The Healer's Kiss: Book Four of the Forced To Serve Series

by Donna McDonald

  “Will Chiang die if I don’t take the healing gift?” Boca asked, still looking at him.

  “No, but your mate will not recover quickly from the drugs. Your personal fate is uncertain along that path as well. This is all I know. Your spirit has a strong will to survive. Both gifts would honor you.”

  Her gaze swung in the direction of her frustrating benefactor. If she had demon power, the female would be ashes right now. “You know I could never risk Chiang dying. You know how it is between us. There is no choice for me in what you offer.”

  “There is always a choice, Che’ta,” the emissary said softly.

  “You are wrong, but arguing serves no one. I have made my decision. Give me the healing gift,” Boca all but yelled.

  The emissary raised her hand, and Boca instinctively raised her own to shield her face from the light that suddenly filled the darkness. When it faded, the cell door was still closed, but her hands burned. Boca studied her scarred palms and the symbols that were now visible there, carved into swollen red ridges of skin. The energy vibrating in them was the strongest of anything she had ever felt, even that of Malachi’s.

  “Slaggika,” Boca exclaimed, feeling it coursing through her.

  She walked to where Chiang lay and knelt down on the cold floor. Holding her hands above his body, she moved them until the feeling in her palms made her almost call out in pain. It was worse than the wiring or the Xendrin collar.

  She lowered them to the area that called for attention, and moments later, Chiang called out as if in great pain himself. When she pulled her hands away, Chiang’s eyes blinked open. They were foggy, but she could see his consciousness returning.

  “What happened?” he asked.

  “The guards behind us drugged you before you could react. Come—stand if you can. You must break us out of the cell. The high ambassador’s daughter is next door,” she said, standing and reaching down a hand to help him up.

  Once standing, Chiang grabbed Boca’s wrist when she started to pull away. “What did you do to help me?”

  “You are healed. What does it matter?” Boca asked tiredly.

  Chiang noticed her hands then, the healing scar tissue made his gut churn, but the symbols…he’d never seen them before. “Are you okay?”

  “I am well enough,” Boca declared. “Are you okay?”

  Chiang released her wrist. He was a bit wobbly but mostly fine. He put a hand to the back of his neck. The injection site was still sore. They had indeed drugged him.

  “Orem Sel has no honor. How long have we been in here?” he asked.

  “Too long,” Boca said softly. “The others must be in danger as well or they would have freed us by now.”

  Chiang walked to the front of the cell, took the bars in his hands, and pulled them apart until both Boca and he could pass through the opening he had made.

  “Kefira is in there,” Boca declared, pointing to the cell next to the one they had exited.

  Chiang squinted into the darkness of it, barely able to make out the figure curled on the sleeping platform at the back. He tried the lock. It was loosely connected and not very secure.

  “Stand aside,” he ordered, barking the order at Boca more harshly than he had meant to do. His concern for her and his anger at Orem Sel made gentleness an impossibility. One hard yank broke the lock.

  Boca rushed ahead of him into the darkness, running to where a beautiful young female lay groaning in the dark. She gently shook the sleeping form until her eyes opened. “Kefira, wake up. It is Boca. It is finally time to escape.”

  “Boca? I cannot move. The pain is too much…it never lessens. I am ill from it,” Kefira said.

  Boca walked to the bottom of the sleeping platform and reached her hands up under Kefira’s long tunic until they covered the wiring wounds on the female’s long legs. Closing her eyes, Boca trembled as her palms burned into still healing skin. Kefira called out, but Boca kept her hands in place until she felt them go cold.

  “The pain. . .it is gone at last. What did you do?” Kefira asked, struggling to rise.

  “I chose the right gift,” Boca said flatly, sliding her now limp hands down to Kefira’s knees, having to use them to push herself upright.

  Strength returning, Boca finally looked up only to see Chiang’s admiring gaze on the young female’s bare legs. Temper rose inside her, along with a deep mortification that she was jealous. Disgusted with herself more than Chiang, she swore in Sumerian.

  She craved his full attention, even knowing she was probably never going to have it. Chiang was the kind of male who would always draw females and always reciprocate their interest. She didn’t hate him for his very natural lust—he was just a male. But she hated herself for wanting to compete. She hated herself for even wondering how attractive Chiang found the pale, sick female.

  “Can you focus on what we must do instead of on Kefira’s legs?”

  “Of course. Sorry. I’ve never been immune to beautiful females,” Chiang said, offering the only defense he had for his stray thoughts.

  And that was her answer, Boca decided. He did not even try to deny it to keep her favor. Chiang didn’t care what she thought or how she felt. It was typical, so very typical of all males she had ever known.

  “I’m not in the mood to be reminded of my misfortune to be your current female of interest,” Boca said sharply. “Carry her. Kefira still cannot walk, and I can’t heal her fast enough. Her body is not adjusting to the wires. They need to be removed as soon as possible.”

  Chiang picked up the fragile young female, hoisting her slight form into his arms. She was so frail. Boca could have carried her if she had been taller.

  The diminutive object of his musings shot a hot, disapproving gaze in his direction as he lifted and cradled the high ambassador’s daughter to his chest. She glared and swore in Sumerian as she headed out of the cell door. Chiang tried to lose the satisfied smile as he followed her, but her jealousy over the younger female thrilled him.

  It meant Boca wanted him, despite what she said to the contrary.

  He watched as she charged ahead taking the steps two at a time to stay in front of them. His smile of admiration faded before he even started his climb with his cargo.

  Two Lotharian male guards coming down the stairs ended up catching the worst of Boca’s anger. They never even got a chance to pull their weapons before they were crumpled heaps. Chiang stepped over the body of one to follow a winded but now calmer version of Boca as she slowly resumed her climb up the winding, dark stairway.

  “Regardless of any stray thoughts of admiration I may have for others, there is no female but you for me,” Chiang said to her back. “We are mates in a way that I would never dishonor.”

  “Shut up, Chiang. I don’t want to hear about your devotion. I saw you looking at her legs. Know I will never share you with another female. Do not ask,” Boca ordered, not turning around. “I would kill you first.”

  “I would never ask that of you. My admiration was just my common reaction to beauty,” Chiang protested. “This only bothers you because you now know my deepest thoughts. So read more—you will see my longing is for you.”

  Her bare feet moved as fast as possible on the stone steps. She wanted to escape the darkness but also to put as much distance as possible between her and the male whose hot gaze followed her. Next time she was offered a gift, she would choose strength so she could kick Chiang’s irreverent male ass whenever he annoyed her.

  Gwen would be so proud.

  ***

  The floor of the now familiar hallway was littered with guards and weapons as they traveled back through it. On the way back, they encountered Malachi, Lieutenant Trax, and Captain Synar, who was carrying the other Trax sibling.

  “What happened to Rena Trax?” Boca asked Malachi.

  “Poisoned. Seta has been too. Lieutenant Trax is temporarily running on another kind of power than her own,” Malachi said.

  Chiang and Boca looked at Seta, whose e
yes were glowing white.

  “Don’t let it worry you,” Malachi said flatly. “The demon she carries is on our side for now.”

  Liam lifted his wrist com. “Warro. We’re heading back with two wounded. We have the target and are on the way to you now.”

  “Want me to come get you?” Ji asked.

  “Not necessary,” Synar replied. “We have a cover, and I don’t want to risk our transport. Be ready when we get there. The wounded need immediate treatment. Synar out.” He lowered the wrist unit. “Malachi, let Boca control your host body. Cloak us while we leave. Orem Sel will be freed soon, but it won’t matter.”

  “We’ll be gone before that happens,” Malachi said stiffly. “I sealed Orem Sel and the wicked ambassador in the room after we left. He can’t be trusted at all, Liam.”

  Synar laughed. He wasn’t even sure why. Malachi was acting so strangely. “Fine. Can we leave now or do you want to torture them all first?”

  “I prefer to see us all to safety,” Malachi said quietly.

  Synar looked into eyes like his own, but it wasn’t the similarity to Conor he was seeing this time. “Perhaps we can devise some clever punishment for them after the planet has been secured by the Peace Alliance.”

  “Ania would probably enjoy helping,” Malachi suggested. He turned to Boca. “Guard my body, Little Warrior. The host will obey you.”

  With that he lifted from his body and spread out his energy, encompassing the entire group inside a bubble of black mist. The trek back to the shuttle was accomplished in silence.

  With the shuttle’s engines engaged and standing by, Warro met them at the bottom of the ramp. The bodies of several guards were stacked off to one side. A gash in the side of his uniform pants was the only remaining sign of his struggle. He put out a hand to detain the one person he had wanted most to see return.

  “Seta. Thank the Creators you survived,” Ji said.

  Zorinda stopped the host from walking by. “On the contrary, Seta Trax is in the process of dying. I have delayed it, but I am unable to stop her demise.”

  “What are you talking about?” Ji demanded, grabbing both her arms. Then it hit him. The dark energy radiating. It wasn’t her, wasn’t Seta he felt. “Who are you?”

  “I am Zorinda. I am the demon who resides in Seta Trax,” she said.

  Warro dropped his hands and stepped back. “No. This is not possible.”

  Synar looked down the ramp at the Siren who looked ready to implode. “I regret you found out this way, but we have to leave, Captain Warro. The important fact at the moment is Seta is not dead yet, which is why we need to get back to the Liberator.”

  Ji looked at the female he had thought he would mate. She turned away without a word and walked up inside the shuttle. Inside, something in him still leaned towards protecting her. He charged up the ramp, glaring at Liam Synar. “You knew this and didn’t tell me?”

  “I know a lot of things,” Synar said coldly. “But I don’t know when the Lotharians are going to figure out what we’ve done and try to stop us. We need to leave.”

  More angry than he could remember being in while, Ji pushed past and went to the pilot’s console. He wasn’t surprised when the Norblade male took the co-pilot’s chair, or at the urge he had to hurt him.

  “Your betrayal of my trust will not be forgotten, Captain Synar.”

  “Warro, Seta’s demon is the least of my concerns. There are three demons on my ship,” Synar said flatly. “The one residing in Seta Trax has been under the control of an emissary of the Creators.”

  “Emissaries of the Creators do not exist. They are myth,” Warro insisted.

  “They are real,” Synar informed him, quickly explaining Rena’s possession as well as Seta’s. Warro looked shocked, but nodded briefly to show he had heard. “I was not able to tell you because I had an agreement with the emissary that in exchange for my discretion, she would not harm my crew. Now you know all I know.”

  Swearing in the native tongue of the Sirens, Warro pulled back on the launch lever and lifted the shuttle, shooting it to the sky at the maximum speed the small craft could safely attain. It was like piloting a toy.

  Synar lifted his wrist com. “Commander Jet, we’re on our way back to the ship. Any word from the Dread Nought?”

  “Yes. They’re here and preparing. Captain Za is on his way to talk to the Paladin’s commander. Ground forces should be mobilizing soon. Does the planet have the resources to retaliate this far out?” Gwen asked.

  “Unknown,” Synar replied. “Stay on guard. Orem Sel wasn’t inclined to be helpful.”

  He looked back to see Malachi staring silently at the comatose form of Rena Trax. Amazed to feel sympathy yet again, he softened his voice before asking for help.

  “Malachi, the Paladin has a pulse generator. Any idea what frequency could be used to scramble the electronic signals on the planet’s surface?”

  Synar noticed Malachi didn’t bother looking in his direction. He just quietly rattled off a series of numbers.

  Warro punched a code into the com device of the shuttle. “Commander Hornex, this is Captain Warro. We’ve completed the rescue but need to provide a little more time for the ground troops to assemble and be disbursed. Set the pulse at the following frequency and begin broadcasting it planet-wide.”

  Warro repeated the numbers Malachi had provided.

  “Captain Warro, the pulse will disrupt everything on the planet that communicates or sends signals of any sort,” the Paladin’s commander answered.

  “Precisely,” Warro said. “Make it happen as quickly as you can, Commander. Be prepared to cut it when the first ground troops land.”

  “Yes, sir,” the Paladin commander said, signing off.

  Warro looked to Synar. “What now?”

  Synar glanced over his shoulder again. “Let the Guardian vessels handle the rest. We need to save our Ethosians.”

  “Agreed,” Warro said, relieved to see the docking bay of the Liberator open to welcome them back.

  Chapter 23

  “I have run all the tests the Liberator has the capacity for, but the poison is not showing up on the list of known toxic substances. Both the Paladin and the Dread Nought have searched their databases as well. My guess is that the poison is something Orem Sel’s black market healers concocted. We could send physical samples to the nearest Peace Alliance planet for further evaluation, but I don’t know if we have that kind of time. Without knowing what they ingested, there is not much we can do to fight its effects,” Chiang said.

  Synar and Warro leaned against the wall, watching Chiang work on the Trax siblings.

  “It would take days just to transport the med samples,” Synar said. “With what’s about to happen on Lotharius, we can’t leave until the surface has been secured.”

  “The invasion will take weeks, even if the Lotharians concede without fighting back,” Warro said.

  “Boca came back from Lotharius with some new healing skills, but they have not been effective on either of the Trax females,” Chiang said, frowning as he remembered that Boca had been avoiding him as much as she could since their return.

  Boca and Medic Wu were at the moment removing Kefira’s wires in the Medical area of the doctor’s quarters. She had insisted the young female be given a sedative so when she awoke she would have no memory of the pain of the procedure.

  Chiang’s concern was more about Boca fearing to have her own wires removed, which was definitely going to happen as soon as he could see to it. And the damn controller was coming out of his hand as well. He was planning to talk to Zade about doing some energy clearing on her afterwards—maybe even on both of them. Chiang wanted no reminders of that past lingering as they got on with their lives.

  “Is Malachi with Boca?” Synar asked, sensing it was true, but he wanted to see if Chiang had any opinion about the demon’s strange behavior.

  “Yes. I sent him to help with Kefira,” Chiang said. “Though I have trouble believing my ins
tincts, I have accepted that Malachi has been traumatized by what happened.”

  He had concluded the demon was of no use in Medical when all he did was stare at the body of Rena Trax with so much sadness that Chiang actually felt sorry for him. It was still difficult to believe that Malachi had a sincere compassion for any female.

  “What is the state of Rena Trax?” Synar asked, dreading to hear the answer.

  Chiang sighed in frustration. “There is still no sign of consciousness within the physical form.”

  “So there is no hope the emissary’s host body will recover?” Synar asked.

  “Not necessarily,” Chiang said softly. “There’s no sign of real life, but there’s also no sign of death yet either. Normal decay is happening, but the rate is only traceable with instruments. It’s like the body has entered a form of stasis.”

  Synar pushed off the wall and started walking. “I’m going to the conference room. Dorian and Ania are on the Dread Nought. I’ll ask them what they think.”

  “What about Seta, Doctor?” Ji asked when Synar had disappeared, crossing his arms as the creature inside Seta’s body lifted her head and looked at him. “No. I don’t want to hear your opinion of her imminent death again. I want to hear the doctor’s views of the matter.”

  When Seta’s body lay back down on the table without speaking, Ji sighed and worked to soften his voice.

  “I want the real Seta back. I want the female that served on my ship. This is important, Doctor,” he said firmly.

  “Indeed, I can see that it is to you,” Chiang said quietly, not really seeing at all. What was Captain Warro’s relationship to his former lieutenant? From his observation, Lieutenant Trax had not felt anything for the Siren. In fact, the Ethosian female had seemed particularly immune to the allure of the male. The only male she’d shown any interest in was Malachi.

  “Answer the question, Doctor. Please,” Warro added as an afterthought.

  “I’m sorry, Captain Warro. I have nothing new to share about Seta’s situation either. There is no sign of decay or that the body is expiring. Obviously it is Zorinda who is talking to us now. It is as if the illness has caused Seta to give over control of her body to the energy that is keeping her alive.”