Cursed: Brides of the Kindred 13 (6 page)

Clearly, though, she didn’t believe him.

“Concerned. Yeah, right.” She made an incredulous noise in the back of her throat.

“It’s true,” he insisted. “It’s obvious you are in some kind of pain or difficulty.”

She frowned. “No, it’s
not
obvious. Or it shouldn’t be.”

“Then what—”

“Fine,” she snapped. “I’m fine so drop it.”

It wasn’t true but he let it pass and simply studied her instead.

Now that she had changed out of the tight suit and jacket she had been wearing, she looked more approachable. The soft pink of her shirt emphasized her creamy complexion and the black, elastic trousers she had put on clung lovingly to the curves of her full hips and ass. She had let her hair down as well and it fell in silky waves around her heart shaped face. Despite the fact that she was pointing the weapon at him, Stav found her distractingly lovely.

There’s something about her…but what?

Whatever it was, it had caused his body to react. And not just his cock, which was still semi-hard from having her slim little hand down his leathers. It had also caused his fangs to sharpen—enough that he had cut his own lip without even knowing it.

Stavros ran the tip of his tongue delicately along the still-sharp edges. All Blood Kindred had a double set of fangs where humans had their canine teeth. Though he was one of the Cursed, his physiology didn’t differ much from the others of his kind which was why his current state disturbed him greatly.

A Blood Kindred’s fangs didn’t grow sharp enough to pierce flesh until he met the female he wished to claim as his mate. Stav’s had remained blunt and dull his entire life…up until the little female got close to him and put her hand down his leathers. Then they had suddenly become razor sharp and they showed no signs of dulling again.

This is ridiculous,
he lectured himself.
I cannot claim a bride. It would not be fair to form a permanent soul bond with a female—not when I know I will not live past my fortieth cycle.
And even if he
would
allow himself to form a bond, he certainly wouldn’t pick a female who had taken him prisoner, bound him to her sleeping platform, and was currently holding a projectile weapon on him—would he?

His body seemed to think otherwise. His fangs throbbed and they weren’t the only part of his anatomy that was interested in the human female. He shifted uncomfortably, wishing his underbriefs were made of a thicker material— like solid plastisteel—so his interest in her wouldn’t be so obvious.

Look away,
he told himself.
Stop thinking of her. Stop remembering how soft her little hand was as it brushed against your shaft.
But somehow he couldn’t.

Though he knew he shouldn’t, Stav studied her some more, taking in her delicate features and the full curves of her hips. Her hair was a silky wheat colored cloud around her face and her eyes were the deepest, truest brown he’d ever seen. Her lips were pink and looked kissably soft. Gods, she was
lovely
and she reminded him of someone. Someone he had seen once, though he couldn’t quite remember where
.
She was like…like something from a dream. Which was foolish since he never remembered his dreams.
But I’m sure I would have remembered if I dreamed of her!
Just looking at her made his fangs grow even sharper. And the warm scent that came from her… He sniffed, frowning.

The warm scent had a hint of blood.

Was she injured somewhere? Was she bleeding? Could a wound be what was causing those horrible pains?

A sudden panic surged through him—a wave of protectiveness that made no sense. He wanted to take her in his arms and demand what was wrong with her—force her to explain her illness, whatever it was.

Without thinking, he surged forward, the metal cuffs that enclosed his wrists giving a muffled
clink
as he strained against them. The silver metal itself was ungiving but he thought with some time he might be able to break the wood. It was already creaking as he pulled against it. If only—

“Hey! None of that!” She half stood, pointing the weapon she had called her “Glock” at him. “Settle down. I don’t need this crap tonight!”

Stav relaxed back against the bed.
Don’t be a fool,
he lectured himself.
She’s your captor. Any illness or wound she has is none of your concern. The only thing you ought to be worried about is getting away from her as fast as possible.

“That’s more like it.” She was still looking at him sharply.

He shrugged, trying to look nonchalant though inside his protective instincts were in high gear.

“You can’t blame a male for trying.”

“Oh, yes I can,” she snapped. “So don’t do it again.”

“I will refrain from trying to escape if you tell me something about yourself,” he said, seeing an opportunity to find out about her.

She made another incredulous noise. “Fat chance.”

Stav frowned. “I do not know what that means but if you do not talk to me I’m going to continue to try to escape. I dislike being restrained—I need something to take my mind off the fact that you have me chained to your sleeping platform like an animal.”

She sighed wearily. “Fine. What do you want to talk about?”

“What is your name?” What he really wanted to ask was what illness she had or where she was wounded but he knew that would shut down the conversation before it even began. He raised an eyebrow at her when she didn’t answer. “Well?”

She ran a hand through her hair and blew out her breath.

“Fine. I guess it can’t hurt to tell you. My name is Charlotte. Charlotte Sayers, officer in the EPB.”

“I am Commander Stavros Rii,” he responded, though she hadn’t asked. “I was in command of the warriors staffing the HKR building here in Asheville before the war between our peoples began.”

“I figured it was something like that. Why else would you hang around down here when all the rest of your kind went back to the Mother Ship?”

“I refused to leave my post,” he acknowledged. “I didn’t think I should have to—this war between the Kindred and the humans is ridiculous and will be soon over.”

“Don’t bet on it, buddy,” she snapped. “Human girls are tied of being forced to have sex with you big bastards to pay you back for saving the planet from the Scourge.”

“You think the warriors that claim human females
force
themselves on their brides?” Stavros was horrified. “That is absolutely untrue!”

“Oh yeah?” She raised an eyebrow at him. “And what do you call having to give it up by the end of the so called ‘Claiming Period?’ Because I call it rape. They may have legalized it by putting it into one of those Goddamn contracts they make all single girls sign, but it’s still rape.”

“No Kindred warrior would ever rape a female,” Stav said firmly. “We worship the Goddess—the Mother of All Life. We revere all that is feminine. Such an act would be unthinkable—blasphemy as well as brutality.”

“Then why is it in the contract that the girl
has
to have sex with the Kindred who claims her by the end of the month?” she demanded, leaning forward. “You can’t deny that’s in there—I’ve heard all about it from a lawyer who specializes in Kindred matters. My parents hired him when—” She shook her head. “Never mind. The point is they
have
to have sex whether they want to or not.”

“It’s true the contract specifies sex but not
bonding
sex,” Stavros said. “How else could the warrior and his bride see if they were physically compatible and be able to make a decision about their future together?”

“Oh, I don’t know—how about by
talking?”
she said sarcastically.

“By the time their fourth week arrives they have been talking for almost a whole Earth month,” Stav pointed out. “Talking and touching and…other things.”

“Things she’s
forced
to do,” Charlotte snapped.

Stav shook his head. “A warrior never forces his bride to do anything. He may
seduce
her but if she refuses, her word is final.”

She shook her head skeptically.

“Yeah, right. So you’re saying if you ‘claimed’ some poor girl and she didn’t want anything to do with you, you’d just say, ‘Oh well, sorry about that’ and let her go?”

“I cannot call a bride,” Stavros said a bit stiffly. “For reasons I will not go into, it is impossible for me. But if I could, I would respect her wishes. I would
never
force myself on her. Such an act would be repellent.”

Charlotte looked at him critically, as if trying to determine the veracity of his statements. Stav met her eyes unflinchingly, letting her know he was telling only the absolute truth.

“I just don’t think—” she began.

Suddenly one of those intense, stabbing pains hit her. It felt like a knife in Stav’s guts and he grunted in pain and scrambled to raise his mental shields. They helped a little but not much. The searing, grinding torture in his pelvis went on and on like a cruel fist covered in spikes twisting within him.

Though the pain was unbearably intense, he saw that Charlotte hadn’t shifted an inch. She still sat perfectly upright in the overstuffed chair, pointing her weapon at him. The only sign of her agony was a tightly clenched jaw and the fact that her full pink lips had compressed into a thin, white line.

The scent of blood was also stronger.

What in the Seven Hells is wrong with her?
Stav wondered, staring at her closed face.
And how can she endure such agony without showing it?

At last the pain eased though he had a feeling it would be back. Whatever was wrong with her, it was getting worse. And the scent of blood made him think her wound was bleeding more freely as well.

He sagged in his bonds, panting a little and Charlotte relaxed as well, leaning back against the chair wearily, as though the pain had taken much of her strength.

“What
was
that?” he asked frankly, feeling like the time for small talk was over. “What is wrong with you? And where are you wounded?”

“What are you talking about?” she demanded, glaring at him. “I’m not wounded.
You’re
the one who’s going to be wounded if you don’t shut up.” She waved the weapon at him menacingly but Stav refused to be quiet.

“If you’re not wounded, why do I smell blood?” he asked bluntly. “Are you hurt? Do you need medical attention?”

Her face changed colors quickly, going first red with embarrassment and then white with rage.

“You sick son of a bitch! I heard you Kindred had a sense of smell like a bloodhound but I never thought—”

“Just tell me where you’re wounded,” Stav said steadily. “If you’re unsure how to treat yourself, I may be able to talk you through it. I have had some medical training though most of it has to do with combat injuries. Maybe I can help.”

She gave a short, barking laugh. “No, you can’t help. Not with this. Nobody can help with this.”

“You must get help
somewhere.”
He tried unsuccessfully to keep the worry and irritation out of his voice. “You’re in agony every time one of those pains hits and you’re bleeding.”

She frowned. “How do you know about my cramps—uh, pains?”

The fact that her pain hurt him as well was a personal detail Stavros didn’t wish to go into. He didn’t want to have to explain his status as one of the Cursed or what it meant regarding his life expectancy.

“I told you, I have some medical training,” he said shortly. “Also, my people are very intuitive. But even if we weren’t, I could still smell the blood and see the pain on your face.”

“Well don’t worry yourself about me—or get your hopes up.” She lifted her chin. “I’m not in any danger. It’s just a…a female thing. That’s all.”

“A female thing?” Stav was completely at a loss. “What kind of female thing would cause you to bleed and have intense pain?”

“Are you
kidding
me?” She stared at him incredulously. “Look, I know your race is like ninety-nine percent male but don’t you have
any
females at all? And don’t they have, uh…cycles?”

“You mean a cycle as in the time it takes for a year to elapse?” he asked, frowning.

“No.” She shook her head in obvious exasperation. “I mean
monthly
cycles.”

He shrugged, still mystified.

“No. Not that I ever heard of. What kind of a monthly cycle is this? Do you mean that you bleed and have pain every one of your Earth months?”

“Well, yeah—I mean, that’s pretty much the essence of a period. I mean, it’s part of the reproductive system. It—” She shook her head. “I can’t believe I’m discussing this with you. This is ridiculous.”