Malachi offered his explanation with a shrug, but he sensed Zade did on some level believe him.
“I find it most interesting, but concede it is hard to take it in,” Dorian replied.
“Well, it shouldn’t be. My story is unimpressive and typical of those who crave unlimited power. In corporeal form I ruled all, or so I believed in my naïveté. There were some priests and priestesses of the Creators of All on my planet who were in hiding. I had killed as many as I could find in my lifetime, mostly out of an innate fear of their spirituality,” Malachi explained. “I suppose this confirms my evil nature to you.”
Dorian shrugged. “Fearing the spiritual does not make you evil. I fear it myself. I fear it so much that I have brought it into me so I can understand it and cease fearing. The divine spark of the Creators lives in all creatures but burns within the spirits of some beings, like me. Or Ania. She is the most spiritual being I have ever known.”
“Yes. Like Ania. The priests and priestesses were like her. How odd that I never made that connection before,” Malachi said slowly, considering it. His presence in Ania was very much emulating what happened in his past. He would have to give the parallel more thought.
“I did not mean to interrupt your story. Please continue,” Dorian said, wanting to hear the rest and wishing he could record it.
“Though I took the life of many, I had not managed to kill them all. Fulfilling some ancient prophesy of cleansing our planet of all evil—of which mine was legendary—the emissaries of the Creators, what your charming Earthling mate would probably refer to as ‘avenging angels,’ merged with the physical forms of those who served the Creators. The possessed entities, now part energy and part physical form, became virtually all powerful,” Malachi said, remembering. “Ironically, those I wanted to kill ended up with the fate I craved.”
“All powerful?” Zade asked. “Is that even possible?”
“They spoke softly and merely waved their hand to manifest their will into reality. Yet they did only what was commanded of them to do with us. I remember the day of my conversion like it just happened moments ago. My particular punisher stood in front of me, the fates of me and all my people in her control. Yet all I could do was feel envy for her abilities. My mind was filled with lust for such great power, and I sought eagerly to attain it.”
Fascinated with Malachi’s story, Dorian had to pull his attention away to contact the Paladin and request permission to dock. Once permission was granted, he turned his attention back to Malachi. “You do not sound resentful of your fate. Instead, you sound in awe.”
“A very astute observation, Lieutenant,” Malachi said agreeably, “that’s exactly what I felt then and still feel. I floated above my punisher’s head, staring down with demon mist vision at my lifeless corporeal form at her feet. Even then, I had no comprehension of anything but the enormous power she held over me. I wanted to possess it badly. I still do. She made me watch my corporeal body rot. I never mourned it, but I did memorize it well enough to shape my mist form into it when I chose to do so.”
“What happened next?” Dorian asked, wanting to know as much as he could before they landed, morbidly fascinated at Malachi’s take on the things that happened to him. It was very different from the legends.
Malachi laughed as he studied the Siren with new interest. “My nature did not change. I set about trying to use my new situation to my advantage of course. I felt very much like you did when you learned the Pleiadian words of power and first used them to subdue an enemy. My demon mist form gave me the same sort of exquisite sense of myself as invincible.”
“How do you know my intimate thoughts about my abilities? Oh, right, I keep forgetting you were inside me while I was being abducted,” Dorian said, frowning.
“Don’t worry, Lieutenant,” Malachi said, grinning at the spiritual male’s sudden withdrawal. Not many people could face their dark side well. Ania was rare in that. She did not fear her own darkness, rather openly constrained it. “That tiny bit of power madness in you is barely a speck on the cloak of your very pure and genuine spiritual nature. You need not fear that the quest for ultimate power will ever rule you as it did me.”
“Indeed,” Dorian said flatly. “That concern never crossed my mind. Ever.”
Malachi laughed at Zade’s discomfort but did not press more. It had been a long time since he’d thought of his conversion to demon mist. Perhaps it was uppermost in his mind lately because of finally being in a host body all alone. It wasn’t quite the same as having his original form, but the life he had in Conor Synar’s empty shell was close.
He listened to Zade ask permission to board the Paladin. Permission received, they docked easily inside the hull of the giant vessel. They were waved along by a docking crew of general crewmen, not even ensigns, acknowledging the insignia on their uniform shirts with hasty nods. Since no one had come to escort them, they walked through the docking bay, looking around on their own, which was fine by him, Malachi decided.
Directions about where to go on the ship had been included in their orders. Noticing the amount of people in the docking bay and all the activity going on, Dorian had the realization that it had been a long time since he’d been on a Guardian level cruiser. The Liberator felt like little more than a large shuttle next to a ship as big as this one.
Malachi twisted and turned in every direction, glancing around him in pleased surprise. “Liam simply has to get one of these. I bet the crew rooms are as large as the captain’s quarters.”
Despite himself, Dorian laughed at Malachi’s exclamation. “Guardian level ships are costly to produce. They don’t hand this type of ship out often, not even to a demon master captain with an excellent rescue record.”
“What do they hand them out for then?” Malachi asked.
“Meritorious service—otherwise known as performing a military miracle. Rumor says a captain only gets this kind of ship after coming back from the dead,” Dorian said softly, nodding to the crew who nodded at them as they walked through the docking bay.
“Tough one,” Malachi replied, smiling. “In Liam’s judgment, a miracle for the Liberator is not having any crew members abducted during a mission. With such low standards, our crew is probably in for a long wait, wouldn’t you say?”
He felt rewarded when the usually very serious Siren laughed in reply to his irreverent comment. Perhaps he should be concerned about his growing addiction to causing amusement in the beings he routinely interacted with on the ship. It was one more odd habit he’d picked up since inhabiting Conor’s body.
“Come on,” Dorian said tightly, stifling his urge to laugh more. “Let’s get your stasis unit and our new lieutenant. I’m looking forward to having more than one sleep cycle off with my mate every four days.”
“Oh, yes,” Malachi agreed, appreciating that sentiment. “I can see how that would make a mated Siren keen on adding another officer to the crew. By the way, how are you planning to introduce me? I can’t believe that discussion wasn’t in all the rest of the lectures I got before we left.”
Dorian smiled then because he couldn’t prevent showing pleasure with his companion any longer. He was finding it astounding to be enjoying Malachi’s company so much. “Senior Medic Malachi Synar, who just happens to be kin of the captain. It explains much about your similar appearance and yet says nothing that is not a truth. I find it best to avoid lying whenever possible.”
“Well done then. I shall endeavor to make Liam proud to have me called his kin, since he was so adamant about not calling me his brother,” Malachi stated firmly. “And I do believe I like the sound of that title. ‘Senior Medic.’ Yes. I do like it.”
“As well you should, it is practically the top position of your new field. Senior Medics often serve in the place of doctors on ships,” Dorian explained, pressing the elevator to head to the conference room where they were scheduled to meet with members of the Paladin crew.
“That’s even better,” Malachi replied. �
�That means I’m practically Chiang’s equal in rank now. How ironic is that? I just started working for him. Serves Chiang right for insisting I learn rank protocol. I shall save that taunt for an appropriate time.”
Zade felt another laugh coming on but dared not set it free. He had no quarrel these days with the Greggor, but he couldn’t help enjoying the fact that the demon routinely tormented Chiang with mind games.
The elevator door slid open, and they both stepped out onto their appointed floor. Malachi’s eyes blazed suddenly, and he reached out with a firm grip on Zade’s arm to hold him back.
“Demon,” he said succinctly, because it was the one word that both fit and was sure to gain full attention. “There is one nearby.”
Dorian wrinkled his eyebrows, gaze scanning but seeing no threat. “Are you jesting with me?”
“No,” Malachi answered coldly, lips pressed into a line. “There is another me somewhere on this ship, perhaps this deck. The energy signature is distinctly demon. Proceed with caution while I endeavor to discover the identity and location. It is a harder process while inhabiting a physical form, but I will try to be quick.”
“Your assistance is greatly appreciated, since I have no wish to go to the Creators today,” Dorian said sincerely, bracing himself and walking forward, with Malachi only a few steps behind.
***
“Seta—stay. It’s not too late to change your mind.”
Captain Ji Warro was embarrassed to hear himself actually pleading with the stoic female. Where was his pride? Despite his disappointment in her not returning his personal interest, he also didn’t want to lose her skills. There was no better tracker. He had worked hard to lure her to the Paladin before he ever knew her. Perhaps his reasons for wanting her to stay were more complicated than his original interest, but that had nothing to do with her tracking skills.
“We have had this discussion many times, Captain. My decision remains the same. It is time for me to leave,” Lieutenant Seta Trax replied as respectfully she could to her Siren captain who had gone from yelling at her to begging. What more could she say to him? She hoped her new crew members would appear soon, and rescue her from the awkward conversation she had not been able to avoid yet another time today.
It had been hard work to stay neutral about her superior’s unwanted bonding advances over the past year of her commission on the Paladin. She had even confessed her lack of interest in any sort of bonding at all with any male, trying to specifically discourage him. Like most males in her limited experience, Ji Warro believed himself capable of being her exception. But he wasn’t, and Seta had no intentions of ever aligning herself to him. Her adamant resistance kept her Siren superior angry with her.
“You are not unhappy here,” Ji said, making it a statement instead of a question, and then practically daring her to refute it by glaring hard at her lack of expression. More, he was hoping Seta would give him an excuse to put his hands on her, because it was all he could do to stop himself from doing so, permission or not.
“No, Captain. I have been quite happy here under your command. It has been an honor to serve on your ship.”
Seta searched for the right balance of deference to soothe the frustrated male vibrating in front of her. Besides, she was speaking no more than the truth.
Serving on the Paladin was undemanding, and yes—the work had often lacked challenges. Still, Seta might have been bored at times, but she couldn’t honestly say she had ever been unhappy in her current position. When she had announced that she was leaving, most of her fellow officers remarked that she’d obviously lost control of her common sense. In their opinion, no one willingly left the luxury of serving on a Guardian level vessel with several thousand others. It was like working in a floating city in space.
Perhaps it bothered her that Ji Warro obviously thought her rash professional decision was about escaping him, but Seta knew her aversion to his personal interest had little to do with her decision. She was being compelled by a larger instinct too insistent to ignore that was telling her to leave the Paladin and join the Liberator. Her spirit would allow her no peace without doing so. Even her enlightened twin sister had encouraged her to make this move, though Rena professed not to be able to intuit why.
After dreaming several times about what others considered a nonsensical career move, Seta could accurately describe the tiniest corners of the Liberator, the small rescue ship she had yet to set foot on. The last time those kinds of dreams had come so strongly, Seta had ended up in the Rylen Cadet Academy. Shortly after, she and Rena had been hopping across the universe on various assignments until coming at last to serve on several Peace Alliance ships, each larger and more prestigious than the last.
Seta’s growing skills as a tracker had managed to move them into the well-paid commissioned job on the much sought after Guardian level vessel and into a room big enough for them to have separate beds. Rena got to pursue her spiritual studies unhindered. For the last year, it had seemed like they were finally to have some genuine peace in their lives.
But peace, Seta was learning, was often no more than a passing moment you had convinced yourself was without conflict. The last time she had been so strongly compelled, she and Rena had fled their home planet to escape their father’s attempts to marry them to wealthy neighboring landowners as part of a profit bargain for keeping peace. If that had been allowed to happen, they would have likely never seen each other again. As daughters forty and forty-one of over a hundred for trade or barter, they had no bargaining power with their father, nor would matches have been made according to their wishes. That fact had been made very clear long before the last betrothals that had caused them to flee.
When they had been a few years younger, their father had traded them as a pair, swapping them for goods during hard economic times on their planet of Ethos. Though Seta could not clearly recall doing so, Rena said she had killed their new owner in self-defense to keep him from violating the two of them. To cover the deed, Rena had woven a clever lie that had allowed them to return to the safety of their father’s protection, with no loss of income to the family. It was the last lie Rena had ever told, as well as the only time Seta had ever killed. Unfortunately, that hard won peace had lasted only a few years, until her father’s plans to use them again caused them to flee their planet.
Now their time on Ethos seemed very long ago and like a dream.
“Seta, I insist you tell me what holds your attention. You are not responding to any of my statements. I am offering you a chance to forget this madness. Your mind seems to have already left the ship.”
Seta bowed her head respectfully to the angered male. “Forgive me, Captain Warro. I thought I sensed someone outside the conference room door listening to our conversation. I was trying to intuit if I was correct.”
A knock on the door raised Ji’s eyebrow. “Of course you are correct. Almost nothing gets by those bloody pointed ears of yours. I said I will promote you to the next grade of Lieutenant and give Rena her own private quarters if you stay on the Paladin.”
“Your offer is most generous,” Seta stated, bowing her head again. “But I must decline. Captain Synar has a great need for my services, so the Peace Alliance is allowing me to switch ships. I’ve already accepted his invitation. I will only return if he declines my contract after our interview.”
“Very well,” Ji said, bowing his head one final time. “If Synar does so, or you become displeased with your new job, contact me. My terms for your return will not be as favorable, but I will allow it. Shades of Kellnor, you infuriate me with your lack of emotions. There is no other like you. Perhaps in many ways I will be glad to see you gone.”
Seta didn’t know what to say to her captain’s parting remarks, especially when they sounded more like a threat than anything else. Nor did she know how to respond to his jab about being glad to be rid of her.
So she blinked at him calmly as he stalked by her, shoving her arm aside. She watched his rigid back as he st
omped to the door and wondered if what he said might be true. Was she lacking in real emotions? Perhaps she needed to ask Rena about Warro’s complaints.
Warro opened the door on the two men standing there getting ready to knock and held it open for them to enter.
“Take her,” Ji ordered, sneering at their surprise, knowing they had no idea what prize they were leaving with today. “Lieutenant Trax seems quite anxious to go serve on your tiny ship.”
Both Dorian’s eyebrows shot into the air as the angry male brushed between Malachi and him, not extending the common courtesy of a professional greeting. By the rules of the Peace Alliance, all ship’s officers were peers regardless of the size of the vessel. Normally the rudeness would have instantly raised his own anger, but after Warro’s sharp statements, Dorian was now very curious about the female he noticed waiting patiently in the middle of the conference room.
His shock was greater when he saw Malachi’s eyes glowing as the demon walked briskly past him, striding in defiance over to the female.
“Malachi—wait. Stop.”
From doing what, Dorian wasn’t sure, but he feared the demon would do something rash because that had been the case every time his eyes took on that red haze. He looked briefly at his wrist com unit and thought about calling the Liberator for help. Stopping in front of the female, Malachi stood glaring while she stared innocently back.
Something odd was going on, Dorian thought, but he sensed no imminent danger from anything but Malachi unleashing his wrath. He shut the conference room door behind him and started toward the female himself.
“She is the one I sensed. It is in her,” Malachi said flatly. “I am forbidden to harm without your permission, Lieutenant Zade. Be quick. I think I can still save you and my host body. She seems to be waiting on me to make a move.”
Zade put a hand on Malachi’s arm. “Calm yourself and check your information. Are you certain this is a threat?”
Malachi looked at the female, her gaze confused but unalarmed as it held his. The energy signature was right. The female was obviously a demon host, even though she had taken no action so far. It was likely she was being kept unaware, which meant also somewhere nearby was a master.
The Healer's Kiss: Book Four of the Forced To Serve Series Page 5
