0437169001337283106 wind demon 02

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0437169001337283106 wind demon 02 Page 17

by dark wind


  “Kam, no!” Bridget wailed. “They’ll kill you!”

  Cree’s attention cut to Bridget and he saw the pleading in her eyes. He knew she understood he had no choice, but he heard her whispered denial just the same.

  “I have no great desire to harm this woman, Cree, but I will slit her throat if you do not surrender to us.” He took one last look at his lady then threw the chain across the room.

  “Kamerone!” Bridget sobbed, her love for him making the one word a plea for forgiveness.

  “On your knees, Reaper!” one of the Amazeen demanded as the four warrioresses rushed to Cree.

  Akkadia watched Kamerone Cree’s face and she saw the knowledge of his defeat begin to register. She raised her chin, satisfaction at having captured the most wanted man in the universe lighting her eyes. As he dropped to his knees, her eyes widened with delight. “Bind him,” she ordered her Sisters.

  Cree was emotionless as his arms were dragged behind his back and the titanium manacles were clamped tightly around his wrist. Under other circumstances, he would have snapped easily the cable that ran between the two bands, but with a Hasdu dagger pressed against his lady’s windpipe, he would not.

  Bridget was sobbing uncontrollably, her heart breaking, her fear a sentient life form pushing against her body. “No, Kamerone, no!”

  “Let her go,” Cree asked softly. “She is no threat to you.”

  “When I know you are no threat to us, Reaper.”

  Once more light pulsed in the cafeteria and Cree heard footsteps behind him. He was looking at Bridget, memorizing her face for the time when he would no longer be able to see her. Nothing mattered to him save her safety and he would do whatever these bitches demanded to make sure she survived this evil day.

  “I’m sorry, Beloved.” Bridget extended one hand toward him . “I love you.”

  “I love you, as well, my lady.”

  When he saw Bridget’s eyes flare with terror as she recognized the person walking up behind him, he knew who had joined them.

  “Hello, Reaper,” the woman sneered.

  “Dr. Sejm,” he said a fraction of a second before the needle was driven into his neck.

  Hael Sejm staredinto the face of the unconscious Reaper and felt a thrill of anticipation shudder through her body. Everyone on board was still awake save the sleeping Dearg Duls.

  Nor would he be revived until he was strapped to a restraint table in Sejm’s lab for the man was as dangerous as they came, more so than any of his kind. Although heavily manacled inside the E.S.U. and pumped full of powerful neuroinhibitors that would have caused brain damage in a normal man, Kamerone Cree was still a threat to the women on board. So careful had the Amazeen Strike Force been to ensure Cree was put out of commission for the trip, a special-built Extended Sleep Unit had been designed to house the warrior. It had been built with a device that would-should Cree wake and attempt to break free of his confinement-immediately evacuate every atom of oxygen from the unit, rendering him unconscious. As an added precaution to prevent an accidental breaking of the pressure lock should an emergency arise with the ship’s systems, the seal on the unit had been wielded shut with a reinforced titanium bond. The seal would have to be cut open with a laser torch to free the Reaper.

  Akkadia Kahmal came to stand beside Dr. Sejm. There were five long gouges down the Major’s otherwise lovely face and she was pressing a handkerchief to her cheek to staunch the bleeding.

  “I take it the whore is giving you trouble?”

  Akkadia grunted. “I miscalculated when I beamed her aboard our ship instead of ridding the universe of her infectious presence. A mistake I will not make again.” Hael nodded. “Burkhart is loyal to him so she must be watched at all times. I almost chose her over Dunne when making the decision of which female we would put in his path, but it was Dunne he noticed.” The Major pulled the handkerchief from her face and looked at it. Deciding the bleeding had stopped, she tucked the handkerchief into the sleeve of her uniform. “I don’t see how any female could give” She cocked her chin at Cree. “that thing any loyalty.”

  “He has a certain allure,” Hael shrugged. “Perhaps it has something to do with pheromones. Who knows? I fail to detect the fascination, but I have seen what it does to other women.”

  “Not this woman.”

  “That is good to know. It will make our job so much easier.” She turned her attention from the Reaper to look at the Major. “I have not expressed my gratitude that you did not kill Burkhart. We can use her as leverage with this one.”

  “You think he’ll care what happens to her?”

  “Oh, yes,” Hael said, surprised at the question. “He will most definitely care! I saw the look on his face when he thought she had been disintegrated. His fear for the Terrans was most amusing.” Akkadia cleared her throat. “I apologize for having harmed your surrogate son, Doctor.”

  “It could not be avoided. You did not kill him and that is all that matters.” She smiled nastily. “But he’ll be out of commission a week; two at the most.”

  “A very handsome man is Admiral Kahn. Under other circumstances, I would not mind having him at stud. I would imagine he would produce superior offspring.” Hael chortled at the notion of Tylan Kahn being at the Major’s mercy in one of her breeding farms on Amazeen. “He is needed right where he is, Major. Bridget will have need of his strong arms when she is told this one has met his fate.” She smiled at the sleeping Reaper. “Tylan will be most kind to our Bridget.”

  Akkadia cocked her head to the side in query. “You are very fond of Dunne, aren’t you, Lady?” Hael pondered the question for a moment then agreed. “Aye, I believe I am. She has spirit and intelligence. It is through no fault of her own that we chose her to mate with this beast or that the suggestionaries took a firmer hold of her mind than I anticipated. She believes she loves him and no amount of explanation could ever convince her otherwise. But...” The Major waited politely for the second most powerful woman on Rysalia Prime to finish her thought.

  She was awed by Hael Sejm and, truth be told, privately feared the woman. The Chalean Healer let nothing get in the way of the Multitude’s agenda...not even her own surrogate son...and Akkadia knew anyone who went up against Hael Sejm would not survive the encounter.

  “When Bridget is told this one has met his richly deserved fate on Rysalia Prime, she will turn to Tylan for comfort. He will be there-as he has always been there for her-and his comfort will metamorphose into something more...shall we say, physical?”

  “Ten minutes until the wormhole, Major,” one of the crewman informed Akkadia.

  “I almost feel sorry for her,” Akkadia said, extending a hand to Sejm to precede her to the Extended Sleeping Units where they would be spending the next six months.

  “There is no need to feel pity for Bridget,” Hael hissed. “Her love for this beast has caused her nothing but pain. His death will release her from the hold he has over her!” Akkadia believed otherwise. She had held the Terran against her during the standoff in the hospital and had felt the quivers of fear rippling through Bridget Dunne’s body. That fear was not for her but for the man across the room whose own terror was blazing across his handsome face.

  And he was handsome, Akkadia begrudgingly admitted as she looked back at him. His face was almost perfect with high cheekbones, long dark lashes, and lips meant to be ravaged. He was a superior physical specimen with rock-hard stomach muscles and powerful arms and legs. His crop of thick dark curls invited a woman’s hand to grab it and pull as she plundered his mouth. Under other circumstances, he would have made excellent breeding stock.

  But Reapers could not be used for breeding. Akkadia sighed deeply.

  “We learned otherwise, eh?” Hael asked, correctly reading the expression on the Major’s face.

  “Aye. That we did.”

  “Live and learn.” She looked down the long row of E.S.U.s where more than five dozen Terran males were confined. “Live and learn.”

&nbs
p; “Have you chosen which ones will be harvested?” Akkadia inquired as she, too, observed the two rows of E.S.U.s.

  “Aye. The five Healers and the six scientists. When we dock, do not wake those. We might as well keep them unconscious until the harvesting is done.” She took the Major’s hand as Akkadia helped the old woman into her assigned E.S.U. “No need borrowing trouble by allowing them to know what we are about.”

  The Major felt a tiny tug of remorse for what was going to be done to the eleven men she and the Healer were discussing, but then dismissed the sympathy from her mind.

  After all, they were just men and as such, meant little in the overall scheme of the universe.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  “Warning! Systemsalert! Systems alert!”

  The pressure lock on Akkadia Kahmal’s E.S.U. broke with a loud hiss and the lid arced upward along the dual tracks attached to the bulkhead. The Amazeen Major’s eyes snapped open as the alarm klaxon’s shrill blast pierced her hearing. She was up and out of the E.S.U. even as the pressure locks on the other units began disengaging.

  “What’s happening?” she yelled.

  “Oxygen levels are dropping, Major,” the AIU reported as it lurched into step beside the ship’s captain who was also out of her Extended Sleep Unit. “We have a hull breach in aft section, cargo bay 4.”

  “Cause?” Captain Chakai demanded.

  “Collision with an asteroid has ripped a four foot long gash in the starboard hull of the lower deck,” the AIU responded. “The auxiliary pressure locks have engaged to seal off that deck, but we have lost life in the holding cells.”

  “Damn!” Kahmal looked at the chronometer above the view screen of a Vid-Com. “Where are we?

  How far from Montyne Vex?”

  “Three hours at our present cruising speed, Major.”

  “Computer!” the captain shouted. “Damage report!”

  “The lower deck has been sealed off, Captain, but The Aluvial has lost life support systems in bays four and five. Death toll is twenty-nine. Oxygen levels in bays six through nine are at half-capacity. No immediate danger to decks two through five, but unless the breach is repaired, the ship will implode as the pressure increases. Structural integrity is deteriorating rapidly. Loss of navigation is calculated at two hours.”

  Captain Chakai turned to the navigational officer. “Get us to the planetoid as quickly as you can, Tyrian!”

  “Aye-aye, Captain!” yelled the lieutenant.

  Captain Chakai vaulted into her command chair. “Sern,” she called out to the communications officer,

  “hail Montyne Vex.”

  Lieutenant Cirolia Sern nodded and began hailing the planetoid.

  Akkadia Kahmal took her seat beside the Captain, pressed her fingertips together and placed them under her chin. It was a habit the Major exhibited when she was troubled.

  “Tell me!” snapped the Captain.

  “I have been uneasy about our Sisters on Montyne Vex since we passed here on the way to Terra,” answered Kahmal.

  “It was so noted.”

  “I fear something has happened to them.”

  “Nonsense. They are safe and awaiting our arrival to evacuate them from the plateau.” reassured the captain, but her eyes told a different story.

  Akkadia Kahmal knew better, but wisely kept her counsel. She was heartsick, feeling a loss she would have had difficulty explaining to her fellow crewmembers. And her anxiety was rising along with the contemplation of a new problem.

  “Do not keep me wondering why you look as though the world is coming to an end, Kahmal! What troubles you?”

  “Depending on how much damage we will have sustained by the time we get to Montyne Vex, we may well be stranded there for a week or more.” The Major’s voice became husky. “Perhaps longer.”

  “We have sufficient nourishment on board to last an additional four months, Major,” Chakai grated.

  “Our Sisters on the planetoid will have additional rations.”

  “For us and for those captives in bays six through nine, aye, we do,” Akkadia replied, refusing to think about what they would find when they arrived on Montyne Vex.

  “Then what the hell are you worried about?”

  Kahmal turned her dark green gaze to her Captain. “We can not maintain the E.S.U.s during our downtime. We will need to route all available resources to the repairs.”

  “We are not...” The Captain stopped, her eyes growing wide. “Cree!”

  “Precisely.”

  “You are worried about maintaining our prisoner’s life.” Hael Sejm chuckled from the across the room.

  “The Tribunal ordered us to bring him back alive,” the Captain reminded the scientist.

  “We’ve nourishment for our beast, Thalia,” Sejm said.

  Kahmal nodded. “In cargo bays two through five.”

  “Aye,” Sejm agreed.

  The Captain shuddered, the thought of the dead Terran men littering the cargo bays providing food for the Reaper making her physically ill.

  “But we’ll still have to extract him from the E.S.U. in order to feed him,” Kahmal said. “We have no containment cell aboard The Aluvial.”

  “There is a containment cell on Montyne Vex,” said Sejm. “Or did you forget?”

  “What if the young Reaper found a way to escape our Sisters and has broken free of the containment cell?” asked Kahmal. “What if he has slaughtered our kin and is even now lurking about the caves in wait for Sustenance?”

  “Two Reapers,” whispered Melankhoia Chanz. “By the goddesses, the thought does not sit well with this warrioress!”

  “If that is the case, the young one will be the only Reaper we will have to worry about. Kamerone Cree is no threat to us in his present condition,” observed Sejm.

  “Begging your pardon, Captain,” Lt. Sern broke in, “but I ran a diagnostic of Montyne Vex and there are no lifesigns registering.”

  Kahmal flinched. “Reaper heat signature?”

  “No, Ma’am.”

  “That means they killed the young one’s parasite,” Lt. Chanz said on a long, relieved-sounding breath.

  “Praise to Aluvial for that!” Captain Chakai breathed.

  “As grieved as I am that your Sisters did not survive their encounter with the young Reaper, I must say I am relieved that he did not, either,” Sejm said, “though I was looking forward to seeing the Bloodsire’s anguish as he watched his surviving bloodsons fried to a crisp!”

  “You are an evil woman,” said Sern.

  “I am a practical woman,” Sejm responded. “I enjoy watching Cree’s pain and knowing he is that much closer to atoning for his sins. He is helpless to keep us from exacting our revenge!”

  “He is still a danger to us,” the Captain told them. “Just getting him from the E.S.U. to the containment cell could cost some of our crew their lives. He’s close to Transition, isn’t he?” Sejm shook her head. “Time in the E.S.U. will have slowed down the Transition sequence for our bloodthirsty monster. But to be on the safe side, when we land, evacuate the oxygen from his unit. That will stop his heart and brain functions long enough to break the seal and allow me to inject him with a heavy doze of neuroinhibitor.”

  “He has enough in his system now to cause potential brain damage,” Lt. Melankhoia Chanz declared.

  “Won’t oxygen deprivation along with another strong dose of the IH cause irreparable harm?”

  “Do we care?” the Captain snorted.

  “The Tribunal will care,” Kahmal replied. “They want him cognizant of what is happening to him when they send him to the guillotine.”

  “If they’d done that the first time around instead of hanging him, we would not be having this discussion!” Sejm snapped. “But to answer your question, no, it will not cause brain damage. His parasite will not allow him to be so incapacitated.”

  Kahmal looked at the scientist. The Major had studied Reaper anatomy and physiology extensively. She was an expert on the subject-fr
om what could cause the Reapers intense pain to manipulations that could bring intense pleasure. There was nothing about the Dearg Duls she did not know. Because of this, she knew Hael Sejm was lying, but she did not challenge the woman’s words.

  “This containment cell,” said Kahmal, “I am assuming has titanium bond shackles imbedded in the walls.”

  “Titanium shackles attached to ten inch thick cormax rods that have been drilled through two hundred feet of solid bedrock and anchored with triple-reinforced krilonite cement to four foot deep iron stanchions,” Sejm said.

  Chanz whistled. “Not even Cree could break free of that.”

  “The cell was designed specifically for Khiershon Cree,” Sejm reported, “and I imagine we will find the ashes of that one when we arrive.”

  Kahmal’s fierce eyes locked on Sejm, “What happens once the ship is repaired and we are ready to put him back in the E.S.U.? You can’t draw the oxygen out of the containment cell. You can’t expect him to hold still for you to inject him with another high-powered dose of IH this time around.”

  “Why not?” asked Sejm with a nasty smile.

  “You don’t have his woman’s life to threaten,” Chanz put in.

  “But we have his whore,” Sejm said in a singsong voice.

  Kahmal sat back in her chair. “Burkhart.”

  “Aye,” Sejm agreed, “and I am wagering he’ll behave just as docilely for us with a blade to Dorrie’s throat as he did to the throat of his lady.”

  The crippled shiplanded in the thick dust of Montyne Vex, causing a cloud of suffocating particles to rise up from the desert floor. As the ship’s thrusters shut off and the craft settled, a strong smell of ozone shot through the ventilation system.

  “The breech must have widened with the weight of the landing,” Chanz reported. “We’re pulling in gases from the planet’s surface.”

  “Even through the seal on the lower deck?” asked the Captain.

  “It would appear so. I’m registering heavy concentrations of ammonia and cybrilon, but the scrubbers have come on line.”

 

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