nodded as well as Sylvan’s hands around his throat would allow. “I was under orders to bring her back for the AllFather to despoil, but I did nothing myself.”
“There, you see?” Sophie asked.
Sylvan tightened his hold, making the Scourge commander’s face go a strange, dusky grey color. “He was taking you away to be raped and killed,” he said harshly. “Whether he touched you or not, I will show no mercy.”
“But he wasn’t,” she protested. “He was going to let me go. Look…” She pointed to the small wound on the inside of her knee. “He even cut out the, uh, tracking device thing they’d implanted so they could find me.”
The sight of her wound had a definite effect on him. Sophie could see the urge to kill warring with the urge to heal in those blood red eyes—she only prayed the latter won out.
“Sylvan,” she murmured, daring to touch his shoulder again. “Please—can’t we just get out of here? I feel…wow, I really don’t feel good.” She put a hand to hear head and wobbled unsteadily. It wasn’t an act—suddenly she was dizzy and faint. She stumbled and would have fallen if Sylvan hadn’t caught her with one hand.
He pulled her close and looked at her anxiously. “Sophia?”
“Want to go. Please,” she whispered.
Sylvan uttered a low curse and looked down at Xairn. He still had the Scourge commander by the throat with one hand, but his grip wasn’t nearly as tight as it had been. It didn’t need to be—Xairn was completely still. Whether he was dead or unconscious Sophie couldn’t tell. She thought she saw a faint motion of his broad chest but then Sylvan let him go and turned to swing her up into his arms.
“Thank you,” she whispered, laying her head on his shoulder. “And thank you for coming for me, Sy
lvan.”
“I will always come for you, Talana,” he said hoarsely. “No matter what happens or who stands in the way. You’re mine.”
“Sylvan…” She wanted to say more but her head was swimming again and then she started shivering.
Sylvan looked at her with obvious concern. “Let’s get you back to the ship.”
She caught one last glance at the still form of Xairn, lying on the floor, and then he carried her away.
Chapter Thirty-five
Sylvan didn’t know why he did it, but after getting Sophie safely strapped in he sealed the hole in the side of the artificial asteroid before disengaging from the enemy ship. Should have just let the bastard suck vacuum and die—if he’s not dead already, he thought as the last of the sealant compound adhered to the Scourge ship’s rocky outer surface. But Sophia’s tender heart and soft plea had stopped him. How she could be so forgiving was beyond Sylvan—he was still deep in rage and ready to kill anyone who so much as looked at her the wrong way.
“Sylvan,” she whispered faintly, her teeth chattering. “I’m c-cold. Do you have a b-blanket?”
“I have something better than that.” Reaching down, he found something soft and warm and handed it to her.
“My tharp! MM2!” Sophia cuddled under the moss green tharp which folded itself around her affectionately. Almost at once her shivering stopped. “I never thought I’d be so glad to see you again,” she told it. Then she looked up at Sylvan. “Thank you for bringing it.”
“I almost didn’t bother to get it but I thought you might need it to warm you,” he said shortly. “How do you feel?”
“Better. Much better. Well…”
“Yes?” Sylvan asked anxiously.
“It’s just that…I guess now that everything’s over I’m starting to feel the, uh, Blood Fever more. My, um…parts of me are feeling really sensitive right now,” she admitted in a low voice.
Sylvan nodded. “The effects of the fever. But don’t worry—I started a compound here in the ship’s lab, using my essence and the Blood Fever vaccine as the basis.” He nodded to the back of the small ship where a counter was filled with delicate looking but surprisingly tough equipment. “I did it while I waited for Kat and Lock and Deep to locate you.”
“You did?” Her eyes widened. “They did? But…Kat said she didn’t want anything else to do with them.”
“Apparently she changed her mind so they could help find you. It was…” Sylvan pressed a hand to his eyes briefly, trying not to think of the horrible uncertainty—wondering if she was dead or alive, if he would ever see her again… “It was the longest two hours of my life, waiting to hear where you were. I had to do something to keep from going mad and I knew if…when I found you that you’d need the cure.”
Sophie frowned. “So this cure—this antidote you’ve concocted—I just take a shot and the Blood Fever will be gone? And then you and I, our lives, everything—will just go back to normal?”
Sylvan nodded. “Yes, thank the Mother. And it’s not even a shot— I know how much you hate needles or anything sharp so I formulated it as an emulsion you can take by mouth. I need to get some glucose mixture to dissolve it in but they’ll have that at the med station on the Mother ship so—”
“I don’t want it.”
“What?” He frowned. “I assure you, Sophia, it’s perfectly safe.”
“Oh, I don’t doubt that. But I’m through playing it safe with you.” She leaned forward as far as her straps would allow and placed a hand on his knee. “I want you to bite me, Sylvan. Bite me and…and do whatever else you have to do.” Her cheeks turned pink but her eyes never left his. “That’s how I want you to cure me.”
Sylvan opened his mouth to answer but just then he caught sight of himself in the shiny, reflective surface of the blank viewscreen. Red eyes and fully extended fangs greeted him—the visage of a male still deep in rage. He tried to force his fangs to retract but they wouldn’t. Though he had rescued Sophia, the possessive need that had been raised in him by her abduction refused to die. With a sinking heart, he felt his blood burning again, the desire for her growing like a fire that threatened to blaze out of control and consume everything in its path.
I can’t take her in such a state. Can’t trust myself not to hurt her, to scare her. Besides, in order to heal her, he would have to bond her. Once he did that there would be no going back—no escape for her from his fangs, which she feared so. Because if he took her, if he allowed himself to fill her with his cock and pierce her with his fangs even once, he would never be able to stop. He would need her under him, open for him every night for the rest of their lives.
“No,” he growled, flipping on the viewscreen so that it showed the blackness of space instead of his own grotesque and frightening countenance. “I won’t do that.”
“Is it your vow holding you back? Because I release you of it,” she said softly. “I…I don’t want you to be foresworn of me anymore.”
“I appreciate that but it doesn’t make any difference,” Sylvan said stiffly. Gods, couldn’t she see how difficult this was for him? He hated to keep refusing her but it was for her own damn good.
Setting the coordinates, he turned the ship toward Tranq Prime. He wasn’t taking her back to his native planet, however. He’d had enough of his relatives to last a life time and besides, he wanted her back on board the Mother ship where he could care for her properly. The Kindred High Council were just going to have to understand.
“Sylvan—” she began, but he was already punching in a call to Baird.
“Brother.” Baird’s golden eyes were wary when he appeared on the screen. When he saw Sophia wrapped in the moss green tharp, he looked cautiously relieved. “She’s all right?” he demanded in a low voice. “She’ll live?”
“I’m fine,” Sophia answered before Sylvan could speak. “Just fine.”
Baird’s dark face broke into a grin of pure joy. “Lilenta,” he shouted over his shoulder. “She’s all right!”
“Oh, thank God! Thank God.” Olivia came running, appearing abruptly in their line of vision. Her eyes were red and her long blonde hair looked like she’d been running both hands through it in agitation. “Sophie, are you okay?” She looked at Sophia anxiously. “Really and truly? Don’t lie to me.”
“I’m okay—really and truly, wombmate.” Sophia smiled at her twin. “I’m fine.”
“She’s not fine,” Sylvan corrected sternly. “She still has Blood Fever and needs to take the antidote I made for her from my essence. I need a glucose mixture to dissolve it in—Olivia, you know where it’s kept in the med station, don’t you?”
Olivia nodded eagerly. “I’ll have it waiting for you in your suite.”
“Good.” Sylvan nodded. “And Baird, get ready to fold space. We’re coming home.”
Baird grinned. “I was hoping you’d say that. In fact, I already got permission to create the fold. Had to call in a hell of a lot of favors but it’s ready and waiting for you.”
“Thank you, Brother.” Sylvan felt an immense sense of relief that they weren’t going to have to wait for the fold to appear. He needed to get Sophia back to the Mother ship and healed quickly so that he himself could visit the sacred grove. Another trip to the priestess to cool his burning blood was definitely in order. Even now he could smell Sophia’s sweet scent and the outline of her naked body under the soft green tharp was almost more temptation than he could bear.
“Fly straight and true, Brother,” Baird said, interrupting his thoughts. “Come home to us safely.”
“We’re coming,” Sylvan promised. He started to cut off the communication but Sophia spoke up quickly.
“Liv, I need to talk to you. Bespeak me as soon as we come out of the fold—all right?”
“Of course,” Olivia promised. Something seemed to pass between them—something Sylvan couldn’t quite catch. He frowned, but it was probably just a twin thing. Deep and Lock often did the same thing—communicating with nothing
more than a look or a touch.
“We’ll see you soon,” he said and cut the link. Immediately the viewscreen showed Tranq Prime racing toward them. Hovering in space above the grayish white sphere was a deep red wound in space—the fold. “Hold on,” he told Sophia. “We’re going through.”
“Good.” She gave him a warm smile that tugged at his heart. “I want to go home.”
* * * * *
“Sophie, are you there?” Liv’s voice popped into her mind the minute the small ship exited the fold.
“I’m here,” Sophie sent back at once. “God, Liv, you have no idea how good it is to hear you. To be home again.”
Olivia laughed delightedly, a warm sound that echoed in Sophie’s heart as well as her head. “Hard to believe you left barely a day ago.”
“Well it seems like a lot longer than a day, believe me,” Sophie sent back grimly. “You won’t believe everything I have to tell you. But for right now I just need a favor.”
“Name it. Anything,” came the immediate reply.
“Thanks.” Sophia smiled. “I just need you to hold off on getting that glucose stuff for a little while.”
Liv’s mental tone changed from agreeable to stern. “What? No way, Sophie. You’re sick—you need to take the antidote Sylvan made you. In fact, I’m in the lab
getting the glucose right now.”
“I don’t need the antidote—that’s not the only way to cure Blood Fever,” Sophie argued. Look, how much do you know about it?”
“I know that it’s fatal if you don’t treat it within forty-eight hours.”
“And I’ve had it less than eight. Come on, Liv, just look it up.”
“Hang on.” There was a short silence and Sophie pictured her sister tapping away on the info unit at the med lab. In a very short time her voice was back in Sophie’s head. “So you want him to cure you the traditional way? Do you know what that involves?”
“I know,” Sophie sent. In the past the idea of letting Sylvan sink his fangs into her had freaked her out. But the memory of her time with the Scourge and the things she had vowed to herself was still fresh in her mind. “I’ve just been through hell, Liv,” she told her sister quietly. “I thought I was going to die and you know what I realized? I haven’t really let myself live.”
Brides of the Kindred Volume One Page 81