Revealed (12 page)

“Would it feel good?” she asked softly.

“As good as I could make it for you, sweetheart.” Rast shifted. “I’m, uh, kind of big if you know what I mean. But as long as you were wet enough and hot enough, I know you could take me.” He sighed. “It would be a fantasy come true.”

Nadiah felt her cheeks getting even hotter. “You…you fantasize about doing that with—to—me? Making love to me? Fucking me?”

Slowly, he nodded. “God help me, I know I probably shouldn’t. Nothing’s going to come of it but—”

“Wait a minute.” Nadiah held up her hand to stop him. “What do you mean ‘nothing’s going to come of it?’”

He sighed again. “Exactly what I said. Look, Sylvan warned me off you before we left. He told me that no matter what happened, I’m not allowed to, er, change the color of your eyes. And I swore I wouldn’t.”

“What?” Nadiah felt like someone had dropped a cold lead weight into the pit of her stomach. “So even if you win the challenge you’re not going to…to take me?”

“I
can’t
, sweetheart. Try to understand,” Rast pleaded. “I gave my word. Besides, Sylvan told me how important virginity is on your planet. I can’t take that away from you—no matter how much I might want you.”

Nadiah pulled away from him and sat on the edge of the couch. “So all that…that talk about it being my body to do with as I pleased, that wasn’t true, was it?”

Rast blew out a breath in obvious frustration. “Of course it was true. It
is
your body to do what you want with.”

“Unless I want to give it to the man I lo—a man I care for,” she said, hoping he didn’t notice her blunder. “Is that right?”

He ran a hand through his hair. “Look, I didn’t mean—”

“You didn’t mean any of it.” Nadiah stood abruptly, suddenly furious. “I guess I should go. You and Sylvan have already decided between the two of you what’s best for me so there’s nothing for me to do here.”

“Nadiah…sweetheart,” he begged but she shook off his restraining hand and marched back to the end of the ship. Locking herself in her tiny, closet-sized bedroom she threw herself on the narrow bed and put her arms over her head.

Her body was still throbbing with desire but now her head was throbbing too—with a whole different kind of ache. As much as she tried to push them back, she could feel hot tears coming to her eyes. Lies, everything Rast had been telling her was lies.
For a minute there I thought he really cared for me. Maybe even loved me. But
if he really wanted me, if he really cared, he wouldn’t let anything stand between us,
she thought miserably. She forgot she didn’t want to be bonded to anyone but a Kindred, forgot that she’d hated Rast when she first met him.

All she could remember now was his soft, low voice as he described all the things he wanted to do to her…and the look on his face when he’d explained that no matter how much he wanted her, he was never going to do them.

It took almost three solar days to sort through the shifting debris jettisoned from the Fathership but at last
Merrick
found what he was looking for. The pod was a sleek, elegant cylinder not much bigger than a coffin and like all Scourge equipment, it was dead black with glowing green etching on the sides. He pulled it inside with his energy net, barely fitting it in the cramped confines of the airlock.

Once the ship’s hull was sealed again, he opened the inner door and dragged the pod inside, careful not to touch the poisonous runes that ran along its black sides. They were made of the metal which filled the core of the Scourge home world—he knew of few things more deadly.

Taking his time, he popped the seals along the side of the long black pod and was rewarded with a faint
hiss
. So at least the inner contents, whatever they were, hadn’t been compromised. That was good. If it was some kind of equipment he could probably sell it or maybe even modify it to fit his star-duster. The Scourge had been evil bastards but their gear was always top notch. Also—

But his train of thought was abruptly cut off when he swung open the pod’s lid and saw what was inside.

A smaller, semi-transparent cylinder was nestled inside the life pod like an egg within an egg. This one was made of a pure, milky-white crystal and it hummed very faintly, a soft musical sound that even
Merrick
’s sharp ears could barely detect. But it wasn’t the cylinder itself—which he recognized as a rare and expensive stasis chamber—that held his attention. It was what lay inside it.

Curled inside the translucent crystal shell, like a baby bird waiting to hatch, was a small, fragile looking human female.

Merrick
’s breath caught in his throat with surprise and knelt to get a closer look at her. She was completely naked and so petite that at first he thought she must be a child. But the full curves of her breasts and her softly rounded hips convinced him otherwise. There was also a tiny, neatly shaved mound of dark curls at the apex of her sex—oh yes, she was fully mature, a perfect, exquisitely formed female.

She no longer reminded him of a baby bird, now he thought of the fanciful stories his mother had told him when he was little—stories of a beautiful young girl charmed into a magic sleep within the heart of a jewel that couldn’t be broken until the right male came to free her.

He ran one hand over the thin crystal shell—it hummed, vibrating faintly under his fingers.
Merrick
shook his head. A stasis chamber—no
wonder
his instruments hadn’t detected any life signs. The chamber had slowed down all her vitals until they were almost nonexistent. She probably only drew breath once or twice a day—if that. And her heartbeat had been slowed too, probably to a single beat per hour.

He wanted to see her face but a cloud of long black hair obscured it. There were a series of buttons on one side of the crystal chamber and he pressed them carefully, in the order that was indicated. A faint, musical chime sounded and the top shell of the chamber melted away, like snow in strong sunshine. Finally, the female’s form was completely revealed.

What
Merrick
saw when the stasis chamber opened made him frown grimly. Someone had been beating this female—maybe even torturing her. The semi-transparent crystal had hidden what he could now clearly see as bruises on her upper arms and inner thighs. Also, her pale, porcelain skin was marked all over with tiny, cruel wounds.

Merrick
felt a surprising surge of pity in his gut. Gods, what the fuck had been done to her? And who had done it?

Though he wasn’t known for his people skills,
Merrick
didn’t approve of harming females. Though they were frightened of his scarred visage and rough ways, he had never touched a woman in anger in his life, and he had only contempt for anyone who would. It was beneath a male to hit or hurt one who was powerless to defend against the attack. Only scum would do such a thing.

Of course, opening the chamber broke the stasis. The female began breathing again and the pink flush to her skin proved her heart was pumping blood at a regular rate. But though her vital signs were returning to normal, she still hadn’t woken up. Wondering if her face had been marked,
Merrick
brushed the silky, black strands of her hair away.

There were no wounds on her cheeks but someone had blacked one of her eyes for her—a ring of dark purple that marred the delicate perfection of her features. His big hands curled into fists at the sight and he felt a strange stirring in his chest. Could it be…pity he felt? It wasn’t an emotion he was familiar with but he thought it must feel something like this. Against his will, he was moved by the map of abuse he saw written on the small female’s pale skin.

She stirred and this time he thought of a doll, one with perfectly painted features. But no doll he knew of made faces of fear and pain in its sleep. And no doll shivered and cried out, begging to be left alone.

“No,” the girl moaned, in a soft contralto. “No, please…not again. I’ll do anything but don’t…” Her last words were lost in a mumble of sleep talk but she had begun to thrash inside her crystal shell, her face a mask of agony. It was almost as though she wasn’t just remembering the pain that had been done to her—she was still somehow feeling it. He didn’t know how he knew that, but
Merrick
was sure of it.

Concerned that she would hurt herself, he reached down to gather her into his arms. She was so light and small it was almost like holding nothing. To his surprise and discomfort, she quieted at once and cuddled close to his chest. Her long black hair draped like a shawl over his arm as she nuzzled her cheek against his shoulder.

Now
what the fuck am I supposed to do?
Merrick
looked down at the girl in his arms uncertainly. She had to wake up sometime but he didn’t want her to be upset when she did.
And let’s be honest, if she gets a look at me, she’s gonna be upset.
True. Any female waking up from a traumatic experience and seeing his scarred face and mismatched eyes would be terrified, not comforted.
Better put her back down.
He started to put her back in the chamber…and stopped. She felt so small and fragile in his arms—a delicate ornament that might break if he wasn’t very, very careful.

Don’t be stupid,
he told himself roughly.
She’s just a female like any other. Put her down before she wakes up and screams bloody murder.
Then she stirred against him, nestling closer to his warmth, and his heart seemed to skip a beat. Goddess, what was
wrong
with him?

She stirred again and this time her bruised eye and cheekbone pressed against his arm. A faint cry came from her lips and an expression of pain passed over her delicate face. Though he usually didn’t give a damn for the suffering of others, the soft sound of distress moved something inside
Merrick
.

A memory, long buried, surfaced in the back of his mind. He remembered himself running to his mother with some small wound—so long ago it was, back when his true father still lived. And his mother…
She kissed it better. She kissed it better and it didn’t hurt after that.

Merrick
frowned. How long had it been since he’d thought of that—since he’d let himself remember that perfect, early time in his life before everything went to the seven hells? Years, probably. Dwelling on the past was yet another weakness he didn’t permit himself. And sometimes it hurt more to remember the good times than it did to remember the bad.

Merrick
looked at the Earth girl’s black eye again. Without thinking about it, he leaned down and pressed his lips to the dark ring of bruised skin. Then he asked himself why the hell he’d done such a thing—especially with a female he didn’t even know.

At the brush of his lips, the girl in his arms stiffened and then stretched, like a cat waking up from a nap.
Merrick
pulled back quickly and got ready to put her down in a hurry. She was about to open her eyes and see him for the first time, and that was never a good thing as far as females were concerned.

But when her eyelids, ringed with thick, black lashes, finally fluttered open to reveal large, dark brown eyes, there was no fear in them. Instead,
Merrick
saw only relief.

“Oh, thank God!” she whispered hoarsely. To his surprise, she threw her arms around his neck and held him close. He felt hot tears on his neck and then she was whispering again. “Thank you,
thank you
for coming. I thought no one would. I thought he’d kill me. Oh God…”

Merrick
was bewildered. She had seen him but hadn’t screamed or tried to get away. Instead, she was hugging him tight enough to cut off his circulation. “Wait a minute,” he protested. “Wait a fucking minute, uh…”

“Elise,” she finished for him. “Thank you, thank you so much!”

“Elise,” he began. “I’m not sure who you think I am but I don’t even know who you are.” He frowned. “I don’t know who hurt you either but I’ll be happy to kill the son of a bitch for you if you’ll point him out.”

“Then…then you’re not here to take me away? To save me?” She pulled back from him, her delicate features twisted into a knot of pain and fear. “Please don’t leave me here—
please.
He’ll kill me—I know it!” She hugged him again, her grip around his neck panicky-tight, and he could feel fresh tears against his shoulder. “Please,” she whispered. “Please, just take me away from here, away from him.
Please.”

Merrick
reflected that it was a good thing he didn’t share the weakness other Kindred had—that urgent need to find and claim a bride. If he had, the feel of the tiny, fragile female in his arms and the sound of her soft, desperate pleas in his ear might have been his undoing.

As it was, he wasn’t quite sure
what
to do. The role of comforter wasn’t one he’d ever played. Most females got away as quick as they could when they met him—not a single one had ever sought shelter in his arms.

“Calm down. It’s all right,” he said roughly and patted her gingerly on the back.

“But he’ll get me! He’ll find me!” The little female was getting more hysterical, not less. Something else was needed—he had to reassure her somehow or she was going to completely lose it. And the last thing he needed on his star-duster was an out of control female.