0642940001337283373 wind demon 03 Page 6

  "Mayhap he spread a glamour over you,” Kahmal suggested. “Sent you a subliminal."

  "No, he was too weak for such things and the neuroinhibitors flooding his system would not have allowed it. He was unable to send any kind of enthrallment our way."

  They made their way to the door of the containment cell.

  "I will always regret having hurt him as I did by going after him,” Kahmal said, staring at the door to the con cell.

  "I hurt him badly once,” Dorrie said. “Cut him right to the quick."

  "How?"

  Dorrie's eyes brightened with unshed tears. “When he was in the Be-Mod unit, there were sublims being fed to him. Sublims to make him need Bridie, to fall in love with her so he would aid the Resistance. I told him about them."

  Her words came back to haunt Dorrie: "Did you really think she would fall in love with you without a little help from us, Cree?"

  "What happened when he found out?"

  "Nothing,” Dorrie said. She motioned for Kahmal to open the door to the cell.

  "Are you sure you want to do this?” the Amazeen asked.

  "Just open the door,” Dorrie snapped.

  Kahmal took a deep breath and punched in the code, taking out her laser gun set to heavy stun to be on the safe side.

  "You won't need that,” Dorrie told her. “He won't come out until he's no danger to us.” She slipped past the door and into the containment cell.

  He was crouched in the corner, his eyes boring into her as she slowly approached him. She knelt down beside him.

  "I have your med, Kami,” she said quietly, reaching out to stroke the wet fur of the beast. It growled at her, showing its teeth, but she did not snatch her trembling hand back. She continued to smooth the beast's matted coat until it stopped growling and gave a single, pitiful whimper.

  "I know you are hurting, baby,” she said. “I'm here to make it better."

  Tears brightened Dorrie's eyes as she bent over the beast. Sweeping aside a section of the wet hair on the side of the beast's neck, she eased the needle into its flesh. So drained was the animal, it barely flinched as the thick, fiery liquid shot through its system. It simply sighed, quivered, and lay still.

  "Get out of there, Dorrie,” Kahmal ordered.

  Dorrie got to her feet and backed away slowly, making no sudden moves that might be misconstrued in the Reaper's glazed eyes. “It's all right, baby,” she said. “Everything is going to be all right.” She was barely out the door before she heard a yowl that raised the hair on her arms. As the lock to the containment cell door clicked to behind her, she slumped against the wall, her face in her hands.

  "I'll stay here until he's out of Transition,” Kahmal said gently. She had a dark green jumpsuit clutched in her arms and on the floor beside her was another pair of boots she hoped was the right size since the pair Prince Kamau had given Cree had ripped apart and was lying in pieces in the containment cell.

  Dorrie was sobbing. Her heart ached for the proud man who had been reduced to the pathetic animal in the cell. She'd seen him many times at some of the lowest points in his life, but she'd never seen him looking as hopeless as she had in the containment cell.

  "If I could get hold of the bitch who cursed him like that, I'd strangle her,” Dorrie said of the Reaper's long-dead mother.

  Kahmal's eyebrows drew together. “What do you mean? What woman? What curse?"

  Dorrie ran the back of her hand under her nose. “You don't know how he came to be a Reaper?"

  "I know he was made, but I never cared enough to ask how,” Kahmal stated.

  "Well, it's something you need to know. It goes a long way in explaining who he is."

  "Then I am interested in learning."

  "His mother cursed him before he was born,” Dorrie said. “She was one of the fabled Seven Sisters of the Sword, daughters of the royal house of Brell in Chale."

  "I vaguely remember Hael Sejm saying something about the Seven Sisters. She was one of them."

  Dorrie nodded and leaned against the wall. “They were attacked and raped by a band of Rysalians led by Drae Cree, Kam's father. All but one of them conceived, the exception being Sejm whom no man ever wanted to mount more than once."

  "Understandable,” Kahmal said dryly. “Who would want to hump such a witch?"

  "Because they'd been abducted from their home on Chale, raped and handed over as chattel to their rapists, Analeis Brell—Kamerone's mother—cursed the men and anything that might come of the rape.

  Analeis was Morrígú, the Seventh Daughter of a Seventh Daughter born with a caul, and her curse was fulfilled. When Kamerone was born, he was in beastly form but when he began changing to human form, his mother took on the animal nature herself. Drae Cree thought she was a beast trying to devour his son—for Analeis was cleaning off the afterbirth—and he killed her."

  "So in essence she not only cursed her unborn child, she cursed herself,” Kahmal said.

  "She became the beast she had made of her son,” Dorrie said.

  A long howl of grief undulated from the containment cell.

  "Help him!” Dorrie cried out to whatever entity was nearby. “Stop his torment!"

  Another wavering whine came from the cell, but it died down quickly as though an unseen hand had been laid on the suffering animal's head to soothe it.

  * * * *

  Sanchez and Ramirez were none too happy about traveling with the Amazeen but neither had a great desire to have Jose Ortega get his grubby hands on them. The Ionarians had taken the Major up on her offer to take them with her to Rysalia Prime. From there, they hoped to be able to find their way back to Ionary. At least with the Daughters of the Multitude they believed they'd be safe. It wasn't until the Reaper walked into the lounge and began glaring at them that they knew they had gone from the frying pan directly into the fire. "More women?” the Reaper shouted, his hands clenching into fists at his side. “You picked up more women?"

  "Now, Cree...” the Major began.

  "C ... Cree?” Ramirez repeated.

  "I didn't need any more gods-be-damned women! I'm drowning in estrogen now!"

  "Reaper!” Ramirez yelped, her eyes rolled back into her head and she fainted, dropping to the floor in a heap.

  "See?” Cree snarled, pointing at the unconscious woman. “You see?"

  Sanchez was staring at him with her mouth open and closing though no sound came out, her eyes wide and popping from her head. Like her friend, she knew exactly what he was and she was quivering in fright for the first time in her life.

  "Shut your mouth, woman!” Cree yelled at her. “You look like a gods-be-damned trout flopping on the bank of a dry stream!"

  "Stop scaring her,” Kahmal told him. “If it wasn't for her, you wouldn't have gotten the Triso!"

  "I don't need this!” the Reaper bellowed and turned to stomp off, his new boots too large for his feet and clomping against the floor.

  It was Sern who was the first to laugh. She had read things in the Reaper's mind that set her sides to splitting with laughter. Beside her, Ceatie was grinning as though he understood what had set his humanoid mistress to cackling with mirth.

  "Poor Kamerone,” Dorrie said, prying herself up out of her misery. “He's got two more females to worry about."

  "Reaper,” Sanchez repeated and had to fold her hands under her arm pits to keep them from trembling so violently.

  "Aye,” Chanz agreed, “but he's our Reaper."

  * * * *

  Dorrie sat down beside him as he hunkered once more in the containment cell. It was there he had gone to exorcize the demons that were riding him with jagged spurs. She leaned against his leg and it was an indication of how drained he was that he didn't order her not to touch him. "Just consider us your harem, Kam,” she said.

  "It's not funny, Dorrie,” he muttered. “I don't need all this pressure on my shoulders."

  "It's all in the perspective, baby,” she teased.

  "Ten women,” he bemoaned. “
Ten fucking women."

  "Some of us would be if you'd allow it but...."

  He growled a warning at her.

  "Okay, okay. We'll be at Rysalia Prime day after tomorrow,” she informed him. “You'll be exchanging ten of us for ten thousand."

  "Don't remind me,” he said on a long sigh.

  "You'll look back on this time and have plenty of stories to tell Jaelin,” she said, caressing his knee. “Just think of the insulting things you can impart to him about the weaker sex."

  Cree snorted. “Weaker my sore ass,” he responded.

  "Want me to stroke it and make it better?” she offered.

  He sighed again. “Dorrie...."

  "Do you remember the first time we met?” she asked.

  "I remember you jamming an airline down my throat in the Be-Mod unit,” he answered. “And you were none too gentle doing it, wench."

  "Aye, well, you weren't breathing,” she said. “I wasn't going to tippy toe putting in the tube."

  "And you gave me Triso when I wasn't supposed to get it."

  "Did I do that?"

  "You know gods-be-damned well you did,” he countered with a yawn.

  "What can I say? I'm a sucker for sexy amber eyes."

  "Dorrie to the rescue,” he said and surprised the hell out of her by laying his head on her shoulder.

  “Gods, but I'm tired. My head hurts,” he said.

  "Lay it right here, stud,” she said, patting her lap and was shocked even more when he did as she suggested. He slid his hand under the upper part of her leg and curled his fingers around her thigh.

  They sat like that for a long while. At some point, his free hand crept around hers and their fingers entwined. She stroked his forehead and hummed gently.

  "You're a good friend to me, Dorrie,” she heard him say.

  "Aye, well, I'd make you a better lover."

  He made a chuffing sound to that statement.

  In a few moments, she knew by his breathing that he was sleeping.

  * * * *

  "What kind of ship?” Kahmal asked. She'd been awakened after only an hour of rest and was out of sorts as she hurried beside Chanz. "We believe its Serenian,” Chanz reported. “A StarRaider class with one hell of a heat signature. It is loaded to the gills with weapons."

  "Did you try to raise it?"

  "Aye, but they are ignoring us. We did a scan and it's a vessel manned exclusively by women."

  "Aye, well the scan may be accurate but then again it might not,” Kahmal said, “if they have the engineering Waberi mentioned to Zainabu and Dorrie, there could be men on that ship."

  "Could they be going where we're going?” Aegean inquired.

  "Serenians on their way to Rysalia Prime for the Feast?” Sern questioned. “I wouldn't think so. They have Daughters of the Multitude on Serenia but they aren't as rabid as the ones on Rysalia Prime."

  "What about Serenians on their way to rescue Reaper cadets?” Dorrie asked, hope glowing in her cornflower blue eyes. “What you want to bet there's a man in there with the last name McGregor?"

  "If they are heading for Rysalia Prime to rescue the cadets, they'd better have men on board,” Chanz said, “for Serenian women aren't known for their fighting skills.” She thought for a moment. “Although I've heard the royal house has had some pretty powerful warrior women in the past."

  "Maybe their leader is a McGregor woman,” Dorrie suggested. “Could this be the ship your brother mentioned?"

  "Demissie said it was a man with whom he dealt,” Zainabu insisted. “He would not deal with a woman.

  You saw how reluctant he was to deal with me and I am family."

  "If the StarRaider docks on Rysalia Prime, they will be inspected, not just scanned. You and I both know the Rysalians aren't going to allow even a single male anywhere near the Titaness,” Dorrie said. “If the Serenians are mounting a rescue they'd know that and it stands to reason they'd send only women. I imagine the scan is accurate where this ship is concerned. Try opening a channel, Deon,” Kahmal ordered.

  Deon did as she was told. “Unknown Serenian StarRaider. This is the LRC the Alluvia captained by Major Akkadia Kahmal on route to Rysalia Prime. What is your destination?"

  Silence met the hail.

  "They are gearing up their weapons,” Aegean said quietly.

  "Expecting us to attack them?” Kahmal inquired, her eyes wide.

  "So it would seem."

  "Put me on screen,” Kahmal ordered.

  "Unknown Serenian StarRaider, I am...."

  "We know who you are, ‘Kadia."

  An image settled on the vid-com screen and Kahmal slumped back in her seat. She stared at the young woman who was glaring at her. “It's been a long time, Raphaella,” Kahmal said.

  "Not long enough,” the daughter of the Domestic queen stated. “Turn your ship around and go back to Amazeen or we will blow you out of the sky. Believe me when I tell you we have the capability and the desire to do so."

  "I am on a mission to Rysalia Prime,” Kahmal stated.

  "It doesn't matter. Turn back or suffer the consequences of your failure to do as I command,” Raphaella snapped.

  Cree walked onto the bridge at that moment. He stared at the beautiful woman on the vid-com and wondered why she bore Kahmal such hatred. He switched his gaze to Sern.

  "She is the Princess Raphaella, daughter of the Domestic Queen. She is Terran born so that accounts for her rudeness," Sern sent to him. "And she is a traitor to our people. There is a bounty for her capture."

  "What did she do?"

  "She helped a Reaper escape Amazeen, taking four members of his crew with them. If she's caught she will be executed for her crime."

  "Which Reaper did she aid?"

  Sern frowned. "Why don't you ask her? She is priming her weapons to annihilate us and I've got my hands full here, Cree."

  The Reaper walked over to Kahmal's command chair and laid his hands on the Amazeen Major's shoulders, feeling her tense beneath his touch. “Princess Raphaella,” he said. “I am Kamerone Cree."

  Raphaella gasped, the sound loud over the vid-com. “Cree,” she whispered, the word said in awe. “That is your mission, Akkadia? Taking the Prime Reaper to Rysalia Prime for execution?"

  "I understand there is a bounty out for you,” Cree continued. “As one who knows all too intimately the feel of an Amazeen noose tightening around his neck, I can sympathize."

  "Why are you not restrained?” Raphaella asked.

  "There is no reason to shackle him,” Kahmal said. “He's a free man."

  "You are not a prisoner on Kahmal's ship?” Raphaella asked, her gaze locked on Cree.

  "It started out that way,” he admitted.

  "But no longer?"

  "Attribution was declared by me, Lt. Melankhoia Chanz and Lt. Cirolia Sern,” Kahmal said, reaching up to cover one of Cree's hands with hers. “Our lives belong to him as does the loyalty of my crew."

  "Attribution,” Raphaella said. “That is an honorable act, indeed, and deserving of your loyalty, ‘Kadia."

  "It is a loyalty he has richly earned and we mean to uphold,” Kahmal said. “That holds for my entire crew."

  Raphaella seemed to relax. “Reapers are not what we were led to believe, are they, ‘Kadia?"

  "I only know this one and he is nothing like the way he was portrayed to me,” Kahmal responded.

  "We would appreciate it if you would have your gunners stand down,” Cree said. “I've got enough of a headache already without having the top of my cranium blown off in the bargain."

  Raphaella nodded and looked off to one side, apparently giving the order to her crew.

  "How is it you are in command of a Serenian vessel, Raphie?” Kahmal asked.

  "You are going to Rysalia Prime?” Raphaella countered, ignoring the question.

  "To rescue my bloodkin,” Cree admitted.

  "Like father, like son,” Raphaella said.

  Cree stiffened. “Son? Of whom do you speak?"


  "If you are caught there, you will be hanged,” Kahmal said, knowing full well the identity of the son to whom Raphaella referred. “You know that, Raphaella."

  Raphaella cocked a shoulder. “We all have to die sometime,” she said. “Unless you're a Reaper."

  "Even Reaper's die, young one,” Cree told her. He did not miss Kahmal trying to forestall the identity of the Reaper to whom Raphaella alluded.

  "Not on my watch they won't,” Raphaella said. “Your bloodkin will not meet the fate set aside for them.

  I am here to make sure of that. We will run interference for those snatching the cadets from harm's way.

  There isn't a ship in the Rysalian fleet that can hold a candle to mine and we are loaded with more firepower than you can imagine."

  "You have a McGregor woman on board?” Dorrie asked, coming to stand beside Cree.

  Raphaella nodded. “Maeve Lynne McGregor? Who are you and why do you ask?"

  "She's the leader,” Dorrie whispered to Cree. “Not this one."

  "I wouldn't be so sure,” Kahmal disagreed.

  "I am Dorrie Burkhart, a Terran once hostage of the Rysalians."

  "Why do you ask about McGregor?” Raphaella persisted.

  "I was the mate of Prince Raine McGregor,” Dorrie said. “On Terra."

  "He is my cousin!” a young blonde woman said as she rushed to Raphaella's side. “He is alive? He is well?"

  "When we were taken from Terra he was,” Dorrie replied. She looked at the woman and had to admit she certainly didn't look like a war leader. She was petite and rather fragile-looking.

  "Why are you being hunted, young one?” Cree asked Raphaella, deciding she was the one in charge.

  “What crime did you commit against your race?"

  Raphaella lifted her chin, her eyes flashing with pride. “Nothing of consequence, milord Prime Reaper. I am merely the mate of Khiershon Cree and it was I who set him free!"