The Healer's Kiss: Book Four of the Forced To Serve Series (10 page)

“Well, shit,” Ania said fiercely, lifting a hand to her mouth. “Sorry. Pleiadians don’t have adequate swear words. I decided to borrow one of Gwen’s.”

“Well,
Gwen
is too shocked to swear. Anybody want to tell me why our new lieutenant is unconscious on the floor? The Siren tongue isn’t completely familiar to me yet,” Gwen said, defending her lack of comprehension even as she vowed to double her studies. Damn it, everyone in the room had understood but her.
That
situation was not going to continue. Zade was her mate. She may not always understand him, but she at least wanted to understand his words.

Dorian looked up apologetically at his mate. “Forgive me, Sweet Joy. I was so shocked that I defaulted to my native tongue. In all likelihood, Ania has put an emissary of the Creators into a trance. Most stories describe them as special messengers and guides sent by our deities to do specific spiritual work.”

“What do you mean special messenger? Rena Trax is like some avenging angel?” Gwen repeated, laughing as she looked down at the normal looking female. There were no wings, no halos, and no ominous voice. She couldn’t be much of one if the female hadn’t seen Ania coming at her with that badass Khalsa move Gwen was determined to one day master.

“
Well, shit
,” Gwen said on a laugh, running a hand through her short hair. “Is that bad?”

Fearing the entity no longer now that he’d watched Ania incapacitate her, Malachi bent down again and scooped the female under discussion up into his arms. Her physical form was not light, but she was of a comfortable enough weight for him to manage. One thing was for sure—whatever she was—Rena Trax smelled divine, more divine than even the delectable Boca Ador.

It shocked him to feel his body grow aroused over such a creature. Obviously, Conor’s Synar physical form had some odd tastes in females. First it was the wicked-minded Issa Onin, whom he had to studiously avoid to keep from giving in to Conor’s residual urges. And now his body was apparently cursed with desiring this sacred one.

Of course, Malachi could well imagine Conor Synar thinking he could get by with debauching an emissary of the Creators. He was just grateful that he had more control over Conor’s physical form than Conor had ever had. Otherwise, he’d be taking the divine smelling, faux Ethosian to his room, and doing what he wanted with her unconscious form, no matter what his keepers thought. He stood staring at her, sighing in consternation as images of bonding with her swirled around in his head.

“Someone get the female calling herself Seta Trax. I doubt she’ll wake up until this one does. I agree with Ania that they are linked energetically. Let’s get them to Medical and make sure they didn’t get any head bumps when they fell,” Malachi ordered. “Somebody call Chiang and let him know we’re bringing in two for treatment. Boca’s way too tired to do any bonding with him tonight anyway.”

Ania looked at Malachi, not fooled at all by his feigned nonchalance, or his attempts to redirect everyone’s concern from the Trax siblings to Chiang and Boca. The demon had not been bested by anyone with more power than him since his conversion. It didn’t surprise Ania that Malachi would be drawn to the deceitful Ethosian, if only out of curiosity. Of course, if the emissary of the Creators had been a male, Malachi might have killed the creature’s host body before she or Liam could have stopped him from doing so.

“Malachi? Don’t you want us to call for a transport? Medical is a fair distance from here,” Ania warned, sending a grin in his direction and getting a wicked look in return. Since Liam tuned into Malachi’s thoughts routinely now, she and Malachi were reduced to elaborate eye contact and brow lifts for private tormenting.

“No, I’ve got her,” Malachi said as casually as he could to Ania, striding to the door.

Enjoying the heady, female scent worn by the entity calling herself Rena Trax was obviously all he dared do, but he was going to enjoy it for as long as possible. Having already had a taste of her power, he knew to fear her. When the spiritual being chose to revive her physical form, who knew what she would do to all of them? Yet for some reason self-preservation seemed less important to him at that moment than carrying the female in his arms and indulging his fantasies. If she woke up enraged, it might be the last sensual act he got to have in his existence. Might as well make the most of the opportunity, he decided.

“My strength has returned. Maybe I should carry her,” Ania offered, starting towards Malachi. “I’m the one who’s in the most trouble. After all, I’m the one who put her in a trance.”

“If you must do penance, carry the other one,” Malachi ordered with a grin. “But I’m sure the effort would be less taxing on Lieutenant Zade.”

Across the room, Malachi saw Liam still busy talking to Chiang on the conference table com link. He looked up at their joking conversation, glaring at both of them for daring to be amused.

Go
, Liam sent to him, not bothering with words. Malachi nodded at the curt command but didn’t answer since his master could plainly see what he was doing.

Grinning back at Ania as he left carrying his nemesis, Malachi lifted Rena higher and waved his hand over the door panel to open it, running his hand caressingly over her very pleasing female rear in the process of adjusting her in his arms.

Yes, he was probably risking being sent into oblivion if on some level of consciousness the emissary was aware of how much he enjoyed touching her physical form. Not that he could really help it. Her rounded rear was just too tempting to resist. And he had never been able to do that well, no matter which host body he had been occupying.

***

The com unit on the tiny table next to the bed chimed, making Chiang growl in annoyance. And this time he heard himself.

One of the first things the Captain had done after promoting him to Doctor was require him to keep a wrist com unit on or near him at all times. He briefly considered using his fist to silence the noisy device for good, but he didn’t want to wake Boca, who was finally sleeping peacefully on top of him. She had been in a lot of pain.

He picked up the unit and pressed the button. “Chiang here,” he said as softly as he could.

“We’re headed to medical with two unconscious patients. One is in a trance. We don’t know what’s wrong with the other,” Synar explained.

“I will meet you there,” Chiang said wearily, pressing the button before putting the com unit back on the table. He ran hands over Boca again and felt her sigh against him. “Shhhh…sleep. There’s no reason for you to go this time. You need your energy to heal yourself.”

“Regular rest is impossible on this ship. Why can’t our crew leave each other alone long enough for us to go more than three or four sleep cycles without an incident?”

Chiang laughed at Boca’s complaining and rolled with her until her body slid down off his to the bed. “The demon—I mean—Malachi can assist me. If we need your expertise, I will call you on the wrist unit. I will not need it next door.”

“Okay,” Boca conceded, her body hurting too much not to take advantage of his offer. “Perhaps you might bring back something for the pain to help me rest better?”

“Of course,” Chiang replied, petting her long hair one final stroke before rising to put on his clothes.

Chapter 7

“One has a tiny lump from the fall, but nothing serious enough to cause the unconscious state she’s in. Why did you not contact Medic Lor? He could have brought an ice pack for her while you waited on transports,” Chiang said, walking to the second female. “What happened to the other one? I never quite got the whole story. I was practically asleep when Synar called.”

Chiang looked at the captain, Zade, Ania Looren, and Gwen all lined up along the wall at the foot of the medical tables. They looked guilty of some wrong. Malachi was walking from table to table, adjusting covers and pillows to make sure the still comatose females were as comfortable as possible. It was strange to see the demon being solicitous without being coerced. The subdued manner of the others was setting off all kinds of intuitive warnings, putting him and his instincts in a sour mood.

“Are you going to tell me what happened? Or should I start guessing?” Chiang demanded.

“I put the one in the gown in a trance,” Ania admitted finally, studying the females.

“
Rena Trax
,” Gwen said, offering the name.

“Fine. Yes. The one calling herself—
Rena Trax
,” Ania said, repeating the name the entity was using. “We didn’t call a medic because I purposely put her in this state. She was emitting an energy signature stronger than the Azron crystals powering the ship.”

Chiang put his hand on the mid-section of the elaborately-dressed female again. “I sense nothing. Are you certain?”

“Aye,” Ania said. “She is cloaking it, but the energy is there.”

Malachi looked at Chiang. “The other reason we didn’t call Medic Lor was that I was there to help. Oh, and by the way, Seta Trax, the other female, hosts a demon. Not nearly as powerful as I am, but still dangerous to the ship and its crew.”

Malachi ignored the Chiang’s standard expulsion of frustrated breath, preferring to shock the Greggor and just get it over with.

Chiang walked to the second one, their alleged new lieutenant, and held his hand palm-down over her mid-section as well. “Okay. I do sense something deep in the lieutenant, but no darkness. Her energy does not read like yours.”

Malachi snorted. “Her demon is obviously not as developed or the host would still be conscious.”

“Not necessarily,” Zade interjected. “We don’t know what they are capable of or why they are even here.”

“Actually, I do. Rena said they had waited a long time to serve on Liam Synar’s ship,” Malachi reported. “Those are close to her exact words. She is here because of Liam.”

All eyes turned to their captain. Synar sighed and stepped away from the wall. “I have no idea why. We can stand here guessing all night, or Ania can release her from the trance and we can find out. None of us can read them, not even you,” he said, looking at Malachi.

“Are you willing to take that risk, Liam? If Rena Trax chooses to harm someone, I may not be able to stop her.”

“Well, what else do you suggest? Shoot their unconscious host bodies out escape pod tubes and forget about them?” Synar challenged. His irritated gaze swung first to Ania and then to Dorian. “You two are the spirituals experts. What’s the call here?”

Dorian sighed. “If Malachi is correct about her power, their unconscious states may be just a ruse to give us time to come to terms with it all. It could be some kind of spiritual test for all of us.”

Malachi shook his head. “I’m not completely disagreeing with you, Lieutenant, but Rena Trax was adamant about only two things when we spoke. One—that I not touch Seta because she said her sibling had an aversion to be touched by males. And two—that Seta never know she hosts a demon. At the very least, I would suggest the use of extreme discretion concerning the new lieutenant. We need only question Rena to find the whole answer. It is she who controls both their fates—and likely ours.”

Synar nodded. “Agreed. We will keep the information about the demon in Lieutenant Trax confidential until we determine the nature of the threat. Ania, let’s wake up the being calling herself ‘Rena Trax’ and see what she has to say.”

Ania walked to the female in the trance, spoke the words of release, and saw Rena immediately rise into a sitting position. She held up her hand and all froze—except Ania and Malachi. Chiang was poised over the new lieutenant, his hand just above her mid-section. Liam, Dorian and Gwen looked stunned.

Ania lifted a brow in amazement as she looked at the female responsible. “Thinking you were an emissary of the Creators, I was going to apologize for my earlier defensive actions, but now I’m not so sure I regret rendering you unconscious.”

Rena turned her attention to Ania and Malachi, but when she held a hand up to them both and made a fist, only Malachi fell into convulsions of pain.

Ania merely looked down at herself and found she felt—
nothing
. She looked up again, feeling Malachi’s power igniting within her. It had been weeks since she’d had to contend with demon rage, but it all came flowing back in a rush.

Approaching the bed where the emissary of the Creators sat staring at her with condescension, Ania felt her anger growing even more. She was upset about having to face the darkness inside her again, as much as at having to fight the up-to-now mythical being she had long idolized. As she prepared for battle, her most prominent repeating thought was that she was getting really tired of losing her illusions.

“Despite any exalted purpose you serve for the Creators of All, my patience with you is now limited. You seem to have control over the others, but evidently I have control over the form you’re hiding in. Never doubt I will use that control to save those on this ship. This is going to be my only warning to you. If you wish your host body to come to no harm, release them immediately.”

Believing the Pleiadian female’s quietly spoken words since they were backed up by the demon power lighting her angry gaze, Rena uncurled her fingers and watched as Malachi rose gagging from his efforts to breathe normally.

It was most unexpected to feel neutrality from the demon, and yet righteous hatred from the being who was obviously his willing host. Rena knew the Creators were displeased with her, but many times she had put a restraint field around beings and always with their blessing. The field merely slowed their vibrations and took them out of their participation in time. No harm was ever done.

Why were those actions wrong with these creatures?

And why were the Creators supporting and harboring one of the walking dead? The Pleiadian’s immunity was another surprise she hadn’t been expecting, not to mention further chastisement from those she served. Who was this female with power over her? She had been promised no being’s power would
ever
be greater than hers.