Lauren stared back with a frozen smile, trying to prod something from her brain by way of ‘innocent’ explanation. Nothing immediately presented itself.
The woman shivered.
It was an all over shudder that alerted Lauren to the fact that she’d frozen when she’d spotted the woman.
Frowning uneasily, she broke eye contact and oh-so-casually returned her kit to its place in her bag.
“I was sent to show you where you are allowed to move freely and where you are not allowed at all.”
The woman’s voice wasn’t neutral as she delivered her explanation for her appearance. It was threaded liberally with suspicion and resentment.
Straightening, Lauren nodded, struggling to tamp her natural reaction to the negative vibes she sensed. “Thank you!” she said, smiling with an effort.
The woman merely stared. “I was sent,” she repeated, making it clear that she wouldn’t otherwise have extended even a semblance of friendliness.
“Alrighty then,” Lauren muttered in her own tongue, wondering if the emotions she sensed were due entirely to the fact that she was an outsider or if there was something more personal to account for it.
People stopped and stared as they made their way along that floor to a stairway that led upward and Lauren began almost immediately to regret that she’d decided to wear the hab suit, wondering if she could’ve blended in any better by wearing her ‘street’ clothing.
Maybe.
The female towered over her—must have been close to Rama in height. Something duller in color might at least have made her harder to spot, though.
She shook the thought, focused on taking mental notes of the castle since her guide didn’t seem inclined to chat.
They arrived via a narrow winding stair at the castle ramparts. Lauren’s first thought was that it would be a perfect place to launch the micro-drones she’d brought with her to carry back the samples, but then she noticed that it was under guard. There was a pair on each wall so that every direction was under watch and there were a round dozen other warriors either waiting for an exchange or there to be ready if there was any sort of attack.
It seemed excessive to have so many on alert.
But then it occurred to Lauren that she’d been delivered by a drone, which had flown over them.
It seemed indisputable that Rama was on high alert.
He wasn’t convinced that she was there as a friendly gesture.
And there were far too many guards around for her to have any chance of attempting to send a drone with the samples and a warning, or trying to contact the command center via her com unit.
The faux balcony outside the window came to mind, but she still didn’t know whether or not she’d be able to access it since she hadn’t managed to get the window open.
They didn’t linger long.
Lauren had the feeling that the main reason she’d been taken there was so that she could see that the Proushtans were braced for treachery.
The woman headed directly toward the main stairs when they’d reached the floor below. Lauren discovered then that a good many of the castle folk were still gathered to break their fast. The smell of food instantly set up a clamor in her stomach for sustenance, reminding her that she’d lost her supper the night before. So, despite the woman’s sour attitude, Lauren was grateful when she was led to a table and a server slammed a plate laden with food and a goblet filled with liquid down in front of her.
The bread was hot, yeasty and slathered with butter. Lauren had a mouthgasm the minute she bit into it.
The ‘liquid’ was another matter. She’d thought it must be water and nearly choked to death when she discovered some sort of bitter brew instead when she took a large gulp.
She managed to get it down, but her eyes watered and she had to subdue a coughing spasm.
When she managed to blink back her tears, she discovered Rama had settled beside her and was regarding her with patent amusement.
“I thought you might need the grog to settle your stomach after the bout last night.”
Lauren blinked at him, struggling with embarrassment at the reminder and annoyance at his efforts to ‘doctor’ her. “How … thoughtful!” she said as evenly as she could.
He chuckled, to her surprise. “Which, I take it, is your way of saying it was not thoughtful at all to your mind.”
At least he didn’t seem to take it badly. “No. I appreciate the effort of kindness.”
He nodded. “Misplaced, apparently.”
“I expected water,” she said a little testily.
He grinned at her. “And your expectations are my flaw?”
She stared at him. “I’m not really a morning person,” she said somewhat apologetically. “Could we spar later?”
He laughed outright at that. “I suppose that would only be fair, but I fear I am at a disadvantage with you and must take whatever advantage comes my way.”
She studied his handsome face. “I’m not buying. I don’t believe you have any disadvantages of any kind and what’s more, I’m convinced you’re well aware of it.”
His complexion darkened, but she didn’t see anything that suggested it was due to anger. “Now I am left wondering if that was a subtle compliment or a subtle insult.”
It was Lauren’s turn to chuckle. Brains, beauty, and brawn? That was soooo unfair—especially on top of being king—which added wealth and power. “Fishing?”
He eyed her pensively. “If I was, could I then be certain that you were being completely honest in your opinion?”
She searched his eyes. For a split second, no more than a heartbeat, she thought she saw remnants of the young boy prince who’d lost everything, but then that trace of vulnerability vanished so quickly she had to wonder if it was nothing more than her imagination.
If it was willful self-deception, then it was seriously perilous.
Because this was an incredibly dangerous male animal.
She forced a smile. “I think you’ve probably guessed my honest opinion already—and that it would be hazardous for me to voice it.”
His gaze wandered over her face almost caressingly. “You think there would be danger in a mutual … admiration?”
She swallowed with an effort, realizing with a touch of panic that she could fall under this man’s spell all too easily—and disastrously. “For you … no. For me … probably.”
* * * *
Lauren was both relieved and disappointed when Rama looked around and spotted her earlier companion. With a crook of one finger, he summoned the woman, told her to show Lauren around the keep and then departed.
The moment Rama turned his back to leave, the woman bristled, narrowing hate filled eyes on Lauren.
Now Lauren completely understood the resentment—she thought.
This female had a thing for her king that was completely personal and she didn’t appreciate the possibility that Lauren might be competition for his ‘affection’.
Lauren could almost pity her.
She wasn’t ugly or old by any stretch of the imagination. In fact, she had a face and figure Lauren was sure would be widely appreciated by the male of the species.
But she was just as clearly of the lowest class and if Lauren recalled her study correctly, that meant that she couldn’t expect more than to warm the king’s bed when he was bored with higher class ‘meat’.
She wasn’t even high enough in class to become a mistress.
“He only desires you because you are forbidden to him,” the woman hissed just loud enough for Lauren to hear as they left the castle to explore the keep as the King had ordered.
Lauren felt her face heat. She struggled for something to say that wouldn’t escalate the brooding anger of the other woman. “I’m sure he’s just being a good host,” Lauren responded after a prolonged search for something inoffensive.
The woman sneered at her. “You are no fool. And neither am I. I see the way he looks at you. And you are a Di-ore. Do not try to
tell me you are not accustomed to admiration in a man’s eyes.”
Lauren felt her color fluctuate three times while she digested what the woman had said. Trepidation dominated the emotions that rushed through her, but she also couldn’t deny that she was intrigued and flattered.
And crazy to feel either of the last two.
Like a moth to the flame, she thought wryly.
She’d never known of this side to herself.
She’d always tended to be boringly predictable—not excitable—at least not by men. She’d run across a few things in test tubes that had really gotten the blood pumping, but men barely stirred her curiosity in a general way.
“It is a matter of indifference to me even if you have interest in attaching his affections. You will not be here long enough and you may be sure that I will manage to send word to your master if you decide to toss your skirts up for him.”
Lauren stopped abruptly and stared at the woman.
It was an idle threat, she knew. The woman would have no way to contact anyone in the colony. And, of course, she had no master.
But it was the fact that the woman threatened her that sent a shiver through her.
These were barbarians, she reminded herself abruptly. Rama was king now because they were, because they’d assassinated his father when he was little more than a child.
She couldn’t simply trust that the woman wouldn’t slip a knife between her ribs at the first opportunity!
Of course she’d play hell doing so while Lauren was wearing her hab suit. It was lined with Kevlar. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t slit her throat or crush her skull! Or poison her!
But would it do any good to try to reassure the woman that she had no designs on being her rival?
Lauren was angry because the woman scared her, but backing down and trying to placate the bitch wouldn’t work on a bully—even an alien one. “You may know the king very well. But you don’t know me, so don’t presume that I’m anxious to spread my legs for him! You are welcome if you’re so hot to let him use you.”
It was the shadow that fell across them both that jolted them out of the quarrel they’d become engrossed in.
Not that Lauren had been so engrossed that she hadn’t realized that they’d drawn attention. She knew they had, but neither of them had raised their voices.
She supposed, though, that their body language had been enough to alert bystanders to the hostility brewing.
She didn’t know the man standing over the two of them, but it was clear that the woman did and it wasn’t someone she was inclined to dismiss. She turned pale and fell back a step.
“The lord is not going to appreciate you two whores fighting in the keep,” he growled. “Especially with the lady, Princess Althea, due to arrive in less than a septum nortin! She certainly will not be pleased to arrive for a possible mating bond to find the lord’s whores scrapping in the courtyard! Move along with you before I beat the both of you senseless!”
Lauren gaped at him in dawning outrage, but the woman who’d started the argument took off like he’d poked her in the ass.
It was just as well that she was shocked to speechlessness. Otherwise, her tongue might have gotten her killed—or beat silly at the very least.
She felt cold all over when her brain functions returned to normal and she was able to appreciate how close she’d come to airing her outrage over being dismissed as a piece of tail up for grabs by all and sundry when she happened to be damned particular!
Thankful when he’d left, Lauren composed herself and headed back inside, all desire for an extensive tour of the place having completely deserted her.
In any case, there was really no point in wandering about the place without a collection kit.
She retrieved the one she’d managed to fill, very carefully placed the vials into a micro-drone, and checked the settings before she tucked it into one of the pockets on her suit.
She moved to the window then, slipped behind the heavy drapes, and studied the ‘balcony’ she’d spotted before.
Upon closer examination, she thought that it wasn’t something that had been added strictly for embellishment. The drop from the window seemed to be sufficient to discourage anyone with any sense at all from trying to use it to get into or out of the castle, but she decided that the faux balcony was actually something put there to prevent access or egress from the window.
That was actually a relief if true because it should mean that the piece wouldn’t just fall off if she tried to stand on it.
The question was, could she find a way to get the window open without breaking it?
She’d been working her way around the bottom half for over ten minutes before she found the hidden latch. When depressed, the lower portion swung open with amazing ease.
She closed it again, satisfied, considering.
It was broad daylight and even though this window didn’t face the keep, in fact faced a portion of the mountain that looked completely impassible, she was afraid that someone might see and report what they’d seen.
On the other hand, her damned player was broken and if she didn’t do something soon she was facing another night’s entertainment without any sort of help.
That thought clinched the matter.
She needed a replacement stat!
Chapter Six
“Who contributed the hair? Or do you know?”
The voice was as clear as bell now that she was standing on a death defying ledge that looked to be a minimum of fifty feet from jagged rock.
“Affirmative. At least, I’m almost a hundred percent certain the hair belongs to Rama—uh—King Rama.”
Excitement threaded the voice that responded over her com unit—a different voice this time. It was the head of the task force trying to come up with something to fight the virus. “This is Dr. Lang. We’ve found traces of what we believe to be the killer. Can you get us a larger sample? Semen would be excellent.”
A jolt went through Lauren.
It wasn’t the first time this had been suggested—having sex to collect a quantity of specimen that might be sufficient to generate a treatment or cure—but it was the first time it had been directed specifically at her.
The suggestion was sufficient to suck all of the air out of her lungs as if she’d been punched in the solar plexus.
It made her blush.
But that flag of discomfort didn’t generate all of the heat that she felt flood through her.
It was the image of Rama the suggestion called to mind that produced most of the heat.
Unfortunately, her mind leapt almost immediately to the fact that she’d already been called a whore by two of the residents which, to her mind, meant that most likely every damned body believed that was what she was—the king’s latest whore.
‘Might as well’ flickered through her mind, but she dismissed that. It might or might not be true that everyone thought she was, but she knew she wasn’t. And that was just as important, or maybe more important, to her self-esteem.
But what about all of the sick and dying?
She was willing to risk her life to try to help, but not willing to have sex? Was that even logical when she was facing a life or death situation?
Forget the selfless act! She was liable to be next on that bug’s hit list!
Surely this should fall under survival acts—which no one was inclined to moralize over if it was their life at stake?
She wasn’t sure, but the thoughts made her realize that her main reluctance had nothing to do with logic at all.
It was about the survival instincts.
She was attracted to Rama. It wasn’t revulsion holding her back or that made her reluctant. It was the fact that she was more attracted to him than she thought was good for her.
She was fairly certain that she couldn’t cold-bloodedly ‘extract’ semen from him and leave untouched.
“I … uh … don’t know. He has a … uh … woman. And she’s pretty damned possessive. And
besides that, I was told a marriage has been arranged and the bride is due to arrive any day.”
“That’s … disappointing news,” Dr. Lang responded. “Maybe one of the others …. Well, keep trying. Maybe you’ll find another donor.”
He disconnected before Lauren had the chance to demand to know what the hell he meant by that.
The fact was, she knew what he meant.
If she couldn’t get Rama’s semen, she needed to find someone else who’d survived the disease and have sex with them.
It would’ve been way easier if they could’ve just drawn blood, but she wasn’t going to get that unless she killed one of them and stole it.
The semen was something the men would be happy to donate.
She wasn’t certain she could stomach collecting it, though, and beyond that, she might not survive a collection attempt.
Rama struck her as seriously dangerous, but he seemed to control his temper very well, and he was noticeably more civilized in many ways than the lower class and the warrior class.
The creep who’d called her a whore, for instance.
He’d threatened physical violence and she didn’t think that was an idle threat—more because of the tamped rage of his body language, she thought, than what he’d said.
He didn’t seem to be one of the soldiers of the keep. He was dressed better than the servants she’d seen, but his clothing hadn’t seemed nearly as fine as Rama’s.
And yet he’d seemed very well informed about the king’s business.
Not that she could see trying to tempt that bastard!
But if he was representative of the other men in the keep she couldn’t see trying to tempt one of them to give her a semen deposit.
The conversation inspired her to try harder to find something they could work with, though.
As soon as she’d climbed back inside and secured the window, she headed to her bag to grab a collection kit.
The older woman she’d decided was a cleaning maid was standing in the doorway of the bath, staring at her, when she straightened and turned.
It instantly leapt into Lauren’s mind that the woman might have seen her coming from the window.
The Nine Realms of the Uti I: Warrior Prince Page 5
