by Viola Grace
“Wow, that was some kiss.” The doctor was at her side again, applying a salve to her lips to reduce the swelling as she fought to regain her breath.
“Yeah. Um, doctor? What is your name?”
“Rellik, my name is Rellik.”
“Rellik, can I ask you a medical question?”
“Of course, you are my patient, Miranda. Nothing that isn’t ordered by Lord Aron is in your private file. He only gets the results from the testing that he orders. Anything else is confidential.” He scooted a chair next to her bed and took on a comfortable pose for a chat.
“Okay, first about me. Is there any way to remove or deactivate the obedience chip without him noticing.”
“No, for that I would need his agreement.”
She flattened her hands on the gurney and slapped them in frustration. “Shit! Okay, what can you tell me about the Enjel, aside from the obvious fact that they are sexually compatible on a level three.”
“Can I interest you in a hot beverage, Miranda? This is going to take a while.”
“Yes, please.” She watched him putter and then had to say, “I had never realized that the Azon were so domestic.”
“We have our moments.” He returned to her table with steaming mugs of a hot beverage and spent a few moments adjusting her station so that she could sit up to converse.
“So, are all the Enjel telepathic, or is it rare?” She smoothed her tunic down over her thighs and took a sip of the drink he proffered. It was both sweet and slightly salty, the perfect blend for a nice chat.
“It is very rare. It is what has elevated your owner from mere merchant to lord. His ability to read the thoughts of others has been used in several negotiations.”
“Is Myrik?”
“No, he is just born to a good family with good friends, like Lord Aron.”
“Is it genetic?” She rolled her eyes at her own words. “I mean, is it transferred from parents to children once both parents have it?”
“Why do you ask?” The smirk that he aimed into his mug betrayed his knowledge of her thoughts.
She heaved a sigh. “You are going to make me say it, aren’t you? All right, I want to know in case I become pregnant. I am a Level Nine Healing Empath on the Alliance rating system. My kids will definitely have my talents, I just wanted to know if the Enjel telepathy was a factor as well.”
“I know. I read your Alliance file after the first medical exam.” The banked heat in his eyes reminded her of the reflex test and she shifted uncomfortably.
A damp heat was leaking from her, and she knew that Rellik’s sense of smell could pick up on it. Acting casual was all that she could do.
“Then you knew I was Alliance? Oh, of course you did. You mentioned the mating of Kyra and Tiergar. I should have clued in.”
“Clued in?” A line drew between his brows in confusion.
“Oh, sorry, Terran euphemism. I meant I should have picked up on that hint.”
His chuckle was charming. “With Lord Aron looking over my shoulder, it was all that I could do.”
“So, are you going to alert the Alliance?” She didn’t know what to feel now that help was available. On the one hand she wanted to be free, but on the other she wanted to stay out of the Medical service.
“I am honor bound to do so as soon as it is reasonable for me. I cannot do it until we land on Jela.” He met her eyes with a frank stare. “ And quite honestly, until the chip deactivates and breaks down in your bloodstream, you won’t be going anywhere. The cure would be worse than the affliction.”
Relief flooded through her. It was a few more weeks of vacation for her then. She would have to face the Medical Corp eventually, but it would not be now.
“On another note, Miranda. Did Lord Aron give you the Water of Love last night?”
It was amazing that she could still blush. “Yes, he did.”
“That was your contraceptive. If he bit you afterward, it was to imprint the nanites that were in the water.”
“Nanites?” She sat up completely and glared at him.
“Yes, Miranda.” He was laughing at her shock. “But at least you don’t have to worry about the genetic transmission issue.”
“I suppose not. But, what did you mean about imprinting?”
“The bite and transmission of saliva link the nanites to his DNA. He can turn them on or off at will. It was a technology designed on Avari that is widely used by the Enjel.”
“That bastard!” She was fuming now. “How dare he turn off my reproduction? Not that I was planning on kids, but still!”
“How do you know he turned it off?” Rellik took her mug and returned it and his own to the supply station.
“But,” she spluttered, “You said that it was used by the Enjel for birth control.”
“Yes, emphasis on control.” He resumed his seat. “Don’t worry. They will flush out of your system in six months or so.”
“It still sucks.”
“That it does. Do you play cards?”
She was about to answer when the door to the hall hissed open. Two Enjel carrying a third between them burst in.
“Doctor Rellik! There has been an accident!” They moved the moaning man onto one of the gurneys designed to accommodate their wings.
Miranda hissed in sympathy as her empathy kicked in. His burns covered half of his body and had scorched one wing to cinders. The part of her mind that housed her talent shrieked at her to help. As if in a dream, she swung her legs off of her med station and stood for a few seconds. The gel coating her feet caused her to slide across the floor and into the wounded man in an instant. His scream of pain as she came into contact with his scorched flesh caused his companions to instantly jump to his side.
“Get away from him, whore!”
“Don’t touch him!”
Rellik held them back when they would have clawed her away from her patient. With hands shaking from the shared pain of the injury, she began to touch him. His pain receded immediately and the screaming stopped. Delicate passes of her hand helped her convince his body to weave new flesh as her mind met and clung to his. She controlled his healing and kept his body from going into shock.
Time ceased to matter; she simply and methodically stroked away the dead and scorched skin to reveal the new, sensitive tissue beneath. The wings took hours. She had to rebuild not only all of the muscles and skin, but the follicles that would grow new feathers. It was much more complicated than normal bipeds.
Her own body had ceased to matter, but every now and then she noted a hypospray being applied to her neck and arms. Finally, she was able to cease her endless caressing of the new skin. Her hands fell to her sides and she looked around the medical bay. There was a warm presence at her back, and she knew without guessing that it was Osias.
Chapter Five
Exhausted beyond reason, she slumped back into his embrace and was not surprised when he swung her back onto the bed she had previously occupied.
“Attend her, Doctor.” He stood by and watched the Azon try to replace and reset the balance in her system.
“Hey, Rellik. How long was I out?” Her voice was hoarse, her throat dry and her hand was suddenly caught in a tight grip by the hostile Enjel at her side.
“Yes, Doctor, how long were you letting her do your job?”
“Lord Aron, Miranda was enjoying bed rest when the burn patient came in. She healed in a matter of hours what it would have taken me days to do with the equipment. If she had not been here to numb his pain, he may have been driven mad before I could have helped him.”
“That doesn’t answer my question, Doctor. I came in seven hours ago and she was already healing him.”
“Thirteen hours, Lord Aron. She engaged in healing for thirteen hours. A record, as far as I know.”
“Can she return to our quarters?” He seemed impatient, his thumb rubbing back and forth on her palm.
“Yes, the injections that I gave her while she was healing have stabilized her. She j
ust needs a good meal and some rest.” Rellik was all business. The hyposprays were being administered in rapid succession.
Miranda looked over and saw that her patient seemed to be resting comfortably. His wing was still bald after his injury, but she knew the feathers would grow back rapidly. She was very good at the job that had almost gotten her killed.
“How is he, Rellik?” Her own hand closed around that of Osias.
“Almost completely unscathed.” He shook his head as he continued to work on her electrolyte levels. “You were right, you are a level nine.”
Osias seemed outraged, “A level nine? What the hell are you talking about?”
“Your bedmate is a level nine empathic healer.”
“And how do you know this?”
He finished with the sprays and set the tray aside. “She had a full physical, including psi scans. It was obvious, based on the readings.”
“How do you know her level?”
“Well, my lord, you did leave her here for a few hours. We had to talk about something, so it was her test results.”
Miranda breathed a sigh of relief. She was pretty sure that Osias wouldn’t want her talking about much with the attractive doctor. He seemed content to drop the subject and he asked the question that she longed to hear.
“So, when can I take her back to our quarters?”
“I believe she is ready now. Just let me give you some more gel for her feet.” In a flash he had handed Osias the container, and she was on her way out the door, this time slung over his shoulder.
“Master?” It was hard to talk while being bounced as he walked. “Is there a reason for this particular style of transport?” She sneezed lightly as the feathers from his wings tickled her nose.
“Yes, to keep you out of trouble, and so that I can start your punishment now.” His hand came down sharply on her ass, and she howled as he struck again.
It was nowhere near as painful as it could have been if he had been able to get a better angle on her buttocks, but it still stung enough to make her yelp and whimper with every strike. Laughter burned her ears as they passed various crewmembers in the halls. Her humiliation was relatively complete at this point; the only thing that could have made it worse would have been nudity. Thankfully, Osias had spared her that.
It was a new set of quarters that he carried her to. The ones with the infamous adjoining doors so that Myrik could still have his bed warmer. She giggled; so could Osias. Damn, endorphins that she didn’t know she had were taking the sting out of her backside.
Arousal crept through her, riding the waves of pain as she began to yelp and squirm with every impact. The trip to his new quarters seemed to take forever, and her entire body was in flames when they arrived.
Her head spun as he put her on her feet. Her knees buckled and his hands grabbed her and held her steady until she stood on her own.
“You are never to engage in a healing without my permission again. Do you hear me?” Osias shook her lightly as her eyes met his own. His fury was unmistakable.
“Yes, Master, I hear you.” She sighed heavily. The pain that she would be in if she defied the control chip was nothing to ignoring an injury. Thankfully, her range was only a hundred feet.
She could only hope that there were no other injuries on the ship during the voyage.
“You will go straight to your room. I will come for you in the morning.”
She dropped her eyes. The light spanking and arousal were small prices to pay. He was punishing himself while he punished her. That was definitely odd. The majority of men she had known would not have sent her off without making use of her body, given the opportunity.
“Where is my room, sir?”
“That doorway behind you. It will be locked until morning.” He sighed and stated calmly, “Myrik is already waiting for you. It should be his last night, you have gotten him through his growth spurt and he is ready now to begin his training.”
The door that she turned to face was featureless. It hiss open at her approach and there, in her bed, was Myrik. The light in his eyes was very disturbing; his notice of her suddenly ran from her head to toes.
“Good night, Myrik. I hope that you sleep well.”
Still wearing the tunic that Osias had given her earlier, she crawled into bed and lay next to her charge. He wrapped his limbs around her and in moments, she was asleep. Her day had been exhausting.
Her waking was harsh and abrupt. Hands clawed at her in the darkness, tearing her tunic away and prying at her thighs. Pain and blood shrieked in her mind, but not her mouth as a hand came up to muffle any cries that she would have made.
She tried to fight the hands off, but her attacker pinned her wrists above her head and shoved a chunk of her tunic into her mouth to muffle her screams. Her legs kicked against him and he used the opportunity to wedge one of his thighs between hers as his hand pried her legs apart to make room for himself.
She closed her eyes as he made a few abortive stabs at her opening, and whimpered behind her gag when he finally gained purchase within her body. Pain, blood, humiliation and the terrible silence in the room as he worked his body into hers with jerking movements of his hips.
He groaned and slumped over her body, freeing her wrists. She shoved him away from her and cried anew as she recognized his voice in the quiet, “Miranda?”
She drew her tattered tunic to cover as much as she could. “Get out, Myrik. Get out, and don’t come back.”
He stood, his body hovering over hers for long moments, then left the room through the main door. His silhouette in the open doorway caused her to flinch back and she was terrified that he might try again. The door closed behind him and she crawled forward to lock the door.
Moving with great care, knowing that she was leaving a trail of blood through the room, she curled up against the adjoining door and waited for morning.
* * * * * *
Osias lay looking at the ceiling. He had had to send her to bed without joining, or he would not have let her leave his bed. Patience and arousal were battling within him.
He had waited long enough. Myrik was almost through the change, and could manage just fine now without a bedmate.
With a disgusted grunt at his own impatience, he threw off the covers and crossed the room to open the connecting door. As it hissed open, the overwhelming scent of blood assailed his senses. He looked over at the bed with panic beginning within him. It was empty. A tiny whimper in the shadows near the door had him rapidly searching the darkness.
There she was. A tiny bundle against the wall, her eyes closed tightly, blood coating her body as she rocked back and forth.
“I will kill him.” The snarl was all that would emerge from his throat. He crossed to her side and touched her arm. He winced at her fearful whimper and reached the com unit to summon a medical team, with sedatives.
Not two seconds passed before the door to Miranda’s room hissed open and the medical team came forward with a the hypo in hand.
“How in hells did you…?” He trailed off as they applied the sedative to her arm and waited for it to take effect. There was only one way they could have known.
“Myrik sent us. He has turned himself in to the Captain and has been incarcerated for the remainder of the voyage.”
The brutal snarl of frustration was unmistakable. “Myrik. That little bastard. I should never have found him.”
“If you will get out of the way, Lord Aron, we will take her to medical. She will need the tank, based on the extent of the injuries. We will know more when she has been completely examined.” The medics had lifted her onto a suspended gurney and were trying to get past his extended wings.
He snapped them together and stood to one side. “When will she be conscious?”
“The doctor will have to tell you that. He is on his way to treat her as soon as we get her there. You may want to get dressed and follow.”
Osias looked down and cursed as he realized that he would be delayed in g
etting to the side of his slave. The pants only took moments, the boots a bit more until he was striding down the hall to the now all too familiar medical bay. The trail of blood on the deck tightened his gut as he easily followed it to the doctor’s station.
They had only just put her onto the scanner and were logging entries into her file for the doctor’s reference when he arrived. As they stretched her unconscious body out, the gashes left by Myrik’s claws were painfully obvious, as were the bite marks and the red welts between her thighs.
He had not just savaged her, he had raped her.
It would not go unpunished.
Rellik came into the bay, saw his patient, and started to swear in over a dozen languages. Osias recognized five, and the doctor was not withholding frustration in his verbal expressions.
“Myrik did this?”
“Yes.”
“Why? Why would he do so much damage? It doesn’t look like she fought very hard. No defensive wounds on her hands.”
“He would have just overpowered her with his weight and strength. He finished his growth cycle, and his mating cycle took over. She was there, that was all it took.”
Doctor Rellik crossed the room and a med tank slid from behind a panel and rapidly began to fill with fluid.
“She is going to need two or more weeks in the tank. I can’t knit that much flesh or heal her internal damage from out here. She was badly torn.”
The two medics that had brought her in began to insert probes and feeding tubes into her body. It took precious minutes, and by the time they were done, she was stirring.
Rellik approached her calmly and slowly. “Miranda, you are in medical, you were attacked and we are putting you into the tank. Do you understand?”
Her eyes widened and her gaze flew around the room settling on Osias. He nodded and gave her a small smile for comfort, then turned away as they raised her into the tank and the supporting fluid turned red with her blood. It would remain red until the filters finished processing it.
“There is nothing you can do for her here, Lord Aron. Go back to your quarters. We will call you if there are any changes in her status.” The hand on his shoulder was gentle, but firm. They wanted him out.
