“True,” Boca admitted. “It is an expletive in my native language. On my planet, I am considered an unpleasant female. Are you surprised I am so bold?”
“Surprised by the boldness of a female who can give me many simultaneous pleasure eruptions in sequence? You can talk any way you wish. Not even the Sirens I’ve…well, let’s just say your talents are unique in my experience,” Chiang said, easing his weight off her as he gently withdrew from inside.
“I’m better than a Siren? Indeed—that is a profound truth,” Boca agreed, drunkenly imitating Dorian Zade as she leaned forward and wrapped her arms around Chiang’s shoulders as he laughed. “Can you carry me to bed now? I think I am too weak to walk.”
Taking a deep breath to bear her weight and his, Chiang reached to turn off the cleansing spray that had been forgotten. Then he stepped away from the wall, his hands cupped securely under the treasure he carried to his bed.
“May I sleep in my tunic?” Boca asked as they passed through where she had folded and laid her clothes on his desk.
Chiang stopped, snagged up her top with one hand, passing it to her as they continued walking. By the time they reached the bed, Boca had wiggled the tunic over her head. It made him laugh.
“If you are cold, I can warm you up again,” he whispered.
“I’m just feeling…exposed. I need the comfort tonight,” Boca said, not wanting to risk the peace between them with a disclosure of deceit, even such a minor one as Malachi had extracted from her.
When Chiang crawled into bed with her still wrapped around him, Boca starting singing a soothing chant. Chiang stretched out, head on a pillow, arranging her on top of him. He pulled her hair out of her shirt and stroked it, soothing her back and hips that also reaped the benefit of his strokes. She could tell it gave them both a sweet pleasure to simply touch so freely. Perhaps she had been fighting this too hard.
Boca sang in Sumerian, letting the chanting fill the room with sweetness and relaxation. She had sung males to sleep many times, been ordered to do so, but never one she actually cared about getting his rest. For the first time, her caring for Chiang made her wonder if she had ever had a sincere compassion for Rogan at all. She had slipped out of her Sumerian mate’s bed frequently to rest alone. Yet all she wanted tonight was to fall asleep with Chiang stroking her hair.
Eventually though, he stopped stroking. His even breathing revealing that he had fallen asleep. It made her smile against his chest.
“I still don’t think this is going to end well, but I thank you for your care of me,” Boca whispered, letting the regular breathing of the male beneath her lull her into sleep as well.
***
Malachi was signing off the duties for the evening when Seta Trax appeared in the doorway of Medical.
“Good evening, Lieutenant Trax,” he said in greeting. “Are you in need of medical aid?”
“No. I am well,” Seta said firmly as she smiled. “I have night bridge duty and am very bored. Would you consider spending some time with me?”
“I’ve already admitted to an interest in your sibling, Lieutenant. Given the nature of your culture and the rules I follow of the Creators, I’m afraid I must decline the pleasure of your offer,” Malachi said, grinning as he completed his tasks of prepping both medical tables for whoever the unfortunate next patients might be. He had run Boca off before she had completed them.
“Do not be an arrogant male. I’m not asking you for bonding, Medic. I just want to talk. The ensigns on the bridge are too easily intimidated to speak freely. And they are not half as interesting,” Seta said. “I assure you my interest is platonic.”
“I am teasing. As an intuitive, I am well aware you don’t really like me, so I find it hard to believe your interest serves a positive purpose. I have read that the Ethosian culture is bred for polite inquiries, but we can just skip those between us if you like. What’s on your mind, Lieutenant?” Malachi asked.
Seta debated for a few seconds about the wisdom of time spent with the irreverent, way-too-sharp male, then sighed because she was still compelled to pursue getting to know him better. Instinct said the irritating male possessed knowledge of many secrets. Before convincing him to share them with her, first she needed to gain his trust. Her odd intuition about him baffled her, but Seta had failed so far to root it out of her will.
The fact that she was willing to tolerate his amusement was reason enough to frown, so she did. “I do have some concerns about being on the ship. Take a walk with me. I will even make it an order if I must. I’ve left directions on the bridge to be contacted if I’m needed,” she explained.
“Very well,” Malachi said finally. “I’ve finished the basic tasks anyway. If you insist on my company, I will comply this once.”
As they stepped into the hall, Seta looked up expecting to see derision but was met with a surprisingly neutral gaze.
“I don’t understand this empathetic response you evoke in me, Medic. And I am also curious as to why you seem to provoke a quite different reaction in Rena. She and I tend to share opinions on most males. We have no accord about you at all,” Seta complained.
Malachi made a face, trying hard not to grin at the thought of their discussions. How he wished he had hidden in their room as mist and listened.
“So I’m interesting enough for you and Rena to talk about me?” he asked with a smile.
Seta snickered. “Do not sound so hopeful. It was only in passing. Rena mostly refuses, but I sense you disturb her equilibrium.”
Malachi laughed at Seta’s word choice. How disturbed could he possibly make an emissary of the Creators feel? She had the power to bind him to Conor's form and make him feel physical pain. He was the one that should be disturbed.
“That seems only fair, Lieutenant. Rena disturbs my equilibrium as well,” Malachi stated firmly.
“I find your interest in Rena most fascinating. Most males turn away from her intense spirit which tends to spread itself over a whole ship. If you or the other intuitives on the Liberator have noticed an energy shift, it may very well be Rena causing it,” Seta said with a shrug. “Captain Warro didn’t like her being on the Paladin. He said she carried a darkness despite her spiritual work.”
Malachi laughed again. He couldn’t help it. The idea of an emissary of the Creators being perceived as having a ‘dark spirit’ delighted him.
“Well, the Liberator is full of beings who consider themselves spiritually awakened, Lieutenant. Some are just as intense as Rena. In fact, being in a state of energy flux is a fairly normal occurrence around here,” he said wryly.
“Do you consider yourself a spiritual being, Medic? Do you—for example—adhere to the myth of the ‘Creators of All?’ Rena is adamant that they are real beings, or once were. She describes them as universal forces for good. I continue to believe they are largely myth,” Seta said.
Malachi laughed harder, even though he knew his constant smiling and laughing might be misconstrued as getting a little too friendly. It was difficult to restrain himself when the female in her innocence was so amusing. He found himself actually regretting what Liam and Ania planned to do that would erase the blissfully ignorant, but very appealing, child-like state from her personality. Learning one carried a demon had a tendency to dim one’s innocent view of the universe as a benevolent place.
“I’m afraid I have to admit to sharing Rena’s beliefs in the Creators. You may tell her I said so if you wish. Perhaps it might change her attitude towards me a little,” Malachi said, unable to hold back his smile.
“So politely put, Medic. I can tell you are sincerely interested in my dual-birth sibling,” Seta stated firmly. “Rena may choose not to notice, but I prefer to deal with the truth.”
“Yes—I can see that about you, Lieutenant Trax,” Malachi agreed, smiling genuinely at the younger woman.
Watching her spirit stretch out to test the ability to trust those around it was a kind of marvelous process. Most tested by asking for a truth
, only to then pull away before an unpleasant answer was shared. It was what all creatures did, and it promptly reminded him of his own early efforts in trusting Ania. Caught in his own philosophical web, Malachi could only laugh at the irony of his epiphany.
“Forgive my laughter, Lieutenant. Your youthful view of us all is very refreshing. You remind me of Commander Jet at times like this,” Malachi said easily.
“Your words hide things, Medic. You speak as calmly as Rena, but I sense great anger resides within you. I commend you for your control in maintaining a serene countenance. When I have such anger within, I tend to erupt and destroy things around me. Rena says I was cursed with a bad temper after our father sold us into a mating bond,” Seta said, wondering again why her father’s actions had ceased to appall her. Instead, talking of her father’s actions always felt like she was repeating a story about a stranger.
“Yes. I can understand why being sold by your birth parent might prompt you to be upset,” Malachi said dryly, watching the female struggle with her confusion.
Strolling by the larger male’s side, Seta noted the medic’s energy did not feel like other males felt to her. There was something different, some missing aspect of normal masculinity, but also some additional power in what he exuded. He was, oddly enough, similar to Rena in that regard. He was equally intense, she thought, at loss for a better description.
“My Ethosian instincts cannot come to a consensus about your real nature, but I do not need my intuition to know you are much more than what you seem.”
Seta could tell Malachi truly had no physical interest in her at all, despite her visual appearance being a mirror of Rena’s. Yet when the medic was near Rena, his energy expanded and nearly filled the space they were in, as if it were trying to absorb her. Rena’s energy reacted by pulling inside her form, refusing to come out when he was around. Yet it wasn’t just Rena. She’d caught him looking longingly at the Sumerian medic he worked with on more than one occasion, so she knew Rena was not the only female that held his interest.
Then there was also the odd sibling sort of relationship he maintained with the ship’s Peace Keeper. Perhaps being the captain’s kin, one could pass that off as a familial connection, though she couldn’t see much more than appearance in common between the two Norblade males. Captain Synar’s nature was as stoic and calm as Malachi Synar’s was intense and on edge. She openly studied his form with interest, not bothering to disguise it—or hide it. But why was she so interested in the medic? Usually males bored her.
“One day, everything I am will make perfect sense to you,” Malachi said. “Until then, all you need to know is that I mean neither of you nor your sibling any harm.”
Seta snorted. “Why do I find that odd statement so amusing?”
“Your spirit is more wise than your conscious mind. Are you sufficiently stimulated now, Lieutenant? If so, I will ask to take my leave of your company. I need to pass duties to the medic taking the next shift,” Malachi said, bowing his head when he stopped walking.
“Yes, of course. Thank you for your time,” Seta said, bowing her head in return. “I’m certain reflecting on our discussion will fill my remaining duty hours well enough.”
“Please—call me Malachi. Though I like your respectful address, I greatly prefer the use of my name, especially by beautiful females,” he said, giving her a smile.
“Very well. Thank you for your time—Malachi,” Seta said, feeling his name resonate through her as it left her tongue. “Even your name has a strange energy. You are a most intriguing male.”
“I will choose to take that as a compliment, Lieutenant Trax,” Malachi said, fighting not to laugh. “Please give my best to Rena.”
Seta surprised him by smiling back before she turned and quietly headed back to the bridge.
Chapter 15
Chiang watched Boca’s eyelids open reluctantly, smiling when she put out a hand to touch his face as he loomed over her. Not so long ago, she would have stiffened in his arms and flinched away from his touch. He was nothing but grateful for all the progress that had been made between them.
“I must go to my quarters soon. The bursar has left my slave clothes there,” Boca said quietly. “If I had known this was coming, I wouldn’t have destroyed the ones I was wearing during my escape.
“You were very attractive in the clothes, but I would rather see you entirely covered than wearing any symbol of servitude again,” Chiang said, letting himself toy with her very long, very sexy, unbound hair.
“Captain Synar said he would finish our briefing on the flight down to the planet,” Boca whispered.
Chiang put his hand over the one touching him as he held her gaze. “I don’t blame you for being afraid. Healthy fear can save you. Just know that so long as I have breath, you will never again be a Lotharian’s slave mate. I would give my life to make sure that doesn’t happen. II dau lui razboinic juramint.”
Boca didn’t answer his promise, or even ask to know what he had said in Greggor. His intentions were in his gaze. Instead she nodded, pretending to accept Chiang’s statements, which appeased him as she had known it would. He rolled away from her and rose, his glorious body marred only with his family’s distinctive mark. Possessiveness rolled through her in waves, so it would have been hypocritical to rebuke the Greggor for having emotions she couldn’t help having herself.
Chiang’s protective feelings for her enslaved her far more than any pain device could ever do. How was she ever going to leave him for her Peace Alliance training? Her compassion for him grew exponentially with every night she spent in his arms. Watching him pull his Greggor military clothes on, her pride was an additional source of consternation to her. She had yet to see him fight, but Jurek had told her not to worry. He had said Chiang’s skills were more than sufficient and merely needed a good reason to be used.
Oddly, it wasn’t worry about his skills that plagued her. It was curiosity. It was something in her reaching out to his spirit, trying to find more in common. It was still a surprise to her how much she actually liked Chiang. At least, she liked him when he wasn’t bossing her around. But thinking about how much she was going to have to concede to him over the next few days had her frowning at the utility pants stretched tautly over his firm arse as he fastened them. Why did such thoughts immediately ignite her desires again?
She was mentally swearing at her lustful thoughts when Chiang’s com device called his name. Sighing, Boca rose from the bed herself. The mission was going to happen no matter how confused about Chiang she was.
And it was nearly time to go.
***
In the shuttle, Malachi sat in the co-pilot’s seat while Chiang and Boca sat near the back. Liam was flying, of course, which normally made the stoic Norblade almost giddy with pleasure, but not so today. Today Liam was frowning, and his thoughts were on the couple in the back of the shuttle who sat silently next to each other not even speaking.
“I have a bad feeling, and it keeps growing,” Synar began. “There was little resistance to the shuttle’s landing near the city. This is also not a good sign. While they think Chiang is coming to represent Conor, they shouldn’t be treating Boca and him like honored guests. I can’t imagine my brother was on that kind of terms with anyone he did business with regularly. He travelled with bodyguards and left dead bodies in his wake.”
“I share your concerns,” Malachi admitted. “But there is little that we can do now that this course of action has been set. Chiang and Boca are expected by Orem Sel. If they don’t show up, the ruler will know something is not right. Lotharians are not intuitive, but they are instinctively mistrustful. I can accompany them in mist form if you wish. I will obey the Greggor. I have grown accustomed to doing so.”
Chiang’s eyebrows rose. He looked at Boca, who shrugged.
“No,” Synar said. “As much as I want them safe, my instinct says to keep you in your body in case an appearance from Conor is needed.”
“As you wish,” Ma
lachi said, nodding.
“It is not what I wish, but it is what we will do for now,” Synar said, maneuvering the shuttle into place on flattest ground he could manage to find.
While the ramp lowered, Chiang and Boca both stood.
Reaching into his pocket, Chiang pulled the remote for the Xendrin collar out. “Ready for this?” he asked.
At Boca’s nod, he powered the collar on and saw her straighten, pulling her energy and strength around her like a shield. She looked small but defiant, which was the perfect attitude to convince the Lotharians of her captive status.
They would survive this, Chiang promised himself, fighting his protective tendencies, and his urge to make her more promises. It was not what Boca needed at the moment. But they would survive this ordeal, and then he and Boca would decide about the rest of their life together. Chiang had been careful to keep his thoughts about it to himself, but one day soon, he was going to declare his intentions. May the Creators have mercy on them both when he did. The argument he anticipated had played out in his imagination dozens of time.
“Report your status to the Liberator as soon as you can,” Synar ordered, watching their curt nods. “May the Creators see you safely returned to us.”
“Thank you, Captain. We will take care,” Chiang promised.
After Boca and Chiang exited, Synar raised the ramp and lifted the shuttle for their return. During lift-off, he and Malachi saw a set of guards walking towards the couple.
“They are more afraid of each other than they are of Orem Sel,” Malachi said flatly, watching concern flickering in and out of Liam’s gaze. “I can always go with them. No one would ever know but us.”
Synar frowned but shook his head. “I want you to stay in Conor’s body in case we need him.”
“Do you need him?” Malachi asked. “You can always have Ania put Conor back in this form. Perhaps his time in the amulet has already changed him.”
Synar shook his head again. “Since the emissary has been with us, I’ve come to see the situation with Conor in a very different light. Ania and I will deal with him in due time. I’m actually glad it’s you and not Conor in his body. I don’t see my brother agreeing to help or being willing to go along.”
The Healer's Kiss: Book Four of the Forced To Serve Series Page 19
