Enslaved (Brides of the Kindred Book 14) (52 page)

“She
does?” Trin whispered.

Nadiah
nodded. “She does. And now you need to go. I believe there is someone you need
to see in order to complete the task the Goddess gave you. You need to be
healed.”

“All
right.” Trin nodded her head, feeling her strength and hope and purpose return.
She gestured at her arms. “I’m tired of looking like this. I’m going to see if
there’s anything I can do to look normal again.”

“You
will
be made well.” Nadiah smiled at
her. “And, Trin—you are loved and forgiven—a child of the Goddess. Always
remember that.”

“I
will,” Trin whispered. Impulsively she threw her arms around Nadiah’s neck and
hugged her. The other girl hugged her back, enfolding her in an embrace that
was kind and comforting. “Thank you so much. I will.”

Chapter
Thirty-nine

“You’re
sure about this?” Thrace
looked at the small vial of blue medicine Commander Sylvan had handed him.

“Quite
sure. Our Tolleg doctor, Yipper, has been working on it for months.” Sylvan
nodded at the little person? Animal? Thrace wasn’t sure what he was but
he was small and gray and furry and wore a white lab coat.

“Hello,
hello,” he said to Thrace,
nodding his furry head so rapidly it made his long floppy ears shake.

“Uh,
hello.” Thrace
nodded back at him.

“He
actually used much of my own essence as well as that of other Blood Kindred who
donated their time and essence to make it,” Sylvan said.

“And
it does…what again?” Thrace
raised an eyebrow at him but it was Yipper who fielded the question.

“It
enables any Kindred male to make a protein in their saliva that acts as a
healing agent. Yes it does, yes it does,” he said in his high, squeaky voice.
“So that you can heal the female you are bonded to. Only her and no one else,
you understand. Some of the Kindred already have this ability but others wanted
it as well. Yes they did, yes they did. So I developed the Healing Compound for
them.”

“But…I’m
Havoc, not Kindred,” Thrace
objected. “How do you know this will work on me?”

“Your
DNA is almost the same as a Kindred’s—ninety-nine point nine percent the same.
Yes it is, yes it is.” Yipper nodded vigorously again. “You should have no
problem metabolizing the compound. No you shouldn’t, no you shouldn’t.”

“So
you’re saying I should drink this…and then I’ll be able to heal Trin?” Thrace
was still skeptical.

“Yes,
absolutely,” Commander Sylvan said, nodding firmly. “There should be no problem
at all.”

“No
problem, you say?” Thrace
frowned. “Well,
I
can see a problem.
Even if this works, what makes you think I’d be able to convince Trin to let me
try it out on her? I can’t get through to her—not even using our bond. In
fact…” He passed a hand over his eyes briefly. “To tell you the truth, I’m not
even sure if we
have
a bond anymore.”

Not that she’d want to be bonded to me—not
now that she knows my past.
They’d never really gotten to discuss what
she’d learned about his first time as a slave back on Yonnie Six but Thrace
thought they didn’t really need to. It was clear from her actions that she
wanted to distance herself from him and while some of that was probably due to
the awful things that had happened to her in the temple, he was certain that
his own terrible past played a part in it too.

Sylvan
frowned. “That
could
be a problem if
the bond was completely destroyed. But if it’s only blocked, the compound can
still be effective simply by removing the block.”

“You
think I haven’t tried? You think I haven’t been reaching out to her, here on
the ship?” Thrace
demanded. “I don’t even think she feels me. I’m telling you, Commander, she
wants nothing to do with our bond. In fact…” He took a deep breath. “In fact,
I’ve decided to leave here. My own ship,
The
Empress
, is still in dry dock on Padge and my first mate, Solar is missing.
We were drugged and taken to the Flesh Bazaar to be sold as slaves at the same
time. If I can’t help Trin, I might as well go and help him. If he’s even still
alive.”

“Your
duty to your friend and shipmate is admirable,” Sylvan said seriously. “But
your duty to the female you are bonded to must take precedence.”

“And
it would, if she still wanted me.” Thrace let his fingers wander up to
touch the black collar he still wore. Then, with quick, decisive motions, he
took it off and laid it on the chair beside him. “If she would let me in. But
she won’t, so I have to go.” He looked down at the collar. “Knowing she’s just
down the hallway but being unable to talk to her or see her or hold her…it’s
too fucking painful.”

“I
understand,” Sylvan said quietly. “The pain of a rejected bond is
excruciating.”

“Which
is why I have to go.” Thrace
turned away. “In fact, you caught me in the middle of packing—not that I have
much to pack. I was hoping I could borrow a shuttle—just until I get
The Empress
out of drydock. I—”

“Hello,
Thrace.”

The
soft, familiar voice startled him. He turned to see Trin standing in the
doorway, a look of uncertainty on her face. She was wearing a white, sleeveless
gown that showed the long, angry red welts which marred her creamy brown skin.
Her eyes were huge and hurt-looking as they flicked first from his bare throat
and then to the discarded black leather collar which lay on the arm of the
chair beside him.

“Trin?”
He took a step towards her but she shook her head and stepped back.

“I’m
sorry,” she said softly. “Your door was open so I thought…but if you’re leaving
now, I won’t bother you. Don’t…don’t let me stop you.”

She
turned but Thrace
wasn’t about to let her go. In one stride he was across the room, taking her by
the arm.

Trin
winced and made a little sound of pain as his hand made contact with the welts
on her skin.

“Sorry,
I’m sorry!” Thrace
dropped her arm hurriedly. “I just…didn’t want you to go.”

“Why
not?” She turned to face him again.
“You
are.”

“I
have to find my first mate, Solar. He was sold as a slave too,” Thrace
reminded her. “And besides, you didn’t want to see me—didn’t want anything to
do with me.” He tried not to let the hurt and frustration creep into his voice
but it was hard. “Why are you even here?” he asked bluntly.

Trin
bit her bottom lip. “To…to be healed,” she whispered. I was told that I needed
to seek help and Commander Sylvan said he had something that might heal these…”
She gestured to her welted skin. “But that you were the only one who could give
it to me.”

“Indeed,
and Yipper and I just came to drop it off.” Sylvan, who had been standing
quietly to one side, nodded at the little vial of blue liquid Thrace still
clutched tight in his hand. “In fact, I think we ought to leave you alone now.”

“The
compound is best applied in private. Yes it is, yes it is.” Yipper nodded
vigorously.

“Good
luck.” Sylvan put a hand on Thrace’s
shoulder and squeezed briefly. “Come and see me after…one way or the other.”

“Thank
you.” Thrace
nodded and looked at the vial in his hand uncertainly.

“It
becomes effective the moment you take it. Yes it does, yes it does,” Yipper
told him and then he and the Kindred commander left, shutting the front door of
Thrace’s
guest suite quietly behind them.

Thrace
sighed
and looked down at the vial.

“Well,
here goes.” He unscrewed the lid and put the vial to his lips, downing its
contents in three quick swallows.

* * * * *

Trin
stared at him blankly.

“What
are you doing?” She shook her head. “Why did you drink the medicine that was
supposed to be for me?”

“Why
did I…oh Gods…You mean Commander Sylvan didn’t
tell
you?”

“Tell
me what? What are you talking about?” Trin asked, frowning. “He just told me to
meet him at your suite.”

“Gods…”
Thrace
went to the couch and sank down on it, putting his head in his hands.

“Thrace?”
Trin went to him. Her hand hovered over his head but she didn’t quite dare to
touch him, though she longed to bury her fingers in his thick, wild hair. “Did
I ask the wrong question? What was Commander Sylvan supposed to tell me?”

“That
the medicine he gave me wasn’t for you to drink. Or to rub on your wounds.”

“But
then…how was it supposed to help me?” Trin shook her head, not understanding.

Thrace
looked
up at her, his silver-blue eyes blazing.

“It
was for
me
to drink. It enables my
body to make a healing compound I can apply to your cuts and abrasions.”

“Apply…how?”
Trin was beginning to feel uncertain all over again.

“By
licking you,” he said softly. “By bathing your hurt areas with my tongue.
Apparently it’s the only way the medicine is effective.”

“I…I
didn’t know that.” Trin edged away from him. “No one told me that.”

“Because
I’m sure you wouldn’t have come if they had.” Thrace’s deep voice was hurt and
bitter. “I know how you feel about letting me touch you intimately. Letting me
taste
you intimately—especially now that
you know my past. I understand how wrong it makes you feel so I won’t even ask.
I’ll just go.”

He
turned away, presumably to get back to his packing. But something inside Trin
couldn’t let that happen. She couldn’t bear to watch him walk away—couldn’t let
him leave not knowing when or if she would ever see him again.

“Thrace,
wait.” Hesitantly, she reached for him and let her fingertips drift lightly
over the back of his arm.

A
visible shiver ran through him at her light touch. Turning, he faced her once
more, a look of pain etched on his strong features.

“What
is it, Trin?”

Trin
bit her lip. Not “Mistress,” not “baby” just Trin. Was that all she was to him
now? Had she pushed him away for too long? Would she ever be able to get him
back?

“I…”
She didn’t know what to say but she couldn’t remain silent. If she did, she
would lose him forever.

“Yes?”
Thrace
asked impatiently. “What is it you want?”

“I
want you to try it.” Trin lifted her chin. “I’m not afraid. Well…not much,” she
added honestly.

Thrace
sighed
and went back to the couch. “I don’t even know if it will work. It’s supposed
to be for bonded couples and you and I…I don’t even know if we’re bonded
anymore.”

Trin
looked down at her hands.

“I
know I’ve been blocking you,” she whispered. “I started it for your own
good—because I didn’t want to hurt you or drag you down with me. And now…now I
can’t seem to stop.”

“Well…”
He sighed again. “I guess you can’t help it—I don’t blame you after what you
found out about me on Yonnie Six. Not to mention everything you went through in
that fucking temple. Come here.” He gestured for her and Trin came to stand
between his thighs.

She
could feel the heat of his big body and the warm scent of his skin seemed to
envelope her. He was wearing black leather trousers and a deep red long sleeved
shirt which looked like the uniforms the Kindred wore. For a moment she was
tempted to unfasten the buttons that held it closed and caress the strong chest
she knew lay beneath…But she held back. Would her touch be welcomed? Or was Thrace still too
angry with her to want anything to do with her?

“So
you want to be healed?” he asked, taking her hand in his.

“I…I’d
like you to try. If you don’t mind.” Trin could barely look him in the eye.

“I
don’t mind.” His deep voice came out sounding rough.

“It
doesn’t have to mean anything,” Trin said quickly. “I mean, if you don’t want
it to. You can…can still leave after if you want, of course. I wouldn’t presume
to keep you.”

“You
wouldn’t, huh?” He looked up at her, his pale eyes narrowed.

“No,
of course not. After all…I have no hold on you anymore.” Trin let her fingers
drift lightly to his throat, where the collar had been for so long. “I’m not
your Mistress anymore. I’m nothing to you.”

“Oh,
Trin…” He closed his eyes briefly and for a moment she almost thought she felt
something through their blocked bond. Some deep current of emotion she couldn’t
name. Then it was gone and when he looked up at her, his eyes were hard.
“Fine,” he said flatly. “I’ll do my best to heal you and then I’ll be on my
way.”

“All
right.” She lifted her chin. “If that’s the way you want it.”

“That’s
the way
you
want it.”

Before
she could answer, he seized her hand in his and bent down as though he meant to
kiss the back of it. Instead he licked it—dragging his tongue in a long, slow
caress up her wounded arm, bathing the welts made by the
hrakka
in a single stroke.

“Oh!”
Trin gasped. But it wasn’t just his gesture that surprised her—it was the cool
tingling which immediately followed it—like a hundred tiny bubbles popping at
the same time on her wounded skin.

Thrace
stopped
at once and released her.

“I’m
sorry—did I hurt you?”

“No—it
didn’t
hurt
, exactly.” Trin examined
her arm. “It was more like a
tingling
sensation.”

“Did
it work?” Thrace
was staring at her arm too. As they watched, the long, red welts made by the
cruel instrument of torture slowly began to heal. Trin gasped as she saw the
red turn to white. After a moment the only thing left to show where the
hrakka
had marked her were four parallel
scars, thin but visible white lines running up the smooth brown of her arm.