The Siren's Call (Fantasy, Science Fiction, Romance) (FORCED TO SERVE) (5 page)

“Consider it done then. Now can we please talk of other things? I can’t believe we’re having this preposterous conversation about Malachi’s bonding needs. We never talk about ours this much,” Synar stated.

Ania’s mouth twitched at his complaining, and then she just gave up. She laughed loudly and long.

“It’s not that funny,” Synar denied, his own mouth twitching at her laughter.

Ania couldn’t stop laughing to speak, so she just nodded her head and widened her eyes. Then the most amazing thing happened while she watched. Liam smiled, snorted, and laughed as well. Once started, his smile widened and his laughter filled the room alongside hers.

“You are so incredibly attractive when you smile and laugh,” Ania said when she could speak at last. “You need to do it more often. I would suggest bonding now because I want you, but I know we both have dozens of things to do in the next thirty hours. We’ll be lucky to get any sleep.”

Synar sobered, but not entirely. “Wait until after I’ve counseled Malachi about his bonding habits. The ridiculousness of that ought to be good for another week’s worth of amusement. I expect that even the demon will find it entertaining. If I survive the humiliation, I’ll share the details with you then—anything to set a romantic mood.”

“I will look forward to the time,” Ania said, standing and bowing her head to her mate. “Thank you, Liam.”

Synar stood and bowed his head in return. “Do you honestly think he can change into a good creature after a thousand years of being evil?”

Ania shrugged. “I think any being
can
change. The interesting part is finding out what it takes to make them want to. Sometimes they learn that good is more rewarding and leads to a better life. Sometimes suffering is the only answer. I suffered, but I am grateful for what it forced me to do.”

“If what you have shared with me is true about your past, you have become the most compassionate creature I have ever met, even more so than Dorian,” Synar stated, lifting his chin when her mouth opened. He was not letting her argue this time. “No. You cannot debate my opinion of your character, so don’t try.”

Ania sighed and bowed her head again. When she raised it, it was to meet the respectful gaze of the male she enjoyed more with every passing day, even those days he made her head ache with the urge to harm him.

Synar walked to the door with her and held it open as she walked out. “How about that? I managed to get the last word in one of our debates for once. Maybe I’ll manage to do so with Malachi as well. My task might not be so bad after all.”

Chapter 3

Chiang fit the slave collar around her neck with hands that threatened to tremble at taking such an unnatural action. To him, there was no need for any female who had survived what she had to be the test subject for such a vile device. The healer under his hands had endured enough. Chiang struggled to understand why Boca had insisted when others could have volunteered for testing the Xendrin collar he was building for Gwen.

For one, they could have tested it on Ambassador Onin. That female would have enjoyed the pain, and it might have met some need in her that few males were willing to indulge. Chiang frowned thinking about the many bonding propositions he’d personally turned down from the wicked ambassador. It had been no hardship on him declining her offers. Perhaps he was traditional, but he simply did not derive bonding pleasure from inflicting pain on his female partners.

“How does it feel?” he asked, stepping back to visually inspect the fit around her throat, before coming back to slide fingers between the collar and her throat to check tightness.

Though average in height, he still had to bend his body to see it well. Boca was diminutive, smaller than all the other females now on the Liberator, and in his opinion, way too emotionally fragile to be testing a pain collar. Chiang still didn’t understand why Captain Synar had ordered him to use Boca despite his protests of her total unsuitability.

Seeing Chiang’s concerns for her reflected in his gaze, Boca lifted damp hands to the collar around her neck to test its tightness around her throat for herself. She was nervous about wearing any kind of restraining device but determined to rid herself of fear of all such things. In fact, she was determined to never fear anything or anyone again. It was both a personal and professional goal.

Malachi had counseled her to face her fears by placing her fate in the hands of others not likely to harm her, but who had the power to do so. He had said it would make her more confident of her escape from those who meant her harm if she “practiced” escaping. But why had she stepped up to volunteer for testing the collar Commander Jet would wear as part of her disguise? Did that mean she trusted the virile male studying her with a concerned expression scrunching up his face every time her gaze met his?

It was a truth she didn’t understand that the Greggor and the demon were the only males she trusted onboard the Liberator. Even Lieutenant Zade scared her, especially with his ability to see right through her shields.

Her trust of Malachi was counter-intuitive, but the demon never tried to intimidate her with his power, just the opposite in fact. And Chiang—well, that was complicated, but she did not fear him in a bad way.

“It feels okay. More comfortable than one would think. Are they really like this?” she asked, because knowing and understanding the power of what was hurting you was the first step to finding a way to overcome it.

Chiang nodded. “Mostly the collars are tolerable to those wearing them. I would forget I wore it at times, but then my strength allowed me to ignore its weight.”

“It is heavy, but not unbearable. Perhaps the wearer adjusts to the weight,” Boca said, fingers straining at the collar again. She chastised herself for the panic that threatened to sweep through her as she tugged without a response.

Chiang nodded again, wanting badly to tell the brave female in front of him how much he hated seeing the slave collar on her. Yet in her gaze was a determination to deal with it that he did not understand, but reluctantly respected. So he said nothing.

“I’ve dialed back the sensations. You should feel them, but they should not be so painful as to stop you from functioning. We want it to look real and act real without impairing Commander Jet’s ability to fight,” he directed.

Boca nodded and firmed her jaw. “I understand the purpose. I will strive to provide feedback that will aid Commander Jet. You may proceed with activating the device.”

Resigned, Chiang picked up the remote and turned the collar on, watching Boca’s hands come to the collar again in surprise.

“The humming is normal. It scrambles the wearer’s energy signature and makes those sold into slavery very hard to find,” he explained.

“Why don’t the slave traders just remove the ID chips from their captives?” Boca asked, forcing herself to drop her hands.

“Can’t bypass the self-destruct mechanism which turns the person into a giant homing beacon. Scrambling the ID signal constantly is expensive, but probably more effective in keeping valuable slaves in custody,” Chiang said.

“My people know how to remove the ID chips without them self-destructing. It is not common knowledge, but I have seen it done many times,” Boca said.

“How do you know for sure it worked?” Chiang asked.

“The removed chip is placed in a stasis container which continues to broadcast the location while the person can move around freely undetected and untraceable by anyone, including the Peace Alliance,” Boca explained. “I know someone who worked covertly for them and his chip was removed.”

“Where is he now? Or does anyone know?” Chiang asked, grinning at his joke.

Boca nodded, or at least she tried. The collar did not allow for much head movement. “Yes. Rogan has gone to be with the Creators. He was poisoned while on a mission and did not make it back to us in time to remove the poison. He died a few days after his return.”

“Poison—not an easy death,” Chiang commented, sorry now he’d tried to take her mind off the collar testing with a joke.

“No, you are correct. It was a painful death. As a healer, I tried all I knew to save him. Nothing worked. The Creators took him anyway,” she said, looking away.

“Did you know him personally?” Chiang asked absently, then placed the remote on the bench. “I have the controls set on a timer which will randomly send the charge to the collar. Be alert that it is coming, but we need to catch you off-guard. Gwen will have no way of knowing when they’ll be hitting her with it. Anyone with a controller set to her frequency will be able to set off her collar at a close enough range.”

“Understood,” Boca said, trying to nod again, ultimately sighing at her inability to remember that she couldn’t move her head.

Talking with Chiang, she kept forgetting what they were doing and how important it was. She kept forgetting her physical discomfort. She kept forgetting everything but how relaxing his voice was and how it soothed her.

“Sorry. Where were we in our conversation—oh yes, the person who was poisoned. So you knew him?” he asked more reverently this time, leaning against the tall bench he was using as a build table, supporting himself on one of his hands.

“Yes, I knew him well. We were mated for sixty-two earth years,” Boca said softly.

Chiang’s hand slipped at the sad look on her face, sending tools scattering across the floor. “Shades of Kellnor, I’m sorry I asked so…I didn’t mean to pry into your past.”

He bent to retrieve the tools, placing them randomly back on the bench.

Boca smiled softly at his embarrassment. “Your questions do not upset me, Chiang of Greggor. I sense your compassion. As sad as my Sumerian’s mate’s end was, I prefer thinking and talking about Rogan to remembering the unscrupulous male I spent the last four years of my life with who forced me to serve as his mate.”

“I’m sorry to bring up both situations,” Chiang said sincerely, preferring her not to think about any other males at all in any discussion with him. He would have preferred Boca Ador to focus her attention on the future, preferably one including time spent with him before he went crazy with longing for her.

“I find you easy to confide in and talk to about my life. You pass neither judgment nor leap to fix my flaws, though I know you sense my struggle. It is a very appealing quality in a male to be so patient,” Boca said. “I have not been around many patient males.”

“You are not flawed,” Chiang said, grinning at her. “You are as brave as you are compassionate. That is an appealing combination in a female.”

“Some would say Commander Jet possesses similar qualities,” Boca said.

Chiang nodded as he thought about it. “Yes. I suppose she does. Though in Gwen’s case, all admirable qualities are buried beneath layers of angry female and subject to the mercy of her irreverent tongue. Good can get lost on its way out her mouth. Do you ever get angry, Boca?”

“Sometimes,” Boca said truthfully, “but I have a tendency to destroy things when I do. Knowing this, I fight my violent tendencies and am mostly successful in controlling the darkness within me. I imagine I have much left from my…Lotharian captivity.”

She was not going to continue calling that male her mate regardless of what her body said about it. Somehow he would be forgotten, ignored, or whatever it took to banish him from her energy completely.

“I can’t imagine what you’re like when you’re angry,” Chiang said truthfully in return, thinking instead that if she were that passionate, such intense energy could be put to much better use than venting her temper.

Boca shook her head. “I see your musings within your gaze. My anger has nothing to do with how passionate I am, so you might as well give up that line of thinking. This is true for most females. A female can bond with a male and still be angry when they are done. Many males have been killed in their sleep for not being aware of this fact. I would have killed my false Lotharian mate if I had not feared my own death would instantly result.”

“I know both Gwen and Ania think you capable of such an act,” Chiang said, watching her shrug and shift her gaze to the floor. He raised his eyebrows as he remembered her other comments. “How did you know what I was thinking? Are you reading my mind?”

“Some would say it is a Sumerian trick, and perhaps it is something like that—” Boca began, then screamed as the pain shot through her, taking her to her knees.

Chiang was on his knees in front of her, hands grabbing and breaking the collar, ripping it off her before he could stop his reaction. Then seeing the broken collar in his hands, he realized his only thought had been to free Boca and stop her pain. Using the controller hadn’t even crossed his mind.

“Are you okay?” he asked tightly.

Boca nodded. Then she dove into Chiang’s arms, which came around her automatically clutching her now shaking body. He heard her choke back a sob.

“It’s okay. Shhhh…it’s okay. You’re safe. No one is going to hurt you anymore. I swear it,” he said, wrapping her even more tightly, the broken collar dangling from his fingers. Both his hearts beat hard, vibrating through every nerve cell as they touched. Closing his eyes, he savored the moment, trying to memorize the feel of her in his arms.

Suddenly aware of the strong, solid male pressing along her body, Boca pulled away. He felt good—
really
good. It had been a long time since a male had felt good to her.