“Well, it’s just that mud flats are a very unusual geographical feature.”
“Not really.” Thrace frowned. “They’re what happen when the desert meets the sea. Most of my home planet, Xander Prime, is either huge oceans or barren deserts. Not the most hospitable place but it’s ours and we weren’t going to give it up to those Lud’om bastards.”
“I see. Of course not.” B’Rugh’s second in command nodded thoughtfully. “Well, thank you very much. That was all I wished to know.”
Thrace stared at him. “Seriously? You stopped me to ask about the mud flats of my home world?”
“That’s all. I simply have an interest in different climates and geographical features. Call it a…hobby of mine.” He grinned, exposing his horrible teeth again. “Well, I must be going and I can see you are in a hurry as well.”
“Damn right,” Thrace snapped. But before they could start moving again. the male with steel teeth leaned forward and put one cold finger under Trin’s chin.
“Goodbye for now, my dear,” he murmured, his one normal eye gleaming. “But not forever because I will see you again. I can promise you that.”
He’s crazy! Trin thought, another cold shiver going down her spine. Completely insane.
“Get your fucking hands off her.” Thrace jerked her away and shoved the muzzle of the blaster in the other male’s skinny sternum. “Touch her again and you die.”
The male with metal teeth didn’t seem in the least concerned. He simply smiled.
“So protective despite the fact that she doesn’t allow you to penetrate her. That’s interesting. Very interesting,” he murmured, finally stepping aside. “Goodbye then. For now.” Slowly, he backed away, still grinning.
At that point, Trin’s head began to spin and the world around her started to gray out. She saw the interested looks of the thugs in the hallway around them—clearly the pause for conversation with B’Rugh’s second in command had given them time to gather their courage. Trin knew she needed to stay on her feet, but she couldn’t even feel her feet anymore. She sagged in Thrace’s grip, unable to stand, let alone walk.
“Trin?” He glanced at her quickly, while keeping most of his attention on the circle of interested thugs.
“Sorry,” she whispered. “Just…can’t…”
With a low curse, he bent down and swung her into his arms as easily as if he was picking up a doll. “Hold on to me,” he muttered. “Or try, at least—we’re going to have to fight our way out.”
The last memory Trin had was of resting her head against his muscular, bare chest as a hoard of hungry eyes closed in on them.
Then…nothing.
Chapter Nine
“Stav? Stavros?” Charlie snapped her fingers in front of her lover’s face worriedly.
Stavros was sitting on the side of the bed, wearing nothing but his black satin sleep pants and a blank expression. His hands lay open on his thighs, palms up. Other than the rise and fall of his broad chest and some slight twitching of his fingertips, he was completely still.
Completely gone.
Charlie stared at him with growing concern. This wasn’t the first time he’d drifted off into a weird, blank-eyed trance—the brief fugues had been happening for weeks now, ever since they’d returned to the Mother Ship from destroying the Collective on the Dark Kindred home world. It was almost like a petite-mal seizure, the way he just blanked out suddenly and for no apparent reason but the Kindred didn’t get epilepsy.
The trances scared Charlie, mostly because Stav had been a Sin Eater most of his life—what the Blood Kindred called a Cursed One. He’d had a parasite which grew on his back and forced him to feel the physical pain of others. It took the form of intricate, curving black lines which looked like an elaborate tattoo.
Killing the Collective—the group of thinking computers that ruled the Dark Kindred world—had also killed the parasite, leaving Stav free of its influence for the first time in over twenty years. Then the Goddess had healed his heart and declared he would have a normal life span instead of the scant six months he had originally been given. It seemed they were destined to live happily ever after aboard the Mother Ship with the rest of the Kindred and their wives.
And then the trances started.
Stavros kept saying it was nothing to worry about and it really wasn’t very dramatic. He would just blank out occasionally, freezing in place wherever he was and staring into space for a few seconds. It happened infrequently—maybe once or twice a week—and never lasted very long. Still, Charlie was worried. In light of his medical history, she didn’t like anything out of the ordinary.
And this was definitely out of the ordinary.
It was also by far the longest trance or fugue or whatever you wanted to call it he’d had. She’d been calling his name and trying to bring him back for the past five minutes and Stavros hadn’t so much as blinked. It was like he had gone far away—somewhere she couldn’t reach him.
“Okay, enough is enough,” Charlie muttered to herself at last. “I’m calling Dr. Sylvan.”
Stav had talked her out of involving the Kindred doctor several times in the past but this time she was getting some answers. There was a think-me in the nightstand on her side of the bed. She would bespeak her new friend, Sophia, to ask if her husband was around, Charlie decided. Sylvan was a nice guy—he wouldn’t mind her calling late.
But just as she was rummaging in the nightstand for the thin silver wire think-me which enabled telepathic communication, Stavros blinked and took a deep breath.
“Charlotte?” He looked like a man coming out of a dream…or maybe a nightmare. His indigo eyes were dark and troubled and he ran one hand through his gorgeous mane of deep auburn hair distractedly.
“Stav, honey…” Charlie had been digging in a drawer for a think-me but she went to him at once, relieved to have him back.
“Charlotte,” he murmured again and put his arms around her. Though he was sitting and she was standing, he was tall, as all Kindred were. So when he pulled her close, his head pressed against her chest, his gorgeous hair spilling over the deep red nightgown she was wearing.
“What is it?” Charlie was bewildered and concerned at how tightly he was holding her. It was as though he was a drowning man and she was the only one who could save him. “What is it, honey?” she asked again.
Stavros turned his head and pressed his face to her breasts but not in a sexual way—it was more like he was seeking comfort. The gesture tore at Charlie’s heart because she knew he had never been able to seek comfort from anyone before. His own mother had rejected him when the Mark that proved he was a Cursed One started to grow on his back when he was only six.
“Sweetheart…” she murmured, carding her fingers through his long hair. “Stav, what is it?”
He looked up at her at last.
“I’ve seen him,” he muttered in a hoarse voice.
“Seen who?” Charlie stared at him, not understanding.
“Two.” He sighed heavily. “I’ve been catching glimpses of him with every trance—if that’s what you call it. But this was the longest one yet.”
“What?” Charlie frowned at him. “You told me you didn’t remember anything about those trances—that you just spaced out for a second or two and it was nothing.”
“I lied.” Stavros looked away. “I’m not proud of that. I just…didn’t want to worry you.”
“Like I wasn’t worried thinking you were having some kind of mental fugue states for no apparent reason?”
“There’s no apparent reason for this either,” Stav pointed out. “I just keep seeing him all the time. I don’t understand it.”
“I might,” Charlie said thoughtfully. “Remember how he—well, how Ur—reached for you and touched you while you were filled with all that emotional energy from the Heart of Love?”
“How could I forget it?” Stavros said dryly. “Ur’s evil combined with the positive energy is what caused the overload that killed the Collective.”