Cursed

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Cursed Page 30

by Evangeline Anderson

The whip fell again and this time Charlotte couldn’t help trying to shield herself. The tongues of flame wrapped around her hands, burning both palms before she could pull away.

  “Let that be a lesson,” the male face of the Joined One snapped. “You must not try to impede the punishment.”

  “But at this time we will give you the option to change your mind,” the female face said as Charlotte held her wounded palms to her chest. “Would you rather forego the fire whip and visit the Temple of Regrets instead?”

  Stavros was certain she would say yes—even though he couldn’t feel much, he could tell that the whipping was extremely painful. But Charlotte shook her head.

  “Just…just finish,” she said hoarsely, turning to face the wall again. “Finish and let me go.”

  “Very well, my dear.” The Joined One raised the whip and let it fall again. Again Charlie flinched and gasped. Stavros watched helplessly as the fiery tongues branded her pale skin with bright red marks and curled around her upper thighs like eager lovers hungry for her flesh.

  Tears ran down her face now but she made no sound. Her eyes were shut tight and her wounded hands were fisted on the wall in front of her as she half leaned-half braced against it. The look on her face was sheer, stubborn determination. Clearly she wasn’t going to let the Joined One get the better of her, no matter how many times the whip fell.

  “Let her go—that’s enough! Let her go!” Stavros cried hoarsely. “Goddess damn you—let her go!”

  “Her mate makes a passionate plea, Joined One,” Nar’sa said hesitantly. “Perhaps…the punishment is nearly complete?”

  “Very well.” The Joined One was panting with effort. Slowly it turned towards them and let the whip drop to its side. The long spitting, sizzling tongues hissed angrily against the metal floor. “We suppose that will be sufficient to teach our lesson.”

  As soon as the whipping stopped, Charlotte slid down the wall to huddle in a heap on the floor. Stavros felt like his heart was going to burst if he couldn’t reach her.

  “Let me through—let me through to her!” he demanded.

  Instead, the Joined One reached down and grabbed Charlotte by the upper arm. It dragged her roughly upward and thrust her back through the invisible barrier that separated the outer hallway from the corridor leading to the inner circle.

  Stav barely caught her and as she came through the barrier, he felt the stinging burn of her wounds as he had been unable to before. He cradled her gently in his arms, trying to hold her without hurting her more.

  “You bastards.” He looked at the Joined One with real hatred in his heart. “If you ever—”

  “Save your threats,” the creature said. “Tend to your mate.” It shook the whip once and the tongues of flame disappeared, leaving only the black, stubby handle again. Ye’ha’Na’ho shoved the handle back into its robes, bowed briefly, and strolled off down the hallway as though nothing had happened.

  “Gods!” Stavros lifted Charlotte into his arms as gently as he could but though he tried not to, his arms connected with some of her burns. She jumped and moaned miserably.

  “Well, I am afraid you will be unable to enter the Circle of Oneness today after all,” Ta’no said, eyeing Charlotte with concern. “Perhaps it is best if you take your mate back to your rooms and tend her. We can try again tomorrow.”

  “The hell we will,” Stavros snarled. “I’m taking her home now. You and all the rest of the freakish bastards who live here can all go straight to—”

  “No…” To his surprise, Charlotte was plucking at his arm and shaking her head.

  “What?” Stavros looked down at her, certain she must be delirious with pain. Even though he was taking as much as he could from her, the stinging, burning he felt was obviously just a drop in the bucket.

  “No. Don’t want…to leave,” she whispered. “Stay.” Her eyes got wider. “Have to…stay. Earth…”

  She’s still thinking of her home planet—of saving it from the Dark Kindred, Stavros realized.

  “All right.” He nodded his head stiffly. “We will stay.”

  “I am glad to hear you say that,” Nar’sa said, smiling gently. “I know the punishment seems harsh but the Joined Ones are always just in their ways. They have reasons for what they do.”

  Knowing that Charlotte wanted to stay, Stav kept his mouth shut about how he felt about their “reasons” and simply nodded again.

  “Do not be discouraged, Stavros,” Ta’no said to him. “You and your mate may yet reach the Circle of Oneness. But for tonight, simply stay in your rooms and help her heal. There should be some sifra ointment in your cabinet when you return. If you apply it at once, it should ease her pain and prevent any permanent scarring.”

  Stavros opened his mouth to say he needed none of their ointment—he could heal Charlotte himself…then he closed it again. Knowing how she felt about him now, there was no way she would allow him to heal her with his essence. She wouldn’t want him licking her to apply it topically and she certainly wouldn’t want to let him bite her and inject it into her bloodstream to heal her from the inside out. It looked like he would be using the sifra ointment, whatever it was, after all.

  “Thank you,” he said briefly. “We will see you later.”

  “At first meal, perhaps,” Nar’sa said. “In the meantime, we will see that something is sent to you for last meal tonight. You are excused from the dining area since your mate is wounded.”

  “While you are making accommodations for Charlotte’s wounds, perhaps you might make our rooms a bit warmer,” Stav said acidly. “She nearly froze the first night and last night was bad as well.”

  “Of course,” Ta’no said. “I think you are past needing the Wardels. I will notify the keepers to let them disperse from your rooms though it may take some time.”

  “We should take the alarm off their door as well,” Nar’sa remarked. “Clearly they are past the stage where they need to be kept forcibly together.”

  “True.” Ta’no nodded. “It shall be done.”

  “Thank you,” Stav said stiffly. “And now, I must go tend to my female.”

  He knew that Charlotte wanted to stay despite her wound and the cruel punishments of the Joined One. He knew it and deep down, he agreed with her—they couldn’t leave. Not when they were so close to getting what they had come for. But that didn’t make it any easier to turn down the corridor leading to their rooms instead of heading for the docking bay where their ship was parked.

  He was fuming with anger and overcome with worry for her. She might hate him and everything to do with him but he still cared for her—cared desperately. And the fact that he had been unable to protect her from danger and keep her from harm ate at him as he carried her silently to their rooms.

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Charlie was having an awful dream—something about sitting on a hot stove.

  “Ow!” she gasped, looking down to see the red hot surface under her bare bottom. But when she tried to get up, she couldn’t—she was stuck as though held down by some huge, invisible hand. The stove was scorching her flesh—not just the flesh of her bottom but of her inner thighs and between her legs as well. It hurt so much she couldn’t stand it! She pushed down against the stove, trying to get free and burned her palms too.

  “Let me up,” she pleaded with the owner of the hand. “Please let me go—it burns!”

  “I know it burns, falina,” a deep voice murmured softly. “Just be still—it will hurt less presently.”

  Charlie opened her mouth to say she couldn’t stand it anymore and she couldn’t be still…but just then something cool and soothing was spread over her burning bottom.

  She sighed with relief as the red hot stove melted away to be replaced by the cool tingling that continued to spread over the areas of pain and take the burning away. Well, most of the areas, anyway—her hands were still burning and so were her inner thighs and the area between her legs.

  “Please,” she whispered to
the owner of the voice. “My hands…and inside my thighs…”

  The surface she was lying on—because now for some reason she was lying flat on her face—shifted restively.

  “Your hands I can help. I do not know about the…other areas.”

  “Why not?” Charlie begged as the soothing cream was spread over the palms of her hands. She sighed in relief as the cool tingling eased the pain in her palms and fingers. Her bottom and hands felt better now—much better. But the pain between her thighs seemed almost to increase in contrast. “Please,” she begged. “It hurts.”

  “I know but I do not think it is a place you want me touching you right now. Not after…what happened last night,” the low, rumbling, somehow familiar voice said.

  “After what…” Charlie came fully awake at last. Opening her eyes, she found that she was lying face down, draped over Stavros’s lap. Not only that but her robe was raised and the big Kindred was rubbing some kind of ointment all over her bare ass.

  “Charlotte? Are you well?” He looked down at her anxiously.

  “Get away from me!” She tried to scramble off his lap and had to stop when a bolt of pain shot through her. “Ouch!”

  “Stay put—you’re not fully healed yet,” he said, frowning.

  “What—stay here half naked so you can keep molesting me?” Charlie demanded. “I don’t think so.”

  “I wasn’t ‘molesting’ you, I was trying to heal you. Your pain was awful—I felt it,” he said, frowning. “You fainted from the agony of the whipping you took. The sifra ointment Ta’no recommended was in my cabinet and so I decided to use it on you. I was hoping to heal you before you woke up.”

  “So I wouldn’t know what you were doing, no doubt” Charlie knew she sounded accusatory but she wasn’t happy about waking up on his lap with him rubbing her bare ass after she’d told him not to touch her again.

  “No, so I could spare you pain.” He leaned down to look at her. “Do you think I wanted to use this stuff to heal you?” He held the tube of pale pink ointment in front of her face. “A Blood Kindred does not need such things. By rights I should have used my essence.”

  “What…by biting me again?” Charlie felt a shiver go through her at the memory of the multiple orgasms his essence had caused in her the night before. She couldn’t let him do that again—she couldn’t.

  “Or by licking you,” he murmured, his eyes glinting in the dim golden glow that suffused the living area. “I could have healed you more completely and painlessly as any ointment—but I did not wish for you to wake and find me doing so. I knew you would misconstrue my intentions.”

  “Well you thought right,” Charlie snapped, trying not to think of him licking between her thighs where the burning was worst. “But this isn’t much better. Why didn’t you just wait until I woke up and let me use the ointment on myself?”

  “Read the directions,” Stavros said patiently. “Like everything else in this place, the ointment only works if applied by your mate’s hand.”

  “That’s what they say anyway,” Charlie muttered. “Here, let me see it.” She took the ointment and stared at it until the alien letters made sense to her brain. Thank goodness for translation bacteria!

  Ointment of Sifra, read the small letters. Effective only if applied by the beloved’s hand. Warning: if…

  There was more in smaller print under that but Charlie didn’t have the time or the patience to read it.

  “Lover’s hand my ass,” she muttered.

  “That is, in fact, exactly where I have been applying it,” Stavros remarked mildly.

  “Very funny.” Her inner thighs were burning where the whip had licked her and so were some other…unmentionable areas. The pain was only getting worse the longer she lay there. Time to do something about it.

  Despite the pain, Charlie somehow managed to lever herself out of the big Kindred’s lap. Stavros simply sat here while she did, obviously knowing she wouldn’t accept his assistance.

  “I do not think you want to try using it yourself,” was all he said as she struggled to get off the couch.

  “Thanks but I think I can manage,” Charlie said flatly. Eventually she was upright—a position which made her bit her lip with agony as her thighs rubbing together made the burns worse—much worse. Somehow, though, she managed to get herself to the bathroom with the ointment in hand.

  As soon as she was inside with the door shut and locked, she pulled up her robes, got a handful of the pink ointment, and began rubbing it gingerly over her inner thighs and the other affected areas. As the cool tingling began to spread, she moaned in relief and sank down to sit on the edge of the large circular bathtub.

  Her relief lasted exactly thirty seconds and then the pain came back—twice as bad as before.

  “What the hell…?” At first Charlie thought she must be imagining it. But no, the burning was definitely back and growing worse by the second. It grew and grew until it felt like someone was holding a hot curling iron between her legs.

  “Ow! Oh my God, that’s horrible!” she gasped. She stripped off her robe and stepped into the bathtub, splashing cold water over her burning inner thighs. Soon the pink ointment was all washed away—but it didn’t help.

  Charlie blotted the affected area carefully with a towel while she clenched her jaw to keep from cursing with pain. What the hell was wrong? Had she used the ointment incorrectly? Well, obviously she had—she’d put it on herself instead of letting Stavros do it. But she didn’t remember reading anything about it making the pain worse if you tried to do it yourself. Then again, she hadn’t really read past the first sentence on the back of the tube.

  Grabbing it again, she tried to concentrate on the instructions, reading through eyes that were tearing with pain.

  Ointment of Sifra. Effective only if applied by the beloved’s hand. Warning: if applied any other way, burning will result. Only reapplication by the beloved will ease this symptom. In extreme cases…

  But Charlie couldn’t read anymore. Wrapping herself in a towel, she flung open the bathroom door to find Stavros standing there silently.

  “Did you know about this…this side effect?” She thrust the bottle at him.

  “I did. I tried to warn you. You wouldn’t listen.”

  “You just said I shouldn’t use it myself—not that it would make me feel like someone lit a fire between my legs if I did!” Charlie accused him.

  He frowned. “Is that where you are hurting? I thought the whip fell only on your bottom and the tops of your thighs.”

  “I…” Charlie felt her face flood with heat. “It didn’t just…”

  “Never mind. Come to the bed—you can tell me where to apply the ointment there.”

  Though it grated on her nerves, Charlie had no choice. She hobbled to the bed and collapsed onto it face first, feeling like an idiot and a freak.

  “Good.” Stavros came and sat beside her. He took the ointment and squeezed some into his hand. “Now tell me where it hurts.”

  “I…” Charlie bit her lip. God, this was so embarrassing. She’s just told him last night she wanted nothing to do with him, that she never wanted his hands on her again. And now, not even twenty-four hours later, she had to beg him to rub her most intimate areas with the pink ointment to make this awful burning stop.

  “Does it hurt here?” Stavros’s big hand moved under the towel and between her legs, spreading the pink ointment carefully over the skin of her inner thighs.

  “Yes.” Charlie sighed with relief as the burning began to ease and yet…though she felt the cool, tingling sensation it didn’t completely take the pain away as it had before. Or rather, the pain changed in some way to something no less intense just…different.

  Well, it probably still feels weird because there are other areas that are hurting, she told herself. Areas she was going to have to tell Stavros about if she wanted relief. But God, she so didn’t want to tell him! Maybe I can just tough it out…maybe it’ll go away on its own eventuall
y…

  “Charlotte?” He was watching her closely and frowning. “Are you well now?”

  “Just fine,” she lied through gritted teeth. “Just…fine.”

  He frowned. “I wish you would not lie to me. You know I can feel your pain and if what I am feeling is correct, the whip hit you much higher than I originally thought.”

  Charlie clenched her fists—well at least her hands were healed—and bit her lip until it almost bled. Damn it, she didn’t want to tell him, didn’t want to ask for his help…

  “Charlie…” His use of her nickname made her look up. He had a look in his eyes that was half sorrow, half compassion. “Why are you so stubborn?” he asked softly. “Why is it so hard for you to ask for what you need?”

  “You know why.” The burning was getting worse and she pressed her legs together tightly, as if she could put out the invisible flames that seemed to be eating at her. It only made the situation worse and she couldn’t suppress a yelp as she parted her legs quickly.

  “All right.” Stavros sighed. “You don’t have to say it if it makes you uncomfortable. I think I can tell where your pain is.”

  “Oh you can, can you?” Charlie asked in a choked voice. God, she was dying here.

  He nodded. “If you’ll give me permission, I will spread the ointment where it needs to go. Only that and nothing more, I promise.”

  Though it killed her to do it, Charlie really had no choice. With a brief jerk of her head, she nodded her agreement. Then she buried her face in her arms and opened her thighs a bit more. There was nothing else she could do.

  She felt the blunt tips of his fingers a moment later, spreading the soothing ointment gently over the outer lips of her pussy. The cool tingling nearly took her breath away. As the awful pain at last began to fade, she felt herself beginning to relax. Stavros was being careful to only spread the ointment to areas he thought might be in pain so he didn’t touch inside her—a fact that gave her mingled feelings or relief and regret.

  At last he pulled his hand out from under her towel.

  “Better?”

 

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