Calder (17 page)

You failed the test.”

“You bastard.” Braden wanted to laugh and laugh. Calder had fooled him all right, the shithead. He’d been friends with Calder for years, and it always bothered him that he couldn’t help the man, that deeply fucked-up Shareem.

Along comes cute little Katarina d’Arnal, and weeks later Calder is sitting here, whole and strong and happy.

“I want to kiss her,” Braden said. He slid into his seat, gladly picking up the ale that Judith deposited in front of him. His headache had suddenly fled.

Calder lost his smile. “You touch her, you’re dead.”

Braden laughed, feeling good. “It’s like that, is it? You poor son of a bitch.”

“Who’s a poor son of a bitch?” a voice growled behind him. It was Ky, wandering into Judith’s in much the same state Braden had been.

Braden started to answer then shut up. No wonder Judith had grinned so hard at him. This was fun.

Aiden’s body warmed Braden’s side as the tall level-one Shareem slid into the seat beside him. “Who’s your friend?”

Braden buried his mouth in ale as Aiden ran his gaze over Calder’s body. Ky took a seat on Braden’s other side, pulling pretty Brianne d’Aroth onto his lap. The man didn’t take chances when there were too many other Shareem nearby, especially ones he didn’t know.

Brianne, smarter than either of her lovers, got it at once. Her eyes lit up but she said nothing.

Calder gave Aiden a cool stare. “If you don’t stop looking at me like that, Aiden, your face meets the table.”

“Hey, I can’t help admiring a pretty Shareem. Ky’s not pretty at all.”

“Face,” Calder repeated. “Table.”
Brianne bleated a laugh. Ky looked at Calder…truly looked at him. “Holy fuck.

What happened to you?”

Aiden was the last to catch on. He got out of his seat so fast he knocked it over.

“
Calder
?”

“That’s what
I
said,” Braden chortled.

“Shareem are slow,” Brianne said, smiling. “Look at his eyes. Look at
him
. It’s Calder.”

Braden slid his arm around Judith’s waist as she came back with more ale. “Did you recognize him, Judith?”

“Not the minute he walked in. I thought he was just a Shareem I hadn’t met. Then I thought about how odd that was—a Shareem I didn’t know? But the way he moved, the way he looked at me. I knew.”

“Women are more perceptive,” Brianne agreed.

Ky snorted. “Women stare at Shareem more than other Shareem do. Except Aiden.”

Aiden lifted his hands. “Cured. I’m all yours, Ky.”

“Oh, lucky me.”

“Where’s Katarina?” Brianne asked. “She’s responsible for the new you, isn’t she?”

“She is.”

Calder set his glass of ale down carefully and rose. No more hiding in shadows, no more watching the others from behind face-concealing cloths, no more shielding his body. His tunic reached mid-thigh, baring legs to the soft sandals most Shareem favored. He looked—normal. For a Shareem.

He picked up his sun-blocking robes but draped them over his arm as he sauntered past them.

“Katarina is waiting for me, gentlemen. I have an appointment with her.”

“The come-to-my-lair-pretty-lady kind of appointment?” Braden asked. His body got hot thinking about the last time he’d seen Katarina in Calder’s lair.
“Yes.” Calder’s smile was quiet. “And no, Braden, you’re not invited.”

“Selfish asshole.”

“You got that right.”

Calder gave them all another smug grin, turned his back and walked out. He slid on his sun-blocking robes as he went, and Braden saw him strolling down the street, looking around in wonder, like a prisoner finally freed.

*

Katarina finished lighting the candles, giving the room a delicate glow. She extinguished the lighting stick and set it aside, remembering how intrigued and frightened she’d been the first time she’d come here.

Water skimmed down the copper sheet Calder had made her face, her hands in the liquid. He’d played with her, made her feel wild and wicked for the first time in her life.

Here too he’d made her wear the tiny, tight leather dress, and he’d introduced her to discipline. Katarina had never known she’d like a man slapping her rear, but she did.

She liked it with his hand, and she’d liked it with his leather strap.

Calder had told her to come here and wait for him. He wouldn’t say how long he’d be away or when he’d arrive. He expected her to obey.

Katarina shivered. What they’d done in her house, before he’d discovered his healed skin, had taken her places she’d never gone.

Afterward, he’d taken her even more places. He’d given her a true taste of what women had willingly come here for him to do. Calder had been her master, and she’d begged him to do anything he wanted.

What would he do today?

Her opening tightened in anticipation. He’d told her to put on new clothes he’d bought her, a tight black corset, no panties, garters and stockings.
Katarina looked at herself in the reflective sheeting of the waterfall and smiled. She was sexy as hell.

She slid her fingers between her legs, finding herself warm and wet. Calder could keep her waiting a long time, but at least he’d taught her to relieve some of her own tension.

Katarina closed her thighs over her fingers, squeezing hard. She groaned with the beginnings of climax just as a door chime rang.

“Blast.” Katarina jerked her fingers free then she quivered in excitement.

Calder? Or someone delivering mail? She made her way through the secret panel to Calder’s apartment, pulled on sun-blocking robes from the hooks near the back door to cover herself and opened the door.

A woman stood there, not a patroller or a delivery person. Her gown and shielding robes looked costly, but she wasn’t Bor Nargan. Her forehead was too high, her eyes too large, and she didn’t cover her face.

“Where is the Shareem named Calder?”

“Not here.”

The woman pushed Katarina aside with surprising strength and looked around.

“I
said
, Calder isn’t here,” Katarina repeated. “Can I take a message?”

The woman focused on Katarina again, her gaze sharpening. “Don’t you know who I am?”

A rude, pushy bitch?
“Sorry, no.”

“I am Lady Demata from Delta-Terra. Suffice to say, I’m the richest woman in four sectors—and I made myself that way. I’m not accustomed to men who don’t keep appointments and then make me wait.”

“Calder canceled all his appointments.” Or so he’d said.
“Why?” She glared at Katarina. “Are you his errand girl? Be nice to me, sweetie. I might ask him to call you in to help. Maybe we can both use your services. Or just use you.”

Katarina drew back in distaste. Calder had said that many of the women who’d come to him disgusted him, and she now understood why.

“Calder is closed for business,” Katarina said in a crisp voice. “You can leave now.”

“I didn’t travel several dozen light years and ten dusty miles to be turned away by a lackey. He already put me off twice.” She reached behind her and slammed the door then pulled a pistol out of her robes and pointed it at Katarina. “Let me into this lair of his,
now
.”
Chapter Fourteen

Calder knew something was wrong the minute he entered his apartment. He smelled an alien perfume that wasn’t Katarina’s, felt a coldness in the air.

Katarina.

He’d walked back home filled with anticipation. Katarina waited for him, ready to play. He’d had no doubt she’d wear what he left for her; that she’d put it on and grow excited as she waited.

Calder wondered if she’d started touching herself, unable to resist the urge. He got hard picturing her stretched out on the black sheets, her legs spread, her hands working, her eyes closed in pleasure.

But when he walked into his apartment he froze, every enhanced sense telling him Katarina was in danger.

Quietly he slipped off his robes and crossed to the small control room where he could see all parts of his lair without being seen. From here, he used to talk to the waiting ladies, instruct them, watch them in cams that sent him feeds from each corner.

He didn’t need all the cams to see Lady Demata, the woman who’d been harassing him more than any other—holding a pistol on Katarina.

Shit.

His first impulse was to scream at the woman to get the hell away from Katarina.

But he made himself remain silent, fearing he’d startle her into shooting.

Making no noise, he left the overview room and slid back the section of wall that led to the lair. He’d reach the woman, disarm her and throw the bitch out.

“If Calder told you he refunded your money, then he did,” Katarina was saying.

“Go back home and find it.”
“It won’t be enough to compensate me,” the woman snapped. “I
want
him.”

“For your twisted fantasy?”

Calder’s heart pounded. He loved that Katarina was so brave, but now was not the time for courage.

“
Your
twisted fantasy is that he’s in love with you, isn’t it?” Lady Demata ranted as Calder made his quiet way toward them. “You believe you’ve tamed him, but I have news, darling. I know much about Calder. He’s serviced friends of mine. He figures out what you want and then he gives it to you. That’s the beauty of him. That’s why everyone wants him. I have some very interesting fantasies I want to play out. They’d shock you.”

“Calder is different now.”

“I’m sure every woman hopes so. Do you really think he’d fall in love with you? I wonder how he’ll use that fantasy to torture you.”

“Because you’re leaving, you’ll never know.”

Lady Demata’s mouth set. “Bitch!” She shot one of the candles, which exploded into wax and flame. “I’m going to let him do to me what no man has ever done. Do you want to watch? Maybe that will cure you of thinking he’s domesticated.”

Katarina started to answer but Lady Demata shot again. Calder leapt at Demata and grabbed her arm, and the shot went wide. A net of energy slammed out of the pistol, frying part of the roof and searing shut the door to his apartment.

“Shit!” Calder shouted. “Katarina, get out of here!”

He hit the ground as Lady Demata shot again, lightning forking across the room.

“Who the hell are
you
?” she demanded. “I want The Beast.”

“He’s not home.” Calder got swiftly to his feet at the same time Katarina hit the woman in the back.

Lady Demata stumbled and went down but before Calder could reach for her, she swung her arm around and shot at Katarina.
Katarina dove, but a lash of energy caught her side. She screamed, landed on the floor…and lay still.

The sound that came from Calder’s throat was primeval and savage. Lady Demata shot wildly, not trying to kill Calder, he realized, but trying to destroy his lair. Payback.

The polished copper waterfall exploded into shards of hot metal. The next shot made the bed burst into flame, the third sent the candles rocketing around the room in little combustions.

Calder tackled the woman. She wanted The Beast, she’d get him.

The real Beast—the one who protected the woman he loved.

Another shot seared open the wall, baring wiring and pipes. An explosion shook the building. Calder yanked the pistol away from Lady Demata, powering it down. He locked his arm around her waist and dragged her to the door to the green maze, shoving her through. “Get out!” he screamed.

Lady Demata, looking scared now, gathered her robes and fled.

Calder turned back.

His lair was engulfed in flames. They spilled from the walls and ceiling where the energy pistol had ripped open the light, heating and cooling systems. The rainspouts sprang to life but did little to dampen the fire fed by the fuel in the pipes.

Katarina lay unmoving on the other side of the wall of flames—and he saw a flame crawl onto her robes.

“Bloody fucking hell!”

The fire brigade would never get there on time. Would they even hurry when they discovered it was a Shareem residence that triggered the city alarm? They might move to save the buildings on either side, but it would be too late for the Shareem’s dwelling, and no one would much care.

The intense heat transported Calder back twenty years. He heard again the screams of the two women trapped inside the room that was supposed to be safe for them. He
smelled the flames, the acrid stench of burning flesh, the choking smell of plastic and wiring.

Memories of pain flashed through him so intensely it made him sick. He saw again the fire engulf his body as he grabbed each woman and flung her to safety. He remembered lifting his hands and seeing the fire burning him, consuming him, greedily eating him alive.

He’d fallen on his side, thigh flung over his bare cock, curling in on himself in instinctive preservation. Then he’d felt a weight on his body, agony screaming through him, then nothing.

Until he’d woken, a wreck of a man in hellacious pain while researchers coolly talked about killing him.

It took a split second for this to flash through his mind. In the next instant he saw Katarina, her shy look when he’d first come to her clinic, her need to help him pouring from her.

Then her wonder when she’d come to his lair, her compassion when she touched his face.
This must have hurt you so much.
Her generosity in figuring out a way to heal his skin, no matter how much it cost her in time and resources. She hadn’t done it for the sake of experimentation or to advance research.

She’d done it for him.

For The Beast.

For Calder.

Calder dove through the flames. He lifted Katarina in his arms and ran back through the fire, feeling it catch his hair, his tunic, his skin. She wore thick sun-blocking robes, thank the gods, and though flames had caught them, they’d protect her from the worst of it.
She opened her eyes and stared at Calder in horror. Calder shoved her down onto the tile floor in the maze, rolling her away from him. The flames in her robes extinguished and she scrambled to her feet, starting back for him.

“Get out!” he tried to shout.

His own body was already burning, his face melting—
just like last time
—and his voice wouldn’t work. He lifted his hands and saw the flames consuming the beautiful skin Katarina had just given him. Her gift. Because she loved him.