“But Mother—”
“I told you, sweetheart,” she said gently. “I’m not your mother. Not really.”
No, but she had been the only mother Kor had ever known. The one who had raised him from a baby. Who had cared for him and dressed the little scrapes and wounds he got playing Blood Circuit champion with the other slave children. The one he ran to when he was hurt or upset. The one who cuddled him and sang to him after the lights went out and it was dark in the slave quarters.
She was the only mother he had and she was leaving him. Going away with her new master forever.
“I have to go.” Niomie stroked his hair gently with her bound hands. “I’m sorry, darling boy. You know I don’t want to leave.”
“Then don’t!” Kor’s eyes were getting hot for some reason. He was younger still than he had been when he had killed Taurex—only six cycles old. Too young to lose his mother. “Don’t leave me—let’s run away, Niomie! You and me.”
“Shhh! Don’t talk so!” She cast a fearful glance at the guard who was standing by the door, waiting for her. The man was glaring back at them balefully—clearly he had heard Kor’s words.
“I will talk so!” Kor shouted, his eyes growing even hotter, his vision growing red. “Why should we stay and let ourselves be sold? What makes Master any better than us? Why should he own us? We should own ourselves!”
“That’s enough of that kind of talk.” The guard came forward and grabbed Niomie roughly by the arm. “And enough goodbyes. Time to go, slave—your new master awaits.”
“No!” Suddenly the rage fear and grief all came to a point inside him. Kor felt them burst out, coming from his eyes in a concentrated blast. The guard stared at him for a split second, a shocked expression on his face…
And then he had no face, only a smoking, seared crater where his features had been. The lipless, burning hole that had been his mouth opened wide and a howl of pure anguish came out.
Kor didn’t know what he had done or how he had done it—he only knew the guard was incapacitated. He turned to Niomie.
“Come on, Mother—quickly, let’s go!”
But she backed away from him, a look of horror on her lovely face.
“Oh, no—no, what have you done? How did you do that? Your eyes…your eyes…”
My eyes! Suddenly Kor came back to himself and realized that the red beams coming from his eyes weren’t just a memory—they were blasting through the blood red waters of the Remembrance Pool, causing it to boil on contact. The water roiled and churned until he closed his eyes for a moment, willing the beams to stop.
He tried to think. What was he doing in the pool when he’d been determined not to go in?
With a flash he remembered—he’d jumped in to get Maggie. And oh Gods—she was down there now, sinking slowly in the bloody depths. What if the strange beams that shot from his eyes had harmed her? What if he’d killed her? Cut her in half with the strange lasers that somehow shot out when he got angry or upset?
Kor dived frantically, trying to see through the viscous red water, desperate to find her.
With a rush of relief he finally saw the faint outline of the dress she was wearing. She had sunk nearly to the bottom and she wasn’t moving, only her hair floated around her head like seaweed. Gods, was she hurt?
Kor dove down, reaching for the trailing edge of the white lace dress, praying he wasn’t too late to save her. Praying that he hadn’t hurt her—that he wouldn’t lose the female who had come to mean so much to him in such a short time.
* * * * *
Someone was tugging on Maggie’s dress, pulling her up to the surface of the blood red water—but she barely noticed. She wasn’t at the bottom of the Remembrance Pool at all.
She was back in the Microbiology lab at USF and Donald was facing her.
“You’ve been an exemplary lab assistant, Margaret,” he said formally.
“Thank you, Dr. Mahoney.” Maggie looked down shyly. She’d been in love with her brilliant, aloof professor for ages—almost ever since she started working for him. Was this just his end of the semester speech? Or was he—gasp—finally beginning to notice her? She waited breathlessly, hardly daring to look at him as he went on.
“You’re such a good assistant, in fact that I…” Donald cleared his throat, his prominent Adam’s apple bobbing up and down nervously in his thin throat. “I think it would be beneficial if we saw each other outside work. In a social setting.”
“Professor Mahoney…” Maggie finally dared to look up at him and make eye contact. “Are you…are you asking me out on a date?”
Donald cleared his throat again. “Yes…I suppose that’s the socially accepted term for it. Will you go?”
“Oh, yes!” Maggie felt a huge joy swelling inside her. He noticed me! He finally noticed me!
“Excellent.” Donald looked relieved. “Well then, you may pick me up at eight tonight. As you know, I do not drive.”
“Yes, I know.” Maggie didn’t even care about that. It was just that Donald was so brilliant he could never concentrate on the road well enough to get his driver’s license. Of course, when your head was always filled with advanced theories and complicated hypotheses, it was completely understandable that something as mundane as driving should take a back seat. And she…
“…has some excellent theories which deserve to be pursued,” Donald’s dry, flat voice explained as he talked to the review committee. “I have no hesitation whatsoever in recommending that Margaret’s research be given funding.”
Margaret’s heart swelled as she listened to him defending her. Not everyone on the review committee believed she ought to be given a green light on her project. But when Donald had heard she was having trouble getting funding, he hadn’t hesitated a bit.
“Your theories are excellent, Margaret,” he had said. “Shouldn’t I know? I was instrumental in helping you develop several of them.”
Maggie had felt a twinge of irritation—her research had nothing to do with Donald’s ideas. But irritation was quickly overcome by affection. He believes in me! He cares—cares enough to stand up and fight for me. He…
…was down on one knee in front of her. Right there in the Microbiology lab and there was a small black velvet box in his hand.
“Donald?” Maggie looked at him, hardly daring to hope. They’d been dating for so long and he’d never even broached the subject of marriage before, though she had dropped several hints. Could it be that he was finally going to ask the ultimate question?
“Margaret?” he asked stiffly, holding out the box and swallowing so that his Adam’s apple bobbed in that adorable way he had when he was nervous. “Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”
“Oh, yes! Yes, Donald!” Maggie flung her arms around him and buried her face in his boney shoulder. “Yes, I will!”
“Excellent.” Donald patted her shoulder awkwardly. Maggie knew he tried hard but physical affection never came easily to him. Just at that moment, though, she didn’t care. She had enough affection for both of them.
“Oh, Donald,” she whispered as he slipped the ring with its tiny chip of a diamond onto her finger. “This is so romantic! I can’t believe you asked me here in the lab where we first met. I can’t believe we’re really going to be married. I can’t believe…
…that I cheated on him that way!
Suddenly Maggie’s head broke the surface of the red, slimy water and someone pushed her up onto a rough, cold surface out of the wet depths. She coughed and gasped, looking around wildly through smeared glasses.
Where am I? What happened? Where’s Donald? I didn’t cheat on him, did I? I wouldn’t do that. I’m not that kind of girl…am I? What’s going on?
“You okay, blondie? You’re not hurt are you?”
The deep anxious voice in her ear was completely unfamiliar. Maggie looked around and saw a huge, muscular man dragging himself wearily out of a swimming pool filled with blood. His thick black hair was slicked back from
his face and his eyes were a strange, pale blue with slitted oval pupils like a cat’s. His bare chest was scarred, as though he’d been in several fights and the black leather pants he wore clung to long, muscular legs. The man reached for her but Maggie pulled away, her mind going blank.
“Who are you?”
“You know damn well, who I am. Now let me look at you—my eyes were doing that thing again. Want to make sure I didn’t hurt you.”
“No—get back.” Maggie evaded his grasp. “Where’s Donald?”
“Donald?” He sounded irritable and his eyes flashed briefly red. “Isn’t that the name of your stupid fiancé?”
“Yes, that’s him. Where is he? I had a crazy idea I did something wrong—that I cheated on him. But I would never. I…I…” Maggie put a hand to her forehead, still keeping her distance from the strange man. Her head ached—had she hit it on the edge of the pool when she fell in? Even worse, her back burned—burned like someone had dipped a knife in fire and decided to carve into her flesh. What was going on with her? Who was this big, muscular stranger and where was she?
“Maggie, come on…” He reached for her again and Maggie scooted backwards, nearly falling into the pool again. “Stop that!” The man lunged forward and grabbed her arm, pulling her away from the edge by sheer force.
“Let me go!” Maggie gasped, slapping at the large hand around her arm. “Don’t touch me—I don’t know you!”
“Sorry.” He dropped her arm at once. “Just don’t want to have to dive in and drag you out again. I’ve had enough of that fucking Remembrance Pool to last me a lifetime.”
“Remembrance Pool?” Something about that sounded familiar. Maggie frowned, trying to bring the thought forward but it wouldn’t come. All she could think about was the burning in her back. God, it hurt! She reached behind her, trying to touch the wounded spot and nearly cried with pain. “Ow! My back!”
“That’s right—the scratches.” The man frowned. “You’re probably having a reaction.”
Suddenly a strange pinkish white creature with pink and blue striped eyes and waving, tentacles for hair came rushing up to her.
“Lady Pope’nose! Are you all right? I saw everything. My deepest apologies…”
Maggie shrank away from the strange creature which was reaching out to her. “Get away! Where’s Donald?” Suddenly tears were very close to the surface. Her head ached and she didn’t recognize anyone and her back was on fire. “Donald,” she sobbed. “I want Donald! He was here just a minute ago—he was asking me to marry him. Where is he?”
“Damn it,” the muscular man swore. “She’s got fresh cuts on her back from a run in with one of the trees in your damned Dreaming Woods,” he told the weird alien creature. “The waters of Remembrance are still working on her—she’s stuck in a loop. Quick—get her something to wash it out.”
“Oh dear!” The creature looked concerned. “Come right this way—we have a decontamination shower located in the annex.”
Over Maggie’s vigorous protests, the muscular man lifted her as though she weighed no more than a piece of paper and marched her through a crowd of richly but scantily clad women and bare chested men who appeared to be their servants. The alien led them to a large, echoing room and pressed a button on a blue marble wall. Suddenly hot water began pouring down from the ceiling above.
“I’ll leave you,” the alien said. “Call if you have need of me.”
Maggie could barely hear the strange, high voice over the roar of the water rushing down on her head. She was half drowned and thoroughly frightened.
“Let me go!” She beat against the stranger’s broad, bare chest, fighting with all her might. “Let me go—put me down!”
“Hold still. You have to get that damn stuff off your skin and out of the cuts.” He held her tightly—too tightly to get free but that didn’t stop Maggie from struggling as hard as she could. Reaching up, she clawed at him, leaving long red furrows in his cheek. They started to bleed at once. The man gave a muffled curse and jerked his head back, but still he refused to let her go, even with the blood dripping down his face.
Even as frightened as she was, Maggie couldn’t keep it up forever.
“Please,” she gasped, exhausted at last. “Please, I can’t…can’t do this.” She started to cry again. “I just…just want Donald.”
“Yes, so you’ve said—repeatedly,” he growled. Pulling her closer, he put her head on his shoulder and cradled her body with one arm. With the other hand he lifted her hair, making sure the warm water gushing down from overhead poured directly over her burning back.
Maggie whimpered in pain and wiggled against him but even one handed his grip was firm. She wasn’t going anywhere. Finally the burning in her back began to subside. As it did, her head began to clear.
I’m at a spa, she remembered although it seemed a strange place to find herself. I was going to Gaia but I got sidetracked and wound up running off with him. With… She wiped at the smeared lenses of her glasses and looked at the huge, muscular man who was holding her from the corner of her eye. Kor. That’s right—his name is Kor, she suddenly remembered. I rescued him from Lady Pope’nose. Why did I do that? Oh right—because of the dreams.
Though she was trying to study him surreptitiously, he saw her staring.
“So, blondie—feeling better?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at her.
“I…” Maggie put a hand to her head and pushed the wet hair out of her face. “I don’t know.”
“You sound more like yourself,” he rumbled, finally stepping out of the flow of water coming from the ceiling. “That’s good anyway.”
“What happened?” Maggie demanded. “How did I end up here?” Her head was still throbbing and the past and present were only gradually beginning to separate.
“That crazy Ponce’beast female pushed you in the deep end,” Kor growled. “I jumped in to get you out.”
“Oh.” Maggie shivered as the things she’d seen in the blood red water began to resurface. “I remember now—I had…had so many memories down there.”
He looked away. “Yeah. So did I. Things I thought I’d forgotten…tried to forget, anyway.”
When he turned his head, Maggie saw the long, bloody furrows on his cheek—they looked like fresh scratch marks.
“Oh, Kor!” she gasped, reaching to touch his face. “Your cheek!”
“It’s fine.” He jerked his head away from her seeking fingers.
“But…you’re bleeding.” More and more details were becoming clear. Maggie remembered him dragging her out of the pool… remembered her throbbing head and the burning in her back…remembered fighting and struggling to be free of his arms. “Did…did I do that?” she asked timidly.
“It doesn’t matter.” He rubbed his bleeding cheek against his broad, bare shoulder.
“No, it’s not—I hurt you! Oh, Kor, I’m so sorry!” Maggie wanted to cry she felt so bad. “I would never…I was just so frightened. And you’re so big and strong and scary and I didn’t know you.”
“No, and you didn’t want to know me either.” He looked at her directly at last. “I’m not the male you wanted when you were in pain…in fear. I’m not the one you were crying out for.”
Maggie didn’t know what to say. She did remember begging to see Donald—maybe because all of the memories she’d had in the Remembrance Pool were of him. Now why would that be? whispered the snarky little voice in her head. Maybe because you were cheating on him at the banquet tonight? Cheating with the same man holding you in his arms right now?
Maggie felt a fresh surge of guilt. Oh, God, no matter how she justified it, she had been doing things she shouldn’t with one man while she was engaged to another. The tiny diamond chip on her finger winked reproachfully at her as though to remind her of the man who had given it to her—the man she’d left behind. Donald.
Thinking of the things she’d done with Kor made her realize that he was still holding her in his arms and the white lace dress she
was wearing was totally soaked and completely transparent. She might as well be naked—everything showed.
“Kor,” she said, shifting uncomfortably. “Maybe…maybe you should put me down. I’ll go see if I can find something for your face.”
“Don’t worry about my face.” He set her carefully on her feet but he was still looking at her, almost as though he was hoping to see something in her eyes. Maggie didn’t know what he wanted to see but after a moment he looked away. “It’ll heal.”
“You’ll have scars,” Maggie protested.
He shrugged, his broad shoulders rolling with the movement. “Got plenty of scars—a few more won’t make any difference.”
“But—”
“Mistress Pope’nose, are you all right?” The master of the spa came toward them, a concerned look in his Easter egg colored eyes. “I’m so sorry—Lady Ponce’beast is being dealt with.”
“I think I’m fine,” Maggie said but Kor shook his head.
“My lady is still very shaken. I must take her back to her suite and tend to her there.”
“Of course. Of course.” The Master of the spa nodded obsequiously. “Please don’t hesitate to ask if there is anything you need, Lady Pope’nose.”
“I…thank you, I will,” Maggie murmured. She shivered. “Right now I’d really like a towel.”
“Here.” Kor had already found some large, fluffy things that looked more like blankets—they were hanging from hooks on one wall. He brought one over and wrapped Maggie up in it. Then, before she could protest, he swung her up into his arms again. With a short nod to the master of the spa, he carried her away.
Chapter Seventeen
“Where are you taking me?” Maggie asked. “This isn’t the way back to our room.”
“No, it’s the way to the night porter,” Kor said shortly.
Maggie looked confused. “The night porter? But why…?”
“Thought you wanted to bribe him to make a call. So you can get out of here as soon as possible,” Kor growled. “Isn’t that right?”
Chained_Brides of the Kindred Page 18
