Assassin's Bride

by C. J. Scarlett

  “If you’re going to save me, save me now,” I replied. He nodded. “I want you. I don’t think that will change.”

  “Humans are so…” He squinted as he searched for the right word. His English was good, but his education was patchy.

  “Fickle.” I finished for him. “And Barbearians are so steady.” He frowned.

  “Barbearians?”

  “It’s what I am going to call your people,” I explained. “You have no technology, no books, and you are bears. Get it? Bar-bear-ians?” He laughed and shook his head.

  “You have a strange sense of humor, little one.”

  Suddenly, the Sky Jewel above us grew dark. We both looked up just in time for it to shatter. We both shielded our eyes, shrapnel from the jewel cutting our skin. The large, crystalline head of a dragon looked at us. My heart sank—the dragon was a caramel color, with brown-red eyes. Without a doubt, I knew that it was Moranen, coming to claim me for his own.

  He roared in anger, reaching in with a large, taloned claw and picking me up. I reached out for Khofti, who was in the middle of a shift. He was taking too long. I found myself out in the bright late-afternoon sunshine, squinting. Clutched in Moranen’s enormous claw, I held on tightly. The wind blew my hair back as Moranen burst into a run, his great wings making a large, rushing noise as he took off. Many of the Ak-hal were grouped about the Kamani’s compound. As Moranen left with me in tow, they moved forward, unleashing fire and ruin on my Barbearians.

  Chapter 8

  I found, upon my return, that the Ak-hal’s castle still stood. It seemed as though it had been untouched. It was still crowded with human women—they looked at me from their eyes, angled toward the ground. Now, it was with interest, not fear or loathing. Clara was doing my hair. I looked at myself in the mirror—a doll, a toy, nothing more. My eyes, in fact, glowed with the cold light of the Ak-hal. They were still hazel, but strangely fiery. I guessed that it was only for the duration of the mating ceremony, as Clara and Sarita as well as all the other human mates lacked it. I felt utterly defeated. There was no way for the Barbearians to catch up in time to save me. I had been inspected by an Ak-hal doctor. The experience had been clinical and intrusive. Finding me intact, I was declared still suitable as a mate for the crown prince.

  Clara kept silent, understanding how crushing of a blow I had just been dealt. Freedom had been so close that I could have touched it.

  “What are they like?” Clara asked me quietly.

  “They are kind.” I said softly, choking back bitter, angry tears. “They are warm.”

  “I hoped so.”

  “Did you know Maggie?” Clara paused, her eyes wide.

  “Did she make it?”

  “Yes.” Now it was Clara’s turn to hold back her tears.

  “Is she well?”

  “Very well,” I replied. I paused. I needed to ask her a difficult question. “Were you the one? The one who alerted the Ak-hal that I was gone?” The face that she made told me that she had expected this question. She shook her head as she tugged the styling wand through my hair.

  “No,” she said. “It was Libba.” I felt relieved. Clara hadn’t been the one to betray me.

  “Be brave,” she whispered in my ear. As she did, she slipped something heavy into my pocket. I looked up at her from the chair in which I sat and nodded. She put the finishing touches on my hair—thick brunette waves. The two women wearing black silk entered, slowly carrying in my new crown on a black velvet pillow. It was identical to the one that I had discarded in the ice cave of the Kamani.

  Entering the great hall, I found that it had either been rebuilt or survived untouched. It seemed that the castle was made of mithrim to withstand the temper of the Ak-hal. The numbers of human women and Ak-hal were fewer in the hall that day. Their faces looked grim. Among them, I spotted Libba. She had a burn mark on her cheek. Otherwise, she appeared unhurt. I was led by Moranen to the dais. I dared to look directly at him. I seemed to have more control over myself—the spell of the Ak-hal had been broken the moment that Khofti’s voice had first sounded within my head. Moranen’s face was angry—annoyed. There had been a delay in plans. He wanted to wage his war against the Kamani. He wanted to crush them beneath his taloned claws. We stepped up to the dais, where Sarita and the king sat, and the shaman stood, golden cup in hand, waiting.

  I took the prince’s hand, as before. He looked at me coldly.

  “I saw how you looked at him,” he whispered to me, so no one else could hear. “After this, you will only look at me that way.” It sounded like a threat. I wished that Khofti would magically appear, and make all this go away. But the bears were too far away. They would never make it in time. It was up to me. I thought of the weight in my pocket, wondering what it could be.

  The ritual was completed. We stood, hand in hand, in front of the Ak-hal. They clapped, their mirth lukewarm.

  “Whose blood was used in the elixir?” I whispered. Moranen looked at me sharply. His smile spread slowly across his face.

  “Since he couldn’t control himself, we sacrificed Rakharo at dawn,” he whispered. “Our bond will take on his strength.” I made no reply, sickened by having anything of Rakharo’s within my body. There was no dance following. Moranen led me out of the great hall immediately.

  On the way, I slid my hand into my pocket to find out what Clara had slipped there. I felt the cold steel of a knife. Its edge was sharp, and it cut my finger when I touched it. I knew automatically what I needed to do.

  He led me up the staircase. Then down the hall. We were in the royal’s quarters, near where Sarita’s red room was located. He opened the ornately carved mithrim door. The room was sumptuous. The wooden four-poster marriage bed was large, with a thick satin comforter on it. On top of the comforter was a white fur. It made my heart ache for the Kamani from whom it had come.

  Roughly, Moranen turned me to face away from him. He began to unfasten the silk-covered buttons at my back. I pretended to grip my skirt with both hands as I slid my hand into my pocket for the knife. My pulse raced, the drumbeat of my heart loud in my ears. He tore the dress from my shoulders, and as it fell, the hand holding the knife came out of the pocket.

  I whirled to face him. I pointed the knife at his chest, pricking the skin. A large drop of blood welled up by the point, running down his chest in a dark crimson streak. He laughed.

  “You think to kill me?” His voice was full of ridicule.

  “Yes,” I replied, adding more pressure as I said so.

  “You are so stupid. A knife would never penetrate the sternum,” he snapped and held out his hand. “Give it to me.” Seeing that he had a point, I automatically lowered the knife. His hand raised to take it at the same moment as I made a jabbing, upward motion with the blade, striking with the quickness of a snake. I felt it penetrate Moranen’s thick skin, slipping upward and between his ribs.

  I pulled it out, stepping backward. I was fully prepared to do it a second time, if necessary. Moranen staggered back a step in surprise. He really hadn’t expected me to follow through, not realizing that the in-stasis training had been broken. He coughed blood as his hands covered the wound. He looked at it in surprise as blood cascaded over his fingers.

  “You’ve killed me,” he said in shock. He never thought that I would do it.

  “Yes,” I replied, triumphant. I stepped forward, bringing the knife up for the killing blow, drawing a deep line across his throat. Hitting the carotid artery, blood sprayed into my face. With a gurgling sound, Moranen fell to the floor. I wiped my face with my hand. I picked up my discarded dress, pulling it on. I had no time to struggle with buttons. Leaving the back of my dress gaping open, I opened the door, making sure to close it firmly behind me. Knowing the way out through my study of the Ak-hal’s maze of hallways, I ran. I ran for my life.

  When I reached the courtyard, I found it empty, just like Maggie before me. I ran for the open gates. The cage of the Ak-hal was nev
er watched. They didn’t seem to feel threatened by the Kamani in the least. They weren’t at all threatened by me. What a mistake they had made. In their coldness, they had too much pride.

  I ran through the large drifts of snow, shivering. More snow had begun to fall around me, and the wind rose. I needed to get to the ice cave where Khofti had first taken me. I didn’t know if I would make it before hypothermia or frostbite set in. I just kept moving, even as my arms and legs grew numb, and the skin on my face felt icy. I ran, my long skirts dragging in the snow, working against me.

  I staggered, exhausted. Against all hope, I saw before me a lumbering figure. From far away, it spotted me, loping gracefully in my direction. I felt Khofti’s presence, a gentle caress against my mind.

  Shay.

  Khofti.

  Relief flooded through me. As he neared, I began to fall, my legs no longer able to hold me up. I sank to my knees. Darkness fell across my vision as my body slumped to the ground.

  Chapter 9

  I awoke inside an ice cave, stalactites of blue ice hanging above me. I was wrapped in soft, woven blankets. Groaning, I sat up. I was naked, my snow-wet clothes having been discarded sometime while I was unconscious. I held the blankets up to cover myself. Khofti sat next to me, carving something with a knife. When he saw that I was awake, he smiled and set the carving aside. Small curls dusted the floor around him.

  “Is this where you brought me before?” I asked.

  “No. It’s near to it, though.”

  “Looks the same,” I said. A small fire crackled merrily beside us. It was far enough away that it wouldn’t spread to the blankets, but close enough that I could feel its warmth. Its glow made the shadows of the cave dance.

  “How do you feel?” he asked me.

  “Better,” I replied.

  “I thought that I had lost you forever,” he said softly, and for the first time, I heard sadness in his voice.

  “I killed him,” I said blankly. I was surprised at how much this world had changed me. I had gone from being a teacher and law-abiding citizen to cold-blooded killer in a snap.

  “So I understood from the blood on your clothing. You are a warrior, little one,” he said, wrapping one of his thickly muscled arms around me, his hand curling around my hip. I snuggled in close to him. He had washed the makeup and the arterial spray from my skin as I slept. He held my hand, studying the flat of my palm. I wanted him to look at me, in the eyes. I wanted his undivided attention. I reached up, pulling his face down to mine. His full lips covered mine. Our eyes were open as we kissed. He pulled away, grinning.

  “Your eyes are all lit up,” he said, reminding me that my body was still a captive of the Ak-hal, still undergoing their cruel and disgusting mating ritual.

  “Extinguish them,” I commanded. “I want the light of the Ak-hal to leave me forever.”

  “That isn’t enough,” he said. I realized that it sounded like I was using him. I placed my hand on his cheek, solemnly looking him in the eyes. I needed him to know that it was him—it had always been him, even before I had known that his planet even existed.

  “I want you, and only you,” I said firmly. A small smile lit his face. He leaned in, kissed me, and did as I had commanded. He moved over me, and I pushed his jumpsuit off over his shoulders, easing it downward, over his hips. The scent of his skin was all around me—masculine, spicy. He reached down between my legs, massaging my clit. My whole body reacted to his touch. Everything about him was warm, electric—everything that I knew that the Ak-hal weren’t. He dipped his finger inside of me, feeling my wetness. I cried out, my head rolling back.

  “Not yet,” he whispered, biting my lip teasingly. He pressed the tip of his penis against me, pausing for a moment. He entered me, and it hurt, much like I expected. But as he moved, slowly, easing his way in, he massaged my clit, and I felt my body respond. I writhed in pleasure beneath him. He trailed kisses along the soft skin below my ear. It was bittersweet.

  Something happened when he pulled his face back. As he looked into my eyes, I gasped in shock—I had been aware of his consciousness before, but it felt as though I had fallen into it, or it had expanded outwards to bring me in. I felt like I was floating in a star-filled expanse. I could feel Khofti’s ancientness. It was as though he was wrapped around me, but at the same time, I was wrapped around his consciousness, as well.

  It’s beautiful, I said.

  Yes, he replied. I have waited so long for this connection. His voice echoed inside of my head as well as outside of it. I couldn’t tell where I ended and he began, this space seemed to be both within and without.

  This is why the Kamani look for mates?

  Yes. It’s the joining of our souls.

  I drifted within his consciousness, seeing all the things that made him. They were images, unspecific, charted in the constellations within him. I couldn’t make sense of them. I could feel distinct sadness, grief, pain. But there was also happiness and warmth, which welled over all those things. I didn’t understand it, pushing against his consciousness with my own, asking him. He seemed to shake his head, as though to say, not yet. I’ll tell you soon. He was still alien to me. But I knew that, in time, it would all become comprehensible. We had eternity stretching before us.

  We lay side by side in silence. I watched as the fire burned low, thinking about the tiki torches that Jenny had been lighting at her barbecue the night that I had been abducted. I missed her, deeply. I could feel the press of Khofti’s consciousness against mine when a thought occurred to me. I looked at him, wondering why it had never occurred to me to ask before.

  “Have you…ever been with a woman before, Khofti?” I felt slightly jealous—had he experienced that joining of consciousness with another? Had she died? Was that where those deep feelings of grief floating within Khofti had come from? Was she being worn by one of the Ak-hal, or would I have to meet her someday? I didn’t want to meet her, but on the other hand, I wouldn’t wish the Ak-hal on anyone.

  “You have to ask? I told you. The Kamani mate for life, Shay.” He said it gently, not as an admonition. His twin golden rings looked into my eyes curiously.

  “Then how did you know how to do any of those things?” He had seemed pretty sexually experienced, in my opinion. Not that I really had a fully developed opinion on that, myself.

  “We all know how to pleasure our women,” he said with a good-natured laugh. “The Ak-hal should know, as well. Women might be an object to them, but they are a treasure also. Otherwise, they wouldn’t have ruined the Sky Jewel to get to you.”

  “They really wanted that, didn’t they?” I asked ruefully. It had been an amazing sight to behold. I felt bad that it was because of me that it had been ruined.

  “That was one of the things that they wanted in the false peace treaty.”

  “It was just a rock.”

  “Beauty is power to the Ak-hal,” he said softly, caressing my cheek with his hand.

  “What is power to the Kamani?” I asked.

  “Love. Kindness. Peace.”

  “The noble savages,” I commented, and he glanced at me questioningly. “Earth philosophy, I suppose. Has there ever been a bad Kamani?”

  “Of course.” He thought for a moment. “You asked for a story, little one. Don’t think that I have forgotten.”

  “Okay. Tell me,” I rolled on my side and propped my head on my hand expectantly. “Once, when only the first Kamani had awoken, the dark one was born,” he began.

  “The dark Kamani?”

  “Yes. He had black eyes. And his heart had clouds that covered it.” As he spoke, his fingers trailed across my skin, raising lines of goosebumps along it. “He was the outsider. He separated himself from the other Kamani.”

  “What was his name?”

  “He was called Fana.”

  “You said the Ak-hal wore Fana,” I said, recalling something he had said what seemed like a long time ago.

  �
��I haven’t gotten to that part yet.”

  “Sorry.”

  “You are forgiven, little one,” he said tenderly. “Fana was always alone. It isn’t like the Kamani to want to be alone. That is why we mate—two together,” he said, taking my hand and placing it palm to palm with his own. We both looked down at our hands. “The Kamani didn’t dislike Fana, but he disliked the Kamani. For he had offered his heart to one, the most beautiful of the Kamani, Aisha.”

  “It’s always over a woman.”

  “Love is a strong emotion. When it isn’t returned, it can fester, becoming the deepest sickness in all Aman.”

  “And Fana had it?”

  “Yes. Fana had it. And it made him bitter. He watched as Aisha gave herself to another. And it made his dark heart grow darker. He turned away from the Kamani, going off on his own and living inside of an ice cave for many years. And then, the Ak-hal came.”

  “Ah,” I prompted. “Are you skipping a lot?”

  “Well, yes. Fana lived in the cave on his own for centuries. During that time, the Kamani did much. A child was born to Aisha,” he paused and coughed. “It only made Fana more bitter, as he believed that her happiness should have been his to share in.”

  “The Ak-hal first approached the Kamani. They asked the Kamani for their help. They had just lost their planet, and all their women with it. They weren’t ever clear on how that had happened. They were… I don’t the word…”

  “Evasive?” I supplied. He nodded.

  “Yes. Evasive. They seemed sad, but it didn’t reach their eyes. It was as though they were playing at grief. Nothing touched them, not the beauty of Aman nor the kindness of the Kamani, and the Kamani, although wary, let the Ak-hal know how to grow things on Aman, as well as how to find unfrozen water.”

  “After all this, the Ak-hal asked the Kamani for a gift of their women, so that they could rebuild their race. The Kamani refused, saying that mating was a choice, and a shared destiny. We don’t view our women as objects to be gifted, and the chief of the Kamani foresaw that the Ak-hal wouldn’t ever treat our women as equals. This was when the Ak-hal turned from the Kamani in anger.”