The Demon Master's Wife (Fantasy, Space Opera, Science Fiction Romance) (FORCED TO SERVE)

by McDonald, Donna

  Synar rolled, taking her with him until she was the one looking down at him. He would never want her to regret anything she wanted from him. Over time they would reach an accord about their need of each other. He would see to it.

  “Liking rough bonding now and again is not the depths of degradation in my culture,” Synar said carefully. “Males fight their domination tendencies, but mated couples work such things out. The female who demanded Conor’s exile was found with a Jarpen pain collar on her neck and spikes driven through her hands to keep her restrained. Pushing me to take you like an Earth male doesn’t even come close to that kind of treatment.”

  Ania sighed and laid her head on his chest. “It relieves me to hear you say you do not think badly of me. I regret if I have dishonored you.”

  Synar snorted. “More like you turned me into a beast without control, a side of myself I keep very private.”

  “Can I say I liked you as a beast?” Ania asked.

  “Is this really you, or is this Malachi’s influence?” Synar asked, thinking they were at the point where the demon’s effect on her had to be discussed.

  “I don’t think I know the difference anymore,” Ania whispered back.

  “Forgive me the question. I did not mean to sound unappreciative of you again,” Synar said, sighing and stroking her face.

  “Soon I will tell you about the first hundred years of my life, Liam. It may change your opinion me, but I think the female I have become after merging with Malachi is more like her. Perhaps there was never any escape from my real self, no matter how much spirituality I practiced,” Ania said softly. “Now all I can do is look for balance.”

  Synar stroked her hair for a few minutes, then watched the light on the panel come on. He heard Dorian looking for him and Ania, and he sighed in resignation.

  “The next time we do this, we are doing it right,” Synar said. “Slide off me.”

  “What is right?” Ania asked, letting him help her disconnect their bodies. It was not very comfortable to do so and she called out.

  “Right is something that doesn’t make you call out in pain when you have a release or we disengage from each other,” Synar said firmly.

  “Synar—you worry too much,” Ania said, climbing to her feet and walking to the bathroom on wobbly legs. “But I’m definitely going to need to wear the hygiene straps today.”

  Synar smiled. “My release was intense and complete. It was like emptying a kerwon fluid tank.”

  “What a lovely sentiment to share,” Ania said snidely, hearing him laugh at her tone. “In the future I will guard my tongue from offering such an intimate sharing of information. I’ll just go dress now.”

  “There are more things Earth humans say to each other after they have done the bonding deed as we just have,” Synar called out, smiling when he noticed she’d left the door open to talk to him. “Do you wish to hear them?”

  He watched her wrapping the hygiene straps, already thinking about ripping them off her later as she liked him to do. Maybe she’d always liked bonding a little rough, even back when she didn’t want to want it that way.

  Maybe they hadn’t been together long enough for him to figure out what Ania really liked, Synar decided. The truth of that epiphany resonated in him and made a future with her even more important. Synar wanted time with her to learn what she needed.

  “How you can watch all those Earth entertainment vids while you snarl at their use of words is beyond my understanding,” Ania said reasonably. “Tell me what they say. I don’t find their language as offensive as you do.”

  Synar fastened his pants and slipped on his shoes again. He could still sense their joining in his body. It would comfort him the rest of the day, especially knowing Ania intended to face his brother without him. Yet he knew if Conor suspected he was aware, Ania’s plan would never work. He would just have to trust Ania to handle it.

  “I never want to bond that roughly with anyone but you. I love you, Ania Looren,” Synar said firmly, closing up the bottom fasteners of his shirt.

  When Ania walked out of the bathroom wearing nothing but straps, it made Synar sigh in longing again. Her body had always lured him, but now he was addicted to her increased lushness. Just one time with her had made him forget the past.

  “You are incredibly alluring,” Synar said sincerely, delighted when she smiled.

  And her chest glands—no he couldn’t think about those right now. Ania hadn’t really allowed him to do as he wanted to them yet, but she would. Synar would give her anything she wanted in exchange for the privilege.

  “I told you that word was much more suitable than you realized,” Ania said softly. “I love you too, Liam.”

  His hands froze as he stared at her. Had Ania really just said she loved him?

  Pushing his hands away from the forgotten task, Ania finished the fasteners on his shirt herself. Then she walked to the console with its still flashing light.

  “Dorian—this is Ania. Synar will be there shortly,” she said briskly.

  “Aye then,” Dorian replied, asking no further questions.

  She released the com button and walked back.

  “I must now go seduce my second Synar into doing what I want today,” Ania whispered conspiratorially. “I wish it were not so. One was quite enough.”

  Synar put his forehead against hers, the touch of true mates. His spirit leapt to feel Ania’s hands come to his head to hold the contact. He still had so much to learn about her. Please let there be time, he prayed.

  “I am trying to better accept my responsibility to Malachi and to you. I know we have to stop Conor. Please continue to have faith in me. I can see there is no running away anymore,” Synar whispered back.

  “No—there is no running away anymore. His desire to control the demon drives him to seek us. Facing Conor is unavoidable,” Ania said. “It is best to draw him out and control the situation ourselves.”

  “So be it then,” Synar said, his tone resigned. “If Conor harms you, know that I will no longer have a problem taking his life.”

  “Conor cannot truly harm me, but you need to prepare yourself for what must be done to stop your brother.” Ania shook her head against his. “Conor must never become the demon master of Malachi. It is the strongest instinct I possess.”

  Chapter 25

  Dressed in a short meditation robe she borrowed from Dorian that still hung to the floor on her, Ania walked into the conference room and saw Issa already seated at the table in front of the monitor.

  Ania turned her attention to the young ensign waiting patiently at the com center.

  “Thank you for assisting us today, Ensign Dre,” Ania said, reading his name on his uniform.

  “Coordinates for the Peace Alliance have been entered. Let me know when you are ready to connect, Peace Keeper Looren,” he said, bowing his head respectfully.

  Ania walked up to him and smiled warmly.

  “How very amenable of you,” she said kindly, lifting a hand and hitting him sharply between the eyes as she spoke the words of trance sleep.

  The ensign’s head dropped, but he remained standing. Ania turned back to Issa who was leaning forward in her seat in surprise.

  “Ensign Dre, I need you to put in a new set of coordinates,” Ania said calmly, walking around him. “You may open your eyes to do this.”

  Dre opened his eyes and blinked at Ania, who looked at Issa. “Coordinates, Ambassador? Be quick here.”

  Issa offered the numbers. Dre programmed them into the console.

  Ania leaned back close to him. “You will mark the recording as private and set it to only allow me or Ambassador Onin to have access. Now you will take a chair and rest until we are done. You are doing a wonderful job, Ensign Dre. Close your eyes again when you’re seated.”

  Dre walked to the nearest chair and sat, head pointed straight ahead with eyes closed.

  “Nice trick,” Issa said shortly, trying not to let Ania Looren’s ease with incapacita
ting the ensign worry her. “Why didn’t you just do that to me?”

  Ania shrugged as she pushed the button to send the call through.

  “I didn’t want to make Conor upset at me for taking unfair advantage of you. There’s no need to coerce so long as you cooperate of your own accord. And maybe I like the way you are now trembling in fear after seeing what I can do. Unlike the Lotharians, I don’t have to wire creatures to control them.”

  It wasn’t long before an older male came on the line. He was tall and dark, bowing his head in pleasure when he recognized Issa.

  “Mistress? Is that really you?” Ania heard him say.

  Issa spoke quickly. “Yes, Ren, fetch Conor immediately. Tell him it’s urgent,” she demanded.

  Ania watched the older male disappear. It wasn’t long until an obscenely familiar image filled screen. The likeness between Liam and his brother was as strong as if they had been dual-births. Yet Ania could see the hard years had carved themselves around Conor’s eyes, which were hard as Ceruse steel as they stared at her.

  “Malachi, come forth and show yourself to me,” Conor demanded.

  Feeling Malachi ripple with excitement inside her for the first time since her change, Ania had an understanding of what it was like for the demon to constantly be at the mercy of a master—any master. She was suddenly very angry for both of them, and the anger showed in her gaze.

  Do not come out, Ania ordered, feeling Malachi settle once more. She had the distinct impression he was pleased with her adamant counter-order.

  “I’m afraid Malachi is otherwise occupied in protecting his fully healed host body,” Ania said carefully. “Hello, Conor Synar. How interesting it is to meet you at last.”

  “Greetings, Ambassador Looren, or should I call you Demon Host of Malachi?” Conor asked, lifting his chin to glare. “Where is my thieving brother?”

  “I imagine Liam is sitting in that giant chair on the bridge playing captain,” Ania said, waving as if unconcerned. “I can fetch him if you like, but I thought it best if we talked alone this first time.”

  “Why are you talking to me at all?” Conor demanded.

  “I have something you want, which I’m willing to trade for your help. I’ve been reading the books of training. You have no idea what I’ve had to do to get Liam to share them with me,” Ania said. “He is more like you than he would have you know.”

  “Even through our weak connection I can read you better than that. While you reek of his energy in disgusting ways, I know you also exaggerate,” Conor said. “Liam is a philosopher, forever weighing the fairness of things. He became a ship’s captain so he wouldn’t have to fight as a warrior on our home planet. Fighting is mostly distasteful to him, as is hurting a female.”

  “Okay. Perhaps I am exaggerating a little, though Malachi has inspired me to develop some different tastes,” Ania said truthfully, smiling. “But I’m just making conversation. If you don’t want to chat and get to know each other, I’m fine with simply getting to the point of why I contacted you.”

  “Which is?” Conor asked, bored with her bragging chatter.

  “I finished book three of the training books. I don’t think you ever got that far in your training, did you? Liam said your father was very secretive about the last part of the knowledge,” Ania said. “After reading it, I understand why.”

  “I know enough about controlling the demon to do what I wish to do with Malachi’s power. What else is there to know?” Conor demanded. “You’re baiting me, Ania Looren.”

  Ania shrugged, emphasizing her lack of concern over his statement.

  “In the last book of training, I discovered how a master can merge with Malachi permanently. Such an act would prevent anyone ever taking him away again. I can tell you from a host perspective a total merging is a much better situation than it sounds on the surface. Sure, going through the change for me was a bit like being set on fire. Normally, I don’t enjoy that level of pain unless it results in someone’s death,” Ania told him. “And speaking of death . . .that’s what I need your help with in return.”

  Conor laughed harshly.

  “Let me guess. You desire your death,” he said, sneering. “The spiritual version of Ania Looren hates that after eight hundred years of purification she now hosts a demon. Your parents wrote a very touching memorial to the memory of all your spiritual training and your work to achieve peace.”

  Ania tightened the blocks in her mind, drawing on the warrior side of herself who saw lying as just an expedient way to get her goal accomplished.

  “Mocking my parents will not endure you to me, Conor Synar. I made a single mistake, but it was a big one. Until I read the books of training, I didn’t understand that as a permanently healed host Malachi would never leave me again. I didn’t understand that he would become my constant bodyguard. There is only one answer for me now,” Ania said. “If Malachi is joined to you, as his master and host, his total possession by you would trump his possession of me. Then you could command me to fight.”

  “Now I see where this whole tale of woe is going at last. You wish to find your death honorably during battle,” Conor said, comprehending what she wanted.

  Ania bowed her head in acknowledgment to him, thinking it was the only respect she would ever show him.

  “Synar—I mean Liam has forbidden me to put myself at genuine risk for any cause. But I am not willing to be an obedient mate or demon host. I am not willing to be controlled.”

  Conor laughed. “You’re acting like a scorned Earth female. Are you still upset that my brother left you during your mating week? He did it to protect you from me. It’s actually the only devious thing Liam has done that I’ve ever admired. He is disgustingly honorable. I would have thought he’d be the perfect mate for you.”

  Ania frowned and pretended to be offended.

  “You know very well I’m upset because I spent my life training for a purpose your brother refuses to honor as my life’s work. As my legal mate, your brother took away my death right and I want it back. You know I can’t kill him or myself. I’m not willing to wait thousands of years for some accident. I want my death on own my terms. I figured you would enjoy killing what is left of me. Then the rest of Malachi would leave me and go into you. At the time of my death, he would be completely yours, as would all his power.”

  “Such a merging probably requires the amulet. Do you have it?” Conor asked.

  “Well I don’t have it yet,” Ania said sharply, working to look slightly frustrated with Conor’s question. “But I will have it by the time you can get here. There is a supply ship scheduled to arrive in two Earth days. Be on it. If you keep a low profile as her mate, Issa can meet you at the dock and bring you to the captain’s quarters virtually undetected. If you fail to come, I’m afraid your mate might meet a very unhappy death of her own.”

  “Mate? You think I feel attached to Issa Onin. Kill her. I don’t care,” Conor said coldly. “If I come, it will not be for the purpose of saving Issa. No female is worth my life. Do not be mistaken about my motives. If I take this risk, it will be to collect my demon and I will succeed.”

  “Conor—what are you saying?” Issa demanded, her voice quivering with hurt as she interrupted his fierce statements with one of her own. “You forced me to volunteer for Lotharius where you knew I would become a prisoner to Fener Sel. You have sold enough females to him to know he never returns one. You don’t feel any impulse to save me all? Even after I have done all you asked every time you demanded anything of me?”

  “Stop being so dramatic, Issa,” Conor said flatly, his tone stern and critical of her complaints. “I’m trying to determine if Ambassador Looren is laying a trap for me.”

  Ania could see the clever wheels turning in Conor’s brain.

  “I have already laid the only trap I intended to set, and your mate fell into it by helping me contact you. Now I’m talking about an alliance that serves the greater good among us. Do we have a deal or not?” Ania as
ked. “Swear it to me by the creators of all. If I find out you are false, I will spell someone to kill you.”

  “Issa—what say you about this situation?” Conor asked. “Stop pouting about what I said that offended your pitiful female sense of worth. I would have mourned your death. That is all you can expect of me as your mate.”

  Issa looked at the only male she’d ever known that could be both savage and savior at the same time. “I wish I didn’t want you, Conor Synar,” she said tightly.

  Conor just laughed at her declaration.

  Ania smiled as her gaze went between them, not having to fake the condescension she felt for Issa. She would never let any male she bonded with speak so poorly to her without suffering for it.

  Issa looked at Conor and then resentfully at Ania Looren.

  “I have seen her kill without remorse, and I have seen her power. If she wanted me dead, I would be dead. You can believe what you like. Take your own risks,” Issa exclaimed, crossing her arms. “I have already offered her my body in exchange for my life. Make your own deals.”

  Ania laughed at the petulant female, who was hurt over a male who so obviously cared little for her. She put as much false sympathy in her voice as possible. “You need to find a new mate, Issa. No male is worth the loyalty you have granted this uncaring beast.”

  Ania heard Conor laughing, but kept her gaze on Issa’s. Conor Synar seemed more impressed by her laughter at Issa’s hurt feelings than by anything she had said to him so far.

  “My brother has no idea what you’re really like, does he?” Conor asked finally.

  Ania smiled, happy to hear awe in Conor’s voice at last.

  “No,” she said firmly, turning to look at Conor and shrug, knowing in some respects the statement was very true. She kept trying to tell Liam about her past, but he was still refusing to believe it. “But of all my complaints, it’s hard to hold anything against Liam when even I don’t know what I’m like anymore. I was once like you, Conor. Maybe I still am. Maybe you can’t trust me. If this goes wrong, never doubt that Liam will take my side. I have done what was needed to keep his loyalty.”