“Yes. To put us both in our place. The starlord world was one of conquered and conqueror. It was beyond their comprehension to imagine a world where all are free and equal. The starlord is a prisoner of his own limited thinking. He finds domination exciting. We find it disgusting.”
“I’m sorry I rejected you, Hari, it’s just that…”
“You attained mutatis with my brother. No one outside of Chizan will ever understand that bond. It will remain for Kuno until the day you die and then it will lead you to him, in the next life. But we have to survive this. There is one way.” He paused, his sapphire gaze intense upon her. “I can pretend to be John. I can glamor myself, so that it is your husband you see when…”
“I’ll still feel you, Hari.”
He smiled. “I have seen John naked. We are not so different.”
“Technique, Hari, and you’re more felinus than… Um. You have more ridges. Even in the dark I’d know you weren’t my husband.”
He laughed grimly. “How do you like your loving, Samantha? Tell me, so I can please.”
“Just be yourself.”
“I have always loved you, from the moment I saw you with John, when I welcomed my brother’s mate. For the first time in my life I envied him, envied his happiness, his completeness.”
“Then let me soothe you,” she whispered.
Harimal settled on the edge of the cot and holding her wrist, drew her down and settled her on his lap, so she faced him.
The top of his sex rubbed her inner flesh. All the while his gaze held hers. He smiled as she gasped at his deliberate provocation, then purred as she reached between them to stroke his feena.
She pressed her fingertips between the ridges and Hari growled deep in the back of his throat. He kissed her, purring against her lips as she continued to pump him. She nipped his right ear lobe, swirling her tongue into the canal.
Hari shivered. Ah yes, kitten-mine. Yes!
Sam ran her fingers through his long hair. His erection probed her entrance and she moved, taking his length. A centimeter at a time. A slow withdrawal, an even slower penetration. His, a slow thrust and retreat, bearing to the right, to the left, then to the center.
He sang to her, as his hands slid up and down her body, pressing her spine. Sam mimicked his journey, finding those places along his spine that made him shiver.
She moan-purred as he slid all the way to her inner point and beyond… Aaah! She closed her eyes, seeing stars and shattered with the ecstasy.
And in the darkness of its own dreamworld, a nova erupted. An alien orgasm. The starlord screamed.
Sam woke slowly, her gaze resting on Hari’s naked back. She smiled, resisting the urge to touch him. He was asleep. Let him have his innocent dreams, his moment of peace. Their bed was wide and low. Hari slept facing the door, she behind him, her back to the wall. His protective measure to ensure that no one could reach her, unless they went through him first.
They had taken the starlord to convergence twice and he had gifted them with the new bed and a holo-screen on the far wall displaying images of their choice. At the moment it was a scene from a window, overlooking one of the gardens on Chizan. She even smelled the ginger perfume of the farseth rose and a warm breeze tickled her cheek.
Chizan.
John.
Her gut cramped, followed by nausea. She bit down on her lip. The pain in her nape was worse, a stabbing intensity. But the worst pain was the emptiness inside. Where John had once existed in her consciousness, now there was nothing. This was a hurt beyond anything the starlord had so far inflicted. Could ever inflict.
How long until the Madness took her? Would she struggle against it, or seek its comfort, a refuge from the loneliness?
“Maybe I can help you ease that torment, Sammi,” Hari whispered.
“I thought you were asleep.”
“I was. Your pain woke me.”
“I’m sorry.” She stroked his honey-colored skin. “But didn’t you say you can’t ease it? That no one could?”
He turned with a rustle of sheets and slipped an arm around her, lifting her against him. “Maybe I was wrong. I can touch your mind, link with you. Perhaps fill the void, a little. I know it hurts. I have the loss, too, kitten. John was my brother. He and I linked. A part of him within me, a part of me within him. As you. I can help you.”
“And who will help you?”
Harimal smiled. “Just by holding me, you heal, Samantha.”
His mind touched hers and slowly Sam allowed him entrance. He teased back the layers of consciousness, like unfolding each petal of a rose until he touched that part of her that belonged to John.
An image of Kuno formed and beside him, she saw herself, and Harimal. She was sandwiched between the two men and they wrapped their arms around the other, purring. They danced as they had done in the holoroom at Rendezvous and John began to sing, his baritone a foil to Hari’s tenor.
Vincerò! Harimal’s voice held the final word, the note. Vincerò!—I shall conquer!
Sam recognized the word from ‘Nessun Dorma’, the powerful aria. How apt it was. She and Harimal would conquer. Vincerò! Harimal, san-Duran! she whispered.
Her mouth found his in an eager kiss, seeking, hungry. But the answering lips weren’t Hari’s.
My gift to you, Samantha. Harimal’s mind caressed hers.
Sam felt the touch of his thoughts, a gentle caress, like a ray of light, warming, pleasant, followed by a spark of color, a rainbow. John’s image coalesced. She knew Harimal was drawing forth her memories so that she might re-live a moment of her time with her mate…
“Ah, Sammi-mine,” John whispered. “You hungry again for me, babe? Ain’t you ever gonna let me sleep?”
She smiled, remembering that time when he had lain satiated beside her and she burned, twisting back and forth on the bed, squirming with desire.
John lifted her onto his body and she writhed upon him, back and forth, up and down. His eyes burned, his smile crooked as he watched her taking her pleasure, his fingers teasing apart her curls to stroke her clit as she impaled herself upon him.
“You only love me for my body, honey-cat,” John whispered.
She slapped his thigh. “You think so, cat-boy?”
“So long as you love me, Sharille-mine.”
“Always. Forever.”
“Vincero! Kitten-mine, do not give in to the Madness. Promise me,” John-Hari said.
“I promise,” she whispered. “I will remember you always, honor your love, your trust.” Sam closed her eyes, her mind, severing Hari’s image.
Yes, she’d remember John. Not lose herself to the Madness because she must save Harimal. And after that, she would find release in death, to find the spirit of John-Kuno because without him there was nothing.
Remember, yes. Honor, yes. But forever parted. Until she found him again, in the next life. And she suspected that death for her would be sooner, rather than later.
“How you doing, Kuno?” Taren asked.
Across the confined cockpit of the hunter-ship, John grimaced at his clan-brother. He held up his trembling hands.
“That bad, huh? You need my help?”
“Not if it means taking one of your feegling potions. I’m not going into the Madness. I know Sam’s alive and I’ll find her.” He paused. “Vincerò!”
“What?” Taren demanded.
John sat, rigid, in the flight seat. He concentrated, closing his eyes, feeling his brow crease with tension. “She’s singing.” He smiled, opened his eyes, blearily focusing on Taren. “I’m not going into first level Madness. I can feel her, hear her in my mind.”
“I do not doubt it. The bond between you is strong. Are we on the right path?”
John nodded. “Oh… Oh, stars! She’s loving someone.” He paused. “Harimal. I recognize his aura.”
“Shut the link, Kuno. I’m getting the sex-vibrations from you. They’ll infect us all.”
“If I close the link, then we can’t find
her.”
“Close it, Johnathan. I mean it.”
John studied Taren. Rarely did his clan-brother use his human name and never in full.
“An assassin can control the hunger, but not if there are three felinus around going cat-crazy.”
John snorted. “Yeah right, bird-brain.”
From the cabin behind them they caught the sound of Kareena’s moan and Lenar’s purr, followed by the hiss of two draconis. The scent of mingled sex hormones drifted inside the flight deck.
John sighed.
“Go back and join them, Kuno.”
“My name is Kuno and I exist for Samantha. Only for her. I…can’t.” He swallowed convulsively at the thought.
Taren snorted. “I thought a felinus could rise at any occasion.”
“Not this felinus.”
“Great,” Taren whispered.
“You want to go back with the others?”
“I’m allergic to dragon scales.”
John laughed and touched his clan-brother’s wrist, lightly stroking. Kari’s scream sliced through the ship’s interior.
Taren rolled his eyes. “Feegling cats!”
The dark passage smelled of danger and age. The cold of the stones burnt through the soles of her velvet slippers. She lifted her silk gown above her ankles, treading carefully, hugging the wall.
She had no idea how long she had walked, then ran, and when she could run no more, crept along the endless corridors of the citadel. Inside was like a maze, every turn of corner offering her choices of possible escape routes.
She paused. What was that sound? Her heart hammered in her ears and she swallowed hard. Was that footsteps behind her in the dark? Was he following her? The man who called himself daman-san, her master. Fuck him. She had no master. The sooner he realized it, the better—for them both.
She hurried down the passage to her right, coming to a massive, carved door. She tugged, and finally it gave way and creaked open. Sam found herself on a battlement. She rushed forward to the crenellated wall and peered down. Forty meters below the jagged rocks pointed upwards, spikes glistening in the red dawn. Escape that way was impossible.
“Exactly so, damiselle, escape is impossible,” the warrior said.
She whirled to face him, and edged backwards as he strode towards her. “Come no closer. I won’t submit to you.”
“You said that last night, many times, and yet, you did and screamed your release, even as you cursed me.”
He tossed his head, so much like Hari, but the eyes were grey and harsh. So unlike.
He held out his hand. “Come here. I want you.”
The red silk robe he wore was unfastened and the wind parted it, revealing his bronzed body, the engorged phallus with the felinus ridges straining.
Terrified, she retreated another step, finding the gap between the crenellated wall. She put one foot back, then the other. “I would rather die than have you touch me.”
“You cannot die. But I might allow you a glimpse of the little death. That’s what the old French called the orgasm, Sammi.”
Sam bit her lip. The words—John’s words—spoken so long ago. Was the starlord dredging up the memories of her time with John, now, to feed his insatiable depravity?
This dream had to end.
She turned and hurled herself from the battlements, hearing Hari’s scream in her mind, in her ears, as the wind rushed past her.
Then a dark shape swooped beneath her, scooping her up in strong arms, wings beating upward. She fought the Avenor. Its face was the starlord and its eyes—its eyes were Andy’s, but the body was Taren’s.
The cat-wing dropped Samantha onto the slate floor at the feet of the warrior. He bent down and cupped her chin, raising her face.
“You belong to me, damiselle.” He flung her backwards and stepped over her, his feet on either side of her body, holding her prisoner. He lowered himself…
Sam screamed.
The dreamscape tore apart as she screamed over and over until she retched. She fought and bit and scratched the hands holding her and when she could fight no more, she lay weeping, choking back great sobs.
“What is wrong with the woman?” the starlord demanded.
“She has the Madness. You killed her mate and she is alone.”
“Heal her, felinus.”
“I cannot. There are some hurts beyond any skill to mend.”
Sam felt herself raised into arms and cradled on a lap.
“Sharille, hush.” Hari’s lips brushed her temple.
“I want to die.”
“Yes, sweetheart, I know.”
“But I can’t leave you here, alone, with that monster. Can I?”
“Sleep, kitten.”
“He makes me dream.”
“He won’t touch you this time. Let me soothe you. Sleep.” Hari’s mind teased around hers, like a whisper of silk, enveloping her, building a screen.
“The starlord…”
“He’s gone. Sleep, Shari-mine.”
He sang and her eyelids grew heavy. “You be-spelling me, cat-boy?”
“Would I do that to you?” He laughed and rubbed his cheek against hers.
“I enjoyed the previous dream,” the starlord said. “Now, I want the damiselle to dominate. Do so to my satisfaction and earn a reward. Begin the dream.”
Too afraid to argue, for Hari’s sake, Sam concentrated, building the image of the fortress, adding textures, until she was immersed in the dreamscape…
Sam crept down the winding staircase, hugging the dank, moldering wall. The torchlight flickered, casting wavering shadows over the black stones. Her boot slid over the slime-encrusted stones.
Hardly daring to breathe, with her heart thudding in her ears, she edged down, coming at last to the final step.
She shouldered open the door and halted, her eyes accustoming to the gloom. Against the wall she saw him, chained. Naked. He lifted his head as she stepped closer.
“So, daman-san, our positions are reversed. You are the one imprisoned.”
He tugged at the restrains. “I will escape this confinement, damiselle, but you, rest assured, shall never escape me.”
She laughed. “How I enjoy a challenge.”
He almost smiled. “Then release me and enjoy the challenges I offer you.”
“Perhaps.”
A whip materialized in her right hand, the leather supple, but strong. She raised it, smiling, tracing the handle down his body, watching the constricting muscles of his body. Lower. She held his gaze. His grey eyes were cold, harsh, harsher than steel, colder than space.
For a moment she savored the taste of his fear.
“Human-mine, peel the flesh from his bones. Let him scream.” The dreamscape rippled with the starlord’s command.
His presence was like a shadow lurking in her mind. It pried and drained, feeding on her thoughts and emotions, like a vampire.
“Ah, vampires. Such complex creatures,” the starlord whispered. From, the shadows, a dark-robed creature emerged, the hem of the cloak raised across its face, so only the burning ruby eyes were revealed. Sam almost laughed at the cliché.
The cloak was cast aside and the vampire stepped closer, the torch light flickering over its face. Sam gasped. It was John; his features cold, pale, utterly terrifying in its inhumanity.
“Observe, human, this is the true vampire, not some mongrel breed, like—”
The rest of the thought was snatched back, but Sam caught the resonance. What was the starlord hiding?
“Continue with the dream, human, or the felinus will suffer.”
“If you wish,” Sam replied. “But indulge me. Watch this dream and see where I lead.”
“Of course.”
Sam dropped the whip, and knives appeared in her hands. Assassin’s knives, the same as the one Taren had gifted her—so many days, or was it now weeks ago?
“Yes, female. Peel the flesh from his skin, a slice at a time. As the assassin taught you.”
/> For a moment Sam wanted to do his bidding, to hurt, to taste the sweetness of revenge. Horrified, she flung the knives away and whirled to confront the starlord. Of course he was not there. The coward never materialized, just invaded their minds with his presence and his dreams and his challenges.
“I don’t want the knives or the whip. Why can’t you just let me dream, why do you have to be so cruel? Do you really think that pain and pleasure are the same for me? For us?”
“How little you know of pleasure. There is a point where pain leads to the greatest pleasure. Now, continue this dream. I want convergence.”
The dreamscape rippled, taking her to another scenario…
Sam became aware of herself moments later.
The warrior lay on the bed, shivering, his body laced with weals. She sat on the side of the mattress and carefully applied soothing unguents to his torn flesh.
“Your touch is soft, damiselle.” He studied her. “Why so gentle with me? I have not been kind to you.”
“I am a healer.”
“Ah so, your kindness is due to duty, not compassion?”
“We are both creatures of our nature. You are the warrior, a barbarian.”
He laughed. “Me? Barbarian? Have I not ensured your pleasure, before I give in to my own? Some men might not consider your needs at all.”
“You do so, because it proves your manhood, your expertise. Your warrior’s arrogance extends to bed.” She swept the cloth gently over a deeper wound and she felt him shiver. “I’m sorry, if I hurt you.” The silence beat at her ears and when she lifted her head, she saw his eyes, softer, regarding her.
“You are a strange woman, damiselle.”
“How so?”
“You might have fled the citadel, made good your escape, while I lay here unconscious.” He paused, quirking his brow. “Perhaps you enjoy my caresses more than you admit.”
“In your dreams,” she snapped.
He laughed. “Especially in your dreams. What is your name?”
“Samantha.”
“A strange name. It lacks texture.”
“To you maybe. What is your name?”
He smiled. “A warrior never tells a woman his name.”
“Because a name has power?”
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