Shadowed: Brides of the Kindred book 8 (37 page)

“That’s…terrible,” Nina whispered. “But who would do such a thing? Who has him?

The witch sighed. “As to that, I do not know. But I
do
know that the time of his freedom is near.” Her yellow pupils rolled up, leaving only the whites of her eyes visible, and she began to chant in a slow, sonorous voice that didn’t sound like her own.

“Dark and Light

Wrong and Right

When one finds Peace

The other may Fight

Day and Night

Growth and Blight

One in Love

The other in Flight

Tied together

Fate to fate

Strangers, brothers

Mate to mate

Prisoners they no longer be

When one is healed

The other is free.”

“What…what does that even mean?” Nina sat back, frightened of the witch’s strange new voice. It reminded her of how possessed people always sounded in horror movies. For the first time she began to wonder if maybe the woman was mentally disturbed.

The witch blinked, her eyes returning to normal. “It means the time of Therron’s freedom is almost near. And your darling Reddix is going to bring it about—whether he knows it or not.”

“What do you mean?” Nina asked. “How could he possibly—?”

“Nina? Are you all right?” The new, familiar voice made Nina’s head whip around. There, standing in the doorway of the small cottage, was Reddix.

“Reddix!” She wanted to jump off the stool to run to him, but the sudden weakness overcame her again, and she could barely lift her hand. “
Reddix
,” she whispered again.

“Are you hurt? Did she hurt you?” He came striding over, but the witch was suddenly between them.

“She’s perfectly fine, warrior.”

“I heard her screaming! Stand aside and let me go to her.” Reddix’s deep voice was filled with menace.

“Very well.” The witch stepped aside and let him pass.

As soon as he put his arms around her, Nina felt as though a great weight had been lifted off her shoulders. She sighed in relief and pressed her head to his chest.

“You found me,” she breathed. “How did you know where to look?”

“Because of this.” He showed her the inside of his right wrist where the snake-like tattoo had shrunk down to a tiny dot.

“I’ll take that if you please. It has served its purpose well.” The swamp witch held out one long white hand, and the tiny red snake-shaped speck jumped from Reddix’s wrist into her palm. “Excellent.” She looked pleased.

“Come on.” Reddix pulled Nina off the stool, supporting her almost completely since she was still so weak. “We’re leaving now.”

“Truly? Leaving without your cure? The cure your beloved paid for with her pain and blood?” The witch raised an eyebrow at Reddix.

“I want nothing more from you,” he said shortly. “Except that you stay far away from me and mine.”

“Very well.” The witch shrugged and stepped aside again. Reddix swung Nina into his arms and was about to leave the hut when she added, “But if you ever want her to stop bleeding, you’ll have to take the cure.”

“What?” He turned, frowning, and Nina looked down at her wrist. The yellow cloth the witch had wrapped around her wound was spotted with blood. As she watched, the bloody splotches grew, and she felt even weaker.

“Reddix,” she whispered. “Something…something’s wrong.”

Reddix glared at the witch. “What in the Seven Hells have you done to her, Xandra?”

“It’s not what I’ve done—it’s what
you’re
doing, my dear Reddix.” The witch gave him an evil grin. “You see, I started the circle by adding your darling Nina’s blood to my curative potion.” She gestured at the pale purple liquid in the pot, which was now bubbling again as though it had never served time as a magic mirror. “You must complete the circle by drinking some of the potion—only by consuming the blood she sacrificed for you can you staunch the flow of her wound.”

“That’s sick,” Reddix protested. “I don’t want to drink her blood.”

The witch shrugged. “I’m afraid it’s the nature of sacrificial magic. A sacrifice, once offered, must be accepted or the one who makes the sacrifice dies. Or in this case, slowly bleeds to death.”

“Fine.” Reddix put Nina down carefully, still supporting her with one arm. “Give me the potion. I’ll drink it.”

“As you wish.” The witch picked up a carved wooden mug and dipped it into the contents of the cauldron. She brought it out, brimming with pale purple liquid, and handed it to Reddix. “Drink, warrior. Drink for freedom and an end to pain. Drink to save your female’s life and set free one whose life is linked to yours.”

Nina began to have a worried feeling. Was the witch only talking about her? Or was she making some veiled reference to the strange man in chains she’d showed Nina in the cauldron—the one she’d claimed was her son. Who had chained him up in the first place? And what would happen if he ever got free?

“Reddix,” she began. “I don’t think—”

But Reddix was already downing the contents of the mug. His Adam’s apple worked as he swallowed it all in three long gulps. Then he finished and thrust the mug back at the witch.

“Here. I’m done with you now.”

“Very well.” The witch nodded.

“Is he cured now?” Nina asked. “Of his RTS, I mean?”

“As much as it was possible to cure him. I could not give him a normal Touch Sense or enable him to give a female the Deep Touch, but the emotions of others will be muted to him now—no more bothersome than a few pesky flies buzzing around his head.”

“The Deep Touch? What’s that?” Nina asked.

“Never mind my dear. It’s nothing that will ever concern you.” The witch was smiling now—an expression so gleeful it made Nina feel even more uneasy. What was she so happy about? Surely she wouldn’t get this much joy out of just curing Reddix of his RTS. Would she?

“And what about the other—the man you showed me in your cauldron?” she asked. “Is he—”

“Therron is beyond my reach—but not beyond hers,” the witch said mysteriously. “There is one coming soon—one of your own kind, in fact—who will free him of his chains. She will—”

“Ahh!” The hoarse shout came from Reddix, who had fallen to the ground on his knees. He was clutching the sides of his head and staring blindly at the floor as he shook in pain. “Ah, Gods—my eyes! The pain. The
pain
,” he groaned.

Nina looked wildly at the witch. “What did you do to him? Help him!”

“Oh, didn’t I mention?” The witch smiled nastily. “The potion is effective in curing RTS, but there are a few…side effects.”

Chapter Thirty-one

Reddix fell to the ground, bright lights flashing behind his eyes and searing pains stabbing through his skull. The sudden, blinding pain was as bad or worse than anything he had experienced with the Hurkon collar, and it wouldn’t stop—it went on and fucking
on
.

Dimly he heard Nina demanding that the witch help him, but Xandra only said something about side effects and that the pain had to run its course. He wanted to ask how long it would take—how much more he would have to endure—it felt like someone was driving silver spikes through his eyes and straight into his brain. But then, as suddenly as it had come, the pain was gone.

Reddix blinked his eyes and started to get up—until he realized he couldn’t see anything at all. Everything was completely black. And then the witch started speaking again—but this time he didn’t hear her with his ears. This time he heard her with his mind.

“Listen to me Reddix, son of Redan,”
she whispered in his mind.
“The time has come for us to part ways, but you have served your purpose well. In return, I will show you something few are privileged to see—a glimpse of your future.”

Reddix opened his mouth, wanting to protest that he didn’t want anything else from her, that he didn’t
want
to see his future. But then the blackness that covered his eyes cleared, and the vision unfolded before him…

“Reddix, did you bring the milk I asked you to get?” Nina stood just inside the door of their suite on the Mother Ship.

“Milk?” he asked coming in and giving her a peck on the cheek. “You mean the white liquid you squeeze from animals on your home planet?”

She sighed in exasperation. “Yes, pretty much. I’m all out of it, and I wanted some for my coffee. I asked Lissa to ask Saber through their link to tell you. Didn’t he?”

“He must have forgotten.” Reddix sighed and started to head for the door. “I’m sorry—I’ll go get some now.”

“No…forget it.” Nina put a hand on his arm. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll get some later.”

“I don’t mind,” Reddix protested. “I know you miss Earth. I want you to have things that remind you of home. Things that make you happy.”

“I
am
happy.” She gave him a small troubled smile. “It’s just that…”

“Just that what?” Reddix asked.

Nina shook her head and moved away from him. “Just…I wish we had a mental connection like Lissa and Saber and Kat and Lock and Deep…and pretty much all the other Kindred and their wives. It would make things so much more convenient. And…I’d feel so much closer to you.”

Pain stabbed through him and shame too—shame that he couldn’t give her what she wanted. What she needed. What any normal male would have been able to give.

“We’ve been over this,” he growled. “I told you before we got joined that I would never be able to really bond you to me. You said it didn’t matter.”

Nina frowned. “But it
does
matter, Reddix! I just want what every other woman on this ship has. I just want to feel
close
to you.”

“We can feel close,” he murmured, coming to take her in his arms. “Very, fucking close, sweetheart.”

Nina kissed him willingly, her soft, curvy body tight against his. Reddix enjoyed tasting her mouth as she moaned softly and pressed against him. When they finally came up for air, he tried to lead her to the bedroom.

“Wait…” She put a hand on his shoulder. “Reddix, I’ve been meaning to ask you, what exactly does the Deep Touch mean? And what does it feel like? You’ll never talk about it to me, but I’ve heard things…”

A second lance of pain and shame pierced his heart. “The Deep Touch?”

“Well…yes. Lissa was talking about it, and she said it’s amazing. I just wondered…”

“It has nothing to do with you. With either of us,” Reddix said shortly, pulling away. “Forget about it. I’ll never be able to give it to you.”

“But I thought…thought maybe just
trying
it might draw us together,” Nina protested.

“Don’t you understand?” he roared. “I have an inverted Touch Sense! I can’t give you that—I’ll
never
be able to give you that.”

Nina recoiled from him, her eyes bright with tears.

“I’m sorry. I never should have said…I just wanted…”

“Wanted what?” he growled impatiently.

“You’re so distant lately, Reddix. I just want to feel close to you…I never feel like I really know you. Like I can really talk to you…” She swiped the tears from her eyes. “I’m sorry…”

“She will never feel close to you—not as she should,”
the witch’s voice whispered in his mind.
“Without a working Touch Sense you’ll never really bond her to you, never give her the Deep Touch. Never make her yours completely. You’ll make her life miserable, Reddix. And eventually, she will leave you because of it.”

The scene changed, and this time he saw Nina carrying a heavy suitcase and crying.

“Goodbye,” she was saying, as she left the suite. Her grandmother—Mehoo-Jimmy—was waiting just outside for her.

“Come on, eecho,” she said soothingly. “Come away now. He’s no good for you.”

“Nina,” Reddix whispered, but her name stuck in his throat.

“Goodbye,” she said again, and tears were streaming from her eyes. “Oh, Reddix, it breaks my heart to go, but I can’t…can’t stay with you. Can’t live with a man I can’t understand. Who won’t communicate with me. I’m sorry—I need more than that.”

And then she turned her back on him. With no bond to hold her to him, it was just that easy. She could walk out of his life and leave him forever. Leave and never come back again…

“Wait!”
Reddix wanted to shout.
“Wait, I’ll do better, I’ll give more…”
But it was too late, Nina had already turned, and she and her grandmother were gone as though they had never been there in the first place.

“This is your future,”
the witch whispered to him once more.
“I wish I could show you something more pleasant since you’ve been so helpful, but the potion tells only the truth.”

“That can’t be true,”
he protested, mind-shouting at her.
“Nina wouldn’t leave me like that.”

“But of course, she would. My dear Reddix, what do you think holds a Kindred and his bride together? What enables two people from such vastly different cultures—from different planets—to join as one? It is the life-bond. The mind connection that the Goddess grants to all her children when they become one in her name. Without it, they are too different to understand each other for long. Too disparate to make their love work. Without the bond, your love for Nina and hers for you will wither and die like a plant deprived of water.”