Hunted

by Evangeline Anderson

  “If he’s calling you Talana then he still wants you.” Nadiah was already playing with her hair, trying new styles in the 3-D viewer. “Trust me on that, Sophia.”

  Sophie hoped that she was right. Talking about Sylvan and her problems with him had made things clear in a way they hadn’t been before. And what was clearer than anything else, was that she wanted him—really wanted him—fangs and all. I’m not going to hand him to Feenah on a silver platter just because I’m afraid of a few little bites, she told herself firmly. I just hope it’s not too late…

  The dance was being held in the main grotto down among the silvery-white trees Sophie had seen the first time she’d passed through it. She wondered if they were the Snowdrop trees Sylvan had talked about and decided they must be. Their leaves were thin and spidery and delicate—almost like palm sized snowflakes—on the ends of the pale, glimmering branches. The snowflake leaves were pure white with just a tracery of pale blue along their edges, making them look ethereal and lovely and setting the scene for a magical dance.

  But the scenery wasn’t on Sophie’s mind as she stepped under the farthest tree and studied the dancers. She scanned the crowd of couples dancing and winced when she saw Magistrate Licklow dancing with a tall, thin woman who was probably his wife. She wished desperately that she hadn’t made a fool of herself quite so recently in front of all these people. But that’s in the past now, she told herself, lifting her chin. And anyway, once we leave here I’ll never have to see them again. So who cares what they think?

  Still, she had always been shy and it took an enormous effort not to just turn tail and run away before everyone at the dance noticed the “crazy” off-worlder and started talking. She might have lost her nerve completely if it hadn’t been for Nadiah standing behind her.

  “Go on,” she hissed, poking Sophie in the back. “You look fabulous. Get out there.”

  Sophie hoped she was right. She was wearing one of Nadiah’s few non-living outfits and it was a little too tight for her taste. Still, she had to admit that it looked nice and draped well. It was a long red leather dress which came down to her ankles. Nadiah had told her was made from tanned, dyed vranna hide. The dress had a deep V neck which was trimmed in short, black fur and high, off the shoulder sleeves. A deep split up one thigh was also trimmed in fur and showed a lot of leg—or would have if she hadn’t been wearing a pair of high black boots with a wedge-type heel.

  The leather dress and boots made Sophie feel like she was dressed for a Wild West fashion show, but at least she didn’t have to worry about her outfit tickling or itching her…or deserting her at an inopportune moment. So it was with a fair amount of confidence that she stepped out from under her tree and walked toward Sylvan.

  He was dancing with Feenah but it was impossible to tell if he was happy about it or not. His face was completely impassive as he performed the elaborate steps to the slow, steady beat of the stately music. It was kind of like a waltz with a very slow techno beat in the background—bizarre but somehow catchy.

  What if he wants her now instead of me? What if he hates me for saying all those awful things about his planet? Sophie squeezed her hands into fists nervously. She could feel her heart beating in every part of her body at once and, even more strangely, it felt as though the blood in her veins was running hot. Which was completely ridiculous, of course—her blood was the same temperature as the rest of her body. What she was feeling was no doubt a bad case of the nerves and that was all. But it was never going to get better if she didn’t do something about it.

  Sophie took a deep breath. Here goes.

  Walking up to Feenah—who had eyes only for Sylvan—she reached up and tapped the taller woman on the shoulder.

  “What?” Feenah looked around in obvious irritation and her eyes widened when they finally settled on Sophie. “Oh look, Sylvan, your little pet is here.”

  “Sophia?” They stopped dancing and Sylvan gave her a worried look.

  “Hi.” Sophie smiled at him. “I’m, uh, feeling better.”

  He smiled back. “I’m glad to hear it.”

  Feenah’s eyes flashed but her voice was as sweet as ever. “Whatever can the poor little thing want? I thought you’d put her to bed for the night?”

  Sophie raised an eyebrow. “What I want is for you to stop talking about me like I’m some lower life form. I’m not Sylvan’s pet, I’m…well, anyway, I care for him. Deeply.”

  “How sweet. Of course you do.” Feenah gave her a patronizing smile. “And you can tell him all about it once the dance is over. But right now we’re a little busy, so if you’d excuse us—” She put her hands on Sylvan’s shoulders again but Sophie was determined—she wasn’t about to be pushed aside.

  “I don’t think so.” She stepped closer so that she was almost between Feenah and Sylvan. “I’m cutting in.”

  Feenah gave her a look of wide-eyed surprise. “You can’t mean you want to dance with my Sylvan? I’m afraid you’ll embarrass yourself, sweetie—and haven’t you had enough of that already tonight?” She gave Sophie a sweetly sympathetic look that was obviously fake.

  “He is not your Sylvan,” Sophie said with as much dignity as she could muster. “And yes, I want to dance with him.”

  Feenah clearly wasn’t going anywhere. “Why don’t you watch and see what you can learn for the next dance? After all, you don’t even know the steps.”

  “Then I’ll teach her.” Stepping away from Feenah’s grip on his shoulders, Sylvan offered Sophie his hand. “Would you care to dance?”

  “Yes.” She smiled at him gratefully. “Yes, I really would.”

  Feenah’s smile was slipping but she still tried to keep her voice light. “It’s all well and good for you to want to teach her about our customs, Sylvan, but you know it’s against tradition to change partners in the middle of a dance.”

  Sylvan shrugged. “I guess I’ll be breaking tradition then.” He nodded at Feenah. “It’s been nice seeing you again after all this time, Feenah but I have to see to Sophia. She is my first and most important priority.”

  “Is that so?” Feenah’s smile was entirely gone now, replaced by a spiteful look that reminded Sophie very much of Lady Whitethorn, her mother. “Well then, I hope you enjoy your dance,” she said, glaring at Sophie but speaking to Sylvan. “That is, unless your little pet has another fit and starts going crazy again.”

  Sylvan frowned at her, his ice blue eyes narrowing. “Be careful of what you say, Feenah. Sophia is the female I love. If you were a male I would have to challenge you for talking about her in that manner.”

  Sophie’s heart gave a thump and it was all she could do not to stick out her tongue at the other woman. It was a childish impulse, of course, but then, Feenah had been treating her like a child or a pet from the minute she’d met her. Would it really be so bad to at least say Nyah, nyah, nyah, he’s mine, not yours? Probably so, she decided reluctantly. But she couldn’t resist giving the fuming Feenah a little smirk as Sylvan took her in his arms and led her into the dance.

  Me, he picked me! her heart sang as he held her close. It was true that she had no idea of the steps but Sylvan was a surprisingly graceful dancer for such a large male and he seemed to have a way of putting her exactly where she needed to be at any given time. Sophie relaxed in his arms, letting him lead, and everything was perfect.

  “That was wonderful,” she said as he held her close. The music was slow enough that she could talk to him comfortably as they danced. “Thank you for being so sweet, even after all the terrible things I said.”

  Sylvan smiled down at her. “You were upset and I was the cause of it. What did you say that I didn’t deserve?”

  “Still, I shouldn’t have decided that I hated your whole planet on the basis of a few bad experiences. After all, I’m sure Earth seemed weird to you the first time you visited it as well.”

  “It was…different,” Sylvan admitted. “I came mostly to try and keep Baird in line. He was about to claim Olivia a
nd he was very much on the edge. I didn’t understand that kind of emotion then.”

  “And now you do?” Sophie asked softly.

  He nodded. “Now I do. I didn’t think I could be affected the way other males are by the urge to claim a bride. But you proved me wrong.”

  Sophie bit her lip. “I’m sorry.”

  Sylvan smiled again. “I’m not. I’m indebted to you for showing me how much I could feel. When I think that I almost mated Feenah…” He shook his head.

  “She’s very beautiful,” Sophie said generously.

  “As well as vapid, shallow, and spiteful.” Sylvan shook his head. “I would have been frozen all my life. She didn’t have the necessary emotion to thaw my heart. Only you do, Sophia.”

  “Sylvan,” she murmured, looking up at him. “I—” Suddenly the world spun in a dizzy arc around her head and she felt herself falling.

  * * * * *

  “Are you all right?” Sylvan scooped her up and carried her quickly away from the dancing couples.

  Sophia had her eyes tightly shut and she clung to him as if she was drowning. Seriously concerned, Sylvan took her to the edge of the snowdrop grove and settled under one of the trees with her on his lap. “Sophia?” he murmured, stroking her cheek.

  She opened her eyes and rubbed her forehead. “I’m okay,” she said, trying to sit up. “It was just the dancing—it made me dizzy.”

  “We weren’t spinning or doing any sudden moves,” Sylvan pointed out, still looking at her anxiously. “Were you feeling faint earlier? Is there anything else wrong?”

  “Poor Sylvan.” She laughed. “Between the tharp and everything else I’ve nearly given you a heart attack several times tonight. But I feel fine, honestly.” She frowned. “Well, except for…”

  “Except for what?” he demanded.

  “It’s nothing.” She waved dismissively and started to get to her feet. “Come on, let’s dance some more. I was really enjoying myself for the first time since you brought me here.”

  “Sophia, please…” Sylvan reached for her hand and tugged her back down. “No matter how small your symptoms, I want to know about them. Tell me, please.”

  “It’s nothing,” she said, sinking back down on the bluish-green moss. “Probably just my nerves but well, I feel like…my blood feels hot. Like it’s warmer than the rest of my body.” She laughed nervously. “Isn’t that silly?”

  Sylvan felt his heart drop. It couldn’t be! And yet…“How long have you been feeling like this?” he said urgently. “Try and remember, Sophia, it may be vitally important.”

  “Only since just before I came up to you and Feenah. I thought it was because I was nervous about, you know, confronting her and cutting in.”

  Sylvan shook his head. “I don’t think so. Have you had any chills?”

  “No. I—wait. I was shivering after you left me back in the, uh, domicile. But then MM2 draped itself over my shoulders and I warmed right up.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “MM2?”

  “My tharp.” Sophie shrugged, looking embarrassed. “I know it sounds strange but I figured if I have to keep it, I might as well give it a name. And you know, I think it’s sorry for what it did. I don’t think it’s bad so much as just mischievous.”

  Sylvan almost smiled. Leave it to Sophia to make a pet out of what was supposed to be a strictly functional domesticated animal. “All right, leaving the subject of how odd it is to name a tharp, let’s get back to your symptoms. So you had chills and then you started to feel like your blood was running hot in your veins?”

  “That’s it exactly—that’s the feeling,” Sophie exclaimed. “Why, is it some kind of a Tranq Prime thing?”

  Sylvan shook his head grimly. I hope not. Oh gods, how I hope not! Aloud he asked, “What did you eat at the feast?”

  “Only a bite of that nasty beetle pudding.” She shivered. “I’m sorry, Sylvan, but that is one part of your culture I am never going to like. It’s just terrible.”

  “It’s an acquired taste,” he said absently. “So you had some of the fleeta pudding. But there was no water in the glasses, only woo. So I don’t see how it’s possible…”

  “I had some water though,” Sophia said.

  “You did?” He looked at her sharply. “When?”

  “When I was getting ready, before the feast. Nadia gave it to me in that huge, heavy hospitality cup.”

  Sylvan groaned. “Gods! That’s right—I did hear her tell my mother’s sister that she’d let you drink from the cup.” He shook his head. “But still, it can’t be. You’re not a native of Tranq Prime. I don’t see how…”

  “How what?” Sophia looked bewildered.

  “Sophia, just tell me one more thing.” He lowered his voice and looked at her intently. “Are you feeling any sensitivity or irritation right now in your nipples or between your legs?”

  “Oh, I…” Her cheeks went pink and she nodded. “Now that you mention it, I have been feeling, uh more sensitive, just since we’ve been sitting under this tree talking. But I thought it was just because this dress is so tight.”

  “I’m afraid not,” Sylvan said grimly. “Sophia…” He took both her hands in his. “Do you remember me telling you about Blood Fever?”

  “The disease that only affects unmated females and…oh!” She looked up at him in obvious dismay. “You don’t think I have that do you?”

  Sylvan nodded. “I’m afraid so. The only way to be absolutely certain is to observe the coloration of your nipples and the inside of your sex. If you really do have Blood Fever, they’ll both turn deep red very shortly.”

  “Really?” She put a hand to her breasts protectively. “Is there a cure? I know you said something about a vaccine…”

  “The vaccine prevents you from getting the fever in the first place—it can’t cure it once you’ve contracted it.” Sylvan shook his head. “In the past, the only way to be cured was to let one of the Blood Kindred who’d had some of your blood bite you.”

  She paled visibly and Sylvan knew why—she still feared him—feared his bite. Of course, knowing the trauma she’d endured in her childhood, he didn’t blame her. And now that he knew she cared for him—really cared—he felt he could go the rest of his life without biting her. They would have to have a purely platonic love, since Sylvan couldn’t make love to her and bond her to him without biting her, but that was all right with him. If a passionate celibacy was all he could have with Sophia, well, that was still better than having sex with any other female as far as he was concerned.

  “It’s all right,” he assured her, putting a hand to her pale cheek. “I’m sure I can use the vaccine as a basis and formulate a cure for you out of my essence. I’ve had your blood on several occasions, so my body will carry the antidote for you.”

  “No, Sylvan.” Sophia looked him in the eye as she spoke. “No, I…I want you to bite me. Bite me and heal me that way.”

  Sylvan shook his head. “You don’t know what you’re asking, Sophia. It’s not just about biting.”

  “What else is it about?” she asked.

  He frowned. “The antidote isn’t only carried in my essence—it’s in all my other bodily fluids as well. And in order to be certain you’re cured, I’ll need to fill you with as much, er, fluid as possible.”

  “Oh.” Her cheeks went scarlet.

  “So now you see,” Sylvan said gently. “Don’t worry—I have a small but fully functional lab on board the shuttle. I’ll start work on the antidote at once. But first I want to get you back to my mother’s sister’s dwelling.” He stood up and pulled her gently to her feet. “Just tell me one thing, are you having any other symptoms?”

  “Nothing except…ow!” Bending down, she lifted her skirt slightly and scratched her knee. “Nothing except a really itchy knee.”

  Sylvan frowned. “You were saying something about that when we folded space, weren’t you?”

  She nodded. “So I guess that can’t be part of the, uh, Blood Fever. It’s jus
t the scar from where the urlich bit me.”

  “But I healed you,” Sylvan protested.

  “I know—and you did a great job.” Sophia rubbed her knee again. “But there’s still this little lump of scar tissue. Just here, see?” She lifted her skirt again and showed him.

  Sylvan leaned over and looked more closely. “There does seem to be some kind of a lump there. But I don’t understand—there shouldn’t have been any scaring at all.”

  “It’s okay. It’s just itchy.” She dropped her skirt and gave him a small, uncertain smile. “Shouldn’t we be getting back to the domicile? I—”

  Suddenly there was a blinding flash like lightning and a loud pop! Sylvan’s nose was filled with the scent of ozone and he was temporarily blinded by the explosion of light. What in the seven hells…?

  “Sophia?” he said, blinking as he reached for her. “I don’t know what just happened but…Sophia?” For his hands touched only empty air.

  “Sophia? Sophia!” Looking around frantically, Sylvan saw an empty red leather dress and black boots lying on the ground exactly where she had been standing.

  But Sophia was gone.

  Chapter Thirty-one

  “What do you mean she’s gone?”

  Kat watched unhappily as Olivia leaned toward the viewscreen, her face twisted in fear. She and Baird had been summoned to an emergency call and Liv had asked Kat to come along. She had told Kat she was worried about Sophie—it was in the wee hours of the morning and she’d been having a bad dream right before the call came in. So now here they were, all dressed in their nightclothes and robes. But even Liv’s nightmare couldn’t compare with the news that greeted them when they opened the call and saw Sylvan standing there looking almost wild with grief.

  Sophie was gone.

  “She can’t be gone just like that,” Liv said for what had to be the tenth time. “People don’t just disappear into thin air!”

  “They do if someone is using a molecular transfer beam,” Baird said grimly. “Clothes left behind—nothing taken but her—it has to be. The beam won’t transport anything but living tissue.”