Eliana

by Evey Brett

  Maybe Dane was right. Eliana might have turned out the same: a woman with her own bad memories to flay by using a proxy. She had issues, but she was young and had a depth and self-awareness Valerie had lacked. Kon still had hope for Eliana. Since she couldn’t share his life the way he craved, then he hoped she’d be happy and find someone to love her as much as he did.

  He stretched out, sending several papers sliding to the floor. As soon as he recalled the file, the guilt returned. He was a freak. Spawn of a devil and a demon. Small wonder the woman he loved didn’t want him and the first woman he’d desired treated him like the lab animal he was.

  “I have to pee.” He extracted himself from Dane’s embrace and headed toward the bathroom, but relieving himself wasn’t the primary reason for going there.

  Kon dug out the last three vials he’d secreted among his toiletries. Broken and unhappy as he was, he had nothing left to lose.

  Before he could change his mind, he filled the syringe and plunged it into his arm once. Twice. Three times.

  The syringe and empty vials fell to the floor. Fire raced along his veins and burned. Kon doubled over, hissing as the agony traveled throughout his body. Teeth clenched, he couldn’t hold back his moan of pain.

  AS SOON AS Kon cried out, Dane rushed to the bathroom. Kon leaned against the sink, trembling and pallid. Dane’s stomach tightened. “Are you sick? What—”

  His toe hit something that clinked against the base of the cabinet. Dane bent down and picked up a glass vial—one with a label reading Träume. Two more lay on the floor, along with a syringe. “What does träume mean?” He pronounced the word as best he could.

  Kon didn’t look at him. “Dreams.”

  Dreams. The word jarred something uncomfortable within Dane, but right now he was too worried to focus. Kon had been an idiot; more than that, he’d kept a secret that might have killed him. “You fucking fool.” The hard slap against Kon’s cheek didn’t even fractionally express his fury. Dane would have done anything to help, but Kon hadn’t given him the chance. “How could you?”

  Kon pushed him away and swayed slightly. “I had to know…”

  “Know what? That your father was a fucking madman?” Dane grabbed Kon’s face and forced Kon to look at him. “He’s messing with your head, just as he has been your whole life.”

  “It doesn’t matter. I’m a freak.” The words came out in a drunken slur.

  Shit. Kon was going downhill. Fast. “It matters. And if you’re a freak, what the hell am I? A freak’s catamite?” Dane waited, hoping Kon would clarify, but he didn’t. “Come on, Kon. Talk to me.”

  But Kon’s eyes glazed over. His legs gave way. Dane caught him, hoisted him up, and carried him out to the bed. “How many did you use?” When Kon didn’t answer, Dane shook him hard. “There were twelve vials. How many did you use?”

  He had to lean down to hear Kon’s voice. “All of them.”

  Dread pooled in Dane’s stomach. “I’m calling Doc Jensen.”

  “Don’t bother. It’s too late.”

  Dane didn’t dare ask too late for what? If it meant Kon was dying, he didn’t want to know, and he wasn’t going to give up without a fight. He made a frantic call to the hospital wing, then returned to Kon’s side. “Doc’s on her way.”

  With effort, Kon said, “He lied.”

  “Of course he lied. He lied your whole life. Don’t tell me you used that drug because you believed him.”

  “I thought…” Kon’s breathing grew raspy. His eyes drifted shut. “I thought he’d left me something that could change me for the better. He didn’t.”

  Dane’s heart broke at hearing the depth of Kon’s grief. How the hell did he pass the psych tests if he carried this within him? Not that he was really protesting; if Kon hadn’t become a Warden, Dane would never have met him, and he might still be wandering around San Diego looking for his next partner and not knowing why he always felt so hungry.

  “Kon?” But there was no answer. Kon had drifted off to sleep. “Come on. Don’t do this.” A rough shake had no effect, but beneath his grip, Kon’s skin tingled. Dane’s demon stirred as it picked up energy laced with sex.

  Kon was dreaming again. The label on the vial—dreams—made sudden, frightening sense knowing the drug caused Kon to project his fantasies to others. “Can’t keep your mind to yourself, can you?”

  Chapter Seventeen

  The rest of the morning was the worst of Dane’s life. Doc Jensen arrived within minutes of his call, accompanied by two of her techs. In short order, Kon was undressed and hooked up to an IV and several monitors while Doc gave him a thorough exam.

  Dane paced, hating the way Kon looked so helpless and vulnerable. His demon gave him no peace, taunting him with arousal no matter how hard he tried to tamp it down. He avoided telling Evan about Kon as long as he dared, guessing the response he’d receive—and getting it.

  Evan hurried into the room, exchanged a few terse words with Doc, then pounced on Dane. He gave Dane a violent shake, fingers digging into Dane’s arms. “How could you let Kon do something so stupid? Why didn’t you tell us his father had sent a package?”

  As soon as his teeth stopped rattling, Dane said, “Kon asked me not to.”

  Evan’s face grew livid. “The well-being of my Wardens is my top concern. I need to know anything that affects them. Anything. Even a cambion like you should be able to understand that.”

  Fury boiled over at Evan’s arrogance. “So why did you give him the damn file? Do you think it helped to see a picture of his father’s corpse?”

  “You two either shut up or take it outside,” Doc said. She was busy drawing a few vials of blood from Kon’s arm. “He’s a Sensitive, remember?”

  Evan clamped his mouth closed. So did Dane, who was ashamed at behaving so badly when Kon needed their support.

  Kon lay writhing and sweating, highly aroused and utterly incoherent. Doc Jensen collected the vials and syringe and sent them off with one of her techs for testing in the lab.

  “Any chance on finding another Sensitive to help?” Dane asked.

  “I was going to call when I had a chance.” Evan went into the next room. Twenty minutes later, he returned with an even darker expression. “The one in Colorado Springs went to Santa Fe for an emergency. The one in Cheyenne is down with pneumonia. Las Vegas and Salt Lake can’t leave. My aide is on the line looking for someone willing to fly in.”

  “If they can’t come, maybe I could take Kon to—”

  “I’m not letting you move him in this condition,” Evan said as Doc’s techs brought in yet another machine and hooked electrodes to Kon’s head. “Besides, how long has it been since your demon fed?”

  The question was highly inappropriate with his lover lying there suffering. “It doesn’t matter.”

  “It matters. I’m going to have to find you a surrogate until Kon’s well. It would help to know how much time I have.”

  The longest Dane had gone without sex was five days, all of them during the terrible aftermath of Valerie’s session. By the time Kon had been able to face the idea of sex, Dane had been shaking and ill from withdrawal. “It’s not necessary. Kon will be fine by the time I need him.”

  “Damn it. How long?”

  “Three days.” Not including all those dreams Kon has been sending me.

  “I’ll have to make some more calls. You’re a difficult one to place. Finding a submissive Warden on short notice isn’t easy, you know?” Evan thrust him aside.

  God forbid Dane would dare try and find someone on his own. And if there was anything he hated, it was being treated as if he had a deadly disease and couldn’t take care of it himself.

  At last Doc had her machine up and running. Dane didn’t know what the hell all the screens and readouts meant, but she said, “He’s dreaming. Vividly.”

  “Tell me about it.” All Dane had to do was close his eyes to feel as if he were in the midst of a threesome with Kon and Eliana. Damn that bitch for
getting her hooks into him. It’s because of her he’s like this. All that crap she said…

  Evan grabbed Dane’s collar again. “What do you mean?”

  One by one, Dane pulled at Evan’s fingers until the Chief Warden had no choice but to let go. “I mean he’s dreaming about sex with me, and I can feel it. It’s been happening for over a week now.” He thought it better not to mention seeing Eliana in the dreams as well.

  “And you didn’t think this was important enough to tell anyone?”

  Dane didn’t bother to answer. Doc Jensen didn’t look up from her computer monitors as she said, “I’m not picking up any dreams from him.”

  “Me neither,” Evan said.

  “It’s just me, then,” Dane said. I wonder if Eliana has been having dreams? Nah. Dane didn’t know how the others couldn’t feel anything. Sexual energy leaked from Kon as if a floodgate had opened. Even without being able to sense the energy, Kon’s writhing and the tent beneath the sheets made it obvious he was in the throes of a very erotic dream.

  Dane’s demon thrashed so hard he could barely maintain control. If he didn’t do something soon, one or both of them was going to go mad.

  “Dane?” Kon’s eyes fluttered open.

  Dane was at his side in an instant. He stroked Kon’s sweaty face, careful not to disturb the electrodes. “I’m here, darling. Tell me what I can do to help you feel better.”

  “I can’t make it stop. It hurts.”

  “What hurts, Kon?” asked Doc Jensen.

  The dream. Dane only caught the edges of it; something about being captured, taken aboard a ship, and becoming the vicious captain’s favorite toy. Then too it wasn’t comfortable to have an unrelieved erection for so long. Uncaring of his audience, he reached beneath the blanket for Kon’s rock-hard cock and stroked it vigorously. Usually the heat and friction would have the desired effect, but Kon only moaned and showed no sign of release.

  Damn it. “I don’t suppose we could have some privacy?”

  Evan glowered. “If you think I’m going to leave you alone with—”

  “Twenty minutes,” Doc said and ushered the unhappy Chief Warden from the room.

  Twenty minutes. For the first thirty seconds, Dane anxiously racked his brain for the best means of helping Kon find release. Inside, his demon nudged, hot and roused by the sexual activity, but now wasn’t the time. Dane absolutely could not afford to lose control, and his demon couldn’t feed if Kon was unfocused and in agony.

  Because the drugs caused Kon to project, Dane knew in uncomfortable detail exactly what Kon craved—and he couldn’t do it alone. He needed Eliana, and she wasn’t here. Any other woman, even an experienced Warden, wouldn’t have the same effect.

  Damn her. Failing to have a third, Dane resorted to something Sensitives always said—give the patient what they need, not what they want. Kon needed release. Dane longed to give it to him, but everything was out of balance. His best handjob failed. Adding pain with a paddle or flogger would have ordinarily worked magic, but now toys seemed counterintuitive.

  He settled for stripping and climbing into bed. “Look at me, Kon.” He grasped his lover’s face. “Please. Look at me. Focus on me.”

  But he got nothing. Kon was lost in his dream world, submitting to his captor.

  “You always did have a thing for capture fantasies.” One of Kon’s favorite books was The Pirate and the Virginal Prince. Kon, of course, loved being the virginal prince, and Dane had played at being the pirate introducing him to the most depraved sex he could imagine. But whatever Kon’s dream, it held none of their usual love and teasing. This encounter was dark and brutal, much like Valerie had been.

  It didn’t help that Dane’s demon sensed Kon’s arousal and pounded within him, fluttering hard against the bars of its cage. Dane refused to let it out and ignored the ensuing hunger pangs, far worse than any craving for food.

  Twenty minutes. Fifteen, now. What the hell was he supposed to get done in so little time?

  Tell him a story. Some of the techniques Kon used in a healing session included listening to his patients and discovering stories in their life which might have contributed to their illness. Occasionally Kon would be the one telling the stories, using guided imagery to help his patients find the source of the problem. While Dane wrote stories for a living, he never considered himself to be much of a talent in oral storytelling, but he didn’t have any better ideas.

  Amid the decidedly unromantic beeping machines and the scent of alcohol and iodine, Dane pressed his body to his Warden’s and spoke quietly in his ear. “Once upon a time, there was a naive, virginal prince who had no idea about the world beyond the walls of his castle until a pirate captain laid eyes on him and decided to take him as his slave. The captain kidnapped the prince, deprived him of every stitch of clothing, and deposited him in the bed. The prince cried out when the captain climbed atop him and touched him in all the places no one had ever dared laid a hand. Tears rolled down the prince’s cheeks, but the captain didn’t care. He drove his cock into the prince’s body, heedless of the pain he caused.”

  Kon twitched. His breathing grew faster, and his face grew pinched.

  It’s working.

  The story touched on only the barest bones of the original, but he was starting to have fun with the improvisation. “The captain subjected the prince to the worst torments, whipping his flesh until it bled or tying him to the mast naked for the rest of the crew to fondle and jeer at. Then one day the captain tired of his prize and abandoned him on an uninhabited tropical island without clothing, food, or shelter. The prince wandered in a daze, lost and lonely, barely able to keep himself alive. One night there was a terrible storm, and a small boat was shipwrecked on the shore. Aboard was the handsome rogue Rodrigo, half drowned and almost dead. Fearful of further mistreatment, the prince kept his distance as much as possible and said not a single word. Rodrigo, upon seeing the beautiful face of this wild boy, fell in love with him at once. Yet the prince was little more than a feral animal, afraid to touch and be touched, so with the utmost patience, Rodrigo set out to seduce him.”

  Dane paused long enough to study Kon, watching, waiting for a sign that any of this was helping. Kon did look more relaxed, even attentive.

  “Little by little the prince grew to trust Rodrigo. So smitten was Rodrigo that he tried many times to make love to the prince, but the prince had been so mistreated, he was terrified and ran away. Neither would he say a word to Rodrigo; he remained utterly silent. Eventually Rodrigo convinced him to lie beside him. The next night, Rodrigo simply held him. Each night after that, Rodrigo added a touch here, a kiss there, until the prince lost his terror.”

  Dane acted out that part of the story, laying each kiss and caress with care. Kon let out a tiny, contented sigh.

  “At last the prince had discovered his body was capable of feeling pleasure as well as pain and asked Rodrigo to make love to him. Rodrigo eagerly complied.”

  So did Dane. He climbed on Kon, careful he didn’t rest too much of his weight on him. Gently he rubbed their bodies together, comforted by the basic contact. His own cock hardened and ached as it brushed the other. He bent his head and kissed Kon’s slack lips, focusing on the familiar scent which was nearly lost amid the antiseptic.

  “And soon, the prince felt something he hadn’t before,” Dane said as he wrapped his fingers around Kon’s shaft. “His rock-hard cock let go with such heat and force that he let out a moan of relief and release that Rodrigo thought it was the most beautiful sound in the world.”

  He stroked Kon’s cock, hoping, praying…

  A strangled cry emerged from Kon’s throat. Kon clutched him and shuddered, finding his release at last. Dane held him until Kon quieted and lapsed into a more normal sleep, but the relief was only temporary. It wouldn’t be long before Kon returned to a state of frantic arousal. Dane alone wasn’t enough to mend Kon’s fractured self.

  And why the hell not?

  Because he offset
only one part of Kon’s psyche—his need for unconditional love and protection. The rest Dane couldn’t help with. Kon’s mental anguish was tied to so many things—the belief that he’d inherited some sort of taint from his father, Valerie’s betrayal of his body and soul, the desperate need to be something, anything other than what he was. Eliana had suffered similar traumas, and that shared experience might be the key to restoring Kon.

  Only how the hell am I going to convince her to come?

  He pulled Kon to him and held him close. “I’ll get her, Kon. I’ll bring her back. I swear.”

  Dane just had time to clean up and make them both presentable before Doc and Evan returned. “I did what I could. I have an errand to run.” He dug Kon’s car keys out of the dresser drawer.

  Evan blocked his exit. “You can’t leave. Not without a Warden and especially not when your demon’s hungry. I’ll have to find you a surrogate while Kon’s ill.”

  Surrogate? There wasn’t anyone he’d met who sated him as well as Kon did, and Dane had decided Kon wasn’t going to be sick that long. “Like hell.”

  “My job is to make sure both Wardens and cambions are cared for.” Evan adopted the patient tone he did when talking to those he deemed lesser beings or too stupid to understand. “Therefore I’ll be reassigning you until Kon is well. Why don’t you make yourself at home in the room next door and I’ll find out who’s available?”

  The only home I have is at Kon’s side. He poked Evan’s chest. “Why don’t you go find some other cambion who’s willing to put up with your pampering?”

  Evan frowned. “Don’t pull that Dom shit on me. I’m not in the mood.”

  “And I’m not in the mood to be treated like I’m incapable of looking after myself.” Dane rose to his full height and flexed his muscles. “Get out of my way before I tie you up and leave you for the next hungry cambion.”

  Evan stared, jaw tight. “Enclave rules. You don’t leave without an escort.”

  Dane grabbed Evan’s wrist and dug his fingers into the pressure points. Evan went white. Harming the Chief Warden was probably not the best way to handle the situation, but Dane had had enough of Evan’s meddling. “I don’t need your permission to aid my Warden. Fuck you, and fuck the rules.”