Crimson Debt: Book 1 in the Born to Darkness series (41 page)

“I’m not judging you,” Reddix said heavily.
“I’m in no position to judge. I’m just saying.”

“I know. And
I’m
just saying that the
moment I saw Lissa’s face, so many years ago, I knew she was the
one for me—the only one.” He put a hand on his friend’s broad
shoulder. “You’ll understand when you find the one female for
you.”

Reddix shook off his hand. “Right, just find
a female—that’s the answer to everything. Except it won’t do me a
damn bit of good unless she can somehow cure my disease.”

“Ah, yes…that.” Saber coughed, feeling
stupid. How could he have been so insensitive as to talk about love
and bonding with a female to one with his friend’s condition?

“Yeah,
that.”
Reddix’s deep, rasping
voice was heavy with sarcasm. “That little thing that makes having
a female impossible. That minor detail which has kept me hiding in
the shadows half my life.”

“You don’t have to hide with me—you can take
off the hood,” Saber said quietly, indicating his friend’s shadowed
face. “I’ve seen you before, you know.”

“I’m keeping it on.” Reddix’s eyes flashed
silver from the depths of the hood. “You want to know the truth, I
almost never take off now, not even at home.”

Saber frowned. “But surely at home, where
everyone is used to seeing you…”

“It’s getting worse.” Reddix got up abruptly
and began pacing, his big body moving smoothly with animalistic
grace.

“You mean your RTS?” Saber shook his head. “I
didn’t know it could get worse.”

“Well, apparently, it can,” Reddix snapped.
“A
hell
of a lot worse.”

RTS was short for Reverse Touch Syndrome, a
rare disease which affected only Touch Kindred males and only one
in a thousand at that. The sufferers were almost all from the Star
Clan, which Reddix’s father had been. But there had never been any
RTS in his family before Reddix had been diagnosed with it not long
after they had come to manhood together.

Since they had grown up in the same town,
Saber could remember his friend before he had been afflicted with
the dreaded disease. Reddix had been so happy when he was
younger—outgoing and funny with a dry sense of humor. He had been
teased some for his beautiful features—Star Clan members were
notoriously lovely and Reddix was no exception. Still, he took the
teasing good-naturedly and fit in well with the group of young men
they ran with, even though he looked different from the rest of
them.

And then just at the age when they becoming
men, Reddix had been dealt a crushing blow—his Touch sense had
failed to develop. Or rather, it began to develop wrongly.

He’d kept it a secret for a long time—longer
than Saber would have thought possible. Back when he and his
friends were just starting to experiment, using their new Touch
senses to play tricks like pulling a favorite female’s hair or
blowing in her ear with newly developed
whisper-lips
, Reddix
had begun to withdraw. He started wearing baggier clothes and
jackets with high collars or hoods—anything to hide his muscular
body and handsome face. Anything to avoid the curious stares of
other people.

Finally his parents had caught on and taken
their only son for testing. Though the doctors had told them what
they had feared all along, the shock was still so great it nearly
tore their family apart. Reddix’s parents had distanced themselves
from him, had allowed him to hide himself away out of shame. His
friends had fallen away too. Only Saber and Reddix’s little sister,
Minda, had stuck by him.

Watching his friend pace, Saber felt a great
surge of pity for the male. RTS was a diagnosis every male of the
Touch Kindred feared above all else because it was crippling on so
many levels. It meant that Reddix would never be considered a
man—not really. Because of his inability to Touch a female with his
mind, he would never be able to bond with a female or truly satisfy
her by giving her the Deep Touch, which was what the Touch Kindred
considered necessary for a fulfilling sexual relationship. In
addition, the poor bastard had to feel the emotions of every other
person who looked at him or touched him as a physical sensation
upon his skin. It was no wonder he preferred to keep his hood
on.

Still, back home he had only worn the hood to
special occasions—gatherings of the Clans where he knew a lot of
strangers who hadn’t seen him before would be assembled. If it had
become necessary for him to wear it around everyone, even old
friends like Saber, he must really be in a bad way…

“Stop it!” Reddix barked, rounding on him
suddenly. “Stop it, Goddess damn you!”

Saber jumped, startled. “Stop what?”

“Stop pitying me! And don’t try to deny it.”
Reddix stabbed a finger at him accusingly. “I can
feel
your
pity like acid burning down my spine. And let me tell you,
Brother,
it isn’t pity you ought to be feeling—it’s
guilt.”

“Guilt?” Saber raised an eyebrow at him.
“Guilt for what exactly?”

“For screwing me over this way—for abdicating
your responsibility. For forcing me to take your place as a public
figurehead when you know perfectly well it’s my personal idea of
the Seventh Hell.”

Saber
did
feel a stab of guilt at his
old friend’s words and Reddix nodded at him with bitter
satisfaction.

“
Now
you understand,” he said, sinking
down on the couch beside Saber again.

“Reddix, please—I never meant—”

His friend held up a palm to stop him.

“You don’t have to say it. I feel your
remorse too—a stinging pain deep in my side like someone slipped a
knife between my ribs, right here.” He pressed one large hand to
his side.

“Goddess,” Saber murmured through numb lips.
“You can feel it that distinctly?”

Reddix grunted moodily. “It’s not pleasant
but it’s a hell of a lot better than what I’ll have to face if I
become Clan Overlord. Greeting the people, going out to meet the
crowds, feeling all of their emotions all over me…” He leaned
forward and Saber saw the glint of desperation in his pure silver
eyes. “Saber, I
can’t
do this. You have to come back.”

“You know I can’t.” Saber started to put a
hand on his friend’s knee and then stopped himself, remembering
that touching made the RTS worse. He sighed. “I’m so sorry, Reddix
but you know how our people would feel about Lissa and I being
together. The Clans would be horrified that I had taken a female of
my own clan as a bride and I can’t give her up. I wouldn’t even if
I could.”

Reddix’s muscular body twitched nervously and
then the big male jumped to his feet and began pacing again.

“So that’s it then. I’m doomed to a life of
pure hell because you couldn’t keep your dick in your pants.”

“I’m sorry.” Some of Saber’s guilt turned to
anger. “I didn’t plan this—any more than you planned on having
RTS.”

Reddix barked a laugh. “So you’re saying love
is like a disease? Like a fucking cancer eating into your heart
that you can’t cut out?”

“It’s not like that,” Saber protested. “You’d
understand if you could just—” He stopped abruptly, biting the
inside of his cheek.

But it was clear Reddix knew what he’d almost
said.

“If I could just
what
, Brother?” he
demanded. “Just find a female to love? One who won’t pity or resent
me for not being able to give her the Deep Touch? One whose
emotions I won’t have to wear like an ill-fitting suite of clothes
every Goddess damned day for the rest of my life? Well guess what?”
He laughed bitterly. “My parents and yours have already gotten
together and found me one.”

“What?” Saber frowned. “But I thought…who?
Who did they pick for you?”

“Tilla. You remember her?”

“Of course I do—she was just a few years
behind us at school.” Tilla was a gossipy girl well known for her
love of pretty clothes and expensive jewelry. Her father, a
prominent merchant on Tarsia, kept her well supplied with both but
she wouldn’t have struck Saber as Reddix’s type. Not that anyone
really was, not with his RTS. Still, if he had to pick anyone for
his friend, Tilla would have been the last on the list.

“Feeling her emotions is like swimming in
slime.” Reddix’s harsh voice sounded weary and disgusted. “And she
hates me. Nevertheless, she’s got the right bloodlines for
succession and she’s agreed to be my bride.”

“But…but why?”

“You know how important social position and
prestige is to her family—she wants to be the wife of the Overlord,
even if the Overlord is a fucking cripple who can’t give her the
Deep Touch. Who can’t even stand to touch her
physically
enough to have sex with her.”

“About that…” Saber cleared his throat. “If
you can’t even stand to touch her how will you—”

“I’ll have to manage, somehow. I have to give
her an heir and
soon
—before my RTS….” Reddix shook his head.
“The line of succession
must
be upheld.”

Saber sighed. “Look, Reddix, this doesn’t
have to be your life if you don’t want it. Give it up, like I
did.”

The silver eyes glinted. “You mean abandon my
post and abdicate my responsibilities? You know who’s next in line
for the succession of Clan Overlord if I pass on it, Saber?”

Saber shifted uncomfortably. “Um…isn’t it
Fendrick? He should do well as the Clan Overlord.”

Reddix looked away. “He might have—if he
hadn’t died in a duel a few days ago.”

“Fendrick’s dead?” Saber couldn’t keep the
shock out of his voice.

Reddix nodded grimly. “The damn fool was
always too quick to take offense—this time he happened to take it
from someone who was better with a knife than he was. Now that he’s
gone and you’re off playing house with your
amalla
, there’s
no one else besides me. And you know how hot blooded most of our
males are—do you remember what happened the last time there was no
clear leader to succeed the old Overlord?”

Saber felt sick. “The war of the Clans…” It
had happened hundreds of years before but the bloody conflict was
still well remembered. Every clan of the Touch Kindred had brought
forward a male they felt should be leader and none had been willing
to compromise. The resulting civil war had decimated the Touch
Kindred and cemented the belief of the other Kindred races that
they were too volatile and vicious to be allowed to consort with
the rest of the Kindred as a whole. It had resulted in the
banishment of the entire Touch Kindred people—what were left of
them after a winner had finally emerged, that was.

That leader had been Saber’s ancestor and up
until now, the line of succession had never been broken.
But I’m
breaking it now,
he thought to himself sickly.
I’ve already
broken it. Reddix is right—I’m forcing him into the public
eye—forcing him to life a life that’s going to be a living hell for
him. And all because I couldn’t help myself and had to have
Lissa.

“Stop.” Reddix put a hand to the flat plane
of his abdomen. “Now you’re making me nauseous. Your guilt is like
a stone in my gut.”

“Sorry.” Saber shook his head. “Reddix, I’m
desperately sorry about
all
of this. But I love Lissa and
we’re already bonded. There’s nothing I can do.”

“I didn’t think there was. I just had to ask.
Don’t worry, old friend, I’ve got a plan B.” Reddix sat back on the
couch.

“Plan B? What are you talking about?”

The melted silver eyes inside Reddix’s hood
flashed dangerously. “I’ve been to see Xandra.”

“The swamp witch? You went to see
her?
” Saber shook his head, disbelieving. “You’re
joking.”

“I wish I was,” Reddix said fiercely. “It
wasn’t a very fucking pleasant experience. But I needed help and
there was no place else to get it.”

“All Xandra can offer you—can offer anyone—is
death,” Saber protested. “You need to stay away from her,
Reddix!”

“Too late.” Reddix laughed, a deep, harsh
sound that hurt Saber’s ears. “We’ve already struck a bargain—a
bargain in blood. See?” He held out his arm and pulled up the
sleeve of his hooded jacket.

On the inside of his wrist Saber saw
something that made his gut clench with fear and loathing. There,
on his friend’s pale skin was a black mark shaped like a small,
slithering creature called a
lthss
. It looked remarkably
like the Earth animal called a snake except that a
lthss
changed color after it fed by sucking the blood from its victim,
going from black to red. The mark on Reddix’s inner wrist was still
small and still black. But what color would it be when Xandra was
done with him?

“Reddix,” he said. “You can’t do this. There
has to be another way.”

“To overcome the RTS long enough to get Tilla
pregnant and make sure the Clans don’t kill each other?” Reddix
barked a bitter laugh. “I don’t think so.”

“But this is extreme,” Saber protested. “I
really don’t think—”

“No, you don’t old friend. You don’t think
about anyone but yourself. But you know what—
I
do.” Reddix
jabbed a thumb at himself. “I’m thinking of my little sister—of
Minda. Did you know she’s found a male from the Wind Clan? He
doesn’t have much status but he loves her and he’s good to her.
They’re already joined and she’s going to have a baby. What do you
think will happen to that sweet, happy little family if the Clans
go to war? How long do you think they’ll survive? And who should
Minda side with—the clan she was born into? Or the clan she married
into?”

He stood suddenly and swayed unsteadily.

Saber jumped up to help him but Reddix shook
off his hand and took another step back.

“Stop touching me,” he muttered. “Just makes
it worse.”

“Sorry.” Saber took a step back. For the
first time it occurred to him that his old friend looked more than
just tired—he looked sick. He couldn’t get much of a look at
Reddix’s face with the hood in the way but from the little he could
see, his friend appeared unshaven and unspeakably weary.