“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.”
“Nothing that causes you such high levels of agony is ridiculous,” Stav said. “It’s serious and ought to be addressed. Why haven’t you sought treatment for this ‘monthly cycle?’ Even with primitive Earth medicine someone should have been able to do something for you.”
“My doctor has tried, all right?” she snapped, clearly on the defensive. “But nothing helps except really strong muscle relaxers and they make me so loopy I can’t see straight. And I—”
Another pain struck, this one even stronger. Though his mental shields were as high as they would go, it still felt like a knife twisting in Stav’s guts. He stiffened against his bonds, wanting to curl in on himself to ease the pain but he couldn’t in this position. All he could do was stay still and try to endure it.
Through slitted eyes, he watched as Charlotte reacted to the pain. She wasn’t quite able to remain so stoic this time. Though she remained upright—how he didn’t know—her lovely features were twisted into a mask of agony.
At last, after what seemed like a very long time, the pain began to ease. Stav relaxed back against the headboard, breathing hard. In the chair, Charlotte slumped over for a moment, her silky hair hiding her face.
“Charlotte?” he asked hoarsely. “Charlotte, are you all right?”
A soft moan of pure pain was his answer. He was about to surge forward again and attempt to break the wooden posts he was chained to when she finally lifted her head.
“Fine,” she whispered. “I…I’m fine.”
“You’re not!” Stavros was more than concerned now—he was angry. Why wouldn’t she do something to help herself? “You said there was medicine you could take,” he said. “Go and take it now before another pain hits you.”
She glared at him. “Yeah, right. And let you slip away while I’m higher than a kite on muscle relaxers? I don’t think so.”
Stav blew out a breath in frustration. He couldn’t promise not to try and escape so that she could take the medicine that helped her. He needed too badly to get back to the HKR and find out what the Mother Ship wanted to do that. But if he didn’t promise not to leave, she would continue to torture herself. And him also, since his mental shields had never been less effective.
Why can’t I block her out better? he wondered. What is it about her that’s so different from any other female I’ve ever met?
“Take your medicine,” he urged, knowing she would refuse, but helpless not to ask. “Please—the pain is more than you can bear.”
“I can stand it.” She clenched her jaw, as though determined to get through the pain, no matter how bad it got. “I’ll be just fine.”
“You won’t—this agony is sapping your strength and causing great physical damage,” Stavros growled. “You must take whatever it is that helps you.”
“I told you, I ca—”
Another pain hit, this one worse than all the others combined. Stav writhed in his bonds. Taken by surprise, he was unable to block it out even a little. On the chair, Charlotte moaned and curled in on her
self. Her weapon fell from her nerveless fingers and thumped harmlessly onto the carpet.
Through the haze of pain, Stav saw his chance. She was helpless and for the first time since he’d met her she wasn’t pointing a weapon at him. He might never get another opportunity like this.
Summoning all his mental effort, he pushed up a barrier between them. It wasn’t enough to filter out the pain completely, but it helped him recover enough strength for what had to be done.
He clenched his fists and surged forward. With a mighty heave, both of the thick wooden posts he was cuffed too splintered and broke, snapping like matchsticks under the force of his muscular arms.
Charlotte jerked at the noise. Her eyes widened in shock as she saw him stripping the metal cuffs off the broken wooden posts.
“But how could you…those were solid oak.”
“Desperation gives a male strength,” Stavros said grimly. “I must go.”
“No,” she groaned, reaching for her dropped weapon. “You can’t…”
“You won’t be needing that.” Stav quickly kicked the weapon out of reach, well under the sleeping platform. “I’m not going to hurt you—I’m just going to leave.”
“No…” she moaned again but he was already in the small room where he had seen her take his leathers and boots. They were still damp from the water she’d rinsed them with but at least they no longer smelled of the human male’s urine. Stav shrugged into them quickly and turned to go.
A low, pitiful moan from the chair in the corner of the sleeping chamber stopped him. No matter how urgent the situation on the Mother Ship was, he couldn’t leave Charlotte like this.
He crossed the room to her in two long strides and knelt down beside her small figure, curled into a ball of pain.
“Where’s your medicine?” he demanded softly. “Where it is, Charlotte? Let me get it for you before I go.”
She shook her head. Her arms were crossed over her knees which were drawn up to her chin. She clutched herself tightly—it was as though the pain inside her was a beast, trying to rip its way out and she was trying desperately to hold herself together.
Stavros recognized the look on her face from the many combat missions he’s been on. She was too far gone in the pain to answer his question. Indeed, she was so far gone he wasn’t even sure she’d heard him.
He frowned, at a loss for what to do. If she’d had an obvious wound he might have been able to heal it by licking her there—that was what Blood Kindred did for their mates, anyway. They could seal wounds with the essence that came from their fangs when their mate was hurt. But a quick check revealed nothing obvious, even though he still smelled blood on her. Also, she’d said she had a medical condition that was helped by a certain kind of medicine. But what medicine and where did she keep it?
It was a circular question—there was no way of knowing since she was incapable of answering him.
Seeing the agony on her face and feeling the pain beating against his own mental barriers, Stavros felt a rush of pity and concerned protectiveness sweeping over him again. Gods, she was so small and this torturing pain was ripping her apart! If only there was a way he could help her…
Suddenly something occurred to him. He’d been wishing she had an obvious wound so he could heal her, as his kind healed their mates. But there was something he could do that most other Blood Kindred could not. As a Cursed One, he could take some of her pain into himself for a little while and give her at least a little relief. At least, he could have done so if she was his mate.
She’s not my mate but she did make my fangs sharpen as no other female has done, he reminded himself. And I find her most…compelling. Yes, maybe it would be possible…
It wouldn’t be good for him, of course. It would be the physiological equivalent of taking poison into his body and it would probably shorten his already short life span. But he couldn’t think of any other way to help her.
“Charlotte,” he murmured. “Look at me. I’m going to touch you and try to ease the pain.”
She shook her head, clearly not understanding. That was all right—the time for talk was over. Stav cupped her cheek, feeling her softness in the palm of his hand. Skin-to-skin contact would make this easier—or so he hoped. He knew it always made blocking anyone else’s pain out more difficult if he was touching them. So touching her should make him more able to transfer her pain to himself.
Then he took a deep breath to prepare for the grinding, stabbing agony, he let down his shields.
Immediately the brutal flow of pain flooded him, so much that he could barely remain upright. He was crouched beside Charlotte’s chair, looking into her eyes which were clouded with torment but for a moment he almost fell over onto the floor. Only the dawning recognition in those lovely chocolate brown depths kept him upright.
“Your medicine,” he rasped, forcing himself to stand though he wanted to bend double with the pain. “Where is it? Tell me now. I cannot…cannot keep this up much longer.”
“Medicine cabinet,” she whispered. “The mirror on the wall opens—inside is a brown bottle. That’s it.”
“Good.” Stavros hobbled back to the small fresher area and looked in the area she had said. He was glad to find the little brown bottle almost at once. He was only taking about half of Charlotte’s pain but it was still bad enough to nearly incapacitate him. Gods, how did she deal with this every month?
When he made it back to her, he fell on his knees and fumbled with the lid of the little bottle. For some stupid reason, it wouldn’t come off. Stav swore under his breath and twisted harder as the loose metal cuffs there were still dangling from his wrists jangled—how in the Seven Hells did you get the damn thing open?
“Here. Childproof…lid.” Charlotte reached out a hand for the bottle. Her words meant nothing to him but Stav gave her the bottle. She did something which made it pop open and shook two pills into her trembling palm.
“Take them quickly,” he told her. “I cannot…I fear I cannot help much longer.”
She dry swallowed the small white pills with difficulty and closed her eyes.
Stavros waited anxiously, trying to gauge the effect the medicine had on her. He was frustrated when he didn’t feel any lessoning of the agony.
“Well?” he asked at last, feeling on the very edge of his strength. “Why is your pain not less?”
Her eyes opened slowly. “Takes awhile…to kick in. How do you know about the pain? How did you…make it less?”
“I can’t for much longer.” Stav gritted his teeth. “How long does the medicine take to work?”
She shrugged tiredly. “I don’t know. Twenty minutes?”
Stav took a breath. Twenty minutes. It’s not that long. You can bear anything for twenty minutes. And you can’t leave her like this. You can’t.
He didn’t know why but it was true. He was as incapable of walking out of the room knowing she was in pain as he had been when she had chained him to her sleeping platform and held a weapon on him. It was as though, in some strange way, he was still chained—chained to her.
“Fine,” he growled. “But I’m not sitting on the floor for twenty minutes.”
He stood wearily and gathered her small form into his arms.
“Hey!” She struggled weakly. “Hey, what are you doing? Put me down.”
“No,” he said shortly. “And stop fighting me—I am too tired for that now.”
Though she continued to protest, she went still in his arms and he was at last able to relax back against the cushions of the chair. He held her gently but firmly against his chest and found that, though he was still taking half her pain, it was much more bearable this way.
“Why are you doing this?” she whispered, going limp against him.
“I don’t know,” Stav said honestly. “Gods, if I did, I’d be a wiser male than I am now.”
He closed his eyes tiredly and let the agony roll through him. Twenty minutes, he reminded himself. You can do anything for twenty min�
�
“Stavros? Commander Stavros Rii?”
The voice in his head made him jerk and caused the female in his arms to moan. Unconsciously, Stav rubbed her back soothingly as he answered the call.
“Who is this? Are you bespeaking me from the Mother Ship?”
“I am—or have been trying to for hours. This is Commander Sylvan of the High Council. We have need of you here.”
“But I—” Stav began.
“I know you don’t want to leave your post but you must. There is a mission only you can perform, Commander. The fate of the Kindred and of the entire planet Earth may rest on it.”
Stav sat up straighter, the borrowed agony flowing through his body almost forgotten.
“Of course, Commander Sylvan—what must I do?”
“First we need…you up here. But…very…”
“What?” Stavros strained to hear the voice in his head. “I’m sorry, Commander Sylvan but the transmission is breaking up.”
“…quickly!” the voice of Commander Sylvan echoed in his mind. “But…careful. Dark…very…must not…”
“What? I can’t hear you!” Stav sent with frustration.
“…dangerous!” was the last word he caught and then the strange, temporary link Commander Sylvan had somehow been able to establish with him was gone.
I can’t wait anymore, he thought, looking at the female in his arms. I must go now. I have to get back to my shuttle and get to the Mother Ship now—tonight!
But what to do with Charlotte? She was in the grip of unspeakable pain. It might have eased the tiniest bit but it was still horrible. Stav felt strongly that he couldn’t leave her this way.
Why leave her at all? whispered a little voice in his brain. Why not take her with you? The more he thought of it, the better the idea seemed. After all, she had admitted that no one here on Earth could help her with her desperate medical condition. Maybe someone on the Mother Ship could. Also, this way she wouldn’t get into trouble with her superior for losing him. She could simply say she’d been kidnapped. The conflict with Earth would surely be over soon and she could be returned to her home planet unharmed, as a heroic prisoner of war.
Cursed Page 5
