Shadowed: Brides of the Kindred book 8 (20 page)

“Reddix,” she breathed, not taking her eyes from the thing. “It’s…
feeling
at me. I can hear it inside my head.”

“I know.” The strained, harsh sound of her voice forced Nina to tear her eyes from the alien being and look at the big Kindred. What she saw made her instantly worried.

There was a tight look on Reddix’s face—a look of sheer agony, as though he was keeping himself from bellowing in pain only by sheer force of will. The lights on the Hurkon collar were going crazy as though it was soaking up his pain even though it hadn’t caused it.

All of a sudden, Nina understood.
His RTS, oh my God! If I can feel this thing’s emotions, how much worse can
he
feel them? And what is feeling them doing to him?

From the grim, pained look on his face the answer was clear. As she watched, a slow trickle of dark red blood came from his nose. This thing, whatever it was, was poison for him. It was hurting him—overloading him.

“Nina,” he said in a low, hoarse voice. “Get back in the ship.
Now.”

“No—I won’t leave you. Not like this.” He looked terrible—worse every second. Without thinking she did what she always did to comfort someone—she reached out to touch him.

As her hand closed over his bare forearm, Nina felt a shiver go through him. Then he looked at her, his face filled with wonder.

“What did you do?” he asked hoarsely. “How did you do it? How did you turn it off?”

“Turn what off?” Nina asked, honestly confused.

“The feelings—the thing’s emotions. When you touch me—”

“When I—Oh!” Suddenly, she realized what she was doing—touching him skin-to-skin with nothing between them. Panicked, she pulled her hand away.

Reddix staggered and nearly went to his knees.

“No! Oh, Goddess, it’s
back.”

Nina looked around wildly to see why his condition was worse and understood. The tall alien creature was coming toward them and when she concentrated on it, she could feel even more intense curiosity and interest coming from it.

Toy? Doll?
it sent as waves of inquisitiveness washed over them.

“No, no.” Nina shook her head and waved her arms at it. “Go away! Go
away.”

But the thing was already reaching for her with one huge, loopy tentacle. Nina gasped as it curled around her waist and pulled her high into the air. She was suddenly right up close to it—hovering in front of its face and staring into the three bright purple and green eyes, each one as big as a dinner plate.

Mothers One and Three promised a new toy. Dolls to play with. Must be careful though. Spaker will want to chew them.
Here a thought vision of the furry purple triceratops flashed across Nina’s mind—clearly it was a pet.
Can’t let him hurt the new dolls. He can chew the boji-ball instead,
the alien thoughts continued.

The thoughts came much more clearly now that she was touching the thing. Though, confusingly, they seemed to come to her in a rush of bright, crudely drawn pictures. It was like flipping through a child’s book of paintings and trying to understand the story they were telling. They also had a distinctly feminine feel to them—though why she thought so, Nina couldn’t say. She just knew it was true.

A little girl,
she thought with a shock of recognition.
Why, she’s just a little girl—no matter how big she is.

“No, no,” she told the huge little girl. “I’m not a doll. I’m an adult—put me
down
.” She tried to send feelings of sternness toward the alien child, but just as she felt it beginning to respond with emotions of contrite regret, she heard Reddix shouting.

“Keep calm,” he yelled up at Nina. “The minute it moves you away from its face I’m shooting.”

To her horror, Nina saw that he was still holding the blaster aimed at the alien’s head. Clearly he was just waiting for a clear shot.

“What? No—no!” She shook her head at him frantically. “No, Reddix—can’t you feel it? Can’t you understand? She’s just a little girl! A little girl out playing ball with her…her dog-thing.” She gestured down at Spaker, who was still looking at Reddix with a cocked head, the gray beach ball clutched firmly in his mouth.

“Doesn’t matter what it is, I’m not letting it hurt you.” The big Kindred looked, if anything, even worse than before. With a shock, Nina realized he was almost out of his mind with pain. The blood was pouring freely from his nose now, and she had the distinct impression he was keeping himself from passing out by sheer force of will. The blue, green and red lights on his collar were blinking so fast they were nothing but a blur. Again she had the distinct impression that the alien child’s emotions—loud, primitive, and extremely bright—were overloading him.

Have to do something,
she thought wildly.
Or he’s going to have an aneurism—blow a blood vessel. He can’t go on like this—it’s killing him!

Then everything seemed to happen at once. The huge little girl started to stoop to put her down, and Spaker dropped the ball and made a low, hoarse
rak-rak-rak
sound that Nina supposed must be his version of barking. She saw Reddix’s finger tighten on the blaster’s trigger, and a fresh gout of blood poured from his nose.

Without letting herself think, Nina reached past the loop of furry tentacle around her waist and dived into her pocket. Finding the Hurkon collar’s control unit, she felt for the last button and slipped the little plastic shield to one side. Just before Reddix could shoot, she pressed the kill switch.

He gave a low groan, and his silver eyes rolled up in his head. Then he crumpled to the ground—out cold.

Chapter Sixteen

Reddix opened his eyes to see Nina’s lovely face hovering anxiously over his own.

“Reddix?” she asked softly, her blue eyes filled with worry. “Are you all right? Do you feel okay?”

“Except for the fact that my head feels like I drank an entire bottle of fireflower juice before passing out.” He put a hand to his temple gingerly and winced at the throbbing pain. “Gods, what happened?”

“I pushed the kill switch.” Nina looked ashamed but defiant. “I know you said not to, but you were in such bad shape. Lona’s emotions were overwhelming you and—”

“Wait a minute.” He held up a hand. “Who’s Lona?”

“Oh—that’s the little girl who found us. She and her pet, Spaker, were playing ball and she threw it too far—that’s what hit our ship—her boji ball. And so—”

“You mean to tell me that thing that attacked us was a
child?”
he interrupted her again.

“Couldn’t you tell?” Nina asked. “It was really obvious to me. She was just curious about us—she thought we were some new kind of dolls. Two of her mothers had promised her some new toys, and she thought we were it.”

“Two
of her mothers?” Reddix shook his head. “What kind of society is this?”

“A really
nice
one, actually,” Nina said reassuringly. “They took us in after I, uh, knocked you out, and their healer has been looking after you ever since.”

“They took us in?” Reddix stared around the dim room he found himself in, realizing for the first time that he was no longer on the ship. “What the hell?” he growled at Nina. “Why did you let them take us from the only safe place on this entire ball of dirt?”

A frown creased her forehead. “Because I was worried I’d
killed
you, all right? Do you know how long you’ve been out?
Three
days.
You told me the kill switch would only put you under for an hour, and so I waited an hour, but you wouldn’t wake up. Reddix, I’ve been sitting here with you day and night worried to death that you were never going to open your eyes again. I…I…”

Her own eyes were suddenly bright with tears, and she turned away.

“Hey…” Her emotions still bewildered him, mostly because he couldn’t feel them.
That’s right,
he realized.
I can’t feel them—the numbness is back.
But was it really numbness? Reddix frowned, remembering the brief respite he’d had from the alien’s emotions when Nina had grabbed his arm. Could it be…but no, that was impossible—wasn’t it?

“I thought I killed you,” she said again, her voice muffled.

“I’m okay, sweetheart. Really I am,” he said, trying to be reassuring. Actually, aside from his pounding head, he didn’t feel too bad. He sat up in bed—or the low sleeping platform that passed for a bed, anyway—and looked around.

The room he found himself in seemed to belong to a primitive, pre-technical society. Most of the implements he saw were made of natural materials. A mat woven of the tall purple grass covered the packed dirt floor, and the furniture was made of some kind of silvery-gray wood. The blanket that covered him seemed to be made of coarse dark purple animal fur. The craftsmanship was excellent, but there was no sign of anything plastic or electronic. In fact, there was hardly even any metal in the room. The small space was lit by a fire, which flickered with gold and blue flames in a stone fireplace across from the bed.

Blue and gold, just like her eyes.
He looked at Nina again to see if she was still upset. He caught her in the act of hastily wiping her cheeks, and when she looked at him, her chin was lifted defiantly.

“Don’t die on me, okay?” she said, pointing a finger at him. “You’re not allowed to do that. You dragged me here, and you’re going to get me home…eventually.”

“Eventually,” Reddix agreed gravely. “So…” He tried to lighten the mood. “Tell me more about this place. What are the natives like besides ‘really nice’?”

“It’s actually fascinating and quite complex.” Nina turned to face him more fully, her lovely face animated, the firelight reflected in her eyes. “The adults are smaller than the children—they’re about our size. Well, my size, anyway.”

“That’s good to hear.” He looked around the room which did seem to be made to accommodate someone from Nina’s home planet. “If they got much bigger they’d be fucking monsters.”

“As far as I can tell they hatch from some kind of egg. They start out really big and shrink as they get older,” Nina said. “I think that’s one reason each child has multiple parents—it’s the only way they can handle them.”

“Makes sense.” Reddix nodded.

“They also communicate via emotions. It’s kind of like their feelings make a picture in your head that turns into words. Weird but effective.” Nina bit her lip. “I’m afraid that might be a problem for you although the adults—especially the elders—seem to have much quieter feelings than the kids.”

Reddix frowned. “That
is
a problem. Normal emotions are hard enough but when they’re fucking broadcasting them…” He shook his head. “I thought my head was going to explode.”

“I thought so too,” Nina said in a low voice. “That was the reason I pressed the kill switch. I’ve explained as much as I can to them that it’s a problem for you, and I’ve been keeping everyone but the healer away from your room.”

Reddix was touched. “Been standing watch over me while I was out, huh?” he said, raising an eyebrow at her.

Nina’s cheeks got pink. “Somebody had to. I wasn’t sure if your RTS was a problem while you were unconscious or not, but I didn’t want to take a chance.”

“Thank you.” He held her eyes with his own for a moment, wishing he dared to touch her. “You didn’t have to do that but thanks anyway.”

“Yes, I did,” she countered. “You’re my way out of here, remember? Even if you don’t want to take me home right away.”

“You don’t have to worry about that right now,” he reminded her gently. “You’ve got the controls to the collar, remember?”

“About that…” Nina looked uncomfortable. “About the collar…it was lighting up like crazy the entire time we were meeting Lona—blinking like a Christmas tree. Almost like it was…feeding on you.”

“That’s exactly what it was doing,” Reddix said grimly. “Didn’t I tell you it lives on extreme emotions? It probably thought I was a fucking banquet.”

“Well, I didn’t like it.” Nina frowned. “And afterward when you were out, I thought maybe it had something to do with why you weren’t waking up. So I tried to take it off.”

Reddix frowned and reached up his fingers to feel the cool metal collar still encircling his throat. “What do you mean you tried?”

“Exactly what I said—I
tried.”
Nina looked truly troubled now. “But, Reddix, it wouldn’t come off. No matter what I did,
it wouldn’t come off.”

* * * * *

He frowned at her, and Nina wondered if he really understood. She tried to explain that she’d tried everything—even cutting the collar off—but nothing had worked. It had resisted all attempts to be removed, and when she’d taken a pair of pliers to the damn thing, it had actually shocked her—delivering such a stinging, painful jolt she was forced to abandon the attempt.

“It’s really creepy,” she told Reddix. “I wish we’d never put it on you.”

“Well, it’s on now,” he said grimly. “And we can’t—”

Just then the light grass fiber door swung open, and the alien Nina had begun to know as “Healing One” came in. He was small—no bigger than a child, which conveyed his great age since these people shrank as they grew older—and covered in short grayish fur. His three eyes were a faded purple and seemed to have a kindly, patient expression in them whenever he looked at her.

“Greetings,”
he sent to Nina, using feelings of warm welcome and calmness to form the words in her brain.

Beside her on the low bed, Reddix winced, a look of pain crossing his chiseled features. “
Shit
,” she heard him mutter as he put a hand to his temple.

“Hello, Healing One,” she answered aloud, trying as much as she could to put herself between Reddix and the alien. She didn’t know if she could block the flow of emotions from the healer to the big Kindred, but she was determined to try. “My…friend is awake. But he is still in some pain.” She was doing her best to send emotion/thought signals to match her words, but she wasn’t sure how to explain Reddix’s RTS to the alien healer. It seemed to defy description—at least with the limited vocabulary she’d been able to amass in the past few days.