Nightshine: A Novel of the Kyndred

by Lynn Viehl

  They lay like that until Samuel murmured something and rolled onto his side, still keeping her pressed against him. Sweat streaked the sides of his face, and as she smoothed back his hair he trailed a line of kisses over her brow.

  “I know why you grow your hair long.” She made rings of it around her fingers. “Cutting it makes your barber feel like a butcher.”

  “Findley trims it for me every morning,” he told her as he rolled onto his side to run his hand down her arm. “It grows very fast, sometimes as much as twelve inches in a day. So does my beard.” He frowned as he touched his jaw, over which dark gold stubble was just beginning to show. “At least, it did before we were brought here.”

  “The beard was interesting, mío, but I like you better without it.” A strange tenderness welled inside her as she rested a hand on his hip. “So what do you think of all this?”

  He propped himself up on one elbow. “Trying slow actually may have to wait until next month. Possibly Christmas. And you?”

  “I need to sleep with more cripples.” She laughed as he scowled and tickled her. “All right, ex-cripples.”

  Samuel bent his head to hers, and Charlie’s gaze wandered, coming to an abrupt stop at the glint of a lens. Like all the others in the room, it was aimed directly at the bed.

  They’d forgotten about the cameras.

  As she closed her eyes to enjoy Samuel’s kiss, Charlie lifted her hand from the back of his neck and extended her middle finger.

  Chapter 10

  In the kitchen of her home, Tlemi set out what she would prepare for their midday meal: mangoes, smoked fish, and some of the herbed flatbread Xochi had learned how to bake. After watching the Americans she had no appetite, but if she didn’t feed Colotl, he would forget to eat, as he did so often now.

  This place was making them all sick, not in body, but in spirit.

  Living on the island had once made Tlemi feel as if she had come to paradise. Before they had been brought here, all they had ever known had been the darkness of the master’s domain. Tlemi’s oldest memories were of long, moonlit nights playing with Colotl and the other children in the gardens while the abuelas had tended the flowers or gathered fruit under the braziers. When the roosters crowed they were brought inside and sent to sleep in the cool, dark rooms in the lower levels.

  As she began slicing the mango, Tlemi remembered the delighted laughter that had spilled from her lips when she and Colotl had risen from their bed to watch their first sunrise on the island.

  In those early days after the master had sent them to live apart from him, they had been like little children again, running and playing and laughing with delight over each new discovery. It frightened some of the other women, but Tlemi felt she had been given all the gifts she could ever want: a beautiful home, good friends, and being Colotl’s woman. Even the price she had to pay for their new home had not weighed on her, not at first.

  That had been a precious time, one that had ended brutally when the master had sent Segundo to them to explain their duties, and Mocaya had been found out.

  The steward had come with his brutes and a man they had never seen before, a doctor from America. As soon as it was Mocaya’s turn to go to the seventh house and be examined, she had tried to flee. The men had run her down like a dog and dragged her back, and then the doctor sedated her, making her unable to keep her body changed as it was. That was when the secret she had been hiding had been revealed: she had been born with the body not of a woman, but of a man.

  What Tlemi remembered most about that terrible day was how Segundo had smiled, just before he shot Mocaya in the head. He offered the same smile a week later when he brought Pici to Ihiyo.

  Pici had cringed as Ihiyo exploded with rage, and then Segundo had pistol-whipped him into silence. As Ihiyo bled on the sands, the master’s steward had leaned over him and advised him to close his eyes while he did his duty.

  Fortunately Pici was a petite, helpless girl who cried easily, and had appealed to something in Ihiyo. Or perhaps Ihiyo wanted to live more than he wanted to be with another man. Tlemi knew he didn’t close his eyes when he was with Pici, but every night, after she fell asleep, he wept for Mocaya.

  Like many things she knew about their friends, Tlemi had never revealed it to them. Not even to Colotl, who had been Ihiyo’s friend since they were boys. He would have understood, but he already blamed himself for not knowing Ihiyo and Mocaya’s secret. It was why he had been so stubborn about the Americans.

  “Tlemi?”

  She looked over to see Colotl watching her from the doorway.

  His long moonlight hair and silver eyes always seemed to glow against his brown skin, which was as dark as hers was pale. He had taken off his shirt and hung it around his neck, and from the sand still clinging to his ankles she knew he had been walking along his lines, not to check them but to think.

  “You are back early.” Then, because she knew exactly why he had come to speak to her, she added, “He has seen to her.”

  Some of the tension around his mouth eased. “Did she fight him?”

  She shook her head, picking up the knife to finish slicing the mango. Knowing their lives depended on it, she had agreed to watch the Americans, but what she had witnessed troubled her. They were all well aware of why the master had sent them here, and if he discovered what the big man could do …

  “Can you bring that down to the beach?” Colotl asked. “I need to check my lines.”

  She nodded. Once he left, she took out a basket, placing the fruit and smoked fish in smaller containers before adding them and two of the colorful napkins Delores had embroidered.

  Colotl met her on the pathway outside, taking the basket from her and lifting the lid. His eyes narrowed as soon as he saw the red napkins covered with intricate designs in black thread. “It looks very good. I’m hungry.”

  “I think it will please you.” She patted his shoulder twice before walking with him to the sand. Along the way she felt the air around them go completely still, although the trees overhead still swayed gently in the breeze.

  A small crab scuttled toward her toes, his front claws snapping, only to encounter something that knocked him onto his back.

  “What is it?” Colotl asked as soon as the barrier was in place.

  “The American man.” She shook out the big coverlet and placed it on the sand. “He has changed.”

  “Changed?”

  “Not like Mocaya,” she said quickly. “His gift has changed. He healed the woman’s injuries.”

  Colotl stopped by one of the poles he had driven into the sand and knelt down, making a pretense of testing the fishing line knotted to it. Without looking at her, he muttered, “Did he use his blood?”

  “No, he used kisses and touching. It is the gift, not the master’s curse. He lives. He walks in the sunlight. He will not turn.” Tlemi felt impatient. “You have to call the others together and tell them what he is.”

  His expression turned impassive. “Why would I do this?”

  “Colotl, please.” She dropped down beside him. “With the gifts he has been given, the American could help us.”

  He made a bitter sound. “Why would he do that?”

  “He is still like us.” When he gave her a narrow look, she sighed. “If the master had brought him into his domain, he would be our brother. What does it matter now, anyway? Here we are no different.”

  “No different? We don’t even speak the same language.” He stood and began reeling in the line. As it emerged from the surf, fish caught on the hooks knotted to it began flopping.

  Tlemi knew exactly how they felt.

  “Pici’s time is coming. Soon,” she reminded him. “She is too small and weak. You know what will happen if she dies. They will just bring another woman, and this time I think Ihiyo will go mad. Colotl.” His silence made her sit down on the sand and stare at the water. “Very well. Who will dig the grave for her? You, or me?”

  “What would you have me do?”
he demanded, taking her by the shoulders and dragging her to her feet. “Kill you to save them? I don’t know them. You are the other half of my soul. I can’t live without you. I won’t.”

  “How much time do you think we have left together?” She picked up a piece of seaweed and idly wound it around her wrist. “One season? Two?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  She eyed him. “The master will not wait forever.”

  He said nothing at first, and then his mouth flattened. “If it comes to that, we will give him what he wants.”

  Tlemi had been taught to be obedient. She loved Colotl, and she deferred to his judgment in all things. Except this. “No. Never.”

  “Do you think it is easy for me to say?” he demanded. “To even think? But if I have to choose—”

  “Then Segundo will have to bring you another woman,” she promised him, “because on that day I will go into the water, and I will swim out to where it is dark, and I will not come back.”

  “Tlemi.” His voice broke on her name. “I cannot lose you.”

  “I will never do it,” she said simply. “Not for him, and not for you. But you know your duty, Colotl. Tie me up. Lock me away. I still have fingernails, and teeth. My veins are not so deep.”

  He lifted his hand as if to strike her, but Tlemi didn’t flinch. In all their years together, Colotl had never once touched her in anger.

  His hand moved slower than it should have, not to slap her face but to caress her cheek. “If you go into the dark water, so do I.”

  All of the fight poured out of her as sobs tore at her throat. “Colotl. Please. This could be our only chance to live. To be free.”

  He hauled her into his arms and held her as she wept. When Tlemi had no more tears, he used his shirt to dry her face.

  “We cannot do this without the others,” he said slowly. “I will speak to them about the American tomorrow. If they refuse—”

  Tlemi thought of Pici’s desperate eyes. “They will not.”

  As Samuel brought the tray into the master suite, Charlotte rolled onto her side and looked at him. Although she smiled, her eyes were once more guarded and watchful.

  “I was wondering where you were.” She glanced at the fruit salads he’d prepared. “Dinner in bed?”

  “On the patio, I think,” he said, scooping up her robe and handing it to her.

  She muffled a yawn with the backs of her fingers. “You want to watch the sunset?”

  “Not especially.” He waited for her to rise before walking outside with her. “But if you stayed in bed, we probably wouldn’t be dining until well after midnight.”

  “Or dawn.” She sat on the edge of one lounge and tightened the robe’s belt around her waist. “Are you a vegetarian?”

  He sat across from her. “No.”

  “That makes two of us.” She accepted the plate he offered and picked up a slice of mango. “You did notice that there’s no protein in our convenient little pantry.”

  “That’s why I’m planning to do a little fishing in the morning.” He set his plate aside to watch her eat, which she did with delicate greed. She also kept her gaze averted from his face, which made him wonder what was going on in her head. “Are you having any second thoughts?”

  “Why would I?” She bit into a strawberry and licked the red juice from her lips. “We’re consenting adults, we agreed on this together, and having sex with you will save me a lot of pain and suffering. It’s all good.”

  He wondered whether she would feel the same in nine months. “Whatever happens here, Charlotte, I want you to know that when we return to the States, I’ll look after you.”

  “That’s decent of you, mío, but I take care of myself.” She stood. “We should look around outside for the source of the electricity. They may have some tools or other things stored in a utility building that we can use.” She went back inside.

  To give her some time for herself, Samuel ate and watched the sunset. He didn’t want to think about the possibility of pregnancy, much less discuss it out loud, but he couldn’t keep the speculation out of his head. They would be having sex at least once a day, and he had yet to find any form of protection they could use. If Charlotte had been on the pill for birth control, she no longer had access to it. That meant they could conceive a child together in as little time as a few weeks.

  “No.” Charlotte emerged, dressed in two sarongs she had folded and fashioned into an impromptu halter dress.

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “I know what’s on your mind.” Her smile was a masterpiece of irony as she took his hand in hers. “Don’t worry.” As she spoke, she used one fingertip to trace three letters on his palm: I, U, and D. “We’re safe now.”

  The relief he’d expected didn’t come over him; instead he felt a moment of stunning disappointment before he cleared his thoughts. “But you don’t want this, do you?”

  “I’m fine with you and the sex for the duration.” She gestured around them. “I don’t want to be here. I’m useless here.”

  He realized she was referring to their isolation. “Is it so different from being back in the States?” When her expression became incredulous, he added, “You told me once in chat that you hardly ever use your ability, although you never mentioned why.”

  “Aside from it being a complete violation of someone else’s privacy,” she countered, “it’s too painful.”

  “Using your ability hurts them?”

  She gave him a bitter smile. “Oh, they don’t even know I’m in their heads, mío. It does a number on me. When I listen in, I not only hear everything someone thinks, but I feel what they feel. If they’re pissed off and I’m tapped in, I’m flooded with their rage. If they’re really upset, I start crying. If they’re in pain, I suffer, too.”

  “There’s always a price, isn’t there?” he murmured. “It must be terribly unpleasant for you.”

  “Unpleasant?” Her cheeks darkened and her eyes flashed. “Do you know how many times ordinary people think about things like punching out their spouse, stabbing their boss in the chest, or ramming their car into the back of someone who cuts them off? Or how it feels to have the same urges pouring into you?” Before he could answer her, she waved a hand at him. “Of course you don’t. People like you never have to deal with the real world.”

  “Wait.” He understood her anger, but not her contempt. “What do you mean, ‘people like you’ ? ”

  “People with limos and chauffeurs and no-limit credit cards,” she said. “People who don’t have to work, or worry about the bills, or live paycheck to paycheck. I figured you were pretty comfortable from some of the things you told me online, but you’ve got a lot more than that, don’t you? How much are you worth, Sam? Do you even know?”

  “At the moment I might as well be penniless,” he countered, “and you’d be surprised to know what I’ve dealt with, Charlotte.”

  “You’re not making me feel guilty,” she snapped. “Not after the way you’ve been stringing me along all this time.”

  “Stringing you along?” Now he was completely lost.

  “Didn’t you think it was hilarious when I told you how you could save money by making your own tortillas?” Her upper lip curled. “What do you really do when you’re hungry? Ring a bell? Have some maid bring you a gourmet meal on a silver tray with cloth napkins and a rose in a crystal vase? Before we were dumped here, you probably never stepped one foot in a kitchen.”

  “I do have someone who cooks for me,” he informed her gravely. “Lately he’s also had to bring my meals to me on a tray, but not because I choose to eat in bed. Until this morning, I’ve been so weak that when I wake I can’t sit up without a shot of morphine and two men to help me.”

  “That’s right; you’re a cripple.” She looked him over. “For some reason I keep forgetting that.”

  “I find it difficult to grasp as well,” he told her. “But you saw me on the bridge. Did I look as if I could run the hundred in fiv
e flat?”

  “No, but you were bleeding from an open wound. Something else you forgot to mention.” She rubbed her temples as if her head ached. “Besides, whatever pain you were in was nothing compared to your driver’s. That guy was in agony, but even then all he could think of was protecting some woman.”

  “You read James’s mind?”

  “I picked up his thoughts when we got to the scene,” she said. “It was so bad I nearly passed out.”

  A shrewd look came into his eyes. “You can read someone’s mind even when they’re unconscious?”

  “I don’t do dreams or the subconscious,” she said. “For me to read anyone, they have to be awake and alert.”

  “I see.” His mouth hitched. “James was shot before you arrived. I’m afraid he never regained consciousness.”

  It took her a moment to put it together. “That was you?”

  He inclined his head. “When the sniper opened fire on us, I had to drag James out of the car. At the time I was in no condition to do so.”

  She drew back, visibly appalled. “That didn’t come from your wound. What made you feel that kind of pain?”

  “It doesn’t—”

  “Damn it, Sam, tell me.”

  “My back,” he said reluctantly. “One side effect of my ability has been causing damage to my spine.”

  “But that should have healed.”

  All of the Takyn had accelerated immune systems that allowed them to recover from injury many times faster than ordinary human beings—all but Samuel.

  “When I was younger, it did,” he agreed. “I can’t tell you why, but as I’ve aged my ability to heal like you and the others has been compromised. For some time now my health and mobility have been steadily declining. Last summer my doctors told me that the damage had begun to accelerate.”

  Her voice went low and husky. “How long did they give you to live?”

  “Twelve months.”

  New anger flared in her eyes. “What the hell were you doing on that bridge? If you were in that much pain, you should have been in a hospital.”