When he lifted his hand, the mark was completely outlined in silver. Deciding to take that as their approval, Malachi smiled over his work. “May the Creators guide and protect you on your mission,” he said as he finished, smacking her once on her shapely rear as he moved away from the table.
Boca sat up and quickly yanked her tunic back on. “What rapport do you have with the Creators that you would call on them directly? I thought you hated them for what they did to you.”
Malachi picked up the marking wands and remaining ink, being as conservative as he could be with it. He wasn’t done marking yet.
“Did I ever say I hated the Creators? No, I did not. You might be surprised at my relationship to them, especially lately. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a date. I have to go see the delightful Trax siblings in their private quarters. Captain Synar has decided they are both to get a mark as well. Want to come along and help protect my host body? Rena doesn’t like me.”
Boca watched Malachi gathering up everything to take with him. She frowned at his friendly conversation, ashamed of her overreaction to his request earlier.
“I’m sorry if I have not seemed grateful. It’s not that I don’t appreciate your concern for me,” she said quietly. “I just…Shades of Kellnor. Being disrespectful in light of your willingness to ask the Creators for my safe return is without excuse. It is not my place to judge your agreements with them.”
Malachi tilted his head to the side and contemplated Boca’s repentant expression. Why had he never noticed how sensitive females were before Ania? Boca honestly thought her words had hurt him. She was as sensitive as Gwen about such things.
“Apology accepted. After all the time I spend teasing you, I don’t blame you for being skeptical of my motives. I swear it is only for your greater good. Now I would advise you to hide your mark from the hot-tempered Greggor until you are on Lotharius. But choose your own fate. You know I don’t fear him.”
After Malachi left, Boca reached over her shoulder through the opening in her shirt and touched the mark she couldn’t see. Her fingers tingled with energy as she pulled them away, but there was no ink on them.
“Slaggika,” she spat, sliding off the bed. “What demon would willingly pray to the Creators who cursed him? I fear them, even though they have been kind to me.”
Yet even as she complained, Boca felt their blessing washing over her. She could only concede that Malachi’s request for her had been answered.
Shaking her head at how strange everyone was acting lately, Boca set about cleaning up the medical tables in case they ended up with patients. She would pretend her mark didn’t exist until it was needed. Malachi’s serious demeanor helped her trust him. And she already knew she was going to need all the help she could get on the mission.
***
“This is such a small matter that I am willing to risk his wrath. If you want a different mark than what the captain chose, just tell me,” Malachi said, smiling at the Liberator’s new demon-powered lieutenant, who was frowning.
“What does a symbol matter? Do as you will. I’ll have you remove it before I leave the Liberator for my next duty station,” Seta said.
“As you wish.” Malachi carefully painted the outline for the symbol of the Creators on Seta Trax’s upper arm. “Are you settling in well, Lieutenant?”
“As much as is possible on this tiny ship,” Seta answered quickly, frowning at having revealed her disdain to the sharp-tongued medic, even if he seemed much friendlier lately.
“Don’t worry, Lieutenant,” Malachi said, finishing the symbol with a flourish. It was the third time he had drawn it that day, and he had one more to go. “Your opinions are safe with me. I am used to keeping my own counsel on nearly everything.”
Across the room, Rena huffed out a breath at the ridiculous conversation, not to mention the wasted effort to mark bodies that were not destined to last much longer. She met and held Malachi’s knowing gaze.
“I fear your sibling does not believe my words are sincere, Lieutenant Trax,” he said, still looking at Rena, who crossed her arms and glared at him.
“Perhaps I have reasons,” Rena said sharply.
“Really? Have I not kept your confidences so far, Rena Trax?” Malachi asked, emphasizing the name she used that technically wasn’t hers.
“Only so far as it has served you to do so,” Rena agreed flatly.
Malachi blew on Seta’s mark, setting the ink with demon energy, grinning when Seta’s eyes momentarily turned a hazy white in recognition.
“Tell me again, Medic. Why must my sibling have a mark as well?” Seta asked, feeling a power surge from where the medic was touching her. He had the most interesting energy of anyone on the ship. “Rena does not go on missions with me.”
“Two of our crew members were abducted recently by slave traders who had stolen a supply ship. It took us weeks to find them. Captain Synar is not going to let that happen again,” Malachi explained. “I believe he sees the two of you as a valuable pair that needs to be protected.”
“They risked abducting passengers from your ship? Were the captives that valuable to the traders?” Seta asked incredulously, pulling her arm around to inspect the mark when Malachi finished. Standing, she walked to her mirrors where she could get a better view.
“The captives were both Sirens. Lieutenant Zade and his mother were both sold into bonding slavery on Terris Rein. But we freed them—eventually,” Malachi said, motioning for Rena to come sit on the bed where Seta had been moments before. “Commander Jet discovered their location during a meditation. She can be surprisingly intuitive despite being mostly an Earthling.”
Rena walked to the bed and sat uneasily on the edge of it. She fought to not pull away when Malachi reached out and wrapped one of his large hands around her arm. Seeing him dip the laser wand into the marking ink, she forced herself to enter a calmer state. She had no problem with his task. The mark would not change her fate and she refused to let the flutters in the host body worry her.
“My assumption is that as a spiritual seeker, you will welcome the opportunity to wear the symbol of the Creators of All,” Malachi said, squeezing Rena’s arm tightly enough to prevent an easy escape.
“Like Seta, I have no preference. I will have the mark Captain Synar chose,” Rena agreed.
“Solra Kokum Ynati,” Malachi chanted out loud as he drew the outline of it on Rena’s skin. The ink set immediately but turned a brilliant blue. “Well, aren’t you special? That’s a very nice color.”
Rena stared at the strokes of black that turned the bright color almost as instantly as they were absorbed. “I must have a deformity.”
Malachi laughed and had to quit painting until he composed himself. “Stop joking or I’m never going to get this done.”
“I was not joking,” Rena said hotly.
Malachi met and held her gaze until she looked away. His body reacted as if she had stroked him to an aroused state. Ignoring it, he sighed and resumed painting.
“Don’t you think the Creators of All have a sense of humor? Maybe blue is their favorite color,” he suggested, mostly for the purpose of seeing her frown.
Rena huffed out another breath, exasperated at his coded statements. Not that Seta was going to notice. Seta was more concerned with how her mark looked when she flexed her muscle. “I’m sure I don’t know what the Creators are really like.”
Malachi leaned closer, pretending to inspect his work. “Liar,” he whispered softly, moving his breath along her ear until she shivered. Then he noticed the luminous quality of her cheek and the fine development of her facial features. He got lost imagining the pleasure of running his tongue up to the tip of her pointed ear, adding it to the growing list of debauchery his physical lust was generating.
When Rena gave him a knowing look, Malachi laughed again and turned his attention back to drawing the mark. “Sorry. I find you quite distracting.”
“But not me?” Seta asked boldly from across the room,
walking away from the series of three mirrors she had installed on the miniscule standing clothes chest she was forced to share with Rena. The mirrors at least allowed her to see her whole self but were far from the mirrored panel on the Paladin that doubled as a visual com unit.
“Tell me the truth, Medic. Are Rena and I not similarly attractive? People usually think we compare more precisely than average dual-births.”
Malachi smiled at Seta’s very youthful female urge to compete for his attention. She was even more childlike in her reactions than Gwen. Where did Liam find these creatures?
“Indeed, that is a profound truth. But it is your sister’s—”
He couldn’t say energy. Though the statement would be absolutely truthful, Seta might take it wrong since the Ethosian lieutenant was a tracker who specialized in following energy. It would only hurt her ego to know how poorly trained in reading real energy she was. He smiled at the earnest confusion lighting her face, perhaps feeling a little sorry for her. If she were more in touch with her inner entity, her skills would rise to a completely different level.
“I believe it is Rena’s calm spiritual demeanor that draws me to her,” Malachi said finally, the lie rolling as easily off his tongue as any ever had. He smiled again at the frowning Seta Trax before turning a challenging gaze on the creature next to him. “Though I am sure the average male would be equally impressed with you both, the truth is your sibling is unique to me.”
“Indeed? Well as a concerned fellow crew member, I feel I must warn you about Rena’s nature then, Medic. My sibling is not nearly as calm as she appears,” Seta said on a laugh. “Frankly, you are the first male to favor her over me in a very long time. Most find Rena too intense.”
“Your comments betray your jealous nature, Seta. When have we ever been in competition? From my perspective, we have not ever been,” Rena said tightly, trying to ignore the warmth in her gut as Malachi’s approving gaze met hers.
“I have no doubts that you draw more than your share of admirers, Lieutenant Trax,” Malachi said, leaning over Rena’s arm and blowing on the now finished mark. “You have a nature that is very appealing, especially when your emotional fire is lit and burning brightly.”
Rena’s skin rippled beneath Malachi’s fingers, and her gaze flew to his in alarm. Though he spoke to Seta, she had the oddest sensation his words were meant more for her. He smiled at her discomfort while he continued speaking to Seta.
“In fact, I would say you and I are kindred spirits of a sort, Lieutenant. We feel in competition with everyone. I imagine you fight most fiercely when roused as well.”
“Indeed I do,” Seta agreed, coming to inspect her sister’s mark. “How long are you planning to hold Rena’s arm and blow on ink that is already dry? If you are quite done fondling her, I would like to seek food before having to prepare for my bridge duty this evening.”
“Seta, stop that,” Rena warned, hearing the brash tempered female winding up for a round of complaining about having to do bridge duty. “Can you not see he is almost finished?”
Malachi laughed softly again, but he finally dropped her arm. “I’m not nearly finished with you, but I suppose this will have to do for now. I would not risk earning your sibling’s ire because of her empty stomach.”
“Would you like to come to the evening meal with us, Medic?” Seta asked pointedly, just to see Rena glare at her in disbelief over the invitation.
Malachi smiled, not missing Seta’s attempt to win at sibling rivalry if not at holding his interest. “Thank you for the kind offer, but I have night duty myself. I have to go prepare. Enjoy your evening, Lieutenant. Rena, blessings on your journey.”
He watched Rena straighten in surprise at his formal well-wishing. Nodding to each of them separately, and holding Rena’s gaze longer than was necessary or polite, Malachi finally looked away as he slipped quietly out their door.
Rena reached out and smacked Seta in the shoulder. “Provoking the medic was quite unnecessary.”
Seta laughed. “Do you know how extremely happy it makes me to see my stoic sister being the one pursued by an inappropriate male? That is almost worth coming to this dreadfully tiny ship to see. I can’t believe I am envious of you for once.”
Rena let out the frustrated breath she had been holding. The Demon of Synar’s presence always unnerved her, but Seta could never know that. Complaining would not help distract Seta.
“Malachi’s attention is not a problem for me,” Rena declared firmly.
“If the Norblade male’s attention meant nothing, you wouldn’t already be saying his real name,” Seta replied, holding the door open for her irritated sibling. “You are Ethosian and not given to quick familiarity. You never even used Warro’s name on the Paladin. You called him ‘arrogant captain’ and ‘insufferable male’ all the time.”
“That was a completely different situation—trust me,” Rena said tightly.
“Rena, listen to yourself. Why can’t you just admit that those vows you took are unnatural? For all its negative points, one positive of my new position is that the Liberator is full of attractive and unmated males. There are many who might be appropriate for even you. Lots of Greggors, Rena. I know you like Greggors. I see you stealing looks at the doctor all the time.”
“The doctor is meant for the Sumerian healer. And I have no need of any male,” Rena said. “You may have them all, Seta. Find a bonding partner and enjoy yourself. Life can be fleeting, especially serving on an active rescue ship.”
“In good time I will find one that pleases me,” Seta declared. “One day I’ll figure out how to move past the aversion I have for taking a bonding partner. For now, I will just enjoy living vicariously through you as you handle Malachi’s infatuation.”
“He is not infatuated with me,” Rena denied.
“He most certainly is,” Seta argued. “And Malachi Synar is a good-looking male for a Norblade. Do you not think so?”
Rena could not lie outright. The denial wouldn’t leave her tongue. “Cease your teasing debate. It serves no good for either of us.”
“I have never seen you show the least bit of interest in a male on all the ships we’ve been on. It is very entertaining to watch you return one’s interest,” Seta said.
Rena’s tongue loosened then. “I am not returning his interest. Physical things are only temporary. They matter not to the endless spirit.”
“You just keep telling yourself that, Rena,” Seta said, pointing in the direction they needed to go. She had figured out the Liberator’s entire layout in the first hour onboard. “I know what I saw. I thought for a moment there the medic was going to lick your face. He was eyeing your neck and ear very suspiciously. And he was all but leaning on you. I didn’t see you pulling your arm free when he was blowing his hot breath on it either. I got very tingly when he did that to me. Are you going to lie about your own reaction?”
“You are imagining all manner of things that are not true,” Rena denied, frowning at the memory of Malachi whispering in her ear. It lingered still in her mind as much as his demon breath lingered in Seta’s.
The physical form she was in hadn’t been handled by a male in many years until just before the spirit reached the crisis point and left it. Why was she even allowing the demon’s attention to unsettle her? She could control the urges of the physical body she was in, even if she had not been corporeal this long in centuries.
And leaning? What did that mean? It was nothing—an inclining of the body. Why was Seta trying to worry her about Malachi’s intentions?
To be safe, Rena searched the storied memories of her host body for bonding preliminaries but came up with nothing. When the original Rena Trax had returned to the Creators, she had taken the best of her life’s memories with her. All that remained in the cell memory of her abandoned physical form were the much less pleasant ones of the final male who had given her to a group for their use.
“Well, don’t let Malachi do anything to the tips of your ears,�
�� Seta warned. “He’ll figure out your control center and have you begging for bonding in three seconds. I don’t think the irreverent medic would be worth you breaking your vows.”
“At last, we agree on something,” Rena said, sighing when she heard Seta laugh.
Chapter 10
“How tight is the fit?” Chiang asked, studying her gaze to make sure she was being truthful with him.
“It is only a little uncomfortable,” Boca replied dryly, putting her hands over his, which were exploring her neck, chin, and chest. Chiang’s innocent touch today made her just as nervous as the first time he had put his large hands on her. “Isn’t it supposed to be tight?”
“Yes. Too much movement will rub and cause a friction rash,” Chiang explained, walking to the work bench. “Comfort is important. I intend for you to wear the Xendrin collar the whole time we are on Lotharius. We may be there for days. If we need to escape in a hurry, the explosives hidden in it might be necessary.”
“It contains explosives?” Boca asked, swallowing at how much tighter it felt just knowing that fact.
“None are in it at the moment. And they require a considerable amount of force to use, so they will not go off accidentally,” Chiang said, frowning at her alarm.
Boca held his gaze for a few long moments, the trepidation Chiang always felt about the mission within it. “If that is the case, then I shall wear the collar continuously for the next few days to get used to it.”
She picked up the remote and walked it to Chiang, holding it out for him to take. “Here. Test the current flow to make sure it works.”
Chiang shook his head. “No need. It was set for Gwen, and I have dialed it down a bit more. Actually—it’s on the lowest setting that still emulates a real collar.”
Boca shook the remote at him. “Test it. I am ready this time and prepared for the pain. I believe you have done all you can to spare me as much as possible, but I want to master this.”
The Healer's Kiss: Book Four of the Forced To Serve Series Page 12
