The Demon's Change

by Donna McDonald

  Eventually he came to the edge of the city. There he found what he had expected to find, which was a small house made of stacked stones. It stood proudly even though almost hidden by a garden of vegetation in bad need of attention.

  He remembered his father planting the garden for his mother. He and Conor had been young pranksters, unable to focus enough energy on the difficult ground tending work to be of real help. Instead, they had played around him, fashioning weapons from the scraps his father had discarded after building the first round of planting beds.

  Fortunately, the paved walkway showed less signs of decomposition. Someone was obviously keeping it swept and clear. He wondered what kept Zella from working on the rest.

  His knock on the door of the house was a courtesy. Technically, he had the right as the sole Synar male to enter his father’s house at will. To ensure that children always had a home, property was listed to Norblade females, but responsibility of it was turned over to male mates.

  Thinking of himself as an estranged child, Synar’s hesitation to engage his mother had him pausing and knocking on the door like he was a stranger. A soft shuffling noise penetrated the wooden barrier just before it opened to him. The female straightened and blinked at him, almost as if she didn’t know who he was.

  “I was on my way to rest. It is so late, I had given up on receiving a visit,” Zella said. “Wielding the demon’s power has hardened your face, Liam.”

  Synar bowed his head, hurt as always by the cool, critical reception he received from his sole surviving family member. However, he was beyond discussing his emotional reactions with a female who seemed to have no remaining compassion for him.

  “I came because you asked me to come, Zella. Unfortunately, Ralak had to be my first visit. I’m on Norblade for a Peace Alliance matter.”

  “Of course you are,” Zella said sharply, stepping aside. “Enter at your convenience, Son of Bogdan.”

  Synar nodded at her formality as he stepped across the threshold. The lodging still held Bogdan’s energy, which radiated to him powerfully as he looked around. Not just the handmade furnishings, but even the stone walls hadn’t turned loose of him. The room where his brother had murdered his father was still down the long hallway and to the right. He would visit the room later, but only after Zella had retired for her sleep cycle.

  “I thought I would stay the night, if that is okay. My task on Norblade may require a lot of travel. Tonight may be one of the few I have available to spend with you,” Synar said.

  Zella bowed her head to him in acknowledgement, but her gaze was filled with the unhappiness his presence brought to her home. Perhaps he was a reminder of her losses. Maybe she truly detested him because of Conor. Regardless of either, Synar still felt a sense of duty for her. That was just how it was.

  “I see nothing has changed with you, Liam. The needs of the Peace Alliance still come before family. Perhaps I should be grateful you’re here at all.”

  Synar bowed his head and tried his best not to sigh at her negative attitude. “I have come to listen to your concerns, Zella.”

  “Very well. Let me prepare some refreshment for you first. There’s already a fire in the common area. It barely heats these cold stones enough, but hopefully it will bring some comfort after your day.”

  “Thank you, Zella. If you have some Siren tea, I’d be happy with just that,” Synar said.

  “Since when do you drink Siren tea?” Zella asked, surprised by the request.

  “Since I discovered my mate has an affinity for it,” Synar replied. “Ania spent many years on Rylen. She acquired a taste for Siren things. It is a trait she shares with you.”

  “Well, if she lived among them all that time, I can’t imagine why she never mated one,” Zella said. “I favor Siren things because I was courted by a Siren once. It was when I was too young and foolish to appreciate his type of devotion. I can’t think now why I thought your sire was a better choice for a mate.”

  Synar absorbed the verbal slap directed at both him and Bogdan, but again said nothing in response to his mother’s harsh comment. He waited patiently and calmly knowing Zella watched him for signs of anger. She would find none because her words had no sting.

  Ania had lived several centuries on a whole planet full of males like Zade and Warro, yet it was he who had experienced the incredible honor of being her first breach. What he had told Ralak about Ania refining his character had been absolute truth, and he smiled as he considered his good fortune. It obviously wasn’t the reaction Zella had wanted from him because she stiffened and turned on her heel to storm off.

  His instinctive reluctance to visit Norblade over the past few years was validated by her attempts to make him angry. Synar made his way to the common area feeling great trepidation as he entered the room. Though his father’s energy was present, his mother’s influence was still everywhere as well.

  When he and Conor had been children, Zella had woven colorful rugs which were still in use, even though they were growing threadbare. As he looked around, he realized everything covered in cloth of any kind was showing too much use. Ralak really could give Zella a better life. Not just for the additional wealth she would enjoy, but he thought perhaps Ralak might win her compassion over time. Persuasion was the older male’s forte as a Norblade Chancellor. Plus Ralak was a master at compromises that always seemed to work out in his favor.

  Synar turned when his mother came into the room carrying a tray laden with tea and his favorite wafers from childhood. His confusion at her thoughtfulness after their exchange in the hallway must have shown on his face because she cleared her throat and flushed under his gaze.

  “Shall I pour for you or would you rather serve yourself?” she asked.

  “You can pour, Zella. It smells wonderful. Thank you for taking the time to prepare it,” Synar said.

  “Yes. Unlike many other things, Siren tea never fails to soothe the restlessness in me.”

  Synar took the cup she handed him and deliberately sat in the chair his father had always favored. It was a petty act, but had the desired effect of silently communicating his alliance with the male who sired him. He sipped the fragrant brew while he waited for Zella to tell him the reason for her insistent summons to see her.

  “I hope you enjoy the tea.”

  “It’s truly wonderful.” Synar answered, secretly pleased with her much calmer demeanor.

  He watched as his mother poured herself a cup of tea before taking her habitual seat as well. Something about the simple action had invisible walls crumbling inside him.

  How many times had he seen his parents sitting in this very room drinking tea? Thousands, probably.

  Grief returned and brought more memories than Synar could process without time for reflection. This house was full of them. He doubted he would ever be able to spend time here without reliving his father’s death over and over. The children Ania carried might change that one day, but he recognized that was more wishful thinking than actual possibility.

  Zella’s severe frown over his continued silence brought his mind back to the strained atmosphere between them. “How have you been?” he asked finally.

  When she looked at the floor, he suddenly knew his parent was going to hide everything from him that really mattered. Misery. Happiness. Unreleased pain. To Zella, he was mostly a stranger now. Before speaking, she shrugged as if unconcerned.

  “I get by well enough, considering I have no male to rely on here. Not that I’ve been looking, because I have not,” Zella insisted.

  “Well, speaking of males to rely on, Ralak asked me about you. I hear he’s interested in taking on that role in your life,” Synar reported. “How do you feel about that?”

  Zella snorted. “Ralak Bartoff. It amazes me that an older male in his esteemed position can be so foolish. He envisions himself as my suitor. I’m surprised he had the nerve to mention his insanity to you.”

  Synar nodded, seeing no reason to shield the truth. “He said he w
ould offer you a mating contract any time you would have him. I got the impression that he was refusing to look for other mates while he waited for you.”

  Zella shook her head as she looked away, staring at the far off wall. “I have given him no reason to think I would wish for such an arrangement with him. I sometimes think I am beyond such things.”

  His eyebrows went up. “Why do you think that? You will live another century, perhaps even two. Do you wish to live all those years alone? If Ralak is not your choice, petition suitors until you find one you like. Even though I am not availing myself of any of the Synar wealth, Bogdan’s pension will run out long before the end of your life comes.”

  When Zella looked down and studied her hands, his intuition took over. He scanned her energy, not surprised at what he saw. His mother was in emotional agony and fighting not to show it to him.

  “Ralak’s offer has not been my only one, but I am too damaged to be a proper mate. Whoever chose me would soon regret his petition. Then I would be released from my contract, and worse off than I am now from a wealth standpoint. The ruse I live is to maintain my respect in the community. In the past year, I have come to terms with the limitations of my life.”

  Synar frowned. Limitations? His mother was in a favored position. Her value as a female would never be higher on Norblade. Bogdan was considered a hero.

  “Let’s discuss this another way. What kind of life do you desire?”

  Synar watched as his mother stood and walked to poke at the fire in the grate.

  “That is the reason I wanted to talk to you, Liam. While I have no desire for another arrangement, I fully recognize the financial wisdom of one. If you choose a mate for me, by Norblade law I would have to at least consider the male. I would of course say yes because one is as good as the next in most ways. Besides, no male would dare go back on their contract afterward because they would fear you and your control of the Demon of Synar.”

  Synar hoped the shock he felt wasn’t showing. He sat his cup of tea back on the tray. “Why would you want to leverage Malachi’s power against a future mate? Zella, you hate the demon.”

  “Indeed. I thoroughly detest the Demon of Synar. That is a profound truth. The demon has ruined my life at least twice. I thought perhaps his evil could be made to serve my good for once.”

  Synar rubbed a hand over his face, but it couldn’t remove the weariness he felt. “You didn’t answer my question, Zella.”

  “Must we torture each other with our conflicting philosophies, Liam? You remain too naïve to see the demon for the curse that he is to both of us.”

  “I have come to see the demon’s power as an energy in need of proper direction. Sometimes it does feel like a curse, but I accept my responsibility to him,” Synar said.

  “What about your responsibility to me?” Zella demanded.

  “Aye. That is a proper question. And why I came to see you. My sense of familial responsibility is more strong now than before your request, which is why I must refuse to do what you ask. I will never force you to make a mating contract that you have no intention of honoring in the proper manner. I might be his master, but Malachi serves the Creators. The demon’s power is not a commodity for the Synar family.”

  Synar waited for the hysterics to begin, but instead his mother merely stared at the flames, refusing to look at him. Her voice when she spoke was full of hurt.

  “Why did I expect you to understand this when you understand nothing else? You want to know what I desire, Liam? Fine. I will tell you. What I desire is to never have been mated to Bogdan Synar, but no one can give me that. Because of him and the cursed Demon of Synar, my only compassionate son is in exile. This planet’s admiration for the Synar males sickens me.”

  Synar sighed. His decision to keep his children away from Zella’s warped personality had just been validated by her words. He would never willingly expose them to such spitefulness.

  “I grow weary of waiting for you to drop your illusions, Zella. Hear the truth and accept it. For the sake of gaining Malachi’s power, Conor murdered our sire while I watched. Your continued pleasure in that death does not honor you. Conor should have paid for his crimes by losing his own life. Because of Bogdan’s wishes and yours, I set my evil brother on a path of redemption instead. By the Creators, my actions were the best I could do for your so-called compassionate son.”

  Synar stood then, bumping into the table and tea tray in his haste to leave. It sent his cup and the brewing pot dancing angrily.

  “Never ask me again to choose a mate for you. In your current frame of mind, I cannot help you at all. You have not asked about my service, my mating, or even my personal well-being. Are we still family, you and I? It does not seem so. The demon you detest has shown me more kindness than you have. If your heart bears so great a hatred for your deceased mate, why did you stay with him so long? Why did you not have Bogdan dissolve your mating agreement long ago? You bear some responsibility for your situation. I insist you own it.”

  Synar watched Zella’s back stiffen as she turned to the fire again.

  “Do you think I didn’t try to go? Bogdan would not grant me leave of him, even when I left his bed. He forced me to stay. All he cared about was what others would think.”

  “Then not letting you go was my sire’s greatest mistake, maybe even greater than not killing your attackers in time to prevent your abuse,” Synar said firmly. “But harboring hatred and not moving on has become your mistake since. The past can offer you no comfort, Zella. With such a shielded heart, you are missing all the joys of the present.”

  He walked to the door, but turned back and looked around. He sighed at the despair overshadowing all the warmth in the room.

  “You had two sons, not just one. When you wish to remember that and honor our connection, contact me. Otherwise, I will leave you to your life to do what you will with it.”

  When she kept her back to him and said nothing more, Synar shook his head and walked out.

  Chapter 13

  “That’s the best I can do, Ensign. Next time you get into a disagreement with a plasma torch, try to keep your fingers out of the discussion. They can’t always be sewn back on,” Malachi said as he wrapped the newly reattached digit to the healthy one next to it. When the numbing agent wore off, there would be a great deal of pain for a day or two. “There. All done. Now go rest and take those pain killers I gave you. When Ensign Ador returns, come back and we’ll see if she can help heal this faster.”

  “Aye. Thanks for saving another one,” the ensign said.

  Malachi returned the polite head nod and then watched the younger male walk out the door.

  “Nice work,” Chiang said, grinning at the surprised look he got in return for the praise.

  Malachi lifted an eyebrow as he pondered his favorite being to mentally torture. “Isn’t that three digits that male has severed since his move to Engineering?”

  Chiang chuckled. “Yes, I believe that number is correct. Aren’t you glad Synar didn’t move him to the galley to work for Chef?”

  Malachi snorted at the Greggor’s crude humor. “My threshold for grossness is higher than most, but even I find that comment appalling. I think I’m shocked at you.”

  Chiang laughed and picked up the portable com that he’d laid aside to watch Malachi reattach the young Norblade’s finger. “Your work is improving. So is your attitude. There was hardly any condescension in your comments to the clumsy Ensign.”

  “Well, I have been practicing my sympathetic bedside manner. Since we’re trading observations, I have to say that you’re in a remarkably good mood considering your mate is gone,” Malachi said, crossing his arms as the Greggor’s grin widened. “Don’t you miss our feisty Sumerian?”

  Chiang shrugged in answer before he spoke. His lightness of feeling about Boca’s absence had been a surprise to him as well. “Of course I miss her. But I am also without mating anxiety for the first time since I set eyes on that female. Plus, I have seen Boc
a fight. She’s more likely to lose her temper and accidentally kill someone than to get hurt herself. In the meantime, I plan to enjoy her short absence in our giant quarters all by myself.”

  “You do know that Ensign Karr went with her,” Malachi said.

  Chiang snorted. “Karr is a mere pup. She sometimes thinks I am too young for her. She would find little of value with someone that inexperienced with females.”

  Malachi laughed at the Greggor’s bragging. “Although I agree that is a truth, I don’t think I understand this, Chiang. I truly sense no anxiety in you. Can you explain your lack of concern?”

  Chiang let the com tilt down as he lifted his gaze to meet Malachi’s directly. He sobered and gave it some thought when he realized how seriously the demon was listening. “No. I don’t understand it. But I have heard mating is like this. Sometimes you just need a break from each other.”

  Malachi shook his head. “No wonder I had trouble with my reaction to the emissary. Nothing about corporeal mating desire is logical.” The doctor’s laugh at his words had him frowning. “Your demeanor continues to puzzle me. Please explain your amusement.”

  “My anxiety over my female is lowering while your anxiety over one is rising. I thought your emissary was gone. Who is the unlucky recipient of your interest now?” Chiang asked.

  “I don’t know what you mean. My anxiety is not rising. I feel perfectly calm,” Malachi said. He was perplexed both by the irritating comment and the Greggor’s knowing grin. It got worse when Chiang outright laughed and shook his head.

  “I sort of wish Boca were here to see this,” Chiang said. “Your Norblade body is producing pheromones, Malachi. Haven’t you noticed the growing insistence of your physical urges?”

  “It is? I am?” Malachi looked down at himself as if the pheromones might be showing somewhere he had missed checking. “Interesting. I actually did sense some changes, but I didn’t understand them. Pheromone production would certainly explain all the sudden bonding organ erections I’ve been getting for apparently no reason. Why would my body begin such a process without a recipient?”