Authors: Evangeline Anderson
So when the flaming knife slid between her ribs, it came as an unwelcome, though not completely unexpected surprise.
When it happened, Nadiah was in the tiny food prep area of the small ship, making herself a cup of hot chocolate. It was a sweet, creamy Earth drink she’d learned to love while aboard the Mother Ship. As a parting gift, Sophia had made sure she had a large supply of the tiny packets filled with light brown powder for which Nadiah was eternally grateful. The warm, soothing drink seemed to ease her mind and make her feel less unhappy somehow, and just at that moment she felt a great need for what Kat called “the healing power of
chocolate.”
It wasn’t just the upcoming challenge that made her upset and anxious—it was the state of her relationship with Rast. Not that what they had could even properly be called a relationship.
In every old book and story Nadiah had read as a child, the male who dared to challenge the blood bond was passionately in love with and utterly committed to the female he was challenging for. The stories seemed to indicate that it was the intensity of the challenger’s love as much as the strength of his blood that broke the bond. But there was nothing like that between herself and the human detective—nothing but a vague uneasiness and uncertainty.
Nadiah had tried talking to him but their conversations always came out awkward and stilted. He never seemed to look at her, even when he was talking to her, and he never initiated the conversation. She was growing tired of seeking him out and trying to exchange pleasantries, hoping that they might turn into something more meaningful, which they never did.
Even worse than their stilted conversations was the fact that Rast seemed to go out of his way not to touch her. If their hands touched by accident or their bodies brushed against each other in the ship’s single, narrow corridor, he jumped away as though he’d been stung. It was painfully obvious he wanted nothing to do with her—not even in a friendly way.
Back on the Mother Ship, Nadiah had wondered if Rast was acting as her champion because he felt something for her…or simply because of his own sad past experiences. Now she was sure she had her answer. It was time to face the facts—Rast didn’t actually like her very much. He was acting as her champion out of pity and his own past pain. And how could he possibly win the challenge if he didn’t really care? If he had no love or passion for her with which to break the bond?
She had been mulling over this depressing thought, and filling a mug full of steaming water for hot chocolate, when the pain hit. It stabbed her so suddenly that she couldn’t even scream. Instead, she gave a high, breathless gasp and fell to the floor, spilling the scalding water all over her
tharp.
The knife twisted and Nadiah doubled in agony, the pain sinking its claws into her like an angry beast. Such torture left little room to think of anything else but one corner of her mind was still clear enough to fear for her delicate, one of a kind
tharp.
It was still young and tender—easily hurt. She could feel it writhing against her skin, in as much pain as she was, from the scalding water she’d spilled on it. But until the spasm from the blood bond passed, she could do nothing to ease it.
Then, though she would have sworn she’d fallen almost soundlessly, Rast was
there. He’d been up in cockpit in the pilot’s chair studying star charts earlier and several doors and rooms were between that area of the ship and the food prep area. Still, there he was, holding her and looking anxiously into her eyes.
“Is he doing it again? The pain’s back?” he demanded.
Nadiah nodded, unable to speak as another bolt of pain shot through her.
“That bastard!” Rast looked angry enough to kill and Nadiah had a brief, hazy thought that she was glad that look wasn’t directed at her. Then he asked, “What can I do?”
“Th-tharp,”
she gasped, plucking at the wounded garment which still writhed against her skin.
Rast looked down at it. The
tharp
was changing colors rapidly, unable to hold any particular shade or form due to its pain. “What the hell is wrong with it?”
“Take…off,” Nadiah managed to gasp. “Spilled…hot on it. Put…cold water.”
He looked doubtful. “How will stripping you naked and dunking your dress in cold water help?”
Nadiah was out of breath for talking and out of patience for explaining. Reaching up, she grabbed a handful of Rast’s shirt and yanked him down. “Just…do it,” she panted. “Hurry!”
His eyes widened but he didn’t ask any more questions. Quickly, he jerked the wounded
tharp
over her head and stood to push it under the cold tap at the sink unit. Nadiah lay naked and shivering on the floor as he doused it thoroughly.
“There.” Rast knelt beside her, his eyes filled with worry. “It’s soaking in cold water in the sink. Better?”
She nodded. “Thank you.”
“Welcome.” He didn’t seem to know where to look and she realized she was still naked. She was about to ask for some clothes when another spasm of pain hit.
“Ahh!” It was a moan of pure anguish and Nadiah couldn’t stop the hot tears that came to her eyes. They spilled over her cheeks, adding humiliation to her agony. She didn’t want Rast to see her crying. Didn’t want him to pity her or see how weak she was…
“Son of a bitch!” Rast growled, scooping her up. “Come on, I’m taking you to the bed.”
Stripped of her dignity as well as her
tharp,
Nadiah could do nothing but cling to him as he settled on the bed in one of the two tiny sleep chambers at the back of the ship.
“I’ll get you something to wear.” Rast started to put her down but then another spasm hit and another. Nadiah’s fingers clenched in the material of his shirt and she couldn’t make herself let go.
“Sorry,” she gasped, looking up at him. “Know you don’t like…don’t want…”
“Don’t want what?” He frowned down at her, stroking her damp hair away from her forehead.
“Don’t want to touch me,” Nadiah whispered, looking away as the pain lessened somewhat. “I’m sorry. I’ll get up.”
“No.” He pulled her closer. “No, stay right where you are.” He rubbed her back gently, his large hand soothing and warm. “Does this help?” he murmured.
Strangely enough, it
did
help. The warmth of his big body surrounding hers and his dark, masculine scent seemed to ease the tremors of pain that still echoed through her body.
“Yes.” Nadiah nodded, her cheek pressed to his chest. The low, steady rhythm of his heart was comforting. “I…I don’t know why but it does.”
“Then just relax.” Rast stroked her hair. “We’ll wait it out together. Here.” He pulled the blanket at the foot of the small bed over her, covering her nakedness and making her feel more at ease. Not that the hideous knifing pain had left much room for modesty but still, she had never exposed her body to a male before and she was shy.
They stayed like that for a long time, long after the sharp, burning spasms of pain had past and Nadiah found herself feeling strangely comfortable in his arms. She should have felt self-conscious about being naked in the arms of a male but somehow she didn’t. Rast rocked her gently and stroked her hair, as though she was a fretful child wakened by a nightmare. After awhile, she became aware that he was humming in a low, tuneful voice under his breath.
“What’s that you’re humming?” she murmured, feeling too warm and sleepy to speak up. “It’s beautiful.”
“Just a song from Earth.”
“What is it about? Does it have words?”
Rast shifted a little. “It’s, uh, about love. A man telling a woman how much he loves her and how he’ll do anything to prove it.” He sighed. “And yeah, it has words.”
“Sing them to me,” Nadiah begged. “Please,” she added, when he seemed to be hesitating. “I think it might help me feel better.”
“Yeah, right,” Rast muttered but then he began to sing anyway, in a warm baritone that seemed to echo through Nadiah’s entire body.
“When the rain is blowing in your face,
And the whole world is on your case,
I could offer you a warm embrace
To make you feel my love…
When the evening shadows and the stars appear
And there is no one to dry your tears,
I could hold you for a million years,
To make you feel my love…”
There were several more verses along the same lines and Rast sang them softly, still rocking her. Nadiah found herself charmed and strangely touched by the soft refrain. It was almost as though the words had been written just for her, as though Rast really meant what he was singing.
Don’t be stupid,
she told herself sternly.
He doesn’t really feel that way about you—it’s just a song, a silly Earth song that doesn’t mean anything.
But if it didn’t mean anything, then why did her heart feel like it was going to burst? Why did she wish that she would never have to leave the comforting circle of his arms? Why did…
“Hey…” Rast’s soft voice got her attention and she looked up.
“Yes?”
“Is he hurting you again?” He cupped her cheek and swiped a thumb under her eye. “You’re crying.”
“No.” Nadiah shook her head and rubbed at her eyes briskly. “The pain has stopped for now. It was just…just that your song touched me.”
“Oh.” Rast didn’t seem to know what to say. “Uh, well…”
“I’m better now. I’ll get up.” Determined to regain her dignity, Nadiah pushed out of his lap and wobbled to her feet. She tried to take the blanket with her but it slithered out of her hands and fell in a heap at her feet. “Oops!” She reached for it, her cheeks
hot with embarrassment, but Rast was too quick for her.
“Here.” He grabbed the blue blanket and whisked it around her shoulders. “I’ll get you something else to wear. Where are your clothes?”
“I don’t have any.” Nadiah shook her head. “I only brought one
tharp
with me.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Seriously? You only brought one outfit? Tranq Prime women must be more different from Earth females than I thought.”
“My
tharp
is one of a kind. It configures itself to any form or color I want,” Nadiah explained. “It can even imitate the clothing others are wearing. I used it as my bridesmaid’s dress during Sophia and Sylvan’s joining ceremony.”
He frowned. “Wow—that’s some talented dress. Well…I guess I can try to dry it out.”
“No, don’t.” Nadiah put out a hand to stop him and nearly lost the blanket again. “It’s been injured. It needs time to heal.”
“Well you can’t go walking around the ship wearing next to nothing.” He eyed the slippery blue blanket clutched around her shoulders balefully.
Nadiah stiffened. “I’m sorry if you find the sight of me naked distasteful. I’ll be sure to stay in my room where you won’t have to look at me until my
tharp
is healed.”
“No, damn it—that’s not what I meant!” He shook his head. “It’s not that I don’t want to see you naked. It’s that I—” He stopped abruptly, his face going red. “Never mind. You can borrow some of my clothes.”
He stalked abruptly from the room, leaving Nadiah to stare after him and wonder what had happened. How could he be so sweet and gentle one minute and so gruff the next? And what had he been about to say when he stopped himself and went for the clothes?
* * * * *
Rast cursed to himself under his breath as he rummaged in the small duffle of extra clothes he’d picked up while on Earth. So Nadiah thought he didn’t want to see her or touch her? How in the hell had she gotten such a crazy idea in her head when the exact opposite was true? When all he could think about was her soft, ripe breasts moving under the thin
tharp,
when even the slightest brush of her hand against his sent his body into overload? He felt like a horny teenager, walking around with a hard-on most of the time. To put it bluntly, she was driving him
crazy
.
Only her obvious suffering had kept his body from reacting when he’d held her earlier.
His anxiety for her pain and his anger at the evil fiancée who was doing this to her had completely overridden any sexual urges he might have had at the time. But now that she was better, he could feel himself reacting again. Now that he’d held her warm and naked in his arms, he wanted her more than ever.
And it wasn’t just the physical desire that was tormenting him—there was a dark, possessiveness that seemed to be growing like a weed inside him. He’d told Sylvan that he didn’t know how he felt about Nadiah but that was no longer true. Now, when he looked at her, there was no doubt what he felt.
Mine,
whispered a voice in the back of his head whenever he saw her.
She’s mine and no one else had better touch her or I’ll fucking kill them!
It was crazy and Rast knew it. Nadiah didn’t belong to him—he had no claim on her at all. But no amount of reasoning with himself seemed to help. He wanted her, wanted to protect her, possess her, provide for her.
I want to be the one she comes to if she’s hurt, the one she shares her joy with when she’s happy. The one she tells her troubles to. The one she curls up with at night.