The Siren's Call (Fantasy, Science Fiction, Romance) (FORCED TO SERVE) (18 page)

Chiang ignored the emotion Boca was showing to finish cleaning the wound and gently apply a healing ointment to it.

“Done,” he said gruffly.

Then he pushed her knees apart and stepped between her legs to wrap his arms tightly around her, not asking permission because he didn’t need anything more than to feel her need to be consoled reaching out to him.

The sob she had held in echoed through his chest as Boca finally let go the energy of what she had suffered.

“I’m sorry to respond so poorly to your kindness,” she whispered between sobs.

“You’re not the first female to have done so. I doubt you will be the last,” Chiang said softly, shifting a surprisingly nonresistant Boca closer to him.

He ran a soothing hand down her neck and across her back, pulling her flush against him until her thighs almost surrounded his hips. As she hugged him, he was studying her neck, realizing he had never seen her hair down. He wondered how long it was. When Boca worked in Medical, her hair was always caught up and fastened behind her head.

His growing interest in her was soon obvious to them both, as he fit tightly between her legs and was not the size of male that could hide his reactions. Still, he merely leaned his forehead against hers, making no move to increase their intimacy—no matter how badly he wanted to.

“I knew you felt you had to go and I wouldn’t have stopped you. My only wish after you left was for your success and safe return. I know you probably won’t believe this, but I swear by the Creators that I value you above all other females. There have been no bonding partners for me since the day I met you and knew you were meant to be with me,” Chiang whispered, closing his eyes at her tiny moan of disbelief.

He couldn’t blame her for doubting him. He barely believed it himself, but every female’s face was now hers. There weren’t any substitutes.

“But I do not want a mate,” Boca whispered back.

“Yet another agreement between us. I do not want one either,” Chiang said sincerely. “But I still want you in any way you will give yourself to me. I need you.”

He felt her small but very strong hands bracket his face.

“
Slaggika
,” he heard Boca swear roughly, just before she sought his mouth urgently, the contact just as amazing as it had been the first time.

“You do not know me,” Boca warned against his now restless mouth beneath hers. “I am not what you see.”

“Then show me what you are, Boca Ador. You have shown your truth to Malachi, and he still wants you. If you eventually choose the demon to share your bed, so be it, but give me a chance as well,” Chiang said, his tone defiant.

“
Bed the demon?
I do not lust for Malachi’s host body,” Boca said bitterly. “I think of him only as a friend. If he does not cease trying to deceive others about our friendship, he will lose that as well.”

“Good news for me, but I don’t think he’s going to like to know it,” Chiang said, stepping away while it still was possible.

The female’s kisses made him very possessive. It was not a comfortable feeling. Now she had all but admitted she wanted him—and only him. Chiang was struggling not to let the knowledge go to his head.

“Good news? It is not really,” Boca replied, jumping down from the table. “I lust for you, Chiang of Greggor, but I don’t want you either. Denial of my needs is second nature to me after three hundred years. I’ve become accustomed to not having what I want.”

“Perhaps your fate is about to change,” Chiang suggested, risking a smile as he moved the curtains back.

“Probably not,” Boca said sternly, looking in disgust at the Medical tunic that fell to her knees. It was obviously meant for a male medic. Were there no reasonably sized female ones to be had on rescue ships? It was why she so often wore her own meager clothing.

“Do not be so hopeful, Chiang. I will be leaving shortly. After I am gone, I am sure you will go back to being your normal indiscriminate self.”

Chiang opened his mouth to retaliate, but stopped when Synar lifted his gaze to them.

“It’s time. Malachi says to pull the knife out now,” he said

Chiang walked around the table and looked at the knife protruding from Ania’s back, wondering what direction to pull it out on exit and how much bleeding there would be. Would they need to suture the wound?

He started to ask Boca to get some bandages when she walked past him, examined the blade area, and pulled the knife out cleanly with one movement. Ania’s body flinched once but settled into quiet again.

Boca held up the wet knife and studied its blade in the light. “Good. It’s just a Zenos short sword. No poison carriage attached, but the Ceruse metal itself is poison to some. If she is affected, the weakness will linger in her body for several weeks.”

Looking down at the wound area, they both saw there was very little bleeding. Chiang took a wet cloth from the prep kit nearby and dabbed at the small amount of seepage. Boca found a tray and laid the knife in it, leaving it soiled.

“In case we need to know about the wound,” she said, answering the unspoken question in Chiang’s gaze on it.

“How is she?” Synar asked them finally, stroking Ania’s fingers with his, jerking when he felt her movement.

“Liam? What happened to me?” Ania asked drowsily. “My back feels like it’s on fire. Did I get shot with a stunner again?”

Synar smiled into her deep blue eyes clouded with pain but fired up with irritation. “No—I wish it had been a stunner. You were stabbed this time.”

“Stabbed? Is the one who did it dead?” she asked tiredly.

“Worse than just dead,” he answered. “Malachi turned him into micro dust.”

“Why would Malachi be so extreme over something he knows I don’t even remember happening? I told him not to do that anymore,” Ania said wearily.

“Sorry,” Synar told her. “I countermanded your niceness directive and ordered your attacker’s death. The demon master rules when the demon host is unconscious. Next time, don’t get caught if you’re in the mood to spare your attackers.”

He knew she was going to make it when she sputtered indignantly and tried to laugh at his statements.

“I guess I don’t need to ask where Malachi is right now,” Ania said softly. “As drugged as I feel, I can still sense him doing things inside me. He better not be messing with any of my memories again.”

Synar laughed, but her comments reminded him of Dorian’s dilemma.

“I am sure Malachi is too busy fixing your knife wound to get into very much trouble at the moment. Why don’t you sleep now? Let the drugs have you a little longer. Thank you for not returning to the Creators. I would have grieved you until my death, and there is no time in my schedule at the moment.”

“You are joking to cover your fear. Perhaps Malachi was not the only one afraid. Why don’t you come kiss me and reassure us both?” Ania demanded, tugging weakly on his fingers as she rolled almost to her back.

Synar stood and bent to gently brush his lips over hers. “You are everything to me, Ania Looren. More important than even my ship. I left it to Chiang and the ensigns while I came to rescue you.”

“Wow—you must have really been worried,” Ania said. “How close to death was I?”

“Not even that close. It was just a painful life lesson for me to learn that even with all the power you possess, you were not completely safe,” Synar told her.

“Liam, I learned that lesson long ago. I do not know why I didn’t perceive their treachery beforehand,” she whispered, lifting a hand to his jaw.

“I know why, but that discussion can wait until you are well enough to hear it,” he said, trying not to let his tone reveal how set his intention was on having his will be manifested in the future, at least his will concerning his ship and its crew.

“Fine—then tell me of the others instead. Did we all survive?” Ania asked.

He perched on the edge of the bed, noticing that she rolled even more to her back. Malachi was working fast now that the knife was out.

“As I understand it, Gwen freed herself from captivity. While that was happening, Dorian freed himself and stumbled across her as he followed their mating cord. Together they found Sarinnea and a Norblade male that Sarinnea refused to leave behind. By the way, did you teach Gwen to curse metal?” he asked.

Ania laughed. “Hard to say. I gave her the word, but you know how she is.”

Synar laughed back. “You’ll be glad to know your teaching worked.”

“Good,” she said firmly, closing her eyes. “Dorian is safe then?”

“Safe—but…” Synar paused. “He does not know who he is. Gwen has been keeping him close and making sure he stays…calm.”

“Very wise of her. Have you seen a male Siren with no control over his energy?” Ania said. “They are like raging beasts. It is why they abstain from inebriation.”

“So far the only person he’s threatened is Chiang. Apparently some of the Greggor’s energy is still in Gwen’s aura. Dorian still has his intuitive gifts, but very little control over the course they take,” Synar said, stroking the strained muscles of her face, surprised when it creased in laughter again.

“What’s so funny about that?” he asked.

“I am wicked. I was just thinking Dorian and Gwen are a more perfect match now. I hope I heal fast enough not to miss all the fun. May the Creators help those of us who have to deal with them though,” Ania said on a snort, then her voice got serious. “His memory will return in time. It must.”

“Aye—it must,” Synar agreed solemnly. “Now will you rest while I go relieve Gwen? She’s been stuck on the bridge in her slave outfit. The ensigns probably can’t take much more temptation. Most of them have not bonded with any of the females onboard.”

Ania laughed again and closed her eyes. “Does Conor’s body still live?”

“The host body is fine,” Chiang announced, walking up to Ania and laying a hand on her to draw her attention to him. “Good to have you back, Ania Looren.”

“Good to be back, Lieutenant. Working in Medical again?” she asked.

Chiang started checking her vitals and noticed Boca lifting the covers to straighten them around Ania’s limbs. Whispering healing words, he slid a hand under her shoulder and sent energy into the wound while Boca rubbed her legs to ease her tension. After a short time, he stopped chanting and answered her question.

“Yes. I have discovered that I prefer Medical to the bridge, since the captain has decided I cannot be in Engineering. Perhaps if you heal, your mate will accept my request to be demoted,” Chiang teased, shifting his hand a bit higher and watching the pain ease from her face at last.

“Engineering is not your destiny, Chiang,” Ania said quietly, and then rolling her head to the side, she went very still.

Chiang straightened and looked at his captain. “She rests now. All seems to be well.”

Synar nodded. “Thank you, Chiang. When the new officer arrives, we can discuss your destiny then.”

Chiang bowed his head and spoke the truth when he raised it. “I believe the Creators have already shown me. I will work where I am needed most.”

“Yes,” Synar agreed, looking around Medical. Chiang was combining many talents there. “The Creators seem to have taken a particular interest in the destinies of every crew member on the Liberator. I may have to have a long talk with them next time I meditate.”

Chiang wasn’t sure if what the stoic Norblade male said was meant to be a joke or not, so he didn’t laugh. Most of the time he couldn’t tell with the captain.

“Call me if anything changes,” Synar ordered, returning Chiang’s head bow.

After Synar left, Boca raised a hand to his arm. “I wish to clean up and rest. May I send another medic to assist you while I do so? I will come back to watch the stasis machine and Ania later while you rest.”

Chiang nodded. “I am fine. Greggors do not suffer from sleep deprivation as much as most creatures. We can survive a week with very little rest. You must recover from your ordeal.”

“What happened is over and no longer matters,” Boca said, turning away from the compassion in his gaze. “If I had been allowed to finish my training, my face would not be scratched.”

“If you are sure of that, get Jurek to finish training you then. Life on a rescue ship requires all crew members to be combat ready. He trains the younger ensigns every day,” Chiang advised.

“You would not mind to see me trained as a warrior?” Boca asked, surprised.

Chiang walked to her, lifting his fingers to touch her cheek by the wound. “Of course I would mind, but I would still prefer you do whatever it takes to be safe.”

“It does not threaten you to spend time with a female who could kill you?” she asked.

Chiang laughed. “At the risk of inciting your wrath, I will point out that I spent a considerable amount of time with Gwen Jet, who is about as bloodthirsty a warrior as I have ever seen. Perhaps I tried not to think about it too much, but I knew her true nature. It is partially why I find her relationship to Zade so entertaining. He is so calm that sometimes we weren’t sure he had a pulse. Of course, we’ve seen a different side of him this week.”

“Lieutenant Zade is actually quite fierce,” Boca said, mesmerized by Chiang’s friendly touch on her. “You are also not as calm as you seem. You have repressed parts of yourself.”