Shadowed: Brides of the Kindred book 8 (12 page)

Suddenly, Nina realized she was just standing there staring at his perfect face and that she had been for a long time.

Everyone said Ted Bundy was handsome and personable too, and
he
was a serial killer. Gorgeous or not, this Reddix guy is still a kidnapping bastard,
she reminded herself sternly.
One who might wake up at any minute and continue with his evil plan—whatever it is.

Right. So she needed to do something about that before he woke up.

Nina considered her options—should she run for it? But how did she know the planet outside the ship had a breathable atmosphere? Or what if it was too cold or too hot or all the local vegetation turned out to be horribly poisonous? Nina had watched enough of the old Star Trek episodes with Mehoo-Jimmy to be wary of stepping foot on an unexplored world. Also, the farther she got from the ship, the farther she got from any chance she had of ever going home. So trying to find a way off the ship and running was out of the question.

Option two was to just stay here and wait for Reddix to wake up. But he was so much bigger and stronger than her that Nina was sure she’d be right back where she started—cuffed and tied to a chair—the minute he opened his eyes. Unless…

Her eyes went to the spot above his head where a long silver bar ran. He had collapsed in what appeared to be the kitchen area of the ship. At least, there were a lot of cabinets, a sink, and a machine that looked something like a microwave mounted on the wall above his head. The bar, which ran the length of the countertop, appeared to be fixed very firmly in place. Maybe it was something to hang on to if you were cooking in the kitchen and the ship happened to hit a pocket of turbulence or go through a wormhole or crash land on an unknown purple planet…ha ha.

Whatever its actual use was, Nina could immediately see an alternative application. Running back to her chair, she grabbed the abandoned copper cuffs and brought them back to where the big Kindred was still slumped like a gorgeous Raggedy Andy doll.

Raggedy Andy is right,
she thought as she raised one of his hands above his head.
He really needs a shave and a haircut.
Still, maybe personal grooming was last on his to-do list at the moment. Apparently, kidnapping Nina and dragged her through a wormhole took precedence over getting that clean, close shave all the ladies loved.

Getting his arms up and cuffed to the rail above his head wasn’t easy. Reddix was big and muscular, which equaled pretty damn heavy, especially when he was knocked out, and the parts she was trying to lift were dead weight. Twice his eyelids fluttered, revealing glimpses of those disturbing pale silver eyes—and once he said something that sounded like her name. Nina nearly jumped away that time, but somehow she kept her nerve and kept working. It helped that she had pretty good upper body strength from years of doing massage.

She was careful, throughout the procedure, not to touch the strange little snake tattoo on his inner wrist. The thing was blood red, as it had been after he touched her with it, and Nina could swear it was larger somehow. But that wasn’t possible, was it? Tattoos didn’t grow. Whatever the case, she made damn sure she didn’t so much as brush it while she was fastening the cuffs around his wrists.

Finally, she had his hands secured above his head with the cuffs threaded through the silver bar. It didn’t look like a very comfortable position, but Nina reminded herself that being cuffed and harnessed to the chair up front hadn’t been exactly comfortable either. She pushed the red button on the locking-device with a clear conscious—well, almost—and watched with satisfaction as the cuffs snugged down around his wrists. Then she dropped the little locking device into the front pocket of her dark blue scrubs.

“There,” she said, standing back and putting her hands on her hips. “Just try and get out of that, you kidnapping son of a bitch.”

Reddix chose that moment to open his eyes.

“Nina,” he said thickly. “What in the Seven Hells is going on? Where are we?”

Chapter Eleven

“I have no idea where we are,” she said tartly. “All I know is that it’s the same big purple planet you crashed us into as soon as we got out of the wormhole. God…” She put a hand to her head. “That sounds so crazy when I say it out loud. This can’t be real—it must be just another nightmare I’m having about you, and I’m going to wake up any time. Right?”

“It’s real enough,” Reddix growled. He was still dizzy, but he was beginning to feel more alert now. His head was throbbing, and there was a burning pain above his right eyebrow. He started to put up a hand to touch it…and realized his hands were already up and he couldn’t get them back down. Looking up, he saw he was cuffed securely to the food prep area’s side bar with the same restraints he’d used on Nina.

“Yeah, that’s right,” she said, following his eyes. “Shoe’s on the other foot now. How do you like it, big guy?”

He had no idea why she was talking about shoes and feet when it was his hands she had cuffed above his head—it must be some kind of Earth idiom. Like all Kindred, he had a natural talent for languages, but though he’d picked up English easily enough in the short time he’d stayed aboard the Mother Ship, many of the strange Earth sayings still eluded him.

“Not fucking funny,” he growled, rattling the cuffs. “Let me go.”

“Why? So you can continue kidnapping me and doing…whatever else it was you had planned?” She shivered and shook her head. “I don’t think so, buddy. I’m in charge—from now on what I say goes.”

Reddix raised an eyebrow at her. “So that’s it—that’s your plan? You’re just going to keep me cuffed to the food prep counter?”

“For now.” She folded her arms over her chest, pulling the dark blue top she had on tight over her full breasts in a way Reddix found entirely too distracting.

“I don’t think you understand, sweetheart,” he said, forcing himself to look away from her chest and glare at her face instead. “We’re trapped here—marooned on what might be a very hostile planet. I need to get out of these restraints if I’m ever going to assess the damage to the ship and make repairs. Hell—you don’t even know how to trip the emergency beacon.”

“Like you would send a signal for help if I let you out,” she scoffed. “You were running away from my people
and
yours.”

She had him there. Reddix glared at her some more. “Fine—you want me cuffed up and contained, all nice and neat. I get it. But who’s going to fix the ship? And who’s going to fly it—you?”

She frowned. “No. But you aren’t either. Not until I’m sure you’re not flying me to some weird serial killer sex cave to assault and dismember me before going on your merry way.”

Reddix barked a laugh. “You still think I want to ‘assault’ you? You’ve got a one track mind, you know that, sweetheart?”

Her cheeks went red. “Well, what am I supposed to think? You never told me why you grabbed me. Why else does a man kidnap a woman and fly her through a freaking wormhole?”

“Not for sex, I can promise you that,” he growled.

“Oh, I get it.” She nodded, a knowing look on her face. “You’re gay, right?”

“What?” He combed his knowledge of the English language for the correct meaning. “Are you really asking me if I’m ecstatically happy when you have me cuffed to the food prep counter? What do you think?”

She smothered a laugh. “No—not happy gay. I mean, you like other men—that has to be it, right? I mean with a face and a body like yours—” She stopped abruptly, her cheeks going even redder. “I mean…”

“You think I must like other men because I look like I do?” He looked at her incredulously.

“Well…yes.” She cleared her throat. “That’s uh, not unusual back where I come from. The really pretty looking men…I mean, the handsome ones, usually turn out to be gay.”

Reddix frowned. “So you think I’m handsome?” Usually when a woman looked at him with interest, he could feel her lust like cool slime coating his skin. It hit him all over again that he couldn’t feel her emotions. Why was that? Was he still simply numb? And how long would the numbness last?
Forever, please Goddess.
It was so amazing simply to have a conversation with someone without feeling every emotion they had as they had it. Reddix knew it couldn’t last, but a male could wish, couldn’t he?

“You must know how you look,” Nina said tartly, interrupting his speculation. “I’m not going to feed your ego.”

“You couldn’t be more wrong—about both things,” Reddix growled. “I like women.” He looked her over slowly. “I especially like a woman with a heart-shaped ass.”

She frowned and took a step back. “I—”

“And I absolutely fucking
hate
the way I look,” Reddix continued bitterly. “If I could make myself ugly—or even better—invisible, I would do it in a heartbeat.”

“But…why?” She shook her head, clearly confused.

“Never mind why. It’s none of your fucking business,” he snarled, losing patience with both her and himself. Why had he even told her that? It was a private matter—no one but his little sister Minda knew how he felt about his looks. Why had he shared his feelings with the girl he was transporting as a sacrifice to the swamp witch to cure his RTS?
Don’t get involved with her,
he warned himself.
It’ll only make things harder.

Nina stiffened, clearly offended by his rough words. Reddix was sure she would turn and walk away—probably refuse to talk to him for a good long while. Which was good—he needed a break from her. A break from those big blue, gold-flecked eyes and her warm, sweet scent. A break from those full breasts and the curvy, heart-shaped ass he could see under the loose dark blue clothing she wore.

She
did
turn and walk away, to his mingled relief and disappointment. He turned his head and tried not to watch her receding posterior but then caught himself watching anyway from the corner of his eye. It was just too hard to keep his eyes off her lush ass. Damn it, she was
really
beginning to get under his skin.

There was silence for a moment, which made Reddix hope she’d decided to lie down in the sleep chamber and take a rest—it would give them more time apart. But then he heard water running in the fresher—she must have decided to take a bath or a shower.

“Hey,” he shouted. “Easy with the water, sweetheart. We don’t know if the reclamation unit’s been damaged or not. We won’t last a solar week out here if you use up all the available resources.”

The water shut off, and he was certain she was probably standing in the next room fuming silently. Probably, she wouldn’t talk to him for the rest of the night—or day—or whatever time it was here. But then, to his surprise, she came back after all. She was carrying a bowl of steaming water and a white washing cloth she must have found among the ship’s linens.

Reddix eyed her mistrustfully. “What are you planning to do with that?”

“You said you wanted to be ugly—well, you’re making a pretty good start,” Nina said tartly. She sat the steaming bowl down on the floor and crouched beside him. “That gash on your forehead is going to leave a nasty scar, and it’ll probably get infected if I don’t wash it out.” She wrung out the cloth and held it in one hand while she reached for his face with the other. “Now just hold still—”

“Don’t.”
Reddix felt a surge of panic. He might be numb to her emotions now, but he was sure he would be able to feel them the minute she touched his bare skin. He didn’t want that—didn’t want the comforting numbness to go away, only to be replaced by the horrible crawling sensation of her feelings worming their way over his body. The very idea made him nauseous.

“But—” Nina looked confused, but her hand still hovered in the air, right in front of his face.

“Don’t fucking touch me,”
he growled at her. “I mean it!”

Nina drew back. “Okay, okay, I get it—you think I want to hurt you because you hurt me. An eye for an eye, right? Well, that’s probably what you deserve, but I’m not that kind of person. I’m into healing—not hurting. I want to go back to school and become a PA—a physician’s assistant. So you don’t have to worry that I’ll try to harm you.”

“It’s not that.” Reddix’s voice sounded harsh, even in his own ears. “I remember what I saw in the dreams we shared—I know you’re a healer.”

“Then you know I won’t hurt you.” She dipped the cloth in the steaming water again and wrung it out. “So if you’ll just hold still—”

“No,” he snapped, evading her hand.

She frowned. “Look, I worked my way through massage therapy school as an aide in a nursing home. I’ve seen some nasty injuries, and I can
tell when a cut looks bad. I can
promise
you that’s going to get infected if I don’t clean it out. Is that what you want?”

“No,” Reddix admitted grudgingly. “But why don’t you just let me loose and let me clean it out myself? I’ll swear not to hurt you.”

“Fat chance, buddy.” Nina crossed her arms over her chest, apparently heedless of the dripping cloth. “You’re not going anywhere. So you have two options—let me clean the cut, or get a nasty infection and possibly die of it while we’re out here marooned on an alien planet. Your choice.”

Reddix considered her for a long moment. It was true that the area above his left eyebrow ached and stung, and he could feel the tackiness of dried blood across his forehead and down his cheek. The last thing he needed was to be undermined by an infection—especially now when he would probably need all his strength to fix the ship—if it was even fixable.

“Well?” Nina raised an eyebrow at him. “The water’s getting cold. Make up your mind.”

“Fine,” he said at last, grudgingly. “But only if you can clean it
without
touching my skin.” Seeing her uncomprehending look, he continued. “Just use the cloth—don’t put your hand on me, don’t touch your bare skin to mine in any way. Got it?”

Nina looked offended. “Are you some kind of germaphobe? You’re afraid I’ll contaminate you with my Earth germs or something?”

“No,” Reddix said shortly. “With your feelings. Can you clean it without touching me or not?”