Kragen

by Chloe Cox

  Gramzy’s eyes opened wide, and Kragen knew, vaguely, what she was seeing. You could not exchange kuma without exchanging something of yourself, too. Gramzy would see, in some ways, down to his very heart, but he would take away as much of her pain as possible.

  This was acceptable.

  The space between their hands glowed briefly, and then it was done. Gramzy stared at him for another moment, and then she laughed out loud.

  “Mr. Kragen, I would call that a miracle, but I think it was more than that,” she said. There were tears gathering at the bottoms of her eyes. “Just like this apparent bond you have with my granddaughter. You Leonids are a bit more than meets the eye, aren’t you?”

  “Yes,” he said.

  “Have you healed me?”

  Kragen frowned. It was cruel not to explain before. Now he must disappoint her.

  “I have merely taken the pain away,” he said. “It is possible I might be able to heal you if my mating bond with Andromeda were consummated—”

  One of Gramzy’s eyebrows went higher than Kragen thought it was possible to go.

  “Well, what’s stopping you?” she said. “You don’t have to tell me the details, mind.”

  “Matriarch,” Kragen began. This was difficult. He had chosen not to explain this to Andromeda, because he did not wish to endanger her. But something told him Gramzy would not be satisfied with a simple “no.” And she was his mate’s matriarch, to be treated with respect.

  It was an impossible situation. He growled. Gramzy narrowed her eyes.

  “I am a condemned male,” Kragen said, his voice rough with feeling. “I have done something unforgivable, and I will continue to do it as long as I am able. I am unrepentant. That is why I am in hiding. If the Leonids find me, they will execute me, and they will be right to do it. That is why I have not claimed my mate—I refuse to condemn her, too.”

  Gramzy was unfazed.

  “Condemned?” she asked.

  “My end will be an ugly one,” Kragen said, and he would not say more about it. “The pain for my mate would be unbearable. And then when I die…”

  “And you haven’t told her this because why?”

  Kragen leaned back on the tiny couch, nearly crushing it, and regarded the matriarch. They were both hiding things from Andromeda, for perhaps similar reasons.

  “Because it is dangerous knowledge,” he finally said. “If I can find a way to sever the bond, or if I die before it is unconsummated, her suffering will be minimal, and I can hide her existence from the Leonids and the Alliance. If I cannot…”

  He left the thought unfinished. Kragen truly did not know what would happen if he failed. That was why he would not fail.

  Gramzy shook her head slowly, both out of disapproval and, Kragen saw with a smile, the desire to feel how much easier it was to move her neck now.

  “Whatever you did,” Gramzy said, looking right at him, “I know you’re a good man, now. I know it, more than I’ve known most things. I’m an old woman, and I’ve lived a good life, and I don’t need a few more years at the price of my granddaughter’s happiness. Don’t you dare tell her you could maybe heal me if she puts herself on the chopping block.”

  “I will not.”

  “Good. Now, don’t look so glum,” Gramzy said, leaning back comfortably in her chair. Her eyes danced again. “Maybe it will work out after all.”

  “What will work out?”

  Andromeda’s voice came from the top of the stairs. Even if he had not been able to sense her, even at a distance, even on triclosan, Kragen would have known she was angry.

  10

  Andie descended the stairs in a hurry. The sight of Kragen sitting—sitting! On that poor little couch! His knees were practically up by his ears, the doof—next to her grandmother, her Gramzy, having a nice talk…

  Well. It reminded Andie that there were a whole bunch of things Kragen hadn’t bother to explain to her. And that was going to stop right now.

  “Looks like Andie's got some questions,” Gramzy said mildly.

  “I do,” Andie said, and stood facing her grandmother, in her chair, and her…Leonid, who was slowly killing the couch. Then she made the mistake of looking at him.

  He rose slowly, so that every muscle group moved visibly, sliding against each other in this graceful dance of power and…

  Stop ogling him.

  Focus. You have a million questions.

  “We do not have much time, Andromeda,” Kragen said.

  “Well, I’m not leaving until you answer some questions,” she shot back, gambling, correctly, that Kragen wasn’t going to manhandle her anymore, at least not in front of her grandmother. Which was good, because Andie would melt the second he touched her.

  Instead he just glowered.

  Also, wait. Had she just agreed she was leaving?

  Andie shook her head. She said, “Starting with that cop outside. What did you do to Gary?”

  “He will recover.”

  “That’s not what I asked.”

  Kragen studied her intently. And whatever he was looking for, apparently he found it, and she passed the test. Because he started talking.

  And the things he said were insane.

  Leonids had certain abilities, but they varied by Leonid. Kragen had just put Gary to sleep, and was keeping him that way, with a little bit of effort. As soon as he stopped, Gary would wake up. And Kragen could do this because of something called kuma.

  Leonids fed off of kuma, life force, magic, mana, whatever it was—or blood, she reminded herself; he’d called it blood—their need increasing as they reached maturity. Mates sustained each other’s need in a way no one understood, even to this day, making each other stronger. As they came of age, Leonids would come into the hunger—kravok—and become slowly consumed by their desire for their mate. They had to live with that hunger until they found them.

  So Andromeda and Kragen would feel that hunger, until—unless—they consummated their bond. Unless he claimed her. Or unless he died.

  And there was an entire generation of Leonid males who did not have mates.

  “And what happens if you don’t find a mate?” Gramzy asked in a tone that reminded Andie that the woman had been a badass trial lawyer.

  Andie looked to Kragen. His eyes told her nothing. But she felt him. He was stoic on the outside, a roiling mass of volcanic emotion on the inside.

  And he slowly shook his head, just the once.

  This was not a question he would be answering.

  “Ah,” Gramzy said. “That is the question they don’t want to answer, huh?”

  “Well, I’m asking now,” Andie said. “What happens to you if this bond is severed, or whatever? What happens to me?”

  “You will be fine,” Kragen said sharply. “I have promised. I will not allow harm to come to you.”

  The first time he’d said that, Andie's knees had gone weak. But this time…

  This time she was angry.

  She steeled herself, and looked him right in the eye, and the charge of the mating bond hit her all over again. Images flashed in her mind, images of her on her knees, bound. Of Kragen disciplining her for an outburst like that, or Andie having planned it that way, of his huge hand alternating between soft and hard on her warm flesh. Of her body, arched mid-climax, completely under his command…

  Andie shook her head, and felt around for the anger she knew was there. She needed it. Because her wires were getting crossed. The sexual chemistry, the mating bond, whatever the hell it was, the essential D/s dynamic of it was seeping into everything, which was what she’d promised herself she’d avoid for the rest of her life.

  And she could see, when she looked into his eyes, that Kragen was seeing the same exact things. The hunger was messing with both of them. And Andie did not want another dangerous alpha-hole, especially not one whose dark side included actual murder basements. Even if he was the only Dom who could get her going with just a look.

  “That’s not a f
reaking answer!” Andie burst out finally. And once she said it, the words kept coming. “And it’s patronizing! ‘I won’t allow harm to come to you, I big strong alpha.’ Who gets to decide what’s harmful to me, Kragen? Because I know I get a vote, and I’m thinking literally no one else does. So until you tell me what the hell you think you’re protecting me from, and what you’re hiding in that weird murder basement, I’m checking out.”

  For the first time since they’d met, Kragen looked surprised. Hell, even Andie was surprised. She pretty much never stood up for herself like that. And for some reason, the first time she stood up for herself, it was with a giant, dominant, space-vampire warrior dude who could, at literally any time, act on that whole mating bond thing. And she knew she wouldn’t be able to say no.

  The expression on Kragen’s face was sort of funny. Like he just didn’t have a whole lot of practice at getting his ass handed to him. Well, Andie didn’t have a lot of practice in doing the ass handing, so they were even on that score. And she wasn’t going to get a better exit than this.

  “Where are you going?” he demanded.

  Andie had already turned on her heel. She needed to work off this frustration, and she needed to do it not in the immediate vicinity of Kragen.

  “I’m going to cook dinner,” she said. “A late dinner.”

  “We do not have time for this, female.”

  “Well, I didn’t get my answers,” she said over her shoulder. “So I’m not going anywhere.”

  And then Andie closed the door to the kitchen behind her. For a second she waited for Kragen to come through and bodily pick her up for another speed-run back to the warehouse, and she was mildly annoyed to find that, when he didn’t, part of her was disappointed. She somehow knew he wouldn’t, after that last taste of the bond when he’d carried her here. Or she was pretty sure.

  But she was still at war with her own body. And it wasn’t just her body. She liked Kragen. She’d…she’d seen things, every time they touched. It felt like she knew him.

  And yet, he was acting like yet another alpha-hole.

  When the door opened, it was just Gramzy. And that was comfortable. That was home. But Andie was still so frustrated and focused on cooking that it took her longer than she’d like to admit to notice that Gramzy wasn’t on her walker.

  In fact, Gramzy was happy, and smiling, and spry, in a way that she hadn’t been for months. The difference was so stark that Andie realized she hadn’t really known how much pain her grandmother was in. Or had been in.

  She was staring at her grandmother like a crazy person when Gramzy noticed. And laughed.

  “Gramzy, what…”

  Gramzy just smiled, a little wickedly. “Your Leonid friend has a few interesting tricks up his sleeve,” she said. “I believe it’s temporary, but I’m going to enjoy it while I can.”

  Andie was dumbfounded. Kragen had helped her grandmother? How? And why hadn’t he said anything?

  “When did that happen?” she said.

  “When you were upstairs,” Gramzy said. “He’s quite perceptive, for a man. Or a male, rather.”

  Andie snorted. “That has not been my experience.”

  Gramzy didn’t say anything, but for the first time in a long time, she helped Andie get dinner together. The two women carried everything out to the dining room, and, like a well-oiled machine, began setting the table.

  That lasted all of about thirty seconds.

  “Where is Kragen?” Andie asked, looking around the open—and empty, at least where Leonids were concerned—dining and living room. “No, seriously. We’d hear him if he were upstairs. He’d probably crash through the floor. You shouldn’t be able to lose a giant alien…”

  There was a pause. And then Andie realized that Gramzy was watching her very carefully.

  “That will give us some time to chat,” Gramzy said.

  Andie groaned. “It has been a long, long day.”

  “Andromeda Knowles, this is serious.”

  When Gramzy used her full name, it was definitely serious.

  “Sorry, Gramzy,” Andie said. “I know it’s serious, I just don’t know if I have anything to say.”

  “Ridiculous,” Gramzy said. “You proved you had plenty to say in there when you called him condescending. I was very proud of you, by the way.”

  That got Andie's attention. That was probably the first time Gramzy had been proud of her handling of a man situation in her entire life.

  “And that,” Gramzy went on, “is my point. You have to decide this time. I know what I think of this Kragen—I like him, and I think he’s a good man. Or male, as the case may be. But you have to decide, Andie. You know why I never liked any of the men you brought home?”

  “Because they were all jerks?”

  “Because you didn’t even like them. You put up with them for reasons I never understood, but you didn’t like them. And I trusted you. And yes, they all turned out to be jerks. But this one is different. This one you like. So you have to make a knowing choice this time.”

  “But I don’t know anything!”

  Gramzy rolled her eyes, which was, circumstances not withstanding, a delight to see.

  “That’s easy enough,” she said. “I didn’t raise a woman who can’t figure out how to make a witness talk, given enough time and motivation. So that’s not the real issue.”

  Slowly, Andie sat down. She was already tired. And now her grandmother was dropping truth bombs on her.

  “What’s the real issue?” she asked.

  “Simple,” Gramzy said, sitting beside her. “The real issue is, do you trust your own heart?”

  The words hit with the weight of uneasy truth. Of course Andie didn’t trust her own heart. Her heart had been a dummy her whole life.

  But what did that say about her?

  And was Gramzy right? Had she really known about all those other guys? Then why had she picked them?

  “Gramzy?” she said.

  “Yes, sweetheart?”

  “Where’s Kragen?”

  “Well, I wouldn’t worry about that too much,” Gramzy said, and started heaping mashed potatoes on two of the three plates. “But I believe he may have left.”

  11

  It had been a difficult decision.

  But after Andromeda’s outburst, Kragen’s natural Dominant instincts went into overdrive. If he claimed her, none of this would matter. There would be no questions that he could not answer, and no orders that he could not give. Nothing to hide from her, and no chance that she would defy him. He would give sexual commands; she would obey. She would guide him; he would listen. They would become one. And they would both enjoy the way he disciplined her.

  That was the natural order. That was what every cell in his body told him to do as she lay her demands at his feet. Throw her over his shoulder, take her up the stairs, strip away her flimsy clothing. Feel her body submit as he slid inside her, his fangs holding her in place at her neck.

  But he was a warrior. He resisted. And, like any good warrior, he surveyed the field of battle. His mate was furious that he chose to protect her, and he did not understand why. But he would.

  But first, he saw her with her grandmother. Her matriarch. And it became more and more clear to him how much he had already caused his mate to suffer. Being apart from her matriarch, at such a time, knowing what Kragen knew…it would bring Andromeda great pain. It already had brought her pain.

  None of this was acceptable.

  So Kragen had, in those moments when Andromeda had left him alone with Gramzy once again, made a decision.

  “I have need of your detergent,” Kragen said. “All of it. I cannot promise to repay you.”

  Gramzy had looked at him with a knowing look he was beginning to find familiar.

  “Kragen, you made me feel twenty years younger,” Gramzy said. “I don’t know how long that’s going to last, but it’s priceless. Take whatever you want.”

  Kragen had nodded. He had not anticipate
d finding a mate, and so he needed a new plan. If it didn’t work, he would come back for her before the hunger began to torment her. If it did work, she would be fine. And Kragen would find a way to give her a life without the hunger.

  “Just one thing,” Gramzy had said. “What are you doing with it?”

  Kragen had locked eyes with her one more time, and he’d deliberately let his guard down. Let her see how much he meant what he was about to say.

  “What I have to do,” he’d said, “to protect your granddaughter.”

  And then he’d left.

  Kragen had put a shallow layer of psychic protection over Gramzy’s house as he’d left; it would only last as long as he was conscious, but that should be long enough. He removed his lock on the mind of Gary Borden as he walked carefully down the fragile wooden steps, and then he was gone.

  Without Andromeda, it took him mere minutes to run back to the warehouse. None of the alarms he’d set had been triggered; the lair remained undetected. And he was just in time for the next injection.

  First, he set about the rather simple process of distilling more of the pure triclosan from the quantity of detergent that Gramzy had given him. There was just enough left over from his old supply for what he had in mind tonight, but by tomorrow…

  He’d need more if his plan were to work.

  And his plan was to keep himself heavily drugged, with triclosan burning away in his veins, so that he could free Andromeda from the “tether” of their mating bond. At least until Kragen could find out if his gambit had worked. And if it failed…

  Either way, if he died before the bond was consummated, her suffering would be temporary. It shamed him deeply that that might be the best he could do, but he did not let that cloud his judgment. He would face his own failures as surely as any enemy. And Andromeda would not suffer for them.

  Kragen growled slightly against the pain, and injected himself with the largest dose of triclosan yet.

  That should give her relief. That should allow her to live her own life with nothing more than a shadow of the hunger until Kragen could find some solution, one way or the other.