15 Targeted (45 page)

Emily shivered. “I admit waking up in the middle of a bunch of horny guys with no idea at all how I’d gotten there wasn’t the best experience I’ve ever had in my life. Three of them tried to attack me—if it hadn’t been for Saskia—”

“Don’t speak of it.” There was a pained look on the big Kindred’s face. “Please, I beg you.”

“All right,” Emily said quickly. “I was just saying that these Wulven Kindred guys are dangerous. Somebody needs to put them on a leash—literally.”

“They are
extremely
dangerous—even more so when their Beast is near the surface,” Tragar assured her. “You were blessed by the Goddess to have escaped with your life. My point is—you can’t trust anything the voice witch told you. You have to purge her teachings from your mind,
Khalla.”

“All right,” Emily said. “I don’t remember much of anything she said anyway. I—”
The Black Milk,
whispered a tiny voice in the back of her brain.
You must drink the Black Milk.

“You what?” Tragar asked, frowning.

“Nothing. I lost my train of thought.” Emily frowned and shook her head. “Look, it’s late. We should get to bed.”

“True.” Tragar pushed her gently off his lap and fastened his trousers. Emily couldn’t help noticing that his shaft was still extremely hard and achy-looking. She felt guilty—what they had done had probably given him the worst case of blue-balls in history. But if so, the big Kindred didn’t say a word about it. He simply nodded at her as he rose from the bed. “I must go and get ready for sleep.”

“All right.” Emily smoothed down her nighty and crawled under the living flower blanket. She was relieved to find that the sheets below it seemed to be made of actual fabric—not petals. “I’ll just…” She yawned. “Just wait for you here.”

“As you wish.” Tragar stroked a strand of hair from her face tenderly. “Pleasant dreams, my
Khalla.”

“Thank…” Emily yawned again. “Thank you,” she finally managed to get out. She thought he answered something but she didn’t catch his words. Now that the constant ache and pressure in her breasts had eased she felt relaxed and sleepy. It had been a very,
very
long day and suddenly she couldn’t hold her eyelids open one more second.

Her last sight was of the big Kindred walking towards the fresher but her eyes closed before she could see him pass through the curtain of vines.

* * * * *

Tragar went into the fresher, ostensibly to get changed into the blue sleep trousers his old Master had loaned him. Actually, though, he needed time to himself—
private
time.

He stripped down and turned on the shower, getting into the coldest spray he could stand—then he turned it even colder. Control—he must regain control! But every time his shaft started to go down, he remembered the soft moans Emily made when he sucked her breasts…or the hot feeling of her sweet pussy wrapped around the head of his shaft…or the sweet, forbidden taste of her nectar…

Gods, what have I done?
He had committed the worst kind of sacrilege known to his people and now it seemed he must continue committing the same blasphemous act over and over again, sucking the nectar from Emily’s breasts because it refused to thin and flow as it should.

Shouldn’t have swallowed it, at least. Should have spit it out,
he told himself. But she’d already asked him if he didn’t think it was “gross” to ask him to relieve her need by suckling her breasts. As if such a thing could be possible! But for some reason she was insecure about her body, especially since the
Tenrah
was causing it to change so dramatically. Tragar hadn’t wanted her to feel she was disgusting him when nothing could be farther than the truth. In fact, he felt honored beyond measure that she would trust him to do such a thing, especially considering the pain in her past.

But if he was honest with himself, it wasn’t only his wish to keep Emily from feeling bad about her body and the service he was performing for her that made him swallow her nectar rather than expelling it from his mouth. Her nectar had been too sweet—to deliciously addictive to lose a single drop. Though he knew what he had done was wrong, he could scarcely wait to do it again. Could scarcely wait to hold her warm, willing body in his arms and hear her moan for him as he pulled her tight peaks deep into his mouth.

This is why drinking the nectar of a Khalla is forbidden,
he thought.
Or one of the reasons, anyway. Once her nectar fills your mouth you want nothing more than to possess her completely.

It was true—a
Khalla
was considered a national treasure—an entity who had to be free to wander the world, dispensing healing and fertility wherever she went. She could not be tied to one male—not even her chosen mate. She was meant to go among the people and bring them hope and strengthen their faith in the Goddess. How could she do that if she was being kept under lock and key by some jealous male who wanted nothing but to keep her and her sweet nectar for himself?

It was wrong and already he felt the impulse to keep her close, to never let her go. Tragar fought it but he feared it was a losing battle.

No,
he told himself sternly as the icy water flowed over his still rigid shaft.
It is not for one such as I to possess the love of a Khalla. I do not deserve her—not after all I’ve done. I must get her safely to the Holy Mountains of Rageron and then resign myself to giving her up to another male—a male more worthy and pure of heart than I.

Just the thought of that—the idea of another male’s hands on Emily’s soft, supple body, was enough to bring a low, possessive growl to his throat. Tragar swallowed it with difficulty. He had to fight these feelings—feelings which he’d believed were dead and buried with his beloved Landra. But how could he fight the feelings of love and need if he had to continue to suck the delicious nectar from his
Khalla’s
breasts and hear her moan his name each time the sweet release made her come? Tragar didn’t know.

Oh, he was in trouble here…so much fucking trouble…

* * * * *

“According to the spybot the female is fine and all of the star-silver devices have been removed.” Y shut off the viewscreen which he had been using to view the somewhat distorted images sent by the small, furry genetically altered rodent his Master had sent to spy on the Earth female.

“
Yes, it is most inconvenient,”
Master Two buzzed like an annoying insect in Y’s brain.

“What shall we do about it?” Y asked. “Do you want me to kill her now?”

“
No, of course not, you idiot! Why would you ask such a thing?”

“Because you told me that you wanted the girl dead.”

“
I also told you I wanted the Verrak assassin to care for her before she died. You do not understand the subtleties of the situation, Y. He cares for her but I want him to care more—I want to see them bonded before we tear them apart.”

“Bonded?” The word sounded strangely natural in his mouth yet Y didn’t know what it meant.

“
Yes, yes—bonded!”
the Master hissed impatiently.
“It is a life-long tie which forms between a Kindred and his chosen female when they give themselves to each other completely. Our assassin friend was bonded once before and he lost the female he loved and yet survived. I do not think he will survive a second loss but we shall see…”

“So their love must be complete before we kill them?” Y didn’t like the idea a bit—again, it seemed needlessly cruel. But who was he to criticize the Master?

“
Exactly. So they must get closer quickly. And do you know what brings people together?”

“I have no idea,” Y said honestly.

“
Adversity. So let’s throw a little in the way of our lovely couple, shall we?”
The Master cackled wildly in his head.
“Let’s see what the Verrak say when they find out that the contract I paid for still has not been fulfilled.”

And Y’s head was filled with his mad laugher—laughter that went on and on and would not cease, no matter how he wished it would.

Chapter Twenty

“This is the place.” Kate looked around, her fiery red ringlets moving in the slight breeze. “This is the right school—I
know
it.”

“But it’s not called George Washington Elementary,” Rone objected, gesturing to the lettering on the brick side of the administration building. “It says ‘Center for Academic Excellence’.”

“I don’t care.” Kate narrowed her clear green eyes, almost as though she could see past the letters and right through the side of the school to something else. “This is it—no question. It
feels
right. And besides, it’s the place I saw in that big Havoc’s head
and
the dream.”

“Then it must be so.” Rone inhaled, taking in the myriad of smells that swirled around the long brick building they stood in front of. He wished he had just a whiff of the missing girl’s scent to start with. If he knew what she smelled like, he could track her to the ends of the Earth with no problem. But all they had was a vague idea of what she looked like, the name of the school she worked for, and her last name.

It wasn’t much to go on but he and Kate were doing their best. For a little while they’d been certain they had her—there was a George Washington Elementary in the state of North Carolina which felt right and had a Ms. Brooks working there.

However, when they got there, Ms. Brooks had turned out to be an older female on the edge of retirement, who had been happily joined to an Earth male for the past forty years. The false lead had been incredibly frustrating—especially since they knew the girl they were seeking was in grave danger and might be killed at any moment.

Then Kate had been woken in the middle of the night by a Knowing dream—a kind of vision which occurred very rarely. In fact, Rone had only known her to have three other such dreams in the three years they had been joined.

It scared him to fucking death when she had them because of their effect on Kate. He’d been holding her when this one occurred, watching her sleep because he loved the look of peace on her beautiful face.

Without warning, she had gone stiff in his arms. Then her eyes rolled up, showing only the whites while her petite body trembled all over. It looked like she was having some kind of a deadly seizure and indeed, the first time it happened, he’d been sure she was. This time, however, he’d recognized the signs and waited with a pounding heart to hear what she had to say.

“Tampa…” Kate had whispered in a soft, ghostly voice that sent chills down his spine. “The girl is in Tampa. Look to the North of the city…find her there…or find where she has been. Her loss is great for she is the one…beloved of the Goddess…”

Rone had waited a moment but there was no more forthcoming. Just Kate rigid as a board in his arms, her face pale and dreaming.

“Kate?
Lalli?”
he’d asked anxiously, using his pet nickname for her and patting her cheek.
Lalli
meant girl cub or little girl among the Wulven people. It was how she’d looked to him when he first met her—before he realized her diminutive size wasn’t due to extreme youth or inexperience.

Even after finding out she was a fully grown female, the nickname had stuck. Kate didn’t seem to mind—in fact, she’d confessed that she rather liked feeling little and protected when she was with him, though she fiercely resented any implication that she was small or helpless from anyone else.

At that moment, as she trembled in his lap, she had seemed so fragile. Rone was frightened, as he always was, that she wouldn’t come back this time. Finally, though, her eyelids fluttered.