Cursed

by Evangeline Anderson

  “Not a big deal,” he repeated flatly.

  “No, it’s not. It, uh…it happens. Right? I mean, my masseuse Eva told me it happens to guys all the time.” She rubbed his back some more, stroking his shoulder where the curving black lines of his tattoo seemed to shift and curl under her fingertips and palm, almost like an animal that enjoyed being stroked. “So you’ll be fine, okay?”

  “Yes, I will be fine.” He turned his head to look at her and Charlie was shocked to see the misery and anger on his face. His jaw was clenched and his lips were tight. His eyes were narrow, red slits. It wasn’t the look of a man who’d just been enjoying a relaxing massage—it was more like someone who had just submitted to an invasive procedure they hated with every fiber of their being.

  “Stavros?” she asked hesitantly.

  “I will be fine if you ever…stop…touching me.” His voice was a low, angry growl—the sound of a wounded animal about to bite.

  “Oh.” Charlie pulled her hand away hurriedly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t meant to—”

  “Excuse me.” He rolled over at last and she couldn’t help noticing there was absolutely no sign of an erection. So clearly that wasn’t the problem. So what was the problem? Had she hurt him in some way? But why hadn’t he said so if that was the case?

  What did I do wrong?

  Before she could ask, he was up and off the low table the thera-mat had formed. He didn’t look at her but the set of his shoulders said that something was very, very wrong and Charlie couldn’t imagine what.

  She stared at him with concern. She hadn’t know him that long but in the short period of time they’d been together, he had seemed like a pretty even-tempered guy. Now he was stalking angrily away without waiting for her to follow, his jaw tight and his hands clenched into fists. He had appeared to be so peaceful and relaxed while she was brushing his hair—like a sleepy lion, powerful but content. Now he was poised to strike. What in the world could have brought on this transformation?

  She looked at the shifting lines on his bare back. Could it have to do with the tattoo—the thing he called his mark? He’d said that it was considered bad luck on his home planet—did he think she had somehow brought bad luck on him or herself by touching it?

  There were so many questions swirling through her mind but she didn’t have a chance to ask any of them. Ta’no and Nar’sa were leading the way to their rooms and Stavors was stalking along behind them silently, clearly not in the mood to talk. Charlie hurried to catch up, wondering what in the world she had done wrong and how she could fix it. You better figure something out and quick or the rest of this mission is going to be completely miserable and it didn’t start out that great to begin with! whispered a little voice in her head.

  The long metal corridor that led to their room was painted a soothing blue but somehow Charlie’s nerves refused to be soothed. She still couldn’t figure out what was wrong with her partner. Not that she ought to care—after all, the Kindred were her enemy. After what they had done to Missy… but she didn’t want to think about that. And somehow she couldn’t help caring that Stavros was so clearly angry and upset. Especially since she appeared to be the cause of his bad mood.

  “Here are your rooms.” Nar’sa beckoned them down a short hallway that led off from the main corridor. It dead-ended in a single sliding door panel which was covered in a shifting pattern of every shade of green imaginable. As she had in the cleansing area, the female Hossan instructed first Charlie and then Stavros to press their hands to the lighted panel at the side of the door. Once it was keyed to both their touches, the door slid open…

  And a blast of arctic air blew out, swirling around them.

  “What in the world?” Still wearing her thin, mostly see-through robe, Charlie wrapped her arms around herself and shivered. “What happened here—did somebody forget to turn the heat on?”

  But neither Ta’no or Nar’sa seemed surprised or upset.

  “Ah, good—I see the Wardel keepers have done their job well.” The male Hossan nodded approvingly. “The room is certainly an appropriate temperature.”

  “The what?” Charlie demanded. “What are Wardels and what do they have to do with the room. And how is sub-zero weather in the place we’re supposed to sleep ‘appropriate?’”

  “Wardels are a type of microbe from Gaza Prime that generate cold,” Ta’no explained. “They cling to all available surfaces—they will cling to your hair, skin, and clothing, making you extremely cold.”

  “What? Why?” Charlie shook her head. “Why would you try to turn our room into the freaking North Pole?”

  “The Wardels cling to every available surface but they cannot cling to a combined energy field.” Ta’no seemed completely unfazed by her irritation.

  “A combined energy field? What does that even mean?” Charlie was rapidly becoming exasperated. It had been a long, stressful day in which she’d been forced to walk around mostly naked and eat weird alien balls and do things that made her really uncomfortable. To make matters worse, her partner was pissed off at her for some unknown reason and now she was apparently expected to sleep in the alien equivalent of an ice hotel. She’d had just about enough.

  “A combined energy field is just what it sounds like—you and your mate must touch each other to combine your fields and repel the Wardels,” Nar’sa explained. “The closer you get, the warmer you will be.”

  For the first time, Stavros spoke up.

  “This is ridiculous. If you think you can compel us to touch each other in this way—”

  “We know we can compel you to touch each other this way,” Ta’no said and there was just an edge of steel in his voice. “Otherwise you will surely freeze.”

  “We’ll just go sleep on our ship,” Charlie shot back.

  “I am afraid if you leave your rooms and go back to your ship, you will automatically be exiled from the resort,” Nar’sa said gently. “And as you are already showing considerable progress, I believe that would be a shame. Don’t you?”

  “A tragedy,” Stavros growled. “Come, we might as well go in and see if we can get comfortable for the night.” He spoke to Charlie without looking at her. Then, without waiting for her to follow he stalked into the room, apparently heedless of the chilly air swirling out.

  “Sleep well,” Nar’sa said, smiling. “You may wish to know there is an alarm on your outer door that will let us know if you leave your rooms. And remember…”

  “The closer you and your mate get, the warmer you will be,” Ta’no finished with her.

  Then the Hossans turned as one and left, leaving Charlie standing there, shivering with cold and wondering what in the hell she was going to do.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Eventually, of course, she had to walk inside—what else could she do? Reluctantly, arms wrapped around herself and shivering with cold, she stepped past the sliding green door and into the small apartment she and Stavros had been assigned for their stay.

  It was cozy enough—or would have been except for the arctic weather. There was a tiny living area, just big enough for an oversized loveseat, a postage stamp sized kitchen just big enough to have two cabinets, a counter with some strange alien appliances on it, and a tiny table with two chairs.

  Well at least they don’t expect me to sit on Stavros’s lap while I drink my morning coffee. If there is morning coffee, she thought bleakly. The small kitchen led directly into a short, narrow hallway which ended in another green door. Her partner was just disappearing into it.

  “Hey, wait up.” Charlie ran after him and found herself in a small bedroom which was mostly taken up by a large bed. Other than the bed there wasn’t much furniture except for two of the white pillars like the kind in the changing room outside the cleansing pool. They were positioned on either side of the bed where night tables would normally be. There was a small door in the corner of the room which Charlie assumed led to a bathroom. Stavros was headed there now. “Wait a minute,” she said, before he cou
ld disappear where she couldn’t follow.

  He turned, an extremely unfriendly expression on his face.

  “What?”

  Charlie tried not to recoil from the obvious hostility in his voice.

  “Look,” she said, trying be reasonable. “I think we just need to talk. You seem really upset and—”

  “There is nothing to talk about.” His voice was a menacing growl that said the subject was closed indefinitely.

  “But can’t we just—”

  “No,” he snapped and shut himself into the bathroom—or fresher, as the Kindred called it—before she could even finish.

  “Wow…” Charlie sank down on the edge of the bed and hopped back up again with an exclamation. It was like sitting on a block of ice! It had a nice firm mattress but its surface was so cold.

  Seriously, how was she supposed to deal with this? She couldn’t leave their rooms or the alarm would sound and they would be kicked out of the resort. She couldn’t touch Stavros for warmth, even though that was what they were supposed to do, because he was completely pissed at her for some unknowable reason. And the damn microbes the Hossans had released into the room made every surface she touched ice cold. How was she going to survive the night, let alone the rest of her stay here?

  On impulse she went over to the white pillar on the right side of the bed and put her palm on it. Its surface was ice cold but after a moment, the pillar began to glow softly and a door appeared on its flat side and slid open. Inside the “magic cabinet” as Charlie was beginning to think of it, were a few things she could most definitely use.

  “Good—a toothbrush and toothpaste,” Charlie murmured to herself. “And—is this thing a nightgown?” She drew it out and looked at it critically. It was longer than the robe she wore now and it seemed to be made of some translucent-white fur. What was the deal with this place? Why couldn’t she get a garment with any color or at least one that hid more than it showed?

  She would have been reluctant to trade her robe for the gown but it occurred to her that the see-through fur might be warmer. Then she had an even better idea—she would take off the robe, put on the gown and then put the robe back on over it. That way she could be warm and modest at the same time—that would be nice.

  She cast a quick glance at the bathroom door but she could hear water running inside, clearly indicating Stavros was taking a shower. Probably trying to get some of that massage oil off his back, she thought. With quick, economical motions, she unwrapped the blue sash and parted the robe. Shivering, she laid them carefully over the edge of the open door in the pillar and slipped into the fur nightgown which had been left for her.

  It fit snuggly—a great deal more snuggly than she really liked, hugging her bare breasts and the curves of her hips like a second skin. And her initial assessment that it was as translucent as the robe turned out to be right—she could see everything when she looked down from the tight pink buds of her nipples, peaking in the chilly air, to the blonde curls on her mound and her slit. Also, the fur wasn’t nearly as warm as she had hoped.

  Well, it didn’t matter—she was going to be double covered as soon as she put the robe back on.

  “Yes, sir, nice and toasty warm and not a bit obscene,” Charlie muttered to herself, reaching for the robe. “Just really nice and—”

  She stopped talking as her searching fingers encountered nothing.

  “What that? Wait a minute—where’s my robe?” she demanded, looking at the pillar. The blue sash was still there but the robe was nowhere to be seen. As Charlie watched, the sash was suddenly whisked inside the pillar and then the door snapped shut. So that was what had happened to the robe! The damn pillar had made it disappear like Cinderella’s ball gown on the strike of midnight. Apparently you could only have one garment at a time here. Or else the stupid magic cabinet just wanted to screw with her.

  “Hey, I was still using that!” Charlie protested, slapping her hand against its side. “Give that back—I’m cold and I want to put it back on!”

  But the white pillar remained immutable and silent. Even the dim light which had glowed from its surface when it first opened died out, leaving it cold and white and completely unhelpful.

  “Damnit!” Charlie glared down at herself, thinking that she was in worse shape than ever. The thin nightgown showed everything and didn’t keep her warm at all, despite the feathery fur that covered it. Well, at least now she had a way to brush her teeth.

  There was a tiny sink in the corner opposite the bathroom. She went over and brushed her teeth, noting that the toothpaste tasted and looked exactly like the Crest Ultrabrite she used back home on Earth. Was that a coincidence or had the cleansing pool read and recorded her preferences while she was playing in its clear, turquoise depths?

  Either way, it didn’t really matter. Her teeth were brushed and she was dressed for bed. The thing to do now was to get up the courage to go back to the block of ice that passed for a mattress and try to get comfortable in it.

  She’d been shivering steadily for some minutes now but she knew the bed was going to be harder to get used to than the chilly air. Still, she couldn’t wait forever. She went to the side of the bed, trying to get up her courage. Oh my God, this is going to be so cold… As she stood there, hesitating, the bathroom door slid open and Stavros came out.

  With a little squeak, Charlie dived under the covers. She didn’t really want her partner to see her in the nightgown which was, if anything, more see-through than the novice robe.

  The bed was, as she had expected, a block of ice. The thin, silky sheets which seemed to be made out of the same material as the novice robes, felt as cold as the tomb against her skin. Charlie huddled in the bed miserably as Stavros strode into the room, still dressed in his Pharaoh-skirt and nothing else. His long hair was down and slightly damp. There were also droplets of water on his chest and broad, bare shoulders. The added moisture should have made him even colder but the chilly temperature of the room didn’t seem to bother him at all.

  “There are clothes and other things in the white pillars,” Charlotte volunteered, even though he hadn’t asked or even acknowledged her existence. “Just put your hand—” But Stavros was already placing one broad palm against the side of the left hand pillar and reaching inside for the clothing and toiletries it contained.

  He turned to put his back to her as he changed from the white Pharaoh garment to a pair of white sleep pants. Charlie tried not to look at his muscular ass but it was difficult. It made her remember the obvious effort he had been making at dinner to look only at her face and not her breasts. Were they going to spend the whole time here trying not to ogle each other’s bodies?

  Well, it doesn’t look like it’s a problem anymore—at least not for him. He won’t even make eye contact with me right now.

  Indeed, Stavros was avoiding looking in her direction as he brushed his teeth with something that looked strange and different from and Earth toothbrush. Maybe the magic cabinets gave you whatever you were used to and this was a Kindred tooth-cleaning device, she reflected.

  He moved with apparent ease, not shivering in the slightest even though he was still bare to the waist, ignoring her completely. It was as though she didn’t even exist.

  Charlie just lay there getting colder and colder—her body heat didn’t seem to do a thing to warm the icy sheets she was lying between. Finally she couldn’t stand the heavy silence between them anymore.

  “H-how come you’re n-not cold?” she demanded, frowning at him. “It’s f-freezing in here!”

  “This?” He looked around the room as though assessing the temperature. “This is nothing.”

  “How can you say that?” she demanded. “It’s like a meat locker in here!”

  He shrugged. “I come from Tranq Prime—a world covered in ice and snow. We are used to such temperatures.”

  “Really? I d-didn’t know that.” Charlie tried to keep her teeth from chattering. She was miserably cold and getting colder by th
e minute but at least her partner was speaking to her again. Maybe if she could just keep him talking… “T-tell me more,” she urged, half sitting up in bed to look at him.

  But Stavros shook his head and she could see that the closed expression was still on his face.

  “We are not permitted to speak of the past, remember? Besides, it is time to sleep. Doubtless we’ll have a busy day tomorrow.”

  “But—” Charlie started to protest, but he had already climbed into his side of the bed and turned on his side so that his back was to her.

  “Stavros…” She reached out to him timidly. But the moment her fingertips brushed his shoulder he flinched as though she’d burned him.

  “Don’t touch me,” he growled.

  “Fine, I won’t!” Fed up with his attitude and his refusal to tell her what was wrong, Charlie jumped out of bed, taking the sheets and blankets with her.

  “What in the Seven Hells are you doing?” the big Kindred demanded, turning to face her.

  “I’m going to go sleep on the couch,” she snapped. “And since you’re Mr. “I’m not cold a bit”, I’m taking the blankets with me. So you can lay here on a bare bed and pout for all I care.”

  Stavros looked at her in apparent surprise but before he could reply, she flounced out of the room with the icy sheets and blankets trailing behind her like a long cape. Two could play the cold shoulder game and she was prepared to give every bit as good as she got—especially since both her shoulders were absolutely freezing.

  She got settled on the tiny loveseat, which wasn’t really long enough to stretch out on. Not that she wanted to stretch out—she was too busy curling herself into a ball to try and conserve warmth. Huddled at one end, Charlie attempted to settle down and go to sleep. Sleep, however, was a long time in coming.

  She’d had some cold nights before—living in the foothills of the Blue Ridge, that was a given. She’d even had a couple of times when the power went out in her cabin due to heavy snow and she had been unable to get any heat at all except from her fireplace. Those had been some cold nights. But she’d had her flannel pjs and Granny’s quilt to keep warm. Sitting in front of the fire with a steaming cup of hot coco made using an antique kettle that heated over the flames, she’d been almost cozy once her body heat warmed a little pocket inside the quilt.