Brides of the Kindred

Book 14: Enslaved

Evangeline Anderson

* * * * *

PUBLISHED BY:

Evangeline Anderson Books on Kindle

Brides of the Kindred

Book 14: Enslaved

Copyright © 2015 by Evangeline Anderson

Kindle Edition License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to Smashwords.com or Amazon.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author's work.

Author’s Note #1: To be the first to hear about new releases, join my new newsletter. I promise no spam—you will only get email from me when a new book is out for either preorder or for sale.

Author’s Note #2: I'm very excited to let you know that I am in the process of turning all of the Brides of the Kindred series into audio books. The first book, Claimed, is available here and is read by the award winning Anne Johnstonbrown. Readers are already raving over her ability to get all the voices just right and she has also agreed to narrate Hunted, which I hope to have in audio by the beginning of April, 2015. If you've never tried an audio book, they are very easy to download and great to listen to during long car trips and commutes, working out at the gym, or just while you're cleaning the kitchen.(Which is when I listen.) I find listening to a book gives it a whole different dimension and I think if you enjoyed reading the Kindred series, you'll love listening as well. So give it a try!

Author’s Note #3: Please no piracy. The Kindred pay my mortgage now and without them, I’d have to go back to doing MRI full time. Since writing hot sex and complicated emotions is way more fun than shoving people into a magnetic hole all day, I would ask that you please buy your book instead of trying to find a pirated copy and encourage your friends to do the same so that I can keep writing and you can keep reading. Thanks!

Hugs and Happy Reading to you all,

Evangeline Anderson January, 2015

Also by Evangeline Anderson

Brides of the Kindred books (in order)

Claimed (also available in print and audio)

Hunted (coming soon as an audio book)

Sought

Found

Revealed

Pursued

Exiled

Shadowed

Chained

Divided

Devoured (also available in print)

Enhanced

Cursed

Born to Darkness Paranormal series

Crimson Debt

Scarlett Heat

Ruby Shadows (coming as soon as my Muse gets over her mental block. Sorry guys!)

Stand Alone novels and novellas

Purity

Stress Relief

The Last Man on Earth

Blind Date with a Vampire

Shadow Dreams

Young Adult, writing as Emmaline Andrews

The Academy

Compendiums

Brides of the Kindred Volume One

(includes Claimed, Hunted, Sought and Found all in one volume)

***You can also find many other books by Evangeline at her website***

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Kindred 15: Targeted excerpt

Mastering the Mistress excerpt

Kindred Glossary

About the Author

Also by Evangeline Anderson

Chapter One

Thrace S’ver was in the dark place. The black place. The place where no light could shine. Behind him he heard the slaver shouting out his wares, offering his goods to the highest bidder.

Me. I’m the fucking goods, Thrace thought grimly. Just like I was back when—

No. Don’t think about it. Don’t let it in.

The internal voice sounded like his Sire—the male who had raised him from the ages of six to sixteen cycles. He had been in turns strict and compassionate, loving and stern and he had tried to train Thrace in the honorable and forthright ways of the Havoc. He had been Thrace’s whole world. Until…

Until he fucking died in a place like this.

He tried to clamp down on the thought and the memory that came with it but it was hard…so fucking hard. Especially with the shouts of the slaver ringing in his ears.

“Slaves for sale! Fresh from the Carnal Houses—slaves trained to fulfill your every wish and desire—your every fantasy.”

The slavers had injected his voice box with a paralytic which made it impossible to speak—nonetheless, Thrace gave a silent grunt of derision. Unless whoever bought him desired to die and had fantasies of being ripped apart limb-from-limb that particular claim was going to prove false.

He took a deep breath and then another. Calm. He had to remain calm.

No one looking at Thrace would have known about his homicidal plans. After a grim and completely silent struggle with the armed slavers who had beaten and stunned him into submission, he had retreated into himself. Outwardly he was calm to the point of catatonia—his eyes closed behind the blindfold and his breathing controlled—but inside his mind churned.

Never should have docked on Padge. Never should have taken a drink at that sleazy portside bar. Shouldn’t even be in this part of the galaxy!

None of it mattered. All that mattered now as getting out of here—getting his freedom back. After that he could return to get his ship, The Empress, out of dry dock and mount a hunt for his First Mate, Solar. And then he could spend some time taking the bartender who had spiked his drink and the slavers who had captured him apart piece by leisurely piece.

But none of that would be possible until he got free—and with the pain collar around his neck and the manacles that held his arms behind his back, that was impossible here. Better by far to wait until he was sold. And then…

Then I’ll kill the son-of-a-bitch who buys me and get the Seven Hells out of here, he thought grimly. Just like I did before.

* * * * *

Captain Lonarra Trin stopped in front of the platform where a huge male knelt, bound and blindfolded. His sheer size was what caught her eye at first—he had to be six foot eight if he was an inch and his massive bare chest and broad shoulders were ripped with muscle. He had jet black hair, just long enough to run your fingers through, if that was what you were after, with deep blue highlights that only showed if the light shone on it a certain way. His muscular arms were bound behind his back and his eyes were covered with a black blindfold.

Kindred maybe. Or something akin to one. Really quite gorgeous, she thought in a detached way. But not for me. I need something a little smaller—not so ostentatious. Still, she lingered beside the raised round platform where the massive slave knelt, not quite ready to go on for some reason.

She was looking for a body-slave but not for the usual reasons of the rich and indolent Mistresses of Yonnie Six. Trin was from Zetta Prime—a colony that had broken off from the main planet of Yonnie Six years ago. But though they were some light years away, the daughters of Zetta Prime, as they called themselves, still considered the Yonnie Empress their ruler and kept to their ways. Well—mostly.

Zetta Prime, like Yonnie Six, was a matrilineal society with little to no use for male input. It was ruled and peopled exclusively by females who passed on their wealth and privilege to their daughters.

But the daughters of Zetta Prime didn’t hold with the Yonnie practice of keeping a pet male around—a personal body-slave who would act as an errand boy, body guard, and means of sexual gratification. Not that the Yonnites ever allowed a male to penetrate them in any kind of sexual act. A true Yonnie Six mistress much preferred to do the penetrating herself with a strap-on rod which was inserted into the unfortunate male for punishment or pleasure, depending on how you looked at it.

The females of Zetta Prime didn’t practice male slavery or penetration. They simply believed in keeping their distance from males altogether and indeed, most Zettites were lesbians, preferring to love only other females.

Trin wasn’t interested in her own sex and never had been. But neither did she crave a male to scratch her itch. She had her own two hands and a more than adequate clitoral stimulator if that need arose. Unfortunately, as a merchant and a diplomat for the Zetta Prime ruling body, she had to deal with the haughty Yonnie Six society often. And when she showed up to one of the ruling body’s meetings without a body-slave to back her up, she was looked down upon and often as not, completely ignored.

That was the reason she was trolling the rows of slave for sale at the Flesh Bazaar located on Dominus Two—also known as the Hub. It had come to her, after Lady Malroth had snubbed her by refusing to even show up for a diplomatic trade agreement, that she could simply buy a male and train him to do as she wished. Which was mainly to look imposing and pretend to kowtow to her every wish whenever she was on Yonnie Six.

If he did a good job, she would teach him some useful skills—astral navigation perhaps if he was intelligent enough to learn it—and grant him his freedom after a year or two. She hated to condone the practice of slavery but it wasn’t like she actually knew any males she could offer the job of pretend body-slave to. There simply weren’t any on Zetta Prime.

It had seemed like a sound plan, lying in the sleeping chamber in her quarters aboard her ship, The Alacrity. But now, walking up and down the rows and seeing the misery and shame on so many faces, Trin wasn’t so sure. She wanted a willing slave—one who had been raised to it from childhood and had known no other life. Which was one reason the slaver’s cry of “Slavers fresh from the Carnal Houses” had gotten her attention. She’d thought that such a male would be more tractable and easier to train for her purposes.

Well this one doesn’t look a bit tractable, she admitted to herself, still staring at the huge, gorgeous male displayed like a dangerous beast in a menagerie. Like a beast, he was bound and wearing a collar—a pain collar, she saw with some distaste. Such devices connected to the pain centers of the wearer’s brain and forced them to feel agonizing shocks if the remote was pressed or a certain punishment word was spoken. Trin swore to herself never to use such a thing on whatever male she bought. But just the fact that the slaver had decided this particular male needed a collar to keep him in line let her know he wasn’t the one for her.

She started to walk on when the slaver in question sidled up to her. He was Xethian with the scaly green reptilian skin and a long, blunt snout rather than a nose. He wore ridiculously rich clothing as was the custom of his kind, showing off his wealth as a sign of success. To Trin it just looked like a sign of bad taste.

“I sssee you are admiring my wares, Mistress.” He bowed respectfully, a long, oily fringe of seaweed-like hair flopping over his narrow shoulders as he did.

“Ah…yes. Yes, I was.” Trin could barely hide her distaste. It took all her diplomatic training to keep from backing up, away from the unctuous, fawning slaver. “Kindred, is he?” she asked, to make conversation and take her mind off the swampy stench that was coming from under his ridiculously rich golden robes.

“Havoc, actually,” the slaver replied. “A distant genetic cousin to the Kindred with a few sssignificant differences. The most important being, Havocs do not form sssoul bonds with their females—which eliminates the concern of permanent ownership. If you don’t like him, you can sssimply get rid of him.”

“Well, that is a selling point,” Trin admitted. The idea of buying a male for use as a pretend body-slave and then winding up permanently bonded to him hadn’t even occurred to her. If it had, she probably would have run screaming in the other direction.

“They do have the sssame ssstrength, ssstamina, and courage as their genetic cousins,” the slaver continued. “With the added bonus of longevity. As long as a Havoc remains unbonded and unattached to any female, he will live hundreds of cycles in perfect health.”

“Wait.” Trin held up her hand. “I thought you said they couldn’t bond.”

“No, I sssaid they do not bond. The reason being that the moment they tie themselves to a female, they reduce their own lifespan to that of hers. Most are not willing to give up hundreds of cycles of life simply for the sssake of love.”

“Can’t say I blame them there,” Trin murmured. “Well, thank you for the interesting facts but I don’t think this male is for me. I just need a common body-slave to stand by me when I go on diplomatic missions. But I’m looking for something a little less…dangerous.”

“Oh, but this male is not dangerous—not a bit,” the slaver exclaimed quickly.

“Is that right?” Trin put a hand on her hip. Xethians weren’t exactly known for being the most truthful species in the universe. “Then why the blindfold and pain collar?”

“For show—most of my customers are from Yonnie Sssix. While I perceive you are…not?”

“What gave it away?” Trin said dryly. “The clothes or the color of my skin?”

“Both,” the slaver said. “Most females who come here from Yonnie Sssix looking for a body-ssslave are dressed much more…richly. And I have never seen one with brown skin before.”

“I’m from Zetta Prime—we have no use for overly fancy clothing,” Trin said motioning down at her plain black flight suit. “And my mother decided to use exotic sperm from a small, little known planet in the Milky Way galaxy when she conceived me at the Conception center. She was never sorry she did—nor am I.”

She had never been ashamed of her creamy light brown skin or her long, black hair. It wasn’t the Zetta Prime norm but Trin was proud of her exotic heritage and it showed in the way she spoke and carried herself.

“Of course, of course,” the slaver said quickly. “Which is why this male would be the perfect body-slave for you.”

“How do you figure that?” Trin raised an eyebrow at him. She couldn’t wait to hear this spin.

“Think of it, my lady—you are already most…unusual yourself. Different I should sssay. That in itself can be a problem when trying to deal with the denizens of Yonnie Sssix.”

“True, but how would having such a huge, ostentatious body-slave help me blend in?”

“Ahh, but you do not wish to blend in.” The slaver raised one scaly finger for emphasis. “If you are going to ssstand out anyway, you should make a ssstatement. And nothing commands respect on Yonnie Sssix like a huge, imposing male who is obviously broken to your will.”

“Hmm.” Though Trin hated to admit it, the slaver made sense. How many times had she seen the Mistresses of Yonnie Six parading around the assembly halls with the biggest, baddest, most dangerous-looking male they could find trailing on a leash behind them? And the Havoc male on the platform was huge and imposing enough to put any other body-slave to shame.

I’d like to see Lady Malroth snub me with him standing behind me, guarding my back, she thought eyeing the massive Havoc again.

Still, it would do no good to get such a large male unless he truly was tractable. And no matter how much the slaver reassured her, she couldn’t make herself believe this Havoc was the innocent, malleable slave he was promised to be.

“I don’t know,” she said, frowning. “I don’t know how I could control such a large male.”

“Easily,” the slaver said eagerly. “Observe.” He walked over to the platform and tapped the massive male on one arm. “Slave—get down from the display platform. This Mistress wishes to see you.”

The Havoc male didn’t twitch so much as a muscle. He wasn’t just unmoving—he appeared to have turned to stone, kneeling there on the round display platform.

“Do you hear?” The slaver raised the black blindfold, uncovering the most gorgeous eyes Trin had ever seen. They were a pale silver-blue that was almost white with a thin band of black around the irises.

Beast’s eyes, she thought, and shivered for some reason. But the slaver was still trying to get the Havoc’s attention.

“I sssaid get down!” he bawled and slapped the muscular arm more forcefully.

Again there was nothing. Not so much as a flicker of movement.

“This is your last chance.” There was an ugly look on the slaver’s reptilian face now—his snout was wrinkled in anger, his yellow eyes were enraged slits. “Ssstand now or taste the pain of your collar.”

The huge slave simply looked at him—or glared might be a better word. The extraordinary eyes narrowed and for a moment Trin thought he looked like a wild animal set to pounce. But he gave no other response and didn’t move so much as a muscle.

“You will move if I sssay ssso!” Clearly infuriated, the Xethian slaver pulled out a small black remote and pointed at the Havoc.

“No, wait!” Trin exclaimed. “I don’t want—”

But her protest came too late. The slaver pressed the button and the big body on the platform went suddenly rigid with agony. Trin watched in horror as the Havoc’s back arched and his head snapped back in pain. Every muscle on his big frame stood out as hard as a rock and the cords in the powerful column of his throat were rigidly defined.

The eerie thing was that he suffered in silence. Though it was clear he was in horrible pain, the Havoc never made so much as a whimper, let alone a plea for mercy. He just took it.

“Stop! Stop it!” Trin exclaimed. “Look, his face is getting red and he can barely breathe. Stop it now, you’re hurting him! That’s too much pain!”

“Pain is the point, my lady,” the slaver hissed malevolently. “And this ssslave needs to learn to do as I tell him if he does not want more pain than he can bear.”

“You’re giving him more than he can bear right now!” Trin protested. “Look, he’s about to faint! He—”

Before she could finish her words, the intractable Havoc male toppled off the platform, his entire long body going rigid, as though he was having some kind of a seizure.

“Stop!” Trin ordered again. “You’re killing him!”

“Why ssshould I not kill him? I will not have a ssslave who does not obey,” the slaver hissed petulantly.

“That’s enough—I’m through asking you.” Trin doubled her fist and gave the slaver a shot to his scaly jaw. She didn’t like to resort to physical violence but she couldn’t just stand by and watch the Havoc killed on a whim. The slaver’s long, boney jawbone sent a jolt of pain through her fingers as she connected, making her wonder briefly if she might have broken one or several, but the blow had the desired effect.

“Ssslurlesh!” It was obviously a curse in the slaver’s native tongue. He dropped the remote in surprise and it skittered across the floor. Trin ran after it. The slave’s broad back was still bowed in agony and she was afraid if she didn’t shut off the collar soon he might have permanent damage.

The little black remote was kicked by several feet but at last she got her hands on it and hurried back to the display—only to see the slaver standing there with one three fingered hand to his scaly jaw and a couple of security Crangs flanking him.

“This isss the one,” he said, pointing at her. “Ssshe ssstruck me with no provocation whatsoever!”

“I had plenty of provocation,” Trin said angrily. “He’s killing his slave. Just look!” She turned with the remote ready, hoping she was pressing the right button to stop the painful pulses.

The slave, whose entire body had been a rigid statue of pain, suddenly went limp and lay still on the metal floor. Trin ran over to him and checked his pulse. It was there—slow but steady—but he was completely out. Well, at least he’s still alive. She breathed a sigh of relief and turned back to the huge, lumpish security Crangs who looked like they were made of cooled lava deposits.

“See?” she demanded.

“It does not matter what the slaver, who is the one who is the owner of this slave, was doing to his slave which he owns,” one of the Crangs pronounced laboriously. “He is the owner of the one who is called the slave, not you.”

“Therefore, you must be the one who shall be arrested and tried in the Hub court that is called the place of law for the crimes you have committed,” the other Crang droned. “This is what is called justice.”

“Justice?” Trin exclaimed. “Have you been smoking mindbliss weed? You can’t arrest me for keeping this scaly bastard from killing someone.”

“He is not a someone who is having what are known as rights,” the first Crang said. “He is what is known as a slave and you are the one who is being in the wrong.”

“Therefore, come with us,” the second one said, reaching for her.

“Hold on a minute!” Trin knew what this meant. Those taken into custody at the Flesh Bazaar as often as not found themselves on the wrong side of the auction block when the hasty “trial” in the

Hub Court was over. All proceeds of such sales went to line the pockets of the corrupt officials who presided over the court so they were quick to hand down a guilty verdict. Trin had no intention of being sold to the highest bidder just because the scaly son-of-a-bitch slaver was angry that she’d taken a shot at him.

She took a hasty step backwards and nearly stumbled over the body of the huge Havoc who was still out like a light. It gave her an idea. “I may have overreacted,” she said, though she could barely force the words out. “But it was only because I didn’t want the slave I was intending to buy to be damaged.”

“Buy, you sssay?” The wounded slaver perked up considerably.

“Yes, buy,” Trin emphasized. “I’ve decided he’s the perfect slave for me. So…how much?”

The slaver’s eyes narrowed, rendering them nothing more than yellow slits.

“Fifty thousand credits,” he announced. “And not a sssentine less.”

“Fifty thousand?” Trin could scarcely believe her ears. “But that’s crazy. It’s ten times what even the best, most perfectly trained slave is worth and—”

“And you will pay or these fine Crangsss will take you to the court.” The slaver smirked at her.

“I—” Trin began, meaning to tell him to go procreate with himself. But the Crangs were coming towards her, their lumpish, rock-like hands outstretched, ready to drag her before the “court” where she would be declared guilty at once, stripped of her clothing and all her goods, and sent to the auction block. Fifty thousand credits was her entire savings and then some but there wasn’t much she could do—she was stuck.

“Yesss?” the slaver inquired. “You were sssaying?”

“I was saying wrap him up.” Trin sighed. “I’ll take him.”

Chapter Two

“He’s groaning again.” Sidna, The Alacrity’s resident medic, frowned at the huge slave who was sprawled on a small cot.

After wiping out her bank account to buy him, Trin had been forced to pay even more to have the security Crangs carry him aboard her ship. He was out cold—possibly brain damaged from the punishing jolts of the pain collar—and much too big and heavy for her to even try lifting or dragging on her own.

Currently he was installed in the only spare room on The Alacrity—the small connecting cabin that linked with Trin’s own suite of rooms. The space had originally been designed for a body slave to stay in since the ship had been built on Yonnie Six. It had been empty for the entire five years she’d been captain. Now it was filled to capacity—the massive Havoc took up the entire cot and overflowed it, his muscular bulk barely leaving room for the med-bot Trin had stationed in his room for assistance and security.

“I still think you should put him in the brig,” Sidna said. She was a small, trim woman of about fifty cycles with short, no-nonsense iron gray hair and sharp gray eyes to match. “That’s where we kept the Gox we transported last cycle.”

“The Gox was a dangerous animal with three inch long fangs and claws like knives,” Trin objected. “We took hazard pay to transport it. This is just a slave.”

“Don’t fool yourself, Trin—he’s a dangerous animal too.” Sidna nodded at the Havoc. “All males are but this one looks especially hazardous.”

“You can’t tell that just from looking at him,” Trin said uneasily. At least, she hoped not although what Sidna was saying actually matched with her own first impression of the Havoc male.

As she watched, a low groan broke from the slave’s lips and he twitched in his sleep, his face contorting into a mask of agony.

“Do you think he’s still having pain?” Trin asked, looking at the other female.

“Impossible to say.” Sidna shook her head. “How long did you say the pain collar was activated?” she asked.

Trin shrugged. “Don’t know. Five minutes maybe? I turned it off as quickly as I could but that bastard of a slaver had it set to its maximum pain threshold.”

Sidna sighed. “Could be permanent nerve damage—those collars the Yonnites use are no joke.”

“What can we do for him?” Trin asked. “I know the whole situation is a pain in the ass but I feel responsible for him now.”

Sidna shook her head again.

“Nothing to do but wait and see what happens when he wakes. I still don’t like him being so close to your room, though. He’s huge.”

“He might take a little handling,” Trin admitted reluctantly. “But the med-bot can manage him. I’ve got it set to alert me when he wakes.”

“What if he wakes up agitated or aggressive?” Sidna protested. “Think what kind of damage an animal of this size could do to the ship! Not to mention everyone aboard it. You’re not safe with him so close. Please, Trin, move him to the brig.”

“I know how to manage big animals,” Trin said grimly. “I grew up riding every day, remember?”

“A male is not a morse,” Sidna said severely.

Trin smiled. “A horse. They’re animals from Earth. My mother bought me a pair because I was so interested in the planet where she got the sperm that created me.”

“Yes, I’ve seen pictures—they’re huge,” Sidna said. “And so is this Havoc you bought but that doesn’t make them the same kind of animal.”

“I’ll be careful,” Trin promised her. “An animal is an animal—they just need to be gentled.”

Sidna sighed in exasperation. “At least keep a blaster on your belt.”

“I’ve got a stunner if it makes you feel better,” Trin said. “See?” She pulled out the small weapon and handed it to Sidna to make her point. “But I’m not going to use it on him—his nervous system has already been ravaged by that damn pain collar.”

“Which begs the question, will he ever recover from it enough to do you any good?” Sidna looked at the big form twitching on the bunk skeptically.

“You can answer that better than me,” Trin said. “If there isn’t permanent damage, do you think he’ll be up and around soon?”

“Hard to say. Havoc are said to be hardy—they’re an offshoot of the Kindred after all. And the Kindred are supposed to be damn near unkillable. He may make a full recovery but I don’t know if it will be in time to stand at your side through the next negotiation on Yonnie Six.”

“That’s been pushed back a bit,” Trin said. “I don’t have anything to bargain with right now and we’re low on credit.”

“Low on credit?” Sidna’s gray eyebrows shot up. “You said we were flush from that last deal you did in Charn. We made enough to give the whole crew bonuses. What happened?”

“He happened.” Trin sighed and nodded down at the prone slave. “I…had to pay a bit more than I planned for him.”

“How much more?” Sidna wanted to know.

“I’d rather not say,” Trin said briskly. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter. I have a little left—enough to buy a good shipment of Jaxite crystals for the trade negotiations when we do get back to Yonnie Six.” She didn’t mention that the little credit she had was her personal nest egg—the small amount she kept back only for extreme emergencies and never touched. If this deal didn’t go well, she would be completely out of options.

“Jaxite is rare,” Sidna pointed out. The smoky blue crystals were used in the distillation of Dream Gas—a high priced commodity on the decadent Yonnie Six. “If you only have a little credit left, how are you going to afford them?”

Trin busied herself with making sure the med-bot’s settings were correct.

“I’ve heard from a reliable source that there’s a load of it for sale in the Demon’s Eye and I’ve already contacted the seller. If we can get there before anyone else, he’ll sell them to me at cost.”

“The Demon’s Eye?” Sidna put a hand on one slim hip. “Just how desperate are you, Trin? That place is a cesspool of filth and danger. I know hardened pirates who’d be afraid to cross its boarders. The crew won’t like this—not a bit.”

“They don’t have to like it,” Trin said stubbornly. “Once we get there I’m going in alone.”

“What? But you can’t—”

“I’m the captain of this ship and I can do what I deem necessary.” Trin hardened her voice purposefully. “I mean it, Sidna—I don’t want to hear any more about it.”

The medic looked like she wanted to say something else but Trin lifted her chin and frowned at her, letting her know she wouldn’t tolerate any more talk about the matter.

She didn’t like to pull rank on Sidna—the older woman was like an aunt to her and she normally gave good advice. But in this case, Trin was backed into a corner. Her credit was almost nonexistent, the payment on The Alacrity was due, and they only had enough fuel for one more run. They had to get liquid and fast. The Jaxite shipment seemed like the best way to do that—even if it wasn’t the safest way.

“I can handle it, Sidna,” she said, making her voice a little softer. “Really.”

Sidna looked at her, her lips thinned down to a bloodless line.

“Fine, Captain. Should I tell the navigator to set a course for the Demon’s Eye?”

“I’ll tell her myself as soon as I finish tending to my new…acquisition.” Trin grimaced as she looked at the huge Havoc, still twitching on his small cot.

“Fine. But I still say he’s dangerous.”

“I can manage him,” Trin snapped, losing her patience. “And if you’re so worried, you can keep your distance. I’ll tend to him myself.”

Sidna’s lips got even thinner.

“As you wish, Captain.” Turning on her heel, she left Trin to look down at the huge slave and wonder what the hell she’d gotten herself into.

Chapter Three

“You, boy, up on your feet. Let me see what my credit has bought.”

Thrace rises on unsteady legs but he isn’t fast enough. A big hand snakes out and slaps him hard across the face. He reels backward, off balance because his arms are bound behind his back. Before he can fall, armed guards catch him and thrust him upright, their loud, trollish laughter ringing in his ears.

“Stand before the Master, boy!” one growls. “And enjoy it while you can. You’ll be kneeling before him soon enough.”

I am Havoc, Thrace reminds himself. I fear no male. I have honor and strength within. Such are the words that his Sire has taught him—the lessons he tried to instill every day. But he isn’t there to teach Thrace anymore. He’s gone…dead…. He was killed while trying to keep Thrace from being sold to the male who stands before him now, the one who calls himself Master.

Father, Thrace thinks, trying not to remember, trying not to see it all again. The shouting and the way his Sire had struggled when the male from Gemma won his auction—won Thrace as his slave.

“No—you shall not have him! Not my son!” he had shouted, kicking and struggling against the security Crangs as they attempted to lead him away. And then the man who had bought Thrace stepped forward with a weapon on his hand. He had pointed it at the center of his Sire’s broad chest and…and…

Don’t think of it! Thrace orders himself but he can’t help it. Can’t help seeing the bloody, gaping hole that opened in his Sire’s chest…the shocked look on his face as he stumbled to his knees…the callous way the man who is called Master threw a sack of clinking gold credit-coins at the slaver.

“For your trouble. I can’t stand mouthy slaves.”

The slavers had been more than happy with their compensation. Thrace’s Sire had been dragged away, leaving a bloody trail behind his limp corpse and Thrace, still shocked and horrified, had been led in the opposite direction. A day and a night in a dark cargo hold had followed and now he was standing before the male who had killed his Sire and bought his contract. The male who now owned him body and soul.

Father, he thinks again, his throat tight. What is to become of me?

He will not weep—it is weak and weakness is not the Havoc way. But he can’t help the way his eyes burn when he remembered his Sire, the only parent he had ever known.

“Promising…very promising,” the Master says, appraising Thrace with small, greedy eyes. “Though you haven’t got your full growth yet, have you my boy?”

Thrace looks down at himself. Havoc males don’t reach full physical maturity until their eighteenth cycle and he is barely sixteen cycles old. He is a good height but not nearly as tall as his Sire—not yet—and his arms and legs are slender and undeveloped. He is strong for his size but not strong enough to break the chains that hold him.

Not that strength and size did his Sire any good. He was killed despite his size…or maybe because of it. Doubtless the Master didn’t think he could handle a full grown Havoc although apparently an adolescent one isn’t beyond him. So he thinks.

“A beautiful boy, just the same,” the Master says, nodding. “Those eyes especially—lovely. And that tight little ass…” He has the guards turn Thrace in a circle so that he can be admired from all angles.

It makes Thrace feel sick to be so displayed and he doesn’t like the hungry look in those small, greedy eyes. It is as though he is a prime cut of meat the Master wants for his dinner. But he refuses to let his fear show. He glares back, never dropping his gaze when the Master looks at him, taking the measure of the male who killed his Sire.

The Master is a medium sized male with thinning gray hair and rings on every finger. His rich robes of purple halla-cloth cannot hide his paunch but they do proclaim him one of the royal elite of Gemma, not that Thrace cares about that. He only wants to kill the male who killed his Sire. But in order to do that, he must first get free.

“Very nice,” the Master says, nodding again. “And look at that lush mouth. I think we should look into training those sweet lips first. What do you say, eh boy?”

Thrace glares at him. “I say anything you put in my mouth, I’m going to bite off, Master,” he growls.

But his threat only makes the Master laugh.

“A feisty one! I like it. It will make breaking you that much more amusing.” He gestures to the guards. “Now leave us. I want some time alone with my new slave.”

“No!” Thrace tries to move away from the seeking fingers of his new master but he is trapped, unable to move, unable to get away. If only his arms were free…if only he could get his hands around the Master’s throat…

* * * * *

“Whoa—take it easy, big fella!” Trin leaned over the thrashing slave. He was moaning and growling, making deep, hoarse sounds that reminded her of vids she’d watched about the Earth predators called lions. The deep bass rumble coming from his vast chest was like the beginnings of a roar. It was unnerving but it also plainly signaled some kind of distress.

Trin wouldn’t have left one of her horses if it was in pain and she wouldn’t leave the Havoc either. She had bought him and she was responsible for him—it was that simple.

“Take it easy,” she murmured again, bending over him to press a wet towel to his sweating forehead.

Suddenly the Havoc’s eyes popped open, showing that extraordinary silver-blue color she’d found so arresting before.

“Hey,” Trin said, frowning. “You’re awa—”

Before she could get the word out, one muscular arm shot out and long fingers closed around her throat.

Trin gasped through her suddenly narrowed airway and beat against his broad chest.

“Stop—let go!” she choked out, barely able to get the breath to talk. “Let go!”

The slave’s eyes narrowed and he squeezed harder. He seemed to be mouthing something at her, some word she couldn’t understand. Was it…Master?

Trin tried to tell him to let her go again but she couldn’t get any air. Bright specks of light were beginning to dance before her eyes and she realized she was beginning to lose consciousness. She had to do something quickly or she wouldn’t have to worry about what happened in the Demon’s Eye—she’d be dead long before she got there.

Desperately, she fumbled at her belt but there was nothing there. Dimly she remembered handing the stunner to Sidna to prove she was protected. But had the medic ever given her weapon back? Trin didn’t think so. They’d had their fight and then Sidna had stalked off, presumably taking the stunner with her.

Please, Goddess—I don’t want to die! she thought, gazing down into the glaring silver-blue gaze of the huge Havoc. I don’t want to die…

* * * * *

The Master’s face was all he could see. The thinning gray hair, the greedy eyes, the fat jowls that quivered in anticipation when the Master came to get what he wanted…

But suddenly the hated face melted away. The thinning gray pate was replaced by a long, black main of silky hair. The narrow lips turned full and lush—the color of ripe berries. And the small, greedy eyes became large and dark and full of pain.

Thrace stared in confusion as the transformation took place. Who the hell was this female and why was he choking her?

Gods—he was choking her! Choking a female—hurting a female! Though the Havoc did not bond with females for life like their genetic cousins, the Kindred, they still had a strict code of honor when it came to the other sex. Foremost in that code was that a Havoc never, never physically injured a female.

Gods! He let her go, forcing his hand which had been clamped around her slim throat to relax and drop to his side. She fell back choking, her hand going to her throat as she tried to get enough air.

Thrace was horrified at what he’d done to her. Who was she, anyway? She looked like someone he knew or had met once in another life. She had creamy, light brown skin the likes of which he’d never seen before. It was beautiful…unusual…and vaguely familiar.

The female, he thought. The one who was talking with the damn slaver just before he started the pain collar. The one who…bought me? Did she buy me? Does she think she’s my new Mistress?

Suddenly an agonizing bolt of pain hit his ankle and traveled up his entire body. He felt every muscle locking up, going rigid with pain. And then…nothing.

* * * * *

“He’s out.” Sidna was breathing hard. “Are you all right, Trin?”

“I…think so.” Trin massaged her throat delicately. “He’s got a hell of a grip.”

Sidna sighed in relief. “Thank the Goddess he didn’t get both hands around your neck or I would have been too late.” She handed the stunner back to Trin. “Here. I was coming to bring this back to you when I saw what was happening. I don’t like to say I told you so but it’s clear he’s a vicious, savage beast.”

“He’s not.” Trin coughed, feeling the burn in her throat. “He let me go before you stunned him.”

“He what?” Sidna frowned at her.

“I think he was having some kind of a nightmare. He was thrashing and moaning and I was trying to calm him down. He grabbed me when he was still half asleep and he was trying to say something. I think…” She frowned. “I think it was ‘Master.’”

“Great.” Sidna put a hand on her hip. “So you’re saying he had a nightmare about his last master and his response was to try and choke him? What does that say about what kind of slave he is, Trin? Why do you think he was being sold in the first place?”

“I don’t know,” Trin said stubbornly. “But I still don’t think he meant to hurt me.”

“Well, whether he meant to or not, he nearly killed you. You’re going to have some serious bruises there.” Sidna examined her neck critically. “Will you please move him into the brig now?”

“How?” Trin demanded. “He’s out cold and he’s huge, as you pointed out. The whole crew together isn’t strong enough to move his mass from here to the brig.”

“Well, you have to at least restrain him,” Sidna said. “I mean it, Trin—it’s not safe to let him stay loose. The whole crew is in danger this way.”

“I guess you’re right,” Trin said reluctantly. “Do we still have the manacles we used on the Gox?”

“We do. Want me to bring them up?”

“I guess you’d better.” For some reason, Trin still felt reluctant to shackle the big Havoc. She honestly didn’t think his attack on her had been on purpose. But she could tell that Sidna wouldn’t feel safe otherwise and that probably went double for the rest of the crew.

“We’ll chain him to the cot for now,” the medic said. “But if he wakes up in a belligerent mood, I still think we should move him to the brig. We can hold a blaster on him and force him to move there under his own power if we have to.”

“All right.” Trin sighed. “Go get the manacles.”

After Sidna left, she stared down at the huge Havoc who was still out cold. Who had he been seeing when he tried to choke the life out of her? And what had happened to him to provoke such a murderous reaction?

She wasn’t sure she wanted to find out.

Chapter Four

Thrace woke for the second time, gasping like a male whose head has finally broken the surface of a pounding sea. In his case, a sea of nightmares. Memories he’d carefully suppressed for years were crowding into his mind, flowing in like cold, slimy sewage trying to drown him.

Gods, where am I? He looked around the small room he was in. It was dimly lit with bare metal walls. A cell of some kind? He tried to sit up but his body wouldn’t obey. Then he heard a metallic clinking and felt the manacles around his wrists. A surge of panic hit him and a low growl began to build in his chest.

The Master! He’s chained me up again! That means it’s only a matter of time before he comes in and—

“So you’re finally awake. Again.”

The unfamiliar voice made him jerk his head—the only part of him which was able to move freely. A familiar face came into view—a female with creamy, light brown skin and long black hair. She was lovely, with big, dark eyes and delicate features. Her full lips were the color of ripe berries.

And there were finger-shaped bruises in a ring around her slender neck.

Thrace had a vague memory of throttling her and felt a surge of shame. I did that to her. Me—I did it. But why?

He seemed to remember bad dreams, memories coming back of things he’d buried years before. The Master, he thought uneasily. I thought she was the Master…

But why was he thinking of that bastard now? What had unearthed the bad memories of the past?

As he stared at the female’s face, it all began coming back to him. The seedy portside bar on Padge where he and Solar had gone to drink while The Empress was repaired. Being captured by the slavers…sold on the auction block at the Flesh Bazaar…. Sold, apparently, to this female here. The one who had been eyeing him before that bastard of a slaver used the fucking pain collar on him.

He opened his mouth to talk—to demand that she untie him—but nothing came out but a low croak. More memories came back.

That fucking slaver—the paralytic he injected into my vocal chords… But shouldn’t it have worn off by now?

“Don’t try to talk,” the girl said. Her slim brown hand came towards his face and Thrace tried to jerk away, certain she was holding some kind of a weapon. Retribution, maybe, for the way he’d hurt her.

“Hold still, she admonished him. “You’re sweating like crazy—I’m trying to cool you down. Not that it ended very well the last time I tried it.” She touched her fingertips to her bruised throat and winced before reaching for him again.

Thrace watched as her hand descended to his face. He tried to raise his own hand to stop her but the manacles held him fast. He was tied down and helpless—there was nothing he could do.

He felt his breathing go short and sharp as his heart started to pound. There was nothing worse than this feeling of helplessness—the feeling of being tied down and unable to move while another acted upon you.

Ha—“acted upon you.” That’s a nice way to put it, growled a sarcastic voice in his head. Really fucking poetic considering—

The hand reached his face and something soft and cool and slightly damp caressed his forehead. Thrace jerked again—this time in surprise.

“See you big silly? It’s just a wet cloth. Just to make you feel better.” The girl spoke to him in a soft, coaxing voice, almost as though she was talking to a wounded animal or a sick child. “Not gonna hurt you, big fella,” she went on, stroking his hot cheeks with the cloth too. “Just trying to help you get well.”

Thrace stared at her uncertainly. He had nearly choked the life out of her—why was she touching him so gently? And why was she talking to him like he could barely understand him? He opened his mouth again.

“Un…tie,” he finally managed to croak.

“I can’t do that, sorry,” she said.

“Un…tie!” Thrace demanded more forcefully, though it hurt his throat.

“I can’t and it’s your own fault.” The girl frowned at him. “I can’t let you go, not after you did this.” She touched her bruised throat with her fingertips again. “Not that I think you did it on purpose,” she went on quickly before he could formulate a reply. “But I’m pretty much the only person who feels that way. The rest of the crew all think you’re some kind of crazed psychopathic monster and honestly, they didn’t have that high of an opinion of you even before you tried to strangle me. Because you’re male, I mean.” She sighed and shook her head. “If I let you up to roam around the ship I’d have a mutiny on my hands.”

Thrace looked at her appraisingly. So she was the captain of a ship—which was probably where he was being held. The question was, how the hell did he get loose and get out of here? Experimentally, he tried the manacles again but they were incredibly strong—some kind of alloy maybe. Thrace doubted he’d be able to break them.

“Those are plasti-dura-steel,” she said conversationally. “We used them last cycle when we transported a Gox. Have you seen them? They’re these huge, hairy beasts—about your size but they have two hundred times the strength of a normal male. So you might as well give up. You’re going to be manacled to your cot until I can be sure you’re not a risk to me or my crew.”

Thrace opened his mouth but his voice didn’t want to work at all now. Damn it, when would the paralytic wear off? Or were his problems vocalizing due to the merciless bout of agony he’d experienced when the slaver used the pain collar on him? Either way, when he tried to speak, all that came out was a croak.

“Look, you’ve been out for hours,” the girl said. “Are you thirsty?”

Thrace tried to say “yes” but again, only a dry croak came out this time.

“Don’t try to speak—your voice needs to recover like the rest of you,” the girl admonished. “Just nod your head if you want a drink.”

Stiffly, he nodded.

“Good. Here.” She was already holding a long silver metal container with a flexible straw stuck in it. She put it to his lips but Thrace turned his head away as more memories washed over him.

Drink it up, there’s a good slave, crooned the Master’s physician. It’s to relax you…it’ll get you ready, make things a little easier…

The girl frowned, clearly not understanding his silent refusal of the drink.

“I thought you said you were thirsty? Don’t worry—it’s just nutrient water. See?” She wrapped her lush, berry-colored lips around the clear straw and sucked, letting Thrace see her drink and swallow. “See?” she said again when she was finished.

He looked at her for a long moment. Surely she wouldn’t have taken a drink of the stuff herself if it was drugged or poisoned. It was just that his head was still fuzzy and the past kept getting tangled up with the present.

The girl looked at him and held the cup patiently, waiting for him to make up his mind. At last Thrace decided he had no choice but to trust her. Slowly, he inclined his head.

“Good,” she said briskly. “I’m glad you’re willing to at least try it.”

She placed the straw gently between his lips and held the cup for him while Thrace took an experimental sip.

The minute the cold, slightly sweet liquid hit his tongue, his thirst exploded. He drank quickly, almost gulping in his eagerness.

“Whoa…whoa—take it easy, big fella,” the girl cautioned. “You don’t want to make yourself sick. Take it slowly—there’s more where that came from.”

Thrace finished what was in the cup and lay back, letting his head rest on the pillow.

“Good. That’s good.” The girl seemed pleased.

Though she wasn’t really a girl, Thrace thought, studying her. He estimated her age to be somewhere in the mid to late twenties—younger than himself but old enough to know what she was doing. She had a calm self-confidence about her that was impressive.

She was studying him as well.

“I guess I’d better come up with a name for you.” She sounded thoughtful. “I can’t keep calling you big fella and big guy.”

He glared at her.

“Have…name,” he croaked, finally getting a few words out. “Thrace.”

“Thrace, huh? Okay.” She nodded. “I’m Trin—Captain Lonnara Trin of The Alacrity. I wasn’t sure if your people had names or not—some species don’t, you know.” She shrugged. “Anyway, you’ll have to excuse me. I’m from Zetta Prime so I don’t know much about males. Also, I’ve never owned a slave before so there’s going to be a pretty steep learning curve here.”

Thrace glared at her, his arms tensing in the manacles until his biceps bulged and the chains rattled menacingly.

“Not…” He choked, his voice failing him again. “Not…slave!” The harsh words were tearing his throat to ribbons but he’d be damned if he let her think she owned him. “Not…slave!”

She frowned. “So you weren’t raised in the Carnal Houses and trained to serve all your life?”

He shook his head violently.

“All right.” She nodded. “I believe that. But I don’t believe you’re not a slave. Why else did you call me ‘Master’ when you tried to choke me?”

Thrace subsided, looking away. Even if he could have talked, there was no way in all the Seven Hells that he would tell her about his past.

“Uh-huh.” Trin was looking at him thoughtfully. “Hit a nerve, didn’t I? Don’t suppose you care to tell me what happened to your last master, do you?”

He turned his head to look at her, letting all the hated and rage show in his eyes.

Trin flinched away from his look of hate.

“All right, so you don’t want to talk about it. Fine. We can discuss it later. But just so you know, I’m not unchaining you until I know what I’m dealing with.”

Thrace just kept glaring. Never—he was never going to speak aloud what had happened back so many cycles ago. To speak memories aloud was to give them new life…new power. And this slim girl with the creamy brown skin and big, dark eyes already had much too much power over him to start with.

He rattled his chains again menacingly. Not that she would have him in her power for long. Thrace was going to be certain of that.

* * * * *

Trin watched the emotions play over his strong features. Clearly he was angry that she’d dared to question him. Well, he could be angry all he wanted—she wasn’t letting him up until she had some answers.

He shifted on the cot, his big body straining against his bonds. His biceps bulged and his torso and hips moved as he shifted, causing his abdominals to ripple impressively.

Trin had never seen a being who was so muscular before—with each muscle group so well defined. It was…interesting. It almost made her want to touch him—to pet his smooth, tan skin which was several shades lighter than her own—but something held her back.

She’d been treating him like one of her horses—like a big, dumb animal that needed patience and understanding. But there was a fierce intelligent blazing in those extraordinary silvery-blue eyes. It made her question her people’s long held belief that males were little better than animals with limited understanding and brainpower.

Maybe it would be better just to leave him alone for a while. She was about to get up and go when she realized what all the shifting around was about. He wasn’t just trying to get free—he’d been out for hours and a few minutes ago he’d drunk a huge cup of liquid. He needed to relieve himself.

“You have to go, right?” she asked, looking at him directly. No point in beating around the bush.

He looked at her mistrustfully and then gave a short, curt nod.

Great! Just great. Her suspicion confirmed, she sighed internally. Not only had she bought a slave who was angry and hostile, she was now his sole caretaker since she and Sidna had had their falling out. And she was going to have to help him since she didn’t dare to let him help himself.

Well, luckily the med-bot was set up for this kind of thing. It had a long, sliver tube that connected to various parts of the anatomy for waste disposal. As long as all he had to do was urinate, it shouldn’t be too bad.

“Okay,” she said, reaching for the clasp of his too-tight black leather trousers. “Now I don’t know a lot about male anatomy but—”

A low rumbling growl began at the bottom of his deep chest and turned into a full throated roar of pure rage.

The deep, bass noise shook and surprised her. It reminded her again of the sound made by the lions from Earth which she’d studied. Maybe he was part animal after all!

Trin jumped back and looked up to see him glaring at her with such intense hatred on his face it hit her like a blow.

Goddess, what’s wrong with him? She’d never seen such fury and all because she’d tried to help him. All because she was going to open his trousers and…Oh.

Suddenly she understood. She’d told him that she bought him as a slave and that she came from Zetta Prime. Possibly he thought her people used body slaves the same way the mistresses from Yonnie Six did. Another look at the way his broad chest was heaving and his big body was twitching confirmed her guess. He looked like her stallion, Swift, when he was nervous and ready to rear. When he got like that, he would shy and lash out at the least little thing and the big Havoc, Thrace, looked the same way.

Trin had no idea how to deal with a strange male but she did know how to gentle a nervous horse.

“Look,” she said softly in a low, even voice. “I’m not going to hurt or abuse you. I know what you must think but I didn’t buy you for any kind of sexual service, I swear.”

He had stopped struggling now and was simply looking at her. His muscular chest was still heaving but at least his eyes had lost some of the intense hatred that had filled their silver-blue depths when she reached for his trousers.

“I’m not that kind of female.” Trin risked a touch on his arm—gentle and non-sexual. He still couldn’t move but she could feel him thrumming like a plucked string—as tight as a wire with tension. It wasn’t just hatred and anger he felt—it was fear. A fear so deep it harrowed his very soul.

Though she was trying to remain detached and calm, his terror touched her heart. No wonder he was afraid—she would be too if she’d woken up in a strange place chained to the bed with someone reaching for the front of her trousers.

“It’s okay,” she reassured him again. “I have no interest in males at all but someone has to get you connected to the med-bot so you can relieve yourself. See?” She held up the long, snaky silver tube with its soft plasti-coupling on the end. “I just need to get this connected with your, uh, equipment and then you can go.”

His eyes blazed at her for a long moment and Trin thought she could feel him evaluating her motives. He was asking himself once again if he trusted her—just as he had when she offered him the drink. Then she’d been able to take a drink herself and prove it was all right. Unfortunately with this exercise, she wasn’t able to prove anything. So she simply waited quietly, meeting his silver-blue gaze and letting him size her up.

Finally, he nodded.

“All right, good,” Trin said briskly, reaching for his trousers again. “Let’s see if we can get this done as quickly as possible.”

* * * * *

Thrace gritted his teeth as he watched her slim, brown hands unfasten the magno tabs at the front of the too-tight black leather trousers the slavers had forced him to wear. Gods, this was humiliating! Not just the fact that he needed her help to relieve himself, but also the way he’d reacted to her touch in the first place.

His people, the Havoc, did not bond with females or have any kind of long-lasting relationships with them. In fact, the Havoc code was, We do not bond. But that didn’t mean he didn’t enjoy female attention from time to time. Usually he sought out some willing prosti whenever The Empress was docked for repairs or refueling and scratched his itch that way.

He was always careful to use protection and he always paid in advance—he was a good customer and he enjoyed unattached sex—enjoyed it a hell of a lot. And yet the minute this gorgeous girl with the unusual creamy brown skin like nothing he’d ever seen before reached for him, he went fucking crazy.

It was his past again, trying to creep in—Thrace knew it but he didn’t want to admit it. Instead, he tried to calm his nerves but it wasn’t easy. The feeling of lying here helpless while someone else handled his shaft was fucking terrifying. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go—he liked to be in control, liked to be on top of the situation both literally and figuratively.

Relax, he told himself roughly as she got his trousers unfastened at last and pealed the too-tight leather apart. She said herself this is nothing sexual. She has no interest in males. So just relax and try to endure it.

He closed his eyes as she reached for him but cutting off the light let the rush of dark memories overcome him again.

Let’s have a look at this shaft, the Master said, reaching for him. Nice, very nice…

Thrace snapped his eyes open again. Gods, what was wrong with him? He hadn’t thought of those bad, old memories in years. Had been sure he was over it, over and done with the things that fucker had done to him. But this situation was bringing everything back like a flood of dirty water seeping under the door of his conscious mind. It was as if everything he’d tried so hard to forget was just waiting there, waiting for the right trigger to move back into his brain and set up shop.

Desperately, he focused on the girl in front of him, on her lovely hands as she reached for him. They were long and slim with the unusual creamy brown skin color—completely unlike the hairy, liver-spotted hands of his old Master. Her fingers were long and tapered and delicate and her touch was gentle, not rough.

Not the Master, he told himself over and over. She’s just a girl—a female you don’t even know. She’s not the Master.

Her touch was reassuringly impersonal. Thrace was relieved when she didn’t linger overlong as she touched him. She simply pulled his shaft out of his trousers in a matter of fact way and inserted it into the soft end of the flexible metal tube.

He was completely limp, despite her beauty and the soft touch of her small hands. In other circumstances, if she’d been a willing prosti he was visiting, he would have been hard as a rock. But the feeling of complete helplessness, of being unable to control what was happening to him, robbed him of any desire he might have felt.

And even if he had been inclined to get hard, this girl looked nothing like a prosti. She had an innate class and regality that professional sex workers lacked. She was what his Sire would have called a “lady.” Not the kind of female for a quick fuck and run—his favored way of scratching the sexual itch.

When the operation was finished and he had relieved himself, she unhooked him from the metal tubing and tucked his shaft neatly back into his trousers. It went meekly back to position, curled like a sleeping snake against his belly.

“There.” She re-fastened his trousers rose from the side of the cot. “Now I need to go check on some things—this ship won’t run itself and I need to get the navigator to plot a new course. Will you be all right for now?”

Slowly, he nodded.

“Good. I’ll be back to check on you later and bring you something to eat. Try to rest.”

Then she was gone, leaving a faint, lingering scent of sweetness behind her.

* * * * *

Trin was distracted for hours after her encounter with her new slave. He bothered her…and not just because she suspected something serious had happened with his last Master. There was something about the huge Havoc she’d spent her entire bank account on that drew her. But what? Well, there was the fact that he was so different from anyone she’d ever known for one thing—she couldn’t help remembering his rippling abs and muscular biceps. She had never been around males much—certainly not enough to develop an appreciation for the male physique. But even she had to admit that the big Havoc was impressive.

But it wasn’t just the way he looked that interested her—it was the way he acted. The way he’d distrusted her at first when she tried to give him a drink, the way he’d flinched from her touch and his deep, bass roar the first time she’d tried to open his trousers.

Why did he dread being touched? What did he fear? What had happened to him to make him that way?

Maybe something the slavers or his old master did to him, she speculated idly as she checked and re-checked the new course the navigator had set for the Demon’s Eye. Maybe just waking up in a strange place and finding himself chained down. That would be disturbing to anyone—I sure as hell wouldn’t want it happening to me!

She hoped she might be able to let him up eventually but that wasn’t going to happen until she got some answers out of him. Anyway, there was no denying he was easier to manage in his current condition. Even lying on his back, the Havoc was huge—every part of him more than twice as big as every part of her and she was considered tall and well proportioned for a female on her home planet. Plus, she’d felt his terrifying strength for herself first hand. She touched her bruised throat and winced. No pun intended.

Just keep treating him like a spooked horse, she told herself. After all, her equine pets outweighed and outmassed her many times over and she still managed them quite nicely. Of course, neither of them had ever tried to throttle her.

Trin sighed, thinking of them now. Her stallion, Swift, galloping in the pastures of purple grass and pink gana flowers in the fields by her mother’s house…and her mare, Silk, tossing her glossy main and neighing like thunder the moment she caught sight of Trin coming over the rolling hills towards her.

The two of them were old now and they had never managed to breed for some reason. Every time Trin spoke to her mother she was afraid one or both of them might be gone but they carried on, always happy to greet her when she made one of her increasingly infrequent trips home.

But could she really equate the Havoc she’d inadvertently bought to the large equine pets she’d left back home? For all his voice didn’t allow him to speak much, he at least was able to manage a few words. And there was awareness burning in his striking eyes—intelligence she couldn’t deny just because he was male. Intelligence and something else…some veiled threat or barely buried rage she couldn’t name but also couldn’t discount.

Trin decided she would have to keep a close eye on him. Though she hated to admit it, Sidna was right about one thing—the Havoc was big enough and strong enough to cause a lot of damage and injury if he went on some kind of a rampage.

She patted the stunner in the pocket of her black flight jumpsuit. She wasn’t going to give him a second chance unless he earned it.

Chapter Five

Thrace lost track of the time he spent chained to the narrow cot. He spent many long hours trying to force the memories which had been unearthed like half-rotted corpses back into their crypts. It wasn’t easy. Being restrained and unable to do anything for himself brought the past back strongly—too strongly to be denied or ignored.

To counter it, Thrace instinctively knew he needed something positive. Something to take his mind off what he had suffered, something to distract him from the agonies of the past.

He chose his new mistress, Trin.

Not that she was really his mistress—he sure as hell wouldn’t call her that even if she had bought and paid for him. He did accord her the title of “captain.” She owned the ship he was prisoner on and kept the crew in order and she appeared to do it effortlessly—though he knew from personal experience it was much harder than it looked.

He could hear her talking to various crew members from time to time since their voices echoed in the long, metal corridors and he had to reluctantly acknowledge that she handled herself and her responsibilities well.

Her calm self possession in the face of his own rage was also remarkable. Thrace had known fully grown males who cowered when he was in one of his moods. Trin simply spoke gently and looked at him with those big, dark eyes, meeting his gaze without fear or any anger of her own.

All in all, impressive.

Not to mention fucking gorgeous—a fact he mostly noticed at night.

Though she mostly dressed in the black flight jumpsuit which covered her considerable curves, she always came to check on him before she went to sleep. At those times, she was usually dressed for bed and her sleep outfits were considerably more revealing than the jumpsuit—a fact that wasn’t lost on Thrace.

Trin didn’t seem embarrassed to walk around half dressed in front of him at all. At first he’d thought she was deliberately teasing him. When she leaned over him, showing the creamy brown swells of her breasts or walked past his cot in a slip-like garment that barely covered her to mid thigh and showed her long, smooth legs, he was sure she was tormenting him on purpose.

But gradually he came to understand she didn’t realize what she was doing. It was as though she thought of him as an animal—one of her pet horses which she had told him about when she came in to tend and check on him.

It was fucking insulting and yet, probably not that surprising when he thought about it. After all, she came from a world virtually without males. How could she know the effect she was having on him? She probably did think of him as a kind of pet. After all, he was completely dependant on her for everything—food and water and shelter. How else would she see him?

Thrace supposed she wouldn’t be embarrassed to let a pet see her half-naked and it didn’t bother her for him to see her that way either. The difference was, a pet didn’t get hard at the sight of his mistress half unclothed.

Of course, at first, neither did Thrace. Being chained down and helpless was an effective damper for his lust—it was too much like his time with the old Master. The manacles around his wrists provoked too many painful memories.

But as the days went by, he grew used to it—as used to it as he could, anyway. And as he grew accustomed to being restrained, it actually became easier to push the old memories away and concentrate on his new reality. And on Trin.

The situation came to a head on the night when she came in, dressed for sleep in a thin, see-through white gown that fell to her thighs and a silky robe to match that belted loosely around her small waist. The berry-dark points of her nipples were clearly visible pressing against the thin fabric and when she bent over, he could see a hint of the wispy little panties she wore underneath.

Gods! The sight of her lush body half unclothed as well as the sweet scent she always carried with her made his cock ache. She moved around his small room, often brushing against him since the space was so close, doing something with a basin of steaming water.

“What are you doing?” His voice had finally come most of the way back though it was more of a hoarse growl than its normal timbre.

“Getting ready to give you a bath.” Trin turned to face him, a friendly smile on her face. “I have to go away tomorrow and Sidna, our medic, is going to be looking after you. I want you to feel as comfortable and clean and happy as you can—under the circumstances.”

“Someone else is going to be touching me? Handling me?” Thrace didn’t like the surge of panic the news caused in his chest. He’d gotten used to Trin hooking him to the medi-bot—her hands on him no longer caused the flood of unclean memories that had threatened to drown him at first. But he didn’t want someone new—someone besides Trin—touching him while he was chained helplessly to the cot. Just the thought made his jaw clench and his entire body feel tight.

“I’m afraid it can’t be helped but it won’t be for long.” Trin stroked his arm soothingly, as though he was an animal that needed reassurance. “I just have to complete these negotiations for our new shipment and then I’ll be back. Now, let’s get you bathed.”

“You’ve had me chained down for the Gods know how long,” he growled, deciding to revisit the issue later. “I suppose I’m starting to stink.”

“Not really.” Trin frowned as she drew the steaming basin of water closer and dipped in a soft cloth. “Although you do have a very distinctive scent—warm and spicy and…I don’t even know how to describe it. A little bit like the leather saddle I use on my stallion, Swift.”

“You treat your pet horse like you treat me?” Thrace asked as she bent over him, unconsciously showing those full, creamy breasts again. Gods, he could see right down her top to her nipples! “Wash him…” He cleared his throat. “Wash him when he gets dirty?”

“Of course,” she said without a trace of irony as she wiped his chest and shoulders with the warm, damp cloth. “And I rub him down when he’s sore after a long ride. I take care of him because he’s my responsibility.”

“The way you take care of me,” Thrace muttered. Her soft hand on his skin was doing things to him and the sight of her full breasts so close he could almost touch them was maddening. Gods, she was lovely! He shouldn’t want her—shouldn’t want the female who was his captor, his mistress, who had bought him body and soul and had him chained to a bed. But damned if he could help himself when he smelled her sweet scent and felt her touch on his flesh.

“Yes, the way I take care of you.” Trin nodded. “You’re my responsibility, the same way—oh!” she gasped as she unfastened his trousers and his hard shaft sprang free.

Thrace had been able to keep himself from getting completely hard when she handled him before—mostly it was the memories of his past that stopped his desire for her from coming to fruition. But it had been days since he’d had any sexual relief and seeing her dressed as she was and smelling her sweet scent was too much for him. He was hard as a rock and unable to help it.

“I’m your responsibility the same way your other pets are. Is that right?” he growled, finishing her sentence for her. “Only I bet none of your other pets ever had this problem.”

“Is it a problem? What’s wrong?” She looked at him uncertainly with those large, dark eyes.

Thrace groaned. “Damnit, Trin—”

“Captain Trin or Mistress,” she reminded him severely.

“I’m not calling you Mistress because I’m not a fucking slave,” Thrace growled. “And the problem is you’re wearing that little nothing of a nightdress that shows all your sweet flesh and touching me all over. How the hell am I supposed to keep from getting hard?”

“Is it painful?” She looked with concern at his throbbing shaft. “And are you actually saying I caused it? How?”

“Because you’re fucking gorgeous,” Thrace exploded. “And you’re touching me with those soft little hands. I know your people don’t have many dealings with males but that much ought to be obvious.”

“So…you find me attractive?” She looked disturbed. “I thought the Havoc didn’t care for females.”

“We don’t bond with them—doesn’t mean we don’t bed them.” Thrace narrowed his eyes at her. “I haven’t been with a female in months and I can’t even get a hand free to relieve myself. Then you come in here dressed like some kind of a sex goddess and expect me not to react? It’s fucking torture.”

“I…didn’t realize.” Trin put the damp cloth back in the bowl of water and stared at his shaft with concern. “I’m sorry, Thrace—I had no idea you felt this way. Why didn’t you tell me before?”

“Would it have done any good?” he demanded.

“I…don’t know.” She sounded uncertain. “I’m not sure what…but you’re saying that looking at me is what made you, uh, hard?”

“Painfully fucking hard,” Thrace assured her. “You probably don’t know this but males are very visual. Seeing your sweet creamy flesh exposed like this is more than I can stand. I can’t stop thinking about it—about you—even when you’re out of the room.”

“Thinking about me?” She sounded both disturbed and maybe just a touch intrigued. “Thinking of doing what to me?”

“What do you think?” Thrace was beyond exasperated. Could even a female who had never dealt with males before be this oblivious? “I fantasize. Fantasize about caressing your soft skin…tasting those ripe nipples I see pressing against your nightdress…”

“You—” Trin looked down and quickly pulled her robe tighter around herself. Still Thrace couldn’t stop.

“I imagine tasting you lower too. Spreading your thighs and taking my time, lapping your pussy with my tongue until you moan and pull my hair. I want to feel your juices all over my face…want to feel you quivering against my mouth.”

“I…I don’t…I wouldn’t…” She crossed her legs involuntarily.

“And finally,” Thrace continued recklessly. “After you’d come all over my face half a dozen times, I’d take you.”

“Take me?” She frowned. “Take me where? How do you mean?”

“I mean I’d fuck you. Penetrate you.” He was hard as a rock now, nearly crazy with need as he looked at her exposed flesh and spoke aloud what he’d been dreaming of doing for so long. But his final words seemed to shut something down in Trin. Something that might possibly have been growing between them even if it was without her knowledge.

“Impossible,” she said crisply. “I have never been penetrated and I never will be. Especially not by a male.”

“I suppose being penetrated is beneath you, coming from Zetta Prime,” Thrace growled.

“Some daughters of Zetta Prime allow it—but only with each other,” Trin said primly. “But penetration is reserved for one you love so truly and deeply you wish to form a life-bond with her—and swear to never be apart again. And if I did find someone I cared for that way, I can promise you this—I would be the one doing the penetrating. Not the other way around.”

“Well, there’s a scenario I’m not likely to fantasize about,” Thrace growled. “I’m not up for being penetrated either—not even by a female as gorgeous as you.”

“It seems you’ll have to restrict yourself to tamer fantasies,” Trin remarked. “Not that you ought to be…” She cleared her throat and her cheeks flushed a bit. “Ought to be fantasizing about me in the first place.”

“Why? Because I’m your ‘slave’ or because I’m male?” Thrace demanded. “Look, I can’t help what I think—not when you run around half dressed like that. Will you at least uncuff one of my hands so I can take care of myself?”

“So you can…” A deeper blush came into her creamy cheeks. “Oh, I see.”

“Just one hand.” Thrace lowered his voice, coming dangerously close to pleading. “That’s all I need.”

“It only took you one hand to do this.” Trin put her fingertips to the fading bruises around her neck.

“Would it help if I said I was sorry for that? I never meant to hurt you. I was in the grip of a dream—a nightmare. I thought you were—” He stopped abruptly, clamping his jaw shut.

“You thought I was who?” Trin stared at him shrewdly, her lovely eyes narrowed. “Someone who hurt you? Your old Master, perhaps?”

“Never mind,” Thrace said tightly. “Doesn’t matter who I thought you were. What matters is if I knew you were a female, I never would have tried to strangle you. The Havoc don’t hurt females—we’re like the Kindred that way.”

“You’re like them in lots of ways,” she said, letting his nightmare go to Thrace’s great relief. “In fact, I don’t see any difference except the fact that you don’t bond with females. But I can understand why you don’t—the slaver said your kind live longer if you don’t bond.”

“That’s not the reason we don’t bond,” Thrace said, glad to change the subject. “The real reason has to do with our history—our heritage. We actually were Kindred at one time—the father of our race was, anyway. Until he changed his DNA.”

“He what?” Trin settled on the side of his cot, her eyes wide with interest. “Why would he do that?”

“He was trying to eradicate his need to bond with a female.” Thrace was glad to tell her—glad to talk about anything but his past. “You see, his bride had left him for another and he was bitter and angry about it.”

“What? But if they were bonded—”

“She was one of the unbondable—a Y’lyn. They are females of surpassing beauty but they’re half demon and have no soul. You can’t form a soul-bond with a being who has nothing to bond with. So when she tired of him, she left. And Havoc—that was his name— Kern Havoc—swore to rid himself and all his descendants of the need to bond with a female which is the Kindred’s most singular trait.”

“And did he?” Trin was hanging on his words, plainly very interested.

“Not completely,” Thrace admitted. “He managed to wipe out our ability to dream share—that is, for our minds to align with the female who is supposedly perfect for us. The one who is chosen by the ‘Goddess.’” He sneered at the idea.

Picking up on his tone, Trin frowned.

“You talk about the Goddess as though you don’t believe in her. My people certainly do.”

“I don’t,” Thrace said grimly. “After the life I’ve led…the things that have happened…if there is an all powerful Goddess somewhere controlling things, she’s got a hell of a lot to answer for.”

“So now you and all the other descendants of Kern Havoc stay away from females unless you have the urge to mate?” She nodded at his shaft, which had gone down some as they talked of other things. “Like animals?”

Thrace gave her a fierce grin.

“Exactly like animals. Does that make you feel better about chaining me up like a naughty pet?”

Trin stiffened and sat up straighter.

“I didn’t chain you up for piddling on the carpet or tearing up the furniture. I chained you up because you proved yourself to be dangerous.”

“And you haven’t given me a chance to prove otherwise,” Thrace challenged her.

“What would you do if I let you up?” she demanded. “Run away? Or worse, try to take over my ship? Kill my crew or turn them off onto a desolate waste planet?”

“I told you—I don’t hurt females,” Thrace growled.

Trin shook her head in disbelief.

“I can’t risk it, no matter what you say. I fear no male but I’d be a fool not to have a healthy respect for anyone of your size and obvious physical strength.”

“Would it do any good to swear to you that I wouldn’t hurt you?” Thrace demanded. “I’ll take an oath on anything or anyone you want—even your precious Goddess. Then would you take the word of a slave? A male?”

“Not likely,” she shot back. “The daughters of Zetta Prime don’t trust males any more than you Havoc trust females.”

“So I’m stuck.” Thrace couldn’t keep the bitterness from his voice. “How long will you keep me chained to this damn cot? How will I ever earn your trust if you don’t let me up?”

“Easy.” Her eyes flashed. “Tell me what happened to your last master.”

So they were back to that. Back to his past. Back to the filthy memories he couldn’t quite seem to bury again.

“No,” he said flatly, glaring at her.

“Thrace…” Her voice softened. “I just want the truth. I need to know what happened. If you’d just tell me honestly—”

“If I told you honestly about my past, you’d be twice as horrified and scared of me as you are now,” he snapped.

Trin’s eyes widened but she spoke in a low, steady voice.

“I’m not scared of you.”

Thrace gave a harsh laugh. “If you weren’t, you’d let me go.”

“That’s not why you’re still in manacles and you know it,” Trin snapped. “I’m not unchaining you until I find out what you did to your last master. I want the truth, Thrace. Otherwise, I’ll never be able to trust you.”

He shifted restlessly.

“Then I guess you’ll never trust me and I’ll spend the rest of my life chained to this damn bed.”

“It doesn’t have to be like this,” Trin said softly…almost coaxingly. “Please, Thrace…” She put a hand on his bare chest but he jerked away from her—as much as he could, anyway.

“I’m done talking about this. Fuck you.” He turned his eyes to the wall, refusing to look at her. He’d be damned if he unearthed the pain and shame of the past just to satisfy her morbid curiosity. She might hold the key to his body but his mind was still his own and it was damn well going to stay that way.

“Fine,” Trin said crisply, withdrawing her hand. She sounded slightly hurt. He hadn’t flinched from her touch in days. In fact, he’d come to look forward to it. But Thrace felt he couldn’t stand it now—couldn’t stand to be held down one more second. And yet here he was, still chained to this fucking cot. It was more than he could bear.

“If that’s the way you want to be, you can forgo the bath until I get back,” Trin said when he didn’t speak.

“Don’t do me any favors,” Thrace snarled, glaring up at her. “I’m only a pet anyway. Just leave me here in my fucking kennel and go.”

Trin’s lush lips narrowed to a thin line but she didn’t reply to his remark. Instead, with quick, economical movements, she tucked his shaft away and fastened his trousers. Then she picked up the basin of now cold water, turned and left him to brood silently in the tiny room which was his prison.

* * * * *

Trin didn’t know why she was so upset. Why should she let anything the big Havoc said get to her? He was rude and crude and clearly uncivilized. And the things he’d said he fantasized about doing to her…

Just thinking of them made Trin blush. She considered herself a fairly worldly person but she’d never heard sexual desire stated so bluntly. If another female had spoken so to her…but no, a female wouldn’t have. Not one from Zetta Prime, anyway.

Sex on her home planet was highly ritualized with social protocols which had to be followed for even the most minute relationship advancements. A pair of females beginning a courtship might take five months before they felt ready to hold hands and another five before the first kiss could be ceremoniously given and accepted. Years might pass before a declaration of love and fidelity was made and even more years before any kind of penetration.

That made her think again of the long, hard shaft between Thrace’s muscular legs. She’d never seen it grow so big before—it almost reminded her of her stallion, Swift when he was eager to mount Silk.

For a moment she had nearly offered to help him…although in what way she could help she didn’t really care to speculate. She certainly wasn’t going to climb aboard him and allow him to penetrate her as Swift penetrated Silk—a phenomenon she’d observed once or twice in the course of her time as their owner.

Oh yes, she’d seen penetration before—she’d simply never equated the idea with herself. Not as the one being penetrated, anyway. When two females on Zetta Prime made a life-pact with each other and agreed to penetration, they generally used slim, silver wands which were made for that exclusive purpose. One of the females was the penetrator and one the penetratee. Trin had sometimes wondered what the silver wand might feel like—even though she knew in her heart she could never allow herself to be penetrated.

But a silver wand no bigger than two of her fingers was one thing. She couldn’t even imagine trying to fit something the size of Thrace’s shaft inside herself. Just the thought made her feel hot and cold and wrong all over. The daughters of Zetta Prime did not do such things—not with males. It was forbidden…disgusting. Wasn’t it?

Of course it is, she told herself firmly. That fact had certainly been drummed into her head often enough, during the sexual instruction classes she had been given at the temple of the Goddess of Judgment. Even now Trin could hear the voice of the greater priestess who taught the class…

Disgusting…evil…allowing a male to penetrate you would damn you forever. As a Defiled One, your shame would never end. You must never, never let a male come near you in that way. Never!

But despite the voices from her past, Trin couldn’t seem to get the memory of his large, hard shaft out of her mind. She supposed she might have taken him in hand and helped him in the way he’d wanted to help himself. Only Trin got the idea that the big Havoc didn’t want to be touched sexually—not while he was tied down. No matter what he might say to her, she somehow knew he wouldn’t welcome such contact while he was helpless.

And yet…the thick ridge of flesh had been almost throbbing with need—a painful need if what Thrace said was true.

Why should I believe anything he says is true? she asked herself. Everything out of his mouth is probably just a lie.

If that’s so, why didn’t he just lie about his old master? whispered a little voice in her brain. Why not just say he died of old age, or that he sold Thrace away for fighting with the other slaves? Why not just make up any plausible sounding lie he thought might appease you?

He could have done that, Trin admitted to herself reluctantly. He could have but he didn’t. Instead, he refused to answer. He left me to draw my own conclusions, even though he knew they were bound to be bad. Even though it meant he had to remain chained to the cot. Why?

She had no answers. The big Havoc was an enigma—as well as a constant source of concern and contention among the crew. They didn’t like having a male aboard—much less a huge, dangerous one. Only that morning, Sidna had approached her about the idea of simply letting him go…

“I know the Havoc was a major investment for you and the idea was to be able to deal with the high society on Yonnie Six with him at your back but it’s simply not working out,” she’d said earnestly. “I hear the two of you talking sometimes and he’s not getting any more tractable.”

“At least he’s speaking,” Trin said defensively. “I’ll bring him around eventually, Sidna. He may be male but he’s intelligent—not stupid or primitive like we were raised to believe.”

Sidna shook her head. “He’s dangerous,” she said flatly. “And if he’s as intelligent as you say, that makes him even more dangerous. We need to let him go before he figures out a way to get loose and kills us all in our sleep. Not that anyone aboard can sleep knowing there’s a huge, psychotic male strapped down to a cot just around the corner from them.”

“He’s not psychotic—he’s perfectly lucid and sane,” Trin defended.

“I’m just telling you how the crew feels,” Sidna said. “And seeing those bruises on your neck isn’t reassuring anyone either.”

“That was an accident,” Trin said.

“No, that was a warning.” Sidna’s voice dropped into a pleading tone. “Look, Lonarra,” she said, using Trin’s first name as she almost never did. “I’m begging you—for your own safety and the safety of the whole crew, let’s just let him go. Just stop at some busy spaceport or inhabited planet and drop him off. Then he’s off our hands and out of our lives forever.”

“I…” For a moment Trin had almost considered the idea. After all, despite the many conversations she’d had with Thrace, the big Havoc refused to call her mistress or swear any kind of loyalty. At this rate, she’d never be able to unchain him—let alone walk into a Yonnie Six gathering with him at her back.

He also refused to tell her what had happened to his last master—a matter which troubled her greatly. But the idea of letting him go and never seeing him again bothered her for some reason. The universe was vast—if she set him down in a busy spaceport or a hospitable planet as Sidna suggested, the odds were a trillion to one on her ever seeing him again.

“Well?” Sidna had asked, a touch of exasperation in her voice.

“I’ll think about it,” Trin had said at last. “I promise I’ll give your idea careful consideration.”

“Thank you,” Sidna said. “But don’t think too long, Trin—the crew is growing restless.”

Trin thought about it now—thought long and hard. Maybe she should just let him go. He was angry and dangerous and huge and muscular and male. He didn’t belong aboard The Alacrity. It was like trying to keep an exotic pet in an environment that wasn’t good for it.

No, I should stop thinking of him as a pet. That’s one reason he got so mad in the first place. She sighed. Maybe it would be best to just let him go. There were four life pods attached to the ship and they only really needed three of them to evacuate everyone. She could simply give him one and let him go where he wanted.

The life pods had been designed to survive long stretches of time in deep space and they all had stocks of dehydrated food spheres—provided he had a rudimentary knowledge of flying and knew how to navigate wormholes, he could go pretty much anywhere he wanted.

That’s what I ought to do, she thought. Just let him go his own way. He’s never going to play the roll I need him to—Sidna is right, he’s a dangerous liability. All right…when I get back from the Devil’s Eye, I’ll do it.

Her heart was heavy as she made the decision and not because losing the Havoc meant she’d basically flushed fifty thousand credits down the drain. Somehow, the idea of loosing Thrace was like a weight on her heart. It didn’t make any sense but somehow she’d allowed herself to grow fond of the big Havoc. So fond that the idea of never seeing him again made her eyes sting and her throat grow tight.

Don’t be an idiot, she lectured herself, swiping angrily at her damp eyes. He’s just a failed experiment. An idea that didn’t pan out. Next time maybe you’ll think harder before you sink credits into a scheme.

She straightened up and took a deep breath. It was time to stop dwelling on the problems with her troublesome Havoc and start concentrating on her strategy for getting in and out of the Demon’s Eye in one piece tomorrow. And after she got in and out with the Jaxite, how she was going to sell it without a male body-slave to help her. Well, maybe she could try to hire one for a few days from somewhere although she was afraid the Yonnite mistresses would spot a fake…

I’ll figure it out, Trin told herself. I have to. For now, one step at the time. First I have to get the Jaxite to sell.

The Alacrity was in the Delta-Xion quadrant now—a couple million light years from home, thanks to her navigator’s extensive knowledge of stable wormholes. A few more hours travel would take them to the Demon’s Doorstep—the planet the notorious space station orbited. Trin needed to be ready when they got there. Her ship, her livelihood—even her very life depended on it.

Still, even as she tried to turn her mind to the Eye and what she would say to B’Rugh, its owner, the big Havoc kept crowding into her mind, demanding her attention…

Chapter Six

Thrace tossed restlessly on the cot. He had slept poorly and had wakened to the quiet sounds of Trin getting ready to depart. He’d almost called out to her—wanting to say a word before she left. But what was he going to say—I’m sorry? Thrace snorted. Not fucking likely. Why would he apologize to his captor? The female who had bought him and chained him down. The one who refused to let him up from this fucking cot? Stubbornly, he had turned his face to the wall again and drifted back off to sleep.

He woke again with his head pounding and a blaster shoved in his face.

“Wha—?” He stared groggily at the blunt silver-blue muzzle hovering just above his nose. Gods, his head was killing him.

“Get up.” The steely voice belonged to a female named Sidna, who he was pretty sure was the ship’s medic. It was her voice he most often heard arguing with Trin about what was to be done with him.

“Can’t get up,” he said, glaring at her. “I’m chained to the fucking—”

“I’ve unchained you. Stunned you first in your sleep to be certain you didn’t wake up in the middle. I’m taking no chances with you, Havoc.” She waved the blaster at him again. “Now get up—slowly. This is set to kill so don’t get any ideas.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Thrace said dryly. “What are you going to do with me?”

“I’m getting rid of you while Trin is gone. She’ll probably be upset with me when she comes back—if she comes back. But that’s just too damn bad.”

“What do you mean if she comes back?” Thrace sat on the side of his much-hated cot, trying to regain all the feeling in his extremities and relishing the feeling of freedom for the first time in days. But the diminutive medic’s words troubled him. “Why wouldn’t she come back?” he asked, looking at her.

“Because she’s gone into the Demon’s Eye by herself with no backup,” Sidna snapped.

“She what?” Thrace exploded, standing up so suddenly Sidna jumped and shoved the blaster right in his sternum.

“I said slowly,” she snarled. “Any more sudden moves like that and I’ll blow your head off—I swear by the Goddess of Judgment, I will.”

“Sorry,” growled Thrace. “But the Demon’s Eye—that place is a fucking viper pit! Every murderer, skinner, psycho-slicer, and mind-raper in the known universe is welcome there. Any one of them will kill you just for looking at them the wrong way. And with that type it doesn’t matter how you look at them—it’s always the wrong way.”

“You’re not telling me anything I don’t already know. Anything I haven’t already said to Trin,” Sidna said tightly. “But she thinks she’ll be safe because she knows the male who runs the place.”

“She knows B’Rugh?” Thrace could scarcely believe his ears. Trin certainly didn’t seem like the kind of person who was on speaking terms with the most notorious crime-lord in this or any other galaxy.

“She beat him in a card game once,” Sidna said. “He’s been after her to come and ‘visit’ him on his home base ever since. But up until now she’s never been stupid enough—or desperate enough—to go.”

“Why in the Seven Hells would she go now?” Thrace demanded. “Especially without anyone to watch her back?”

“Why do you think? Because of you.” Sidna waved the blaster at him accusingly.

“Because of me? What are you talking about?”

“You mean she didn’t tell you?” Sidna raised an eyebrow at him disbelievingly. “Buying you nearly bankrupted her. I finally got the whole story out of her the other night—she spent fifty thousand credits on you to get you free of that slaver at the Flesh Bazaar.”

“Fifty thousand credits?” Thrace could scarcely believe it. The sum was ten times what even the most accomplished and highly trained slave was worth. He’d been bought at a high price the first time he was a slave but his old Master could afford it—Trin couldn’t. “Why the fuck would she spend so much on me?” he demanded.

“I have no idea.” Sidna gave him a withering look. “Especially since all she really wanted was a male to stand at her back and look pretty at the Yonnie Six state functions. And you plainly can’t even be trusted to do that.” You worthless piece of scum, her tone implied.

“She told me she didn’t buy me for sexual reasons, like the Yonnite mistresses buy body-slaves,” Thrace said. “But I never knew she just wanted me for backup.” Backup he hadn’t provided—and wasn’t providing now. Trin was alone in a den of thieves, rapists, murders and every other kind of criminal. And he wasn’t there to help. I could’ve been, he thought. If she’d trusted me enough to let me up, enough to take me with her. If I’d given her any reason to trust me.

“She bought you to save your worthless life, Havoc,” Sidna snapped. “She told me the slaver who sold you was trying to kill you with the pain collar he’d put on you. In my opinion, it’s a pity he didn’t succeed.” She shook her head. “Trin always was too soft hearted—although I never knew her to let her feelings get in the way of good judgment before.”

“I can’t fucking believe it…fifty thousand credits.” Thrace shook his head.

Sidna sneered at him. “You would’ve been overpriced at fifty credits-let alone fifty thousand.”

“Look, I can tell you don’t like me but I didn’t ask to be captured and sold as a slave,” Thrace growled. “Any more than I asked to be bought and chained to a cot for days on end.”

“Well you’re out of your chains now—much good may it do you. Come on.” Sidna was poking him with the blaster again. “Get going. The sooner you’re off this ship the better.”

“What the fuck do you plan to do with me?” Thrace growled. “Blow me out the airlock into deep space?”

“Don’t tempt me.” The medic’s voice was grim. “But no—Trin would never forgive me if I did that. For some reason she’s grown fond of you—even though you tried to strangle her and you can’t keep a civil tongue in your head. Goddess alone knows why but she actually likes you. So I can’t kill you.”

“Then where am I going?” Thrace demanded.

“Into one of the life pods. They’re fully stocked and they have enough fuel to navigate deep space for a good long time. Providing you can push the autopilot button, you’ll be able to make your way someplace safe. And anyplace away from The Alacrity is good enough for me,” Sidna said tightly. “Now come on, let’s go.”

She herded him at blaster-point down the narrow curving corridor to one of the far ends of the ship. Then she pointed to a small metal escape hatch.

“There. You can take that one. Just get in, press the big green button, and never come back. That’s all I ask.”

“Fine.” Thrace opened the door and ducked his head to get inside.

Without another word, Sidna sealed him in, cutting him off from the rest of the ship with a final sounding chink of metal against metal.

Thrace looked around, assessing his surroundings. The pod was cramped for someone his size but it clearly had enough food and stores for several people so he should be fine. The controls were simple too. He’d been piloting ships for almost as long as he’d been alive. One look at the miniature but fully functional navicon showed a stable wormhole just a few parsecs away. He could take it back to the galaxy he’d started from, get The Empress out of dry dock and go look for his best friend and first mate, Solar who had also been sold at the Flesh Bazaar.

But that would mean leaving Trin to the mercy of B’Rugh and the Demon’s Eye.

Looking out of the viewscreen at the front of the little pod, he saw the huge silver space station gleaming ominously in the light of the red dwarf star at the center of the system. Trin was in there somewhere…alone…unprotected. Oh, he knew she was probably armed—she was a savvy female and wouldn’t go into a place like that without a blaster or two strapped to her belt. But what good was a blaster against such a hoard of dangerous, lecherous criminals? Against B’Rugh? Thrace’d had some dealings with the crime lord in the past himself—none of them pleasant.

She bought you and chained you up! snarled a little voice in his brain. Chained you to a cot for days!

Because she didn’t trust me. Because I gave her no reason to trust me, Thrace answered it. And she’s only there because of me. She bought me to save my stupid, fucking life. That damn slaver would have killed me if she hadn’t stopped him.

He remembered now…Sidna’s scathing words had brought the recollections of what had happened in the Flesh Bazaar back like a fever dream. The slaver demanding that he get off the platform so Trin could examine him…his own silent refusal…then the horrible pain like a stinging electrical current running through his entire body. He even remembered seeing her punch the scaly bastard in the jaw when he wouldn’t turn off the pain collar. Trin really had saved his life—he owed her for that, no matter what the last few days had been like.

Turning to the navicon, he set a course for the Demon’s Eye.

He just prayed he wasn’t too late.

Chapter Seven

Trin walked carefully but confidently through the long metal halls of the space station. She kept her chin high and her hand near her blaster, which was strapped comfortingly to her hip. It didn’t do to show fear in a place like this but she wasn’t above letting people know she was armed. That was just common sense.

She’d taken her time circling the massive structure and picking the right place to dock. Using one of the smaller, more distant docking zones would have been more discrete and drawn less attention. However, it also would have meant traversing long stretches of poorly lit corridors alone until she got to a main branch.

On the other hand, docking in a central zone, close to the heart of the station, meant attracting immediate attention from the inhabitants. It also, however, guaranteed a swift getaway if the deal went south.

After almost an hour’s deliberation, Trin chose the central zone. She was one woman alone and she didn’t like to take her chances in the small, twisty corridors that ran through the peripheral branches of the station. Plus, she was hoping that B’Rugh would be willing to do a quick, straightforward deal which would allow her to go straight back to her ship with no problems.

Please Goddessof Judgment, she prayed as she walked, trying not to see the eyes gleaming in the dark offshoots on either side of the main corridor. Please—I’ve always followed all your precepts and held your laws sacred and holy. Let everything go easily and well!

She carried her credit in gold chip-coins hidden in the money belt strapped to the small of her back. Other establishments might be linked to various financial institutions and accept a thumbprint scan for a transfer but not here. The Demon’s Eye was a strictly cash-only kind of place. Not too surprising considering who ran it. B’Rugh wasn’t known for his tolerance or leniency—he was more famous for business acumen and cruelty, though he had always been civil to her.

Trin had met him when she sat in on a card game of three handed thrash in a trashy little dive in the Leffaba System. It was a complicated game which involved periodically trading hands with the player sitting three seats from you as well as managing three groups of cards at once.

Despite the fact that two of the players had been Leffbas—the species that had originally invented the game and who each had three arms and six hands, Trin had still managed to win. B’Rugh, who had lost badly, was much impressed with her skill and had been inviting her to come visit him at the Demon’s Eye ever since.

This was the first time Trin had taken him up on his invitation. She just hoped it wasn’t the last thing she ever did.

She scanned the long, dirty metal walkway as she went, her low heeled boots ringing against the floor. So far, so good. Though she could see the huge, lumpish shapes and gleaming eyes of males in the side corridors, no one had accosted or attempted to approach her yet. There were some leering expressions of lust and a few catcalls from time to time but that was all…for now. Had B’Rugh put out the word that she wasn’t to be bothered? Or were the thugs simply so surprised at seeing a lone female in their midst they didn’t know what to do?

Whatever the case, Trin hoped that their apparent policy of non-contact continued. Although at some point she was going to have to ask someone to point the way to B’Rugh…

“Greetings, my lady,” a high, grating voice announced.

It was so close to her and so unexpected that Trin nearly jumped out of her skin.

“I…what?” She looked around wildly, only to see the speaker appear suddenly right in front of her. He didn’t walk forward, he simply showed up as though he’d materialized out of nothing.

She took a look at him…and had to fight to keep from stepping back. He was a tall, skeletal male with a skull-like face and boney, prominent eye sockets around his deep-set eyes. Or eye, anyway. The entire right side of his face was covered with some kind of rigid metal mask with an unblinking purple light glaring from where the right eye should be. He had a knife blade of a nose and thin, almost non-existent lips that were the color of raw meat.

The worst part in Trin’s opinion, was that a piece of his skull had been removed and replaced with a clear, plasti-glass dome. Through it, she could see his pulsing gray brain implanted with a few weakly flickering lights. The brain matter around these implants was darker that the other tissue and looked almost…rotten. But that wasn’t possible, was it? How could anyone live and function with a rotting brain?

“I see you’re admiring my communications array,” the male said, tapping the plasti-glass shield with one skeletal finger.

“Oh, uh…” Trin wasn’t sure what to say. “It’s…like nothing I’ve ever seen before,” she said at last. Which was certainly true.

“It used to be my link to the beings I served—they are, alas, no more.”

“That’s too bad,” Trin remarked, keeping her hand near her blaster.

“I had another connection too—one to a dear friend—closer than a brother. But he died as well.” He sighed mournfully in a way that almost made Trin sorry for him. Almost.

“I’m very sorry to hear it.”

“Well, it cannot be helped. People do come and go in our lives sometimes, don’t you agree?”

Trin thought of the big Havoc chained to his cot back on The Alacrity—thought of her decision to let him go when she got back from doing the deal aboard the Demon’s Eye.

“True,” she admitted, her heart feeling heavy for no reason she could really name.

“But then…one moves on,” the strange male continued. “One finds new places to inhabit, one makes new friends. The universe becomes a brighter place—yes?”

He smiled and Trin had to keep herself from flinching away from him a second time. Pealing back those liver-colored lips revealed spit-shiny stainless steel teeth that were somehow even more grotesque than the exposed brain.

“Right,” she muttered, gripping her blaster.

“Oh, you won’t need that.” The male grinned even wider and nodded at the blaster. “It’s quite unnecessary. I’m not here to accost you—I’m here to lead you to our most estimable leader, Alile vuh B’Rugh.”

“I see.” Trin relaxed a little though she kept her hand hovering over her blaster. “You weren’t with him when I first met him, I don’t think,” she remarked. “I’m certain I would have remembered you.”

“As I would have remembered you, dear lady.” He bowed again and came up grinning. “As a matter of fact, I am relatively new here but I have quickly gained the confidence of our fine leader. You might even say I am his number Two male.” He laughed, as though he’d made a joke. Trin didn’t join in.

“So where is B’Rugh?” she asked tightly. More and more she felt she didn’t like this tall thin male with his exposed brain and steel teeth. As a captain she had learned to trust her instincts and he gave off a bad vibe. A bad, crazy vibe. Every nerve in her body shouted, run! But she couldn’t—she had a deal to make.

“B’Rugh is this way—waiting for you in his main receiving parlor. Or as the other denizens of this fine establishment call it—the Grog Hall.” He swept out one boney hand in an elaborately graceful gesture. “Ladies first?”

“I’ll follow you,” Trin said tightly.

“But I do not wish to be rude.” He opened his eyes wide—the left eye anyway—as though indicating his horror of the idea.

“Females don’t expect special treatment where I’m from. We are more than equal to males so nobody needs to go first,” Trin said brusquely. “You know the way so you lead.”

“Very well.” He nodded amiably enough and turned to sweep down the wide metal corridor ahead of her. Trin breathed a sigh of relief, glad to have that strange, crazy gaze off her face at least for a minute. She noticed that her host—B’Rugh’s number two male as he called himself—was wearing a strange garment. It was a long, black leather coat which fell from his boney neck to his black boots which made dull, clanking echoes on the metal floor. The coat fluttered against his ankles as he walked, almost as though it was alive.

Weird. Very weird. She wondered if he was really who he said he was and if he was taking her to B’Rugh at all? If he’d tried to lead her off into one of the narrow, dark, side corridors she would have balked. But so far they were simply making their way down the wide main walkway.

She did notice, however, that most of the watching males had somehow disappeared. And the one or two that remained had looks of fear rather than lust on their faces as they watched her walk past. Somehow Trin doubted the fear was for her. For some reason, even the largest thugs they passed were afraid of the tall, thin male who was leading her down the corridor. That made her even more wary of her companion but what could she do but keep following him?

Just as she was about to get really nervous, they came to a place where the main corridor branched off into two smaller ones. In the exact center of the juncture was a strange, triangular door wedged into the crease between the corridors.

“In here,” her companion said, turning briefly to smile at her. “I hope you’re thirsty—it’s considered very rude to refuse a drink offered by your host here.”

“Is that right?” Trin said neutrally.

“Oh yes—which is why I mention it. I know you don’t wish to upset or offend the estimable B’Rugh.” He flashed that grotesque, steel grin again and swung open the triangular door, ducking a little to go in as the narrow point of the triangle was at the top.

Trin followed him carefully, keeping her eyes open and her hand on her blaster as she stepped through the door into the dim room. She didn’t want to get cut off from her exit so she halted just a step inside the threshold and let her eyes get used to the low lighting.

Sure enough, sitting at the end of a black-grass table on the far side of the room was B’Rugh. The black-grass—which was a kind of soft fungus especially prized for its ability to keep gems and precious metals polished and bright simply through contact—was cut short. On it a gleaming pile of Jaxite crystals was heaped in a shiny, untidy pyramid.

Trin’s eyes widened as she looked at the crystals. Even from across the room she could tell they were perfect—already cut to the right size and shape for the dream-gas refineries of Yonnie Six. The perfect acquisition—these crystals would more than make up her debt if she could sell them to some wealthy mistress. Of course, how she would get anyone to deal with her since she was going to turn Thrace loose and had no one else to act as her body-slave, Trin had no idea. But that was a problem for another day. Right now she simply had to make the deal and get her hands on those crystals.

“They are beautiful, no?” The thick, burbling voice sounded to Trin, as always, like someone talking underwater with a mouthful of mud. She raised her gaze reluctantly from the small but valuable pile of Jaxite to their owner.

B’Rugh was a Lud’om—a race that had evolved on the mud flats of Lud, a planet which had a very wet environment. In fact, he himself looked like he might be made of mud. His mottled brownish-green skin was covered in hand-sized patches of slime and seemed to flow over his body in a way that was both disturbing and mesmerizing—a constantly shifting mass even though he himself was sitting quite still in his chair. His facial features were like drooping dough and Trin had the idea that if she reached out to touch his cheek—or indeed, any part of him—her fingers might sink in. Only his eyes—steady, yellow and calculating—didn’t change.

“Greetings. B’Rugh,” she said, stepping forward. “It’s good to see you again—I was glad to get your message about the Jaxite.” She nodded at the pile of crystals on the soft black mat of fungus in front of him. “I have our agreed upon price and I’m ready to deal.”

“A drink first, I think,” B’Rugh burbled thickly. “One cannot deal with a dry throat.” As if anything about him was dry.

Trin shifted uneasily. She didn’t like the idea of letting anything but air pass her lips in this hostile environment. Still, she remembered the warning B’Rugh’s second in command had given her. She didn’t wish to offend and she did have a ring with a toxin sensor on her right hand. It ought to pick up any poisons or toxins that someone might have tried to slip into her cup.

“Of course,” she said, nodding. “A drink to seal the deal.”

“Good.” B’Rugh nodded to his number two male. “Drinks.”

The male with the steel teeth bowed obsequiously.

“At once, my liege.”

He went to a bar behind the table and busied himself with a number of glass and metal bottles.

“Very well.” B’Rugh looked at her. “Sit, please. As we are waiting, perhaps you would care to inspect one of the crystals?”

“Of course.” Trin took a seat opposite him and steeled herself not to flinch as he picked up one of the Jaxite crystals with oozing fingers and placed it in her palm. The Lud’om’s touch was cold and slimy and a bit of his brownish goo was stuck to the crystal. Trin flicked it away as unobtrusively as she could and examined the silver-blue depths of the Jaxite.

It was perfect—brilliant and clear and multifaceted. The color reminded her of something—Thrace’s eyes, that was it. The pale, sparkling color was exactly the same. But it was the ring of black around his iris that made his gaze so piercing…so penetrating.

“…to you,” B’Rugh said and she realized she’d missed the first part of his sentence.

“I’m sorry, what?” she asked while inwardly scolding herself. She was in a serious negotiation—now was not the time to be thinking of the big Havoc.

“I said, you may consider that particular crystal as my gift to you,” B’Rugh repeated.

“Oh…well, thank you.” Trin gave him a grateful nod of her head. “That’s most generous. But please allow me to pay you the price we agreed upon for the others.”

“Of course. Let me see the color of your coin.” B’Rugh made a motion with one hand, indicating she should produce her credit.

This was the tricky part. Keeping one hand on her blaster, Trin reached under the back of her plain black shirt with the other and unhooked the money belt. She placed it on the table and opened it, giving B’Rugh a discreet glance inside so that he could tell she had the correct number of golden credit chip-coins. Then she took one out and handed it to him, as he had handed her the crystal.

“Perfect.” B’Rugh nodded and gave the coin back. Then he took out a small black bag, which was lined in the same black-grass fungus that covered the table, and swept the shining pile of Jaxite crystals into it.

Is it really going to be this easy? Trin felt a cautious surge of optimism as she began counting out her pile of coins. It seemed the Lu’dom was actually going to do a straightforward deal. But she would wait to celebrate until she had the crystals in hand and was back aboard The Alacrity.

At that moment, the male with the steel teeth came over and set two identical metal goblets in front of her and B’Rugh.

“Semlina wine—the first pressing—infused with essence of fireflower and enhanced with a secret ingredient of my own,” he announced, grinning broadly to show those awful teeth. “Enjoy.”

“A secret ingredient?” Trin looked doubtfully at the blood-red liquid.

“Nothing harmful, I assure you. It should greatly enhance your experience.”

“I see.” Trin nodded and waved her right hand unobtrusively over the top of the wine. The tiny toxin sensor’s light remained a reassuringly steady green without even a flicker of red. Well, so at least the “secret ingredient” wasn’t poison.

“To a deal well done,” B’Rugh burbled and raised his goblet, his fingers oozing over its metal stem.

“A deal well done,” Trin echoed and took a sip. The liquid made her lips and tongue tingle in a strange way but other than that she felt no ill effects.

“Excellent,” B’Rugh said, holding out the sack to her.

Trin reached for it, while holding out the correct number of chip-coins in her other hand towards him. In another moment the deal would be done…

But B’Rugh held back, not quite taking her money or giving her the sack of crystals.

“As you have the correct currency, and I have the crystals, all we need is for your mate to effect the exchange,” he said.

“My mate?” Trin said blankly. “What do you mean?”

“Your mate—the male you are mated to.” B’Rugh raised one oozing eyebrow at her. “Do you say to me that you have no male to help effect the exchange?”

“Why would I need one?” Trin asked, honestly mystified.

B’Rugh frowned, an expression that made it look as if his entire face was melting.

“My culture does not allow me to have hand-to-hand dealings directly with a female.”

“What do you mean? You just handed me a crystal,” Trin pointed out.

“Ahh, but that was a gift, my dear. I am talking about business transactions. There must be a male here to effect the exchange. To take the crystals from my hand and place them in yours and to take the coins from your hand and place them in mine.”

“How about if we just leave both on the table and switch seats?” Trin suggested. “Then I can pick up the crystals and you can pick up the coins without any contact involved at all?” That would suit her just fine. She didn’t particularly want to handle anything else that had B’Rugh’s slime on it. But the Lud’om was shaking his head ponderously.

“Impossible,” he burbled, looking positively offended. “I cannot even think of such a thing.”

“Well, what are we supposed to do, then?” Trin demanded. Her lips and tongue were still tingling and now the tingle was spreading to the rest of her mouth. She wished it would stop—the sensation was very distracting.

“Seeing that you have no mate with you to effect the transaction, I might be willing to provide one,” B’Rugh suggested.

“Provide me a mate? As in, marry me off to someone?” Trin frowned. “I don’t think so.”

“It would only be a temporary arrangement, of course. Just to get the transaction done.” He smiled which made his face look like it was melting upwards.

“A temporary mate,” Trin mused. “And who exactly were you thinking of for this venture?”

“Why, myself of course.” B’Rugh widened his small, yellow eyes. “Whom else?”

Trin sighed. “Look, B’Rugh—if you’re trying to get more credit out of me by tacking on some kind of matchmaker’s fee, you’re out of luck. This is everything I’ve got.” She nodded at the pile of gold credit-chip coins on the soft black fungus in front of her. “You and I both know it’s a fair price and you’re not likely to find another buyer who’s willing to come all the way out here to you in person. So why don’t we just—”

“Oh—no, no my dear.” B’Rugh held up one oozing hand to stop her. “There is no need of a monetary compensation.”

“So…what? I marry you for fifteen minutes so that you can give me the crystals and I can give you the coins and then we go our separate ways?” Trin raised an eyebrow at him. All her instincts were on high alert. The Lud’om was definitely up to something.

“Well, for a bit longer than fifteen minutes,” B’Rugh said. “In point of fact, you would have to spend one night in my bed in order to make the joining legal and binding. Then, the next day, the deal could be effected and you would be able to leave.”

Trin swallowed hard, trying to keep her gorge from rising.

“A night in your bed? Are you asking me to prostitute myself to you in order to do this deal?”

“Certainly not!” B”rugh protested hastily. “My culture does not allow such things. I am speaking of a temporary joining or marriage—whatever you wish to call it. But of course, I would have certain privileges as your mate.”

Trin was beginning to feel genuinely ill—it didn’t help that the tingling in her mouth had turned to a kind of numbness.

“And what…” She could hardly make herself go on. “What kind of privileges would those be?” she finally managed to get out.

B’Rugh’s yellow eyes gleamed in his sagging, doughy face.

“Why the privilege of penetration, of course. I will hold you in my arms and envelope you with my slime.” He indicated the dripping greenish-brown ooze that covered his body. “Once you are completely enfolded, I will slide my member within you and—”

“Stop!” Trin held up a hand, unable to hear any more. “What…what would make you even think of such a thing?” she demanded, glaring at him. “You and I…we’re not even the same species. Not even close.”

“The color of your skin—that rich, creamy brown. I have never seen another female of your kind with such coloring. I find it…most erotic.” B’Rugh’s gurgling voice had gone thick with lust. “I makes me wish to fill you with my member and see if you are as soft and lush as you look.”

“I’m from Zetta Prime and we don’t…don’t do that. With any male,” Trin told him.

“Maybe you could make an exception…just for one night.” Those yellow eyes gleamed in his melting face.

His words made Trin think of the conversation about penetration she’d had with Thrace the night before. But imagining such a thing with the huge Havoc had made her feel hot and cold and strange all over. She’d had a clear feeling it was wrong—but of course, she’d always known that because of the way she’d been raised on Zetta Prime. However, the idea of letting Thrace fill her with his shaft hadn’t disgusted or repelled her. The idea had simply made her feel…strange and guilty.

The idea of letting B’Rugh fill her with his slimy cock and wrap her in his oozing arms filled her with a different feeling entirely. Nausea. Looking at the Lud’om and imagining going to bed with him made sour bile rise at the back of her throat. She wanted some water to wash the horrible taste away from her mouth but there was nothing but the strange, blood-red wine. Blindly she reached for it…

Only to have it knocked out of her hand.

“Sorry, but you can’t drink any more of that,” a familiar voice said. “That bastard with the steel teeth laced it with passion berries. Another sip and you’ll be in serious trouble.”

Trin looked up in surprise to see Thrace standing over her. The big Havoc was still wearing only the tight black leather pants and leather boots he’d had on when she bought him but now he was also carrying a blaster. She’d gotten so used to seeing him lying down, chained to the cot, she had forgotten how huge he really was. He was like a mountain of muscle towering over her and she had no idea why he was there.

Apparently B’Rugh didn’t either.

“Who are you and how dare you interrupt our negotiations?” The Lud’om sounded most displeased.

“Don’t remember me, do you?” Thrace gave him a fierce grin. “We met a few cycles back when your people tried to take over the mud flats on my home planet.”

The yellow eyes narrowed. “I do remember you, now. It was your leadership that kept us from completely conquering the Havoc home world. Thrace, isn’t it?”

Thrace nodded. “In the flesh.”

“But that still doesn’t explain what you’re doing here or how you’re involved with the lovely Trin.” B’Rugh nodded at her.

“That’s Captain Trin to you,” Thrace growled. “She’s the owner and captain of a star ship—not some cheap prosti-whore you can buy for a night of what passes for pleasure with you, B’Rugh—you fucking slimy bastard.”

B’Rugh stiffened—as much as a being that appeared to be made of oozing mud could be said to stiffen.

“I would never presume to ‘buy’ her as you put it. But she must have a mate to effect our transaction. I was actually doing her a favor, offering to act in this capacity myself so that the sale can go through.”

Thrace snorted. “Right. As if any female forced to sleep with you would consider it a favor. Fucking mud-slug.”

Privately, Trin agreed with everything the big Havoc was saying but he wasn’t being very diplomatic. There was nothing she wanted more than to stand up and punch B’Rugh in the jaw—or maybe just shoot him with her blaster. She was afraid her fist would get stuck in his face if she actually punched him. But giving in to those impulses wasn’t going to get her the Jaxite crystals.

She wanted to open her mouth and say something to salvage the situation but the tingling in her lips and tongue had become partial numbness now and speaking was difficult. Still, after swallowing a few times, she was able to interject between the angry insults Thrace and B’Rugh were trading.

“So you’re saying, B’Rugh,” she said, being careful not to slur her words. “That your only interest here is preserving the deal. That you only offer yourself as my temporary mate in order to conclude our transact…” She swallowed, her tongue feeling thick. “Transaction? Correct?”

“Of course.” B’Rugh nodded stiffly. “Though I admit to finding you most desirable, if you had come with a mate to effect the transaction, none of this would be necessary.”

“Good, then all our problems are solved.” Thrace leaned forward and glared at the Lud’om. “Because I’m her mate.”

Chapter Eight

“I’m her mate,” Thrace growled again, wanting to get the point across. “And I’m here to ‘effect the transaction’ as you keep saying.”

“What?” the Lud’om blustered, spraying bits of slime on the black grass table. “But Trin stated she had no mate!”

“She never said that. She said she didn’t have one with her. But here I am.” Thrace grinned, really enjoying the look of fury on the lumpish, oozing face of his opponent. The look on Trin’s face was equally amusing. She looked like she wanted to say something but wasn’t quite sure how to say it.

Or maybe she was just about to lose consciousness. The bastard with the steel teeth had put no less than three passion berries in her wine—enough for a person three times her size. Thrace only wished he’d been able to knock it from her hand before she took the first drink but he’d wanted to hang back in the shadows and hear what was going on. He’d told himself that he would just watch and listen—and if she wasn’t in trouble, he would simply go get The Empress out of dry dock and leave her alone forever.

So much for that plan, he thought grimly, trying to keep an eye on B’Rugh and his weird second in command at the same time. The male with the steel teeth had sidled around behind his boss and was looking at both him and Trin as if they were interesting exhibits in a zoo. There was something not right about that son of a bitch…something not quite sane, Thrace thought.

“But this is impossible,” B’Rugh blustered. “You cannot be Trin’s mate.”

“I most certainly am. Aren’t I, baby?” He looked down at her, giving her an encouraging smile. Would she play along? She’d better if she wants to get out of here in one piece with that pretty pile of crystals!

Trin was still looking up at him, probably wondering how he’d gotten loose in the first place and what he was doing here aboard the Demon’s Eye. But finally, she nodded in confirmation.

“Yes, Thrace is my…mate.”

“You told me that your people did not allow penetration by males!” B’Rugh accused her. “You sited it as your main objection to taking me as a temporary mate.”

“I highly doubt that was her main objection,” Thrace said dryly. “But just to let you know, there are a hell of a lot more things you can do with a female besides just penetrate her. If you don’t know that by now, you’ve got less going for you than I thought. Now…” Reaching around Trin, he scooped up the handful of golden cred-chip coins and held them out across the table. “How about making that deal?”

“I…I never…” B’Rugh tried to protest.

“You said you wanted to do the deal and only Trin’s lack of a mate was stopping you,” Thrace reminded him steadily. “Yet when her mate shows up, you try to go back on your word?” He shook his head. “That doesn’t look too good, B’Rugh. Especially not to the Elders of your Tribe.”

Though the Lud’om was a feared and hated criminal, Thrace knew that the crime lord would still be bound by the mores of his people. One of which dictated that a deal, once offered, must always be honored.

B’Rugh seemed to know when he was beaten.

“Very well,” he burbled brusquely. Scooping up the sack of crystals, he held them out to Thrace who took the sack and handed over the stack of coins.

“Thank you.” He checked the crystals, nodded politely, and put a hand under Trin’s slim elbow to help her up. “Come on, baby—let’s go,” he muttered.

Trin didn’t move.

At first he thought she was resisting him—then he realized she was still under the effects of the drugged wine and probably about to pass out. He lifted her by main force and helped her stand. Her eyes were partially glazed as she nodded her goodbyes to B’Rugh and his strange second in command. Then Thrace hustled her out the triangular doorway as quickly as he could.

It was time to get the hell out of here.

* * * * *

“Stay on your feet and don’t fall down,” the big Havoc muttered in her ear as he half carried, half dragged Trin down the wide metal walkway. “I can’t carry you yet—the bastards around here will see it as weakness and be on us like a pack of wild ferals.”

“I’m…trying,” Trin slurred, stumbling along beside him. The tingling and numbness in her mouth had become an odd, lightheaded feeling that made her feel extremely weird and strangely relaxed at the same time.

In danger—we just crossed the most notorious crime lord in the galaxy and we’re in terrible danger—screamed a little voice inside her head. But it seemed muffled and faint…unimportant even though Trin knew it was pretty damn serious.

She was aware that the thugs who had watched her first passage down this corridor were back. Their eyes gleamed from the shadows and a couple of them looked like they would have liked to challenge Thrace. But since the Havoc was bigger than any of them and had a naked blaster in his hand, they hung back. Still, it was probably only a matter of time until one or several of them got over their uncertainty and stepped forward. Only—

She stumbled and Thrace dragged her upright again, hooking one arm around her waist to keep her moving.

“Almost there,” he muttered. “Almost to the exit airlock. Come on, baby—you can do it.”

Trin wanted to object to the demeaning nickname but she couldn’t seem to form any words. What had Thrace said the man with the steel teeth had put into her drink? Passion berries? Trin had never heard of them but they must be incredibly strong. She’d taken the tiniest possible sip and she still felt close to passing out. Had B’Rugh’s second in command been trying to kill her? Or simply drug her so completely she couldn’t protest anything that was done to her? The thought made Trin shiver, even in her drugged haze.

Suddenly, as if her thoughts had called him, the male with the steel teeth and rotting brain popped up right in front of them. Trin blinked at him owlishly. How did he move so fast?

“What in the Seven Hells?” Apparently the male’s sudden appearance had surprised Thrace as well. He halted abruptly, keeping one arm firmly around Trin and pointed the blaster at the center of the other male’s narrow chest. “Get out of the way,” he growled.

“In a moment,” the male said pleasantly. “I just had a quick question for you before you go, my good Havoc.”

“I’m not your good anything,” Thrace snarled. “Now step out of the way or I’ll blast a hole in you big enough to walk through.”

“My, my—such a violent temper!” The male with steel teeth shook his head and made a tsking sound. “But listen—you said that B’Rugh’s people tried to take over the mud flats on your planet—is that correct?”

“They tried. Didn’t succeed,” Thrace snapped impatiently. “What of it?”

“Well, it’s just that mud flats are a very unusual geographical feature.”

“Not really.” Thrace frowned. “They’re what happen when the desert meets the sea. Most of my home planet, Xander Prime, is either huge oceans or barren deserts. Not the most hospitable place but it’s ours and we weren’t going to give it up to those Lud’om bastards.”

“I see. Of course not.” B’Rugh’s second in command nodded thoughtfully. “Well, thank you very much. That was all I wished to know.”

Thrace stared at him. “Seriously? You stopped me to ask about the mud flats of my home world?”

“That’s all. I simply have an interest in different climates and geographical features. Call it a…hobby of mine.” He grinned, exposing his horrible teeth again. “Well, I must be going and I can see you are in a hurry as well.”

“Damn right,” Thrace snapped. But before they could start moving again. the male with steel teeth leaned forward and put one cold finger under Trin’s chin.

“Goodbye for now, my dear,” he murmured, his one normal eye gleaming. “But not forever because I will see you again. I can promise you that.”

He’s crazy! Trin thought, another cold shiver going down her spine. Completely insane.

“Get your fucking hands off her.” Thrace jerked her away and shoved the muzzle of the blaster in the other male’s skinny sternum. “Touch her again and you die.”

The male with metal teeth didn’t seem in the least concerned. He simply smiled.

“So protective despite the fact that she doesn’t allow you to penetrate her. That’s interesting. Very interesting,” he murmured, finally stepping aside. “Goodbye then. For now.” Slowly, he backed away, still grinning.

At that point, Trin’s head began to spin and the world around her started to gray out. She saw the interested looks of the thugs in the hallway around them—clearly the pause for conversation with B’Rugh’s second in command had given them time to gather their courage. Trin knew she needed to stay on her feet, but she couldn’t even feel her feet anymore. She sagged in Thrace’s grip, unable to stand, let alone walk.

“Trin?” He glanced at her quickly, while keeping most of his attention on the circle of interested thugs.

“Sorry,” she whispered. “Just…can’t…”

With a low curse, he bent down and swung her into his arms as easily as if he was picking up a doll. “Hold on to me,” he muttered. “Or try, at least—we’re going to have to fight our way out.”

The last memory Trin had was of resting her head against his muscular, bare chest as a hoard of hungry eyes closed in on them.

Then…nothing.

Chapter Nine

“Stav? Stavros?” Charlie snapped her fingers in front of her lover’s face worriedly.

Stavros was sitting on the side of the bed, wearing nothing but his black satin sleep pants and a blank expression. His hands lay open on his thighs, palms up. Other than the rise and fall of his broad chest and some slight twitching of his fingertips, he was completely still.

Completely gone.

Charlie stared at him with growing concern. This wasn’t the first time he’d drifted off into a weird, blank-eyed trance—the brief fugues had been happening for weeks now, ever since they’d returned to the Mother Ship from destroying the Collective on the Dark Kindred home world. It was almost like a petite-mal seizure, the way he just blanked out suddenly and for no apparent reason but the Kindred didn’t get epilepsy.

The trances scared Charlie, mostly because Stav had been a Sin Eater most of his life—what the Blood Kindred called a Cursed One. He’d had a parasite which grew on his back and forced him to feel the physical pain of others. It took the form of intricate, curving black lines which looked like an elaborate tattoo.

Killing the Collective—the group of thinking computers that ruled the Dark Kindred world—had also killed the parasite, leaving Stav free of its influence for the first time in over twenty years. Then the Goddess had healed his heart and declared he would have a normal life span instead of the scant six months he had originally been given. It seemed they were destined to live happily ever after aboard the Mother Ship with the rest of the Kindred and their wives.

And then the trances started.

Stavros kept saying it was nothing to worry about and it really wasn’t very dramatic. He would just blank out occasionally, freezing in place wherever he was and staring into space for a few seconds. It happened infrequently—maybe once or twice a week—and never lasted very long. Still, Charlie was worried. In light of his medical history, she didn’t like anything out of the ordinary.

And this was definitely out of the ordinary.

It was also by far the longest trance or fugue or whatever you wanted to call it he’d had. She’d been calling his name and trying to bring him back for the past five minutes and Stavros hadn’t so much as blinked. It was like he had gone far away—somewhere she couldn’t reach him.

“Okay, enough is enough,” Charlie muttered to herself at last. “I’m calling Dr. Sylvan.”

Stav had talked her out of involving the Kindred doctor several times in the past but this time she was getting some answers. There was a think-me in the nightstand on her side of the bed. She would bespeak her new friend, Sophia, to ask if her husband was around, Charlie decided. Sylvan was a nice guy—he wouldn’t mind her calling late.

But just as she was rummaging in the nightstand for the thin silver wire think-me which enabled telepathic communication, Stavros blinked and took a deep breath.

“Charlotte?” He looked like a man coming out of a dream…or maybe a nightmare. His indigo eyes were dark and troubled and he ran one hand through his gorgeous mane of deep auburn hair distractedly.

“Stav, honey…” Charlie had been digging in a drawer for a think-me but she went to him at once, relieved to have him back.

“Charlotte,” he murmured again and put his arms around her. Though he was sitting and she was standing, he was tall, as all Kindred were. So when he pulled her close, his head pressed against her chest, his gorgeous hair spilling over the deep red nightgown she was wearing.

“What is it?” Charlie was bewildered and concerned at how tightly he was holding her. It was as though he was a drowning man and she was the only one who could save him. “What is it, honey?” she asked again.

Stavros turned his head and pressed his face to her breasts but not in a sexual way—it was more like he was seeking comfort. The gesture tore at Charlie’s heart because she knew he had never been able to seek comfort from anyone before. His own mother had rejected him when the Mark that proved he was a Cursed One started to grow on his back when he was only six.

“Sweetheart…” she murmured, carding her fingers through his long hair. “Stav, what is it?”

He looked up at her at last.

“I’ve seen him,” he muttered in a hoarse voice.

“Seen who?” Charlie stared at him, not understanding.

“Two.” He sighed heavily. “I’ve been catching glimpses of him with every trance—if that’s what you call it. But this was the longest one yet.”

“What?” Charlie frowned at him. “You told me you didn’t remember anything about those trances—that you just spaced out for a second or two and it was nothing.”

“I lied.” Stavros looked away. “I’m not proud of that. I just…didn’t want to worry you.”

“Like I wasn’t worried thinking you were having some kind of mental fugue states for no apparent reason?”

“There’s no apparent reason for this either,” Stav pointed out. “I just keep seeing him all the time. I don’t understand it.”

“I might,” Charlie said thoughtfully. “Remember how he—well, how Ur—reached for you and touched you while you were filled with all that emotional energy from the Heart of Love?”

“How could I forget it?” Stavros said dryly. “Ur’s evil combined with the positive energy is what caused the overload that killed the Collective.”

“But it wasn’t just Ur—he was in Two’s body when it happened,” Charlie pointed out. “What if the two of you formed some kind of…I don’t know…some kind of mental connection somehow when that happened?”

“I suppose that’s possible.” Stav sounded thoughtful. “Though it still isn’t pleasant.”

“Has he been doing awful things that you have to watch?” Charlie asked sympathetically. Two was a horrible person—if the word “person” could even be applied to him. Nothing he would do could surprise her.

“Well, up until now I’ve only been catching glimpses. But just now I watched him drug some poor female’s wine.”

“He drugged her? With what? Could you tell?”

Stavros frowned. “I think it was passion berries.”

“Passion berries? What the hell is that?” Charlie felt cold all over. As a cop down on Earth working in a college town, she’d dealt with her share of date rape cases. Though the idea of Two trying to roofie someone didn’t sit quite right with her. He struck her as being completely asexual—totally evil, of course—but sex didn’t seem to be part of his makeup at all. “Is it some kind of aphrodisiac?” she asked. “Like that bonding fruit the wives with Twin Kindred eat to uh, help ease the way?”

“Passion berries are similar to bonding fruit but much more deadly.” Stav sounded grim. “The saying goes, one sip makes you cold, the next sip makes you hot and the third sip makes you dead.”

“My God. So Two was trying to kill her?” That actually fit more with the profile she had of him in her head.

“I don’t think so. You see, the third sip isn’t always deadly—not if you have the antidote at hand.”

“And did he?” Charlie demanded. Though she had no idea who this girl was, she was feeling more and more worried about her. Of course, she would feel worried about anyone who found themselves at the mercy of Two—mainly because the sick bastard had no mercy.

“The antidote is not a compound or elixir which can be administered orally,” Stav said dryly. “The only cure for a third sip of passion berry wine is penetration and insemination.”

“What?” Charlie stared at him. “So in order to survive after drinking that third drink she has to let him…”

“Have sex with her and fill her with his seed. Yes.” Stav nodded gravely. “Otherwise she will suffer an excruciating death.”

“That’s horrible!” Charlie ran a hand through her hair distractedly. “That poor girl! So now she had to let Two…Ugh!” She shivered. “You know, I never thought he was the type to do anything like this. Anything sexual I mean. Horrible and murderous and disgusting, yes but sexual…not so much.”

“He didn’t do it for himself—he drugged her for the creature he was working for,” Stav said. “A Lud’om, I think. At least, he looked like one.”

“What’s a Lud’om? No, never mind.” Charlie raised her hand to stop him answering. “First tell me if that poor girl is all right.”

“I think she is.” Stav frowned. “Another male came in and stopped her from drinking too much of the drugged wine. She only took the first sip.”

“Thank God!” Charlie nearly sagged with relief—she really felt for this unknown girl, whoever she was. “But…what will the first sip do to her? Will it hurt her?”

“She’ll have some side effects but nothing that will kill her,” Stav assured her.

“So who saved her? Another Lud…Ludo…whatever it was?”

“No…he looked like a Kindred. But he spoke to Two of his home world on Xander Prime. So he must be Havoc.”

“Really? Havoc?” Charlie was intrigued. When she and Stav had gone undercover at the couple’s resort, J’lorgon’s Mind, he had pretended to be a Havoc because they were genetic cousins to the Kindred. As far as she knew, the two kinds of males were almost exactly alike in every way except the Havoc didn’t call brides like the Kindred or bond with them. Though of course, for the purpose of their cover, they had pretended that Stav was one of the rare few who had, in fact, found a bride. Charlie, of course, had been that bride—a deception that had become a reality once they fell in love.

“The Havoc seemed to be taking care of the girl fairly well.” Stav frowned. “But Two distracted him long enough for others to interfere. The last I saw, the two of them were surrounded.”

“Oh, no!” Charlie put a hand to her mouth. “Do you think they’ll be okay? Can we help them?”

“I don’t see how.” Stav shook his head. “Even if we could fold space to their exact spot, I have a feeling the fight is already over.” He sighed. “At least the Havoc male seemed to know what he was doing. And I could tell he would protect the female with his own life if necessary.”

“Just like a Kindred would,” Charlie murmured. Though she had once considered the alien race her enemies, Stavros had changed her mind with his love and devotion as well as his willingness to sacrifice himself for others. He was truly noble—and that wasn’t a word she could apply to hardly anyone else she knew.

“Just like a Kindred,” her lover agreed, smiling a little. “We love our females to distraction and we would die to keep them safe.”

“I know you would, sweetheart.” Charlie stroked his hair again and leaned down to give him a lingering kiss. “So…they were a couple, then?”

He frowned. “I don’t think so. Two said something else to him at the end…something about him being protective of her even though she didn’t allow him to penetrate her. Very strange.”

“Well, aren’t there some cultures that don’t allow that?” Charlie asked. Her new friend Kat and several of the other Kindred wives had told her tales of Yonnie Six, the planet where the females were superior and the males were all sex slaves.

Stav nodded. “That’s true. But until he said that, I assumed the girl was from Earth somehow. Now it’s clear she can’t be.”

“Why would you assume that?” Charlie asked.

“She has the same brown skin tones that Lauren and Becca have,” he explained. “It’s lovely but I thought it was only found on Earth.”

“Hmmm, I don’t know.” Charlie frowned. “Well, whoever she is and wherever she’s from, I hope she’s okay. Although I think it’s kind of sad that he loves her enough to risk his life for her and she won’t let him…you know.”

“Penetrate her?” Stav raised an eyebrow at her and bared his double set of fangs meaningfully. As a Blood Kindred, he looked a little like a vampire and like a vampire, he loved to bite. But the Blood Kindred didn’t really drink blood—they bit to inject their essence—the pale blue liquid secreted by their fangs. The essence helped bind their mates to them and it could also facilitate healing if a Blood Kindred’s bride was ill.

It also caused multiple orgasms, as Charlie knew from delicious experience.

Suddenly she felt the need to have Stavros in her—to feel both his fangs and his shaft deep inside her, filling her with himself in every possible way. But she felt a little awkward about asking. After all, he’d just endured a weird mental connection with the Dark Kindred who had almost killed him. It seemed like he needed comfort right now…not sex.

She shifted uncertainly and felt the sharp stab of a muscle cramp in her inner thigh.

“Ow!” she gasped, stepping back from Stav. “Damn it, that hurts!”

“What? What’s wrong?” Stavros was instantly worried. He had spent most of his life feeling the pain of others and though being freed from that curse was a blessing for the most part, it still seemed to bother him when he couldn’t tell exactly what was wrong with Charlie the minute anything hurt her.

“Oh, just my thigh.” She sighed and started to stretch it out. “I tried some new machine at the Exercise Arena today.” Which was what the Kindred called their on-ship gyms. “Must have pulled something because it hurts like H E double hockey sticks when I move a certain way.”

“It hurts like what?” Stav looked more concerned than ever. “I have seen the Earth sport Hockey. Does it feel like someone is beating you with those curving sticks they use?”

“No.” Charlie had to keep herself from laughing. “I didn’t mean it that way. It’s a nice way to say it hurts like hell—that’s all. It’s bound to get better after I stretch it out some.” She moved her leg again experimentally and winced. “But for now it’s still sore.”

“Let me see,” Stavros said, motioning for her to sit on the bed beside him.

“Why?” There’s nothing to see—I pulled a muscle, that’s all.”

“Let me see anyway.” He frowned. “Remember, I have some training as a medic. What if it’s more serious than you know? It’s better that I examine you.”

“Well…all right.” Charlie shrugged. “But I’m telling you, there’s nothing to see.”

Despite feeling like it was no big deal, she couldn’t help the way her heart sped up when she settled on the bed and lifted the hem of her deep red nighty to let him look. The color was almost burgundy and it looked good with her blonde hair and pale skin. It also had a small pair of silky burgundy panties to go with it.

“Hmm…” Stav slipped off the bed and knelt before her, insinuating his broad shoulder right between her thighs. It reminded Charlie of the way he liked to taste her and she could feel herself getting hot and bothered at the thought.

Comfort, he needs comfort right now, she reminded herself. But when he ran his big, warm hands up and down her bare thighs, she had to bite her lip. God, that felt amazing. And when he leaned forward to get a closer look at her thigh, she could feel his hot breath blowing over the crotch of her panties, making her pussy feel wet and swollen.

Then his big fingers brushed over the tender spot in her thigh and she gasped.

“Hurts here?” He looked up at her questioningly.

Charlie nodded. “That…that’s the spot,” she said rather breathlessly. “But I’ve tried massaging it and stretching it already—I think it’ll just have to wear itself out.”

“Or I could bite you,” Stav murmured, stroking the sore spot on her thigh. “I know you’re tender, Falinda, so I promise I’ll be careful. You’ll barely feel it as I slide my fangs into your flesh.”

His words made Charlie shiver with desire. She’d had a secret vampire fetish since she was a teenager and had read her first Anne Rice book. After that, she had devoured anything vampire related and the fact that her man had fangs was a huge turn on for her. Still, she tried to remind herself that he was only healing her, giving and receiving comfort, not looking for sex.

“Sure,” she said, trying to smile. “As long as you’re gentle.”

“You know I will be.” Bending over her, he kissed her hurt thigh lightly. “Sometimes I wish I still had my Curse—just so I could feel any ache or pain you might have and heal you right away. You should have told me you were hurting earlier, Charlotte.”

“I don’t want to bother you with every little ache and pain I ever get,” Charlie protested.

“But I want you to.” He was nuzzling her thigh gently now, rubbing his scratchy cheek against her tender flesh. It was a Kindred thing, Charlie had learned—a way of scent marking their partner. Since the Kindred sense of smell was so much stronger than what humans possessed, scents were very important to them.

“Well then…heal me,” she whispered. The feel of his hot breath and his rough cheek against her inner thigh was driving her wild.

“It will be my very great pleasure, Falinda,” he murmured, kissing her thigh lightly. Then he opened his mouth, letting his fangs extend to their greatest length.

Charlie shivered to see the long, curving double set of fangs on either side of his mouth with the blue droplets of essence already beading at their tips. I have to try not to come when he bites me, she told herself. It’s not about sex this time—it’s about healing and comfort.

At that moment Stav sank his sharp points deep into the tender flesh of her thigh. As he had promised, it was a smooth, almost painless entry. Though Charlie tried to steel herself for the effects of his essence, she was helpless to stop the lust and need that overwhelmed her. A whip crack orgasm raced through her, turning her nipples to hard little points and making her pussy liquid with desire.

She bit her lip, trying to hold back the moan that filled her throat and grabbed fistfuls of the bedspread on either side of her to stop from threading her fingers through Stav’s hair. Oh God…so good…so good! The pleasure went on and on, racing through her, stroking her like a big, warm hand that had somehow found its way under her very skin to the core of her desire.

After what seemed like an eternity of breathless panting and silent moaning on her part, Stavros withdrew his fangs, sliding them out of her thigh as smoothly and painlessly as he had slid them in. Charlie breathed a sigh of relief as the pleasure coursing through her ended. God, she hadn’t known how much more she could take before she started begging him to take her! Normally it wouldn’t be a problem but she was still trying to be sensitive to his needs.

“My, my,” Stav murmured. He was still between her thighs and he seemed to be frowning at something.

“What…what is it?” Charlie asked uncertainly. The place he had bitten her was already healed, sealed when he licked her to rid her of the small wounds. So what was he staring at?

“Well, it seems that healing your thigh had an unintended effect.” He ran one long finger down the slit at the center of her pussy. “Your panties are soaked, Charlie.”

Charlie bit her lip as she looked down to where he was pointing. It was true that the burgundy silk of the panties she wore was damp and clinging to her mound. The thin, wet material clearly outlined her wet pussy lips and even the little bump of her clit which was peeping out from between them.

“God,” she whispered and had to fight the urge to close her legs. For years she’d felt self conscious about the way she got so wet when she was aroused. The first man she’d ever slept with had been disgusted by it and hadn’t been shy about letting her know how he felt. Charlie had developed a real complex about the way her body reacted to pleasure—so much so that she’d never allowed another man to taste her pussy. That is, until Stavros came along.

Like all Kindred, he not only loved to go down on his female—he needed to. And as a Blood Kindred, he had a special affinity for women who got especially wet. There was even a word for a girl like her—numala or “liquid pussy” in the Kindred tongue.

“Beautiful,” Stavros breathed, his warm breath ghosting over her wet pussy. “So beautiful the way you get so wet, Falinda.”

Charlie squirmed and bit her lip. Knowing that Stav loved how wet she got helped her get over her fear of being tasted, but there was still a lingering discomfort in realizing how obvious her desire was.

“It seems to me you might be ruining these little panties,” Stav murmured, stroking over her slit with one fingertip again. “Perhaps I should slip them off and clean you up a little with my tongue.”

“Do…do you want to?” It was still a minor revelation to Charlie how much he loved doing this. Probably because her first boyfriend had been so vocal in his dislike of it.

“How can you ask me that?” Stav was already reaching up to strip the clinging panties down her legs. Charlie lifted her hips to help him get them off. “I always want to taste you, Falinda,” he murmured, looking into her eyes. “I think about it all the time.”

He got the panties off and tossed them aside before turning his full attention back to her naked pussy. Charlie had just recently had a wax and she was completely bare—a fact that made her feel even more vulnerable than her excessive wetness.

“Gods,” he muttered hoarsely. “You’re so gorgeous like this—naked and wet and spread open for me. And I don’t think I’ve ever seen you completely without hair.”

“I wanted to try something different.” Charlie shrugged a little. “You like it?”

“I like anything to do with tasting your pussy, you know that,” Stav growled softly. “But right now I need to clean you up. You’ve got honey everywhere.”

“I…I know.” Charlie looked down at her plump, naked pussy lips and bit her lip. They were swollen with need and shiny with her juices. “I can’t help it,” she whispered. “When you bit me and injected your essence…”

“I know. I felt you coming.” Stav looked up at her, his eyes half-lidded with desire. “I felt your pleasure as my own. You don’t need to be ashamed of it.”

“I…” Charlie wasn’t sure what to say. But just then Stavros shut her up by bending his head and licking her pussy in a long, slow stroke using the flat of his tongue. “Ohhhhh,” she gasped, her head falling back as his warm, wet tongue dragged over her sensitive flesh.

“Relax, Falinda,” she heard him say. “Just open your thighs and let me taste you.”

“Stav!” she moaned as he licked her again and then again. At first the strokes were broad and long, covering the entire length of her pussy slit, bathing her outer pussy with warmth. But then Stav put his big hands on her thighs and parted her with his thumbs.

“Gods, your little clit is so perfect,” he whispered hoarsely. Then he ducked his head again and sucked the throbbing pink pearl between his lips.

Charlie moaned as she felt him circling her sensitive bud with the tip of his tongue. Stav was always so gentle when he did this and yet he somehow managed to convey great urgency—as though he loved her taste and couldn’t get enough.

Unable to hold still, Charlie wove her fingers through his thick, wild mane and pulled him closer, bucking her hips up shamelessly to meet his mouth.

“Stav,” she heard herself babbling. “Oh God, Stav…don’t stop…don’t stop!”

And just at that moment he stopped.

“Stav!” she wailed, opening her eyes and looking down at him. “What the—”

“I think you’re all cleaned up now.” He looked up at her, his indigo eyes teasing. His entire mouth and jaw were wet with her juices and as she watched, he slowly licked his lips as though savoring her taste.

“Stav, I swear to God, if you leave me wanting like this…What the hell are you doing?” Charlie demanded, feeling so frustrated she could almost cry. She’d been so close.

“I’m teaching you a little lesson. You’ve been thinking about how I only wanted comfort from you, not sex.”

“You heard that?” Charlie bit her lip. Their bond was still so knew she sometimes forgot that Stav could catch her private thoughts sometimes as well as the ones she sent him.

“I couldn’t help it,” he said dryly. “You think very loudly—you always have.”

“I can’t help that,” Charlie said defensively. “And anyway, you shouldn’t have been eavesdropping.”

“It’s not eavesdropping to hear thoughts that are projected directly into my mind. Besides…” Stav sat up and cupped her cheek. “You should know that sex with you is a great comfort, Falinda. Making love with you, holding you in my arms and my heart at the same time…it replenishes me. It restores my soul.”

Charlie smiled.

“That’s very poetic of you, honey. It makes me feel kinda bad—I wasn’t thinking of ‘replenishing my soul’—I’m just horny. But I didn’t want to be pushy about it.”

“Be as ‘pushy’ as you want. I’ll always want you,” Stav murmured. He leaned forward and nuzzled against her breasts but this time he was definitely seeking more than comfort. Charlie moaned softly as she felt his hot breath against her nipples through the thin fabric of her nightgown.

“In that case I’ll be pushy enough to say I want you too. No, not just want you—I need you. Inside me,” Charlie told him bluntly. “I need your fangs in my throat and your cock deep in my pussy. I need it now.”

A low growl of desire rose in his throat and suddenly he was up off the floor and onto the bed with her. Before she could say another word, he had scooped her into his arms and was sitting on the edge of the bed with her straddling his lean hips.

“Stav!” she gasped breathlessly as he reached between them to push down his sleep trousers, baring his long, thick shaft.

“Charlotte,” he murmured in return. “Tell me now if you do not want this because I can’t hold back much longer.”

“I want it,” Charlie assured him, looking into his half-lidded eyes, blazing with lust. “I want it so much I’m going to scream if you don’t give it to me.”

“I’ll make you scream, all right,” Stav promised in a deep rumble. “Scream and cry and moan.”

“Please,” Charlie begged him, reaching between them for the thick shaft. She loved the feel of him in her hand—his cock was like a bar of heated steel covered in silk. “Please put it in me now—I need you.” She fitted the broad, mushroom shaped head to her entrance and spread her thighs even further.

“Gods, and I need you, Falinda. So much.” Stav groaned as he thrust up into her and she sank down to meet him at the same time.

Charlie gasped his name and dug her fingernails into his broad shoulders by reflex. A low, encouraging growl was her reward. She had learned that Stavros liked a little pain with his pleasure—possibly because Blood Kindred liked being bitten almost as much as they liked biting.

“Yes,” she heard him growl through their mental link. “Bite me, Falinda. Bite me and ride me until you come all over my shaft. And then it will be my turn to bite you…”

He didn’t have to ask her twice. Leaning down, Charlie sank her little white teeth into the strong column of his throat, latching on to the side of his neck as he thrust inside her.

Stav gasped and pulled her closer, locking arms that felt like muscular steel beams around her waist and hips. Charlie felt him surge inside her, his thick length growing even thicker as he pressed deep into her soft, velvety core.

Part of the pleasure of making love with Stavros was that he created a kind of feed-back loop between them. She could feel the sensations he was feeling—the way her inner pussy wrapped around him like a velvet glove and he could feel her pleasure as well—the way her inner walls stretched to take him and the lightning flashes of intense sensation when the blunt head of his cock kissed the mouth of her womb with each thrust. This feedback ability was the only thing left of his old Curse and Charlie loved it—it made making love with him a unique and addictive experience.

“I’m addicted to you too, Falinda,” she heard him growl through their link. “Are you close, do you think? I want to fill you with my seed as I sink my fangs into your neck.”

Charlie released him and licked the small wound her even white teeth had made on the side of his throat.

“Then do it,” she said aloud, her voice husky with passion. “Come on, honey—bite me.”

His eyes flashed with need but he shook his head.

“You haven’t come yet.”

“But I’m damn close,” Charlie pointed out. “And you know the minute you bite me and inject me, I won’t be able to help it. I’ll come right along with you.”

“If you’re sure…” The need in his voice made it ragged and hoarse.

“Always sure,” Charlie assured him. She undulated her hips, rocking against him to make her point. “Bite me, sweetheart—I want you to. I want your fangs in me deep.”

As always, her assertion that she wanted his bite drove Stavros wild. For years as a Cursed One, no female of Tranq Prime, his home world, had wanted his bite. The fact that Charlie was desperate to feel his fangs in her made him incredibly hot.

“Bare your throat for me.” His voice was a deep, guttural growl. “And spread your thighs wide, Falinda. I’m going to plant my seed deep in your soft little cunt tonight. Going to fill you up with my cum.”

Charlie moaned at his dirty words. She loved when he talked like this to her—it was as much of a turn on as the way he tasted her and made love to her.

Shifting her hair out of the way, she pressed the side of her neck to his mouth and waited for his fangs.

This time Stav wasn’t quite so gentle—maybe because he knew Charlie wasn’t adverse to a little pain with her pleasure either. She moaned at the piercing sting of the double sets of razor sharp points puncturing her tender flesh. Then, as before, he began to inject her and an orgasm rolled over her, making her gasp and clench helplessly all around him.

“Gods, you’re so tight around me!” she heard him growl through their link. “Love you, Charlie—love you so much!”

“I love you too,” she managed to gasp and then he thrust up hard inside her, almost as if he was reaching for her heart, and she felt the head of his cock pressing hard against the mouth of her womb. She gasped and stiffened against him as he swelled even thicker within her. Then something hot and wet spurted against the end of her channel, making her moan again.

“Stav!” she gasped as he continued to bathe her pussy with his seed. God, he felt so good inside her…so right. And as he came inside her, she felt his pleasure at the way her inner walls spasmed around him, almost milking the cum from him, as well as her own pleasure at the feel of him coming so deep inside her.

“Stav,” she moaned again. “Stavros! God…love you so much!”

“I love you too, Falinda,” he murmured, finally withdrawing his fangs. “Love you forever.”

Charlie felt her heart overflowing and for a moment she thought she might actually cry she was so overwhelmed. She looked deep into her man’s eyes and opened her mouth to tell him it was forever because she was never leaving…

And then the world grayed out and Stav’s indigo eyes disappeared. Instead, she was seeing something completely different.

After a moment, she realized it was the interior of a little spaceship—much like the Kindred shuttles they used to ferry people back and forth between the Mother Ship and Earth. And in the shuttle, was a tall, black haired man with piercing silver-blue eyes. He was holding a girl with creamy brown skin to his bare chest and rocking her gently.

He was saying something but Charlie couldn’t quite hear the words. What was going on? How was she seeing this?

But just as she thought to ask those questions, the scene changed and she saw Two speaking to what looked like a living pile of mud.

“Alas, they have escaped my liege,” Two was saying, his steel teeth flashing as he spoke. “But never fear, I will bring them back. And when I am done, they will beg for the merciful death of the passion berries. But no, I have a different fate in store for our lovely couple. A fate so much worse than death…”

He threw back his head and laughed—at least Charlie thought it was laughing. A strange, unearthly howling noise issued from his skinny throat, sending chills down her spine.

“They deserve no less,” the mud creature said in a thick, clotted voice. “Your reward will be great if you accomplish this, Two.”

“How great?” Two’s eye gleamed with greed but somehow Charlie didn’t think he was greedy for money.

“I have been dishonored in my own lair,” the mud creature said. “You shall have whatever you wish.”

“Then you will See for me?” It was clear by the way he spoke the word that it had some great significance.

The mud creature frowned, making it look like his face was melting off.

“That is a very great request. As you know, my people can only See three times in their lifetime and then the gift is gone. I have lived a long life and have already Seen twice. I had thought to use my last Seeing to find the manner and time of my own death, so that I could circumvent it as others of my kind do.”

“Ah, so you do not wish me to go after the two of them after all.” Two shrugged his narrow, bony shoulders and sighed deeply. “I understand, my liege.”

“I did not say that.” The mud creature shifted slowly in its chair, making it obvious to Charlie why he couldn’t go after the girl and the dark haired man himself. Clearly he was slow as molasses in January, as her Mama used to say. There was no way he’d be able to get himself going in time to catch anyone if it came to a chase.

Two, on the other hand, with his skinny physique and stringy muscles looked like he could really move. And she knew from awful experience how strong he was—he’d dangled her by the ankle over a bottomless pit and almost dropped her to her death. He was definitely the man for the job if you wanted to catch someone, she decided.

“Well?” Two asked, looking down at the mud creature. “Will you agree to my terms?”

“I must consider.” The mud creature frowned. “They are probably long gone, even as we speak. How can you find them? And even if you do, how will you approach them without them knowing? Your appearance is…singular, even for one of your kind.”

“If you’re referring to my striking good looks, I must thank you for the compliment.” Two performed an elaborate bow. “But as to tracking them, finding people who want to stay hidden and knowing information that is supposed to be secret is something of a specialty of mine.”

“They why do you wish me to See for you?” the mud creature asked.

“Because some things are beyond even my ability to discern,” Two admitted. “Not this, however. I know exactly where the two miscreants you wish to have punished are and I have a way to get right next to them—to even touch them—without them having any idea about it.”

“That sounds…mysterious.”

“Mysterious but very effective. I can punish these two for you in any way you see fit. If you will do the Seeing.”

“I must consider. Leave me for now.”

“As you command, my liege.” Two bowed obsequiously and backed out of the room. But look at his face, Charlie thought. He’s like the cat that got the cream. He knows Mr. Muddy-britches will come around. All he has to do is wait.

“I just wonder what he wants the Lud’om to See for him,” Stav’s mental voice murmured in her ear.

Charlie blinked and suddenly she was back again in Stavros’s arms on the side of the bed.

“What happened?” she asked, looking at him wide-eyed. “So you saw all that too?”

“I did.” Stav looked grim. “And so did you, apparently. The only question is how?”

Chapter Ten

“I’m cold. So c-cold.” Trin shivered helplessly and Thrace held her close, rubbing his hands over her back to try and get her warm.

She’d been shivering ever since she woke up, an hour after he’d gotten them aboard the small life pod. Even the thermal blanket he’d found in the emergency stores and wrapped around her seemed to do no good—probably because the damn passion berries demanded physical contact to counteract their effects. So he was holding her, trying to warm her with his own body heat though he wasn’t sure she’d like it. It wasn’t like she had much choice, though—it was be held by him or shake herself apart. Thrace thought she’d prefer the former to the latter—he hoped anyway.

At least she was all right. For awhile there, after he’d gotten the pod a safe distance from the Demon’s Eye, he’d been afraid she wouldn’t wake up at all. She’d been so still—barely breathing—and her cheek had been icy when he’d touched her. That was when Thrace had gathered her into his arms and held her close to his bare chest, trying to warm her and wake her.

But for a long time she wouldn’t wake. As he stared at her still face, he’d wondered what he would do if she slipped away. Not that he should care about her—not after the way she’d chained him up and treated him like a Gods-damned pet. But he did care—there was something about her. Something he didn’t want to lose. What, though?

Nothing, he told himself uneasily. I still owe her a debt which I must repay. It would darken my honor if she died before I could make it right. That’s why I don’t want her to die—only that and nothing more. Still, he couldn’t bring himself to let her go and he’d been filled with relief when she finally opened her eyes.

“Why am I s-so c-cold?” she whispered, looking up at him.

“That’s just the effects of the passion berry wine you drank,” Thrace said grimly, brushing a lock of her long black hair out of her face. “You’re lucky you’re not dead.” Then, as relief gave way to anger he demanded, “What in the Seven Hells were you thinking, going into that place alone?”

Trin frowned and wrapped her arms around herself.

“Don’t talk to me like that! I had a deal with B’Rugh. I knew it was risky but it was a risk I had to take. And it’s not like I went in unarmed or unprepared.” She lifted one hand where a thin gold wire ring was slipped over her slim index finger. There was a tiny green light on the underside of the ring glowing a steady green. “See? A toxin sensor. I just don’t understand why it didn’t detect the poison that man with the steel teeth put in my cup.”

“It didn’t detect it because passion berries aren’t really a poison even though they act like one in the wrong doses—they’re an aphrodisiac. A very deadly aphrodisiac,” Thrace told her.

“An aphrodisiac?” Trin struggled to sit up and get out of his arms.

Obligingly, Thrace helped her, sitting her on the side of the fold out bunk where he’d been holding her. Hopefully some of the drug was leaving her system. At least, she no longer looked like she was going to freeze to death—for now, anyway. Later on might be a different story.

“An aphrodisiac?” she said again. “But I don’t feel…sexual.” Her creamy cheeks flushed a bit. “I just feel cold.”

“Because you only took the first sip,” Thrace said. “The rule of passion berries is the first sip makes you cold, the second makes you hot and the third makes you dead.”

“What?” She frowned.

Briefly, he described the effects of the passion berry laced wine if a second and third drink of it was taken.

“Goddess.” Trin put a hand to her mouth and her face grew so pale it worried him. “So you’re saying B’Rugh—”

“Was taking no chances,” Thrace said grimly. “He wanted you and he meant to have you, whether you agreed to his ‘deal’ or not.”

“Ugh…” Trin shivered again and this time it clearly wasn’t from cold. “I still don’t understand why he would want such a thing from me! We’re clearly not compatible species.”

“I believe he said it was the color of your skin that drew him,” Thrace murmured, eyeing the creamy light brown tones of her cheek with admiration. “In that I can’t say that I blame him. You are unique, Trin. And fucking gorgeous, as I think I mentioned before.”

She drew away from him, eyeing him uneasily.

“Why are you saying this to me? You want the same thing B’Rugh did? I told you—I won’t be penetrated by a male. Ever.”

“It was a compliment. An ill-timed one, apparently.” Thrace sighed and held up his hands in a gesture of peace. “Look, I didn’t save you from getting raped just to rape you myself. I’m not like that—I’ve never taken a female against her will and I don’t intent to start now.”

“They why did you say all those things to be back aboard The Alacrity?” Trin demanded. “Why did you tell me all the things you…fantasized about doing to me?”

“I was bored,” Thrace growled. “Bored and horny out of my fucking mind. You had me chained up, treating me like a pet you could wash and feed and play with while you walked around in your panties and nightdress exposing yourself like I wouldn’t care.”

“I told you, I didn’t know you’d care,” Trin protested. She sighed. “Look, I realize you hate me for what I did to you and for not believing you when you said you weren’t a slave. It’s clear now I was wrong about your past—you couldn’t have been a slave if you were off fighting B’Rugh and his kind for control of your planet.”

“Well…” For a moment he actually considered telling her about his past—about what had happened when he was sixteen cycles old and he and his Sire had been taken by slavers. But only for a moment. “It’s all right,” he said roughly at last. “You had no reason to believe me.”

“I had no reason to disbelieve you either—other than my fear of your physical strength and my distrust of your sex,” Trin said. “I treated you as inferior because you’re male. I’m sorry for that but I can’t change the past.”

“What’s done is done.” Thrace made a chopping gesture with one hand. “It’s over now.”

“Why did you come for me?” She wrapped the thermal blanket more tightly around her slim shoulders and looked at him uncertainly. “After what I did to you? Chaining you up…treating you like you were one of my pets…”

“Because before you did all those things, you saved my life,” he said roughly. “That fucking slaver at the Flesh Bazaar would have killed me with the pain collar and why not? I was pure profit and no loss to him since he scooped up me and my friend Solar at a dirty little portside bar on Padge. He could have killed me and not lost a moment’s sleep about it but you…you cared. Even though you don’t like males and I was a stranger to you, you cared enough to stop him. To save me.” He looked into her eyes. “That matters, Trin.”

She held his gaze for a moment, her dark eyes wide and uncertain.

“So…a life for a life? We’re even now, is that it?”

“Even?” Thrace got off the bunk and started pacing. “Ha. Not even close.”

Trin shook her head. “I don’t understand. What more do you want me to do? Obviously you can have your freedom—with my apologies of course. And I can take you wherever you want to go—”

“No, you don’t understand.” Thrace turned to her. “We’re not even because I still owe you.”

“Owe me what?” She looked completely confused now.

“Don’t play dumb,” Thrace snapped. “I know how much you paid for me—fifty thousand credits. It nearly bankrupted you, didn’t it? That’s why you decided to go into the Demon’s Eye alone—you were desperate.”

She lifted her chin, fire flashing in her dark eyes.

“I’m never desperate. I told you, I took a calculated risk.”

“One that almost got you raped and killed,” Thrace pointed out harshly.

“I’ve thanked you for saving me and given you back your freedom,” she flared. “What more do you want?”

“I’ll tell you what I don’t fucking want,” Thrace growled. “I don’t want my freedom. Not yet, anyway.” He took a deep breath. “I’m going to continue being your slave until I make this right—until I pay the debt between us.”

“What?” She looked at him blankly. “But that could take years. You don’t know what you’re offering.”

“Yes I do. Gods…” Thrace shook his head. “I never thought I’d volunteer for slavery willingly but I don’t see any other way—a Havoc always pays his debts. And besides, it won’t take years. It’ll only take until you can sell these.” Reaching into the pocket of his tight leather trousers, he produced the small black bag filled with Jaxite crystals.

“You got them?” Trin jumped up from the bunk, shedding the thermal blanket in her excitement. “You got the crystals?”

“Of course I did,” Thrace said roughly but he couldn’t help liking the excitement and joy he saw in her eyes and knowing he was responsible for it. “Had to blast some big holes in a few of B’Rugh’s thugs to get both them and you out of there but I got them.”

“That’s wonderful!” Trin actually laughed, a low, musical sound that he liked a hell of a lot. “Amazing.” She frowned. “Now that I think of it, the last thing I remember before I blacked out was that we were surrounded.”

“Not for long. I rigged the blaster’s power switch and turned it into a heatbeam—little trick I learned in the war with the Lud’oms. Cut a few of B’Rugh’s thugs in half and blasted a few more to puddles of twitching ooze…they got out of the way pretty quick after that.”

Her eyes widened. “You overrode the safety setting? You could have blown your hand off!”

Thrace shrugged. “It was a calculated risk—like the one you took. Just so happens it paid off. You complaining?”

“No…” She looked thoughtful. “I guess I don’t have room to complain considering the results. It’s something I never would have done myself but well…”

“But your new slave is crazy,” Thrace growled. “So he does whatever the hell it takes to get the job done.”

* * * * *

“I’m glad you do,” Trin said seriously. She was still stunned that he’d come for her—she really couldn’t complain about his methods. “Listen, about this slave business,” she began. “You really don’t have to—”

“Yes, I do,” Thrace interrupted, frowning. “I told you, a Havoc always pays what he owes. It’s a point of honor and pride among us. If you deny me the right to serve you until I have paid this debt, my honor will be forever darkened.”

“Well…” Trin looked at him uncertainly. Males were such strange creatures—so big and strong and stubborn. There seemed to be no reasoning with him about this. Though she honestly felt he had more than paid his debt by rescuing her from B’Rugh’s horrible plot, he seemed determined to help her sell the crystals as well.

But can I trust him? What’s to stop him from taking over the ship the minute I let him back on board? Of course if he’d wanted to do that, he probably already could’ve done it when he got out of his chains in the first place. How had he gotten free, anyway? A sick feeling formed in the pit of her stomach.

“How did you get loose in the first place?” she asked softly. “My crew…”

“Are fine,” he assured her. “Your good friend, Sidna let me go. Then she held me at blaster point and forced me into one of the pods—this one, in fact. I’m afraid we had to leave yours behind back at the Demon’s Eye since I couldn’t pilot them both.”

“Sidna let you go?” Trin asked without surprise. It was exactly what the medic had been advocating before she left—the exact course of action Trin herself had decided on, in fact. She supposed she ought to be mad at her friend for going behind her back and making the final decision without her but considering the circumstances, she really couldn’t be upset. If Sidna hadn’t set the huge Havoc free, Trin would be helpless, at the mercy of the slimy B’Rugh right now. Ugh!

“She let me go and she’s fine—they’re all fine. Trin…” Thrace looked at her steadily with those pale, piercing eyes. “Let me do this. You need me to make the sale on Yonnie Six—I know you do. Sidna said so.”

Trin frowned, trying to think of an objection. One popped immediately to mind.

“My crew won’t like it,” she said. “They think you’re a monster and they saw Sidna escort you out of the ship at blaster point. They’ll never believe you asked to serve me.”

“I’ll make them believe,” Thrace promised steadily. “I can be very convincing when I want to be.”

“They won’t like to have a male—especially such a, uh, big one running around the ship free,” she pointed out.

“That’s probably true.” He sighed. “All right, I can’t believe I’m saying this but…put the pain collar back on me. Then keep the remote on you at all times if you want.”

“Ugh!” Trin made a face. “I threw it away as soon as I got you aboard The Alacrity! I can’t bear those things!”

“I fucking hate them too,” Thrace said steadily. “I have good reason ton. But your crew needs assurances and I can tell you still have some doubts as well. So dig it out of your trash bin, dust it off, and put it on me.”

Trin looked at him uncertainly.

“You’re sure about this?”

“Positive. Once we get to the ship I’ll wait in the pod with the doors locked until you get the collar and bring it to me. Bring the crew too—let them watch you put it on. That should put their minds at ease.”

“And all this just so you can pay your debt?” Trin still couldn’t believe it.

His pale eyes flashed.

“You’re damned right, Trin. I won’t go through life owing anyone so much as one fucking credit—let alone fifty thousand of them. I pay my own way.”

Trin suppressed a small smile.

“You know, if you’re going to remain my slave and it’s going to look convincing, you’re going to have to start calling me Mistress.”

Thrace cleared his throat and looked at her.

“I can do that…Mistress.”

The word sounded strange in his deep, gravelly voice and yet right somehow in a way Trin couldn’t define. She looked at him for a moment more and made her decision.

“All right,” she said at last. “We’ll do it. You’ll remain my slave until I can sell the Jaxite crystals on Yonnie Six. After that, we’re even and you’re free to go. Or I’ll drop you off wherever you need to be. Agreed?”

“Agreed.” He nodded his head. “Mistress.”

Chapter Eleven

Thrace didn’t know why he’d asked to stay on as Trin’s slave. Oh, he knew the outer reason—the one he’d given her—that a Havoc always pays his debts. But there was more to it than that, though he hardly wanted to admit it, even to himself. The plain fact was, he was reluctant to leave her.

Maybe it was the way she’d felt in his arms, the scent of her hair and skin, the helpless way she trembled against him as he tried to warm her. Maybe it was her soft voice, her sweet laugh or that warm, feminine scent that followed her everywhere and seemed to get into his brain somehow. Thrace didn’t know—he only knew he wasn’t ready to leave yet. And even if it meant putting back on that fucking pain collar and calling her his mistress, he was going to stay until he was damn well ready to go.

His only reservation was that he felt bad about not going to look for Solar right away. But his First Mate and best friend was a resourceful son of a bitch. He would land on his feet wherever he was. Thrace promised himself as soon as he had seen this thing through and paid off his debt, he would go looking for the other Havoc. In the meantime, he had unfinished business that he had to see through before he could consider himself free to hunt down his friend.

Consider yourself free—right, whispered a sarcastic little voice in his head. Why are you really doing this, Thrace? What is it about this female that makes it worth giving up the chance to go free and putting that fucking pain collar on again? She doesn’t even like males and she’s damn sure never going to let you have her. Even if she would, it’s not like you’d want to bond to her—you’re Havoc remember? ‘We do not bond’—it’s your fucking code. So what the hell is wrong with you and why are you doing this?

Thrace didn’t have the answer for the little voice. It’s the debt, he told himself stubbornly. I have to pay my debt. Only then can I truly be free. Only then can I leave. Not before.

At last they docked with The Alacrity and Trin went out to get the collar. Thrace stayed in the pod waiting for her, trying to steel himself for what he had to do.

It had been his idea, of course and it was a good one—the only way she and the rest of her crew could trust him. But still, when she returned, holding the hated black leather strap studded with silver spikes, Thrace was surprised at the rush of emotion that threatened to overwhelm him. He had to swallow hard and clench his jaw to keep himself in control.

Let’s fit you with a collar, my boy, whispered the voice of his old Master. I think it might teach you some respect…

He closed his eyes, breathing hard. Stop it…fucking stop it! That’s over and done. This isn’t the same at all. The collar is for show this time—just for show!

“Thrace, are you all right?” Trin’s soft, concerned voice made him open his eyes and look up at her. Speaking of this all being for show, he saw that the crew was crowded behind her in the entrance of the pod. There was Sidna, the ship’s medic staring at him with hard, uncompromising eyes and the navigator, a female in her forties with short blonde hair and a curious gaze. There were others too, whose roles he didn’t know, but all of them were female and all had skeptical looks on their faces. Clearly they would take some convincing.

And you sure as hell can’t convince them that you’re doing this willingly if you go fucking berserk while they’re watching. Get hold of yourself, Thrace! he lectured himself sternly. Just get through this thing. Once the collar’s on it won’t be so bad. Remember who’s going to be holding the remote—it’s Trin, not the Master.

“Thrace?” Trin asked again and he nodded shortly.

“I am well.” His voice came out stiff and halting and he tried again. “I am well and ready to be collared.”

“I don’t believe this,” Sidna said flatly. “You’re saying he’s staying on as your slave willingly? And he’s also willing to wear the collar—the one that almost killed him?”

“He is,” Trin said steadily, looking at Thrace though she was answering the medic. “Thrace volunteered to wear the pain collar so that you and the rest of the crew would know he is not a threat. I have the remote and I will use it if it looks like he is trying to harm any one of us.”

“I would expect nothing less,” Thrace said stolidly. He took a deep breath. There was nothing to do but get it over with. Taking a step towards her, he fell to his knees on the cold metal floor at her feet. “Mistress,” he said, his voice coming out hoarse and gravely. “I submit to you and offer my neck for your collar. I will serve you until I die or until you set me free.”

Trin cleared her throat. “And you submit to my collar and my will of your own volition?”

“I do,” Thrace said hoarsely. “I will belong to you body and soul. I will protect you with my life, shield you from harm in times of danger, and pleasure you in times of peace. To the last drop of my blood, I…am…yours.”

Those words…the words he had always refused to say. He said them to Trin now. They brought back more memories—an evil tide of poison from the past that threatened to drown him. Say it! the Master screamed. Say that you’re mine! Fucking say it, boy!

Thrace bowed his head, trying to drive the tide back, to banish the past. Gods…

“Thrace…” Trin reached out tentatively and stroked his hair. It was a gentle touch—the same way she might soothe an animal on the verge of panic. Thrace found himself soothed by it now.

He couldn’t help himself—the memories had undone him and for a long moment he couldn’t push them back. He leaned into her touch, looking for reassurance, needing her scent and the warmth of her hand to know it was safe to do this…safe to submit to the collar he had so hated in the past.

Not the Master, he told himself over and over. She’s not the Master.

Why the fuck are you putting yourself through this? demanded the sarcastic little voice in his brain. Why endure the pain and the rush of bad memories? Is it really just to pay a debt?

Again, he had no answers. He simply held still under her touch, breathing her warm, feminine scent and trying to calm his screaming nerves. Even surrounded by B’Rugh’s goons he hadn’t felt this fucked up—this threatened. In a moment he would be able to bury the past again. But for now, it was all he could do to hold still and let this happen, all he could do to submit to the collar for her sake though he still didn’t know why exactly he was doing it.

“Thrace,” Trin whispered again and her hand moved lower, caressing his cheek, cupping his jaw.

A warm current seemed to flow through him at the skin-to-skin touch and at last his labored breathing became easier.

Not the Master…The past began to recede.

“Are you sure you can do this?” Trin asked in a low voice, for his ears alone.

Thrace looked up at her. “I have to,” he murmured. “It’s the only way you can trust me.”

She looked troubled but at last she nodded.

“True. All right—here goes.”

Thrace held his breath and closed his eyes as she fastened the hated black collar around his throat, making sure it wasn’t too tight as she fit it in place. Not the Master…not the Master, not the Master…

“There.” She said at last, cupping his cheek again. “It’s done.”

“Thank you, Mistress.”

Thrace could barely get the words out. Turning his face, he pressed a kiss to the palm of her hand. It was the final gesture of submission—kissing the hand that collared him.

He knew it was the correct gesture because it was what the old Master had demanded of him. But he had never given the old Master that satisfaction or said the words he had spoken to Trin, no matter how much the Master shouted and raved and hit. No matter what…other things he did.

Now he gave the gesture of submission to Trin without hesitation, just as he had given the words.

Why?

He still didn’t know.

The debt. I just have to pay off the debt.

The debt. Right.

“Rise, slave,” he heard her say in a strange, slightly strangled voice. “I claim you as my own and demand your utmost respect and loyalty at all times. You will serve in whatever capacity I deem necessary and you will not be free until I say you are. Until I remove this collar and give you your freedom you are mine.”

So she knew the words too. Was that from being around the mistresses of Yonnie Six? Thrace wondered as he looked up at her and got slowly to his feet.

He heard an uneasy murmur from The Alacrity’s crew as he stood to his full height and towered over all of them. But Trin held up a hand to quiet them.

“You all saw the ceremony,” she said in a clear, ringing voice. “You see that Thrace is wearing the collar and I have the remote.” She lifted it high, letting them all get a good look. “You can go about your business now with confidence that you’re safe.”

“I don’t feel so very confident,” the navigator said, frowning. “Why would he let you put the collar on him in the first place? Why come back when Sidna had set him free to go his own way?”

“To pay a debt,” Thrace answered before Trin could speak. “You may not think much of males but my people are honorable. Captain Trin…my Mistress, paid a great deal of credit to buy my life. When I have paid that back, we have agreed she will set me free and let me go my own way. Until then, I am her humble, obedient, and willing slave.”

“Well…” The navigator looked somewhat mollified. “I guess we’ll see about that. But I hope she shocks the hell out of you if you try anything.”

“I will,” Trin said steadily. “You don’t have to worry about your safety—none of you do. The remote is now keyed to my heat signature and palm print alone. No one else can use it and no one can take it from me. Here, Sidna—try.” She held out the remote to the medic and waited until the older female unfolded her arms and reached for the small black rectangle.

“Ouch!” She jumped back as a bright spark flashed between her fingertips and the remote.

“See?” Trin said, smiling grimly. “Perfectly safe.”

“How do we know he can’t take it?” one of the other crew members demanded.

“If Thrace so much as touches the remote it will cause his collar to deliver a very painful shock,” Trin announced.

“Let’s see it,” Sidna said.

“No, I won’t be needlessly cruel. He—” Before she could finish, Thrace reached for the remote.

The moment his fingertips brushed it the pain collar delivered a current of electrical pain so strong it made his entire body feel like he’d been dipped in boiling oil.

“Gods!” He gave a hoarse gasp and fell back to his knees, his hand clenched into fists and his heart pounding. Son of a bitch that hurt! But he well knew how necessary it had been.

“Thrace!” Trin knelt by him at once, putting the remote carefully to one side where everyone avoided it like the plague. “Are you all right?” she asked, looking at him anxiously.

“Fine.” He looked up at her, panting. “Just…had to do it.”

“No, you didn’t.” She looked back at the crew who was still standing there, staring. “Go on, all of you. Back to posts. And Nanda,” pointing at the navigator. “Set a course for Yonnie Six.”

There were several subdued murmurs of, “Yes, Captain,” and the crew immediately disbursed. All except Sidna who stood there staring at him for a long moment, a stony, disbelieving look on her face.

“Sidna, you too.” Trin frowned at the medic who shrugged.

“As you wish, Captain.” But she gave Thrace another hard look before she walked stiffly off, her soft soled shoes whispering along the metal floors.

* * * * *

Thrace tried to laugh but it came out sounding more like a croak to Trin.

“She doesn’t like me,” he muttered, nodding at Sidna’s retreating back. “Doesn’t like me one damn bit.”

“Because she doesn’t know you yet. Or trust you,” Trin said. She was still kneeling beside him, keeping one arm on his muscular bicep and watching him anxiously. From the moment she’d produced the collar, something had been wrong.

She’d seen his eyes go wide and the almost panicked look come into his face. She’d never seen that look on him before—not on the display platform in the Flesh Bazaar, not when he woke, chained to the cot and helpless, and not when they were surrounded and outnumbered by B’Rugh’s thugs.

But somehow the collar had brought that response out of him.

Why? Was it just because he’d nearly been killed by it before? That would certainly be reason enough to cause an extreme reaction but somehow Trin thought it was more than that. More of what she didn’t know. She only knew that at the sight of the collar the proud, fearless, reckless male she was coming to know and grudgingly respect had somehow lost himself. Or rather…he was only holding onto himself by a thread. Maybe that was why he’d shocked himself on purpose—to bring himself back, to clear his head somehow.

Or maybe he was just showing the crew they were safe. Come on, Trin—stop making up stories and deal with the reality, she lectured herself.

But the reality was that she’d seen genuine distress when she showed the collar to him…the reality was that his big body had trembled as she fastened it on.

But he still said the proper words and made the proper gestures, Trin reminded herself. It didn’t occur to her to wonder how Thrace knew the proper words and correct gestures. After all, they’d already established that she’d been wrong about his past. But there was something about the pain she’d seen in his pale, piercing eyes that twisted her heart.

If she’d really seen it there at all. Maybe she was just imagining things…

“I’m fine. I feel good.” Thrace was already getting to his feet again, dusting off the tight leather trousers and giving her an irreverent grin. “Well, was that show good enough for you, Mistress?”

“It was,” Trin acknowledged. Although she wondered how much of it was show.

“Good.” He nodded at her. “Well, let’s get back to the cabin. I assume I’ll be sleeping with you tonight?”

“What?” Trin looked at him, genuinely startled.

“At the foot of your bed, of course. As any good slave would.” He raised an eyebrow. “What did you think I meant?”

Trin cleared her throat, not willing to get into that.

“I’m sorry but the small room where you were before is supposed to be for my body-slave.”

“You mean the one where you had me chained down so I couldn’t move for days on end?” His voice dropped to a low growl. “Look, Mistress, no disrespect but I’m not going back in there. I…” He cleared his throat. “I can’t. Not on top of this.” He touched the collar lightly with his fingertips and winced again as he got a slight shock. The collar was wired to keep a slave from trying to take it off too.

“Thrace—”

“Please, Trin…it’s too much,” he muttered, meeting her eyes. “I fucking can’t. Not tonight, anyway.”

“I…” Trin wasn’t sure what to say. It was true that there was space on the floor at the end of her bed—her cabin was rather large as sleeping quarters went—probably because the ship had originally been built for an elegant and spoiled mistress from Yonnie Six. But she’d never expected to have to share it with anyone—most especially not a male.

Still one glance at his face convinced her. The look was back in his eyes—that indefinable look that made her wonder…that made her worry…that made her sorry.

“All right,” she said at last, stiffly. “But I’m sleeping with the remote in my hand. Come on, I’m tired.”

“As my Mistress wishes,” Thrace murmured and followed her out of the pod and down the long metal corridor without further comment.

Chapter Twelve

Sidna was waiting for her in front of her cabin door, as Trin had half expected she would be. She gave a mental sigh and straightened her shoulders, unwilling to show weakness although she was beginning to feel more weary than she ever had in her life.

“Sidna, what can I do for you?” she said, trying to keep her tone light.

“I’d like a moment of your time, Captain. Alone.” It was always a bad sign when Sidna called her by her title instead of her name. Inside, Trin groaned. Outwardly, she somehow managed to maintain a pleasant, professional expression.

“Of course. Thrace—go in the cabin please and turn my bed down for sleep. I’m tired.”

“I will. And then I’d like a shower, Mistress.” He raised his eyebrows at her, making it a request.

“Of course, that’s fine.” Trin nodded. “Just go.”

The huge Havoc nodded and walked into her cabin quietly. The metal door swooshed shut behind him.

Sidna looked at Trin, iron gray eyebrows raised in disbelief.

“So now you’re letting him sleep with you? A male? In your bed?” she demanded. “That’s sacrilege! The Goddess—”

“Of course he’s not sleeping in my bed,” Trin said briskly. “He’s sleeping on the floor so I can keep an eye on him.”

“Right. So you can keep an eye on him.” Sidna’s voice fairly dripped sarcasm.

Trin put a hand on her hip—time to nip this in the bud.

“What exactly are you implying, Sidna? And you’d better watch what you say. I don’t appreciate being insulted on my own ship.”

“I’m not implying—I’m saying that this…this male has you fooled. Somehow he’s convinced you that he’s trustworthy when he’s not—no male is and you know it!”

Trin felt her professional demeanor slipping. It had been a hell of a long day and she was bone weary and not completely sure about her choices. Which meant she really didn’t feel like defending them to her friend.

“You know how he convinced me to trust him, Sidna?” she demanded. “The fact that he came after me, all alone, and saved my life and my honor in the Demon’s Eye. Then he risked his own life to get me back here—fought off over a dozen of B’Rugh’s goons—and before you say that all males are disgusting beasts that only think about sex and breeding, he didn’t lay a hand on me either, even when I was completely vulnerable. Then he willingly let me put the collar on him just so you and the rest of the crew wouldn’t feel uneasy about him being on board. So that’s how he earned my trust. What else can he do to earn yours?”

“Nothing,” Sidna said flatly. “He’s a male—they’re inherently untrustworthy and you know it. But since he has you fooled, I’ll try my best to have your back when he turns on you.”

“He’s not going to turn on me like some rabid feral.” Trin couldn’t keep the exasperation out of her voice. “Look, is that all you came to say? Because I’m really tired—being in mortal danger and nearly being raped and killed will do that to a girl.”

Sidna’s lips thinned. “As a matter of fact, no that isn’t all. I also wanted to tell you that you have a message from Lady Malroth on Yonnie Six. I saved it for you on your private viewscreen.”

“Thank you.” Trin nodded. “That’s good news—maybe she’s ready to deal.”

“Maybe,” Sidna snapped. “And I guess you’re ready to deal as well—now that you have a body-slave at your side to legitimize you in the Yonnie Six circles.”

“I am,” Trin said calmly. “And as soon as I sell the Jaxite crystals I got from B’Rugh to Lady Malroth, I’ll make back the investment on Thrace. Then he’ll consider his debt paid, and he’ll go. All right?”

Sidna looked slightly mollified.

“Really? This isn’t a long term arrangement then? Because I never liked the idea of you buying a male slave in the first place and I don’t trust this one as far as I could throw him.”

“It’s just a one time thing,” Trin told her soothingly. “As soon as the deal is done, Thrace is gone.”

“Well…” Sidna took a deep breath. “I still don’t like it and I still don’t trust him. But I’m willing to stick by you, Trin—at least until Yonnie Six.”

“Thank you.” Trin put a hand on the other woman’s shoulder. “That means a lot to me, Sidna. Good medics are hard to find and good friends are even harder.”

A small smile graced the medic’s thin lips.

“Just be careful letting him in there with you. Sleep with that remote in your hand.” She nodded to the small, black rectangle Trin still held.

“I intend to,” Trin said gravely. “Now, I’d better go listen to the message Lady Malroth left. And then I’m going to get some sleep—I’m dead tired.”

“I’ll see you in the morning,” Sidna said, nodding. “Pleasant dreams, Trin.”

“Pleasant dreams, Sidna.” She watched the medic walk away with the feeling of a near disaster averted. Sidna was strong willed enough to stir the crew towards mutiny if she truly didn’t believe in a decision Trin had made. They’d had their differences in the past but never anything this severe. Trin just hoped she had put the older woman’s fears to rest.

And she hoped that Sidna was wrong about Thrace.

With a sigh, she went into her cabin and closed the door. There was nothing else to do.

* * * * *

When he came out of the shower, a towel wrapped around his hips, Thrace saw Trin was sitting on the end of her bed watching a message on the viewscreen.

“I received your message about your shipment of Jaxite crystals with cautious pleasure, mingled, I must confess, with more than a little trepidation,” a sharp, cultured voice said.

Thrace started to go back into the fresher—this was a private message, after all. But he could tell that the woman speaking was a mistress of Yonnie Six by the way she was dressed. She was wearing an outfit that was a bizarre mixture of modest and revealing. Her dress had a collar that went up to her chin and fell down to her ankles, covering her completely. It was a flat, opaque blue except for clear mesh panels over her breasts and the area between her thighs. Though they were technically covered, her breasts and sex were clearly revealed by the odd garment.

But her dress wasn’t the only strange thing about her—her hair was dyed deep blue to match her dress and swept up in an elaborate style that towered over her head. On her fingers, rings filled with rare and precious gems flashed as she talked.

Oh yeah, Yonnie Six, all right, Thrace thought. His old Master had had some dealings with the mistresses there—though he’d been forced to use a female envoy to conduct them. The Yonnites had absolutely no respect or use for males at all—except as body-slaves. That was about as much as Thrace knew about them and it was as much as he’d ever wanted to know. But since this call might affect his future freedom and Trin’s ability to sell the crystals, he figured he’d better listen in.

“My trepidation, of course, stems from the fact that last time you came to see me, you were not properly accessorized.” The Yonnie mistress emphasized the word. “I trust you know what I mean.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean,” Trin muttered from the bed. “You want me to have a body-slave, you snobbish prig.” Her back was still towards him so she didn’t see Thrace standing in the shadows watching her. There was a slump to her slim shoulders that spoke of her weariness and he felt a surge of pity for his new mistress.

“I very much want the shipment and I’m prepared to give you a very fair price. But…” The mistress held up one ringed finger. “You must have a proper body-slave with you this time. It is of utmost importance as the only place I can see you is at the Landra-Rey Celebration. There will be other mistresses there as well and I must not be seen to associate with an inferior connection. Every move you make will be scrutinized so I hope you’re up to date on the current customs and fashions. As you know, they change daily—sometimes hourly—on our lovely world and only the latest fashions and trends will be tolerated.”

“Customs and fashions. Goddess of Judgment, give me strength!” Trin sighed and ran a hand through her long black hair.

“Your body-slave must also be perfectly behaved with only the finest manners. An impressive specimen will be in order so I hope you have procured one.”

“Oh, I think you’ll be impressed, Lady Malroth,” Trin muttered to herself and Thrace couldn’t help grinning. It was good to know she had confidence in his ability to impress the picky Yonnite mistress.

“The Landra-Rey Celebration is being held two days from now at Lady Tam-tams estate, Dreaming Hills, located in the countryside just north of Opulex. I will leave your name at the estate entrance and I hope to see you at the grand reception the first evening. There we can meet and talk and finalize our deal…if everything is acceptable.”

The message ended abruptly with no good-bye. Presumably Lady Malroth was too busy for such trivial courtesies.

“Well, it looks like we have our work cut out for us,” Thrace said, stepping forward.

“Oh!” Trin spun around, one hand to her heart and the remote to the pain collar gripped in the other. Her eyes widened when she saw him.

“Take it easy,” Thrace held out his free hand in a gesture of peace—the other was holding the too-small towel around his waist and he didn’t want to let it go. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“Were you listening to my message?” Trin demanded, her dark eyes flashing.

Thrace nodded, seeing no point in lying.

“I figured it concerned us both.”

She sighed and seemed to lose some of her irritation.

“You’re right about that. I was hoping she’d be willing to grant me a quick, private audience in her own home to do this deal but no—apparently I’ve got to go to some weird celebration or other where my every move will be scrutinized in order to even see her.”

“What kind of celebration is it?” Thrace raised an eyebrow.

She shrugged. “Honestly, I don’t know. The daughters of Zetta Prime are descended from the Yonnie Six mistresses but we stopped following their customs long ago.”

“Except for the one about having nothing to do with males,” Thrace pointed out dryly.

“Except for that,” Trin admitted. “Although even the Yonnites have more dealing with males than we do. They use them for body-slaves—we just prefer to avoid them altogether.”

“Too bad I seem to be unavoidable,” Thrace remarked, smiling at her.

A small smile ghosted across her lips in reply.

“I guess so.” She sighed. “Well, that message was dated from much earlier—it must have come in just as I was leaving for the Demon’s Eye. Which means we really only have a day to get ready and get ourselves back to Yonnie Six and this Landra-Rey Celebration.”

“Guess I’ll have to become the perfect body-slave,” Thrace said thoughtfully. “I’d better not screw this up for you if I don’t want to remain in your service for the rest of my natural life.”

“I’ll have to be the perfect mistress as well.” Trin sighed. “That’s not going to be easy. The Yonnites are so devious and round-about. I prefer straight-forward dealings where you know where you stand.”

“We’re going to be standing in quickmud the entire time and we’ll sink in up to our necks if we don’t keep moving,” Thrace muttered. “With your permission, I’d like to run a few searches on the viewscreen—I need to find out exactly what’s going to be expected of me.”

“Okay, but tomorrow.” Trin yawned and shivered, wrapping her arms around herself. “We’ll start early but right now I’m tired and really cold. I need a hot shower and then I’m going to bed.”

“A hot bath would be better,” Thrace pointed out. “I noticed you have a small bubble tub in there. You should submerge yourself in hot water—it would bring up your core temperature.” Not that it would help that much if she was still having after effects from the passion berries as he suspected. But it couldn’t hurt…

Trin shook her head.

“That sounds great but I’m too tired for a bath right now. Just a quick shower is fine. Um…” She cleared her throat and her eyes flickered down to the towel around his waist. “The storage locker in the corner has extra blankets and pillows and a few items of male clothing left by the mistress who used to own this ship. I think she had a slave that was about your size. Maybe you could find something to fit you.”

“I’ll look,” Thrace said, nodding. He was heartily sick of wearing the tight black leather pants the slavers had forced him into but the flimsy towel he was holding around his waist was hardly a viable alternative. He fervently hoped he might find something both more comfortable and more practical in the storage locker.

“Good.” Trin nodded at him briefly. “Okay, then I’m taking a shower. Good night.”

“Good night…Mistress.” The title still seemed strange to him, especially when he’d sworn to himself never to call her that. But it fit her somehow and Thrace found that the more he said it, the easier it came.

Shaking his head at the strangeness of it, he went to the storage locker she’d indicated and started to look for something new to wear.

Chapter Thirteen

Trin turned over on her side and rolled herself into a ball, pulling her knees in tight to her body. Goddess of Judgment, she was cold! And no matter what she did, she just kept getting colder. She’s already put two extra thermal blankets on and she was wearing thermal socks too. She wished she had some thermal sleepwear but the thin, silky sleep dresses which had so bothered Thrace when she wore them around him were the only nighttime garments she possessed.

Speaking of Thrace, he had apparently found himself a pair of sleep trousers to wear in the old clothes left by The Alacrity’s last owner. He had taken a pillow and a single thin blanket and was lying quietly on the floor at the foot of her bed.

Trin had been relieved to see that he was wearing more than the tiny, thin towel he’d been holding around his waist when he came out of the shower. She’d been seeing him shirtless for days now and she’d even handled his “equipment” when he was chained down and needed help to relieve himself. But back then she’d been thinking of him as just a big, not-too-bright animal.

Now she saw his intelligence and admired his bravery and sense of humor. She was, she realized, beginning to know him as a person and that changed the way she felt about him. Seeing him naked or almost naked made her feel…strange. And the idea of letting him see her in a similar state of undress was also uncomfortable. She’d been glad the room was dark when she came into the sleeping area, her thin robe belted tightly around her to keep from revealing anything. And also glad that his bare, muscular chest was mostly covered by the thin blanket.

Not that she cared for the male form, she told herself. But when he’d come out of the shower and she saw him standing there so tall and massive with the wide planes of his bare chest and broad shoulders beaded with water, her stomach had done a funny little flip. Only because he’s aesthetically pleasing to the eye, she told herself uneasily, remembering it now. With those sculpted abs and his long, muscular legs he’s a damn near perfect specimen. Lady Malroth is certain to be impressed.

But no matter how much she tried to tell herself she was only admiring him in a purely artistic sense, it couldn’t be denied that her stomach had never done that funny little flip when she saw a naked female. Her lack of reaction to others of her sex had led her to believe that she might be mostly asexual. Indeed, though she enjoyed playing with her clitoral stimulator, she never fantasized about other women or anyone else as she did so. She simply enjoyed the pleasurable sensations of the buzzing little vibrator until she reached a gentle orgasm and drifted off to sleep.

So why did she feel so strange when she watched Thrace move around in that tiny, thin towel? Trin had no answer. But the memory of his big, muscular body, nearly naked and beaded with water certainly did something for her. Maybe it was because he was so big or so different from her. He was hard where she was soft and his voice was so deep…it was strange but just the thought of him lying there at the foot of her bed was almost enough to warm her up. Almost.

Trin shivered again.

“Goddess, I’m so cold. What’s wrong with me?” she muttered, burrowing deeper into the covers.

“I’ll tell you what’s wrong with you,” a deep, familiar voice murmured from the darkness.

“What?” Trin sat up, shivering. “Thrace? I thought you were asleep.”

“Nah. I’m just lying here listening to you thrash around trying to get warm. But you’re never going to manage it.”

“What? Why not?” Trin demanded. “And how do you know, anyway?”

“I know because I know about passion berries—they’re native to my home world. You’ve still got some of the residue from that sip of wine you took in your system. The cold you’re feeling is an aftereffect and it’ll probably last for a few hours, if not the rest of the night.”

“The rest of the night?” Trin felt a surge of despair. She needed to sleep so she could wake up fresh and start preparing for the ordeal ahead of her on Yonnie Six. She had no time for lying in bed sleepless and besides, she felt like a block of ice. The cold wasn’t just uncomfortable—it was downright painful. “What can I do about it?” she demanded, pulling the thermal blanket closer—not that it did any good. “Since you know so much about passion berries.”

“Nothing,” he said flatly. “There’s nothing you can do.”

“Well, then what—?”

“But there’s something you can let me do.”

“What do you mean?” Trin felt uneasy.

“You can let me hold you. The passion berry compound demands physical contact to counteract its symptoms. That’s how I was able to warm you up before—by holding you.”

Trin vaguely remembered waking up and finding herself held in the big Havoc’s lap. He’d put her down pretty quickly, however—before she could start feeling too awkward. But now he was asking to get into bed with her and hold her in his arms. It seemed dangerous somehow, and not just because she was worried about having to use the pain collar to keep him in line.

He was silent for a long moment as she thought about it. Did she want to do this? Did she dare? Did she dare to let him climb in her bed and press his big, muscular body against hers? His big, muscular, warm body, whispered a practical little voice in her head. That’s the operative word, Trin. It may be awkward but at least it’s warm.

But what if he tries something? Like the things he was talking about while you had him chained to the cot? a voice in her brain demanded. What are you supposed to do then?

The thought gave her pause. As intriguing as she was beginning to find Thrace and the male form in general, she still had absolutely no wish to be penetrated by a male. Ever.

“If you’re worried, I’ll try something, don’t.” His voice was calm and matter-of-fact in the darkness. “I told you I don’t take females against their will and besides, you’ve got the remote.”

Trin cleared her throat.

“Of course I’m not worried about that,” she lied. “It’s just…I only have on one of my night dresses—the kind you said bothered you so much. I just thought—”

“That I wouldn’t be able to control myself if I felt your body pressed to mine with only a thin little scrap of fabric between us?” He gave a rumbling laugh. “Don’t worry, Mistress, I know my place. And we males aren’t nearly as animalistic as you’ve been led to believe. I can reign myself in.”

“Well…” Trin still hesitated but the cold was spreading and now her teeth were starting to chatter. “A-all r-right,” she said at last. “Come here. But if I ask you to l-leave and go b-back to the floor, I expect instant obedience.”

“Yes, Mistress,” he murmured. And then he was sliding into bed, under the covers beside her and gathering her into his arms.

At first Trin stayed curled in a protective ball with the pain collar remote clutched tightly in one hand and held to her chest. It seemed the most prudent thing to do and besides she felt awkward and uncertain, allowing a male into her bed no matter how valid the reason.

Thrace didn’t seem to care about her awkward pose. He simply gathered her close, wrapping his long arms around her and holding her to his chest. His body heat went to work on her at once and little by little, Trin felt her frozen extremities starting to thaw.

At last he spoke softly in the darkness.

“It would be better if you’d relax a little. If you’d come a little closer I could warm you to the core—that’s what you need.”

Trin did long to feel the delicious heat she felt coursing through her arms and legs warming the rest of her.

“Well…all right,” she said at last. Slowly and carefully, she allowed her body to unknot.

“That’s good,” Thrace murmured. “Now, here…” He drew her close to him, her back to his chest, and wrapped his arms around her in a firm but loose hold that clearly let her know she was free to go at any time. He pressed his legs to the back of her thighs and knees and settled her securely against him, so that her head was resting on his muscular bicep. “How’s that?” he murmured.

Trin hardly knew how to answer. The sensation of being held by the huge Havoc was both odd and comforting at the same time. She felt completely surrounded by him—cradled and protected by his big body. It reminded her of being a very young child because that was the last time in her life she’d been small enough for another person to so completely surround and cradle her.

It was a little scary to feel so tiny and vulnerable in the arms of a male she knew could break her in half with one hand. And yet…she didn’t feel threatened by Thrace. Not at all. She somehow knew he would use his strength to protect her, not to hurt her.

Of course, all that was much too complicated to say in answer to his question.

“This is nice,” she said at last. “Warm…or warmer, I suppose. My face is still cold though. Those damn passion berries are awful—the tip of my nose is like ice.”

“That’s easy to fix.” Before she could protest, he flipped her over so they were face to face—or face to chest, in this case since he was so big—and pulled her close again.

Trin started to protest but the heat radiating from his big body was immediately addictive. It felt like she’d been standing in the doorway with her face in a cold wind and someone had suddenly turned her towards a roaring fire. Now her frozen skin was beginning to thaw and she found she lacked the will power to tell him to stop and let her go at once.

Just a minute or two, she told herself. I’ll just lay like this a minute or two and then once I’m completely warm I’ll send him back to his place on the floor.

Feeling better about the situation now that she had imposed a time limit, Trin snuggled closer. She took a deep breath and the Havoc’s warmth surrounded her—he seemed to radiate heat like a furnace. And along with the heat, came his warm, spicy scent.

Trin breathed it in—it was rich and dark with hints of leather and some kind of musk she didn’t recognize. There was something about it…something other. A primal, masculine fragrance she’d never encountered until she met Thrace. Maybe it was hormonal in some way or maybe it was just a Havoc thing but for whatever reason, it smelled damn good. Trin found herself inhaling it eagerly, even pressing her face to his chest to get closer to the source.

At the same time, the rest of her was getting closer too. Her breasts, bare beneath the thin silky night dress, were pressed shamelessly to his hard abs and somehow her arms had slipped around his trim waist, the remote clasped loosely in one hand. Her pelvis was pressed to his and their legs had become entwined so that one of his long thighs was between hers.

Though she had never been this close to a male before, this somehow seemed perfectly all right to Trin. After a moment, though, she realized that something long and hard was branding her hip through her night dress and the thin fabric of Thrace’s sleep trousers.

What’s that? At first her mind could make no sense of it. She was too busy enjoying the sensation of warmth and closeness. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d allowed herself to cuddle with another person this way. There had been a few times when she was in the piloting academy when she had paired off with a classmate but they were all female and the female form, though beautiful, did not attract her. She had found early on that it did nothing for her sexually to have the soft, small frame of another female pressed against her own.

On the other hand, having Thrace’s big, hard body surrounding her own made her tingle everywhere in a most disturbing way.

The big Havoc shifted restlessly and the hard ridge of flesh poked her hip again. Trin frowned. Something long and hard between his thighs, pressing against me…what…? This time her brain made the connection.

“Oh!” She jumped back from him at once, putting a foot of space between them.

“What’s wrong?” His voice seemed slightly hoarse, although it was hard to tell since it was already so deep.

“You…your…” Trin didn’t know what to call it. “Your male equipment is poking me.”

“Yeah, well…” His shoulder lifted in a kind of half shrug which she could barely make out in the dim light from the floor glows. “It’s to be expected.”

“Expected? What are you talking about?” Trin demanded. She felt upset… betrayed. “You told me you could control yourself!”

“I am controlling myself,” he growled. “I’m holding a beautiful, half naked female in my arms and I’m not doing a damn thing but lying here. Believe me, that takes a hell of a lot of control.”

“But…your equipment…”

“My shaft gets hard when I’m aroused—it’s automatic. I can’t stop it.” He shrugged again. “Sorry—there are limits to what I can control, even for you, Mistress.”

“So…you’re admitting you’re aroused?” Trin didn’t know how to feel about that.

“I can’t help it,” Thrace rumbled. “You’re fucking gorgeous and you smell incredible. What can I say? Holding you makes me hard.”

“If you knew that holding me would make you…feel that way, then why did you offer to do it in the first place?” Trin demanded. “Was it just to…to get off?”

“Have I grabbed you in any way?” he demanded, sounding offended. “Have I cupped your breasts or put my hand between your thighs to feel your soft little pussy?”

“Well…” Trin could feel her cheeks getting hot. “No,” she admitted at last.

“If you’re thinking I wanted to cop a cheap feel, you’re wrong,” Thrace said flatly. “I could’ve just gone to sleep and let you freeze all night long but I didn’t want to do that because I feel—” He shook his head. “Never mind.”

“No, go on,” Trin said softly. “What do you feel?”

“I feel protective of you.” He sighed. “I realize you might not want to hear that since your people don’t feel like they need a male to protect them in any way but I can’t help it. Ever since the Demon’s Eye, I just feel the need to look out for you. To keep you safe, no matter what.”

“Well…” Trin didn’t know whether to be offended or touched. It was irritating that he felt like he had to look after her. One moment of weakness in the Demon’s Eye didn’t mean she wasn’t perfectly capable of looking after herself. On the other hand, it was kind of nice too.

“Well…?” he echoed and she knew he was waiting for her verdict.

“I guess that means you’ll make an excellent body-slave,” Trin said at last. “I have heard a few of the mistresses of Yonnie Six say that the best body-slaves are bound to their mistresses by true bonds of affection, not just the imminent threat of the pain collar.”

“Is that what they say?” he rumbled. “Bonds of affection, hmm?”

“Y-yes…” Trin’s teeth chattered as she tried to speak. They’d been apart for too long—the cold was creeping back into her bones and she was beginning to shiver again. Thrace seemed to recognize her problem at once.

“Come here.” He reached for her in the darkness but Trin resisted.

“W-wait. What about—?”

“I’ll keep my hips angled back so I don’t touch you,” he promised. “Just let me warm you up again so you don’t freeze. It takes a long time for the passion berry’s effects to completely leave your system.”

Reluctantly, Trin allowed him to draw her into his arms once more. It was like being held by warm, flexible steel bands. Almost immediately, her shivering stopped as his body heat seemed to penetrate her skin. Thrace kept his hips well back so that only the top parts of their bodies touched this time and after a little while, Trin found herself relaxing again.

“Mmm, this is nice,” she admitted, pressing her cold cheek to his chest. “You’re so warm.”

“Glad to be of service, Mistress,” he said, his deep voice slightly sarcastic in the gloom. “Just doing my best to be the perfect body-slave.”

“You are acting like a good body-slave would,” Trin said earnestly. “And I don’t want you to think I’m ungrateful. I know you could’ve let me freeze and ignored my pain and you didn’t. It’s just…I’m not that used to male anatomy and you…startled me.”

“You didn’t seem to have a problem with it when you had me chained down,” he pointed out.

“Yes, but back then I thought of you as a pet—like my stallion, Swift,” she admitted. “I was just helping you. And you never…er, got hard until that last time.”

“If you’ve got a big, male animal as a pet back home then you’ve certainly seen a hard shaft before,” he rumbled.

“Yes, but not directed at me,” Trin said. “Not because of me.”

He sighed. “Sorry about that. Like I said, it’s an automatic response. The same way your pussy gets wet and your nipples get hard when you’re with another female you like.”

“I don’t…” Trin cleared her throat, embarrassed by his frank words. “I don’t have that kind of reaction to other females.”

“But I thought that females from Zetta Prime always mated with each other and since there are no males—”

“You’re right—they do. And a mating between two females can be a beautiful and fulfilling thing,” Trin said. “I’ve always wished I could have that,” she admitted in a low voice. “But I just can’t…can’t seem to feel that way for another female. I’ve tried but it never works and that’s not fair to the other girl. Women want a loving commitment and all I could ever offer was friendship. So I decided to keep to myself—it’s better that way. Easier.”

“And it never occurred to you to even try with a male since you’re clearly not wired to love the company of your own sex?” Thrace sounded incredulous.

“Why would it?” Trin demanded. “You know what my people think of males—the misconceptions they have. Why, I bet not one female in a hundred back home would believe me if I told them you were able to carry on an intelligent and thoughtful conversation like this. They’d as soon believe that I taught my pet stallion, Swift to talk.”

“Huh.” He grunted thoughtfully. “I guess that makes sense then. You wouldn’t want to form a relationship with a creature you considered no better than an animal.”

“That’s what the other daughters of Zetta Prime would think—not what I think,” Trin protested. “Not anymore. You’re not what I was taught to expect, Thrace. You’re intelligent…interesting…protective…different.”

“Glad you find me so entertaining,” he murmured dryly but there was a trace of humor in his voice.

“I didn’t mean it that way and you know it.” Trin sighed. “But it’s not just the misconceptions that stopped me—having a sexual relationship with a male is actually against my religion—well, the religion I was raised in, anyway.”

“Your religion?” Thrace sounded incredulous. “Forgive me but you don’t strike me as the religious type. And I thought your people worshiped the Goddess. The same one the Kindred revere?”

“We do worship a Goddess—the Goddess of Judgment,” Trin said. “I don’t know if our beliefs coincide with the Kindred—I doubt it. Our belief is that the Goddess wanted us to leave Yonnie Six because of all the sexual depravity going on between the mistresses and their male body-slaves and eschew contact with males as much as possible. That’s why we broke off from them in the first place and moved to a whole other planet.”

“So why did you go looking to buy a male body-slave then if you’re so devout?” he asked.

“I didn’t go looking to buy a male to…to penetrate me,” Trin pointed out. “I simply needed one as a prop, so I could trade with the entitled, snobbish mistresses of Yonnie Six.”

“So you truly believe it’s some kind of mortal sin to let a male penetrate you?” he rumbled. “You think this Goddess of yours is looking down on you, ready to blast you if you let that happen?”

Trin felt her cheeks get hot but she tried to speak lightly.

“Not blast me, exactly, but I would certainly be damned to the Hell of Defiled Women. But that’s not the only reason I wouldn’t let a male do that to me—only a weak or pathetic woman would allow such a thing.”

“That’s pretty much what males of my race feel too,” Thrace admitted. “Allowing yourself to be penetrated is the…” He swallowed hard and for a moment is seemed as though he was having trouble getting the words out. “The ultimate sign of failure. The final loss of dignity and pride. When you submit to such a thing…you’re no longer a male of worth.”

“Exactly,” Trin exclaimed. “But it’s even more than that with us. It’s considered depraved and disgusting…only a few steps up from bestiality.”

“Huh,” he grunted. “Your people really don’t think much of males.”

Trin shrugged. “Most of them don’t know any males—except for the body-slaves they see occasionally if they visit Yonnie Six. And those sad, cringing creatures are hardly an accurate representation of your sex.”

“So what do you believe about it?” he probed, his voice soft and questioning.

Trin lifted her chin. “Well, I’m not as religious as my mother but I still have way too much self respect to allow my body to be…to be used in that fashion. It’s low and vulgar and degrading. I won’t cheapen myself by allowing anyone or anything to penetrate me. In fact…” She hesitated for a moment and then decided to tell him. “In fact, I’m one of the Unpenetrated.”

“The who?”

“It’s a vow you take on Zetta Prime when you decide that you don’t want to join with anyone. You stand before the priestess of the Goddess of Judgment and swear that no one and nothing shall ever enter you…your sex, I mean.” Her cheeks were getting hot again. “I took my vows five years ago and I’ve always adhered to them. I’m very proud of that.”

“I see,” he murmured neutrally. “So it is a religious issue.”

“More of a pride thing,” Trin said. “What about you—have you ever allowed yourself to be penetrated…down there?”

He gave a harsh laugh. “I told you what my people feel about it…that it makes you less of a male, that it negates your self worth. Do you think I would willingly allow such a thing?”

“So it’s a pride thing for you too,” she challenged.

“Exactly. And yet, as proud as we both are, I don’t see you being too proud to snuggle up with a male to get warm,” he pointed out.

“That’s different,” Trin said, trying to make herself believe it. “There’s nothing sexual about this…well, not for me. And even if there was, it’s not like I’d let you actually—”

“I know you wouldn’t. I wouldn’t try it,” Thrace murmured. “I get it, Mistress—you’re off limits.”

“I wasn’t trying to say that exactly, I was just letting you know what I believe…how I was raised…Oh, Hell.” Trin sighed unhappily. “Now I’ve offended you. I’m sorry.”

“Not offended, exactly…” He sighed also and shifted on the bed. “Just confirmed what I already knew, that’s all.”

“I’m sorry,” Trin said again. “Look, maybe I should just scoot over and let you be.” She started to scoot to the far side of the bed but Thrace stopped her.

“You think I’ll let you freeze all night just because of what you said?” he demanded. “I’m not that vindictive. And considering that most of your people wouldn’t give a damn whether they offended a lowly male or not, I’m willing to forgive you.”

“Thank you,” Trin said a little stiffly. “I just want us to know where we stand.”

“Don’t you mean where we lay?” he rumbled, a half laugh in his deep voice.

“Exactly.” Feeling better now that they’d clarified things, Trin snuggled closer to his warmth. The top half of her was toasty warm but her hips and legs and feet were beginning to be cold again. She shifted, trying to get a little closer and felt something hard brush her thigh again. “Oh!” She drew back a little, though not as much as before.

“Sorry,” he said roughly. “I’m trying to keep back.”

“No…it’s all right.” Trin bit her lip. “I’m just…the bottom half of me is getting really cold.”

“Well, you can come closer if you want but I can’t promise not to have a hard-on,” Thrace rumbled. “Just because lying here holding you isn’t sexual for you doesn’t mean it’s not for me. You’re too beautiful and too close. I can’t fucking help it.”

“What if I put my back to you again?” Trin turned over on her other side. Somehow it seemed safer that way—though she couldn’t say why.

“Works for me.” He pulled her to him, nestling her into the curve of his big, hard body.

Trin settled back against him, feeling the planes of his flat chest against her back, his long legs against the backs of her thighs…and the hard ridge of his shaft pressing directly against her ass.

It felt odd at first and she wiggled, trying to get more comfortable. This elicited a low groan from Thrace. She stopped at once.

“Did I hurt you? I was just trying to get settled.”

“No, you didn’t hurt me. Not in the way you mean, anyway.” His voice had that slightly strangled quality to it again.

“How then? Does it hurt when I, uh, touch it?” Trin asked.

“Does it hurt when you touch your pussy?” he asked roughly. “Hell no, it doesn’t hurt. It just feels so good it’s a little bit painful…if that makes any sense.”

“Not really,” Trin said doubtfully. “I’ve never felt a pleasure that was so good it was painful.”

“Then you’ve never been pleasured properly,” he murmured. “Never had a partner who knows exactly how and where to touch your body to make you moan and gasp for more. Who knows how to make you beg them to stop and to never stop in the same breath.”

“I…don’t know what you mean,” Trin murmured but his words made her feel strange inside—things low in her body seemed to clench.

“I know you don’t, baby. Sorry…Mistress,” he corrected himself. “I can’t really explain it if you’ve never felt it. Unless you want me to show you what I mean?”

“If you mean by touching me, that wouldn’t be right and you know it,” Trin murmured, her heart racing. “But…” She cleared her throat, knowing she should stop but not quite being able to. “But you can tell me. Tell me what you would show me if you could.”

“You want me to talk dirty to you, Mistress?” His voice was a low growl. “Is that it? Because I’ll be more than happy to do that if you want.”

“I…don’t know about that,” Trin hedged. She felt a little guilty about the situation she was in but honestly, it wasn’t like he was doing anything but holding her…and talking. Surely there couldn’t be any harm in that—could there? “Just tell me what you’d do if…if it wasn’t improper,” she said.

“Mmm, with pleasure.” He settled her closer against him. “Well, the first thing I’d do is pull off that thin little night dress of yours so I could feel your naked body against me, skin-to-skin,” he murmured, low in her ear. “Then I’d cup these sweet, luscious breasts in my hands and tease your nipples nice and slow.” As he spoke, one large hand drifted over the front of her night dress, his fingertips just barely brushing the aching peaks of her nipples as if in illustration.

Trin bit her lip and tightened her grip on the remote, which she was still holding in one hand. But his touch was so light, so fleeting, she felt she could hardly complain. Instead of pressing the pain button on the remote she whispered, “Go on.”

“Then I’d roll you over on your back and take my time sucking and kissing your nipples,” he murmured. “I’d nip you…very lightly, then kiss them to take away the sting. Then suck as much of your ripe breasts into my mouth as I could—suck hard—to let you know how much I want you.”

“You…you would?” Trin whispered rather breathlessly.

“Hell, yes I would,” he murmured. “And I wouldn’t stop there. After I sucked your ripe nipples a good long time, I’d start working my way down your chest and belly until I got to the sweet spot—right between your thighs.”

His big hand brushed lightly across her mound, making her jump and bite back a moan.

“And then?” Trin managed to ask. She knew the mental images he was painting with his deep, growling voice shouldn’t be turning her on. But somehow, even though she knew it wasn’t proper to be sexually stimulated by a male, she was. In fact, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt this hot and bothered. Her nipples were aching at the tips of her breasts and her pussy felt hot and swollen and positively liquid with desire.

“Then I’d spread your thighs and taste you,” he murmured in her ear. “Have you ever been tasted before, Trin? Back when you were trying to see if you liked it with other females?”

“No, we…” Trin cleared her throat. “No, I never got that far.”

“Then I would be your first.” There was a definite note of interest in his low, growling voice. “So I’d have to be gentle…ease you into it.”

“Into what?” Trin knew it was wrong to want to hear more and yet she couldn’t help it—she wanted to hear more. No, scratch that—she needed to hear more.

“Into having your pussy licked,” Thrace murmured. He pulled her even closer against him so that she could feel the long, hard ridge of his shaft nestling right between her buttocks. “I’d kiss you first,” he went on, before she could say anything. “Kiss you like I was kissing your mouth—long and soft and sweet to warm you up and get you ready. Then when you were moaning and sliding your hips all around the bed, I’d spread you open and taste all your sweet juices.”

“Oh…I mean, you would?” Trin was getting so hot now she could barely stand it. The desire growing between her legs was getting to be too much. She felt like she had to do something to relieve it soon or she would explode.

“You know I would,” Thrace told her. “I’d love to spread your pussy open and kiss and lick and taste you.”

“Oh!” Trin wiggled against him, feeling helplessly hot as the thick rod of his shaft poked her from behind. “I think…I wish…”

“You wish what?” he growled softly.

“I wish I had my clitoral stimulator, but no…” She bit her lip. What had she been thinking, saying such a thing aloud? But Thrace seemed to understand and approve of her need.

“You don’t need a stimulator, baby,” he murmured. “Just use your fingers. I’d offer to do it myself but I know you think it wouldn’t be ‘proper.’”

“Touching myself while you talk to me wouldn’t be proper either,” Trin pointed out, breathing hard.

“It might not be proper but making yourself come might get rid of the last of the passion berry wine,” Thrace told her. “It would sure as hell help, anyway.”

“It would?” Suddenly Trin began to see things in a new light.

“Uh-huh—flush it right out of your system,” he promised. “So go ahead baby, touch yourself. There’s only the two of us here, alone in the dark. Who cares if it’s proper?”

Honestly, nothing she was saying or doing right now would be considered proper behavior for a respected daughter of Zetta Prime, especially one of the Unpenetrated, but Trin couldn’t help it. Thrace’s warm scent all around her and his big, hard body pressed to her back seemed to do things to her…things that had never been done by anyone until now. Besides, maybe this would finally get rid of the lingering effects of the passion berries. That seemed like a good, valid reason for doing as he suggested. At least, she thought so.

“All right,” she whispered at last. Almost without thinking about it, she allowed the hand holding the remote to relax and let it go. Then she slipped her fingers down between her thighs and cupped her mound. “Tell me more,” she whispered.

“First tell me if you’re touching yourself,” Thrace rumbled. “Tell me if you’re spreading open your soft little pussy and petting your sweet, wet inner cunt.”

“Y-yes,” Trin stammered as her fingers found their way between her swollen pussy lips. “Yes, I am.”

“And does it feel good, baby?” he murmured in her ear. “Are you stroking your sweet little clit? Are you imagining me between your thighs licking you there? Running my tongue all over your pussy?”

“I…I am now,” Trin confessed. Dear Goddess, what was she doing? There was a little voice far back in her head now screaming that this was wrong, that no matter how badly she needed to get warm this was not the way to go about it but Trin couldn’t seem to make herself care or listen to the shrill little pest.

“That’s good,” Thrace growled softly. “Spread your pussy wide and imagine it’s me. Imagine I’m tasting you there, tracing your clit with my tongue, licking up your sweet juices.”

“How…how do you know they’d be sweet?” Trin could barely talk. Her fingers flew between her legs, stroking lightly around her clit as she pictured the acts he was describing. What would it feel like to have the big Havoc’s tongue between her legs, his broad shoulders splitting her wide as he tasted her the way he seemed so desperately to want to do?

“I know it’d be sweet because of your scent,” Thrace growled. “I can tell how hot and wet you’re getting just by sniffing the air. And that warm, sweet perfume your pussy puts out when you’re hot is so fucking delicious I could come just from scenting it.”

Trin didn’t know what to say to that. But her fingers kept flying between her thighs and her pleasure was close—she was right on the edge and about to jump off. Thrace seemed to sense that somehow.

“Are you close, baby?” he murmured in her ear. “Close to coming for me?

“Y-yes,” Trin couldn’t help admitting. “I am close. So close…”

“Good.” Thrace pulled her even closer and nuzzled his face into the side of her neck. “Because I want to hold you while you lose control—want to feel you quiver against me. Even if I can’t be the one to make you come, I want to feel it.”

“I am,” Trin gasped as her pleasure suddenly peaked. “I can’t help it…I…I’m coming.”

And then the pleasure was washing over her, overwhelming her as, for the first time in her life, she allowed herself to orgasm with another person.

Thrace held her tight as she shook and moaned helplessly, her fingers thrust between her thighs as she rode out the aftershocks of the intense orgasm. Then, slowly, she began to come back to herself.

“Oh my Goddess,” she whispered shakily. “This is wrong. What am I doing?”

“Just helping yourself a little,” Thrace rumbled reassuringly. “There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“A lot of people would disagree with you,” Trin said tartly. “The priestesses at my old temple to start with.” The only good thing about the shameful thing she’d done was that she now appeared to be completely warm. She pulled away from Trace and took a deep breath. “Maybe…maybe you should go back to your place,” she said. She tried to make her voice hard and frosty but it came out shaky instead.

“Maybe I should. But first…” Reaching around her, he grasped her forearm and pulled her hand out from beneath the thermal blankets.

Trin gasped with embarrassment as she saw her juices gleaming in the faint light from the floor glows which stayed on in the corners to prevent midnight accidents.

“What are you doing?” she demanded.

“Cleaning you up, Mistress.” Slowly he slipped her two fingers between his lips and sucked them into his hot mouth. He licked them both, cleaning away her honey and holding her eyes with his own as he did so.

Trin stared at him uncertainly as her stomach did a slow flip-flop and she felt another surge of wetness between her legs. Goddess, what was he doing to her and how was he doing it? How could he affect her so strongly when he was a male?

“Just as I thought,” he murmured when he finally released her fingers. “Delicious. Wish I could lick your sweet pussy clean the same way.”

“Thrace!” she exclaimed, her cheeks burning. “You know that wouldn’t be right!”

“Maybe not but it would be fucking hot.” His eyes burned. “Good night, Mistress.” He gave her a slow smile she could see even in the dim room. Then he slipped out of her bed and went to lie on the floor where he had started the night.

Heart pounding, Trin looked at her freshly cleaned fingers, feeling a strange mixture of shame and desire. She’d never had such a strong reaction to anyone, male or female, in her life. What had he done to her and how had he done it?

Well, whatever he did, it can’t happen again, she told herself sternly. From now on I must be in complete and total control of myself.

With that promise to herself, she rolled over and tried to get to sleep. But even though she was now warm through and through, sleep was a long time coming.

Chapter Fourteen

Trin made a small noise in her sleep and rolled over.

Thrace looked up from his chair in front of the viewscreen and cast a glance in her direction. Was she waking up? It was about time—they were about to enter Yonnie Six airspace in an hour, as the navigator had called to say. Thrace hated to wake her up from her slumber but it was time they got up and started getting ready to go.

“Mmmph.” She rolled over again.

Thrace bookmarked the search he’d been doing on the duties of a body-slave on Yonnie Six and the Landra-Rey Celebration in particular and went to her bedside.

“Mistress?” he murmured. “Miss—”

The words died on his lips as Trin, apparently a very restless sleeper, rolled over again. The motion pushed the blankets down around her thighs and revealed that the thin nightdress she wore was pushed up around her waist. The tiny pair of panties she wore was riding high. The thin crotch had slipped up between her plump pussy lips and the top of her dress was stretched tight across her full breasts and berry dark nipples.

Gods! Thrace knew he shouldn’t look—it was disrespectful and wrong. But he couldn’t tear his eyes away from her creamy brown skin and her full curves. She was like no female he had ever seen before and he longed to stroke all her exposed flesh and make her moan and come as she had last night.

Of course, last night was about the passion berry residue, he reminded himself. Trin was doubtless never going to want to repeat it…which was why she was going to be very unhappy about some of the things his viewscreen searches had turned up.

She was a strange mixture, he reflected. On one hand she was a self assured female, the captain of a star ship and a very competent leader. On the other, she was a virgin, having never actually been with anyone, even one of her own sex as was usual for her people. And she still seemed completely tied to the ideas she’d grown up with which was going to be a problem in the near future unless he was very much mistaken.

“Mistress?” he said again and cleared his throat.

“What?” Trin’s eyes flew open and she looked up at him and then down at herself. “What…what’s going on?” She began trying to straighten her night dress hastily. “I had the strangest dreams.”

“What did you dream, Mistress?” Thrace averted his eyes pointedly though he wanted nothing more than to keep drinking her in.

“That I was cold and you held me to warm me up and then I…I…” She stopped fighting with her twisted dress and put a hand to her mouth. “Oh my Goddess, that was no dream, was it?”

“Afraid not,” Thrace said.

“I can’t believe I did those things.”

From the corner of his eye, Thrace saw that his new mistress looked really upset.

“You had to,” he said quickly. “It was the only way to finally rid yourself completely of the passion berry residue. If you hadn’t, you might still be having problems with it.”

“Then…why didn’t you tell me to do that in the first place instead of offering to hold me?” she demanded.

“Right,” Thrace said flatly. “You think you would have listened to me if I suggested out of the blue that you touch yourself until you came? Besides, you were freezing to start with—frostbite and sexual arousal don’t usually go hand in hand. I had to warm you up first before you could let yourself go there.”

“I guess. But…I let you hold me and talk to me that way and you’re a male.” She still looked upset. “And the things you said to me…”

“Were all true.” Thrace sat on the bed beside her. “But I only said them—I didn’t act on them. You remain pure—you’re still one of the Unpenetrated.”

“Yes, I suppose so.” Trin still looked troubled. “I’m just thinking about what everyone back home on Zetta Prime would think if they knew. What they would say in the temple of the Goddess of Judgment if it was known that I—”

“They don’t have to know,” Thrace told her. “And you shouldn’t worry about them or what they think or believe. Outdated beliefs are not going to get those crystals sold and make you solvent again.”

“I suppose not.” Trin took a deep breath and threw back her shoulders—a distracting move that thrust her full breasts out. Thrace tried hard not to notice but her berry dark nipples made his mouth water to taste them. “You’re right—I’ll be fine,” she said resolutely.

“I know I’m right,” he said roughly. “And you’re going to have to keep it in mind the whole time we’re on Yonnie Six at this damn celebration. Otherwise we’re not going to make it.”

“Make it? What do you mean?” She frowned.

Thrace took a deep breath. “Gods, how do I say this? Remember how I asked you what the Landra-Rey Celebration is all about and you said you had no idea?”

“Yes? So?” She shrugged. “It probably has to do with the phases of one of Yonnie Six’s moons or a new fashion emerging or something like that.”

“Wrong.” Thrace shook his head. “It’s none of those things.”

“And you know this how, exactly?” She put a hand on her hip.

“Because I’ve been doing searches while you were sleeping. Look.”

He went to the viewscreen and pulled up one of his bookmarked searches. An elegant female in an old fashioned opaque lace dress and long, curling hair appeared on the viewscreen. Thrace pointed at her.

“Mistress Landra—one of the first females to subdue a male to her service. Before that, the Yonnites eschewed all contact with males, much as your people on Zetta Prime do. But Mistress Landra started a trend—one that became a way of life when she took herself a body-slave.”

“Why did she do it? Why did she decide she wanted a male?” Trin sounded puzzled.

“Don’t know.” Thrace shrugged. “The site doesn’t go into that. But apparently she and her body-slave, Rey, were the ones who first laid the foundation of the mistress and slave relationship on Yonnie Six which used to be much more equal than it is now. The celebration is to commemorate what they started and highlight the ways a body-slave must serve his mistress.”

“Really? They have a whole celebration for that?” Trin frowned at the viewscreen. “Weird.”

“Well, not just the relationship between them,” Thrace said dryly. “There’s also the fact that he gave his life for hers when they were attacked by space pirates.”

“He did? Why would he do that? Didn’t he hate being her slave?”

“I don’t hate being yours,” Thrace remarked, looking at her.

“And you’ve already risked your life for me,” Trin murmured, her eyes flicking over to his and away again quickly.

“You risked a lot for me too,” Thrace reminded her. “We make a good team.”

“So…maybe this celebration won’t be too difficult.” She sounded so hopeful he hated to burst her bubble. But she had to know what was coming before they took a pod down to Yonnie Six.

“Well…” Thrace cleared his throat. “That really depends on you.”

“How do you mean?”

“The celebration can be rather…graphic in nature.”

“Graphic?” She raised an eyebrow at him. “Graphic how?”

Thrace sighed. Might as well get it over with.

“As in, a body-slave on Yonnie Six is expected to do much more for his mistress than simply guard her body. Listen…” He switched over to another site he’d bookmarked and read aloud. “A proper body-slave must be all things to his mistress. He must guard and protect her with his own life, if necessary but that is only the beginning of his duties. He must also groom her—wash her hair, bathe her, soften her skin with lotion or oil and massage her sore or tired muscles to be certain she is well rested. In addition, he must dress her, wait on her, anticipate her every need and tend to her sexual desires so that she is never wanting or in need.” He looked up at Trin and raised an eyebrow. “Beginning to get the picture?”

“All right.” She nodded, seemingly taking all this in stride. “I’ve been in Yonnite high society before—I know that some mistresses use their body-slaves in a sexual capacity. And we can certainly pretend that we do that.”

“We may have to do more than pretend,” Thrace pointed out. “Especially if we’re on display with a bunch of Yonnie mistresses who are hyper-alert for any wrong behavior. Some of the things I’m supposed to do in order to serve you—”

“We’ll pretend,” Trin said firmly. “Just because we’re going among all the decadent, sexually depraved Yonnites doesn’t mean I have to turn into one of them.” She looked at him. “I promised you I wouldn’t use you for sexual purposes and I meant it, Thrace.”

Thrace sighed. Like he would mind if she did want to use him for such purposes. After holding her soft, sweet body in his arms while she gasped and cried and came the night before, he would be willing to do almost anything for her. But he knew she was off limits. Might as well stop fantasizing, he told himself roughly. She’s never going to let you in. She’s the mistress, you’re the slave. And even if you weren’t, being with a male is against her fucking religion—she’s one of the Unpenetrated. There’s no way it’s ever going to happen.

“As you wish, Mistress,” he said formally. “Then may I suggest that we get you dressed in some of the latest Yonnite fashions? I synthesized a few from the searches I did on the viewscreen while you were asleep.”

“You did?” She sounded surprised. “Forgive me, Thrace, but you don’t seem like the kind of male to care much about women’s fashions.”

“No, but the Yonnites care,” he growled. “Part of my job as your slave is to make sure you’re well dressed and presentable at all times. I take that seriously.” Not to mention he’d enjoyed picking a few of the more interesting gowns he’d found for her to wear.

“All right.” Trin sighed. “Let’s see what we’ve got. Time to get dressed up and go meet Lady Malroth.”

Chapter Fifteen

“I don’t like this outfit,” Trin muttered for perhaps the fortieth time as she walked carefully down the colorful gemstone path to Lady Tam-tam’s estate in the sky-high shoes Thrace had synthesized for her on the Sym-printer. It was an expensive machine that Trin had invested in on the off chance she ever found herself stuck in deep space needing a spare part for the ship. In such a dire emergency, it could save her life and the lives of her crew by simply printing out a replacement part. But somehow the big Havoc had found a way to make it print dresses and shoes as well as a new outfit for himself—which covered considerably more than hers did, she noted resentfully.

Her dress was beautiful but bizarre—a buttery yellow satin affair that went well with her light brown skin tones. Trin had no problem with the color—it was the cut that bothered her.

The top of the dress went all the way up to her the throat almost like a choker and ended right under her ears. But despite the severe top, the gown wasn’t modest at all—there was a triangular opening cut in the butter yellow satin which framed her breasts.

A panel of lighter yellow lace stretched across it but it was thin—nearly see-through. The curves of her breasts and the tight points of her nipples were clearly visible, pressing against the soft lace as though they were trying to escape. In fact, they actually were. Trin had already had some trouble with the top panel trying to pull free of its moorings. It was stretched too tightly across her full breasts and threatening to come loose at any time.

Below, the dress wasn’t much better. Though it fell modestly to her ankles, there was a similar triangle framing her pelvis with another panel of thin lace that did little or nothing to hide her sex.

Perhaps most troubling of all, both panels of lace were detachable—for what reason Trin didn’t want to imagine. She had wanted to synthesize some suitable undergarments to go beneath the ludicrous dress but apparently they weren’t in fashion at the moment. So here she was, on display and tottering down the gemmed pathway to the Lady Tam-tam’s estate feeling as naked as if she had no clothing on at all.

“You don’t have to like the damn outfit,” Thrace growled under his breath from his place behind her. “You just have to wear it.”

He himself was wearing only his black and silver studded pain collar with a leash and a pair of black leather trousers. But they were not the same ones he’d had on when she bought him. These trousers covered only his thighs and lower legs—the crotch and ass area were completely missing. However, there was a sort of silky black loin cloth that he wore belted around his lean waist which mercifully covered both areas. But even with that cover, he was going to look obscene if he got…aroused—which he had when Trin had first come out of the fresher in the ridiculous dress.

“Gods,” he’d muttered, looking her over as she smoothed down the dress nervously. “Fucking gorgeous.”

“It’s ridiculous.” Trin had been irritated to feel her cheeks heating under his scrutiny. She’d never had anyone look at her the way the big Havoc did—as though she was a luscious piece of fruit and he was dying to take a bite. “Stop staring if the dress is giving you a…a problem.” She motioned at the tent rising under the black loincloth at his waist.

“It’s not the dress—it’s what’s inside it,” Thrace had growled. But he had dragged his eyes away and continued packing her things, which he had miniaturized and now carried in a small black case at his side.

Trin was carrying a small yellow bag that matched her dress and contained the remote to his pain collar. She also held the end of his leash—which she had objected to.

“The collar is enough,” she’d pointed out.

“Not in Yonnite high society it’s not,” Thrace had said. “They like to dominate their males hard. You’re going to have to do the same if you want to fit in.” He grinned at her. “Treat me like dirt, Mistress—that’s what they’ll be expecting.”

“But I don’t want to do that! And I don’t see how you can suggest it,” Trin had protested. “How could you stand it if I treated you like that?”

“I can stand it because I know you don’t want to do it—that you don’t mean it.” Thrace had looked at her seriously. “Look, let’s just do what we have to in order to sell the crystals.”

“All right.” Trin had nodded reluctantly. “I understand. I know you want to get this over and done with as much as I do so you can be free again. But Thrace, you really don’t have to do this. If you want to leave I’ll take the pain collar off and drop you at the nearest station or anywhere you want.”

“I don’t want to leave—I’m fucking well going to see this through,” he’d growled. “So do what you have to do and don’t worry about me—I’ve been through worse.”

His eyes shifted away as he spoke and it was on the tip of her tongue to ask what he meant. When had he been through worse and what were the details? If her first guess about him had been correct, she might have assumed he was talking about his treatment at the hands of his old master or mistress. But they’d established that wasn’t true. He had never been a slave—he’d been off freedom fighting to keep the Lud’oms from taking over his home planet. So what was he talking about?

Somehow Trin had managed to stifle the question. There was a foreboding look in the big Havoc’s piercing eyes that told her he wasn’t ready to talk about that time in his life. Besides a few dark, cryptic hints, his past was sealed. And since they were going to part ways as soon as they did this deal with lady Malroth, she would probably never find out…

“At least the scenery is pretty,” she remarked, looking around as they walked down the winding gemstone path. Despite the path’s shiny rainbow appearance, the rest of the park grounds were surprisingly unmanicured. Long, slender trees without leaves raised their naked branches to the sky and there were clumps of itch-grass growing at intervals between them. The estate was set in the foothills of a large range of rusty reddish-brown mountains with the mansion in the middle perched on the first gentle slope that led up the steep face of the nearest peak.

Trin liked the natural, wild look of the parklands surrounding the big rambling white and brown house. It reminded her a little of the pastures where she let Swift and Silk out to run. She wondered briefly if Lady Tam-tam kept any kind of domestic animals for riding here. It had been a long time since she’d been on horseback and she would welcome the chance to go out galloping—on whatever mount she could find.

“Look sharp—we have company,” Thrace hissed from behind her.

Trin dragged her eyes from the lovely rustic scenery and saw Lady Malroth tottering down the path towards them. Her heels were even higher that Trin’s, if that was possible, and her hair was definitely higher. It was twisted up into a fantastical pink swirl that towered three feet above her head at least and matched her bright pink dress. Behind her walked a broad shouldered, muscular slave who was quite short. He was barely as tall as she was but his muscular physique still made him imposing. He had a stern, watchful look on his face as he stalked along behind his mistress.

“There you are!” Lady Malroth managed to totter a little quicker. Her eyes flickered over Trin’s dress which was very similar to her own bright pink one and then scanned Thrace’s broad form with approval. “And I see that this time you are perfectly accessorized—excellent.”

“I’m glad you approve,” Trin said, trying to keep her voice neutral. “I have the crystals with me so if you’d like to find someplace private to work out the deal—”

“Deal? Before we’ve even been to the first reception?” Lady Malroth sounded offended. “I couldn’t possibly!”

“So…you want us…I mean me to be seen at the reception with you before we can deal?” Trin asked, trying to keep the irritation out of her voice. “Why?”

“Because I’m sponsoring you! It was the only way to get your name on the guest list. It would look very odd for me to put myself out like that and then you not even show up to the first reception. So yes, you must come.”

“All right.” Trin suppressed a sigh. “I’ll be there. With my slave, of course.” She gave a gentle tug on the black leather leash she was holding and Thrace bowed respectfully.

“As my lady wishes,” he rumbled, playing the part of the perfect body-slave to a T.

“About your slave,” Lady Malroth said. “I was actually just coming to warn you—when you meet Lady Tam-tam you have to remember she’s a little, well…different. She has these ideas about males and females and how they ought to interact and well…let’s just say she’s eccentric. Also, she’s a terrible voyeur. So what you need to keep in mind is—”

“Ah, my children—how lovely to see you all here on the rainbow path to enlightenment.” The soft, fruity voice appeared to be coming from behind a prickly yanda bush. Its spiny leaves rustled and then an older woman with snow white hair arranged in a rather messy bun on top of her head emerged from behind it.

“Lady Tam-tam!” Lady Malroth looked confused and distressed—doubtless she was wondering how much the other woman had heard of what she was saying to Trin.

“Lady Malroth.” Lady Tam-tam inclined her head gracefully. She was wearing a simple flowing brown dress that covered her everywhere and comfortable looking flat shoes, Trin saw enviously. Either she was too old to care about fashion or she was simply wearing what was comfortable here at her own estate. Either way, Trin envied her—she really missed her own black flight jumpsuit and worn boots.

“May I present Lady Trin—my protégé,” Lady Malroth said formally. “I sponsored her because I thought she could benefit from the wonderful effects of staying at Dreaming Hills.” She nodded at the rambling brown and white mansion. “This is her first time celebrating Landra-Rey.”

“Ah, lovely—it’s wonderful to see young people interested in the celebration.” Lady Tam-tam smiled encouragingly at Trin. “It’s considered outmoded in Opulex now but we do love our traditions here at Dreaming Hills.”

“I’m very gratified to be here, my lady.” Trin inclined her head.

“And who, may I ask is this?” Lady Tam-tam nodded at Thrace who had been standing silently behind Trin with his head bowed.

Suddenly Trin remembered that she was supposed to be playing the harsh mistress and treating him horribly.

“This worthless male is my body slave,” she said, making her voice icy with distain. “On your knees, Thrace! Make your obeisance before the Lady Tam-tam.”

At once Thrace fell to his knees before the old lady.

“My lady,” he murmured, his head bowed low.

“Lower!” Trin demanded, nudging him with her foot. “The Lady Tam-tam demands your greatest respect!”

“Oh, no, no, no!” Lady Tam-tam looked positively aghast as Thrace crouched even lower. “What are you doing to this poor male?”

“I’m…treating him like the slave he is,” Trin said uncertainly. Behind Lady Tam-tam’s back she could see Lady Malroth making wide gestures with her hands and shaking her head but she had no idea what the other woman wanted her to do.

“And what’s this—a pain collar around his throat?” Lady Tam-tam glared at the black leather and silver spiked collar. She looked up at Trin, her mild blue eyes flashing. “How can you use such an inhuman device? Do you not know what the Landra-Rey Celebration is all about?”

“Well, I…” Trin faltered.

“It’s about the love bond between a slave and a mistress. He ought to serve you out of adoration and devotion—not because you’ll shock him silly if he doesn’t make the proper obeisance!” She looked angrily at Lady Malroth. “How could you bring such a cold hearted girl to my house? Clearly she understands nothing about Landra-Rey! Here at Dreaming Hills, we have only loving couples in attendance—it’s not like the rest of that horrid Yonnie Six high society and I won’t have anyone here that doesn’t understand that.”

Lady Malroth looked mortified.

“Lady Tam-tam, I assure you—” she began.

“No!” the older mistress exclaimed. “I want none of your assurances! You and this awful girl can leave—at once!”

Trin’s heart sank. How could things have gone bad so quickly? They’d barely gotten here and already they were being thrown out—along with the outraged Lady Malroth! She would never agree to buy the crystals now and what’s more, she was influential enough that she could probably ensure no other mistress of Yonnie Six would ever deal with Trin again either. Slowly, she began to back away from the angry older woman.

“I…I’m sorry,” she said as Lady Malroth glared daggers at her. “I never meant to offend.”

“Well, you did. So just go,” Lady Tam-tam snapped.

She was in the act of turning to storm off in a huff when Thrace rose from his crouch at Trin’s feet and turned to her.

“Mistress,” he rumbled, pulling Trin into his arms. “At last a place where we need not hide our love.”

Then he kissed her. A long, slow, passionate kiss that took Trin’s breath away. She opened her mouth to gasp and Thrace was there, his tongue teasing its way inside as he licked her gently…as though he was desperate to taste her.

At first Trin tried to push him away instinctively but he held her close against his broad chest. After a moment, to her intense surprise, she found she was kissing him back.

She’d never kissed a male before and this was very different from the few kisses she’d traded with females. There was no sticky gloss or lipstick to contend with for one thing. Thrace’s mouth was firm and demanding but gentle at the same time. And the way he was running his big, warm hands over her back made her shiver and want to press closer for some reason.

Somehow Trin’s arms drifted up to rest around his neck as she leaned into his big body. Once again she felt surrounded by him—overpowered and out of control in a way that made her heart pound and her breath come short.

Goddess, what was happening to her? How was he doing this to her and why couldn’t she make it stop? Why didn’t she want it to stop?

Then, from behind her, she heard Lady Malroth clearing her throat pointedly. Trin’s eyes, which had drifted shut, flew open.

Lady Malroth! Oh my Goddess! Can’t believe we’re doing this in public! Forget that—Trin couldn’t believe they were doing this at all.

“Thrace!” she gasped, managing to break the kiss and push back from him at last. “No, we can’t—”

“Oh, yes you can, my dear.” Lady Tam-tam’s faded blue eyes were shining as she held out a hand to Trin. “You absolutely can here at Dreaming Hills—that’s what this place is all about. It’s one reason I built it so far from that horrid capital city, Opulex.”

Trin took her hand uncertainly.

“You…built your house so that males and females could have…relationships here?”

“I did.” Lady Tam-tam squeezed her hand tightly. “My body-slave, Nales and I were deeply in love but no one would accept us in Yonnie high society.” She lifted her chin. “So I moved out here and since I am richer than the Goddess herself, I made my own society. Which only mistresses and slaves who truly love each other are welcome to join.”

“Well, that’s…beautiful,” Trin said uncertainly.

“It certainly is,” Lady Malroth said, sounding rather sour. She and her own body-slave were holding hands now, probably in deference to the passionate display Trin and Thrace had just put on. But neither of them looked very comfortable doing it. In fact, Lady Malroth appeared to be standing as far from her body-slave as she could while still touching him.

Lady Tam-tam didn’t appear to notice that, however. Her eyes were glued on Trin and Thrace, who still had one long arm possessively around her waist.

“Tell me, my dear,” she said to Thrace. “How long have you loved your mistress?”

“From the moment she bought me, my lady,” Thrace rumbled, bowing his head respectfully. “My Lady Trin saved my life—the slaver who had me was going to kill me with the pain collar. Lady Trin didn’t allow it—she punched the bastard and forced him to stop shocking me. Then she bought me for an exorbitant amount to keep me from falling into the wrong hands.” He looked Trin in the eyes and his voice got softer. “I owe her everything and I am completely devoted to her. There is nothing I wouldn’t do for her.” He lifted Trin’s hand to his mouth and brushed a kiss to the back of her knuckles. “Nothing.”

“Oh…” His gentle kiss seemed to burn her but somehow Trin found she couldn’t pull her hand from his and couldn’t look away from him either. She knew the big Havoc was just putting on a show for their hostess but those silvery-blue eyes ringed with black seemed to be staring into her very soul. Goddess, he was a really good actor! She could almost believe he meant what he was saying. Almost.

“Thrace,” she whispered uncertainly, her mouth dry. “I…I…”

“Oh my.” Lady Tam-tam put a hand between her breasts and sighed deeply. “My dears, that is just the most romantic story I have ever heard! Truly, the two of you belong here. In fact, I want you to sit with me at the grand reception tonight.”

“Of course, Lady Tam-tam. It would be our honor,” Trin said. Somehow she pulled her gaze away from Thrace’s at last but he continued holding her hand in his much larger one. “And…will we get to meet your body-slave, Nales?” she asked the older woman.

“Alas, no.” Lady Tam-tam dabbed at her eyes with a scrap of lace she produced from her sleeve. “Poor Nales has been gone these last seven cycles and I do miss him so.” She sniffed. “But it does cheer me up a bit to watch sweet young people like you and your own body-slave so devoted to you. Just like Nales was devoted to me.” She smiled at Trin. “I’m so glad you could come!”

“It’s kind of you to have us. And kind of Lady Malroth to sponsor me in the first place,” Trin said, nodding diplomatically to the forgotten Lady Malroth who smiled back sourly.

“Yes, yes, of course.” Lady Tam-tam waved one hand dismissively. “Now why don’t the two of you come with me? I have a special room for the both of you—a dreaming room and you know there are only five in the entire house so they’re very in demand. In fact, this one was going to go to Lady Malroth but I’m sure she won’t mind—will you my dear?”

Lady Malroth’s face had been twisted into a disagreeable mask of irritation but she did her best to smooth it out and put on a fake smile.

“No, of course not, Lady Tam-tam. Nothing’s too good for my little protégé.”

“Excellent! Well, come on then!” She took Trin affectionately by the arm. “And we’ll find a different collar for your love-slave as well—that’s what I like to call a slave who loves his mistress and is truly devoted to her,” she explained. “We’ll get him one with no pain nodes in it. He is still your slave and it is well to symbolize that—but we must never forget that he serves you from adoration, not fear of pain. Yes?”

“Yes, of course,” Trin murmured. “I never wanted to put the collar back on him to start with,” she said, truthfully. “But I thought I had no choice. I…we had no idea…”

“No idea what a sanctuary you have here for slaves who love their mistresses,” Thrace supplied smoothly.

“What a lovely way to put it,” Lady Tam-tam said, smiling. “A sanctuary. I like that. Yes, I like that very much.”

She pulled Trin and Thrace, who was still holding her hand, towards the house. But as they went, Trin looked back at Lady Malroth. The other mistress scarcely looked happier than when Lady Tam-tam had been about to kick them off her estate. And to top it off, they had taken her room and it appeared that they were stuck at Dreaming Hills at least for tonight.

Goddess, what had they gotten themselves into and how long would it take to get out of it?

* * * * *

“Well, here we are—dreaming suite three—just perfect for the two of you.” Lady Tam-tam smiled broadly as she ushered Trin and Thrace across the threshold of an opulently decorated room. It was a vast space with a sitting-room area at one end and a huge sleeping platform on a raised dais at the other. There was a viewscreen on the wall across from the bed, Thrace noted. It seemed like an odd place to put an expensive communication device but it might come in handy for searches or talking to The Alacrity if they had to.

The sleeping platform had four towering carved golden posts at each corner which supported a massive blue and gold canopy overhead. It was high and wide with a thick mattress—plenty big enough for two which was good considering Lady Tam-tam’s next statement.

“I don’t believe in making a loving and devoted slave sleep on the floor or in a hideaway slave bed. Here at Dreaming Hills, your love-slave is welcome to share your bed…in any way you choose.” She gave Trin a meaningful look.

Trin’s dark eyes grew wide.

“Lady Tam-tam, surely…you don’t mean…”

“Oh, my dear—I didn’t mean you should let him penetrate you or anything like that,” Lady Tam-tam said, obviously seeing her embarrassment. “I mean, there are limits—he is still a slave and a male. Of course…” Her eyes gleamed. “If you want to penetrate him, well, that’s different. In fact, later on in the celebration we’ll have a night devoted specifically to the beauty of male submission.”

“You will?” Trin swallowed hard and Thrace tried to keep from wincing. He hoped like hell they were long gone before that particular night came around. He didn’t mind being Trin’s slave and serving her in any capacity but there were limits to what he was able to endure.

“We will,” Lady Tam-tam said. “But I just want you to feel free to explore each other here in a loving way and know that no one will judge you for it.” She winked at both of them broadly and smiled.

“Of…of course.” Trin appeared to have trouble getting the words out but Thrace was very interested indeed. It seemed that body-slaves had a proscribed role here at Dreaming Hills but it was considerably looser than elsewhere on Yonnie Six. He would have to learn the exact parameters of his new boundaries in order to get this right.

Finally, after many hints and nods, Lady Tam-tam left them alone. Trin sank down on the edge of the vast sleeping platform and gave a deep, relieved sigh.

“Whew! That was crazy.”

“Mmm-hmm.” Thrace came to stand before her. “Lady Tam-tam seems damn taken with you though, Mistress.”

“That’s thanks to you,” Trin remarked. “You really saved us back there! That kiss was…quick thinking.” She looked down at her hands. “Not that I think you ought to repeat it.”

“Why not, Mistress?” Thrace said softly. “Was it too intense for you?”

“Of course not.” Trin lifted her chin though he could see that her cheeks were flushed. “It’s just…not—”

“Not right? Not proper?” Thrace finished for her. “I have news for you, Trin, we’re probably going to have to do some other ‘improper’ things while we’re here. You know what Yonnite society is like—I’ve only researched it but you’ve lived it—at least to an extent. You know what they expect.”

“I think we’ve already seen that the expectations are different here,” Trin argued. “Look at what just happened—on most of Yonnie Six the idea of a male slave kissing his mistress on the mouth would have been a flogging or pain collar offense. It was damn risky of you to even try it.”

Thrace shrugged.

“No guts, no glory. I thought it was worth the risk since we were getting kicked out anyway.”

Also, he’d wanted to do it—wanted to taste her sweet lips. The kiss they’d shared down on the gemstone path was burned into his mind and he couldn’t help wanting more. And he had a feeling that Trin might too—even if she wouldn’t admit it. The way she’d melted in his arms hadn’t been just an act—he could damn well tell by how hot her scent got. But this wasn’t the time to bring any of that up so he simply shrugged again. “Anyway—it worked and we’re in.”

“We’re in,” Trin echoed. “But now what?” She kicked the high-heeled shoes he’d simmed for her. “Whew! It feels so good to get those off!”

“Now we find out exactly what our roles are here and how different it really is from the rest of Yonnie Six,” Thrace murmured. Sinking to his knees before her, he took one of her dainty feet in his hands and began to rub.

“Oh!” Trin tried to pull away. “You don’t have to do that!”

Thrace almost said he wanted to do it—that he wanted to touch her any way he could, which was true. But then he thought better of it.

“Yes, I do,” he said, continuing the foot rub despite her protest. “I have to be the perfect devoted slave, hopelessly enamored of his mistress here. This is part of it.”

“But you don’t have to keep it up while we’re in our private rooms,” Trin protested. She still seemed uneasy about letting him touch her this way, even though he’d held her in his arms most of last night. It occurred to Thrace that she was a very self sufficient female and one who had never really had much intimate physical contact with another person—especially not a male. So getting her used to his touch would take some work on his part.

That was all right—he was willing to put in the effort.

“And how private do you think this room is?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at her.

“Well the doors are closed and there are shades over all the windows,” she said, indicating the tall, floor to ceiling drapes which were outlined by weak grayish light around the edges.

“But how do you know there aren’t cameras or vid equipment trained on us right now?” Thrace asked. “Think about it, Trin, Lady Malroth told us that lady Tam-tam is a voyeur. And what about the way she was urging us to explore each other in bed?”

Trin’s cheeks flushed. “That was kind of weird,” she admitted. “You think she might be…watching us?”

“Maybe. What do you think these are?” Thrace indicated four tiny black dots, one at the middle of each bedpost. They were positioned to give a perfect view of whoever was lying there—if they were what he suspected.

“Oh!” Trin looked at them. “Hidden vidcams? Do you think they’re wired for sound?”

Thrace frowned. “I doubt it. The acoustics in this room would be terrible for it. High ceilings, too many echoes. If they wanted sound, they would have put us in a much smaller, more insulated room. No, if I had to bet I’d guess that Lady Tam-tam just likes to watch.”

“You really think so?” Trin asked, wide-eyed.

“I wouldn’t be surprised. I’ll try to find out tonight.” Thrace finished her right foot and reached for the left. He was pleased when she didn’t try to pull away this time. “I’m going to go out while you’re getting dressed and talk to some of the other slaves. Need to get some insight on how we’re supposed to behave here.”

“You’re right—we need to know the exact rules of etiquette for the grand reception tonight,” Trin said thoughtfully. “We don’t want to offend anyone and I have to admit…” She sighed. “I have no idea how to behave toward you. Am I still supposed to treat you as a slave, or are you my equal?”

“Since they’re doing a whole night devoted to the ‘beauty of male submission’ I’m pretty sure I’m not supposed to act as your equal,” Thrace said dryly. “But I don’t think you’re supposed to abuse me publicly either.”

“Well, that’s good anyway. I never wanted to act like a bitch mistress from the Seven Hells to begin with.” Trin sighed as he pressed his thumbs to the delicate arch of her foot. “Goddess, you’re good at that!”

“Glad you’re enjoying yourself, Mistress.” Thrace grinned at her. “Just your devoted slave here, doing everything I can to give you pleasure.”

“Very funny.” She raised an eyebrow at him. “You were very convincing back there with Lady Tam-tam you know—telling her how you, uh, fell in love with me when I bought you.” She cleared her throat and his cheeks got flushed again. “You had her completely fooled.”

“I wasn’t trying to fool her—I was telling the truth,” Thrace pointed out. “About the way you bought and rescued me, I mean.” He grinned at Trin. “Of course, you’ll notice I didn’t mention anything about the way you kept me chained to my bed for the next several days.”

“Or the way you tried to choke the life out of me,” Trin reminded him but a little smile was playing around the corners of her mouth. “Or the way you rescued me from B’Rugh and a fate worse than death. Ugh.” She shivered.

“Well, she doesn’t need to know everything,” Thrace said.

“She especially doesn’t need to know that we’re only together until we do this deal.” Trin spoke casually but her words caused a strange hollow sensation somewhere in the pit of Thrace’s stomach. Which made no sense.

“Of course, the deal,” he muttered, frowning.

“I’m worried about it,” Trin admitted. “I don’t think Lady Malroth was too thrilled that we got her room and Lady Tam-tam’s instant affection. It might ruin everything.”

“I doubt it,” Thrace remarked. “She seems like a shrewd businesswoman and you’re offering good quality crystals for a very fair price. She’ll still want the deal. Get her alone after the reception tonight and talk to her then.”

“All right, I will. And I hope you’re right.” Trin looked at him. “I know you hope so, too. Even though I’m not required to treat you like dirt, this can’t be easy for you—being my slave and having to act like you’re madly in love with me. I mean it’s just…silly.” She coughed.

“Uh-huh. Ridiculous,” Thrace said softly, though he didn’t know who he was trying to convince—her or himself. “Anyway, we’ll be out of here soon. Until then, let’s just play our parts. And let me find out how we’re supposed to behave.” He let her small foot slip from his hands and stood up. “Wish me luck, Mistress—I’m going on a fact finding mission. Or, if anyone asks, I’m searching for some calming mint oil to rub into your temples because you feel a headache coming on.”

Trin smiled. “You’re too much, Thrace. Okay, be careful. I think I might just lay down here for a little while and take a nap.” She yawned. “I don’t know why but I’m so sleepy.”

“Aftereffects of the passion berries,” Thrace told her. “It’s all out of your system but it still leaves you feeling drained. Sleep while you can, I’ll come back in time to wake you for the reception.”

“Okay…” Her eyes were already closing and her long, black hair was spread over the blue and gold embroidered pillow. The thin lace panels covering her breasts and sex showed her warm brown curves and her beautiful face was tranquil and serene.

Thrace couldn’t help thinking what a lovely sight she made lying in the center of the sleeping platform like a princess out of an old story. On impulse, he took her hand in his and bent to place a soft kiss in her palm.

“Oh!” Trin opened her eyes and looked at him uncertainly.

“Sleep well, Mistress,” he murmured. Then, reluctantly, he let her go and left.

Chapter Sixteen

“Wake up, baby. Time to get moving.”

The deep voice in her ear was familiar. But who could be calling her ‘baby’? Everyone she knew called her by her surname, as was the custom on Zetta Prime. Well, except for her mother who called her by her first name, Lonnara. So who…

Thrace. It’s Thrace, a little voice in her head whispered. Sure enough, when she opened her eyes, he was sitting beside her on the bed holding a turquoise lace and Neptharian silk gown in his hands.

“What’s that?” Trin asked groggily. Goddess, she felt like she’d been sleeping for a hundred cycles and her head throbbed like a rotten tooth.

“Your outfit for tonight. I just resized it. Sit up and put it on—the reception is in fifteen minutes.”

“That soon?” Trin sat up in a sudden panic but the motion caused a spike of pain to pierce her brain. “Goddess of Judgment, my head.” She put a hand to her forehead and winced.

“Here. Hold still.” Large warm fingers were suddenly at her temples, rubbing something cool and soothing into her throbbing flesh.

“What’s that?” Trin muttered.

“Calming mint oil of course. Told you I was going to get some. Breathe it in—it’ll help.”

“I thought that was just your cover story,” Trin said, inhaling deeply as he instructed. A cool, faintly sweet scent reached her nose at once. And to her relief, it did ease the headache. “That does help.” She looked at him. “Did you know I’d have a headache when I woke up? More aftereffects of those damn passion berries?”

He nodded. “Afraid so.”

“Well how much longer am I going to keep having them? Feeling so fatigued and waking up with my head pounding…” Trin frowned. “I mean, it’s ridiculous—I barely took one tiny sip of that wine!”

“It was laced with three berries,” he pointed out. “That’s enough for three people your size. “You’re just lucky you didn’t drink any more.”

“But isn’t there a way to get rid of all of it—after effects and all?” Trin demanded. “You should know—you said the passion berries were native to your planet.”

He shrugged obliquely.

“Sure—the same thing that’s the only cure if you take the second and third sips.”

Trin bit her lip. “You mean…penetration and…and insemination?”

“Uh-huh.” His eyes were half-lidded now for some reason and his deep voice was a soft growl.

“That’s…unnatural.” Trin felt her heart pound at the thought…I am one of the Unpenetrated. I have too much self respect to allow such a thing. Besides it’s wrong. Allowing a male to penetrate you with his shaft was like a slap in the face of the Goddess—or so said the priestesses who served in her temple. And while Trin had outgrown many of her childhood beliefs, some were far too ingrained to get rid of. Not that she wanted to. “It’s unthinkable,” she said firmly.

“Not for a lot of females,” Thrace pointed out. “It is the way most people–hell, most species—reproduce, you know.”

“Well not my people,” Trin said sharply. “I don’t want to be penetrated anymore than you do. It’s…wrong.”

He winced and sat back.

“Point taken. All right, let’s forget about it then. I have plenty of mint oil if you get another headache.”

“Thank you.” She smiled at him. “That’s very thoughtful. So what did you learn about our roles here?”

Thrace shrugged. “Not that different from Yonnie Six, really, except there’s no punishment involved. Well, no punishment by pain anyway. I am still expected to wait on you hand and foot and drop to my knees and kiss you to show reverence when we’re announced at the reception…that kind of thing.”

“I’m sorry about that.” Trin bit her lip. When she’d first had the idea to buy a male slave to act as her prop during situations like this, she’d been thinking that males were big dumb brutes—more animal than anything else—so the idea of one of them subjugating himself to her in public hadn’t seemed like a big deal. After all, her stallion, Swift was quick to come running and was happy to perform a few tricks for the treats she always carried in her pocket. Trin had imagined training a slave much the same way.

Now she had a slave—albeit a temporary one—and she knew he was sharply intelligent as well as proud and strong. Asking Thrace to bow and scrape to her every whim seemed wrong…degrading.

Her feelings must have shown on her face because Thrace took her hand in his and looked into her eyes.

“It’s all right—I don’t mind, Mistress.”

“How can you not?” Trin protested. “All this bowing and kissing my foot in public…”

“It’s not your foot I’m supposed to kiss. Haven’t you ever been to a Yonnite High Reception before?”

“Not one where I was announced. Why, what are you supposed to kiss?” Trin felt a surge of apprehension.

Thrace raised an eyebrow at her. “Your panties, Mistress.”

“My what?” Trin’s heart started to pound. “I really don’t think—”

“Hey, it’s all right.” Thrace stroked a strand of hair out of her eyes. “Listen, baby, I know you’ve never been kissed there so I promise to be gentle.”

“I’m not a baby—I’m your Mistress,” Trin reminded him a little sharply, though she secretly rather liked the sweet, caressing name he called her when he forgot himself.

“Mistress, then. What I’m trying to say is, it’s just a quick kiss—nothing too deep or intimate. A formality, really.”

“A formality,” Trin echoed doubtfully. “Well, I guess…”

“It’ll be fine,” he assured her. “But right now, you need to get ready or we’re going to be late.”

“All right, what am I wearing? That?” Trin eyed the turquoise gown apprehensively. If anything it looked even more revealing than the yellow gown she’d fallen asleep in.

“Afraid so,” Thrace said. “I checked and this is the kind of dress all the mistresses are wearing to the reception tonight—the latest Yonnite fashion. You probably won’t like it but it’s going to look fucking gorgeous on you.”

Trin grimaced. “I hate it already.”

“At least the shoes have a lower heel,” he remarked, showing her a pair of turquoise sandals with straps over the arch and heel. “So they shouldn’t hurt your feet as much.”

“Anything but the boots I’m used to is probably going to hurt,” Trin groused. She sighed. “All right—let’s get this over with. Give me the dress and point me towards the fresher.”

Silently, Thrace complied.

After ten minutes of trying to get comfortable in the new outfit, Trin looked down at herself and grimaced. She’d been right—the gown was more revealing than the yellow one. Instead of a whole panel of lace to cover her chest, it only had a thin rectangular strip which barely hid her nipples and stretched tightly from side to side. It kept wanting to come loose and Trin had to adjust it several times to get it to stay in place.

Below, the gown was no better. There was no lace panel this time. Instead, the dress had a kind of strange draw-string type feature which split the bottom part of it into puffy wings. When the draw-string was pulled, the dress spread wide in front and back and only covered the sides of her legs, leaving her ass and sex on display. This clearly revealed the turquoise panties that matched the gown, much to Trin’s growing dismay.

The panties consisted of a tiny lace triangle which barely covered her pussy slit and a few lacy straps which went over her hips to hold it in place. They did their job poorly and the triangle kept twisting to one side or the other, exposing her in a most embarrassing way.

“This is ridiculous,” she muttered, releasing the draw string so that the dress closed and she was covered. “It’s excessive even for Yonnie Six. I’m not walking around exposed all night. There—that’s better,” she added, looking at herself in the 3-D viewer. The top of her dress was still obscene but at least her ass and crotch were modestly covered now.

“Almost done? Reception in five,” Thrace called through the door.

“I know. I’m coming.” Taking a deep breath, she stepped out of the fresher. “How do I look?”

Thrace frowned.

“Too covered up. You’re wearing the dress wrong—it’s supposed to be open. How can I get to your panties to kiss you otherwise?”

“I’m not wearing it open,” Trin said firmly. “It’s ridiculous to expect—”

Suddenly a sharp tapping sounded on the door. Trin exchanged glances with Thrace but before either of them could answer it, it burst open to reveal Lady Tam-tam, looking resplendent in an orange and purple mu-mu which swept to the floor and covered everything, which hardly seemed fair to Trin.

“My darlings,” she exclaimed, coming over to them. “Forgive the intrusion but I just remembered that I forgot to give you a new collar for your love-slave. And I promised you one so faithfully—I couldn’t go back on my word.”

“Of course, Lady Tam-tam, please come in,” Trin said, trying to smile. “I’m very grateful—I can’t wait to take the pain collar off Thrace and give him a new one.”

“Good. Here it is.” She withdrew a long, thin rectangular box from the folds of her voluminous gown and opened it, showing the contents to Trin. Inside was a black leather collar studded with pale silvery-blue gems.

“Oh—it’s lovely,” Trin exclaimed, honestly impressed. “But it looks so expensive! What are those gems?”

“Lathian sapphires.” Lady Tam-tam beamed. “They look more expensive than they are though—don’t worry about it. Consider them my gift to you.”

“Thank you.” Trin turned to Thrace. “Let’s get rid of that pain collar, shall we?”

“With greatest pleasure, Mistress,” he rumbled, sinking to his knees before her so that Trin could reach the fastening to the black and silver pain collar.

She took it off, reflecting that just a few days ago it was the only thing that had persuaded her to trust Thrace and his intentions towards her and her crew. But things had changed now. Maybe it was the way they had grown to know and respect each other or maybe it was…something else. But she no longer needed the pain collar to feel safe around him. She felt only relief as she discarded it.

The new gem-studded collar fit Thrace perfectly, emphasizing his strong throat and broad, bare shoulders. Trin took a little longer than she needed to putting it on, enjoying the touch of his warm skin and the way he looked kneeling in front of her. Goddess, she’d never thought much of the male form before but Thrace really was a work of art. Every muscle was sculpted, standing out in bold relief.

Impulsively, she carded her fingers through his hair, caressing him gently in the way she imagined a real mistress would do with a slave she cared for. Or maybe it’s just because you want to touch him, whispered a little voice in her head. But Trin pushed it away—she was just playing a part for Lady Tam-tam, the same way Thrace was.

Thrace looked up at her gentle touch, his eyes blazing.

“Mistress…” he whispered hoarsely.

“Lovely,” Lady Tam-tam said, smiling. “I just knew those Lathian sapphires would bring out his eyes!”

“They really do,” Trin murmured as Thrace held her gaze with his. “They’re…beautiful.” But she wasn’t looking at the stones.

“Not as beautiful as you, Mistress,” Thrace rumbled. Taking both her hands in his, he brought them to his lips and kissed the insides of her wrists, just over the pulse points. “Thank you for trusting me,” he murmured. “Thank you for understanding that you don’t need pain to command me. You own me, body and soul. No pain any collar could inflict on me would be as deep as losing you.”

“Of…of course,” Trin whispered, rather breathlessly. It was hard not to be affected by his words, even though she knew they were only part of his act.

“That’s wonderful.” Lady Tam-tam’s eyes were brimming. “Oh my dear, how lucky you are to hold the heart of such a male. Truly, I envy you. It makes me miss my poor Nales so much! Well…” She took a deep breath. “It’s time we got to the reception.” She looked at Trin more closely and frowned. “Only you can’t go like that. You must open the skirt of your gown—otherwise how can your love-slave make a proper obeisance and show his affection for you?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, Lady Tam-tam,” Trin said. Then, having an inspiration she said, “I guess I just thought since your dress is so lovely and modest I could emulate you.”

“That’s very sweet of you, my dear, but I’m only dressed like this because I don’t have the figure to wear the latest fashions anymore.” Lady Tam-tam smiled. “You on the other hand are just perfect! You need to show off your figure. Now go on—open your gown and we’ll go.”

“Nice try,” Thrace muttered, for her ears alone. Then in a louder voice he said, “I’ll do it, Mistress.” He was still kneeling before her and it only took him a minute to pull the silken draw string, parting the gown both in front and in back and fix it in place. When the small turquoise triangle of her panties was revealed, he drew in a deep breath. “Gods…”

“That’s enough, Thrace,” Trin murmured nervously. “You may rise.”

“Don’t discourage him, my dear,” Lady Tam-tam remarked as the huge Havoc got gracefully to his feet. “He’s simply admiring your beauty. It’s a heady thing to be so desired by a male—don’t you agree?”

“I…suppose so,” Trin said uncertainly. “Honestly, I’m not much used to it. Thrace is the first body-slave I’ve ever owned and before him I didn’t deal with males.” She felt it was wise to stick as close to the truth as possible—at least with her personal history.

“Interesting,” Lady Tam-tam nodded thoughtfully as she preceded them from the room. “Most mistresses are given their first slave by the age of seventeen or eighteen cycles but I suppose that your mother decided to wait and let you choose your own?”

“Something like that,” Trin murmured uneasily, wondering what her mother and everyone else she’d ever known on Zetta Prime would think if they could see her now. They’d probably be horrified to see how close she and Thrace had been getting.

Well, they’re not here and besides, I’m my own woman. I’ve been on my own long enough not to care what they think, she told herself firmly. Still, she couldn’t quite push the thought completely to the back of her mind.

As Trin tried to ignore her guilty thoughts, Lady Tam-tam led them down long, winding corridors richly decorated with gold-framed holo-pics and moving statues. At last they came to a tall set of double doors, covered in vines and flowers which seemed to be real.

“Well, here we are—the Grand Reception Hall,” she said. “Everyone will already be waiting for us. I’ll go first, of course and then you’ll be announced and you can follow. Just come right up to the head table—I have the seat beside me reserved just for the two of you.”

“Thank you, Lady Tam-tam,” Trin said respectfully. “That’s very kind of you.”

“Oh, and one more thing my dear—there is a male here tonight from the Degas system who’s not a slave. I know—I know—it’s shocking.” Lady Tam-tam’s eyes danced. “But I don’t believe they all have to be slaves—actually, he’s royalty, if you can believe that. And I like being a little shocking and naughty sometimes—I’m an old lady. It’s one of the few pleasures I have left.”

Trin smiled. “Of course I’ll treat him with respect as he is your guest.”

“I knew I could depend on you, Lady Trin. Just lead the way and all the rest of the mistresses will follow. Well…” Lady Tam-tam straightened her flowing mu-mu and rapped sharply on the vine and flower-covered doors. “It’s time to put on a show.”

Chapter Seventeen

The doors swung open, revealing a vast room filled with well dressed mistresses and their body-slaves. Flanking the doorway were two muscular male guards in brilliant purple and orange uniforms that matched Lady Tam-tam’s mu-mu.

“The Lady Tam-tam, mistress of Dreaming Hills and of all our hearts. And your hostess here tonight,” one of the guards proclaimed. The entire room erupted in applause—apparently Lady Tam-tam was well liked. Or at least her guests knew they’d better pretend they liked her.

Trin wondered which it was—not that she really cared. All she wanted to do was get through this reception and make the deal with Lady Malroth. After that, she was leaving Dreaming Hills, hopefully forever.

Lady Tam-tam stood framed in the doorway with her chin lifted and surveyed the crowd as the applause swelled dramatically. Then she inclined her head majestically and swept into the room like a queen approaching her throne.

After such an entrance, all eyes were on Lady Tam-tam. Seeing an opportunity, Trin slipped quietly past the door guards and along the perimeter of the room rather that waiting to be announced.

“What are you doing?” Thrace growled softly from behind her as he followed. “You’re supposed to wait to be announced—you just broke a major rule of etiquette.”

“It’ll be fine.” Trin tried to make her voice light. “No one even noticed.”

“You’d better hope not,” he remarked grimly. “Or you’re going to be in a galaxy of trouble.”

Trin felt a stab of apprehension but she refused to show it.

“Stop worrying so much—we’re fine.”

“As long as nobody calls you on it.” He touched her arm lightly, turning her to face him. “Were you that afraid to let me kiss your panties, Mistress?”

Trin bristled. “Of course not—don’t be silly.” Although she had to admit that the idea of letting the big Havoc press his face to the place between her thighs did make her stomach feel tight and her palms damp. “I just…wanted to avoid a scene,” she said.

Thrace snorted. “Right.”

“Don’t make me wish you still had the pain collar on,” Trin snapped. “Now come on—let’s mingle. Look, I think I see Lady Malroth over there.”

The brightly dressed mistresses—all wearing the same revealing fashions that Trin herself had on, were mingling and talking, their high, light voices filling the air. The lower tones of their body-slaves were less frequent but they were joining in the conversation at times, Trin saw.

It seemed evident that some of the mistresses and body-slaves truly cared for each other. There were hands being held and shy but loving glances being exchanged by many couples. Possibly this was the first public gathering they’d ever attended where they felt free to show their true feelings.

It was sweet, Trin thought. Even though she’d been raised to think of males as savages and animals, she knew differently now. She risked a glance at Thrace who was still frowning. If she’d been born someplace where males were considered equals would she have formed a relationship with one of them? A romantic relationship? Even…a sexual one?

Don’t be crude, whispered a little voice in her head which sounded disturbingly like her mother. You know that having sexual relations with a male is no better than having sexual relations with an animal. Only a female with no self respect or dignity would even consider such a thing. You were raised better than that!

Trin sighed. She wished she didn’t have to keep having this conversation with herself. Honestly, she’d never given any male a second thought before she met Thrace. Now, everything seemed so upside down and backwards somehow.

It’s just until after you do the deal, she told herself comfortingly. Then you’ll go your separate ways and you won’t have to think of it ever again. For now, just find Lady Malroth and get it done.

Almost as soon as she thought it, she saw the very woman she was looking for. Lady Malroth appeared to belong to a second set of mistresses—the ones who were standing a little apart from their body-slaves with bored or irritated looks on their faces. Clearly they were here for business or social networking reasons—not because they had secretly fallen in love with their slaves.

Lady Malroth was standing at the far edge of the crowd, sipping a glass of deep blue wine and looking with complete disinterest at her own body-slave. He was standing beside her but it was clear he had no interest in her either, other than guarding her as part of his job. In fact, the look on his face was so expressionless Trin had no idea what he was thinking—or if he was thinking at all.

“Oh, Lady Trin,” she said icily when Trin and Thrace walked up. “How good of you to finally join the rest of us commoners. But I can see why you were late—you were in exalted company.”

“I was late because I woke up with a horrible headache and Thrace had to fetch me some mint oil,” Trin said. “We just happened to meet Lady Tam-tam on the way.”

“Of course you did.” It was clear Lady Malroth didn’t believe a word of her story.

Trin decided to try a different approach.

“I’m really sorry we…intruded earlier when we first met Lady Tam-tam,” she said. “I never meant for that to happen or for her to give us your room.”

“Are you joking? Not sleeping in the dreaming suite is a relief.” Lady Malroth laughed nastily. “Let someone else perform for her for a change.”

“Perform for her?” Trin exchanged glances with Thrace. “What do you mean?”

“What do you think I mean?” Lady Malroth snapped. “The viewscreen across from the bed—it records images.”

“It does?” Trin exclaimed. So Thrace had been right about Lady Tam-tam wanting to watch, even if he’d been wrong about where the images were being captured. What were the black dots on the bedposts then?

Lady Malroth took another big sip of wine and nodded.

“The 3-D viewer in the fresher does as well. So be sure you put on a good show tonight—I guarantee Lady Tam-tam will be watching.” She sneered. “That shouldn’t be too hard—seeing as how you and your pet male are so in love.”

Trin ignored the jab.

“What? What if I don’t want to put on a show?”

Lady Malroth shrugged.

“Then we have no deal, my dear Lady Trin. I am your sponsor here so what you do reflects on me. Please lady Tam-tam and it looks good for me, as I brought you here. Displease her and it will tarnish my reputation—not good at all either for my social life or my business as most of the mistresses gathered here tonight are my trade partners.”

“So you’re saying we need to do what Lady Tam-tam wants in order to make you look good. Otherwise, no deal,” Thrace growled.

Lady Malroth glowered at him and then turned to Trin.

“Kindly tell your slave not to speak to me as if he were my equal. I know we’re here at Dreaming Hills where free love between mistresses and slaves is the order of the day but I will not tolerate insolence.”

“He wasn’t being insolent,” Trin protested, feeling a surge of protective anger. “He was simply restating your point.”

“He was speaking directly to me as if he had every right.” Lady Malroth looked at the big Havoc coolly. “If we were back in Opulex instead of stuck out here in this Goddess-forsaken wilderness, I’d have his tongue cut out for even daring to address me unless I spoke to him first.”

“He—” Trin began, her fists clenched at her sides. But Thrace cut her off.

“Forgive me, Mistress,” he said smoothly, making a deep and respectful bow to Lady Malroth. “I did not mean to offend.”

Trin looked at him, amazed that he could remain so unaffected by Lady Malroth’s highhandedness. Far back in the depths of those silver-blue eyes she thought she detected a hot spark burning. But his strong features were set in lines of honest repentance, as though he was really sorry for making the other mistress so upset.

“Well…” Lady Malroth looked somewhat mollified. “That’s better. At least he knows how to behave when prompted.” She looked at Trin, who was still angry and irritated, though she was trying not to let it show on her face. “So—even though it was badly put, your body-slave is correct. Please Lady Tam-tam and I will still deal with you. Incur her wrath or displeasure and you incur mine as well. In that case the deal is off and you can flush the crystals into deep space for all I care.”

“But…how do I please her? What does she want?” Trin asked in exasperation.

“What do you think she wants?” Lady Malroth snapped. “She’s a dirty old woman! As for what she’s in the mood to see tonight, don’t worry—she’ll drop some hints at dinner. I noticed you’re sitting in the place of honor at her right hand—the very place I was supposed to sit.”

“Again, I’m sorry,” Trin said. “I never meant for that to happen either.”

“No matter.” Lady Malroth dismissed the matter with an airy wave of her hand. “Yet another embarrassment you’ve saved me. Those swaying love chairs they have at the head table are not at all comfortable. As I’m sure you’ll find out.” She grinned nastily.

“Love chairs?” Trin was beginning to feel more and more worried. “What—”

But just at that moment three high, sweet chiming notes sounded loudly throughout the vast room and a male voice proclaimed, “Dinner is served my ladies!”

“Better hurry or you’ll be late,” Lady Malroth remarked coolly. “Good evening, Lady Trin. I’ll see you tomorrow if all goes well tonight.”

Then she swept away with her body-slave in tow, leaving Trin to look after her in disbelief.

* * * * *

“Looks like we’re stuck here—at least for the night,” Thrace remarked under his breath. Trin was looking pale and upset and he wanted to get her talking and make sure she was all right.

“Did you hear what she said?” Trin turned to him, ignoring the crowd of mistresses and slaves that were making their way to another large room through a vast golden archway.

“Yeah, I heard. Sounds like you have a choice to make,” Thrace said. “Either forget about the deal or put on a show for Lady Tam-tam tonight.”

“Why only me? Why am I the only one making the choice?” Trin demanded, her eyes flashing. “This involves you too. Don’t you care that Lady Malroth is basically telling us we have to prostitute ourselves to earn her business?”

Thrace shrugged. “Honestly? No.” He let his eyes travel over her body from the rectangle of see-though lace pulled tight over her full breasts to the tiny scrap of turquoise fabric which barely covered her pussy mound. “You’re gorgeous and soft and curved in all the right places,” he said, letting his eyes return to hers. “And you smell so damn good it makes me ache. I have no problem in ‘putting on a show’ for Lady Tam-tam if it means I get to stroke your soft skin and bring you pleasure.”

“Thrace!” Trin bit her lip and crossed her arms protectively over her breasts. “You’re not supposed to talk like that. It’s not…”

“Proper? Here it is,” he pointed out. “But I’m not trying to embarrass you. You asked me a question and I gave you an honest answer. If you want to go through with the deal, we’ll have to do whatever Lady Tam-tam wants. It’s up to you.”

“Maybe…” Trin bit her lip. “Maybe she doesn’t want much—just something romantic. Like you holding me, the way you did last night.”

“Maybe,” Thrace acknowledged although he couldn’t help hoping for a little more. Not that he wanted to make Trin uncomfortable or take what she didn’t want to give, but even now her scent was hot. She might not know what she wanted, but her body clearly did.

“Or maybe we can pretend—act like we’re doing…whatever it is without actually doing it.” Trin was beginning to sound more hopeful.

Thrace shrugged again. “It’s worth a try.”

“All right, we’ll do it.” Trin lifted her chin. “I need this deal to go through. Normally I would never consider anything like this but since you don’t mind…”

“Not a bit,” Thrace growled. He took her hand in his. “Didn’t you hear me tell Lady Tam-tam there was nothing I wouldn’t do for you?”

“But…” Her cheeks got flushed. “You were just trying to charm her when you said that.”

“I was telling the truth,” Thrace said quietly. “I owe you a great debt, Trin. One I can never truly repay. I’ll do whatever it takes…whatever you want to get this done. And I’ll do it with pleasure.” He raised her hand to his mouth and kissed her palm gently. Gods, he loved kissing her soft little hands. He just wished he could kiss the rest of her as well!

“Thrace…” Her dark eyes were wide and uncertain. “I—”

“Forgive me, my lady, but the dinner chime rang five minutes ago. If you don’t hurry you will be late.”

It was one of the door guards, dressed in his orange and purple uniform. He bowed low and indicated the broad golden archway at the end of the room which most of the other mistresses had already gone through.

“Oh, of course. Thank you.” Trin nodded in confusion and looked at Thrace. “I guess we’d better go.”

“I guess so,” he said. But he couldn’t help wondering what was in store for them later that night. And if Trin would allow herself to enjoy it.

Chapter Eighteen

The head dining table was at the far end of the long, high-ceilinged rectangular room. Two long tables ran the length of the vast hall and all the other mistresses were already seated along them with their slaves.

Trin and Thrace had to walk all the way from one end of the banquet hall to the other with everyone staring at them. Trin could feel her cheeks heating as they strode down the narrow isle between the lengthy tables but she kept her head high and her shoulders back. She refused to be embarrassed by a lot of women she didn’t know and didn’t care about—at least, that was what she told herself.

“Ah, my dear—here you are. I was beginning to get worried!” Lady Tam-tam said when they finally reached the head table which was covered in a gold lace tablecloth and laid with gem encrusted goblets and plates. Lady Tam-tam was seated on a vast golden throne-like chair right in the center of the table.

There were chairs on either side of her, but they weren’t normal plasti-wood ones like the kind the other mistresses and slaves were seated on at the two long tables. Instead, the chairs at the head table appeared to be a kind of high-backed sitting swing made of padded mesh and suspended from the arching ceiling above. Trin saw, with some dismay, that the chairs were meant for two—but not to sit side-by-side. No, the arrangement appeared to be much more…intimate than that.

From what she could see, the body-slave sat in the swing first and leaned back against the padded mesh and then his mistress sat in his lap. It looked rather awkward for the few couples who didn’t appear to want to be together or touching but there were several mistress and slave pairs seated around Lady Tam-tam who seemed to be enjoying themselves immensely. One of them was a little blonde mistress and her slave seated directly to Trin’s left. They were giggling and snuggling like a pair of love birds, obviously perfectly comfortable in the strange swing-seat.

There was an empty swinging seat to Lady Tam-tam’s right, right beside the giggling couple, but when Trin moved to go to it, their hostess raised a hand to stop her.

“Wait, Lady Trin. Through some oversight by the door guards I don’t believe you were announced as we came into the reception hall.”

Trin’s mouth went dry and her palms began to sweat.

“Oh, well that’s all right, Lady Tam-tam. I don’t mind, really,” she said, trying to smile.

“But I do.” Lady Tam-tam got a mulish expression on her face. “You’re my special guest—you must be announced! And there is no time like the present. Guard!” she said and one of the guards in orange and purple livery rushed over at once.

“Yes, my Mistress?”

“Announce Lady Trin at once. Yes—right here will do,” indicating the open spot in front of the table. “And see that you speak nice and loudly so everyone can hear.”

Trin had never been a particularly shy person but she felt she wanted to melt into the ground when the guard turned and bellowed,

“Announcing Lady Trin, the special guest of our hostess and the mistress of all our hearts, Lady Tam-tam of Dreaming Hills!”

Trin made a brief bow to all those assembled but she knew she couldn’t be seated yet. Thrace was standing right beside her, waiting for her signal. But somehow she couldn’t give it.

“Well, go on my dear,” Lady Tam-tam hissed behind her. “Have your love-slave make obeisance to you. Then the feast can begin.”

She looked at Thrace, her heart pounding. Goddess, I can’t do this in front of all these people. I can’t…

Thrace seemed to understand her trouble—the way she was frozen to the spot and unable to move, unable to give him the correct signal to make obeisance to her.

“Mistress,” he murmured and bent towards her. But instead of getting on his knees at once, he leaned forward and cupped her breasts. Bringing them to his mouth, he laid a soft, gentle kiss on each nipple, making Trin bite back a gasp. His breath was hot through the thin lace and her nipples, already erect from the slight chill in the air, were suddenly tight, aching little points at the ends of her breasts.

From behind her, she heard Lady Tam-tam give a murmur of approval but Thrace wasn’t done yet—he knelt before her and put his hands on her waist. He looked up at her, holding her gaze with his own, and then pressed his mouth carefully to the tiny triangle of turquoise lace at the center of her mound.

This time Trin couldn’t stop the moan that escaped her as his hot breath caressed the curve of her sex. She could feel his open mouth pressing against her outer pussy lips and his eyes were half lidded with desire as he looked up at her and kissed her—kissed her as though he wished the panties weren’t in his way.

Trin wanted to look away but she couldn’t—she was caught in that silver-blue gaze and unable to get free. As he nuzzled close and pressed deeper so that she felt her pussy lips parting under the thin material, she couldn’t help remembering the things he’d said about tasting her, about how he longed to lap her juices right from the source…

“Th-thrace,” she gasped, almost unable to get the words out. “That’s enough.”

He ended the kiss with obvious reluctance and rose slowly to his feet. Then he took her by the shoulders.

“Never enough, Mistress,” he growled, his eyes burning with lust. “It’s never enough with you.” Leaning down, he pressed a soft, open-mouthed kiss to her lips before taking her hand. “Come, it’s time we were seated.”

Trin followed him in a daze to the swinging seat on the right of Lady Tam-tam and the left of the blonde mistress and her slave.

“Oh my dears, that was lovely! Such a beautiful obeisance,” Lady Tam-tam exclaimed, beaming at Trin. “And the kiss on the mouth at the end…did you teach him that?”

“Um, no. That was…his own idea.” Trin felt flushed all over, her pulse racing and her breath coming short. Why did her body react to the big Havoc this way? Was it simply the embarrassment of having to perform in front of a crowd? Or something else?

Except Thrace was the one doing the performing, wasn’t he? whispered a little voice in her ear. You just stood there and let him act on you…let him do things you know aren’t right.

Trin tried to push it away. What was done was done—the important thing now was just getting through dinner.

“Well, be seated my dears,” Lady Tam-tam directed, nodding at the high-backed chair suspended from the ceiling beside her. “The servers are about to bring the first course—I wouldn’t want you to miss it.”

“Of…of course.” Trin cleared her throat and looked at Thrace. “Let’s be seated.”

“Of course, mistress.” Copying the other couples at the table, the big Havoc seated himself in the swinging chair, which seemed surprisingly stable, and patted his thighs. “Well? Come on, Mistress.”

Trin started to sit down…but then she hesitated. Her dress was still open in front and back, baring her ass and Thrace was still wearing the leather trousers with no crotch. Only the thin black silk loincloth he wore belted around his trim waist covered that area. And it was clear from the hard ridge of flesh rising under the black silk that he was aroused.

“Sorry,” he growled when she looked at him. “Can’t help it. Kissing you makes me hard.”

Lady Tam-tam noticed Trin’s dilemma as well.

“Oh my—it seems your love-slave truly cares for you,” she said, smiling at Trin. “You lucky girl! Don’t be shy—go on and sit in his lap. Ask Lady Needra to your left if you need any pointers.” She nodded at Thrace’s erection significantly and giggled like a naughty school girl.

“Um, thank you, Lady Tam-tam,” Trin said weakly.

She turned her attention to the young blonde mistress she’d noticed earlier who was wearing a purple dress and sitting in her love-slave’s lap. He was large and muscular with brown hair and he appeared to adore his lady—if the way he was cradling her against him was any indication. The mistress seemed to return his affection, snuggling back against him and making happy little murmurs as he cupped her breasts through the thin lace of her dress.

“Hello,” Trin said, since Lady Tam-tam had seemed to want her to talk to them.

“Hi, I’m Needra.” The blonde mistress smiled encouragingly. “And this is my love-slave, Yorth.” She nodded at her slave. “I see your slave has the same problem Yorth did,” she added, nodding at Thrace who was sitting with his legs spread, as though to make room for the hard ridge of flesh rising from between his thighs.

“Yes, um…” Trin cleared her throat. “But it’s all right. I’ll just…sit on his knee or something.”

“Oh, you can’t do that,” Needra said, her eyes wide. “The love chair will over balance if you do and spill you right on the floor! The only way is to sit way back in his lap and, well…I find it works best if you just kind of let his shaft rest between your legs. See?” She twitched a fold of fabric which had been hiding her inner thighs to one side and Trin saw the broad, plum-shaped head of her body-slave’s shaft was resting between her legs, right against the thin panties that covered her pussy.

“Oh…” she said, her eyes going wide. “I didn’t know…”

“Of course, it works best if you just slide him inside your panties,” Needra continued, demonstrating with her own tiny pair of purple panties which matched her dress. Slipping the bottom string of the small garment aside, she slid her slave’s thick shaft inside so that the thin, stretchy material of the panties held him in place against her bare cunt. He was too long to be contained in this way, however, and Trin could plainly see the head of his cock thrusting up over the edge of the panties as the long ridge of flesh rubbed his mistress’s outer pussy lips.

“This way it kinds of holds the shaft against you and you don’t have to worry about him slipping around too much,” Lady Needra said with a giggle. She wiggled against her slave and Trin was shocked to see that his shaft was actually parting his mistress’s outer pussy lips and rubbing against her slippery inner folds.

Oh my Goddess, his shaft is right up against her! If she’s not careful he’s going to penetrate her!

She couldn’t keep the shock from her face but she tried to keep her voice even as she spoke.

“I don’t know…I don’t think we should…I mean, it seems like you might be taking a…a risk there.”

Lady Needra seemed to read her mind.

“Oh, you mean that Yorth here might penetrate me?” she asked and gave Trin a naughty wink. “Well, you know how these things go. I mean, if I lean over and reach for something on the table…” She demonstrated, rising a little way off his lap and reaching casually for a golden goblet which appeared to contain the same blue wine Lady Malroth had been sipping. “And then sit back down without being careful…” she went on, sinking back slowly into her slave’s lap. He gave a low groan and Lady Needra gave an answering moan before looking up at Trin. “Then I suppose it might happen,” she said breathlessly.

Trin bit back a gasp as she saw that the broad head of the slave’s cock was no longer in view—presumably because it was buried in his mistress’s cunt.

“I…I…” She shook her head, unable to speak.

“But of course that’s just an accident,” Lady Needra went on, her eyelids fluttering with obvious pleasure. “And Yorth here knows that he needs to hold very, very still if such an accident occurs. Isn’t that right, Yorth?”

“Yes, Mistress.” Her body-slave’s voice was hoarse but he held perfectly still as Lady Needra sat on his lap, her thighs spread wide to accommodate his girth inside her.

“Because if he moved, you see,” his mistress continued, still speaking to Trin, “If he…thrust inside me for instance—well, it’s hard to explain. You’d better show her what I mean, Yorth.”

“As my lady pleases,” her slave growled. Cupping her breasts, he pinched her pert pink nipples between his thumbs and fingers tightly. Then, with a slow, deep movement of his pelvis, he pushed up, clearly seating his cock as deeply inside his mistress’s pussy as he could.

Lady Needra closed her eyes for a moment and moaned, obviously enjoying the sensation of being filled by her slave. When she opened them again, they were hazy with pleasure. “Thank you, Yorth—that will do.”

“Yes, Mistress.” He subsided, sinking back against the love-chair again.

“You see, if Yorth did that, he would be actually penetrating me on purpose—fucking me.” Lady Needra’s eyes flashed. “But if he holds still, well, it’s just an accident. And as soon as I notice it, I’ll correct it.”

She settled deeper into her slave’s lap for a moment and ground against him, moving her hips and, drawing another groan from his lips, before rising slowly and repositioning his shaft between her pussy lips as before. Only this time, Trin saw, the head of his cock was shiny and wet—clearly he had been to the root inside his mistress’s pussy just now and just as clearly Lady Needra didn’t mind at all. In fact, she had actually seemed to like it.

Goddess of Judgment, how can she like that? How can she enjoy allowing a male to penetrate her pussy? It’s sacrilege…blasphemy…it’s…why is it so hot in here? Trin fanned herself with one hand. Why did she feel so overheated and out of breath when all she’d been doing was standing there, watching with Thrace at her back? Speaking of hot, she could feel his big body like a line of heat down her spine.

“So,” Lady Needra said brightly, looking up at Trina and breaking her train of thought. “What are you waiting for? Sit down.”

“Oh, I can’t…I mean I couldn’t…” Trin began. Then, looking up for a moment, she caught the eye of Lady Malroth who was sitting at one end of the long table closest to her. Lady Malroth’s eyes flashed and she raised a goblet towards Trin and glared. Her meaning was clear. Do it or the deal is off.

“What is the trouble, my dear? Why are you still standing?” Lady Tam-tam’s voice made Trin look away from Lady Malroth. “Are you having trouble getting seated in your chair?”

“It’s just…as I told you, Thrace is my first body-slave…er, love-slave and I just can’t let him…”

“Penetrate you? Oh my no, of course not. Has that naughty Lady Needra shocked you with her little display?” Lady Tam-tam giggled and winked at the blonde mistress who waved her fingers and smiled back.

“Well…yes,” Trin said truthfully. In fact, what she’d just seen had been the single most pornographic display she had ever witnessed in her life. It should have revolted her and turned her stomach. Instead, she felt things low in her belly clench and tighten and her pussy felt wet and swollen with desire. What was wrong with her? Why was she feeling like this? Why wasn’t she having the correct response to the graphic display she’d just witnessed?

“Well, don’t worry,” Lady Tam-tam said comfortingly. “Lady Needra just likes to be shocking—that’s why she’s one of my favorites, you know. She always has the first dreaming suite reserved for her anytime she comes to Dreaming Hills.”

“I see,” said Trin faintly, feeling out of her depth. If Lady Needra had gotten to be a favorite of their hostess by putting on such blatant shows, what hope had she that Lady Tam-tam would be content to watch her simply snuggle with Thrace tonight?

I ought to go right now. Ought to just leave.

But there was her crew to consider. If she didn’t make this sale, she wouldn’t be able to make the payment on her ship. And if she lost The Alacrity, she and all the rest of the people who depended on her would lose their livelihoods.

“Just sit right down on your slave’s lap and don’t be shy,” Lady Tam-tam urged. “I know you’re a first time mistress which makes the relationship between the two of you even more charming. But though he’s such a big brute of a male, I’m certain Thrace there won’t hurt you.”

“Lady Tam-tam is correct,” the big Havoc rumbled, looking up at Trin. “Come, Mistress—let me cradle your body with mine. You know I would never harm you.”

Of course he was simply putting on an act for Lady Tam-tam but the soft way he said the words and the gentle look in his eyes made Trin feel somehow better.

I can do this, she told herself. I can handle it.

“All…all right,” she said at last. Taking a deep breath, she started to settle herself in his lap.

“Wait!” Lady Needra said before Trin’s bare behind could make contact with the tented loincloth between his thighs. “You must remove that first.” She pointed at the black silk cloth. “Your slave must be bare to sit on a love seat with you or you can’t get a comfortable fit.”

“Oh, of course Needra is correct.” Lady Tam-tam nodded sagely. “Go on, my dear—raise the cloth,” she said to Thrace.

The big Havoc kept a completely blank look on his face as he lifted the black silk cloth aside. There were admiring murmurs from Lady Tam-tam and Lady Needra and even Trin bit her lip. She’s seen him before and felt him against her thighs the night before but he’d never seemed quite so huge as he did right now. Huge and throbbing and hard…and all because of her.

“There now—much better,” Lady Tam-tam chirped. “Now just settle yourself down onto him, my dear. And mind you don’t have an accident like naughty Lady Needra there.”

The blonde mistress giggled. “Oh, I don’t know—sometimes accidents are fun.”

No they’re not, Trin thought, feeling her cheeks heat again. Not that kind anyway. It’s wrong. Forbidden.

But why did her stomach feel so strange when she imagined letting the thick shaft rising from between Thrace’s thighs slide between her legs? Part her pussy lips and just…

No—stop it! Just sit down and try not to think about it! she ordered herself.

Feeling that she had no choice, she lowered herself carefully to the huge Havoc’s lap.

Thrace received her without comment and helped her get settled so that his thick shaft was poking out from between her thighs. Looking down and seeing its thickness pressing against the outside of her thin turquoise panties, Trin felt faint. Never had she ever expected to let a male’s equipment anywhere near her sex. And here she was, sitting with Thrace pressed against her so intimately only a thin wisp of lace separated them. She could actually feel the heat of his cock radiating against her pussy lips.

“No, that’s not right,” Lady Needra said before she could really get settled. “Remember I told you, you have to tuck him into your panties.”

“Lady Needra is right, of course.” Lady Tam-tam was watching them avidly. “Go on my dear, follow her instructions.”

“But I…” Trin cleared her throat. “I can’t—”

“Don’t worry, baby,” Thrace murmured for her ears alone. “I know how you feel about it. I promise I won’t penetrate you.”

“You’d better not,” Trin hissed back, keeping her voice low. “If you do I’ll cut off your shaft and feed it to you for last meal!”

He let out a low rumble of laughter.

“I’ll keep it in mind. You’ll remain one of the Unpenetrated.”

“Just hold still,” Trin told him. “And don’t move.”

With trembling fingers, she reached down and pulled the tiny string that connected to the bottom point of the triangle panties to one side. Then, grasping the thick, hot shaft in front of her, she slipped it inside her panties so that the club of his sex rested right against her bare pussy lips.

Trin bit her lower lip. Goddess, she couldn’t believe she was doing this! Thrace was much too long to be contained by her panties. The head and several inches of his shaft stuck up over the lacy top edge of the panties looking completely obscene, especially when it rubbed against her. She kept this area clean shaven so there was nothing to come between them. If only her inner pussy wasn’t already so swollen and drenched with her juices! Though she tried to hold still, she could feel herself parting, the sensitive bud of her clit pressing against his hot shaft though she didn’t want it to.

“Gods,” he whispered hoarsely. “I can feel how hot and wet you are.”

“I am not,” Trin denied although it was a blatant lie.

“You are,” he growled softly. “I can feel your honey coating my cock.”

“It isn’t!” she insisted defensively. “Be quiet and keep your fantasies to yourself!”

Rather than making him angry, her words seemed to worry him.

“Are you okay?” she heard him mutter. “Everything all right, Mistress?”

“Fine. I’m fine,” Trin hissed. But her heart was pounding like it wanted to get out of her ribcage and gallop away. Wrong, this was so wrong. And yet it felt so good…so deliciously hot to feel that long, thick shaft parting her outer pussy lips to rub blatantly against her tender inner cunt and the sensitive bud of her clit. She almost felt like she could come like this with his thickness rubbing against her which was horrible—she couldn’t do something like that in public! She just couldn’t. “I’m fine,” she whispered again, trying to make herself believe it.

“You’re lying,” he muttered. “I can hear your pulse racing and feel your heart pounding. This situation is really bothering you—admit it.”

“Well, this is…it’s not…I never…” Trin couldn’t even go on. She had no words for the swirling confusion filling her right now.

“It’s all right.” He rubbed her back soothingly, while being careful not to move anything below the waist. “I know it feels strange but it’s only once and it’s only for tonight. You’re all right, Trin—you can do this.”

He’s right. It’s just once…just to get this deal done. And no one back home has to know about it.

Trin felt a surge of gratitude for the big Havoc for bringing her back to herself. She lifted her chin and stopped staring at the mesmerizing and obscene sight of his shaft pressed against her pussy, the thick shaft parting her pussy lips and rubbing against her slick core. I’m the captain of a star ship, a businesswoman, occasionally a diplomat. I’ve dealt with strange foreign customs before—I can deal with this too.

She just wished that the strange feelings she had when Thrace touched her intimately would stop. All of her calm and self-possession seemed to leave her when she felt his big, warm body next to hers. It made her doubtful and unsure of herself in a way she hadn’t been since adolescence. Why did she feel this way when he touched her?

Of course, she had no answers. All she could do was cover her lap and the embarrassing sight of his shaft pressed against her with a napkin and try to sit rigidly still, not moving an inch.

“There—now that you’re settled comfortably we can enjoy the first course,” Lady Tam-tam remarked. “We’re starting with nectar pods from Rigex—have you ever had them, my dear?”

“No.” Trin cleared her throat. “No, I haven’t. But they sound tasty.”

“They’re actually quite bland,” Lady Needra said from her left. “But they’re worth trying anyway.”

“I see,” Trin said, not seeing at all. A server reached over her shoulder and placed a heaping spoonful of waxy white pods about as long as her little finger in front of her.

“There now—eat them up,” Lady Tam-tam directed. “And remember to feed every second one to your love-slave. That’s how we do things here,” she explained, smiling. “On the rest of Yonnie Six, the slave has to feed the mistress. Here we turn things on their head and the mistress feeds the slave.”

“So delightfully subversive,” Lady Needra remarked, popping a pod into her mouth and reaching back to feed one to Yorth as well.

“It certainly is,” Trin said, and she wasn’t just talking about the dinner. She picked up a pod with her fingers, since that was how everyone else was eating them, and put it cautiously into her mouth. It tasted vaguely sweet and when she bit into it, a gush of bland, waxy liquid squirted across her tongue. Ugh! It wasn’t very pleasant but Trin had eaten worse when stores got low and they were stuck in deep space without a port nearby. She chewed and swallowed dutifully and then picked up a pod to feed to Thrace.

“How is it?” he asked as she twisted carefully around to place it between his lips.

“Not the best thing I’ve ever tasted,” Trin said under her breath. “But it’s edible. Open up.”

He parted his lips obediently and accepted the waxy pod. He made a slight face when he bit into the pod but he chewed and swallowed without complaint. Trin took another pod for herself and gave another to him. Soon the little pile was gone and the second course, which consisted of a pile of steaming purple mush, was being served.

Trin picked up a long handled instrument which looked like a tiny silver shovel and got a bite of the mush. But before she could taste it, a shadow fell across the table.

“Forgive me, Lady Tam-tam, for my tardiness,” a deep voice said.

Trin looked up startled and saw a male almost as tall as Thrace standing across from her. He had broad, muscular shoulders and black hair with a reddish tint. His eyes were the same strange color—caught somewhere between midnight black and scarlet and a small, cruel smile hovering around his lips.

Unlike the other males in the room, who were all slaves, he was fully dressed in black trousers and a scarlet tunic that looked excellent against his dark tan skin. A black cape that swirled around his broad shoulders and tall black boots that ended above his knees completed the outfit.

“Oh, Lord X—how nice of you to join us,” Lady Tam-tam fluttered. She turned to Trin. “This is the male I told you about—he’s the ruler of a small planet in the Degas system. Isn’t that unique?”

“Very,” Trin agreed, though she could scarcely imagine a whole planet ruled by a male.

“Introduce me to your ravishing friend, I beg you, Lady Tam-tam,” Lord X said, smiling at Trin. “I’ve never seen such lovely skin tones—truly her beauty is unmatched.”

“Well, this is my special guest, Lady Trin,” Lady Tam-tam said. “This is her first time to Dreaming Hills but not her last, I hope.”

Lord X held out his hand and Trin reached out dutifully to take it. There was something about this male she didn’t like, though she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. His touch was cold and when he kissed the back of her hand, his lips were like ice. The chill of his skin belied the heat in his eyes when he looked her over, his gaze lingering overlong on her barely covered breasts.

Trin shifted uncomfortably. Why did it make her feel so strange to have him look at her? His eyes were hungry as he raked his gaze over her body. No other male had ever looked at her like that but Thrace. But she didn’t mind when he did it. Or rather, it made her pulse race and her breath come short but it didn’t repulse her. It was different with Lord X. It felt strange…wrong.

Apparently Thrace didn’t like the way the new male was looking at her either. With a low, possessive growl, he sat up straighter in the love seat and cupped her breasts with his big hands, effectively hiding them from sight.

“Thrace!” she exclaimed. The sudden movement had caused his shaft to shift against her and the heat of his hands against her nipples sent a bolt of sensation through her.

“It’s all right, little mistress, your slave is simply protecting you from prying eyes.” Lord X nodded and gave her that cold smile again. “I don’t mind—I’ve already admired your beauty.”

“My lady’s beauty is not for you,” Thrace rumbled, frowning at him.

“Thrace, you can’t talk to Lady Tam-tam’s guest that way,” Trin admonished him, though she privately agreed with the big Havoc and was relieved to have her breasts hidden from the strange male’s sight. “What brings you to Yonnie Six, Lord X?” she asked diplomatically, looking up at him.

“Why, dream gas, of course. Yonnie Six has the only deposits of it in the known universe, making it incredibly rare and valuable. Most places, like the area around Opulex, they have to mine it. But here on the lovely Lady Tam-tam’s estate, it comes right out of the ground on its own.”

“It does? I didn’t know that.” Trin looked at their hostess.

Lady Tam-tam nodded. “Oh yes, my dear. In fact, Dreaming Hills is built right over the largest natural deposit of dream gas ever discovered. Lord X here is interested in exporting it to other planets. Of course, no one in Opulex will deal with him.”

“Because of my misfortune to be born male instead of female.” Lord X made a sorrowful face. “But if I wasn’t male, how could I appreciate all the lovely females in the room?”

“You don’t have to be male to appreciate the female form. Females can love other females,” Trin said flatly. “It’s done quite often in places such as Zetta Prime.”

“I know I certainly appreciate your form, my lovely.” Lord X gave her that slow, cold smile. “Even if Lady Tam-tam decides not to deal with me, I’ll consider this trip to be worth it, just to see such your exotic beauty.”

Trin could feel the rumbling beginnings of a growl building in Thrace’s broad chest again.

“That’s a lovely compliment,” she said neutrally. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Lord X. I wish you success in all your endeavors.”

“In other words, I am dismissed. Very well…” He bowed elaborately. “I am too late for dinner, anyway. Perhaps I’ll see you later at the dream-sphere fountain.”

“The what?” Trin asked but Lord X was already withdrawing, his black boots ringing on the smooth stone floor.

“The dream-sphere fountain,” Lady Tam-tam said. “It’s on the back grounds—near the place where the dream gas emerges from its vent. We’re going to adjourn there after dinner. I do hope you and your love-slave can be there? I’m only inviting a select group, of course.”

“We’d love to,” Trin said, though she privately doubted she spoke for both herself and Thrace. The big Havoc hadn’t seemed to like Lord X at all—not that she blamed him. There was something strange about that male, something somehow familiar in the way he made her feel. But that was crazy, wasn’t it? Until she’d bought Thrace, Trin hadn’t had more than fleeting contact with any male. So how could she find one familiar?

“Such a lovely male. A pity no one else will deal with him,” Lady Tam-tam remarked.

“Indeed,” Trin said neutrally. Lady Tam-tam turned to speak to someone on the other side of her and she looked down to see that Thrace’s big hands were still cupping her breasts. Strange that while talking to Lord X she had almost forgotten they were there. But now, seeing them again and feeling his warm palms against her nipples made her pulse begin to race.

“He’s gone now,” she muttered to the big Havoc. “You can let me go. And you didn’t have to do that in the first place.”

“Didn’t like the way he was looking at you,” Thrace growled, finally removing his hands. Trin’s nipples peaked immediately in the chilly air and she missed the warmth of his palms, though she would never say so.

“He was looking at me the way you do, that’s all,” she snapped.

“Exactly.” His face was like a thundercloud as he watched the retreating back of Lord X. “I don’t like that son of a bitch. Not one fucking bit.”

Privately Trin agreed but she knew she couldn’t say so in front of Lady Tam-tam.

“Let’s try to forget about him and eat,” she murmured, picking up the long handled miniature silver shovel again. She spooned up a dainty bite of the steaming purple mush. “This looks…delicious. Want some?”

“Hell no,” Thrace grumbled. “But give me a bite anyway.”

Trin did and took some for herself—it was bland for a moment, then packed a sharply sour aftertaste that made her lips pucker. Again, not the best thing she’d ever eaten but not the worst either, though doubtless it was incredibly expensive and rare—imported from some distant world or other.

They went through several more courses, some better than others including a plate filled with long, slippery strips made of the tongue of a cheena bird and a plate of squirming multicolored bugs which Trin point blank refused to taste. Then the main course was brought in through the wide side door, carried on a vast platter by fourteen slaves—seven on each side.

“Oh goody—the shromp!” Lady Tam-tam clapped her hands in anticipation. “You really must try this my dear,” she said to Trin. “It’s such a delicacy! I got it all the way from Rigel 4 and there are only five hundred left in captivity, you know. Well, I guess now four hundred and ninety-nine.” She giggled.

“So…it’s endangered?” Trin asked bluntly, eying the huge creature which was larger than a life pod shuttle.

“And delicious.” Lady Tam-tam smiled, obviously missing the point. “Just look how crispy and brown my head chef got the skin! That’s not easy to do, you know. The shromp must be roasted for forty days at very low heat because of its size.”

“It has six legs,” Trin remarked, staring at the vast, roasted carcass. The chef had adorned the shromp’s crispy brown face with large, yellow glass eyes and it appeared to be staring at her accusingly.

“Six legs, two hearts, and four sex organs,” Lady Tam-ram said happily. “Those last are the real delicacy—I’ve given orders for them to be served exclusively at the high table.”

“I couldn’t possibly—I’m getting so full,” Trin demurred when the server put a piece of shriveled gray tubing on the plate in front of her.

“Oh, you must try it! And give your slave some as well,” Lady Tam-tam declared. “After all, shromp phallus is supposed to be very good for stamina. And I’m sure you’ll be needing that tonight, yes?” She raised an eyebrow at Trin, who felt her cheeks heating.

“I…suppose,” she said hesitantly. “Of course, it’s been a long day. I might just turn in early.”

Lady Tam-tam frowned. “How very disappointing. Most couples who are privileged to stay in one of my famous dreaming suits find they have renewed energy and stamina. Why some of them stay up all night long.”

Trin felt her stomach do a slow flip. “All night long doing what?” she asked bluntly.

It was Lady Needra who answered.

“Oh, you name it,” she said, her eyes twinkling. “Sometimes after I let Yorth here bathe me and caress me with oils, we just lie on the bed and worship each other with our bodies for hours.”

“Worship each other?” Trin asked.

“Oh yes.” The blonde mistress nodded eagerly. “Yorth is especially good with his mouth.” She grinned. “And he just can’t get enough of penetrating me with his tongue. He says I’m yummy.” She giggled.

“I…he…” Trin shifted uncomfortably, a movement which made Thrace’s shaft rub against her slick inner pussy. He gave a low groan from behind her which she tried to ignore. “So you let him…penetrate you that way…that way…?” Too? she somehow managed not to add. It reminded her of what Thrace had said he wanted to do to her and even now she could feel his thick cock throbbing against her clit.

“Of course I do! I mean, oral penetration doesn’t really count, now does it?” Lady Needra said. “Not like, you know…letting him fuck me.” She rose slightly to reach for her wine glass again. When she sank back down, her eyes fluttered closed for a moment and Yorth uttered a low, tortured groan.

Trin wasn’t nearly as shocked this time, though she could still scarcely believe that Lady Needra would allow herself to be penetrated by a male, let alone in public.

“Oh, is she at it again?” Lady Tam-tam remarked, giggling. “That naughty Needra—such an exhibitionist.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Needra’s voice came out low and breathy. “I’m just having some…some wine.” She rolled her hips in a slow, leisurely fashion and Yorth groaned again. “Though I do know some mistresses who let their slaves penetrate them that way,” she added to Trin.

“Is that right?” Trin asked flatly.

Lady Needra nodded eagerly.

“Oh, yes—so shocking! I know one especially who doesn’t even use a barrier between herself and her slave. She lets him slide his hard, naked shaft deep inside her unprotected sex.”

“Does she?” Trin raised an eyebrow. She was trying not to let the performance affect her but all the same, she couldn’t help being hyper-aware of Thrace’s hot shaft throbbing against her slick pussy. They had shifted around so much by now that her outer lips had spread completely open, allowing his thick cock unrestricted access to her inner cunt.

“She does. She lets him fuck her just like that—completely bare,” Needra widened her eyes. “So if the slave goes too far and comes inside her…” She rolled her hips some more and Trin saw Yorth’s big hands squeeze into fists as he apparently fought the urge to move along with her. “Why, all that creamy white cum goes right up inside her tight little pussy,” the blonde mistress ended breathlessly.

Trin’s mouth felt dry and she clenched her own hands into fists as well. Why was it when Needra spoke like this, all she could picture was Thrace thrusting deep inside her own pussy, filling her up?

No, she told herself. It’s degrading and wrong—don’t even think such a thing!

“Gods,” she heard Thrace mutter. When she turned to look at him, she saw that his jaw was clenched and a muscle was jumping in his temple. Was he thinking the same thing she was? Was that why his shaft had suddenly gotten so much harder against her? He was really pressing against her clit hard now and for some reason her pussy had gotten creamy and wet all over again, making her spread around him in a most distressing way.

“I think we’d better try some of this lovely shromp phallus,” she said hurriedly, cutting off a chunk of the gray, shriveled tubing and popping it into her mouth. “Mmm…delicious.”

Which was a total lie. It was chewy and salty and thoroughly disgusting—exactly what she needed to calm the strange thoughts and feelings that threatened to overcome her. She gave a piece to Thrace too, though he didn’t really want it.

“Mmm,” he growled dutifully, chomping on the piece. “Fucking disgusting. Thanks so much, Mistress.” But at least his shaft wasn’t quite so hard against her.

“It’s a delicacy,” Lady Tam-tam remarked. “Especially when combined with the nectar pods you ate earlier, the shromp can have an…interesting effect. They come from the same world, you know.”

“That’s the only reason I eat it,” Lady Needra confided, chewing a piece and giving some to Yorth as well, who still looked considerably too distracted to eat. “Certainly not for the taste but I like the effects.”

“What effects?” Trin stopped with a second piece midway to her mouth and eyed the gray, shriveled meat apprehensively. “What does it do?”

“You’ll see.” The blonde mistress giggled and took another bite. “Just wait, my dear Lady Trin. You’ll see…”

Chapter Nineteen

“What do you think Lady Needra meant when she said the shromp had interesting effects?” Trin whispered later, after dinner was over and they were strolling on the rolling back lawn of the vast estate. They, along with a few other couples, were heading for the dream-sphere fountain, whatever the hell that was.

“No fucking idea,” Thrace growled. He certainly hadn’t noticed any strange effects himself—not that he would have noticed anything, as distracted as he’d been. Even though they were up and walking around, he could still feel the warm, wet spot whereTrin’s pussy had been pressed against his shaft.

Gods! Dinner had been torture—sheer torture. Holding her so closely and intimately, wanting her so badly and being unable to act on it…

Thrace thought it wouldn’t have been so bad if Trin really was as completely disinterested in males as she claimed to be. Then he could have ignored his own feelings. But despite her repeated assertions that she wanted nothing to do with him sexually, her body and scent told a different story.

Havoc, like their Kindred cousins, had an incredibly sensitive olfactory sense. They could actually smell and identify pheromones which other species were manipulated by unconsciously. And Gods help him, Trin was putting out fucking clouds of sex pheromones—filling the air around them with her lust as she sat on his lap and pretended to herself that she had no interest in sex with a male. In sex with him.

Not to mention the way her nipples got so hard and her pussy got so hot and wet when he was pressed against her. If she’d done the little trick Needra had and raised up—even just a little—he was certain he might have slipped into her by accident. She was that wet—that ready to go.

Unbidden, the idea of having her under him, spreading her legs for him, rose in Thrace’s mind. He could imagine her parting for him, reaching up to scratch his shoulders, to pull him in deeper…

Fucking stop it! he told himself angrily. It doesn’t matter what kind of chemicals her body is putting out, if her mind isn’t on board, it’s not going to happen. It’s never going to happen. She’s one of the Unpenetrated, remember?

Besides, why would you want to get involved? You’re just here to do the deal with the crystals, then you’re gone. Back to The Empress and finding Solar and getting on with your life. If you made love with Trin now you’d be sure to bond her to you and Havoc don’t bond!

He glanced briefly at Trin who was walking beside him over the short, well trimmed back lawn. It was true that unprotected sex with her would almost certainly result in bonding. It didn’t always—Havoc were not nearly as easily bound to a chosen female as their Kindred cousins. Making love to her and filling her with his seed wouldn’t result in a permanent soul bond unless there was some deep emotional attachment between them in the first place.

Watching her lovely face and the determined set of her slim shoulders, Thrace knew he couldn’t risk it. It wasn’t just that he desired her—he was beginning to have feelings for his mistress. Feelings that were completely irrelevant since she was never going to let herself care for him.

Get over it, he told himself roughly. She’s never going to change her views on males—she’s a proud female and part of that pride is her dignity. It would never recover if she broke her beliefs for you. Anyway, why would you want her to? You don’t want to form a permanent bond with her any more than she wants one with you. Just do your job and serve her as best you can until this is over and you can get the fuck out!

Thrace looked around him at the other mistresses and slaves walking over the dark lawn, trying to distract his mind from the turmoil inside him. To his left, Yorth was walking with Lady Needra. The two of them were holding hands, smiling at each other like lovers, which they surely were.

Thrace reflected that no matter how hard dinner with Trin on his lap was, the meal had certainly been more difficult for Yorth. He couldn’t imagine the self-discipline it took to sit there while his lady settled herself on his shaft and wiggled her hips, riding him in that leisurely, casual manner while he wasn’t supposed to move a muscle. Still, it didn’t seem to bother Yorth—he was probably used to the little game he and his mistress played together. Thrace reflected with envy that they would almost certainly be playing other, even more erotic games in their sleeping chamber later.

“Look, that must be it.” Trin’s soft voice drew his attention back from the other slave and mistress couple and he looked ahead to see a tall, silver filigree pyramid structure rising before them. It was set in the center of a circular, paved area which sparkled—doubtless made of the same semi-precious gemstones that lined the path which led to the front door of the estate.

“Must be,” he said, nodding assent. “But what the hell is coming out the top of it?”

The silver pyramid’s point was about the level of Thrace’s head and it was shaped like a narrow spout or funnel. From this small opening, large bubbles were drifting. At least, Thrace assumed they were bubbles—they certainly weren’t like any he had ever seen before.

For one thing, weren’t bubbles supposed to be round? These weren’t. Or at least, not all of them were. In addition to a few floating spheres, there were also square, rectangular, and triangular bubbles. There were also a few which didn’t seem to stick to any shape at all but shifted constantly. But perhaps strangest of all, each and every bubble was filled with colored smoke. Pink, blue, purple, orange, scarlet, and even black smoke filled shapes drifted past him, wafted by the gentle breeze.

“What the hell?” Thrace muttered, staring as the soft shapes drifted from the mouth of the tall silver pyramid.

“Dream spheres—unfiltered dream gas,” Lady Needra said, in answer to his question. She and Yorth had stopped right at the edge of the round, gem-encrusted circular path that surrounded the fountain.

“Unfiltered?” Trin asked, frowning. “I thought it had to be purified with Jaxite crystals before it was usable.”

“Oh, that’s just how they do it in Opulex.” Needra shrugged. “That’s so they can use it for vicarious sensory play—you know, feeling like your acting out a book or vid or whatever entertainment medium you want to feel like you’re part of. But dream gas can be filtered through many different mediums to give different effects.”

“And what effect does unfiltered dream gas have?” Thrace asked, adroitly avoiding a smoky pink sphere which came drifting in his direction.

“It’s much more immediate and personal. But as to what it does, it depends on the vein you get—there are several underground which all converge at this fountain,” Needra explained. “Come on—try some!” Leaning forward, she inhaled a triangle shaped bubble filled with sunshine yellow gas and began giggling hysterically. “G-get one, Y-yorth,” she commanded her slave, barely able to get the words out.

Yorth sucked in a pink cube and smiled blissfully. “Mmm, Mistress…” he murmured. “Delicious.”

“My dears, are you enjoying yourselves?” Lady Tam-tam suddenly appeared beside them with Lord X in tow.

“Lady Trin, it’s so lovely to see you again.” Lord X bent low over Trin’s hand in a courtly gesture that made the short hairs on the back of Thrace’s neck stand on end. He didn’t trust the bastard one bit—there was something wrong about him, Thrace just didn’t know what it was yet.

He felt a growl building in his throat and had to suppress the urge to thrust Trin behind him to keep her safe. Only the fact that he knew she would hate such a proprietary and possessive act on his part stopped him.

“It’s… nice to see you too. I—” But before she could say more, Trin accidentally inhaled a rectangular bubble filled with white smoke. Thrace stared at her in alarm as her eyes widened and she froze, her hand still caught in Lord X’s grip. “You…you’re…” She choked, a small plume of white smoke curling from her mouth. “I…I can’t…”

“Trin—are you all right?” Thrace yanked her hand away from the other male and spun her around to face him. Taking her by the shoulders, he stared into her face anxiously. “What’s wrong? What is it?”

“Thrace…” For a moment she relaxed and then her eyes got even wider. “Goddess…you don’t really feel that way, do you?”

“Feel what way? What is she talking about?” Thrace looked at Lady Tam-tam, demanding an explanation.

“Oh, she simply got a bit of truth gas, that’s all.” Lady Tam-tam waved airily. “We call it that because it sometimes reveals someone’s true emotions or intentions. But just as often it’s wrong and only produces a vivid hallucination. Don’t worry, my dear,” she added to Trin. “You’ll be over it in a minute.”

Trin blinked and shook her head like a female coming out of a dream.

“That was…unbelievably odd,” she said in a shaking voice.

“Well, it’s not what I would pick for my first dream sphere experience,” Lady Tam-tam said. “In fact, I think it would be better for you and your love-slave to stick to the scarlet spheres. They’re much better.”

“What do they do?” Thrace asked flatly. They were already in a precarious position—he didn’t want to make it worse by inhaling some strange gas that impaired his judgment.

“Oh, don’t worry my dear—the effects are transitory,” Lady Tam-tam said, without answering his question. “Now go on, try some of the scarlet dream gas. I insist.” She nudged Trin gently toward a triangular bubble passing by which contained swirling scarlet gas.

“I…don’t know.” Trin looked at the bubble with fearful eyes. Clearly her experience with the white dream gas had made her leery of trying any other kind. But just as clearly, Lady Tam-tam, who was now frowning petulantly, was determined that he and Trin try some.

“I’ll do it,” Thrace said roughly. He would try some gas, he decided, but not exactly the kind Lady Tam-tam insisted on. Stepping forward, he inhaled a passing green sphere. The bubble popped on his lips and the smoke drifted into his throat and lungs.

At once a feeling of warm optimism enveloped him. He felt the same way he did after completing a successful run on The Empress—with his pockets full of credit and the entire universe laid out before him.

“Ahh…” He felt a smile spread across his lips and couldn’t stop it. “That’s good—try some, Mistress,” he said to Trin. “It’s all right—they’re not all like the white one.”

“Well…all right.” Trin inhaled a passing yellow bubble. A silly little smile plastered itself across her full lips and she clapped a hand to her mouth.

“What?” Thrace asked her. “What is it?”

“I…I can’t explain it. “She began to giggle. “It’s just…I can’t seem to stop laughing! I feel like I did when I was a little girl and someone tickled me!”

Her laughter was infectious and Thrace felt himself laughing too, despite the fact that feeling of warm optimism caused by inhaling the green dream gas was beginning to fade. Thrace was glad to feel it go. Though it had been a very positive emotion, he didn’t want his judgment clouded. Still, the gas didn’t seem to cause any lasting harm and he was less wary of it than he had been before.

Just then, a cube filled with midnight black gas drifted past his nose. Without thinking about it, Thrace opened his mouth and inhaled it. Lady Tam-tam saw him and put out a hand, her face filled with worry.

“Oh no, my dear—you must avoid the black bubbles at all costs! They are—”

But before she could finish speaking, Thrace felt himself plunged into darkness.

“Kneel,” a horribly familiar voice was barking in his ear. “Kneel before your Master and suck! And you’d better do a damn fine job or it’s the hole for you and you won’t see light for a month!”

Rough hands gripped his head and something thick and hard and hot was shoved past his lips. Thrace gagged, feeling the familiar shame and hatred envelope him. I’ll kill him, he found himself thinking, his fists clenched in helpless rage. Kill him for what he’s done to me…

Suddenly another hand was on him, a small, soft palm was cupping his cheek.

“Thrace?” a worried voice asked—Trin’s voice. All at once, he felt her in his mind, sharing the awful memory or maybe just catching a glimpse of it. “My Goddess,” she breathed. “What’s happening? Why is he…what are you…?”

“Stop!” Thrace jerked away from her, unwilling to let her see his shame. He fell to his knees, coughing harshly, expelling the last of the midnight black gas from his lungs and body, willing the vision of his own private season in Hell to fade.

“What is it? What happened to him?” Trin was down on her knees beside him, her dark eyes filled with anxiety. She looked up at Lady Tam-tam. “What’s wrong with him?”

“Oh my dear, I should have warned you! The black gas is from a vein of nightmare vapor that rises up through this vent along with the dream gas.” Lady Tam-tam looked upset. “It causes horrid visions—bad dreams and memories we would much rather forget are brought to the surface.”

“They are?” Trin looked at him wide-eyed. “Then that…what I saw…”

“A bad dream.” Thrace straightened up, his eyes watering from the coughing fit. He swiped at them and got to his feet. “A really fucking bad one. That’s all.”

Trin didn’t look convinced but she turned back to Lady Tam-tam at once.

“I don’t think my love-slave is well, Lady Tam-tam. I think I’d better take him back to our suite and get him settled in bed.”

“Nonsense.” Lady Tam-tam frowned. “I told you, the effects are transitory. He should be better already.”

“I’m fine.” Thrace took a deep breath, careful not to inhale any bubbles as he did. “It was just…really vivid. That’s all.”

“That nightmare vapor is a problem,” Lady Tam-tam remarked. “I would have had that particular vein sealed off if I could but it runs too close to the love gas and I couldn’t risk losing that strain. It would never do—oh my, no!”

“I’d still like to get back to our suite soon.” Trin still seemed troubled and she kept shooting mistrustful looks at Lord X who was standing beside Lady Tam-tam with a disquieting little smile on his lips. “It’s been a very long day.”

“Of course, my dear,” Lady Tam-tam said soothingly. “But I insist on the two of you trying some of the scarlet gas before you go. You simply must—it’s the best kind.”

Thrace and Trin exchanged a glance. Clearly their hostess wasn’t going to let them leave before they did as she asked. If they tried to leave without trying the scarlet gas, they risked her extreme displeasure as well as losing the deal with Lady Malroth. And speaking of Lady Malroth, she and her body-slave were standing just on the other side of the tall silver fountain. Her sharp eyes were fixed in their direction and a sour looking frown was on her face. A bubble filled with pink dream gas drifted towards her and she batted it away impatiently.

“What does it do?” he asked, turning his attention back to Lady Tam-tam. “I’ll try it but I don’t want a repeat performance of the nightmare gas.”

“Oh no, my dear—it’s not like the nightmare vapor at all. Just try it—you’ll see—it’s lovely.”

Trin looked at him and held out a hand.

“Together?” she asked in a low voice.

“Well…all right.” Thrace took her hand reluctantly. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to hold hands with her, but he was afraid she might see something she shouldn’t. Still, he could understand her unwillingness to try the gas again alone.

“That’s the spirit!” Lady Tam-tam said enthusiastically. “Here come two good ones. Go on and try them!”

Two bubbles, one shaped like a rectangle and the other a sphere and both filled with scarlet smoke drifted towards them.

Thrace leaned forward and captured the sphere at the same time Trin sucked in the rectangle. The shapes popped on their lips and the scarlet gas swirled down their throats.

At once, Thrace felt a surge of what could only be described as lust—a lust as hot as fire—rush through him, tingling over his body like flames, igniting his senses and setting his nerves alight with desire. His shaft was suddenly rock hard, his need insurmountable.

And there was Trin, standing beside him wearing the revealing dress with see-through lace that barely covered her full breasts and the tiny triangular panties which couldn’t quite hide the plump lips of her pussy. Gods, he wanted her! His shaft was rock hard and aching to take her, aching to thrust deep into her sweet, warm depths and plant his seed so that she would be his, his forever…

He was already reaching for her before he was able to make himself stop.

Can’t do this—can’t have her, he reminded himself, struggling with the sudden haze of lust that clouded his mind. She doesn’t want me—doesn’t like males. She—

And then Trin was in his arms of her own volition. She reached for him and climbed him like a tree, her arms wrapping around his neck and her legs around his waist as she pressed her mouth to his.

For a moment Thrace was stunned by her hungry kisses. Then he grabbed for her, filling his hands with her full, bare ass, drew her even closer, and kissed her back. Gods, she felt good against him! So soft and lush and feminine—so utterly perfect and right! And her scent—Gods, it was hotter than he’d ever smelled it! He fed on her mouth, kissing her deeply, sucking her tongue between his lips.

“Thrace…Thrace,” she moaned, breaking the kiss. “Goddess, I want…I need…”

“Know what you need, baby,” Thrace growled. She was hot against him, her body throbbing with the same fire that was consuming him. He wanted nothing more than to shove the black loincloth he wore aside and thrust inside her slippery depths.

Need to fill her, he thought, pulling her closer and reaching down with one hand to raise the cloth. Need to part that sweet pussy with my shaft and fill her all the way up, come inside her, make her mine. Need to bond her to me…

But suddenly Trin stopped writhing in his arms and held perfectly still.

“Thrace?” She sounded uncertain.

Thrace’s head began to clear as well.

“Trin? I mean, Mistress?” he muttered. Gods, what had he been going to do? Fuck her? Take her right here in front of everyone? Break her pride because of his need? Because of his own selfish urges to satisfy the lust that had suddenly overwhelmed him?

Not only that—you were going to bond her, whispered a little voice in his head. Bond her to you forever. Just forget the Havoc code and everything you’ve ever stood for and tie a female to you for life. What in the Seven Hells is wrong with you?

“Thrace?” Trin asked again, her voice unsteady. “What are we doing? I mean…” He was still holding her in his arms with her legs wrapped around his waist. Now she looked down and her eyes widened.

Thrace followed her gaze and saw how close they’d come to betraying themselves. The ridiculous black loincloth that was part of his slave outfit had gotten twisted to the side, leaving his shaft free. He was hard as a rock, standing at attention and Trin was pressed against him. The tiny turquoise panties she wore had also been pushed to the side and her full, swollen pussy lips were enveloping his hard shaft.

Thrace saw with some relief that he hadn’t actually entered her, but he wasn’t far from it either. The head of his cock emerged from the top of her slit and he was leaking precum which was running down to coat the inside of her tender, bare pussy.

“Oh my sweet Goddess of Judgment,” Trin whispered unsteadily. “What…what did we just do?”

“Nothing,” Thrace growled. “Yet.”

“Or ever.” She squirmed to get out of his arms, which only made him harder. “Let me go!”

“Give me a minute!” Thrace half groaned. For a second he was afraid he was going to blow his load all over her flat belly. Then he somehow regained control of himself, set her back on her feet, and stepped away though it was the last thing he wanted to do.

* * * * *

Trin straightened her panties, her hands shaking with embarrassment. Goddess, what else could happen tonight? This was horrible—humiliating! Not to mention incredibly confusing. Why had she reacted that way to him? What was wrong with her?

“Are you all right, my dear?” Lady Tam-tam sounded concerned but she had a naughty little smile on her face, like someone who had gotten exactly what they wanted.

She knew, Trin thought, her face getting hot. She knew what it would do to me—to us—to try the scarlet bubbles. She made us try it on purpose because she wanted to watch.

Somehow, nothing had quite prepared her for the realization. Though Lady Malroth had warned her their hostess was a voyeur and she had clearly condoned Lady Needra and her graphic displays, somehow Trin hadn’t quite believed that Lady Tam-tam could or would do such a thing. To deliberately drug her—or have her and Thrace drug themselves—so she could watch them lose control…well, it was too much. Just too much.

“We tried the gas and now we have to go,” she said, trying to keep her voice from shaking. “I…I don’t feel well. Not at all.”

“Of course you may go.” Lady Tam-tam’s eyes were shining with interest. “You should go back to the room and avail yourself of the bathing facilities—a nice hot bath and massage should make you feel like new again.”

“Thank you,” Trin said stiffly. She wanted to shout and rage at their hostess—to condemn her for her inexcusable awfulness but she knew she couldn’t. Lady Malroth was watching with a smug smirk on her face. Trin had to remind herself again that if the deal for the crystals fell through, she and everyone who depended on her would be out on the street.

Have to get out of here. Just have to go! she thought wildly.

Turning, she began to run across the lawn but the stupid heels she had on tripped her and she nearly fell. Only Thrace’s hand under her arm saved her.

“Stop it!” Trin tried to shove away from him but he wouldn’t let her go. “Let go of me!”

“No,” he said in a low voice. “You’re upset and in no shape to walk in those ridiculous shoes. They might be lower than the ones from this morning but they’re still not made for running.” Ignoring her protests, he swung her up into his arms and carried her across the rolling lawn towards the vast, sprawling mansion.

Trin wanted to fight him but suddenly all the strength seemed to have left her body. She collapsed against him, pressing her face to the place where his broad shoulder met his neck and breathed in the dark, spicy scent of his skin. It comforted her for some reason she couldn’t understand, bringing her a small measure of calm even though she felt like she was falling apart.

“What’s wrong with me?” she whispered as he carried her through the long marble hallways of Dreaming Hills. “Why did I act like that? Why couldn’t I control myself?”

“Not your fault,” Thrace rumbled, answering her though she had been mostly talking to herself. “It was that damn dream gas. If I had to guess, I’d say the red kind makes you horny as hell. No wonder Lady Tam-tam wanted us to try it.”

“But I’m one of the Unpenetrated,” Trin exclaimed, lifting her head to look at him. “And I didn’t even care! In one more minute I was going to…going to…” She blushed, unable to go on, unable to say how she had longed to join with him, to have his body pressed to hers, filling her, fucking her…Wrong…so wrong…

“I know. Me too,” he said softly, looking into her eyes. “I wanted you so fucking badly I thought I was going to die. Never wanted a female like that before. Ever.”

I’ve never wanted a male at all. Not before tonight. Not like that.

But she couldn’t say it out loud. Neither could she keep looking into his eyes—her stomach did a slow flip at the intensity of his gaze.

“I…” Trin dropped her eyes. “I just…”

“Wasn’t your fault,” he said again, when she couldn’t finish her sentence. “It was Lady Tam-tam.”

“What’s wrong with her?” Trin asked as he carried her into their suite and kicked the door shut behind them. “Why is she like that? Wanting to watch people…embarrass themselves like that?”

Thrace sighed and sat down on the edge of the sleeping platform, still holding her in his arms.

“My guess? She’s lonely. She lost her own love-slave cycles ago and she still misses him. She wants to relive what she once had with him by watching other people do the things she loved to do with him—a vicarious thrill. Sad, but it’s all she has left.”

Trin looked up at him, surprised at his insightful analysis of the situation.

“You almost sound like you don’t blame her for what she made us do. Or…almost made us do.”

He frowned. “No, I blame her all right. I never would have forgiven myself if I’d hurt you. And that fucking gas made me so hot I couldn’t see straight.”

“Me too,” Trin confessed in a low voice. “I…I never would have done…what I did otherwise.” Suddenly she realized he was still holding her and she sat up and slid off his lap, putting some much needed distance between them.

“I know you wouldn’t…Mistress.” Thrace sighed and looked away. “So what now? Do you want to keep playing her game or give up and go?”

“You mean…” Trin put her arms around herself protectively. “You think she’ll want to see more? Even after that display we put on by the dream-sphere fountain?”

“Especially after the display we put on.” He raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t you hear her? ‘You should avail yourself of the bathing facilities’ he mocked in a surprisingly good imitation of their hostess. “‘A nice hot bath and massage should make you feel like new again.’”

Trin was torn between laughter and anxiety.

“My Goddess, you’re right,” she whispered. “She all but ordered me to take a bath.”

“No, she ordered me to give you a bath,” Thrace corrected her. “The question is, do you want me to? Or do you want to go?”

Trin bit her lip. “If we go, everything will all be for nothing. Lady Malroth will make sure I can never trade on Yonnie Six again and there’s no other market for Jaxite crystals. I’ll lose The Alacrity and all my crew will go begging.”

“Well, you’ll get to keep me, at least.” Thrace gave her a crooked little smile.

“That’s right.” Trin sighed. “You won’t let me give you your freedom until the debt is paid.”

“Damn right, I won’t.” He frowned. “Not that I could ever really fully repay you. But this is a start at least.”

“So…” Trin bit her lip. “You wouldn’t mind…”

“Trin…” Thrace cupped her cheek and looked into her eyes. “You’re not seriously going to ask me if I mind washing you and running my hands over your sweet, naked body, are you?”

Trin drew a deep breath and lifted her chin. Time to speak bluntly. “I know you don’t mind but will it be safe to do this? Especially when you…desire me the way you say you do.”

“Don’t worry,” Thrace said, frowning. “That was just the dream gas. I can control myself, no matter how badly I want you.” He looked into her eyes. “You can trust me, Trin,” he said softly. “I’ll never take what you don’t want to give.”

“Good. That makes me feel better.” She sighed. Everything to do with males was so complicated! Even back when she was still trying to date her own sex, she’d never felt the need to have a conversation like this. But Thrace was so huge—so much bigger and stronger than her it seemed necessary. Especially now that he was no longer wearing the pain collar. Not that she felt like he needed one but still…

“Well then…should we begin?” He rose from the sleeping platform and sketched a little bow. “I’ll run your bath, shall I, Mistress?”

“Yes, I…I suppose so.” Trin bit her lip as he disappeared into the fresher. Was she actually going to get naked into a warm bath and let the big Havoc run his hands all over her nude body?

From inside the fresher, she heard water begin to splash in the tub.

Oh Goddess, it seemed she was.

Chapter Twenty

The water was steamy and just this side of too hot but Thrace didn’t think Trin would mind. She was going to need to be relaxed to let him do this and the heated water swirling around her should do the trick. He hoped, anyway. He couldn’t wait to touch her…to run his hands all over her warm, naked, soapy body but he knew how nervous she was about it.

Soon the big black marble tub was filled with hot water and pale pink bubbles. These had come from a softly floral scented bath solution he’d found on the sink. It smelled good so Thrace had dumped it in and this was the result. He hoped she liked it. Surveying the bubble filled tub, he nodded to himself and went to get her.

Trin was sitting on the side of the sleeping platform biting her lip, her legs tightly crossed and her hands clenched tightly in her lap. The look on her face said she wasn’t looking forward to this…not one little bit.

Thrace felt his heart twist in his chest at her obvious anxiety. Gods, he wished she could just relax and enjoy this! More than anything he wanted to bring her pleasure, wanted to serve her as a real love-slave would serve his mistress. He wanted to caress her, to soothe her, to make her so relaxed she purred under his touch and moaned for more. But could he do it?

I’m damn well going to try! He swore silently to himself that he would wipe that nervous look off her lovely face and replace it with one of bliss if he possibly could. He wanted to make this a night she would always remember…a night she would never want to forget.

“Mistress?” he said softly and she looked up with a start. “Mistress,” he murmured again. “Your bath is ready.”

“Oh…all right. Then I guess I’d better…” She got off the sleeping platform and started to undress but Thrace stopped her.

“Let me,” he murmured. “Let me do everything for you, tonight. Let me take care of you.”

Trin looked at him wonderingly, her face suddenly clear.

“You really want to, don’t you? This isn’t just an act to you.”

“Of course I want to.” Thrace tried to make his words light and teasing. “I’m your slave, Mistress…your love-slave. And a good slave always wants to take care of his mistress.”

Before she could reply, he was unfastening the straps that held her dress in place. He unsnapped the front panel of lace which covered her breasts and let it hang free and then pushed the rest of the gown down her full hips to puddle in a small heap at her dainty feet.

Trin shivered and crossed her arms over her breasts protectively but she made no move to stop him when Thrace knelt at her feet and hooked his fingers through the thin strings that served as the sides of her panties. Slowly he drew them down, revealing her warm, ripe pussy at last.

Gods, she looked beautiful with her plump, naked lips on display, berry dark in the center of her thighs! She smelled amazing too—her soft, feminine fragrance made him half crazy. He had the sudden urge to press his face to the place between her thighs and breathe her in while marking her with his own scent. Marking her as his for all time. Then he would spread those juicy outer pussy lips and take a long, slow taste of her creamy inner cunt…

No!

Thrace knew he couldn’t do that—any of it. Trin was allowing him to do this—to bathe her and handle her naked body—because she trusted him. One wrong move could lose that trust which was the last thing he wanted. But Gods, he wished he could do something to bring her pleasure…something to show her how much he felt for her…

A sudden flicker in the corner of his eye caught his attention. The darkened viewscreen across from the bed had begun to glow. Suddenly, Thrace had an idea.

“Mistress,” he said, looking up at her. “May I make obeisance to you?”

* * * * *

“What…what do you mean?” Trin looked at him uncertainly. “You mean…like you did when we were announced before the feast?”

Slowly, he nodded.

“I want to show my respect to you before I bathe you,” he murmured and his eyes flicked to the viewscreen on the wall opposite the sleeping platform. Though it had been dark when they came in, Trin saw that it was on now and glowing a soft blue. Was someone on the other side of it watching them? Was that why Thrace was asking to “make obeisance” to her? And should she allow it?

Well, you’re about to allow his hands all over you while he bathes you, a little voice in her head pointed out. Might as well allow this too. After all, Lady Tam-tam expects a show and if she doesn’t get one that pleases her, all this will be for nothing.

With that rationalization in mind, she nodded slowly.

“I…suppose you may.”

“Thank you, Mistress,” Thrace rumbled and Trin braced herself, expecting him to lean forward and kiss between her thighs, as he had in the banquet hall. Instead, he rose so that he was standing before her. Leaning down, he tilted her chin up and took her lips in a soft, breathless kiss as tender as his earlier kisses by the dream sphere fountain had been savage.

Despite her inward resolve to simply hold still and allow this without participating, Trin couldn’t help kissing him back. She wasn’t sure if this was proper during the obeisance or not but she didn’t really care. His mouth on hers was so warm and gentle…so addictive. She couldn’t help returning the sweet caress of his lips and twining her tongue with his—he tasted of some exotic spice she couldn’t name. The kiss ended much too soon, as far as she was concerned.

Before she had fully caught her breath, Thrace sat on the sleeping platform before her and put his hands on her hips. He slid them up until they were on either side of her breasts.

“Mistress?” he murmured, looking into her eyes, making the title a question.

Trin knew what he was asking.

“Yes,” she whispered, nodding her head. “Go…go ahead.”

Without another word, he cupped her bare breasts in his big, warm hands and bent his head to place a soft, hot kiss on her right nipple.

Trin bit back a gasp as she felt the heat of his mouth against her sensitive bud. He didn’t lick or suck her at all but the kiss was definitely open mouthed and she could feel his warmth surrounding her as he took his time, kissing her naked nipple as slowly and tenderly as he had kissed her mouth.

When he at last moved on to her left nipple, Trin’s breathing was getting fast and her pulse was racing. Goddess, she shouldn’t be letting him do this! Shouldn’t let a male put his mouth on her body this way! And yet, she felt helpless to tell him to stop. Helpless to do anything but watched as he enveloped her left nipple, covering it completely in a warm, wet kiss that made her knees feel weak.

Her heart was pounding when Thrace at last drew back and released her breasts. He slid to the floor before her so that his mouth was level with her inner thighs, as it had been when he removed her panties.

“Mistress?” he asked again, looking up at her.

Goddess… Trin clenched her hands into fists as tension flowed through her. Shouldn’t do this…shouldn’t let him…And yet the viewscreen was glowing blue…someone was watching. Someone was expecting a show. In order to stay in Lady Tam-tam’s good graces, she had to give them one.

She told herself that was the only reason she nodded her ascent. That and the fact that he had been utterly respectful while kissing her breasts. He hadn’t tried to suck her nipples into his mouth—which she could not have allowed. Instead he had kissed her gently and carefully and if she’d felt his tongue on her, well, it was only a small flicker, as if he couldn’t help tasting her just a little bit.

That was why she didn’t gasp or try to move away when he moved closer and put a hand on her inner thigh.

“Mistress,” he murmured, looking up at her. “Would you spread your legs for me a little? I can’t reach you otherwise.”

Trin bit her lip.

“You…you reached me just fine before, when you paid obeisance before the feast,” she pointed out breathlessly.

“Yes…” Thrace’s silver-blue eyes were half-lidded with lust. “But then I was only kissing your panties. This time I am paying obeisance to your pussy and I want to do it properly.”

“I…you do?” Trin wished her voice didn’t come out sounding so high and girly. She tried again. “What do you mean by…properly?” she made herself ask in a somewhat lower and more steady tone.

“I must worship your entire pussy—must pay obeisance to both your outer pussy lips and your inner cunt,” he rumbled, looking up at her. “As is proper and right.”

“I…I don’t think…”

“You know I’ll be gentle,” he promised, stroking her inner thigh with one big, warm hand. “And I swear it will just be a kiss—I won’t penetrate you, not even with my tongue. I’ll treat your pussy with the same reverence and respect I used towards your mouth and nipples, Mistress.”

“Well…” Trin could feel herself weakening. Surely it couldn’t hurt to let him do this, she reasoned with herself. Not when it was just a kiss and he wasn’t even using his tongue. “All right,” she said at last and Thrace gave her a slow smile.

“Thank you, Mistress,” he murmured. “Now, please spread yourself for me.”

Trin did as he said, though it made her blush to do so. She opened her thighs for him, allowing him better access to her pussy. But this clearly wasn’t enough for Thrace.

With a low growl, he lifted her right thigh and placed it over his broad, left shoulder.

Trin gasped and had to keep her balance by grabbing his other shoulder with one hand. At the same time, she could feel that the new position had opened her considerably. Looking down she saw that her outer pussy lips were spread wide, showing the creamy inner part of her cunt which was already wet with her juices.

A male! A male made you that way—made you wet. Made you want him, want his kiss and more, whispered a condemning little voice in her brain.

“Goddess!” Trin whispered. Unable to look, she closed her eyes on the shameful sight. But then she heard Thrace calling her.

“No, baby,” he said softly when she opened her eyes to look at him. “Watch me do this…watch me honor your sweet little pussy…watch me pay obeisance to your cunt.”

“Thrace…” she whispered and found that once again, she was caught in the trap of his silver-blue gaze, completely unable to look away.

“That’s right, Mistress,” he murmured, leaning towards her, never taking his eyes from hers. “Watch me honor you.”

Then his hot, open mouth was connecting with her trembling pussy, bathing her in heat, making Trin gasp and then moan as she felt his warmth envelope her, claming her completely.

The kiss seemed to last forever, even longer than the ones he’d placed on her lips and nipples. As before, he didn’t attempt to suck her in any way but Trin did feel the lightest flicker of his tongue over the sensitive bundle of nerves at her center. She moaned and jumped but didn’t pull away. It felt too good and the sight was too hypnotic. Goddess, she couldn’t believe she was letting him do this and yet she couldn’t get enough of it!

Thrace deepened the kiss for a moment and just for an instant she thought she felt his tongue press against her more fully. Then he was pulling away, his lips shiny with her juices, his eyes filled with need.

“Thank you, Mistress,” he said hoarsely. “Thank you for allowing me to honor you.” He licked his lips slowly and then rose from the floor. “And now, it’s time to get you in the bath.”

Trin gasped when the big Havoc swept her up in his arms again. She supposed she ought to be getting used to this mode of transport by now—after all, he didn’t seem to mind carrying her and he did it quite often. Still, this was the first time he’d carried her when she was completely nude.

It’s fine. I’ll be fine, she told herself nervously. But her stomach told a different story, quivering like a thousand shimmerflies had taken off inside it at once. Thrace was still bare chested and his skin felt warm—almost hot against her own. But not nearly as hot as the water when he slid her gently into it.

Trin hissed as the steam rose around her.

“Are you trying to bathe me or boil me?” she asked, trying to keep her tone light.

“I thought it would help you relax,” he murmured. “Would you like me to add some cold?”

“No…no this is good.” She sighed and twisted her hair up on top of her head before it could get all wet. “I’ll get used to it.”

“I won’t,” Thrace said, his eyes still half-lidded. “I could never get used to seeing your beauty revealed like this. Never get used to worshiping you with my mouth.”

“Thrace…” She tried to laugh but it came out sounding breathy. “You don’t…don’t have to talk like that. The room probably isn’t wired for sound, remember?”

“Not saying it because of that.” He nodded at the softly glowing blue viewscreen mounted on the wall across from the tub. “Saying it because I mean it. You’re fucking beautiful, Trin.”

“Thank you.” She looked down at the pink bubbles that dotted the surface of the water. Goddess, why did his eyes on her make her feel so hot and cold all at once? She’d been desired by others before—her creamy brown skin made her an exotic beauty and more than one classmate and acquaintance back at the Academy was eager to get to know her and possibly do more. But none of those admirers had made her feel like this—like she was the center of their universe and they would do anything to pleasure her.

“I supposed it’s time to get you washed.” He picked up a bottle of something pink and squirted some of it into his hands. “This okay? It’s the same stuff that made the bubbles.”

“Sure…fine.” Honestly, Trin didn’t care what he used on her. The only thing she could concentrate on was that his big, warm hands were going to be sliding all over her body. She felt so nervous she could barely breathe. In fact, every muscle in her chest felt tight…especially the ones around her breasts. Trin frowned. What the hell was going on? Why did she feel this way?

Probably just nervous, she told herself as Thrace began rubbing her neck and shoulders with long, slow strokes. At once she began to feel less anxious. Goddess, it felt amazing! Slowly she could feel the tension beginning to leave her body…well, most of it anyway. Her nipples still felt tight and stiff and achy. But still, the rest of her was starting to feel like melted butter.

How could he do that to her? Trin didn’t know…and she didn’t care. She simply sighed and let his magic hands do their trick. He worked on her back and shoulders and arms, moving down to her hands and massaging each palm and finger in turn until Trin felt like she’d never been so relaxed in her life. When he finally returned to her neck, her eyes were half closed with pleasure.

“Moving lower now,” he murmured in her ear.

Good, she thought but couldn’t say. Instead she simply nodded her head as his hands slid down to cup her breasts in the warm, soapy water.

“Going to wash your breasts now, Mistress,” he growled softly. Long fingers caressed her full globes with slow, gentle strokes and then plucked at her nipples, making her gasp with sensation.

In fact, there was too much sensation. Trin moaned and jerked, making a miniature wave in the pool that spilled over the opposite side.

Thrace stopped at once.

“Too much?” he murmured in her ear.

“A…a little,” Trin confessed. “I don’t know why, I’m just so sensitive there all of a sudden.” It was true—her nipples were tight and achy and her breasts were beginning to feel fuller somehow. But that didn’t make any sense, did it? Trin shrugged it off—she was probably just still nervous at letting him touch and bathe her this way. “I’m sorry,” she said, turning her head to look at him. “I just…”

“It’s all right,” Thrace said soothingly. “I still have other places to wash.”

Trin shivered as she considered what ‘other’ places he might be talking about. She expected him to reach under the water and cup her pussy at once.

But Thrace surprised her again. He went around to the opposite side of the large, square tub and reached for her feet. He had found some kind of glove with soft bristles attached to it and he began to use it on her lower legs.

“Oh!” Trin couldn’t help gasping as he washed her toes and she burst into a helpless fit of giggles when he scrubbed the soft bristles over the sole of her foot. “Thrace, no!” she cried, still giggling. “That…that tickles!”

He grinned at her, his strong features full of teasing fun.

“Is that right? What a shame, Mistress.” And he grabbed her other foot and began scrubbing it as well.

“Thrace! Thrace, please!” Trin couldn’t remember the last time she’d laughed so hard. She kicked with her free foot, spraying him with pink bubbles which landed on his bare chest and shoulders.

“That was very naughty, Mistress,” Thrace growled and retaliated by catching her free foot and holding her by her ankles so he could scrub both feet at once.

“No! No, please!” Trin was laughing so hard her stomach hurt. “Please—I can’t breathe.”

Thrace stopped at once but kept hold of her ankles.

“Do you yield, Mistress?” he growled, smiling at her.

“Yes.” Trin took a deep, gulping breath and tried to still her heart. She could still feel little giggles bubbling up from inside, however, and it was hard to keep a straight face.

“Good.” Thrace’s voice turned suddenly caressing and he bent and planted a gentle kiss at the top of her foot. “Because I’m ready to wash you a little higher now.”

“Higher?” The laughter was suddenly all gone, replaced by a deep heat which blossomed in her belly at the sight of his half-lidded eyes.

“Between your thighs,” he murmured. “I think you need to be washed there. Are you ready to let me do it?”

“Y-yes,” Trin whispered, having trouble getting the words out.

“Good,” he murmured. “Come to me, Trin. Come here and let me wash you.”

She slid slowly to the other side of the tub, noticing how the water lapping against her tight, sensitive nipples made her shiver. Goddess, she felt so strange inside. Hot and cold and breathless…

There was a seat at this end of the tub that raised her up so that the water came only to her waist. At Thrace’s instruction, she settled on it with her back against the tub and waited as he reached around her. Once again she had the sensation of being completely surrounded by him, his broad shoulders on either side of hers, his cheek close to her face as he ran big, warm hands down under the water to stroke her upper thighs. His warm, spicy scent enveloped her, making her feel safe and incredibly hot at the same time.

“Spread for me now,” he murmured in her ear as he reached for her. “Spread your thighs open for me baby and let me wash your pussy. Let me make you all clean.”

Those hot words spoken in his deep, growling voice seemed to do something to Trin. She could feel herself tingling all over but especially between her legs and at the tips of her breasts, which felt fuller and more sensitive than ever. The bubbles had mostly dissipated now and she could clearly see his big hands through the warm water as she spread for him, as she opened herself fully to let him wash her…to let him touch her.

“So beautiful,” Thrace murmured in her ear as he cupped her naked mound with one large hand. “So fucking gorgeous, baby.”

“I…I told you before, I’m not your baby. I’m your mistress,” Trin whispered breathlessly.

“You’re my mistress when you command me and when we’re out in public with everyone watching,” he murmured. “But when it’s just the two of us and I’m taking care of you, you’re baby. My sweet, soft baby girl that I want to pleasure and take care of and serve. Want to make you feel so good you can’t stand it…want to hear you moan my name and beg me for more as you come and come…”

“Thrace,” she objected, wiggling uncomfortably. “That’s…I can’t describe how that makes me feel but…but we never said anything about me, uh, coming. In fact, I don’t…don’t think it would be a good idea.”

“You don’t want to come?” As he spoke, he spread her outer pussy lips with his index and ring fingers. She gasped as the heated water rushed in to caress her clit. And then slowly, gently, his long middle finger slipped into her wet folds and began to stroke. “You sure about that, baby?”

“Oh!” Trin threw back her head, resting it against his broad shoulder as he continued to caress her with the lightest touch imaginable, tracing her throbbing clit again and again in slow, tender strokes. For some reason the pleasure he was giving her seemed to make her breasts ache and throb, a sharp sensation that was almost painful in his pleasurable intensity.

“Tell me again how you don’t want to come, Mistress,” Thrace growled softly in her ear. “Is it because you don’t really want a male touching you? Because you can’t admit that a male could bring you pleasure?”

“I…you know it’s not…not that,” Trin gasped, although to tell the truth, that was certainly part of it. But there was another, deeper reason she didn’t want Thrace to give her the ultimate pleasure. Trin was afraid if she gave him her body, if she trusted him so completely that she let him make her come, she might lose her heart as well—well, at least part of it. “I can’t,” she gasped as the sweet torture went on and on. “I…I shouldn’t…”

“Shouldn’t do what?” he murmured. “Shouldn’t spread your legs and let me finger your pussy? Shouldn’t let me pet your soft little clit until you come in my hand?”

“Thrace,” she begged. “Thrace please, I think…think we should stop.”

But this time she wasn’t just asking out of fear—or not fear for her heart. As he touched her, her breasts and nipples had been feeling more and more full and sensitive. Now they felt so ripe—Trin couldn’t think of any other word that fit—she felt like she might burst.

“Something’s wrong,” she gasped, closing her legs and sitting up. “What’s wrong with me?”

“I think you were just about to come,” he said dryly, withdrawing his hand. “Nothing wrong with that.”

“No, it’s not…that’s not where the problem is. It’s my…” Trin looked down at her chest and gave a frightened gasp. “Oh my Goddess, what’s wrong with me?”

Her breasts were clearly bigger than they had been—but that wasn’t what made her so frightened. Her nipples, which normally went berry dark when she was aroused, were now a dark, angry red.

“What…what is wrong with me?” she whispered, horrified and scared to death. “What’s happening to me?”

Thrace reached out a finger and gently stroked one scarlet-tipped nipple, sending a wave of intense sensation through her entire body.

Trin gasped. “Oh!”

“Beautiful,” he said thoughtfully. “And obviously very sensitive.”

“But what’s causing it?” Trin was nearly crying now. Not only was she scared but her breasts seemed to be getting fuller by the moment—they actually ached and her nipples were so red and sensitive she felt that even the lightest touch was too much to bear.

“I don’t know, but we’re going to find out.” Thrace got up and went over to the viewscreen mounted on the wall across from the tub which still glowed a soft blue. With a few gestures he had called up a lightboard which projected from the bottom of the viewscreen onto the counter below. Trin watched as he began to key her symptoms into a search engine but before he could finish typing, a block of text and some images suddenly appeared on the screen.

Thrace scanned them rapidly, frowning all the time. Trin was too far away to see.

“What? What does it say?” she demanded in a shaking voice.

“Hmm…remember the schromp we ate at dinner? And how Lady Tam-tam and Lady Needra both told us we’d have interesting effects from it?”

“Oh my Goddess…I’d forgotten all about that!” Trin felt sick. “How could they let us eat that and not warn us!”

“Are you kidding?” Thrace threw a look over his shoulder. “Look where we are.”

“You’re right.” Trin put a hand to her forehead. “They probably wanted this to happen.”

“Wouldn’t be surprised.” Thrace was still scanning rapidly. “According to this, the nectar pods and the schromp cause a reaction in the female body but it’s not activated until she’s submerged in hot water. The heat from the water acts as a catalyst and causes her nipples to become extremely sensitive—as sensitive as her clit.”

“They’re sensitive all right.” Trin gave a shaky laugh which was more than half sob as she looked down at her swollen scarlet nipples. “What can we do about it? Will it help for me to get out of the tub?”

“Can’t hurt.” Thrace came over and opened a towel for her—a big, fuzzy, white one made of incredibly soft, absorbent material. It was almost as large as a blanket. Trin stepped out of the bath and he wrapped her up in it. She dried off immediately and as completely as she could, then she looked down at her chest where her breasts were as full as ever—maybe fuller.

“This isn’t helping. And ouch!” She had to unwrap the towel and pull it down to her waist to bare her chest. “It’s too rough,” she gasped. Even though the fabric felt as soft as feathers to her fingers, it was like sandpaper to the sensitive tips of her breasts.

“Is it painful?” Thrace looked concerned. “Are you hurting, baby?”

“I…I’m okay,” Trin said uneasily, which wasn’t exactly true. Her breasts still felt ripe to the point of bursting and her nipples were tight scarlet points that ached with some need she couldn’t name. “That article you found—” she began.

“You mean the one that was sent to me. To us,” Thrace corrected her grimly. “It popped up before I even finished typing. Someone knew we were going to need this information. I think we can both guess who.”

Lady Tam-tam. Trin clenched her jaw and balled her hands into fists. Earlier when Thrace had been talking about how their hostess was probably lonely and missing her love-slave, she had felt almost sorry for the old lady. Well, no more—Trin was angry! How could anyone let this happen to a total stranger without giving them so much as a warning? Probably the same way she could insist that we try the red dream gas that made us nearly jump each other without warning us, she thought grimly.

“Okay.” She took a deep breath and tried to remain calm. “In the article that was sent to us, does it say what to do about this? Is there some kind of antidote?”

“There is but you’re not going to be happy about it.”

“What? Just tell me,” Trin demanded. Her breasts and nipples were aching more sharply with every second—she didn’t have time to beat around the bush.

Thrace sighed. “Says here that a male who has also ingested the same combination of pods and shromp has to help ease the pain in the female’s nipples.”

“Ease the pain? How—?”

“By sucking them,” he said flatly. When Trin bit her lip he shook his head. “See? Told you that you wouldn’t like it.”

“I…but I can’t believe it.”

Thrace motioned her forward. “Come read it for yourself. Apparently it’s the only way you’ll get any relief.”

Trin moved over to the viewscreen and read the line he was pointing to. “The only relief for a female whose breasts have filled with need is as follows— A male who has eaten from the same batch of nectar pods and the same shromp must be found. He will have the essential compounds in his saliva. By sucking her nipples vigorously until they return to their normal color, he may ease the ache and cure her completely. This must be done shortly after the symptoms appear or permanent damage may occur.”

“Permanent damage?” She looked up at Thrace fearfully. “What does that mean?”

“It means you need to let me help you now.” He took a step towards her but Trin retreated.

“I…I really don’t think…”

“That it’s proper?” He blew out a breath in obvious frustration. “Listen, Trin—we’ve gone well beyond caring what’s right or wrong according to your personal code of ethics or what the Goddess of Judgment says. We’re talking about pain and permanent damage—you need to let me help you.”

“I…” Trin shook her head, wishing she could put her objections into words. But her mind was a jumbled chaos and her breasts were aching so much it was hard to think.

“Think of it this way,” Thrace murmured, stepping closer to cup her cheek. “I’ll be performing an obeisance, like I did for you earlier in the sleeping chamber. That’s all.”

“But…you just kissed me then,” Trin pointed out. “It was gentle…respectful.”

“And I’ll still be respectful,” Thrace promised her gently. “I would never treat any part of you with disrespect, Mistress.”

“That…that article said you have to suck vigorously. As in hard,” Trin objected. “That just sounds…obscene. And besides, I don’t think I could stand that right now. They hurt so much.” She pointed down to her bright scarlet nipples and her breasts which still felt so full and achy.

“I’ll be gentle, baby.” Thrace stroked her cheek with a feather light touch. “You know I will.”

“Well…I guess if you’re gentle.” Trin shifted and felt something strike the backs of her thighs. With a start, she realized she had backed herself against the black marble counter which ran the length of the room.

“Here.” Thrace put both hands on her hips and lifted her easily, as if she was a doll. He sat her carefully on the high counter so that his mouth was on the level of her full, naked breasts. “Comfortable?” he asked, looking at her with half-lidded eyes. “Ready to let me help you?”

“Yes,” Trin whispered in a small voice. “But…”

“But what?” he was already cupping her breasts in his big hands, about to lean forward.

“I mean…how can you not mind doing this?” Trin motioned down at herself, at the obscene sight of her too-full breasts and scarlet nipples, so different from her usual berry brown color. “I mean I look…bizarre.”

“You’re beautiful—always beautiful to me.” He cupped her cheek again. “And didn’t I tell you there was nothing I wouldn’t do for you?”

“Thrace…you don’t have to.”

“Yes I do. And I want to.” Leaning down he raised her aching right nipple to his lips. “Watch me, baby. I’m going to start out very soft and gentle.”

“A-all right.” Trin didn’t know what else to say. And before she could think of anything, his warm mouth was closing around her tight nipple.

Trin clenched her hands into fists, trying to brace herself. By now her breasts were so full and achy that even a soft breeze blowing across her nipples would have hurt. So she didn’t see how letting Thrace suck them could be anything but excruciating. She closed her eyes, gritted her teeth, and tried to get ready for the pain.

To her surprise, no pain came. Instead, there was the soothing sensation of warmth and then the feeling of his tongue bathing her aching tip very, very tenderly.

“Oh…” Trin whispered, unable to say anything else. Before when he’d kissed her while paying obeisance, he hadn’t used his tongue. Now, he was lapping gently and delicately around her swollen nipple, making her feel strange all over. Strange but good…relieved. And hot.

Thrace released her for just a moment and looked up at her.

“Going to suck now, Mistress. Going to suck your sweet nipple. Let me know if you need more or less.”

Trin nodded and watched as he recaptured her nipple and drew it as deeply into his mouth as he could. Then, very gently, the suction began.

At once she felt a sense of release, as though the pressure that had been building up inside her was beginning to ease. But though it was getting better, the easing of tension wasn’t quite fast enough. She needed more.

“Thrace…” She ran a hand through his hair, looking down at him, his mouth latched on to her nipple. “I need more…need…harder.”

He released her once more.

“As my lady commands,” he murmured. Then, pulling her close, he nuzzled his face between her breasts, the scratch of his cheeks making her moan. “Harder then,” he said hoarsely.

This time when he pulled her nipple into his mouth, Trin could feel a deep, steady suction that made her moan. Goddess, surely it wasn’t right the way this made her feel! It was almost as though there was a connection that went directly from her nipples to her pussy. With each deep pull on her breast, she felt an answering surge between her thighs. Her clit was throbbing with need and desire as Thrace tended to her.

After a while he switched breasts, sucking the left nipple just as eagerly. Trin groaned as the intense need growing in her pussy ignited and her body begged for more. She could no longer ignore the fire his mouth on her nipples caused. She had to do something to relieve this desire.

Without thinking about it, her hand slipped down and opened the towel still wrapped around her waist. Her fingers found her swollen pussy lips and parted them to slip inside. But with the first light touch, she gasped in pain.

“Ouch!”

Thrace stopped sucking at once.

“Did I hurt you?” His eyes were dark with concern.

“No, I…I hurt myself,” Trin confessed.

“What? How?” He frowned.

“I…”

“Just tell me, Trin.”

“I…” Her face was on fire but she knew he wouldn’t stop asking until he had an answer. “I tried to…to touch myself, like I did when you held me last night,” she whispered. “But I guess I’m too sensitive because it really hurt.”

“Let me see.” Despite her weak protests, he pulled the towel all the way open, baring her pussy. What he revealed made Trin suck in her breath—her pussy was swollen with need and as scarlet as her nipples. It was clear to see since the outer lips parting of their own volition to reveal her inner cunt, slick with her juices. The little pearl of her clit was standing out, prominently on display as though begging for attention.

“Oh, no!” Trin moaned at the sight. “Not there too!”

“It’s all right,” Thrace murmured. “You’re just in need, Mistress.” He placed a hand on her inner thigh. “Do you want me to ease you?”

“I don’t think you can. If I can’t even stand my own touch…”

“I think I can help you if you’ll let me. The compounds in my saliva that are easing the pain in your nipples should work on your pussy too.” He looked up at her. “Will you let me try?”

“What, you mean…lick me? There?” Trin felt her face heat as she nodded between her legs.

Slowly, he nodded. “It would be the fastest way to help you feel better.”

“No.” Trin closed her thighs though it made her swollen pussy ache sharply. “I don’t…don’t want you to do that. I don’t feel…comfortable with that.”

“I kissed you there when I was offering you obeisance,” he pointed out.

“That’s not the same thing,” she said stubbornly. “You only kissed me. You didn’t…didn’t spread me open and…and lick me.”

“What’s the matter?” he asked softly. “Is licking too much like penetration?”

“It’s close,” Trin admitted, dropping her eyes. “Closer than I want to get.”

“All right.” he sighed. “What if I licked my fingers and touched you with them? Would that be all right? As long as I promise not to penetrate you with them?”

“I…guess so.” Trin didn’t know what else to do.

“You know, my tongue is a hell of a lot softer than my fingers,” he pointed out.

“I know.” Trin nodded. “But I just…feel more comfortable this way.”

“You may change your mind in a minute,” he murmured. “Remember I told you last night that sometimes something can feel so good it’s almost painful?”

Trin bit her lip. “Yes…”

“Well, I’m afraid this might be one of those situations. This is going to be intense.”

“All right.” She nodded again. “I understand. Just…just do it.”

Without another word, he sucked two fingers into his mouth and got them wet. Then he reached between her thighs and touched her inner folds very lightly.

“Oh!” It was, as he had promised, extremely intense. But Trin found she could bear it, despite the powerful pleasure his touch brought her. “Goddess, Thrace,” she moaned, gripping his broad, bare shoulders. “That’s good…so good.”

“I’m glad, baby.” His voice was a soft, deep growl and his eyes were half-lidded as he stroked gently, circling her swollen clit carefully. “Glad you like it when I pet your soft little pussy. Do you need me to suck your nipples some more while I do?”

Her nipples seemed less red and her breasts felt almost back to normal. But Trin couldn’t help remembering the intense pleasure she’d gotten from the hard, steady suckling of his big mouth on her full breasts.

Goddess, shouldn’t do this…really shouldn’t do this…

“Yes,” she whispered, knowing she shouldn’t. “Yes, please, Thrace.”

“My pleasure, Mistress,” he murmured. Then, bending towards her once more, he sucked one tight nub into his mouth as his fingers continued to fly lightly over her clit.

Trin felt a wave of pleasure cresting inside her—a great rush of sensation poised on the brink of crashing down and drowning her in its intensity.

A male—a male is touching you! Is about to make you come! whispered a judgmental little voice in her brain. This is wrong! You should be punished for such blasphemy!

She knew she ought to care but she didn’t—she couldn’t. All she wanted was to feel the big Havoc’s mouth and hands on her forever. All she wanted was to come for him as he touched her.

Then, suddenly, she was. With a low wail, she reached for Thrace, threading her fingers through his hair and bucking against his hand and mouth as the wave of pleasure crashed over her.

“Goddess,” she moaned aloud, unable to help herself, unable to shut up. “Oh please, yes, Thrace!…so good…please!”

Thrace redoubled his efforts, sucking her other nipple into his mouth and rubbing her spread pussy while she cried and gasped his name. The pleasure seemed to go on and on until Trin almost felt like she was drowning in it. But then, slowly, the tidal wave of sensation began to ebb and she found she was able to catch her breath.

“Goddess!” she whispered, panting, and slumped against him, her head resting on his broad shoulder.

Thrace stopped touching her but he kept his hand on her, cupped protectively over her open pussy.

“All right, baby?” he murmured in her ear. “All better now?”

“Much.” Trin took a deep breath and straightened up. Looking down, she took stock of herself—completely naked and spent, sitting on the counter with her legs spread and Thrace standing between her thighs, cupping her pussy. Well, at least everything was back to the normal color but she still couldn’t believe what she’d just allowed to happen.

Goddess, what did I do? Now that the heat of passion was relieved, she felt a surge of embarrassment for what she’d just done. Embarrassment and shame.

She sat up and tried to pull away from him but Thrace seemed to sense her mood.

“Hey…” He caught her chin so that she had to look into his eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“I just…I shouldn’t have done that.” Trin moved away from his hand. “Shouldn’t have let you…do that to me.”

“Do what? Suck you?” He motioned at her breasts where her nipples were still tight with the pleasure he’d given her.

“Not just that.” She moved to get away from his big hand cupping her pussy and he let her.

“You feel like you shouldn’t have let me ease your pain? Your need? Why the hell not?” he demanded softly.

“You know why not.” Trin looked away. “I’m really tired. I want to go to bed now.”

“Not until we talk about this,” Thrace growled. “You were in pain…in need and I helped you out. I served you as a good love-slave should.” He tried to catch her eyes. “What’s so wrong with that?”

“You know how I feel…what I believe.” Trin sighed. “Or what I was raised to believe, anyway.”

“Yes, but do you still believe it? Do you still think males are animals—lower life forms?”

“You know I don’t!” she exclaimed. “That’s not what I meant!”

“But you still think it’s wrong to be with one. To love one.”

Trin looked up at him uncertainly.

“Who said anything about love?”

“Forget it.” He frowned and shook his head. “My point is, we didn’t do anything wrong. You needed help and I helped you. Nobody, not even the strictest priestess of your Goddess could expect you to incur permanent physical damage just because the only way to avoid it was letting a male help you. Am I right?”

“I…” She bit her lip. “I don’t know. You don’t know how strongly they feel about this kind of thing. About letting a male…”

“But that’s them and this is you,” he rumbled impatiently. “What are you ashamed of? Do you feel like allowing me to touch you lowered you in some way? Impaired your dignity as a female?”

“No, I—”

“I didn’t penetrate you,” he pointed out softly. “Gods know I wanted to badly enough—wanted to put my tongue deep in your wet little pussy and taste you to the core. But I didn’t, Trin. I would never do that without your permission.”

“I know.” His words brought vivid images to her mind, pictures of the big Havoc kneeling between her thighs, spreading her wide to lick and kiss and penetrate her with his tongue…No, she told herself. No, stop thinking about that! It’s wrong!

But was it? Was what they had done together that night really so bad? Suddenly Trin realized she was getting tired of listening to the judgmental little voice in her head. She wasn’t a child anymore, to be shamed by the priestesses’ rhetoric. She was certain if she’d allowed Thrace to penetrate her with his shaft she would have felt wrong…dirty… maybe even in danger of damnation—at least according to her childhood beliefs. But as he pointed out, he hadn’t done that. He hadn’t even penetrated her with his tongue or fingers. All he’d done was ease the pressure in her breasts.

And he rubbed your pussy until you came all over his hand. Don’t forget about that, whispered that nasty little voice again.

Trin took a deep breath and made the decision to ignore it. What good would it do to make herself miserable about something which had been necessary…something which was over and done with? The thing to do was to move on and swear to keep herself under control in the future.

“Finished thinking it over?” Thrace rumbled and Trin realized she’d been sitting there, staring down at her hands and mulling things over for a solid couple of minutes.

“Yes.” She took a deep breath and looked him in the eye. “What’s done is done—there’s no point in getting upset about it.”

“Very sensible.” He nodded approvingly.

“I’m glad you think so,” Trin said dryly. She straightened her shoulders. “We were just…under the influence of a lot of chemicals tonight. The red dream gas, the nectar pods, the schromp…”

“This does seem to be a place where they believe in better living through chemistry,” Thrace agreed neutrally. “So what do you suggest, Mistress?”

“First that we get a good night’s sleep. Then tomorrow, we’re going to be extra careful about everything we eat, drink, and breathe. Hopefully as soon as we’ve had first meal with Lady Tam-tam I can approach Lady Malroth again about completing our deal.”

“And if she won’t? If she wants us to stay longer or do…something else?” He raised an eyebrow at her. “What then?”

“I…” Trin bit her lip. “I don’t know. I’d like to say that I’ll tell her to shove the whole bag of Jaxite crystals in an unmentionable area but if I do that…if the deal falls through…”

“We’re all screwed,” Thrace finished for her. “Well, let’s not borrow trouble. Maybe you’ll be able to do the deal and we’ll be out of here by mid-meal time.”

“From your lips to the Goddess’s ears.” Trin sighed and the sigh turned into a yawn. “Goddess of Judgment, I’m so tired. What’s wrong with me? Am I still having after effects from the passion berries?”

Thrace frowned. “You shouldn’t be. It should be long out of your system by now which worries me.”

His words sent a chill down her spine.

“Do you think everything is all right?”

He made a dismissive gesture.

“I’m sure it is. I’m just feeling protective of you right now which heightens everything, that’s all.” He sighed. “You’re probably just tired from all the stress and from coming so hard just now.”

“I…” Trin felt her cheeks getting hot. “I guess that could be it. I have to confess I’ve never, uh, come that hard before. But then…nobody but me has ever made me come.”

“It was my very great pleasure to be your first, Mistress,” he growled softly. “But now let’s get you to bed.”

He swept her off the countertop and into his arms, making Trin gasp.

“You don’t have to carry me everywhere, you know,” she protested as he took her into the sleeping chamber. “I can walk.”

“I know you can. I like carrying you. Besides, it looks better for whoever’s watching. More romantic.” He grinned at her and nodded at the glowing blue viewscreen.

“I guess so.” Trin was so tired she felt like lead weights were tied to her body. Deciding not to fight him about it, she let herself relax against his broad chest. Goddess, how could something as hard as his big body make such a comfortable pillow? She didn’t know but by the time he laid her down on the sleeping platform, she was already half asleep.

Thrace started to tuck her in. “Come on—don’t want you to get cold.”

“Wait…I can’t sleep like this…in the nude,” Trin protested sleepily.

“Afraid you’re going to have to, at least for tonight,” said Thrace. “Your nipples are looking a little red again. You don’t want to hurt yourself by letting anything rough come in contact with them.”

As if to illustrate his point, he leaned down and lapped her right nipple, gently, soothing the sharp little ache that had begun to grow, almost without Trin knowing it.

“Oh!” His hot mouth on her flesh woke her up and for a moment she had to fight the urge to reach for him, to beg him to lick her again, to suck her some more…

“Sorry, Mistress…did I overstep my bounds?” His eyes were half-lidded with desire. “I just wanted to make sure you were completely comfortable. Perhaps I should lick the other too? To be on the safe side?”

Again, Trin didn’t want to fight about it.

“All right. Thank you, Thrace,” she murmured. Arching her back, she pressed her breasts up, offering herself to him.

Thrace took her up on the offer, leaning down again to trace her other nipple gently with his tongue, easing her pain.

“Gods, Mistress,” he murmured thickly when he at last raised his head. “Your breasts are so beautiful. Thank you for allowing me to help you. Is your pussy in need as well?”

“I…” Trin began to feel a bit breathless and much more awake. “I don’t know.”

“Perhaps I should check. If you would spread your legs for me, Mistress?” He tugged the sheets down below her thighs and raised an eyebrow at her.

Feeling hot and uncertain all over again, Trin did as he asked. She bit back a moan as he framed her pussy with his big hands and then parted her outer lips gently with his thumbs.

“Hmmm…” he studied her critically. “Just a hint of redness, especially around your clit. Does it hurt?”

“It’s…sensitive,” Trin admitted, biting her lip.

“What about when I do this?” Gently he traced her tender little bump, making her moan and jump against his touch. “I think I have my answer,” he murmured, looking up at her. “And I know what I need to do about it.”

“What…what do you want to do about it?” Trin whispered. “I…I don’t know if it’s right to let you help me…make me, uh, come again. I mean…I’m not really in danger any more.”

“But you are still in pain. No good love-slave can allow his mistress to have pain when he can do something to ease it.” He nodded at the viewscreen. “It wouldn’t look right.”

“All right,” Trin said softly. “I just…we’ve already done more…more than I ever thought I would.”

“I know, Mistress,” Thrace murmured. “And I’m not asking you to push your boundaries any more tonight—I just want to lessen your pain. After all, I didn’t have to suck your nipples again to make them feel better—I don’t think another orgasm is necessary to ease the ache in your pussy, either.” His eyes blazed with lust. “Although the Gods know I’d fucking love to give you one.”

“What do you recommend, then?” Trin didn’t know if she was relieved or disappointed that he didn’t think she needed to come again.

“Just an obeisance—the same thing I did earlier, before your bath.” He licked his lips carefully, making them shiny. “I think I can transfer enough of the healing compounds to you through a single kiss to ease your ache.”

“Just a kiss, then?” Trin whispered.

Slowly, he nodded. “Just a kiss goodnight, Mistress,” he murmured. “Just your soft, sweet pussy spread open for me to kiss. Once. That’s all.”

“All right.” Trin nodded. After all, he’d already done this once. It couldn’t hurt to let him do it again—could it?

Before she could answer the question, Thrace was flat on his stomach between her legs. Spreading her pussy lips wide, he looked up at her.

“Watch me, Mistress,” he said hoarsely. “Watch me kiss your hot little pussy.”

“Thrace,” she protested weakly but his hot words as well as the way he was looking into her eyes seemed to rob her of all self control. Obediently, she watched as he lowered his head and gave her bare pussy a hot, open-mouthed kiss.

It seemed to go on forever, the feel of his warm lips caressing her clit and inner cunt. But finally, just as Trin was getting the breathless feeling of need building inside her again, he pulled back.

“Better?” he asked and she was ashamed to see that his lips were shiny again—this time with her honey. Goddess, why couldn’t she help getting wet when she was around him?

“Better,” she whispered. “I…I guess I should get some sleep now.”

“I suppose.” But he made no move to leave his position between her legs and Trin didn’t try to make him either. “I’m glad you’re feeling less pain now, Mistress,” he murmured.

“I am too,” Trin agreed. “Especially considering what you…what you had to do to ease my pain in the first place.”

“I don’t mind—you know I don’t.” His eyes were half-lidded as he studied her face. “In fact, I think we should make this form of obeisance a regular thing.”

“What—you mean letting…letting you kiss my pussy?” Trin shifted a little, wishing she wasn’t spread quite so wide. Her slippery inner petals were completely exposed. It made her feel vulnerable…and incredibly hot.

“Letting me kiss your open pussy,” Thrace corrected her in a soft growl. “After all, what better way could there be for me to show my obedience and devotion to you than to spread open your sweet, wet cunt and worship you with my mouth?” Leaning down, he kissed her again, nuzzling gently with his lips to press deep into her wet depths. He wasn’t using his tongue but it was a near thing—Trin could almost feel the tip of it caressing her throbbing clit as he gave her yet another sweet, intimate kiss.

“I…I don’t think that would be such a good idea,” she whispered breathlessly. “You…you know how I feel about penetration, Thrace. Even…even oral penetration.”

“Spreading your pussy lips to kiss your inner cunt isn’t penetration—it’s devotion,” he argued softly. “Why should I not show how very devoted I am to you, Mistress? How very much I lo—” He cleared his throat. “How much I care for you and want to serve you?”

Trin bit her lip, wondering what he had almost said. Surely not what she’d thought…

“It’s late, Thrace,” she said softly. “And I’m tired…really tired.”

“Of course, Mistress.” He kissed her pussy once more—a soft, lingering caress that made her want to moan and run her fingers through his hair—then lifted his head. “I suppose I should tuck you in and say goodnight then.”

“I suppose.” Trin couldn’t help feeling a little stab of disappointment though she knew it was irrational. What had almost happened between them?

“Well, then…” Thrace rose from his prone position and tucked the covers around her. “Pleasant dreams.”

Trin sighed. “Are you coming to bed as well?”

“As soon as I change.” He nodded down at the leather pants he still wore with a grimace of distaste. “Then, if you’ll permit me, I’d like to hold you tonight, as I did last night.”

“Well…” Trin hesitated. The night before she had at least had on a sleep dress and panties. Now she was completely naked. Should she really let him hold her like that all night long, especially after what had almost happened? But then she remembered how good it felt to be pressed against his big body, to be surrounded by him. Also, it would probably look better for whoever was watching on the blue viewscreen. “All right,” she said at last. “Hurry and get changed though. I’m exhausted.”

“As my lady commands,” he murmured.

The desire in her body gradually faded to just an ache. Trin’s eyelids drifted closed for a moment and she heard the sound of rustling fabric. After a moment, the lights went out and Thrace slid under the heavy, silky sheets beside her. He took her in his arms and Trin sighed in deep contentment as she pillowed her head on his hard chest. Goddess, they fit together perfectly. Who would have guessed that such a thing was possible? That she could find comfort and pleasure in cuddling up with such big, strange, dangerous creature?

Yet, despite being a male, Thrace was none of those things. Or rather, he was but he was also just…Thrace. He made her feel safe in his arms…protected…cherished. How did he do that? Why did he want to? And how did she feel about it? About him? Was she beginning to care for him?

Surely not, whispered a little voice in her head. Care for a male? In that way? That’s crazy…isn’t it?

Before she could find an answer, her eyelids drifted shut again and sleep claimed her.

* * * * *

Just look at her. Thrace brushed a long strand of silky hair out of her face and tucked it behind her ear. The room was mostly dark but he could see her clearly in the faint blue glow from the viewscreen on the wall. She looked lovely as she lay curled in his arms, lost to the world but trusting that he would keep her safe, that he would protect her all night long.

I will too. I’ll guard her with my life.

Emotion swelled within him and he knew it was true. There was no denying it—he was growing to care for Trin and not in a casual way. Havoc didn’t bond themselves to females—they went their whole lives trying to avoid emotional entanglements with the opposite sex. That was part of their heritage and their beliefs, as surely as Trin’s people believed it was wrong to allow themselves to become involved with males. Yet, here they were, the two of them, entwined in bed with her head resting on his chest and her sweet, naked body pressed to his.

What was happening to them?

You’re falling for her, a little voice whispered in the back of his brain. It wasn’t accusing or angry or guilty—it was soft and calm and matter-of-fact. Just stating the truth. You’re falling in love with her.

I can’t be, Thrace told himself. That’s fucking dangerous. It was too. Havoc didn’t avoid bonding themselves to females just because it would change their life expectancy or because of cultural beliefs and heritage. Havoc didn’t bond to females because once they gave themselves, gave their hearts, there was nothing—nothing—they wouldn’t do or give or endure to keep their female safe, to make her feel loved and protected. To show her how they felt.

“Love for a female is like a drug,” Thrace remembered his Sire lecturing when he was young. “If you even once allow it to enter your system, it will take over. It clouds your judgment, ruins your sense of self preservation, changes the focus of your whole life. That’s why we stay away from females, son, except for brief encounters. It fucks up your entire existence, falling in love. Don’t let it happen to you.”

Thrace had promised he wouldn’t and he had kept his word faithfully for years…up until now. I should get up right now, he told himself. Ought to just leave. There’s nothing keeping me here—no pain collar. No one could stop me. I could find a transport shuttle out of here and go back to The Empress, find Solar and get my old life back. I should just go.

But looking down at the girl curled in his arms, he knew he couldn’t. If love was a drug, it had already entered his system. He couldn’t help how he felt, couldn’t stop the chemical reaction in his brain. Couldn’t control the impulses he felt to protect and cherish her, to hold her for as long as he could…even though he knew she didn’t feel the same way.

She never will, either, he thought, stroking her cheek. Trin sighed in her sleep and turned toward his touch. Thrace felt like a fist was squeezing his heart. She’ll never allow herself to feel for a male. And the very idea of making love, of allowing any kind of penetration from me, is repugnant to her. She said it herself—she feels the same way about being penetrated that I do.

The thought made him shudder and unquiet memories tried to rise to the surface of his mind. Thrace pushed them down ruthlessly. He’d confronted enough of his past already, especially when he’d sucked in the bubble of nightmare vapor earlier that night. The point was, he understood why Trin didn’t want to be penetrated. And also why she could never feel for him the way he was beginning to feel for her.

Doesn’t matter though, he thought, settling her more closely against him. I still feel it, even if she doesn’t. I can’t help it—I’m fucking lost.

The thought should have depressed him but he couldn’t make himself be too upset—not when he was holding her close in his arms. There was nothing he could do about it tonight. Nothing but hold her while he still could. With a sigh, he let his eyes drift closed…

After a moment, the glow of the viewscreen showed only two people sleeping deeply in each other’s arms—two bodies entwined, the smaller one curled against the larger for comfort and warmth. The soft hush of breathing was the only sound.

Then, the cool blue glow of the viewscreen turned an ominous pulsing red and low male laughter rumbled through its speakers. The black dots in the center of each bedpost irised open, revealing four holes like hungry mouths. A soft, insidious hissing sound filled the air and a heavy black vapor poured out and drifted down. It caressed the faces of the two sleepers, stroking their helpless visages with oily tentacles.

Trin sniffed a tiny amount of the vapor and made a face. She curled towards Thrace’s broad chest, her hair falling over her face, shielding her from inhaling any more the vapor. But the huge Havoc was sleeping on his back. A faint frown creased his face as the oily, black tentacles caressed his cheek. He drew in a deep, startled breath and the vapor entered his mouth and nose eagerly, almost as if it had been waiting for just such an opportunity.

The nightmare began…

Chapter Twenty-one

Trin looked around herself, frowning. Where was she? There were rows of slaves, kneeling on display pillars and eager slaves walking around, crying their wares. Prospective buyers browsed the merchandise while the security Crangs watched from the sidelines. Recognition struck her—somehow she was back to the Flesh Bazaar, where she had first found Thrace.

Why am I back here? I found the one I wanted. The only one I’ll ever want. So why am I…?

The question died before she could answer it as something caught her attention. It was Thrace…at least she thought it was Thrace.

But something was different about him. He looked younger—much younger—only an adolescent.

Adolescent Thrace was tall and gangly and not nearly as muscular as the Thrace she knew. But his hair was the same inky blue-black and his eyes were the same startling silver-blue.

He was up on an auction block.

Trin had seen one or two of these private auctions. They were held for only the rarest and most desirable slaves and buyers had to pay a hefty fee to even join the auction in the first place. Several of them were bidding now, standing in front of the raised platform where the young Thrace was displayed, calling out prices, trying to win him as though he was a rare pet they wanted for their private zoo.

Once, Trin would have thought the same thing—that a male had no more feelings than a beast. But now her heart went out to the young Thrace. He stood proudly, his chin raised, his big hands curled into fists at his sides. He didn’t make a sound, even when the auctioneer, a Catara from the Dengba system, raised the scanty cloth he wore wrapped around his waist and displayed the size of his shaft.

“A tasty young mmmorsel, my lords and ladies,” the auctioneer purred, his pointed ears swiveling to catch the various bids. “And mmmost well endowed, as you can see. Now…what ammm I bid?”

“Ten thousand!” a female who was certainly a mistress from Yonnie Six exclaimed.

“Twenty!” shouted another.

“Twenty once…twenty twice…do I hear thirty thousand credits?” The Catara auctioneer’s long furry tail lashed from side to side with excitement.

“Thirty thousand,” the first mistress declared.

“Thirty-five. I must have him for my private collection!” The second mistress glared at her.

“Thirty-eight and not a credit more,” declared the first.

“Thirty-eight,” the auctioneer purred. “Going once…going twice…”

“Fifty thousand credits.” The voice belonged to a medium sized male with thinning gray hair and rings on every finger. His rich robes of purple halla-cloth were pulled tight over his round belly and there was a hungry glitter in his small, piggy eyes that made Trin fear for the adolescent Thrace.

Fifty thousand—that’s what I paid for him. An exorbitant fee for an ordinary slave. But Thrace was anything but ordinary. Trin could see why he had inspired such a high price…twice.

“Sold! To the Master from Gemma!” the Catara auctioneer shouted when no one else countered the bid.

Suddenly, there was a commotion a few rows down.

“No!” A large Havoc male, the same size Thrace was now, came charging through the crowd, his silver-blue eyes burning. He had his hands bound behind his back but he didn’t let that stop him. “No, you male-raping bastard,” he shouted at the surprised master from Gemma who had just won the auction. “You shall not have him! Not my only son!”

It looked to Trin like he was going to bowl the middle aged, gray haired master right over. But then the master surprised everyone by pulling a blaster from the folds of his purple robes and firing it point-blank at the other male’s chest.

The shot stopped the angry Havoc in his tracks. He halted at once and looked down, a look of surprise on his face as he viewed the gaping, bloody hole in his chest. Then he fell to his knees, swayed a moment more…and crumpled to the ground.

“No!” The howl of pure agony came from the young Thrace. His silver-blue eyes were filled with shock and disbelief. “No, Father…please!” he begged as the security Crangs dragged the bloody corpse away.

“Sir,” began the slaver who had been rushing after the older Havoc. “I appreciate that you felt you were being attacked but that slave was a valuable piece of merchandize and I must protest—”

“Here.” The Master from Gemma threw a jingling bag of credit-coins at the slaver’s feet. “For your trouble. I can’t stand mouthy slaves.”

The slaver picked up the bag and hefted it expertly in one many-fingered hand. At once his expression changed from anger to avarice.

“A fair price. Most kind, Master.”

“Take it and go.” The Master turned his greedy gaze on Thrace once more. “I have a new slave to attend to…”

Trin watched in horror as Thrace was dragged away, still looking over his shoulder and shouting for his father…begging him to get up…to not be dead…to come back.

Oh Thrace, I’m so sorry…so terribly sorry…

The scene was horrible—it made Trin feel like her heart was being twisted in a spiked glove. She wished she could do something but she was frozen in place, unable to move or go after the young Thrace. Unable to help him in any way or do anything but watch.

I don’t want to watch this! Please, just let me go…

But she couldn’t go and the worst was yet to come.

The scene shifted to the young Thrace in a bedchamber wearing only a thick leather belt with a few scraps of fabric hanging from it for cover. He had his arms tied behind his back and he was wearing a cruel black pain collar with silver agony conducting studs.

Trin watched, her heart beating in her throat. What was happening now? At least the young Havoc seemed to be all alone. Maybe he would be all right. Maybe…just then the gray haired master walked in.

“Are you ready?” he demanded, with no preamble. He came to stand before Thrace and glared up at him. “Ready to say the words? Ready to kneel before me and accept your fate as a good slave should?”

“Never.” Thrace raised his chin, looking coolly down his nose at the master. Though he had obviously yet to reach his full size, he was still bigger than he had been in the auction scene. Clearly some months or maybe even a cycle had passed. “Never,” he said again, glaring boldly at the other male. “I’ll never bow to you. Never acknowledge you as my master.”

“Bite your tongue, boy.” The master glared at him. “Or else maybe I should cut it out. I’d do it without a second’s hesitation if it didn’t feel so good wrapped around my shaft.”

“You’ve never had me willingly and you never will,” Thrace growled. “You have to use the force gag every time because if you don’t you know I’ll bite that tiny, shriveled piece of meat you call a shaft in two and spit it out.”

The master’s face grew scarlet with rage.

“You dare!” he roared, advancing on Thrace. “You dare to speak so to your master when you ought to be kneeling before me instead? When you ought to be taking the oath of fealty, swearing to be mine forever?”

“I’ll never be yours,” Thrace spat. “You might own my body but you cannot own my soul. You killed my sire and someday I will repay the favor.”

“You mouthy little bastard.” The master’s face was nearly puce now. “Take back those words and swear the oath of fealty to me now or I swear by all the Gods I’ll make you sorry.”

“I’m already sorry,” Thrace snarled. “Sorry you’re too much of a coward to let me loose before you come at me. Come on, old man—give me a fair fight.”

“This is your last chance.” There was a note of warning in the gray haired master’s voice that sent a shiver down Trin’s spine. She wanted to tell Thrace that he ought to curb his tongue. He was tied up…helpless and wearing a pain collar. He shouldn’t provoke the male who held the remote.

“Your last chance,” the master repeated. “I’ve been waiting for you…waiting for months for you to develop the proper feelings of obedience and love towards me. Waiting to take you until you spoke your oath to me. But I swear to you, boy, tonight the waiting ends. Swear your oath to me and I will take you gently. Do not and I will take you just the same…but not nearly as tenderly as I had planned.”

“You think I fear you?” Thrace sneered. “I fear no male. I am Havoc!”

“It is not your fear that I seek—I want your love and loyalty. But if you will not give them freely, I will take them. Guards!”

Four huge, muscular males wearing gleaming gold armor came forward, carrying a large, X-shaped piece of equipment. They turned Thrace to face the X and untied his arms from behind his back. Then they bound them above his head instead, fastening his wrists with iron cuffs to either side of the X shaped device. They manacled his legs too, bracing them far apart at the bottom corners of the X—chaining him down so he couldn’t move.

Trin bit her lip as she watched. Though he struggled and fought will all his might, the young Thrace could not break free. He might have had a chance if he was the Thrace she knew now, the big, powerful male that had fought his way free of the Demon’s Eye with no more than a blaster and a bad attitude. But he was still young in this scene—he hadn’t reached his full growth and potential. Which made what happened next even harder to watch.

“Say it! Say the words!” The gray haired master stepped up behind him and pulled his purple robes to one side, revealing a surprisingly large shaft. Not as large as Thrace’s own but enough to cause serious damage, Trin was sure.

“Don’t!” she shouted. “Leave him alone, you bastard!” But neither the master or Thrace seemed to hear or see her. As before she was frozen in place, unable to help, unable to be anything but a silent, invisible observer.

The master grabbed Thrace’s lean hips and pressed forward, entering him. Violating him.

“I will belong to you body and soul—say it!” he snarled as he thrust in.

“Never!” Young Thrace’s face was a trembling mask of pain and hatred, his hands clenched into fists as he fought to keep the tears standing in his silver-blue eyes from falling.

“I will protect you with my life, shield you from harm in times of danger, and pleasure you in times of peace—say it!” The gray haired master thrust again. “To the last drop of my blood, I am yours. Say it, Gods damn you—Say It!”

Those words! Trin thought wonderingly. Those are the words he said to me when I put the pain collar on him. Is this how he knew them? Was he a slave after all? But how? And where?

“Say you love me! I’ll make you love me!” the master raved. Reaching around he grasped the other male’s shaft in his hand and began to pump it in time with his strokes. “You love it…you know you love it,” he hissed.

“Never.” The young Thrace’s eyes were closed now, his jaw clenched as silent tears rolled down his face. “I’d rather die. Never.”

Trin found that she was crying too.

“No—no leave him alone! Please, leave him alone! Stop!” She shouted until her throat was raw, screaming at the horrible sight going on before her, her hands clenched into fists and tears pouring down her cheeks. “Stop it! Stop it!”

“Stop what? Trin wake up—what’s going on?” The deep familiar voice in her ear seemed to pull her out of the nightmare she had somehow entered.

She opened her eyes to find she was curled against Thrace’s muscular side, her hands balled into fists and her breath coming in short, heaving gasps.

“Th-thrace? Is that you?” She reached up to touch his cheek.

“Yeah, baby, it’s me. What’s wrong? Did you have a bad dream?” He looked at her with obvious concern. “You were yelling for someone to stop doing something.”

“I…was?” Trin frowned, trying to recapture the details of the nightmare. Whatever it was, it had been bad—terrible. But now that she was awake it was gone except for a few wisps.

“Yeah, you were. And…you’re crying.” He cupped her face and rubbed his thumb gently over her cheek.

“I am?” Trin touched her fingers to her other cheek and they came away wet. What had she dreamed that affected her so deeply? It had to do with Thrace somehow…something bad happening to him. But what?

She couldn’t answer the question. The dream was gone. Not that she wanted it back if it was that upsetting.

“What were you dreaming? Do you remember?” Thrace asked softly. “I only ask because my people believe there can be significance in dreams.”

“I don’t know. It was so vivid but now it’s just…gone.” She shrugged and swiped at her eyes. “Silly, huh?”

“No. Nothing that upsets you that much is silly.” He frowned. “I had a bad dream too. Maybe it had something to do with the dream gas we inhaled.”

“Maybe.” Trin sighed uneasily. “Although I doubt it was the red gas and I didn’t breathe in any of the black nightmare gas like you did. Maybe it was the white…the one that’s supposed to show you the truth about people?”

“That’s right.” He frowned. “You know, I meant to but I never asked what you saw when you inhaled that. You touched Lord X and nearly jumped out of your skin.”

“Oh—that was so weird.” Trin shook her head. “And it didn’t make any sense. For a minute I thought I saw that male from the Demon’s Eye. You know—the one with the metal teeth?”

“B’Rugh’s second in command, you mean? But why would you see him when you touched a male from a completely different galaxy?”

Trin shrugged. “I don’t know. It doesn’t make any sense. But then…” She motioned, indicating not just their room but all of Dreaming Hills. “None of this does.”

“No, it sure as hell doesn’t,” Thrace agreed in a low voice. “C’mere.” He pulled her close to his side again. Trin let herself settle against him, not even minding the fact that she was still naked. She was still too much upset by the dream, whatever it had been, to feel aroused anyway.

“Just a dream,” she murmured, feeling her heart begin to slow. “Just a really bad dream.”

“Whatever you were dreaming of, you don’t need to worry about it,” Thrace rumbled comfortingly. “I’ll protect you with my life, you know that.”

“I know,” Trin whispered. Something about his words seemed to jog her memory and for a moment she almost remembered what the terrible dream had been about. But then Thrace breathed deeply, jostling her against his side and the moment was gone.

She took a deep breath, inhaling his warm, spicy male scent and snuggled closer to him. His arms around her were so comforting and his body against hers felt so right. Though she knew it was weak and wrong to want the protection and comfort of a male, she couldn’t help it—Thrace made her feel good. Warm. Safe. Too safe to want to remember whatever the horrible dream had been.

“Go back to sleep, baby,” he murmured and placed a tender kiss on the top of her head. “It’s still a few hours until we have to get up.”

“Okay.” Trin yawned and let herself relax completely. Finally sleep took her again and this time there were no dreams.

* * * * *

Thrace held her close against him, wondering if she had dreamed the same thing he had somehow. He didn’t know how that was possible unless it was some kind of effect of the dream gas. All he knew was at the same time he’d been dreaming of his first violation at the hands of his old master, Trin had woken up screaming, “Leave him alone! Stop it!”

Her shouting was what had woken him, bringing him out of the nightmare of reliving the old pain. But while she had apparently forgotten it, the images lived on in his own memory. Images he had tried to bury, memories he had kept under lock and key for more years than he cared to admit.

It’s all right. It’s over, he told himself uneasily.

Except it wasn’t. Here he was, a slave all over again. And this time by his own choice. What had he been thinking to accept the collar a second time? And of his own volition!

I’ll tell you what you were thinking, whispered a little voice in his head. You were thinking that you weren’t ready to leave Trin yet and this was the only way to stay with her. That’s what you were thinking. You weren’t considering any possible consequences. Anything that might happen to you because you chose to travel this road again.

Thrace told himself not to be a fool. Though it was true he had actually chosen slavery this time, Trin was a far cry from his old master. She wasn’t wantonly cruel and she didn’t delight in his pain or subjugation. In fact, she treated him more like an equal than a slave. And he was certain she would never put him through what his old master had done. She would never hurt him that way.

She was more likely to pierce his heart by leaving him after this deal was said and done than she was to penetrate his flesh in any way.

If she wanted to though, would I let her? Could I? Thrace shivered at the thought. The idea of anyone doing that to him again made a mixture of emotions rise inside him—anger, fear, hurt, shame… They threatened to swamp him, to overwhelm his senses until he wanted to weep and rage and kill the male who had hurt him in the first place.

But you could only kill someone once. After that, you had to deal with what they had done. And their death didn’t erase the horrors they’d committed when they were alive—that fact he knew only too well.

Stop it, he told himself roughly. Stop bringing up the past. Just bury it again and forget it. It’s over and done with and it’ll never happen again. I was young then—weak and tied up—defenseless. I’m a full grown male now and no one…no one will ever be able to use me that way again.

Brutally, he shoved the images from the dream and the emotions they brought up, under the surface of his mind. He concentrated instead on the girl in his arms—the one he would die to protect.

The one he had already lost his heart to.

* * * * *

Charlie woke with a start, coming out of the strange trance-like state she had fallen into when she touched Stavros. Of course, she’d touched him because he was in another one of his trances.

Ever since the time they’d made love after he came out of a particularly long trance, she had somehow gained a mental connection as well—not that she wanted one. Of course, hers wasn’t as bad as his—he was still seeing most of what Two did and none of that was very nice. Charlie, however, had somehow become connected to Trin, the girl from Zetta Prime who had bought the Havoc male, Thrace as a slave.

“Are you all right?” Stav was looking at her with concern. They were sitting together on their bed, having just finished making love, which was when the trances most often seemed to occur.

“I think so.” Charlie shook her head and ran a hand through her blonde hair. “I just had a bad one though—Trin had some kind of a nightmare. Only it wasn’t just a nightmare—it was a memory and I shared it.”

“Really?” Stavros looked uneasy. “Tell me about it. Because I think I know what caused it.”

“You do? What?”

“Just tell me what you saw.” He made a motion with one hand. “Ladies first, right?”

Charlie sighed. “All right. Well, it was weird. Trin was definitely the one having the dream but she was dreaming about Thrace. It was his memory. Of…something that happened to him when he was younger. It upset her a lot.” She rubbed a hand over her face. “Honestly, it upset the hell out of me too.”

“What was it?” Stav asked gently. “Just tell me—you’ll feel better when you do.”

“He was being…well, there’s no pretty way to dress it up,” Charlie said grimly. “He was being raped by his old master—back the first time when he was a slave.”

“What?” Stav asked blankly. “But I thought that Trin established he wasn’t a slave before she bought him.”

“He wasn’t at the time she bought him—but he was captured by slavers before. Back when he was just a teenager. He and his dad were both taken and his master…” Charlie shivered. “He must have been a horrible man. He kept demanding that Thrace say some kind of oath—I think swearing his loyalty or something.”

“And did he?”

“You know Thrace. Of course not.”

“No, of course not. That male will bend for no one—other than Trin, that is,” Stav said thoughtfully. “I wonder if she knows that he loves her.”

“You think he does?”

“Why else would he willingly go back to being a slave just for her? Especially if he was one before and such horrible things happened to him?”

“You’re right,” Charlie said. “It’s the prophesy, you know. A free-born male, Too proud to bend his knee, Enslaved of his own will—that’s Thrace.” She was quoting the words Two himself had told them—the prophesy was the reason he believed he was invulnerable to any attack by the Kindred.

“It also says ‘Against his will set free’” Stav pointed out. “How do you explain that?”

“I don’t know.” Charlie shrugged. “Maybe it hasn’t happened yet. But I think we can tell why Two is so interested in Thrace and Trin.”

“Other than the fact that he’s tracking them for B’Rugh, you mean?” Stav asked. “Or he was before he took that side trip back to the Dark Kindred home world.”

“I wish you could’ve seen what he did there.” The idea made Charlie uneasy.

“I wish so too,” Stavros said soberly. “But ever since, he hasn’t come near Trin or Thrace. He’s been spending time in a ship—just orbiting Yonnie Six.”

“I wonder how he tracked them there in the first place?” Charlie murmured.

“Well, it is the only place where there’s a demand for Jaxite crystals,” Stav pointed out. “And we know he has ways of tracking people.”

Charlie remembered the tiny, furry creature Two had used as a spy—seeing through its eyes to know where she and Stav had gone during their trip to save Earth from the Dark Kindred.

“That’s true,” she murmured. “You think he planted one of his spy rats on their shuttle somehow?”

Stav shrugged. “Who knows? It’s possible. Anything is possible with Two.”

“True.” Charlie sighed. “Well, he obviously knows where they are. Which makes me worried—what’s going to happen to Thrace and Trin?”

“I don’t know—I pray to the Goddess they will be well.”

Charlie stretched, trying to get rid of some of the tension in her shoulders.

“I guess it’s weird to talk about them like we know them. But since we’ve been seeing all these different pieces of their lives, I kind of feel like we do. It’s like…our own private soap opera playing out right in front of us.”

“With some important pieces missing,” Stav pointed out. “What did Two do when he visited his home world? What is he up to now, orbiting Yonnie Six? And what part of the future did B’Rugh See for him?”

“I guess we could go after him and try to find out,” Charlie suggested although the idea of seeing Two face-to-face again made her stomach twist into knots.

Stavros shook his head. “No. I have the sense that we were given this link to Trin and Thrace and Two to observe, not to act. I think the Goddess will let us know when and if we should get involved.”

“Well, you started seeing them first so I guess you know best,” Charlie said. “Although you never did tell me what caused Trin’s bad dream.”

“It was what I saw in my own vision. I couldn’t see much because the room was dark but there was some kind of control panel. It had a row of vid screens and one of them was showing Trin and Thrace’s room,” Stav explained. “They were sleeping peacefully to start with. Then I saw a hand—I think it was a male hand—turning a knob on the panel. After that, a kind of black, swirling mist filled the area above their bed. Thrace breathed in a lot of it—more than Trin—but after that, she was the one who started thrashing around and moaning.”

“Dream gas?” Charlie asked. “Or maybe that nightmare vapor we saw coming out in some of the bubbles from that weird silver fountain?”

“Possibly,” Stav said.

“But if Thrace breathed in more of it, why did Trin have the nightmare? And who gassed them in the first place?”

“I don’t know.” He shook his head. “But I do know that they are not clear of trouble yet. I pray the Goddess will guide and protect them.”

Charlie sighed. “I guess that’s all we can do. But if I ever meet Trin in person, I’m going to give her a big hug. She could use it.”

Chapter Twenty-two

“Good morning.” Trin smiled as she seated herself beside Lady Malroth at the long table in the huge First Meal Hall. Thankfully, the first meal of the day wasn’t nearly such a formal occasion as dinner. The slaves were eating at a separate table, specially reserved for them, and the mistresses were on their own.

The menu included steaming bright green porridge which smelled sweet and bland and large, curving blue fruits longer than Trin’s arm. When the fruit was opened, however, it was revealed to be mostly thick blue peal. Inside were three to five tiny, tender morsels no bigger than the end of Trin’s thumb.

These sweet, juicy nuggets were apparently quite a delicacy and, after inquiring discretely to be certain they wouldn’t have any strange effects on her, Trin had eaten several of them. They were said to expand in one’s stomach and keep you from being hungry the rest of the day. An effect she was sure she’d be glad of if she had to spend anymore time at Dreaming Hills. Although she had been planning to leave today.

“Good morning, you say?” Lady Malroth demanded, frowning at her. “And what’s good about it, I’d like to know?”

“Well…I…” Trin wasn’t sure what to say to this. She’d been hoping that she’d fulfilled her obligations by attending the feast the night before as Lady Tam-tam had wanted, and that Lady Malroth would consent to make the deal. But Lady Malroth’s lips were pursed as though she’d been sucking on an unripe sour fruit—clearly she wasn’t pleased.

“I heard about your performance—if you can call it that—last night,” Lady Malroth snapped.

“You did?” Trin felt like she might faint from embarrassment. “Did you…see us?” Knowing they were probably being watched and actually having it confirmed were two different things. The idea of Lady Malroth watching her and Thrace do…intimate things made her feel sick with shame.

“No, I didn’t see it,” Lady Malroth snapped, to Trin’s intense relief. “Lady Tam-tam rarely allows anyone inside her private viewing room. But she told me all about it—she was very disappointed. Apparently all you did was let your slave suck your nipples and finger you a little. He didn’t even penetrate you with his tongue—though I understand he kissed you quite a bit!”

“Of course he didn’t penetrate me!” Trin exclaimed, feeling her cheeks get hot. “I’m one of the Unpenetrated—the elite of Zetta Prime.”

“Is that right?” Lady Malroth said nastily. “Well I’m afraid you’ll have to relinquish that title after tonight’s banquet.”

“What are you talking about?” Trin demanded. “I could never let my slave do that. I mean—”

“No, no—I don’t mean you should let him penetrate you with his shaft—we’re not all as depraved as Lady Needra. Imagine—letting her slave put his cock right in her pussy! And at the dinner table no less. Ugh!” Lady Malroth made a face.

“Well, I’m glad you see it the same way I do,” Trin said carefully. “But I wasn’t really planning on being at the feast tonight anyway. I was hoping we could conclude our deal today.”

“What—so you could leave? While Lady Tam-tam is still in such a terrible mood? I don’t think so,” Lady Malroth said flatly. “You will attend tonight’s banquet and you will wear the ritual uniform as will we all.”

“What uniform?” Trin looked down at herself. She had on another of the ridiculous Yonnie Six dresses. This one was scarlet with black lace across her breasts and crotch. It had tiny red and black panties to match. She hated it but could something worse be in store for her? The idea of some kind of “uniform” sounded ominous.

“It’s the celebration of male submission so you must wear a phallus,” Lady Malroth said. “If you didn’t bring your own, you can get one from the slave set up in the corner as you leave. He’s handing them out to everyone who needs one.”

“A phallus?” Trin had heard of such things—the mistresses of Yonnie Six often called such an accoutrement “the rod” and used it to punish wayward slaves. But she’d never thought to wear one herself. “You mean the kind that straps on?” she asked.

Lady Malroth gave her a very unpleasant smirk.

“Among other things.”

“But what if I don’t want to wear one?”

We’re all going to be wearing them tonight—you will as well or the deal is off. You have to at least look like a proper mistress, even if you’re not going to act like one.”

Trin stiffened in her seat.

“I don’t like being threatened, Lady Malroth.”

“And I don’t like being made to look a fool in front of my most important business client,” Lady Malroth snapped. “Your crystals may be good quality and cheap but there are others in the universe, you know. And if you don’t behave like a proper mistress—if you don’t wear what everyone else is wearing and act like everyone else is acting and most important, please Lady Tam-tam—then I will be damn sure you never have an opportunity to sell those crystals anywhere.”

With that, Lady Malroth got up and flounced away, leaving Trin to sit and stare after her and wonder what she was supposed to do. Aside from strapping on a phallus, that was. Please Lady Tam-tam, Lady Malroth had said. But if their “display” from the night before hadn’t made her happy, Trin didn’t know what would. Or rather, she did have an idea of what might please Lady Tam-tam but she didn’t think she could go there.

“Well, she doesn’t seem too happy.” Thrace’s low voice in her ear startled her and she turned to see him standing on the other side of her, a concerned look on her face.

“She’s not,” she said and sighed. “And she doesn’t want to do the deal. Not yet. Not until we ‘please’ Lady Tam-tam by attending the feast tonight.”

“About that,” Thrace growled. “I have some bad news for you—it may be a deal breaker.”

“I know.” Trin’s cheeks felt hot. “I’m supposed to wear a phallus.”

“Huh—thought you’d be more upset about it than that.” Thrace looked surprised.

“Why? I mean, it’s sure to look ridiculous but every mistress is going to be wearing one. Apparently it’s the ‘uniform’ for tonight’s theme.”

“Right—the beauty of male submission.” Thrace sounded grim as he helped her up from the table.

“Don’t worry,” Trin said, squeezing his arm. “I’m sure it’s just for show. I would never use it on you.”

“I would never let you,” he growled.

Trin raised an eyebrow. “What happened to your oath that there was nothing you wouldn’t do for me?”

“Within reason.” He shuttered and for a moment his big hands curled into fists. “I would give you anything in my power, Mistress. But some things…are beyond me.”

The strange look on his face struck a chord with her for some reason. For a moment Trin felt something nibbling at the edges of her memory…she seemed to hear voices echo in her head. Say it—say the words… Stop—don’t do it! Leave him alone… But when she reached for the disturbing thought, it vanished like a puff of smoke.

“I understand,” she said gently. “I feel the same way about such…penetration, as you know.”

“I know.” He took a deep breath and seemed to shake off the strange mood that had come over him. “Which is why it surprised me that you didn’t mind wearing a phallus.”

“What are you talking about? It just straps on. I mean—”

“Good morrow, my lovely lady. And how did you sleep?”

The deep, smooth voice belonged to Lord X who had somehow managed to creep up behind them without either Trin or Thrace noticing him, despite the big black boots he wore.

Trin whirled around, feeling her heart pound for some reason. She really didn’t like this male though she could give no actual reason for her emotions. A low growl from Thrace let her know he felt the same.

“Oh, forgive me—did I startle you?” Lord X smiled unconvincingly—the expression never reached those strange red-black eyes of his.

“No, we’re fine,” Trin said quickly. “Good morning.”

“Good morrow,” he repeated in that odd way of his. “You’re looking very well this morning, may I say.” Taking her hand, he bowed low over it. He was about to kiss it but Thrace grabbed her wrist and jerked her hand away before he could.

“No one touches my lady but me,” he growled.

“Is that right? A pity—I so wanted to taste her soft skin.” Lord X smiled. “May I at least inquire as to how you slept last night, my lady?” he asked Trin.

“Oh…well. Very well indeed,” she said. She knew she ought to reprove Thrace for yanking her hand away but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. She was too relieved not to be touching Lord X to summon any rebuke for the big Havoc.

“Really?” He raised one glossy black eyebrow. “No…bad dreams? No nightmares at all?”

“Of course no—” Trin started to say but the words died on her lips. There was a knowing glint in those cold, red-black eyes. Lord X knew about the horrible dream she’d had last night. But how? Had he been watching them in the private viewing room as well as Lady Tam-tam? The very thought made her feel ill. Apparently Thrace picked up on the idea as well.

“What do you know about it?” he demanded, stepping forward so that he was face to face with the other male. “What do you know about my lady’s night terrors last night?”

“Night terrors you say?” Lord X appeared not the least intimidated. He raised his eyebrows in surprise and made a tsking sound. “My, my—that sounds dreadful. I am so sorry to hear of it, my Lady,” he said to Trin.

“I said, what do you know about it?” Thrace barked.

“Why, nothing but what you’ve just told me.” Lord X raised both hands in a sign of peace. “Forgive me, but I think I see Lady Tam-tam motioning to me. Mustn’t keep our lovely hostess waiting.” With a final knowing smirk, he glided off, his large muscular body moving as smoothly as if he was on wheels.

“That bastard,” Thrace growled, glaring after him. “He knew. Somehow he knew!”

“But how?” Trin asked. “Do you think he could have been watching us? Lady Malroth said that Lady Tam-tam never allows anyone else inside her private viewing room but—”

“Private viewing room?” Thrace interrupted, his eyebrows raised. “Seriously?”

“Yes,” Trin said shortly. “It shouldn’t be a surprise, we knew she, uh, liked to watch.” She dropped her voice, making it for his ears only. “Where did you think she was watching from?”

Thrace shook his head. “I don’t know. I guess I just didn’t expect her to have a whole room devoted to it.” He sighed. “All right. Well, then I guess we should go collect your phallus.”

“I guess we should.” Trin grimaced. This was sure to be embarrassing. She just hoped she wouldn’t have to wear some huge, ridiculous, golden, engraved rod between her thighs for everyone to see. But it sounded like the kind of thing Lady Tam-Tam would require so she’d better get used to the idea.

“Honestly,” she said to Thrace in a low tone as they crossed the vast dining area to where the male slave was sitting in a corner behind a long table. “Speaking of the private viewing room, I’m more worried about the other part of Lady Malroth’s demand than the fact that I have to wear a stupid phallus.”

“What did she say? I only caught the last part,” he murmured, bending his head so they could talk more discretely.

“She said that our ‘performance’ last night didn’t please Lady Tam-tam.” Trin felt herself blushing again. “I mean…can you imagine? After everything we did she’s still not satisfied?”

“All I did was suck your nipples a little and rub your pussy,” Thrace remarked mildly. “Well, and pay obeisance to you with a few kisses. But if she’s used to seeing hard core performances from the likes of Lady Needra and Yorth, it’s probably not surprising that we didn’t please her.”

“Well what we did felt pretty ‘hard core’ to me,” Trin whispered back, her face flushing. “I never dreamed I’d do anything like that with a male. And yet I let you…let you…”

“You let me ease your pain and need,” Thrace reminded her in a soft growl. “Don’t start feeling guilty about it again, Trin. It was necessary.”

“I guess so.” Trin bit her lip. “It’s just…I never expected to do anything like that—you know.”

“I know.” Thrace’s face remained impassive. “Quiet now though—here we are.”

They had arrived in front of the table where she was to pick up her “uniform” for the evening’s feast. There was a male slave in Lady Tam-tam’s purple and orange livery sitting at it. Spread across the table in orderly rows were little velvet bags in different colors. He seemed to have some kind of system for keeping track of them because he was entering information on a lighted implant imbedded in his left forearm.

“Good morning,” Thrace said, addressing the slave who was typing rapidly on his left forearm with his right hand. “My lady Trin needs…ah equipment for tonight’s feast.”

“Forgot your phallus, did you?” The slave looked up from his tapping. “What size do you need?”

“Um…what sizes do you have?” Trin asked. She had a mental image of being forced to walk around with an improbably huge rod strapped to her crotch—probably the bigger it was, the greater the wearer’s status. How awful! “I mean, most likely the smallest but—”

“All right, my lady. It’s not uncommon for a mistress not to know her size.” The slave nodded at Thrace. “Come on—let’s see what you’ve got.”

“What do you want him to do?” Trin asked blankly. “How can he tell you what I should use?”

“Well he can’t really tell me. But he can show me, if you know what I mean.” The slave winked at her in a way that made Trin most uncomfortable. “I mean, we all know how mistresses aren’t supposed to allow their love-slaves to penetrate them. And yet somehow the size of the slave’s cock is almost always the size phallus she needs. So come on—let’s see it.” He reached across the table and twitched the black loin cloth that covered Thrace’s shaft to one side. What he saw made him give a long, low whistle. “Well, extra-extra large it is, then, Mistress.”

“Hey! Hands to yourself, you bastard!” Thrace made a snatch for his wrist but the slave was too quick. He was back across the table and pulling open a black velvet bag before Thrace could catch him.

“Here we are, my lady. One extra-extra large phallus for your pleasure to wear at the Feast of Male Submission tonight.”

He drew a shining metal contraption out of the bag and handed it to her. Trin turned it this way and that—at first her eyes couldn’t make sense of it. It appeared to be two long shafts attached in the middle with a bumpy gold disk.

“I don’t understand,” she said examining the gleaming, curved surfaces. One end was clearly ornamental—it was smooth and gold with fine markings drawn in red and black on its shiny surface. It was fairly slim and very sleek and stylish—if such an implement could be labeled stylish, that was. The other end, however, looked like it was meant to be all business. It was thicker than Trin’s wrist and deep scarlet, made of some shiny material as dark as blood. “What is this?” Trin asked, frowning as she examined both ends.

“Oh—the material? The one side is gold—that’s the end you use on your slave. Well, if you want to, I mean. It’s not required,” the slave explained helpfully. “And the other side is carved from pure heart’s blood. It’s a very rare stone from Caprax Five—quite valuable but you may keep it. Lady Tam-tam says to consider it a ‘party favor.’” He tittered and winked at her. “It’s both useful and pleasurable—it warms to your body heat and stimulates you as it moves within you.”

“Within you?” Trin began to get a very bad feeling in the pit of her stomach. “What do you mean within you? Where…where are the straps to hold it on?”

“Oh, no straps are needed, my lady,” the slave answered. “Once the heart’s blood end of the shaft is inserted into your…ahem…womanhood, it remains in place no matter how, ah vigorous your activity, until you choose to remove it. It’s intuitive, do you see? That’s what makes it so rare and valuable. Oh—and the bumps on the central disk are pleasure-givers. They’ll stimulate your outer areas Your…ahem…love button so to speak.”

Through all his chatter, only a few words had made it through to Trin’s brain.

“Inserted into my…womanhood? This?” She stared at the thick, blood-red shaft curving from the bumpy golden disk.

“Well…yes, my lady.” The slave looked perplexed. “That’s how you wear it. Haven’t you ever worn a phallus before?”

“I…I don’t…” Trin was almost speechless.

“My lady doesn’t need this.” Thrace took the strange device from her and dropped it into the slave’s hands.

“Oh yes she does,” the slave countered, trying to hand it back. “If she wants to be properly dressed and admitted to the feast tonight. No mistress will be allowed in without one, I can promise you that.”

“Very well,” Thrace growled. “Then give us the smallest you’ve got.”

“The smallest?” The slave looked as though he couldn’t believe it. “But you know, the heart’s blood stone is so valuable. Most mistresses are choosing to take an even larger size than they normally would just so they can have a more costly souvenir to take home.”

“I don’t give a good Goddess-damn about any of that,” Thrace snapped. “Give me the smallest you’ve got now.”

The slave shrugged his narrow shoulders.

“As you wish.”

He put the huge double ended phallus back into its black velvet bag carefully and then reached for one on the other end of the table. It came in a light blue bag and when he pulled it out, the heart’s blood end was a bit shorter and much more slender. This one, Trin estimated numbly, was barely as big as two of her fingers put together.

“Here you go.” He tried to hand it to Trin but she stepped back from the table, her hands behind her back. Shrugging again, he gave it to Thrace instead. “Good feasting, my lady,” he told her. “And if you wish to break in your new phallus, may I suggest you do that soon. The festivities begin early tonight.”

Chapter Twenty-three

“Goddess…” Trin paced around the vast room, her hands still clutched behind her back. Thrace sat on the sleeping platform, the light blue velvet bag held loosely in one large hand and watched her. He couldn’t recall ever seeing her so agitated.

“Mistress?” he asked, concerned at the wild look in her eyes. “Trin?”

“I can’t…” She paced back and forth, her long scarlet dress rustling as she moved. “I can’t.”

“I understand,” Thrace said gently. Honestly, he had expected nothing else. She’d been raised in a religion built around being unpenetrated—unsullied by allowing herself to be filled. It wasn’t surprising that the teachings of her childhood still had a vast influence on her—Thrace still remembered the things his own Sire had taught him so many years ago.

“But if I don’t do it…” She stopped pacing for a moment and looked down at her hands. “If I don’t wear it, I’ll never sell those damn crystals. I won’t be able to make the last payment on The Alacrity…or pay my crew…or buy enough fuel to do another mission. If I don’t wear it, I’m screwed—figuratively speaking.” She gave a jagged laugh that worried Thrace even more. “And if I do wear it I’m literally screwed. Looks like I’m screwed either way.”

“Come here.” He laid down the blue velvet bag on the bed and reached out a hand to her. “Come here and let’s talk about it.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” But she came to him anyway.

“We’ll find a way to make it work.” Thrace took her small hands in his—she was cold, he noticed—probably with shock. He rubbed her hands gently, trying to warm her up. “We have enough fuel to make it to the nearest station. I can get some work there—I’m a hell of a mechanic when I have to be. We’ll earn enough eventually.”

Trin gave that bitter laugh again.

“Eventually. But the payment on The Alacrity is already past due and the interest is mounting up.” She sighed. “I guess I could ask my mother for credit…but I don’t want to do that. I’ve never borrowed from anyone. I make my own way.”

“I respect that about you,” Thrace said evenly. “All right, so let’s talk about the other way. Tell me about your religion. Do you believe you’ll be damned for all eternity if you allow yourself to be penetrated?”

“Well…no.” Trin shook her head. “No, it’s not like that exactly. Really, if you go by the letter of the law it says that only allowing yourself to be penetrated by a male’s shaft is blasphemy—an affront to the Goddess herself.”

“What about being penetrated in other ways? With other objects or…” Thrace cleared his throat. “Other body parts?”

“What…you mean like…fingers?” Trin’s creamy cheeks went dark with a blush.

“Or the phallus.” He nodded at the blue velvet bag where the hated implement rested. “Is that forbidden?”

“Well…not forbidden per say but if it happened—if I wore it—I could certainly no longer call myself one of the Unpenetrated.”

“And how important is that to you?” Thrace asked. He wanted to know for his own curiosity too—not just the situation at hand. “How does it affect your life? Is there some kind of grand parade or celebration back home on Zetta Prime where all the Unpenetrated get to march down the street waving flags or something?”

“No, of course not.” Trin gave a startled little laugh and he was glad to see the agitation fading from her dark eyes. “Nothing like that—it’s private. I mean it’s just…it’s between you and the Goddess.”

“And do you believe the Goddess would never forgive you if you lost your status as one of the Unpenetrated?” Thrace asked.

“Well…I mean, it’s not like all daughters of Zetta Prime are called to it…” Trin hesitated, nibbling her lower lip in a way Thrace found distractingly erotic. “Most of them pair up with another female and they penetrate each other with long silver rods for sexual pleasure. If they want to—it’s not required or anything. Some of them prefer…other forms of stimulation.”

“So most the females who pair up, they’re not Unpenetrated and the Goddess of Judgment still loves them, right?” Thrace asked.

Slowly, she nodded. “Well…yes. I mean, she doesn’t really love anyone. It’s more like…she approves of you.”

“So if wearing the phallus won’t damn you to the Seven Hells and no one back home will ever know about it, then why not just wear the damn thing?” Thrace asked reasonably. “I mean, it’s only for one evening, right?”

“I suppose…” Trin bit her lip again. “It’s just…”

“Just what?” he said gently.

“Just that…Goddess, I feel like such an idiot saying this.” She sighed and ran a hand through her long, dark hair. “It’s just that what if it hurts? I mean, I’ve never had anything up there before. The daughters of Zetta prime don’t have any kind of barrier—what they call a maidenhead—like they do in some species. But still, we’re very tight and my entire life I’ve been taught I should never put anything up there and I just…” She sighed and sank down on the bed beside him. “I guess I’m afraid. Stupid, huh?”

“Well, coming from the female who was brave enough to walk into the Demon’s Eye by herself…” Thrace began.

“Like I said, stupid.”

“No. Uncertain. Cautious. And there’s nothing wrong with that.” He took her hand again and laced their fingers together. “What if I told you I could help you wear it without pain? That I could put it into you and give you nothing but pleasure, no matter how tight you are?”

“What? How?” Trin frowned. “Do you have some kind of ritual?”

“A ritual?”

“Yes. Before they make a life bond, females on my planet have an entire ritual they go through to get each other ready for the silver penetration rods. Is it something like that?”

“Well…not exactly like that but…” Thrace frowned, trying to think the best way to put it. “Look, with any female, the key to not hurting her when you, well…when you penetrate her, is getting her ready first.”

“Ready? As in…?”

“As in aroused.” He looked into her eyes. “You need to be hot—sexually hot enough to take the shaft inside you without pain. I can help you with that.”

“I…” Trin was back to nibbling her lip. “How?”

Thrace shrugged. “Mostly by doing the same things we did last night. Sucking your nipples…rubbing your pussy.”

“Oh, um…” Trin’s creamy cheeks were growing dark again.

“But in order to absolutely guarantee you have no pain, you’ll have to let me go a little further than before,” Trace murmured.

“Further…how?” she whispered.

“Well, rubbing your pussy won’t be enough. I’ll need to taste it—taste you—too.”

“You will?” Was her breathing a little faster? “Why?”

“I have…compounds in my saliva that will help you open.”

“You do?” Her eyes widened. “Is that some kind of a Havoc trait?”

Thrace nodded. “It is. You may have noticed I’m not exactly…small.” He nodded to the area between his thighs. “Well, no Havoc is. So to compensate and ease the way for any female we make love with, our bodies produce chemicals that help even the tightest and smallest female open. It’s not that unusual—some of the Kindred produce similar chemicals for their females.”

“But in order to do that…to help me open…”

“I’d have to lick you. A lot,” Thrace emphasized. “And not just on your outer pussy. I’ll need to put my tongue deep inside you.”

“You’re sure that’s necessary?” Her voice sounded soft and breathless.

Thrace nodded slowly. “It’s the only way to be sure you can open with no pain.” He tried to speak nonchalantly, as though it was no big deal. As thought the idea of spreading her creamy thighs and licking her sweet, wet pussy while she moaned and trembled under his tongue didn’t make him hard as a rock. “Also,” he murmured, “It’ll be a good way to get you used to penetration…a good way to work up to wearing the phallus.”

“Get me used to it? How…how exactly do you mean?” She was definitely breathing faster now and the warm, feminine scent of her arousal was filling the air around them.

“What I mean,” Thrace said in a low voice, looking into her eyes, “Is if I penetrate you very softly and gently, first with my tongue and then with my fingers, you’ll be much more open and ready to take that damn shaft inside you too.” He nodded at the blue velvet bag.

“So…you don’t just want to put the phallus in me. You want put parts of yourself as well.” Trin frowned but her heartbeat was galloping—Thrace could hear it. He was so attuned to her right now he felt like he could have heard her breathing a parsec away.

“I want to work you up to it—get you ready for it. Remember, you’re going to be wearing it all night. You need to feel comfortable and open before you put it in,” he reminded her.

“And you’re sure you’re not just offering to do this because you want to…to touch me that way. To taste me?” Trin looked skeptically at the hard ridge of flesh which had risen under the black loincloth covering the opening in the crotchless black leather trousers he wore.

Thrace cupped her cheek. “Baby,” he said softly. “I honestly want to help you through this. But I’d be lying to you and to myself if I said I didn’t want to get on my knees and worship your pussy with my tongue. Because that’s what it is,” he went on before she could protest. “Worship—a sacrament. To my people, anyway.”

“I thought the Havoc didn’t bond,” Trin whispered breathlessly.

“We don’t. Well, we try not to.” Thrace sighed. “But when we taste a female, we take it very seriously. Many of my kind believe it is an offering to the Goddess—the Mother of All Life. I know you think of it as some kind of blasphemy but to us it is the ultimate act of devotion and worship. If not to the Mother herself, then to the female we adore.” He lifted her hand and placed a slow, hot kiss in her palm. “Plus, we absolutely fucking love to do it.”

“Why?” Trin asked, her voice trembling a little. “What pleasure could you get from it?”

“The pleasure of having a beautiful woman spread out before you, her most tender and intimate places exposed, her sweet pussy wet and trembling and ready…” Thrace licked his lips, picturing how Trin would look in such a situation. “Then, the first taste…the drag of your tongue across her cleft, the sweet, salty flavor of her juices…the way she moans and gasps when you trace her clit with the tip of your tongue…when you press lower and thrust it inside her…”

“Oh…” The word was a long sigh escaping her lush lips.

“The way she trembles under your mouth as you bring her to the edge,” Thrace continued, unable to stop himself. “The way she pulls your hair and begs and calls your name when she gets close…and the way her pussy gushes with honey when she comes under your tongue.” He let out a low growl of desire. “There’s nothing like it in the universe. Nothing I’d rather do.” He looked at Trin. “I’d like to do it with you. Will you let me?”

* * * * *

Trin looked at him uncertainly. Those hot, forbidden words he’d been saying had made her feel shaky inside—like everything from the waist down had turned to molten lust. She’d never been affected like this by anyone before. No one had ever made her feel weak with need, just by talking to her.

But he’s a male! You shouldn’t do this—you know it’s wrong!

She knew the guilty little voice in her head spoke the truth. But… it sounded like letting him taste her was the only way she could wear the heart’s blood phallus inside herself without having any pain. And considering how tight and tiny she was, Trin honestly felt like it was necessary.

Riiiiight. And that’s the only reason you want to do it, the little voice murmured sarcastically.

No, not the only reason, Trin admitted to herself. She looked at Thrace who was sitting there quietly beside her, waiting to hear what she would say. He was being patient but there was a lust burning far back in his piercing silver-blue eyes that made her stomach feel fluttery and strange.

He really wants to do this, she thought. And I want to let him. And…I’m going to let him. After all, it’s not really blasphemy unless he penetrates me with his shaft. True, I won’t be one of the Unpenetrated anymore but that can’t be helped. And anyway, it’s only just this once. After we get finished here I’ll leave Yonnie Six and never think about what I had to do here again.

She had almost rationalized it to herself but there was still one thing bothering her. The idea that she wasn’t only agreeing to this out of necessity.

“Well?” Thrace rumbled softly, watching her through half-lidded eyes.

Trin looked up at him.

“I…I shouldn’t want you to do this,” she whispered at last, trying to put her thoughts into words. “I shouldn’t want this.”

“But you do.” It was a statement, not a question. “I’m a male and you should want nothing to do with me. You shouldn’t want to spread your thighs for me and let me lap your soft little cunt until you come all over my face.”

“Thrace…” She hitched in a breath and crossed her legs under the scarlet dress, pressing her thighs together. Already her nipples were tight and achy and her pussy was throbbing and he’d done nothing but talk to her about what he wanted to do.

No…what he’s going to do, Trin told herself and knew it was so.

“But you’re going to let me anyway, aren’t you, baby?” he murmured. “You’re going to open for me and let me taste you…let me get you nice and wet so I can slide that shaft deep into your hot little pussy.”

“I…yes. I guess so.” Goddess, what was it about him? Why did he affect her so intensely?

“Come here then.” He pulled her towards him gently and leaned down to kiss her. Trin moved her head so that his lips fell on the corner of her mouth.

“Wait—now? But the feast isn’t until tonight.”

He raised his eyebrows. “You’ve got something else you want to do—want to visit the ornamental gardens or suck some more dream gas bubbles from the fountain?”

“Well…no.” Trin looked down at her hands.

“Look at me.” He lifted her chin gently and looked into her eyes. “I want to take my time with you, baby. Want to open you and kiss you and taste you until you’re as hot as you can possibly be before I put that damn phallus inside you. That takes time, especially when you’re all keyed up and nervous.”

“Well…” Trin sighed. “All right, I guess. So…how do we start?”

“Slowly,” he murmured, stroking her cheek. “Slowly…with just a kiss.”

“A kiss? Like this?” Daring greatly, Trin leaned up and touched her lips to his, initiating a kiss between them for the first time.

Thrace growled in approval at her newfound boldness. He kissed her back, eagerly but gently, parting her lips with his and teasing her delicately with his tongue. Showing her, perhaps, the way he planned to penetrate her.

Her heart started beating faster at the thought and she would have pulled away from the kiss but Thrace ended it first.

“That was nice,” he murmured. “But that wasn’t exactly where I meant to kiss you.”

“You…you mean…”

Slowly, he nodded. “Remember how I kissed you when I offered you obeisance?”

“Yes,” Trin whispered.

“Well, I thought we could start slowly. Like that.”

“Okay.” She lifted her chin and tried to sound calm. She had committed herself to doing this and she wasn’t about to back out now. “So…do you need me standing up?” she asked.

Thrace shook his head. “First I need you naked. It’s going to be hard to get to you with all the lace and frills in the way.” He flicked at the red dress she’d put on that morning contemptuously.

“Completely naked?”

“Mmm-hmm.” He nodded.

“All right…”Trin felt reluctant, even though he’d seen her in that state the night before. And you slept naked in his arms, reminded the little voice in her head helpfully. Don’t forget that. You might as well just strip down and stop making such a big deal about it.

Stiffening her resolve, she started to do exactly that, but Thrace intervened.

“Let me, Mistress,” he murmured, looking into her eyes. Trin let him and he helped her off with the red, flouncy dress and tossed it carelessly on the back of a chair. In a way, it was a relief to get it off—the lace on that particular dress was extremely itchy. But now Trin felt cold and exposed. She had the urge to try and cover herself with her hands but instead she stood there, her back straight, trying not to shiver.

Thrace seemed to know what was wrong because instead of starting at once, he pulled her into a warm embrace, wrapping his muscular arms around her and holding her close to his broad chest.

The minute their bodies connected and his warm, spicy scent filled her nose, Trin felt an immediate easing of the anxiety that had threatened to overwhelm her.

“Mmm,” she murmured, pressing her cheek to the hollow of his throat and inhaling deeply. “I love the way you smell. I’ve never smelled anything like your scent before.”

“No one has,” Thrace murmured. “You’re smelling my bonding scent—the Kindred have it too. It’s a trait we share with them.”

“Bonding scent?” She frowned up at him.

“A special scent our bodies produce to draw a chosen female to us. Don’t worry,” he said lightly. “It doesn’t mean I’m going to try and bond you to me. It just means I want you…want to do this badly. To pleasure you. To worship your body with mine.”

“Oh, Thrace…” His soft words affected her deeply because she could hear the sincerity in his tone. He really wanted to bring her pleasure and to help her through this ordeal. This wasn’t just a business transaction or paying off a debt—the big Havoc cared for her in a way that went beyond any of that.

And maybe you care for him too, whispered a little voice in her head. Maybe you…love him? But that was ridiculous—a daughter of Zetta Prime couldn’t love a male. She just felt close to him because they were in a tight situation and he was her only ally. Right?

“Mistress…” He cupped her cheek in one gentle hand and looked down into her eyes. “May I offer you obeisance again? May I kiss between your thighs and bring you pleasure?”

“Yes,” Trin whispered and this time there was no hesitation…no guilt. She wanted to feel his mouth on her again, as she had the night before. And she trusted him to be gentle, to not hurt or rush her. He had said he wanted to take his time…she was willing to let him.

“Lie down then.” Thrace arranged her at the end of the sleeping platform so that her lower legs hung over the side. He got one of the long bolster pillows and put it on the floor in front of her.

Trin propped herself up on her elbows and watched his preparations with a fast beating heart.

“For my knees,” he explained, when he saw her watching. “I plan to be here a long time and the floor gets damn hard after awhile.”

“Oh,” she whispered. Now that she was out of his arms, not pressed to his chest, the uncertainty was beginning to creep in again. Thrace seemed to sense that because he knelt before her and leaned forward to wrap his long arms around her waist. He wasn’t between her legs, just to one side of her, yet the warmth of his big body seemed to surround her and calm her down again.

“It’s okay, baby,” he murmured, rubbing his warm, scratchy cheek against her belly. “Just relax. Relax and let me make you feel good.”

At his urging, Trin allowed herself to lay back against the sleeping platform. Thrace had placed several pillows for her head as well, so that she could be elevated enough to see exactly what he was doing.

He knelt before her, his hands on her upper thighs and met her gaze.

“Slowly,” he murmured. “Gently. I just want to offer you my obeisance, Mistress.”

“All right…” At his urging, Trin allowed her thighs to drift apart. Thrace settled between them, his broad shoulders splitting her wide.

“Gods,” he murmured hoarsely, his eyes flicking over her wet core. “So fucking beautiful.” He inhaled. “And your scent is so delicious. It will be a pleasure to worship you with my mouth, my lady.” He ran his big, warm hands up her thighs and framed her pussy with his long fingers. Then slowly, reverently, he parted her swollen outer lips with his thumbs, revealing her inner folds.

Trin was embarrassed to see that she was already glistening with honey. Apparently no matter what the judgmental little voice in her head said, her body wanted this—wanted it badly.

“Thrace…” She bit her lip, tensing her thighs.

“Just a kiss at first,” he reminded her soothingly. “Just an obeisance. But I need you to be open so that I can kiss you properly. As you were last night, remember?”

The reminder that they had already done this the night before put Trin somewhat at ease.

“All right,” she whispered, feeling some of the tension in her legs ease. Thrace must have felt it too because he leaned forward and nuzzled her inner thigh very gently with his cheek.

Trin moaned softly at the scratch of his stubble against her tender flesh. It felt good—as though he was igniting her nerves, getting her ready for the fire he was going to set with his mouth.

“So fucking gorgeous,” she heard him mutter hoarsely, and then he kissed her as softly as he had the night before.

As it had been last night, the kiss was soft and reverent…but this one was much deeper. This time she didn’t sense that he was trying to hold back from licking or tasting her. She felt his tongue, hot and wet and eager, press fully against her open slit as he kissed her. The sensation sent shivers of desire through her whole body and she trembled under his mouth, her nipples tightening into tight points of pure desire.

When he pulled back, his mouth was already wet and shiny with her juices. His eyes were half-lidded, almost drugged with need.

“Gods, Mistress…” He licked his lips, his voice a hoarse growl. “You’re so delicious. Did that feel good?”

“You know it did.” Trin found that her hips were thrusting, making little wanting motions towards his mouth that she didn’t seem to have any control over. Now that she’d finally felt his tongue on her in this most sensitive area, her body was going into overdrive. “I need more,” she confessed, half ashamed but unable to deny her need.

“I do too. So much more.” His eyes blazed. “Are you ready to let me kiss you deeper now? To spread your pussy open and taste your clit?”

Trin bit her lip. “All right,” she whispered. “Yes, I…I want that.”

“Good. Relax, Mistress.” He stroked her thighs again soothingly though his eyes were still filled with lust. “Let me pay a special obeisance to the center of your pleasure.”

Trin watched as he spread her even wider, his broad shoulders pressing against her inner thighs and his thumbs opening her until there were no secrets left. Her inner pussy was berry dark and wet with honey and the little button of her clit stood out prominently, throbbing with need, as though begging for his special attention.

“Beautiful,” he whispered, and bent to kiss her again.

This time he concentrated directly on her clit, placing a hot, open-mouthed kiss on the swollen little bump and tracing it gently with the tip of his tongue.

Trin gasped as jagged spikes of pleasure flashed through her and then he sucked the sensitive little bundle of nerves into his mouth and bathed it with his tongue, licking until she couldn’t hold still, couldn’t keep her hips from moving up to meet him. A sensation was building inside her…a need that was filling her up. As he continued to lick and suck her clit, her breath began coming harder and faster and she knew she was getting close.

“Thrace…” she moaned, her hips bucking to his rhythm. “Oh, Goddess…that feels…”

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” he said, pulling away to Trin’s disappointment. “And you’re already getting close—I can feel it in the way you’re tensing up.”

“Yes,” she admitted, halfway ashamed. Goddess, he hadn’t even been kissing her pussy for two minutes and already she was almost at the peak!

“That’s good—I love that you’re so turned on. So close. But I don’t want you to come yet.” Thrace kissed her inner thigh gently. “Not until I’m ready to put the shaft inside you. The hotter you are, the easier it’ll be to get it in. But first, I need to lick you open.”

Trin felt her breath catch in her throat.

“You mean, put your tongue…”

“Deep in your pussy, yes baby,” he murmured, kissing her other thigh. “So I need you to lean back and open yourself just as wide as you can. Remember, the deeper I can get inside you, the easier it will be later when you need to wear the phallus.”

“All right.”

Trin bit her lip. This was it. In a moment, she could no longer call herself one of the Unpenetrated. And yet, though she felt some trepidation and, far in the back of her mind, deep guilt, the emotion that was strongest was need…desire. She wanted to feel him in her, even though she knew she shouldn’t. “Thrace,” she whispered. “Please…”

“I know what you need, baby,” he murmured. “And I’m going to give it to you…all of it. But I need you even more open…like this.” He lifted her legs and put them over his shoulders, raising her hips and supporting her with his hands under her bottom.

“Oh…” Trin was surprised at how much more open this new position made her. Her pelvis was tilted up now, giving the big Havoc direct access to her entrance.

“Gods, this part of your body is so sweet and soft,” Thrace murmured. Leaning down, he traced the opening to her body—which was still tightly shut—very gently with the tip of his tongue.

Trin gasped and shivered. In me. Oh Goddess, he’s going to go inside me now!

But he didn’t. Instead he looked into her eyes while he leaned down to kiss her clit again. When he looked up he said, “You’re not ready yet.”

“But…I thought you said I was.”

“You almost are.” He kissed her little pearl once more, making her shiver. “Before I do this, before I penetrate you, I want to give you a little more pleasure. Or rather, I want you to pleasure yourself on me.”

“What…what do you mean?” Trin’s voice came out high and breathless—she couldn’t help it.

“I mean, I’m going to press my tongue against your pussy and hold it there—just hold it steady. And you work yourself against me—rub your soft little cunt into my face. Get right up to the edge but don’t come…not yet.”

“I…don’t know about this.” Trin felt uncertain.

“You can do it.” Thrace licked her slowly, letting the tip of his tongue tease delicately around her entrance and even dip down to press very lightly against her there, almost entering her for a moment before pulling back. “Use me for your pleasure, Mistress. Make me earn your approval,” he growled softly.

Trin understood what he was doing—putting her in control of the situation. Letting her take things as far as she wanted them to go before he finally took over again. She loved how he was able to mix things up—to make her feel strong and powerful in one moment when he called her “Mistress” and soft and protected the next when she was suddenly “baby.” How could he switch so fluidly from one role to another? From the sexual dominant to the willing slave in a breath? He just seemed to know exactly what she needed from moment to moment—it was amazing. And also incredibly hot.

“All right,” she whispered and nodded.

Thrace nodded back and pressed the flat of his tongue hard against her open pussy, enveloping her in his heat and warmth, making her writhe against him involuntarily.

He gave a low groan when her hips began to move of their own volition and Trin felt the soft rasp of his scratchy cheeks against her inner thighs and the pleasure of his tongue rubbing against her sensitive clit. It sent sparks of pleasure through her entire body, making her feel like she was on fire.

She did it again, on purpose this time, rubbing against him, giving herself pleasure with his mouth as he had asked her to do, bringing herself closer and closer to the edge with each exquisite burst of friction.

She could feel herself getting hotter and wetter, her juices overflowing as she rubbed against him. Thrace moaned deep in his throat and his hands tightened on her ass, helping to push her up towards his face. It was clear he was enjoying this every bit as much as she was. Every once in a while she could feel him swallowing and knew he was drinking from her, tasting her honey right from the source. The knowledge made her even hotter and Trin fisted her hands in the bedspread on either side of her and rubbed harder, working her hips, riding his face shamelessly.

“Goddess,” she moaned. “Oh, please…”

Thrace had told her not to come but she couldn’t help herself—she was going to go over the edge. She could feel the orgasm coming, rising from inside her, waiting to crash over her in a hungry wave of sensation.

But just as she felt she was nearly at the edge of no return, he pulled his tongue away from her hungry clit and looked up at her.

“Now you’re ready,” he murmured. Wrapping his arms around her thighs, he split her even wider and leaned down to thrust his tongue deep into her soft, unprotected pussy entrance.

“Ahhh!” Trin gasped aloud as she felt his hot, wet tongue slide into her. With one swift move, he had penetrated her almost to the core and yet, she felt no pain—none at all. There was only the pleasure of feeling him inside her. Amazed at the sensation, she bucked up against him, helping him as he tongue-fucked her as deeply as he could, thrusting hard into her aching core.

Goddess, it felt amazing. Nothing like what she’d been warned would happen if she ever allowed herself to be penetrated. There was no pain at all. True, she was a little tight and uncertain at first but as he licked her deeper and deeper, she felt herself begin to loosen up, to open to him and give him greater access to her most hidden and intimate places.

Thrace must have felt it too because he drew back yet again and looked up at her.

“Fingers now,” he murmured, holding up one large hand. “Just one to start with and then one more if you can tolerate it, baby. All right?”

“All right.” She was no longer Unpenetrated, Trin told herself. It should be all right to let him put his fingers inside her as well as his tongue. Although they did look awfully thick…

“It’s all right, baby,” he murmured, obviously reading the uncertainty on her face. “I licked you nice and deep—you’ll be able to open now.”

Trin decided to trust him.

“Okay,” she whispered, making an effort to relax. “Go ahead. Just…go slow.”

“Always, baby,” he reassured her in a low rumble. “Just relax and let me take care of you.”

Then he leaned down to lick and sucked her clit again. At the same time, Trin felt his fingertip teasing gently around her entrance, just as his tongue had earlier. She moaned softly as it slipped inside her, just a little way at first and then deeper, as he searched for the end of her channel. She relaxed when she realized she felt no pain and she barely even gasped when he slipped a second finger in, filling her tight sheath in a way it had never been filled before.

“All right, baby?” Thrace asked, looking up from his licking as he fucked gently in and out of her pussy with the two thick fingers. “Feels all right?”

“Feels…different,” Trin admitted with a breathless moan. “I’ve never… I mean, it feels good.” It did, too. The blunt ends of his fingertips pressing against the end of her channel, the sensation of her body being stretched around his…it seemed to wake up nerves she hadn’t known she possessed and those nerves were all about pleasure. “Feels…amazing.”

“You like it when I finger-fuck your soft little pussy?” Thrace’s eyes were half-lidded with desire. “You like it when I fill you with my fingers and make you moan?”

“I…I do,” Trin admitted, rolling her hips in time with his rhythm. “I didn’t…didn’t think it was possible that this would actually feel good but…oh Goddess,” she moaned as he pressed deep inside her. “It does, Thrace—it really does!”

“Because your sweet little pussy needs it. Needs to be fucked. Needs to be opened,” he growled, his eyes glowing silver with need. “Gods it makes me so hot to watch you lean back and take it like this, lean back and open yourself for my fingers and tongue.”

“Thrace!” As always the dirty words spoken in his low, growling voice seemed to set off something inside her. “Please, I’m close…so close.”

“I know you are, baby and I’m going to make you come. But when you do, it’s going to be with the shaft inside you.”

“It is?” Trin felt a surge of trepidation. “But I thought you said you wouldn’t put it in until after I came.”

“Change of plans,” he growled. “I think you need to watch it slide inside you and get used to it before you start coming. Having an orgasm is going to cause you to tighten up a little—better you should tighten with it inside you to start with than for me to try and put it in while you’re all clenched up from pleasure.”

“Okay.” Trin nodded—she had to admit what he said made sense.

He pulled back for a moment and reached for the light blue bag. Slowly he withdrew the double ended phallus. Trin bit her lip so hard she tasted blood when he turned the deep red end towards her. Oh Goddess, was she really going through with this? Thrace’s tongue had been soft and gentle and his fingers had been thick but pleasurable, but they were part of him—part of the male she trusted. This thing was cold and ungiving and foreign. She didn’t want to feel it sliding inside her, filling her as Thrace had with his fingers and tongue.

But what choice did she have?

“Slowly,” he murmured, as if reading her thoughts. “Gently, Mistress. You know I won’t hurt you.”

He had unwound his arms from around her thighs but he was still between them, his broad shoulders keeping her spread wide apart…open…and vulnerable.

Trin jumped and gasped when he pressed the rounded red tip of the phallus against her entrance but Thrace didn’t try to thrust it in right away. Instead he waited, just holding it in place, letting her get used to the feel of it rubbing against her.

To her surprise it wasn’t cold and hard as she had feared. The heart’s blood stone was warm as blood and while not exactly soft, it was at least very smooth and silky to touch.

“There, see?” Thrace raised an eyebrow at her. “It’s not so bad, right?”

“I…guess not,” Trin whispered. “It’s bigger than I thought it was, though.”

“Only a little bigger than my two fingers,” he murmured reassuringly. “I’m going to slide it into you slowly, Mistress. And while I do, I’m going to stroke your sweet little clit. You just let yourself open up and ride it for me—take it in deep and slow. Let me penetrate you and when you’re ready, let yourself come.”

Those forbidden words spoken in his deep, soft voice seemed to do something to her insides. Trin felt like she was melting from the waist down and for a moment she actually wished it was Thrace’s shaft that would be sliding deep into her pussy rather than the heart’s blood phallus.

Don’t be ridiculous, whispered the little voice in her head fiercely. You know that can never be. It would be a slap in the face of the Goddess! Blasphemy!

Trin pushed the thought away. She didn’t want to feel guilty right now. She just wanted to give in to the sensations Thrace was giving her, give in to the pleasure of letting him touch her and taste her and fill her completely.

As if reading her feelings on her face, Thrace began to push the carved phallus gently into her open pussy. At the same time, the broad pad of his fingertip began a slow, caressing slide along the side of her swollen clit.

“Gently, baby,” he murmured, stroking her until Trin felt sparks of pleasure shooting through her entire body. “Watch the shaft enter you. Watch it open that hot little pussy.”

“Thrace…” she moaned softly as he slid another thick inch inside her.

“Yes, baby? Does it feel all right?”

“Feels good,” Trin admitted. “Feels…better than all right.”

“Just wait until it’s all the way in you.” He pressed in deeper, his fingertip on her clit beginning to speed up. “Wait until you feel it all the way inside you, hitting the back of your channel, filling you up completely.”

“Will….will it be good?” Trin gasped, her eyes locked with his as he pressed the shaft deeper into her.

“So good,” Thrace promised. “Better than my fingers…but not as good as my cock.”

“Your…you mean if you…”

“If I fucked you for real?” His voice was a deep, lustful growl. “If you allowed yourself to be truly penetrated, Mistress?”

“But I wouldn’t…I couldn’t…” The forbidden thought was deeply distressing. All the same, her body wasn’t coming down from the physical high he was giving her. In fact, if anything the illicit idea was making her heart race faster and her breath come harder.

“I know…” Thrace’s eyes were on her, watching her reactions, no doubt judging what she was feeling, gauging how much she wanted to hear. “But just imagine what it would be like,” he murmured, pressing the phallus deeper into her. “Imagine looking down and seeing my cock sliding into your wet, open pussy…filling you…stretching you like this little thing can’t.” He nodded contemptuously at the heart’s blood phallus which was more than halfway inside her right now.

“Imagine the two of us being so close—imagine me inside you, my arms wrapped around you while you sat on my lap and lowered yourself down, taking me in…taking me at your own pace but taking me deep when you were ready. So fucking deep, baby. All…the way…to the end.”

As he spoke, Trin felt the head of the heart’s blood shaft kiss the mouth of her womb and she threw back her head and moaned, feeling her pussy contract around the hard shaft inside her.

“See how good it can feel?” Thrace murmured, his eyes never leaving her face. “Gods, look at your little pussy all stretched open around that shaft. Imagine if that was me, filling you up, getting ready to fuck you so deep…to come deep inside you.”

“Stop!” Trin gasped. “Oh, Goddess, you know…you know that’s so wrong.”

But if it was really so wrong, why did her body react so strongly to his hot, dirty words? Why did her hips roll up to meet him…why did her pleasure suddenly reach a peak and explode, making her cry out and ball her hands into fists as her toes curled and her back arched? Why did she come so hard, her pussy gripping the carved heart’s blood phallus and why did she wish so much that it had been Thrace’s shaft that made her come?

“That’s right, baby,” she heard him said in a low, hungry growl. “That’s right, come for me. Just let yourself go and come for me.”

Trin had no choice. She couldn’t stop herself—didn’t want to stop herself. She just wanted to ride the crest of pleasure as it washed her away and let her throbbing body explode in a rush of light as Thrace stroked her and talked to her. She just wanted to let go and come for him.

Chapter Twenty-four

At last the pleasure seemed to ease and Trin began to float slowly down from the intense orgasm she’d had. Still between her legs, Thrace watched her face for signs that she was coming back to herself.

Gods, she was beautiful when she came! He couldn’t help replaying the moment of her orgasm in his mind. The way her hands had fisted and her toes had curled—her back arching and her breathing coming in long, breathless moans. Her eyes squeezed shut and her full breasts heaving, her nipples tight points of desire as dark as ripe, luscious berries. And the sight of the heart’s blood phallus buried deep in her pussy—invading her, opening her in the way he wanted to do himself—was incredibly hot.

So hot that he had come himself at the same time, just from opening her and the slight friction of rubbing against the side of the sleeping platform as he watched her lose control. And as he came, he felt something inside himself changing—shifting irrevocably onto a new path.

He had reached what some Havoc called the Crux—the point of no return.

Coming together like that with her sweet honey still on his lips had been what tipped him over the edge, and Thrace knew it. The Crux was what all Havoc males feared and tried to avoid. The irrevocable commitment of mind, body, and soul to a female. It didn’t always happen when a Havoc broke his vow not to seek bonding with a female and gave his heart but when it did, it was undeniable and completely irreversible.

He’d thought he was lost before but now…now he really was. With the Crux reached, he was completely hers in every way. And yet he couldn’t bring himself to be sorry for it. He was more concerned about Trin.

He wondered if he had gone too far, speaking his fantasies aloud to her while she was on the brink of coming. And yet, his forbidden words hadn’t seemed to dampen her desire. If anything, it seemed she had come harder and faster once he started talking, started telling her what he wished he could do to her.

“Thrace?” Her soft voice drew his attention from the blood red phallus still inside her up to her face.

“Yes?” He looked up at her and saw an expression of uncertainty on her lovely features. “What’s wrong, baby?” he murmured.

“It’s still in me.” She nodded down at the phallus. “Can you…take it out?”

“Of course.” He slid the phallus out smoothly and laid it back on the velvet bag. Then, seeing that she needed reassurance, he got on the bed beside her and took her in his arms. “Everything okay?”

“Now it is.” She nuzzled against him, pressing her soft cheek to his chest and inhaling deeply, taking in his scent. “How do you always know just how to calm me down? How to make me feel good?” she murmured.

He wondered if he should tell her. Let her know what had happened just now—that he had reached the Crux when they came together.

“I’m attuned to you now,” he said, trying to keep it simple. “My body is in sync with yours. It knows what you need and strives to give it to you.”

“What does that mean…attuned?” Trin whispered, rubbing her cheek against his chest again. He loved the feel of her in his arms—the way she curled against him so trustingly.

“It means, Mistress, that you’ve broken through my barriers,” he rumbled, looking down at her. “Though it is not the Havoc way, my body is preparing to bond with yours—to tie us together forever.”

“What? But in order to bond with me you’d have to—” Trin tried to push away from him but he wouldn’t let her.

“Take it easy, Trin. Yes, in order to bond with you I’d have to penetrate you and fill you with my seed. But you know I’m not going to do that. I’m just telling you what my body is preparing for. That doesn’t mean it’s going to get what it wants.”

He tried to keep his voice light—to not let her immediate anxiety about the idea of being bound to him hurt him. She doesn’t want to bond with any male, he reminded himself sternly. It’s not just you.

“But…you wouldn’t really want to do that to me, would you? I mean, physically, sure but not cognitively?” she asked, still looking panicked. “I mean, if what the slaver at the Flesh Bazaar said, that would half your lifetime and you don’t want that.”

“That’s not exactly how it works,” he said, frowning. “But no—I don’t want that. Not if you don’t.”

“You know how I feel about it,” Trin said quickly. “I agreed to let you use your…your tongue and fingers. And the phallus. Nothing else.”

“Nothing else,” Thrace echoed. “And that was what I did—I kept strictly to the rules you laid down, Mistress. I would never penetrate you if you were unwilling to be penetrated. I have sworn as much to you before.”

“All right. Well then…”

“I was simply telling you why I know how to comfort you…why I know what your body needs almost before you need it. It’s because my body is attuned to yours—ready to do anything necessary to make you mine.”

“And this just happened? I mean, the way your body…wants mine?” She sounded uncertain but not quite as frightened which was good.

Thrace sighed. “We call it the Crux—the point of no return. It’s been coming on for a while—I knew it but I couldn’t seem to stop it. Sucking your nipples last night and making you come, then holding you in my arms as we slept…all of that contributed. And now, licking you and touching you…tasting your honey right from the source…penetrating you with the shaft… All of that and watching you come made me so fucking hot that I came too. That last was probably the trigger.” He shook his head. “And now I know I’m lost.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning, I’m yours, Mistress. I would do anything for you…and hold nothing back.”

He meant it too—he hoped she could see it in his eyes. There was nothing he wouldn’t do, nothing he wouldn’t give. She had been his mistress in name only before this, but something had changed when she trusted herself to him, when she allowed him to penetrate her with his tongue and taste her honey right from the source. And when he came with her, his fate was sealed and the Crux was reached.

Now there was no longer any pretense about it—she truly was his mistress and would be always, even if they concluded this deal and he never saw her again. He was hers—her slave in spirit and body as well as in name. Truly, it was the worst thing that could happen to a Havoc and yet, he couldn’t bring himself to feel upset about it.

We do not bond, he thought, stroking her hair as he looked into her lovely dark eyes. But oh, Mistress…oh, Trin…if only you would let me I would do it—I would bond you to me, bind us together forever as one…

Trin seemed to understand his meaning because her eyes grew wide and a soft “Oh…” escaped her lips. “Thrace,” she murmured, looking up at him. “Thrace, I—”

“Well, isn’t this a touching scene.”

The new voice in the room made both of them jump. Thrace was up in a heartbeat, looking around for the intruder, ready to defend his female.

“I’m here.” The blue viewscreen flickered, showing the face of Lady Tam-tam looking at them.

“What in the Seven Hells?” Thrace got between the screen and Trin, trying to hide her nakedness.

“Don’t bother yelling at me, slave—these rooms aren’t wired for sound,” their hostess said. “Dear me, no! I like to give my guests some privacy. I just wanted to tell you that I quite enjoyed the show you just put on and invite you to my private viewing room for a, ah…little proposition.”

“Her private viewing room?” Trin looked at him and then frowned at the viewscreen. “Why does she want us there?”

“You can come at once,” Lady Tam-tam said, before Thrace could speculate. “And please keep things quiet—I don’t want everyone knowing about my little viewing hobby.” She giggled like a naughty school girl. “Just follow these directions…” A set of complicated directions that seemed to involve a lot of back passages and hidden staircases flashed up on the screen. “And I’ll see you in a few minutes. Bye!”

The screen went dark and Lady Tam-tam was gone.

* * * * *

“What does she want with us? And was she really watching everything we did just now?” Trin felt sick with embarrassment at the thought. She knew cognitively that they were under surveillance but knowing it and having it rubbed in her face were two different things. For some reason since it wasn’t night time and the viewscreen hadn’t been glowing blue she’d thought they had complete privacy. Apparently not, whispered the little voice in her brain sarcastically.

“I don’t think we have a choice.” Thrace frowned, his face like a thundercloud. He looked at her. “I think we have to go.”

“I think so too,” Trin admitted. “Um…just let me get dressed.”

“I need to change too.” He looked down at the black loincloth which was sticking to him. “Need to get cleaned up.”

Trin bit her lip as she saw the evidence of what he’d said—that he had come at the same time she did and it had somehow tied him to her. I’m attuned to you now, he’d said. You’ve broken through my barriers.

How had she done that? And was it a good thing or a bad thing that it had happened?

Before she could answer her own question, Thrace was getting off the bed and going to the fresher to change into a new pair of black leather slave trousers. Trin huddled on the bed, still thinking.

He had admitted he wanted to bond with her—and had further admitted that in order to form such a bond he would have to penetrate her with his shaft and come inside her. Of course, he had promised not to do that, but still, just the fact that he wanted to made her uneasy.

Is that what’s really making you nervous? asked the snarky little voice in her head. Or is it the fact that the idea of him penetrating you with his shaft doesn’t seem so horrifying or awful as it once did? Admit it, Trin—when he was whispering how he wanted to fill you with himself, it was making you incredibly hot. So hot it made you come with that damn phallus inside you!

She blushed with shame at the memory but not all the blood rushing to her cheeks was due to guilt. She had to confess to herself that some of it was sexual desire—the forbidden image Thrace had put into her head still made her hot, no matter how hard she tried to push it away.

She was still huddled in the center of the sleeping platform in a ball when the big Havoc came back into the room looking clean and refreshed.

“Mistress?” He frowned at her. “Are you all right?”

“I…I’m fine,” Trin lied.

“No, you’re not. What is it? Why aren’t you ready?” He sat beside her on the bed and put a hand on her knee.

“I…” Trin sat up, her nerves tingling from his touch. “I just…”

“Oh, I see the problem.” Her thighs had fallen open when she sat up and Thrace looked between her legs with half-lidded eyes.

“What problem?” Trin looked down at herself and saw to her deep embarrassment that her bare pussy and inner thighs were still wet and slippery with her juices.

“How can you get ready if I haven’t done my duty and cleaned you up as a good slave should?” Thrace rumbled. “Forgive me, Mistress—allow me to make amends.”

“You…you don’t have to. I don’t—”

Before she could finish he was crouched between her legs, lapping her inner thighs with long, slow strokes of his hot, wet tongue.

“Thrace!” she protested. “You don’t have to do that!”

“Of course, I do.” He looked up for a moment, his eyes blazing. “It was remiss of me not to do it earlier. A good slave always cleans his Mistress after giving her pleasure.”

“We don’t have time for this. We have to go,” Trin protested. She tangled her fingers in his thick, blue-black hair, wanting to push him away but somehow she couldn’t seem to do it. His tongue on her skin felt too good…too right.

Thrace put a hand on her trembling belly and stroked her soothingly.

“Lay back, Mistress and let me tend to you,” he murmured. “It will only take a moment and then we’ll get you dressed and ready to go.”

I shouldn’t…And yet somehow, she was.

Uncertainly, Trin allowed herself to relax back against the pillows and watch as he spread her legs wide for the second time and went to work again, cleaning the honey from her thighs with long, slow strokes of his tongue. He cleaned them thoroughly and then lapped her pussy as well, dragging the flat of his tongue over her swollen outer lips gently but firmly, making her squirm and moan.

“Thrace,” she whispered breathlessly. “You really don’t have to…”

“But I want to.” He looked up and, catching her eyes with his, parted her cleft with his thumbs. “Have to clean you everywhere, Mistress,” he murmured and gave her a long, slow lick that started at the entrance of her pussy and ended at the top of her slit.

Trin jumped and moaned as his hot tongue dragged over the tender bump of her clit. She knew she shouldn’t let him do this. Earlier it had been necessary—she’d had to let him lick her in order to loosen her up enough to take the phallus inside her pussy. But she had no such excuse now—no excuse but that she loved the feel of his hot mouth between her thighs.

Goddess, what was happening to her? Surely it was wrong to lie there and let the big Havoc clean her with his tongue as if it was normal and right. And yet, she couldn’t seem to help herself or ask him to stop. She could only lay there and watch as he stroked his tongue over her open pussy time and again, as if he was trying to get every last drop of her honey.

“There,” Thrace murmured at last, sitting back just when she was beginning to throb and ache again with renewed need. “I think you’re clean now, Mistress. Let’s get you dressed and we’ll go see Lady Tam-tam.”

“All…all right,” Trin whispered faintly. “Let’s…do that. Let’s go.”

She allowed Thrace to find another dress for her—this one deep green with white lace—and put it on her. Then, still feeling slightly dazed as well as hot and swollen between her thighs, she and Thrace followed the complicated directions to Lady Tam-tam’s viewing room.

Chapter Twenty-five

“Come in, my dears. Do come in.” Lady Tam-tam ushered them into a small, plush room decorated with many priceless little knickknacks arranged in shelves hung on the deep red walls. It had two overstuffed chairs and a blazepit in one corner where a small fire crackled softly, giving the light a soft, reddish tinge. The room was carpeted in long, white fur that moved in swirling patterns as if in response to some unseen current.

Trin thought it looked like a lady’s private refreshment room—one she could go to in order to get away from the rest of the world and just relax with a hot libation and some fanciful reading material. Well—three fourths of the room looked that way, anyway. In contrast to the rest of the snug little parlor, large viewscreens lined one of the walls. Under them was placed a complicated looking control panel. The sleek technology clashed with the cozy comfort of the rest of the room, making it seem strange and out of place.

“Do take off your shoes please,” Lady Tam-tam said before Trin had barely taken a step. “You have to be gentle with the Pompa fur rug. It’s alive, you know and it doesn’t take harsh treatment well.”

“Alive?” Trin looked down at the soft white fur as she slipped off the ridiculously high heels that went with her dress. When she stepped into it barefoot, she sank in up to her ankles. It was like walking on silk that massaged her feet with every step but she didn’t love the idea of walking on a living organism.

“Oh, yes indeed! And it’s very delicate.” Lady Tam-tam frowned. “In fact, someone must have been walking all over the poor thing with shoes on last night. See this?” She pointed to a spot in front of the control panel where the white fur was matted and trampled as though someone with heavy boots had stood on it. “One of the cleaning slaves no doubt. I’ll have to speak sharply to them later.”

“I see…” Trin frowned but she was looking at the control panel, not the Pompa fur rug. There were several knobs that seemed to have nothing to do with the viewscreens but they were labeled with colors rather than words. She saw blue, green, scarlet, white, yellow, orange, pink…and black. What could it mean?

“I see you’re admiring my viewscreens,” Lady Tam-tam said, mistaking where Trin was looking. “Indeed, they’re most useful. This one corresponds to Dreaming Suite One.” She pointed to the viewscreen on the far right of the viewing wall. “This one is Dreaming Suite Two…” She motioned to the middle screen. “And this is Suite Three. Four and Five are hardly ever used.”

“Wait—that’s our room.” Trin motioned to the middle screen which showed nothing but an empty room.

“Indeed it is,” Lady Tam-tam said tartly. “And I was preparing to ask you to leave it before the little show the two of you put on just now.”

“So…you really were watching us?” Trin felt the familiar burn of embarrassment as the blood rushed to her cheeks.

“Of course I was. I watch all the guests in my Dreaming Suites.” Lady Tam-tam settled herself in a plush chair before the control panel. “Look—this is Lady Needra and her love-slave Yorth last night.” She pushed a button and the image on viewscreen one blurred for a moment.

When it came back into focus, Trin was shocked to see the blonde mistress on her hands and knees in the center of the vast bed with her slave behind her. He was gripping her hips and thrusting—clearly shoving his shaft as deeply into her pussy as he could and Lady Needra was loving every minute of it. She moaned silently and thrust back against him, trying to take him as deep as possible.

“He’s fucking her,” Thrace said flatly. “Thought you people didn’t believe in letting a male do that to a female here.”

“Well we don’t, not officially, anyway.” Lady Tam-tam giggled. “But look, he’s not just fucking her. He’s breeding her. Watch.” She gestured to the screen.

To Trin’s dismay, she saw the muscular slave stop thrusting and press deeply into his mistress. He held rigidly still, his fingers white as he gripped her hips, almost as though he was pulsing inside her.

Coming—oh my Goddess, he’s actually coming inside her! The ultimate blasphemy! The worst shame imaginable! she thought numbly as the slave pulled out, giving a clear view of his cum dripping from his mistress’s pussy.

“Such a chance she’s taking” Lady Tam-tam tittered. “You know she isn’t on any sort of contraception. But of course, that’s what makes her little display so much fun—the risk.”

It was risky indeed—if Needra got pregnant with a male child there was no way to deny that she had made love with a male. Like the Daughters of Zetta Prime, the Yonnites went to contraception centers and chose to have only female children.

Trin was shocked by the blatant display, but somehow the sight didn’t sicken her as it should have. Instead, she suddenly had a mental image of herself and Thrace in the same positions. The forbidden mental picture started a tingling and throbbing between her thighs and at the tips of her breasts. She shut her legs tightly and crossed her arms over her chest, trying to push the disturbing image away.

“There, you see?” Lady Tam-tam said. “Lady Needra always gives a stellar performance—that’s the reason she’s forever welcome here and gets a Dreaming Suite every time she comes.”

“We see,” Thrace rumbled. “But what about us?”

“I’ll show you—let me run back the feed.”

Lady Tam-tam pushed more buttons and the middle viewscreen whizzed into life as the empty room blurred to static. After a moment, their hostess pressed another button and the screen was filled with a new image—Thrace lying on the bed with Trin curled up beside him, naked, her head pillowed on his broad chest.

“Oh no, that’s too far. That’s from last night. A very disappointing performance!” Lady Tam-tam muttered, frowning at Trin. “I don’t believe you did a thing after allowing your slave to touch you and suck your breasts. Oh, besides a few kisses between your thighs that weren’t even very deep.”

“I—” Trin started to say but something stopped her. It was hard to tell in the dark room, but it seemed as if the image had suddenly gotten darker and more hazy. Almost as if some kind of black mist had filled the air over the sleeping platform and settled down on the sleeping forms of herself and Thrace.

“What’s that?” Thrace rumbled, obviously seeing the same thing.

“Dream gas of some kind.” Lady Tam-tam frowned. “But…” She looked at the time signature at the bottom of the screen. “This was after I had gone to bed. So who could have administered it?”

“I know who,” Thrace growled. He was staring at the trampled place on the carpet—the spot where Trin had thought it looked like someone with boots had been standing. She exchanged glances with him.

“Lord X—he knew about my nightmare. He did this!”

“Nonsense—he has no idea where this room is.” Lady Tam-tam waved a bejewled hand dismissively. “Only a select few do, you know. And besides, he’s much too well mannered to do such a thing.”

“I think you’re wrong,” Trin said. “But why would you have a way to slip dream gas into the rooms anyway?”

“To provoke a response of course—mostly sexual,” Lady Tam-tam snapped. “Why do you think these rooms are called ‘Dreaming Suites?’ But I don’t administer the gas lightly. And in your case, I didn’t at all. I was hoping for a real performance—not an artificial one brought on by the gas.”

“Well, someone gassed us,” Trin said accusingly. “And I’m still betting it was Lord X.” She watched the viewscreen. Clearly she had only taken a small breath of the gas before burying her face in Thrace’s side. He, however, had breathed in the black mist deeply. Despite that, it was Trin who started thrashing, her sleeping face filled with agony and fear.

Trin watched, horrified and fascinated. Though there was no sound, she could almost hear her own frightened moans.

“My nightmare!” she exclaimed. “The gas is what caused it—it was awful.”

“Fucking bad one, too,” Thrace growled from behind her. “Had a hell of a time getting you back to sleep. Do you…” He cleared his throat. “Do you remember what it was about now?”

“No…” Trin frowned. Stop it! Let him go! The words echoed in her mind along with a quick flash of someone—someone she knew?—being tied up and hurt. But then the image was gone as quickly as it had come. “No,” she repeated. “I don’t—it’s still a blank. I only know it was bad.”

“Probably better you don’t remember then,” he growled.

“Probably.” She shivered. “I don’t understand though—you can tell I barely got a whiff of the gas while you got a lot of it. But I was the one who had the nightmare. Why was that?”

“Simple—it wasn’t your nightmare,” Lady Tam-tam said. She nodded at Thrace. “It was his. Or else a bad memory turned into a nightmare.”

“But how did I get his nightmare or memory or whatever?” Trin demanded. She nodded at Thrace and noticed that the big Havoc was looking distinctly uncomfortable but he didn’t say anything.

“You’d had the white gas—the Truth gas earlier.” Lady Tam-tam sounded bored, as though this didn’t interest her at all. “And you were sleeping closely connected to him—naked in his arms. The skin-to-skin contact allowed his nightmare or past trauma to jump to you and you became the one who manifested it. However…” She sat up and stared at Trin sharply. “That isn’t what I brought you here to see. This is.”

She pushed some more buttons and once more the images on the screen blurred to static. In a moment they stopped and Trin was faced with the scene of herself lying at the end of the bed while Thrace knelt between her legs and kissed and licked her pussy.

“Goddess of Judgment,” she whispered, feeling as though she might faint. Somehow seeing what they had done together on the screen made the act she’d committed all the more real. She felt faint as she watched the big Havoc thrust two thick fingers deep inside her while he licked and sucked her clit. The sight filled her with shame but even worse, it filled her with desire. She could feel the tips of her breasts tingling and the area between her thighs where he had so lately licked and kissed her was throbbing and swollen with need.

“See? Very nice. Especially for your first time.” Lady Tam-tam turned to her, a small smile playing around her lips. “Oh yes, my dear Lady Trin—I know your true story. I got it all out of lady Malroth right after first meal. I know that you’re really from Zetta Prime and your Havoc is a slave of convenience in order to help you do business on Yonnie Six—not really a love-slave as you claimed.”

“Untrue,” Thrace interrupted in a deep growl. “That may have been the case when my lady first bought me but I am hers now, body and soul. I care for her deeply though, as a true daughter of Zetta Prime, she cannot return my emotions.”

“Is this so?” Lady Tam-tam frowned at Trin.

Trin drew herself up, embarrassment and rage warring within her. Rage won.

“Not that it’s any of your business,” she said icily. “But yes.”

Lady Tam-tam made a motion with one finger. “Go on.”

Trin clenched her hands into fists, trying to hold on to her temper.

“I bought Thrace to act as a prop so that I could make trade agreements with the mistresses of Yonnie Six,” she said. “Then he saved my life and I was going to set him free but he wouldn’t let me. He insisted on staying with me until I had earned back his slave price—fifty thousand credits.” For some reason the price echoed in her head, bothering her. But she didn’t have time to think why.

“Fifty thousand credits?” Lady Tam-tam raised an eyebrow. “My, that’s much too much to pay for a single slave.”

“It is,” Trin confessed. “But the slaver who was selling him had accused me to the security Crangs—because I punched him when he wouldn’t stop using the collar on Thrace. It was either pay his price or wind up on the auction block myself.” She cleared her throat. “Also, he was going to kill Thrace right in front of me. I paid the price to save both of us—I had no choice.”

“So…you paid that ridiculous price, doubtless using up your pitiful savings, and putting yourself in the red,” Lady Tam-tam said. “And now, according to Lady Malroth, you have a bundle of Jaxite crystals you want to unload in order to get into the black again.”

“Something like that,” Trin said coolly. “We don’t all live on a natural deposit of Dream Gas, my lady. I have to make a living somehow. However, as we have clearly failed here, Thrace and I will be happy to leave.” She gave a small, frosty bow and started to withdraw.

“Wait.” Lady Tam-tam frowned at her. “Don’t go, Lady Trin. I have…a proposition for you.”

* * * * *

“What is it?” Thrace stepped forward, putting himself between Trin and their hostess. He didn’t like the greedy gleam in Lady Tam-tam’s eyes, or the fact that she knew all their secrets.

“I wasn’t speaking to you, slave.” Lady Tam-tam frowned. “However, my proposition does concern you so you may listen respectfully.”

“I’m all ears,” Thrace growled. He fell back a pace but stayed close to Trin, making sure she knew he was there if she needed him.

“As I said earlier, I know that you are really from Zetta Prime—that benighted planet where they have no use for males at all,” Lady Tam-tam said, addressing Trin. “And so I assume that what I saw just now in your suite was the first ever time you had allowed a male to taste you and penetrate you sexually.”

“He…he never really penetrated me. Not with his shaft.” Trin’s voice shook and her creamy cheeks were flushed but she kept her chin high, staring down the older female fearlessly.

“I know that,” Lady Tam-tam snapped. “But am I correct in my assumption?”

“Yes,” Trin admitted with obvious reluctance. “Though I don’t see how that’s relevant here.”

“It’s relevant because I love firsts, my dear,” Lady Tam-tam exclaimed. “The first kiss…the first embrace…the first flush of love and trust that allowed you to surrender to him and let him open you with the phallus…Firsts are tremendously exciting.”

“As well as embarrassing,” Trin muttered, frowning.

“You shouldn’t be embarrassed to let yourself fall in love,” Lady Tam-tam said earnestly. “Or to express that love in a physical way. So— am I correct in assuming that you have never been penetrated by a male’s shaft?”

“Of course not!” Trin exclaimed. “That would be blasphemy—a slap in the face of the Goddess of Judgment!”

“Oh please! That silly Goddess of Judgment all you Daughters of Zetta are so fearful of.” Lady Tam-tam made a shooing gesture with one hand, as though Trin’s deeply held beliefs were simply ridiculous.

“There’s a reason we fear her,” Trin said quietly. “She is quick to anger when her laws are broken…and she almost never forgives.”

“Very well then, enough about that,” Lady Tam-tam said. “Am I also correct in assuming you have never penetrated a male with a phallus—such as the ones I gave out for all to wear tonight?”

Trin flushed again. “No. I…I have never done such a thing. Nor do I wish to.”

“But you must, my dear.” Lady Tam-tam’s eyes had taken on that greedy sparkle again. “You must either allow your slave to penetrate you and come deep in your pussy, or you must penetrate him with the heart’s blood phallus and cause him to spill his seed that way.”

Thrace felt sick.

“The Hell she will!” he growled, glaring at the older female. “Why would my mistress agree to either of those options? One is strictly against her beliefs and the other is…”

“Something I swore I would never do.” Trin looked up at him, her dark eyes troubled. “Thrace and I have discussed this already. Despite any…feelings that have grown within us as we played our parts, neither of us wishes to be penetrated by the other—it’s not going to happen.”

“Oh yes it is—if you want to sell those Jaxite crystals of yours and get out of debt,” Lady Tam-tam snapped.

Trin crossed her arms over her chest.

“Some things aren’t for sale, Lady Tam-tam. I don’t know how but I’ll manage even if I can’t sell the crystals.”

“Is that right?” The older female’s eyes flashed fire. “And what if it wasn’t just the crystals at stake? What if it was your pride—your very life and reputation back on Zetta Prime?”

“What do you mean?” Trin’s eyes were wide.

“Didn’t I tell you that I researched your past?” Lady Tam-tam demanded. “And in the course of that, I learned all about your family—your mother to be exact. Lady L’zara of Temple Trees—that is the name of your family estate on Zetta Prime, right?”

“What are you saying?” Thrace demanded. “Are you threatening us?”

“Not you, my dear Havoc,” Lady Tam-tam purred. “Only your mistress. Lady Trin, how would you like it if the recording I just showed of you and your slave somehow found its way to your mother? And to all the priestesses of your home temple? The ones who doubtless trained you from childhood about how very wrong it is to have anything to do with a male—especially sexually?”

Trin’s face went so pale that for a moment Thrace was afraid she might faint.

“You wouldn’t,” she whispered.

“Oh but I would my dear. Unless you comply with my request.”

“You—” Thrace took a step towards her but the small but deadly muzzle of a mini-destroyer suddenly appeared in Lady Tam-tam’s hand.

“Uh-uh, my dear,” she admonished him. “I know how protective you are of your mistress but believe me, I won’t hesitate to use this. And it’s quite powerful enough to blast a hole through the both of you so don’t think that stepping in front of her will save her.”

“I can’t believe this.” Trin’s voice shook. “You’re actually demanding that one of us penetrate the other? That I break either my promise to Thrace or my deeply held beliefs simply for your entertainment?”

“Well, when you put it like that, it sounds rather mean,” Lady Tam-tam said mildly. “But yes, essentially. I want to see your first penetration—I don’t care which way it goes but it must happen.” She shook a finger at Trin sternly. “And don’t think you can fake it—I can see the most vivid detail here. Either you penetrate your slave or allow him to penetrate you. If you do—and you put on a good show about it—I will buy your crystals for triple what they are worth and send you on your way. If you don’t, however, your mother and all the priestesses who taught you growing up will see your secret shame and know the truth—that you are in love with a male.”

“I…I never…” Trin seemed to be at a loss for words and Thrace didn’t blame her. The choice before them was a grim one.

“Mistress,” he said, taking her by the hand. “Come on. Let’s go talk about this. In private.”

“Yes, do go and talk it over.” Lady Tam-tam smiled languidly. “Take your time, my dears. But don’t take too much time. We only have a few more hours before the feast tonight and I want to see results long before then.”

“How can you do this to us?” Trin asked numbly, looking at her. “What kind of a monster demands such things of her guests?”

Lady Tam-tam frowned. “A very generous monster, my dear. I’m prepared to make you a rich woman if you do as I say.”

“Or break my mother’s heart and bring shame to my entire family if I don’t.” Trin’s voice was shaking and her eyes were filled with helpless rage.

“Yes, or that.” Lady Tam-tam shrugged. “Don’t think too harshly of me, Lady Trin. I’m just a lonely old lady who’s in need of entertainment.” Her eyes hardened. “Now go—you have an hour to get started. After that, I’m sending the entire vid of you and your slave to Zetta Prime.”

She made a motion, dismissing them. Trin looked like she wanted to say something else but Thrace stopped her with a shake of his head. Lady Tam-tam had made up her mind and she clearly wasn’t going to change it. She wanted to see a ‘first’ and she was damn well going to see one or she would ruin Trin’s life.

Can’t let her do that. He led his mistress out of the secret viewing room and back the way they had come. Can’t let her shame Trin in front of all her friends and family. Can’t let her ruin Trin’s professional and personal reputation—it’ll keep her from ever trading again either on Yonnie Six or her home planet.

He had to stop Lady Tam-tam from acting. But he knew couldn’t ask Trin to give up her long-held beliefs and let him penetrate her. Thrace could tell she honestly believed that to accept his shaft and seed within her would damn her soul to the Seven Hells—or whatever Hell the priestesses of the Goddess of Judgment had cooked up. So the penetration had to happen but it wasn’t going to be him penetrating her.

It would have to be the other way around. No matter how painful that might be…

“Say the words—say them, damn you!”

The thrust and push of a thick shaft inside him, invading him, taking him against his will…the rush of shame as his nether entrance was pierced and penetrated…the feeling of his pride and his body being torn at the same time…

No—stop! Don’t think of it! Don’t remember the past—it only makes things worse!

Thrace clenched his hands into fists, trying to force the painful memories back. If only he hadn’t had that dream the night before! It had brought everything he had tried so hard to forget back in vivid, painful detail.

Well, at least Trin didn’t remember the contents of the dream, even though she had shared it. Thrace watched her from the corner of his eye as they made their way back to their suite. If she had remembered the nightmare, this would be so much harder. Not that it wouldn’t be hard enough already…

But as hard as it was, Thrace was determined to do it. He had reached the Crux—he was devoted to Trin—owned by her body and soul. But more even than that, he loved her. Loved her as he had never loved a female in his life—and had never expected to love one.

The Havoc do not bond.

But at least he could do this for her—though he couldn’t tie her to him for life, he could save her reputation and keep her from shame. And he was determined to do it.

Anything for you, Mistress, he thought, looking at her lovely, troubled profile. Anything—even this.

Even this.

Chapter Twenty-six

“We can’t do this,” Trin said, as soon as they got back into their room. “We can’t. I can’t.”

“Yes, you can.” Thrace went to the sleeping platform and got the double-ended heart’s blood phallus. “You have to.”

The implications of what he was saying suddenly sank in and Trin looked at him, wide-eyed.

“Thrace…you don’t mean…?”

“Yes.” He looked at her sternly. “I know you can’t be penetrated yourself, Mistress—I wouldn’t ask it of you. But you can…” He took a deep breath, as though trying to calm himself. “You can penetrate me. It must be done.”

“No!” Trin exclaimed, backing up a step. “I don’t want to…to do that to you! I know how you feel about it—you don’t want it!”

“No, I don’t,” Thrace said softly. “But I do want what’s best for you and this is it. So come on, Mistress—let me help you on with your equipment.”

He knelt between her legs but Trin pushed him away.

“You can’t be serious! You told me this would make you feel less of a male—subjugated…dominated. I know you well enough to know that you’re proud—as proud as I am. You don’t want to submit to this, Thrace.”

“I’d rather submit to you than see your professional reputation ruined! Than see you never be able to trade again, either here on Yonnie Six or on your home planet.” He sighed and raked a hand through his hair. “I’d rather do this than let you be shamed in front of your mother.”

Trin crossed her arms over her chest and narrowed her eyes.

“What do you know or care about my mother?”

“I know that you care about her and you care what she thinks of you. Look, Trin…” He rose to his feet, the heart’s blood phallus still held loosely in one hand. “I have no parents left—my Sire was killed when I was only sixteen cycles old. But you do—you have your mother. You shouldn’t be shamed in front of the one whose good opinion matters to you most.”

What he was saying made sense but somehow Trin wasn’t listening to it. Sixteen cycles old. His father was killed when he was only sixteen cycles old… Why did that detail bother her so much? For an instant she seemed to see an older male Havoc—one that looked remarkably like Thrace—being shot with a blaster. A huge, bloody hole opened in his chest…he fell to his knees…somewhere a familiar voice cried out in shock and pain…

Then the image was gone. But it left Trin shaken. So shaken she couldn’t stand and had to go sit on the edge of the sleeping platform. To her dismay, Thrace followed her.

“Please, Thrace,” she said, putting her head in her hands. “I can’t…can’t do that. So don’t ask me any more.”

“What else are you going to do?” he asked harshly. “How else are we going to get out of this with your reputation intact? How else are you going to pay off your ship? There is no other option—I know without asking that letting me penetrate you is out of the question.”

“I…” Trin bit her lip, the blood rushing to her face. “You know…how I feel about that.”

“Yeah, I know.” His deep voice was bitter. “I know better than you do—you’re of two minds about it.”

“What do you mean?” She looked at him, deeply troubled.

“I mean your body wants it desperately—your scent tells me so.” He inhaled deeply, his eyes going half-lidded with desire again. “You’re hot for it, baby. But your beliefs…they won’t let you give in to your physical needs.” He sighed. “And I would never ask you to abandon those beliefs. Not for me or anyone.”

“What about you?” Trin asked desperately. “What about your beliefs?”

He shrugged, his broad shoulders rolling with the motion.

“Don’t have any particular beliefs about letting someone fuck me,” he said bluntly. “I don’t like the idea but that’s not the same as thinking I’ll be cursed to the Seven Hells or wherever it is that damn judgmental goddess of yours sends you if you let a male’s shaft inside you.”

“But…I don’t even know how to go about it,” Trin whispered. She could feel her resolve weakening which she knew was wrong. But Thrace was right—what else could they do?

You could let him penetrate you, whispered a little voice in her head. No one would ever have to know…

I would know, Trin told the little voice fiercely. And the Goddess would know. I would never be able to take it back…never be able to atone for it. Letting him do that to me—no matter how much I want it—would stain my soul forever. I would never be free of that sin…never be forgiven for it. No matter how close I may have come to it or how much I care for Thrace, that is one line I cannot, I must not cross.

“Mistress…” Thrace was on his knees before her again and somehow he was raising her skirts and spreading her legs. “Let me help you put on the phallus. We’ll go step by step…you can do this.” He took a deep breath. “And I can too. It’s the only way.”

“I don’t know…” Trin began but he was already licking her, dragging his hot tongue in long, slow strokes over her heated pussy, making her moan with need. Before she knew it, he was fitting the heart’s blood phallus to her entrance and entering her slowly and gently, seating the thick shaft firmly inside her pussy.

“That’s right, Mistress,” he growled softly as the head of the phallus kissed the back of her tight channel. “That’s right, take it all in…so that you can take me.”

“Ah! Goddess!” Trin moaned, bucking her hips up to meet the thrust of the phallus. If it was so wrong to allow anything inside her here, in this most secret spot, why did it feel so Goddess-damned good? She had no answers. And before she could think of any, Thrace was pressing a small, cool cylinder into the palm of her hand. Trin looked down at it uncertainly. “What—?”

“To prepare me.” Thrace’s voice was a low growl and his silver-blue eyes were troubled but he seemed absolutely sure about this all the same. “Unless you’d rather I did it myself?”

“Oh…oh, no. No, of course not.” Trin suddenly understood. With trembling hands, she unscrewed the lid of the small container and squeezed something cool and slippery out into her fingers.

Thrace was already kneeling at the side of the bed but now he removed the black silk loincloth which had covered the front and back of his crotchless black leather trousers. Folding his arms on the top of the bed, he spread his legs, giving her access to his tight, muscular ass. Then he looked back at Trin.

“Go on—do it.”

“All…all right.”

Awkwardly she knelt beside him, excruciatingly aware of the way the heart’s blood phallus felt moving inside her as she did so. The other end of the phallus—the golden rod carved with elaborate, flowing script and characters, stuck out in front of her strangely. Was she really going to use this on Thrace? Was she really going to take him this way?

What else could she do?

Reaching between his spread thighs, she found the small, tight opening. He was clenched as tight as a fist and for a moment Trin wished she had the same ability he did to loosen and relax tense flesh. But she had not been born Havoc with such innate skills—the slippery substance and her own slender fingers would have to do.

Slowly, her hands trembling, she tried to massage the lube into his entrance. Thrace said nothing. He only buried his face in his muscular arms and took deep, gulping breaths as Trin penetrated him first with one fingertip…and then two. How widely would he need to be stretched to take the golden end of the heart’s blood phallus? And would she really be able to help prepare him? She had been working on him for a good while now and he still seemed as tight as he’d been to begin with.

“I’m sorry,” she said at last. “I…I guess I need more of this stuff.” She reached for the small tube again but Thrace surprised her by turning and grasping her wrist.

“Stop.” His voice was hoarse, a deep, jagged growl.

“Oh. Of course I’ll stop. We don’t have to—”

“No, I mean stop trying to prepare me. This…” he gestured to himself with the other hand. “This is as prepared as I’m going to get. I can’t loosen up for you. I can’t relax. All I can do is take it. So go on, Mistress—give it to me.”

“Thrace…” Trin cupped his cheek with her free hand. “Goddess, you’re shaking.”

He shook his head. “It’s nothing. Just nerves. Do it. Please just do it and get it over with, Master—I mean, Mistress.”

Trin frowned at his slip.

“Thrace, what’s going on? Is there something you’re not telling me?”

“Nothing.” But his eyes slid to the side and wouldn’t meet hers when he said it.

Trin regarded him uneasily. The Havoc was so big—so massive and powerful. He was so much taller than her—his shoulders were fully twice as broad as hers and he probably weighed three times as much as she did, all of it solid muscle. And yet here he was, humbling himself before her, giving himself freely. But somehow she sensed it was more than just his pride he was going to be losing if she went through with this.

“Thrace,” she said uncertainly. “I don’t want to do this if…if it’s going to hurt you.”

“That doesn’t matter. Nothing matters now but doing it and getting it over with.”

“This is an intimacy,” Trin objected. “One that neither one of us would have chosen, maybe, but still an intimacy. I won’t let it become a rape.”

Thrace flinched, his eyes narrowing.

“It won’t be rape. I’m willing, I tell you.”

“Your body tells another story,” Trin objected. “A much different one Look how tense you are—how tight. You remind me of my stallion, Swift when he’s scented something that frightens him.”

“Not your fucking pet,” he growled. “Not some stupid animal that doesn’t know better. That’s not why I’m doing this.”

She frowned. “Why are you doing it then? Is it because of what you told me earlier? That your body is attuned to me? That I’ve somehow…broken your barriers? I don’t want to do this to you because you feel you have to let me—because you’re under some kind of…of chemical or hormonal spell or—”

“It’s nothing like that,” he interrupted. “It’s true I’ve reached the Crux—the point of no return when it comes to you. But that’s not why I’m doing this. I’m doing this because I lo—” He broke off abruptly, shaking his head. “Never mind. You wouldn’t understand.”

“I might.” Trin’s heart was beating hard. “Try me, Thrace. Tell me…what you were going to say.”

But he only shook his head. “Look, all you have to know is that I’m devoted to you. Didn’t I tell you I’d hold nothing back?” He lifted his chin. “A Havoc always keeps his word. This is me, baby, holding nothing back.”

“Thrace…”

“Listen to me.” He caught both her hands in his and faced her, looking earnestly into her eyes. “Mistress,” he said gravely, “I submit to you and offer my neck for your collar. I will serve you until I die or until you set me free.”

Trin bit her lip. Those words…the words… Why did they echo in her head like the tolling of a great bell? Why did they make her feel so uneasy?

Say it! Say the words, boy! Say them, damn you!

But Thrace wasn’t done yet. Still looking into her eyes, he continued softly.

“I will belong to you body and soul. I will protect you with my life, shield you from harm in times of danger, and pleasure you in times of peace. To the last drop of my blood, I…am…yours.”

Say the words! Say them!

Suddenly his face flickered before her eyes and Trin saw something else—someone else. Another Thrace—a younger Thrace—looked out at her. He was bound by his wrists and ankles, chained up beyond hope of escape. And there was a male—an older male with graying hair and a paunch standing behind him…hurting him…forcing him…

“No!” Trin sat back with a gasp as everything suddenly came rushing back. The dream…the nightmare…only it had been no nightmare. It had been a memory—reality!

“Trin? Mistress?” Thrace was looking at her with concern.

“That dream I had last night.” Trin knew her voice sounded accusing but she couldn’t help it. “It was about you. You and what happened to you in the past. Your father…murdered. And you were bought by some horrible old male…with graying hair and purple robes. He beat you and tied you up and…and…” But she couldn’t continue. She could only shake her head and stare at him. “It was real, wasn’t it?” she whispered. “All of it was real. You really were a slave.”

“Yes, it was real.” Thrace sat back scowling. “My Sire and I were taken when I was only sixteen cycles old—caught unaware by slavers. We were taken to the Flesh Bazaar. My Sire was killed but no one cared—doubtless none of the Masters or Mistresses there thought they could handle a full grown Havoc. A half grown one, though…now that was a different story.”

He sighed and rubbed a hand over his face, pinching the bridge of his nose as though trying to drive back a headache.

“Thrace—” she began but he wasn’t done yet.

“The Master who bought me was the same one who murdered my Sire,” he went on in a low, growling voice. “He paid fifty thousand credits for me—just as you did, Mistress.” The word held a bitterness that Trin had never heard him use before. “He kept me intact for a good long while, hoping to get me to give my oath—to pledge my love and loyalty.”

“The words,” Trin whispered. “He wanted you to say the words—the words you said to me.”

“I wouldn’t though.” Thrace sounded grim. “I never gave those words to anyone…until I took your collar and gave them to you.” He looked at Trin but she found she couldn’t hold his burning gaze and had to look away.

“Did he…”

“Eventually he got tired of waiting, of course,” Thrace continued. “He took me—used me as hard as he could. It was a punishment, you see. For failing to give him what he wanted…for refusing to…” He choked. “Refusing to love him.”

“Thrace…”

“He used me almost every night after that,” the big Havoc continued, speaking relentlessly as though he was determined to get the whole sordid story out. Every muscle in his big body was bunched with tension as he spoke. “He didn’t always do me the courtesy of using lube, either.” He nodded at the small cylinder Trin had left lying on the side of the bed. “Those times hurt…but it was worse when he…when he took his time and did use it. When he spent time on trying to prepare me, as you were doing.”

“Why?” Trin couldn’t help asking although she didn’t really want to know. But somehow she knew that Thrace had to tell it. “Why was that worse?”

“Because those times were when he did more than just fuck my body…he fucked with my head.” Thrace clenched his jaw and a muscle in his temple jumped and twitched. “He…made me come for him, you see. It’s an involuntary response—you touch a male in the right way, rub against the right spot inside and it’s going to happen. I know that now. But for years I wondered what the hell was wrong with me…why I couldn’t stop myself from coming when he…when he took me.”

“Thrace…” Trin felt like her heart was breaking. Knowing this…finding it out was too much. Just too, too much. “How…how did you get away?” she whispered.

A slow, grim smile spread over his face.

“Three cycles he had me. And for two of those he used me. I was desperate to escape…little more than an animal after a while. And I finally got my growth.”

Trin remembered the young Thrace she’d seen in the dream—the way he was tall but not nearly as muscular or huge as he was now.

“I could see it coming on—I could feel my strength growing,” he went on in a low growl. “But the Master was blind to it—he only saw what he wanted to see. A slave he liked to fuck. So one night when he’d sent the guards from the room and one of my manacles was a little loose, I finally freed one hand. I reached for him and dragged him to me—that raping son-of-a-bitch.” He made an unconscious motion with one hand, clenching it tightly into a fist.

“And then?” Trin whispered, her heart beating in her throat.

“Then I gouged out his eyes and ripped out his throat. With my teeth.”

The look on his face was so fierce…so predatory, that she couldn’t help drawing back with an involuntary shudder.

“Goddess, Thrace…”

“His blood tasted so fucking sweet.” Those silver-blue eyes were blank now, filled with a fierce, animalistic light. “I killed him and left his corpse chained where he always chained me—left him for the guards to find. Well, the ones I didn’t kill on the way out.” He shrugged. “After that I went back home and swore I’d never be a slave again. And I wasn’t until Solar and I got drugged in that fucking bar on Padge.” He looked at her intently. “Before you bought me I swore to myself I’d kill my new master or mistress and get away before it could happen again. Before anyone could use me…that way again.”

Trin could barely speak.

“Then why…how could you… how could you even think of letting me do this?” She gestured at herself—at the way she had nearly taken and penetrated him at his request.

“I told you.” The fierce light in his eyes was for her now and he gripped her by her upper arms, pulling her close. “You own me—body and soul. I’m yours, Mistress. And if this is what you need to do, then by all the Gods, we’ll do it. So why don’t you just fucking get on with it?”

“No!” Trin shoved away from him, tearing herself from his grasp. The phallus within her which had felt strange but intensely sexual before, now seemed abhorrent—an instrument of torture. She reached down and pulled it out, gasping as the unfamiliar length slid from her core. Throwing it to the side she pushed herself to her feet and staggered backwards, trying to get away from the huge Havoc still kneeling by the side of the bed with an awful light burning in his eyes.

“Trin…” His voice was a low, warning growl.

“No, stay away from me!” She shook her head. “I won’t do this to you. I won’t. I don’t care if it costs me my career and my reputation and my relationship with my mother—I don’t care.”

“Trin!” He started to rise to his feet, a strange, intense look in his eyes. “I shouldn’t have told you…not like that. I’m sorry…I just—”

“No! I don’t want to hear any more. I never want to hear any more.” Turning, she tore open the door and ran from him, ran from the room and the past that stood between them like an insurmountable wall. Ran from his pain and hurt and her own fear and vulnerability.

But no matter how fast she ran, the nightmare followed her—the vision she’d seen the night before—the memory of his suffering and the fact that she had added to it. No matter how fast she ran, she couldn’t outrun the hurt in his eyes or the pain in his voice when she left him, standing there with his hands outstretched and empty.

* * * * *

Fuck—what’s wrong with me? Why in the Seven Hells did I tell her all that? Why the fuck did I tell her I killed the old Master? And why did I tell her how he used me every night? She hates me now—thinks I’m dirt—trash. Not just trash—fucking dangerous trash. I told her I ripped his throat out with my teeth! Why did I tell her that? Wouldn’t it be enough to just say I killed him without giving details? Fuck!

Thrace paced the floor, running both hands through his hair, trying to understand what had happened, why he had snapped.

Should have played off the dream—told her it was just a nightmare. Never should have admitted it was a true memory, never should have said anything about the past at all.

For years it had isolated him. He’d never told another living soul about his past abuse—not even his first mate and best friend, Solar. Now he understood why. Seeing that horrified look on Trin’s face—hearing the pity and fear in her voice as she told him she didn’t want to hear any more—that was reason enough to keep the past to himself. Thrace wished desperately that he’d done exactly that.

But somehow when she started using the lube on him, he just couldn’t keep it inside anymore. His subservient position, kneeling by the bed with his legs spread while she fingered him from behind had been too much to take. It reminded him too strongly of the past—of the way the Master had sometimes prepared him before taking him.

Should have kept it to myself, he thought again. But it was too late for that. Too late to do anything but try to find her and repair the damage he’d done. With a low oath, he stood up and began looking for his trousers—the ones that actually covered him. They were going to have to leave this place and he’d be damned if he would wear those fucking crotchless slave trousers one more minute. He was going to get dressed, gather the bare necessities, and find Trin. In the meantime, maybe she would cool off a little and be ready to talk by the time he got to her.

He hoped.

Chapter Twenty-seven

Trin ran until the breath was tearing in her throat and she felt like her heart would burst. The marble halls of the vast mansion echoed with her footsteps and the stone floor was cold against her bare feet but she didn’t care—she had to get away.

At last she found the exit out into the back grounds of the estate. She stumbled wearily out into the weak sunshine, grateful beyond words to be out of that house, away from the awful things she’d heard and seen.

Poor Thrace…oh Goddess, so awful…so horrible…

She shouldn’t have run. Trin sank to the ground, the dry grass crunching under her feet, holding the stitch in her side. Shouldn’t have run.

But the look on his face had been so fierce and frightening and the things he’d told her had been so awful…

How much more awful do you think they were for him? How hard was it for him to tell you? But you didn’t stay and try to comfort him—you ran. Ran away and left him feeling like garbage.

I’m sorry…so sorry… Trin buried her face in her hands and a hoarse sob broke from her throat. The worst thing was that she’d almost done it to him again—had almost forced him to relive that old trauma, that horrible past. Oh Goddess, if his words hadn’t brought back the dream…if he hadn’t admitted it was true and not just a nightmare…I can’t believe I was actually going to do that to him…that I was going to hurt him like that!

She felt sick—sick and shaky with rage and sorrow. She wanted to find Thrace’s old master and kill him…until she remembered what he’d said about the way he had killed the old bastard himself.

I ripped out his throat. With my teeth. His blood tasted so fucking sweet…

Goddess! Trin shivered and let out another sob. She hated getting emotional—hated letting her feelings show. And yet this time she couldn’t keep them inside. Thrace meant something to her—in the short time she’d known him he had somehow gotten closer to her than to any other person she’d ever known. Despite the fact that he was male and a relationship between them was both wrong and forbidden she cared for him. And the thought of him being hurt like that…

“My, my—you look a mess, my dear if you don’t mind me saying so. And you must be thirsty with all that running. Here.” Someone handed her a cool, frosty cup. Her eyes still filled with tears, Trin gasped it blindly and took a deep drink. The liquid inside was faintly sweet and icy—so cold it made her lips go numb.

“Thank you,” she said in a shaky voice, handing it back.

“Not at all, not at all. Always glad to be of use to a lady in need.”

A pair of tall black boots was suddenly in front of her eyes and a big, masculine hand was reaching down to take her under the arm. Black boots…that should bother me…why? For a moment she couldn’t think why. Then she looked up and saw the boots and the hand with the drink belonged to Lord X.

“You!” She tried to scoot backwards but his grip on her was too firm.

“Of course it’s me. Let me just help you up.” He smiled gallantly as he hoisted her to her feet. When he got a look at her face, he shook his head and made a tsking sound. “You’ve been crying! My dear, whatever for?”

“I can’t…I don’t want to talk about it.” Trin swiped at her eyes and did her best to stand up straight.

“But you should talk about it—to a friend who cares.” His handsome face twisted into a cold smile that didn’t quite find his eyes. “Lady Tam-tam is most displeased with you, you know. Apparently you didn’t fulfil your end of some bargain she made with you.”

“That was no bargain—it was blackmail!” Trin spat before she thought better of it.

“Blackmail? Really?” His eyebrows raised high over those strange black eyes with the deep red glints in them. “Whatever can that mean?”

“None of your business.” Trin rubbed the back of her hand over her numb and tingling lips. She didn’t like showing weakness in front of a strange male. Especially one she suspected of drugging her.

“Sorry to hear that.” He raised the frosty cup to her once more. “Maybe you’d like another drink?

Trin eyed the cup and her stomach did a slow flip.

Oh my god…drugging me! He gassed Thrace and me last night and now, why do my lips feel so numb? Almost like…

“Ah—the look of realization.” Lord X smiled broadly though the expression still didn’t reach his eyes. There was something horribly familiar about that grin, Trin thought sickly—for a moment she almost seemed to see metal teeth gleaming in the weak sunlight. Then the illusion passed and it was only Lord X standing there, handsome and inscrutable with cold black eyes, perfect white teeth, and a cruel little smile playing around his mouth.

“You…what have you done to me?” she asked thickly. She was beginning to feel dizzy and hot, as though the dress she was wearing was made from unbearably thick fur instead of thin lace and silk.

“Nothing irreversible, I assure you.” Lord X smiled and tightened his grip on her arm. He began to drag her around the side of the huge house. “I’ll leave that for someone else.”

“For who? Where are you taking me? Let me go!” She wanted to fight him but she was so weak suddenly, so dizzy and sick and so horribly hot. She felt like she might pass out from the terrible heat at any moment but somehow she didn’t.

“Why, I’m going to take you back to the landing field and put you on a shuttle. You’re going straight back to your ship, The Alacrity.” He grinned at her. “Home is the best place to be when you feel sick, don’t you agree?”

“Thrace…” Trin could barely get the name out through her numb lips but she tried anyway. “What about…Thrace?”

“Oh, don’t worry my lovely—I’m sure the big Havoc will be along very shortly. He cares about you too deeply to do anything else but follow you…to his doom.”

He gave a low, awful laugh and then the world spun around Trin and everything went black.

* * * * *

“What do you mean she’s gone?” Thrace demanded of the slave in purple and orange livery who was minding the control area of the landing field. “Where the fuck did she go?”

“Well…back to her ship.” The slave shrugged uneasily. “She didn’t seem like she was feeling well—couldn’t even walk on her own. Lord X had to carry her.”

“Lord X?” Thrace’s entire body was flooded with angry adrenaline. “You let that son-of-a-bitch take her off in a ship somewhere? What the fuck is wrong with you?” He grabbed the slave by his natty orange and purple lapels. “You’d better pray to all the Gods that ever were that you got a flight plan filed for him so I can follow them. Or so help me I’ll rip you limb from limb and it will not be a fast operation!”

“Calm down!” The slave was pale and shaking. “Please! He didn’t take her anywhere—he didn’t even leave with her! He just put her into one of Lady Tam-tam’s spare shuttles and sent her back up to her own ship—I swear!”

Thrace felt a short lived burst of relief.

“Didn’t go with her, you say? Why not? What’s his game?”

“He didn’t say anything about any game,” the slave protested, his voice still shaking. “Only that the lady didn’t feel well so he was sending her back to her ship.”

“Fine.” Thrace hefted the small case he’d packed with the few essentials he thought it necessary to bring. “Then bring my shuttle around now. I’m going after her and if I don’t find her safe aboard The Alacrity, I’m coming back down here and you’ll have hell to pay!”

Nodding and bowing, the slave attendant ran as fast as he could to get the small life pod shuttle they had come in. Thrace waited impatiently, wondering what the hell he would find when he got back to The Alacrity and praying that Trin was all right. He didn’t believe that Lord X was the type to simply help a female in need out of the goodness of his own heart. No—there was something more going on here, something bad.

Thrace just hoped he wasn’t too late to stop it.

Chapter Twenty-eight

“Well, well, well…so nice to see you again, my dear Havoc.”

The face that popped up when his viewscreen finally established contact with The Alacrity was horribly familiar.

“You,” Thrace breathed, staring at the gleaming metal teeth and the one, mad eye dancing in its hollow socket.

“It’s Two, actually not ‘you’ but I know what you mean.” Two giggled. “Of course, you only knew me as B’Rugh’s second in command. But I am so much more—to you as well as others that you love and will someday come to care for. You might say that our destinies are entwined. Isn’t that a romantic idea?”

“Stop fucking around and tell me what you’re doing aboard The Alacrity. And where’s Trin? I swear by all the Gods if you’ve hurt her—”

“Oh no, my dear Havoc—she has not been wounded…yet. I am saving that honor for you.”

“What do you mean? What are you talking about?” Thrace demanded. But Two only shook his head.

“You’ll find out soon enough. Your pod should dock with The Alacrity very shortly. But remember one thing, my dear Havoc…” He held up one long, skeletal finger. “I am in charge here now. If you try to come in, blasters blazing, you’ll only get your darling Trin and all the rest of her crew killed. Well…” He made a face. “The ones that are still alive, anyway.”

“You fucker, what have you done? You—” Thrace burst out but the viewscreen went black and no amount of calling would raise an answer from The Alacrity. He could do nothing but wait.

It only took another half hour for the pod to dock but Thrace swore it was the longest half hour of his life. The moment he felt the solid bump of metal kissing metal, he sprang to the door, ready to confront Two and save the female he loved.

But it was Sidna, not Two who met him at the door of the shuttle. The medic looked haggard, lines of fear and sorrow drawn on her face and shadows under her gray eyes.

“Havoc,” she greeted him flatly.

“Sidna.” He nodded at her briefly. “Where’s Trin? Is she all right?”

“No, but there’s nothing you can do to help her. That male, Two—I think he’s the one that Trin met in The Demon’s Eye…”

“Yes, that’s where we met him,” Thrace said impatiently. “How in the Seven Hells did he get aboard?”

“My fault.” She passed a trembling hand over her eyes. “There was a distress call and he put up a false image. Trin left me in charge while the two of you were on Yonnie Six and I let him in. He’s already killed Terra and Jola is wounded… Oh Goddess of Judgment, what have I done?” Her eyes filled with tears but Thrace had no time for comfort or consolation.

“Listen to me.” He grabbed her by the shoulders and shook once, briefly. “What’s done is done. However he got aboard, he’s here now. What I need to know is, where is Trin? Has he hurt her?”

Sidna sniffed and swiped at her eyes.

“Two has her on the bridge. I don’t think he’s harmed her physically but there’s definitely something wrong with her. She keeps complaining of being hot…says she can’t breathe and she’s so thirsty but Two won’t let any of us give her a drink.”

“The bastard.” Thrace started off down the metal hallway in long strides but Sidna hurried after him.

“Be careful! He said if you try to take her away or shoot him, he’ll kill her!”

“I’ll be careful,” Thrace snarled. “And that son-of-a-bitch had better be careful too. If he’s harmed Trin in any way I’ll fucking kill him!”

As he spoke the last words, he rounded the corner that led into the control area of the ship. Sure enough, there was Two, standing with one arm wrapped around Trin’s slim waist. With his other hand, he held a deadly looking snub-nosed dissipater to her temple.

“Two,” Thrace spat.

“In the flesh.” Two nodded genially.

He looked much the same as he had when Thrace first met him in The Demon’s Eye except that his skin was considerably paler and the blackish brown spots on the exposed part of his brain seemed to have grown, like some kind of rot spreading in the gray, spongy tissue.

“You’ll kill me, will you?” he drawled, grinning widely to show all his metal teeth. “Yes, I expect you will at that. But not yet, my dear Havoc. Not…quite…yet.” He nodded down at the female in his arms. “First you might want to have a look at your mistress.”

His heart in his throat, Thrace looked more closely at the slender figure still draped in the deep green dress with its white lace panels. Trin didn’t look well at all. In fact, the dissipater Two was holding on her barely seemed necessary. She was sagging in his grip, her cheeks flushed and her lips parted as she tried to breathe.

“Trin? Trin!” Thrace felt a shock of fear and desperation race through him.

“Th-thrace?” Her eyelids parted a crack and she looked at him with dull eyes.

“Trin? Baby—are you okay?”

“No.” She shook her head weakly. “So hot and so…so thirsty.”

Thrace glared at Two. “What’s wrong with her? What did you do to her?”

“Why, I have no idea what’s wrong with her.” Two shrugged his boney shoulders eloquently. “She was like this when she got here.”

“Trin listen to me—what happened?” Thrace leaned closer to her but Two drew back, pressing the muzzle of the dissipater hard against her temple.

“Ah-ah-ah, my dear Havoc. Keep your distance for now.”

“But what happened? What’s wrong with her?”

“He…he gave me a drink.” Trin’s eyes were heavy-lidded and she seemed to be struggling to get the words out. “Back on…on Yonnie Six. After I ran…ran away from you.”

“Two gave you a drink?”

“No…” She shook her head sluggishly. “Lord…Lord X. He gave me a drink. Made my lips numb. Started feeling…funny. And now I’m so…so hot. So thirsty.”

Thrace was beginning to get a bad feeling about this. A very bad feeling.

“It made you hot, you say? What did he give you?”

“Don’t know.” She shook her head weakly.

“Well, I do,” Two said brightly. He turned to Trin. “But that doesn’t matter. What matters is how thirsty poor little Trin is now.”

The long boney hand wrapped around Trin’s waist snaked down out of sight and returned holding a flask. Two popped off the lid and waved it enticingly under her nose.

“Wh..what is that?” Trin’s eyes opened a little wider. “So thirsty…something to drink?”

“Something delicious,” Two promised with a sneering smile. “Something that will quench your thirst forever.”

“No!” Suddenly it all clicked into place for Thrace. “No, don’t Trin! Don’t drink it—it’s poison!”

He lunged forward but she was already grasping the flask Two held to her lips and gulping thirstily.

Shoving the dissipater Two held to one side, Thrace tore the flask away from Trin’s lips. But it was too late—he could see the blood-red ribbon of wine sliding from the corner of her mouth. Drugged wine, and he knew what it was drugged with.

“Ah-ah—step back for just a moment, if you please.” Two had regained his grip on the dissipater and was holding it on Thrace now. “Just give it a moment to take effect.” He looked down at Trin. “Better now, my dear?”

“I…think so.” Trin straightened up, her eyes looking clearer than they had before. But her cheeks were still flushed and her breathing was rapid and shallow. “What happened?”

“Why, you took the third drink, my dear.” Two smiled at her nastily. “The third drink of passion berry wine. Don’t you remember? The first drink makes you cold…the second makes you hot…and the third drink…”

“Makes you dead. Oh my Goddess!” Trin put a hand to her mouth. “But, that’s not possible! I was sure the first drink was completely out of my system.”

“It would have been…with normal passion berries.” Two grinned. “But you see, these are a special strain I’ve been developing in my spare time. You know, between killing people for B’Rugh, tracking down the two of you, hiring the most deadly assassin in this galaxy or any other for another little side project I have… He shrugged modestly. “It’s just a hobby, really.”

“You bastard, you’ve killed her.” Thrace felt like he was going to die himself. He couldn’t bear to lose Trin—not now that he was aligned with her, not when he finally knew his own mind and heart and knew that he loved her.

This is why the Havoc don’t bond, he thought dully, watching her flushed cheeks and rapid breathing. Because tying yourself so closely to a female rips your fucking heart out. But it was too late—he was tied to her. Tied so closely that if she died, he knew he would want to follow her into death.

“No, I haven’t killed her.” Two smiled, showing his metal teeth again. “She can still be saved, as you well know.”

“Not by you,” Thrace snarled, feeling sick. “Get your fucking hands off her, now!”

“Gladly.” Two removed his hands from Trin’s waist and shoulder and gave her a little push towards Thrace. “Now that she’s had the third drink, she’s all yours, Havoc.”

“Thrace?” Trin looked up at him as he pulled her against his side.

“It’s all right, baby,” he murmured, stroking her shoulders. “Everything is going to be all right.” Which was a complete lie and he knew it. He glared at Two. “Why did you do this?” he demanded. “Why target us in this way? Is it revenge for what happened in The Demon’s Eye?”

“Well, that is the nominal reason, yes. I promised B’Rugh that I would make you both suffer—which is why I arranged for Trin to see your past using the nightmare vapor. I wanted her to know exactly what kind of male you were—wanted her to know what had been done to you.”

“So you’re the one who pumped the gas into our room,” Thrace growled

“No, no—I said I arranged for it to happen. I had hoped that when faced with Lady Tam-tam’s request, Trin would…ah violate you in the same way you had been hurt in the past. Such an event would surely have triggered a most violent and interesting reaction.” He sighed deeply. “Unfortunately she refused to do so and I was forced to resort to plan B—the passion berry juice.”

“You bastard,” Thrace said thickly.

“Indeed.” Two’s eyes gleamed. “I promised B’Rugh you would suffer and suffer you shall. Now it will be you who is forced to do the violating, my dear Havoc. You can still save her—if you take her in a way she has sworn never to be taken.”

“You know I can’t do that,” Thrace said angrily.

“You’ll have to. You can save her body and damn her soul…or you can save her soul and watch her die in your arms.” Two spread his hands. “The choice is yours.”

“Why?” Trin whispered and Thrace could feel her trembling against his side. “I still don’t understand why you’re doing this to us.”

“You don’t need to know.” Two smiled coldly. “Suffice it to say my reasons have to do with a foretelling of the future. The future not just of you two, but of a whole race. But we can talk later.” He looked at Thrace. “For now, hadn’t you better tend to your mistress? She’s looking a little worse for the wear.”

Suddenly Thrace felt Trin sag against him. He looked down to see that her eyes were half-lidded and she was panting.

“Thrace, something is wrong. I feel…so strange,” she whispered. “What’s wrong with me? Is it the passion berries?”

“Probably.” He lifted her gently into his arms and cradled her against him. Then he glared at Two. “This isn’t over.”

“No, of course not.” Two looked positively gleeful. “And it won’t be until you either cure her in a way that is forbidden to her…or watch her die. Either way, I’ll wait.” He folded his arms across his skinny chest and grinned. “Just take your time.”

* * * * *

Trin was feeling decidedly strange as Thrace carried her back to her quarters, the long green dress dragging limply down his arm. At least it no longer felt like it was made of stifling fur and her skin wasn’t burning up anymore. But something else was wrong with her—something that went deeper than heat or cold.

The passion berries, she thought numbly. I’ve had three drinks. I’m going to die.

“You’re not going to die.” Thrace muttered, as if answering her morbid thoughts. He carried her into her quarters and locked the door. Then he set her on her feet. “I won’t let you die, Trin—I swear it.”

“How…how are you going to stop it?”

He tilted her chin so he could gaze into her eyes. His face was deadly serious and his voice was soft.

“You know there’s only one way to stop it.”

“Only one way,” she echoed, feeling dizzy and weak. “You…you have to penetrate me. Fuck me.”

“I have to make love to you.” He stroked her cheek. “We have to make love together until I fill you with my seed. It’s the only way.”

“We can’t…I can’t.” But even as she spoke, she felt the familiar heat building in her body. The tingling in the tips of her breasts, the hot, swollen feeling between her legs that meant she wanted his touch. Why did she want him so much? Was it just the passion berries…or something else?

“It’s the only way,” Thrace repeated. He looked at her intently. “I know you weren’t raised to do this—I know you think it’s wrong. But your body wants mine as mine wants yours.” He buried his face in her neck and inhaled deeply before pulling back to look at her. “I can smell the need on you.” His voice was a low, soft growl. “All I’m asking, Trin, is that you give in to that need—just once. Just long enough to save your life. I…” His voice grew hoarse. “I can’t stand here and watch you die. I care too much for you to do that.”

“We shouldn’t,” Trin whispered but she was already in his arms. “I should be willing to die before I allow a male to penetrate my body. I should be willing to lay down my life rather than commit such sacrilege.”

“It’s not a sacrilege—it’s a sacrament,” he insisted earnestly. “I don’t believe in the Goddess but in this I do believe. I won’t hurt you, Trin—I’ll do everything in my power to make sure it’s a pleasurable experience for you. I’ll make you come again and again but please…let me save your life—don’t make me watch you die. Please.” His voice broke on the last word and Trin felt herself breaking inside too.

“What about you?” she whispered pleadingly. “Won’t this cut your life span in half? I can’t do that to you—I can’t ask you to sacrifice your life for me.”

“That’s only if what we do causes a bond,” Thrace said. “And even then—”

“That’s right—the bond!” Trin drew back from him, her heart in her mouth. “We…I can’t risk that. Can’t risk tying us together for life!”

“We have to risk it—it’s the only way,” Thrace said grimly. “Besides—I know what you think of me—know you don’t want to be tied to me. So I’ll do my best not to bond you to me.”

“I…I never meant…I just thought…” Trin couldn’t finish her thought.

She stepped back and crossed her arms over her chest, shivering. The wine she had drunk was having a strange effect on her body—first she was hot, then she was cold and always she could feel her desire growing, her clit throbbing like a second heartbeat between her legs and her nipples tingling. The rapidly shifting sensations made it hard to think but she told herself she had to—had to reason this out before all reason left her.

I can’t do this…I shouldn’t do this. But why? It wasn’t that she feared to lose her status as one of the Unpenetrated—that had already happened. Once she would have felt that submitting herself to a male’s shaft would make her less of a woman—but she no longer really felt that way anymore. Not after getting to know Thrace as a person. If those were the only obstacles in the way, she would have gladly given him permission to save her life. But there was more—the deep seated belief, instilled in childhood, that doing this—that allowing a male to penetrated her—was a slap in the face of the goddess she worshipped. Blasphemy…sacrilege…the worst kind of depravity.

Trin remembered kneeling at the feet of the statue of the Goddess of Judgment on the day she had been dedicated at the temple. She had been only twelve cycles old and just that week the priestesses had been teaching her and the other girls in her class about the filthy, immoral practices of other planets. Planets where males and females lived and mingled together in sexual union. There had been pictures too—drawings of huge, brutish males taking females from behind, forcing their thick shafts into the females’ bodies while the objects of their lust writhed in agony and shame.

“This is what will become of you if you allow a male to penetrate you,” one of the greater sisters—Sister Honor—had lectured in a low, serious voice. “A male will use you like trash—defile and abuse you. And afterwards the Goddess can never accept you into her Holy Halls. You will be damned to the Hell of Defiled Women when you die. Is that what you want? Is it?”

No! Trin shivered at the old but still vivid memory. No, that’s not what I want at all.

Of course, if someone had asked her a few months ago if she still believed all the teachings of her childhood, she would have scoffed and said she was a grown woman, capable of making up her own mind. But now, faced with a decision that would alter her life radically and completely, she was no longer so quick to scoff. The Hell of Defiled Women might be just a ridiculous fairy tale made up by vindictive priestesses to keep naughty children in line but what if it wasn’t? What if it was all true and the Goddess was watching right now and…

No, stop it! she told herself sternly. Stop thinking like that. Yes, you’ve been taught to believe this is wrong—the wrongest thing you can do. But are you so certain about that belief that you’re willing to give your life for it? Are you really ready to die rather than let a male penetrate you?

The answer again, was no. No, she didn’t want to die here, with so much life left to live. No, she didn’t want to give up everything for her childhood beliefs.

But neither did she want to dishonor herself completely. Part of her—a large part—wanted to be back in Thrace’s arms. Wanted to feel his white-hot kisses on her mouth, taste his lips and then open herself to him. To let him stroke and caress every inch of her body before he finally thrust home within her.

However, Trin knew that was exactly what she must not do. There had to be a way to do this—to have sex with the huge Havoc and save her life—without making it a worse blasphemy than it already was. There must be a way…

Suddenly, she knew how.

“All right,” she whispered at last, looking up at Thrace, who was waiting anxiously for her answer. “But…I don’t want this to be a pleasurable experience.”

“What?” He frowned, clearly not sure he’d heard her correctly.

“You heard me.” Trin raised her chin. “I said, I don’t want it to be pleasurable. It shouldn’t be. This isn’t right and I’m not doing it for pleasure or because I want you…want you in me. It’s a necessity. It’s only to save my life.” She took a deep breath. “So don’t make it nice and sweet and safe for me, Thrace. Don’t try to make me come. Just…just shove it in and do it.”

His face hardened.

“Are you asking me to rape you? Because I won’t fucking do that, Trin.”

“It’s not rape—I’m willing.” She threw his own words back at him and watched him flinch. “Just not…” She crossed her arms over her breasts which felt swollen and hot with need. “Just not willing to make this anything else but what it is—a necessary evil.”

“Is your guilt really that great?” His voice was a hoarse whisper. “So great you can’t let the only time we share this together be any good? Any good at all?”

“I just can’t. Can’t let myself enjoy it.” Trin looked at him pleadingly. “Try to understand, Thrace—doing this is bad enough. Allowing myself to take pleasure in it…that would be beyond wrong.”

“How can it be wrong to show you how I feel about you?” His deep voice was almost pleading now. “To worship your body with my own…to give you as much pleasure as I can when I take you? Please Trin, can’t you at least let me do that?”

For a moment Trin wanted to melt at his soft, heartfelt words. But she knew she couldn’t let herself bend on this—couldn’t give so much as an inch. It wasn’t just her body at stake but her very soul—and everything she had believed in since childhood. There could be no compromising here.

“No,” she said, trying to keep a steady voice. “No, I’m sorry but I can’t.”

Forcing herself to be hard and cold, she walked stiffly to the bed. There she stripped off the green Yonnie Six gown, tearing the white lace panels in the process and letting it fall in a heap on the floor. She kicked it carelessly aside—it wasn’t like she would ever need it again. Hooking her thumbs in the tiny string panties that went with the gown, she pushed them down her hips. Then she turned to Thrace and spread her arms, showing herself to him. Offering herself to him.

“Here I am,” she whispered in a voice that only trembled a little. “Come and do it. Before I change my mind.”

He came to her slowly, his face like a thundercloud. Trin’s heart thudded in her chest but she lifted her chin and met his eyes. If they were going to do this, it would be on her terms and her terms alone. She just wished her pussy would stop throbbing and her nipples would stop tingling. She told herself it was just the passion berry wine working on her but the closer he got, the stronger the urge to reach for him became. Trin could smell his warm, spicy scent—what he’d called his bonding scent—surrounding her. Goddess, how could she want him so much when she knew it was so wrong?

No, stop it—stay strong! she ordered herself. She got on the bed, naked on her knees with her hands on her thighs. Thrace knelt opposite her in the same position.

“All right,” he growled. “If that’s the way you want it, we’ll get right to it.”

He reached between her legs and cupped her pussy.

“What are you doing?” She started to back away but he shook his head.

“Un-uh, baby—hold still. You want it over and done with? Fine, we can do it like that. But first I have to see if you’re ready for me. I won’t hurt you just to ease your guilt. If we’re going to do this, you have to be wet enough to take me.”

“Fine.” Trin gritted her teeth and held still while he spread her pussy lips and stroked her inner folds, testing her wetness. Despite Thrace’s angry tone, his big hand was infinitely gentle as he explored her. She tried to stifle her moans as his long fingers stroked slowly around her throbbing clit, caressing the little bundle of nerves so tenderly she felt like she might scream.

“Satisfied?” she asked at last, wishing her voice didn’t come out so high and breathy. Goddess, he was driving her crazy! The way he was touching her felt good—much too good. I shouldn’t be enjoying this. Shouldn’t want it at all—any of it. But how could she help wanting him when he touched her like this?

“Almost. Just need to check if you’re wet enough inside. Can you let me do that baby?” His voice was a soft growl that sent shivers down her spine as much as the sparks of pleasure his gentle, insistent touch was sending through her body. “Can you let me penetrate you with my fingers one more time before I fill you with my cock?”

“I…I guess so,” Trin whispered, trying not to let the hot, forbidden words affect her.

“Good.” Thrace looked into her eyes as he slid two long, thick fingers into the depths of her cunt.

“Ahh!” Unable to help herself, she gripped his bicep to keep her balance as he thrust deep to penetrate her to the core. She could feel his fingertips caressing the end of her channel and she knew that soon his shaft would be there. It felt so good Trin could hardly stand it but she forced herself to hold still and not work herself against the invading fingers as they fucked slowly in and out of her.

I’m not enjoying this, she told herself sternly. I’m not, I’m not, I’m not! But if she wasn’t enjoying it, why was her pussy so hot and wet for him already? Why did her body react so strongly to his gentle, teasing touch? It’s the passion berries—just the passion berries, she tried to tell herself but she only half believed it.

At last, Thrace withdrew his fingers. Still keeping his eyes locked with hers, he sucked them into his mouth, cleaning away all her juices. The sensuous gesture made her shiver with desire and Trin wanted to melt in a puddle at his feet—to open herself completely and let him lick and suck and pleasure her until she couldn’t think anymore—until she could only feel.

But that was wrong. She shouldn’t be enjoying this. Suddenly the images she’d seen in the temple as a girl rose into her mind again—the females on their hands and knees, being taken from behind in the most brutal and animalistic way possible. That was what she deserved for doing this—pain and humiliation. That was what she needed.

“I hope you’re satisfied now,” she said, trying to keep her tone curt and clipped. “Because I’m ready to get this over with.” Turning her back to him, she crouched on the bed on her hands and knees and defiantly spread her thighs, offering him free access to her naked, unprotected pussy.

Then she waited, her whole body as tight as a wire—waited for him to take her. To shove the length of his long, thick shaft inside her and fill her with his seed.

Nothing happened.

Finally, Trin turned her head and looked at him.

“Well?” Her voice came out too high again and she had to clear her throat and give it another try. “Well? What are you waiting for?”

“You asked if I’m satisfied with your wetness.” Thrace frowned at her. “Well, I’m not.”

“You’re not? But I…you…your fingers…” She broke off abruptly, biting her lip, thinking of how his long fingers had glistened with her juices. How could he say she wasn’t wet enough after seeing that? But Thrace was shaking his head.

“You’re not ready yet. Just because you’re wet enough to take my fingers doesn’t mean you’re wet enough to take my shaft. It’s considerably thicker, as you know.” He stroked the long, thick ridge of flesh that was clearly visible under the tight black leather trousers he wore. “Don’t want to hurt you.”

“Maybe I shouldn’t be ready,” Trin said in a low voice. “Maybe…maybe it should hurt.”

Thrace frowned. “I told you, I won’t hurt you just to salvage your pride or ease you guilt. If we’re doing this, we’re going to do it right.”

“Fine,” Trin said, lifting her chin. “And how do you propose we do it ‘right?’”

“Just have to get you a little more ready. Don’t worry, baby—I can take care of it.” His eyes were half-lidded as he leaned down to place a hot kiss on the place where her upper thigh met her buttock.

“What are you—?” Trin started to get up and turn around but his heavy hand on her back stopped her.

“Don’t move. I said I can handle it.”

Suddenly he was behind her on his hands and knees, his long arms wrapped around her thighs to split her wide. Trin gasped as she felt his hot breath on her bare ass.

She started to close her legs but Thrace nipped her tender flesh sharply. Trin cried out and stopped struggling to shut her thighs.

“Ow! Why did you do that?”

“You have to hold still. Surrender to me, baby—surrender completely. Remember—this isn’t your fault and it isn’t your choice. You don’t even want it—I’m only doing it to save your life.”

“I know.” It was what she had been telling herself but all the same Trin bit her lip, wondering why his words made her feel so sad…so small. The next minute he nipped her again, drawing her out of her reverie. “Please!” she gasped. “What are you going to do?”

“Going to taste you, baby.” His voice was a low, hungry growl. “Going to lick you open—lick your sweet little cunt until you’re completely ready to take me.”

“But I don’t think…I shouldn’t let you,” Trin gasped. “I told you, I don’t want it to feel good. I don’t want to come! I don’t….ohhhh.” Her protests ended in a moan as she felt his hot tongue connect with her outer pussy lips and he took a long, slow, leisurely taste between her thighs.

“It’s not up to you. Not anymore,” Thrace growled, looking up briefly. “So just relax, baby. Relax and let me lick you open.”

Trin moaned again and writhed helplessly as she felt his hot tongue invade her inner folds. She couldn’t help noticing that he wasn’t calling her “Mistress” anymore. Clearly he was in charge in this scenario and he wanted her to know it. Though she had ordered him to just get this over with, he was refusing to rush their encounter. And though she explicitly told him she didn’t want to feel pleasure, he was doing everything in his power to give it to her anyway. But what could she do to stop him?

Nothing, she thought, moaning again as he bathed her pussy with his tongue. He’s too big—too strong. There’s nothing I can do but submit and try to get through this. Just like the girls in the pictures they showed us at the temple. But those girls had been terrified and unwilling. Though her situation was a little frightening, Trin couldn’t honestly say she was being hurt in any way. Thrace was simply holding her very firmly as he opened her with his tongue.

She happened to turn her head and caught a glimpse of herself in the old fashioned mirror hanging on the wall of her cabin. Goddess, was that really her? That naked girl on her hands and knees on the bed, her legs spread and pinned open by the big Havoc’s powerful arms as he pressed his face between her thighs? Was she really that girl pressing back to get more of his tongue inside her, to feel him lick deep, invading her core and then pulling back to bathe her clit gently but firmly with the tip of his tongue?

It can’t be, she thought half hysterically. That can’t be me! I would never let him…never back to meet him that way…never moan and beg and fist my fingers in the coverlet as he fucked me with his tongue.

And yet here she was, doing exactly those things as she felt Thrace work on her. She tried to tell herself she was helpless—that he had her pinned and she was unable to move, unable to do anything but spread her thighs wider for his invading tongue and revel in the hot sparks of pleasure it sent through her entire body as he licked and sucked and tasted her so fiercely. But she only half believed it.

Trin moaned and pressed back against him again as she felt him thrust his tongue deep inside her pussy. His stiff stubble scratched against her inner thighs, causing sweet, sharp little darts of pleasure-pain to shoot through her. And she could feel another, deeper pleasure building inside her…one she wanted desperately to deny but couldn’t.

Goddess, if he keeps on like this he’s going to make me come, she thought wildly, trying in vain to hold back the desire she felt overwhelming her. But I can’t come—I can’t take pleasure in this. It’s wrong…so wrong…

Wrong or not, his hot tongue lapping and sucking her pussy, tracing her folds and lashing her clit one moment, then invading her entrance to fuck her as deeply as he could the next was getting to be too much. Trin felt the need growing inside her and knew she wasn’t going to be able to hold back much longer. She was going to come and there was nothing she could do about it.

“Please!” she gasped, as she felt herself tilting over the edge. “Please, I can’t…I don’t…don’t want to come!”

“Too fucking bad.” Thrace’s voice was nothing but a low, animalistic growl and then he pushed forward again and redoubled his efforts, licking and sucking and tasting her until Trin couldn’t stand it anymore.

“Oh…Oh, Goddess!” she cried as she felt him grip her thighs and press as deeply as he could inside her with his tongue. The sensation was too much and suddenly she was coming—coming so hard she saw stars exploding before her eyes.

“Ahhh!” The orgasm crashed into her, making her stiffen as her clit throbbed hard against his tongue. Her whole body felt unbearably tight as sparks of unwanted pleasure coursed through her body like wildfire. But after the sharp peak, a wave of weakness overtook her. She slumped, her head hanging low, panting for breath and if Thrace hadn’t been holding her up, Trin was certain she would have fallen over. As it was, he had to hold her in place until she regained her strength.

“How was that, baby?” he growled softly, stroking her back with one big, warm hand as he curled the other arm around her waist to support her. “How did it feel?”

“You…you made me come.” Trin’s voice sounded weak and too soft in her own ears.

“Damn right I did. It was the only way to get you ready.”

“And…am I ready now? Ready enough for you?” Despite the need to get this over with, she could hear the trepidation in her own voice. Goddess was she really going to do this? Was she really going to spread her thighs for his shaft and allow a male to penetrate her?

The answer came back at once—what choice did she have? Even now, she could feel the passion berry wine burning through her veins, demanding that she give in to the inevitable, that she allow the big Havoc to quench the fire in her blood in the only way he could. To deny the need would lead only to a horribly painful death and Trin didn’t want to die—especially not in agony.

I’m not brave enough, she thought grimly. Not brave enough to let death overtake me even if it would be the right thing to do.

“Well, am I ready?” she asked again when Thrace didn’t reply.

“You’re ready and so am I—ready as I can be, anyway.” He stroked her bare ass gently with one big hand. “Sure this is how you want to do it though? Face to face is better for controlling penetration…and I’d like to look into your eyes while I take you. While we take each other…”

For a moment Trin was tempted. She wanted to see the emotion in those blazing, silver-blue eyes as he entered her, wanted to watch the pleasure and need on his face as he filled her completely, sheathing his shaft to the hilt in her tight, virgin pussy…

No—you can’t let yourself enjoy this! she told herself sternly. You can’t get any more pleasure than you already have—it’s wrong. It’s all wrong!

“This…this is the way I want it,” she said firmly, turning away from him and spreading her thighs a little wider. “It’s…the only way I want it.”

“Fine. Don’t want to look at me while I fuck you—is that it? Don’t want to know that it’s me filling you up, a former slave who was defiled over and over again defiling you…”

“I never said that,” Trin protested, whipping her head around to look at him, wide-eyed. “Thrace—”

“You didn’t have to say it.” He shoved her thighs even wider apart and got between them, raising himself on his knees to fit the head of his shaft against her bare pussy.

Trin shivered as she felt the broad head of his cock slide over her swollen folds and find her entrance. Oh Goddess, here it comes! And I’ve made him angry with me—he’s not going to take it easy…this is going to hurt!

Good, whispered the vindictive little voice in her head. It should hurt. Betraying your beliefs shouldn’t feel good…it should be painful.

She tried to brace herself, fisting her hands in the bedspread and biting her lip hard. Here it comes…here it comes…

But when it happened, it didn’t hurt at all.

“Easy, baby…” Thrace’s big hands caressed her back and hips as he nudged gently into her, allowing only the thick head of his cock to breach her entrance at first. “You’re trembling,” he murmured. “You know you don’t have to be afraid of me. We’re going to take this slow…going to ease you into it. You’ll see.”

“I…I…” Trin didn’t know what to say. Part of her wanted to shout that she didn’t want to take it slow. That she needed it to hurt, or at least not to feel so damn good. But the only thing that came out of her mouth was a low moan as another thick inch of his cock eased tenderly inside her.

“Slowly,” Thrace murmured, still stroking her hips. “So slowly, baby…” She expected him to stop going slow—to thrust the rest of his long shaft into her at any time. But rather than thrusting forward, he pulled her back against him, using her lips for leverage to draw her onto him.

Trin gave a low gasp as she felt herself gliding closer to him, moving as smoothly as silk and taking his thick shaft effortlessly into her body.

“Ahhh,” she moaned softly as he pulled her closer, impaling her gently but firmly on his long cock. “Ahhh, Goddess…oh, Thrace…”

“Gently, baby,” he whispered in her ear. “Take it in nice and slow and easy, just let yourself open up and take it all…take me deep inside you.”

Trin felt her body doing exactly that. Her inner walls stretched wide to accommodate him but it wasn’t a painful stretch at all. Instead, she felt only the deep, delicious pleasure of letting him fill her at last.

“Gonna bottom out inside you any minute, baby,” he murmured in her ear, pulling her back against him and shifting them on the bed. “Gonna fill your sweet pussy completely with my cock. Is that all right?”

“I…I guess so.” Trin could barely talk. “Oh!” she moaned as she felt the broad head of his cock come to rest at the end of her channel. “Oh, Thrace.”

“That’s right—all the way in you now. All the way inside your sweet, wet pussy,” Thrace growled in her ear. “Look for yourself and see.”

Trin’s eyes had closed involuntarily in pleasure but now she opened them. Looking down she realized that he had raised her from the hands and knees position she had insisted on. Instead, he was resting on his knees and she was sitting in his lap—in much the same position they had been in while sitting in the swinging love chairs at their first feast at Dreaming Hills.

Only this time he’s inside me—really inside me! Just like Needra let her slave thrust inside her! Trin looked down between her spread legs at the place his thick shaft was piercing her and a rush of shame and desire so strong she could barely breathe seemed to overtake her.

“Goddess, Thrace…” she whispered brokenly.

“Look at it—look at us in the mirror,” he commanded, growling softly in her ear. “Watch me fill you, baby. Watch me fuck you.”

Trin’s eyes flew to the mirror on her wall and she felt as though she was melting inside. Who was that girl with the creamy brown skin and the long black hair? The girl seated on the huge Havoc’s lap with his thick shaft piercing her to the core? Her breasts were heaving as she panted for breath, her nipples tight and berry dark with need. Her eyes were half-lidded with pleasure she couldn’t deny and her pussy was filled completely with her male’s thick shaft.

“Fucking gorgeous,” Thrace murmured in her ear and Trin watched, mesmerized as his big hands roved over her body, cupping her breasts, twisting her nipples until she moaned. Then his fingers slid lower to the place where they were joined.

“Thrace,” she began but he was already talking again as he touched her.

“I love the contrast of my skin against yours,” he whispered roughly in her ear. “Love the sight of my lighter shaft entering the sweet, dark depths of your pussy. Watch.”

His long fingers spread her wide, opening her cunt, showing the place where he filled her. Then with a long, slow movement, he withdrew until only the head of his cock was still inside her.

Trin moaned breathlessly, entranced by the sight of his shaft all slippery with her juices. It was a sight that was at once obscene and beautiful and she felt she couldn’t have looked away even if watching what they were doing together had made her go blind.

“Thrace, please,” she whispered again. “I should…we shouldn’t be doing it this way. It shouldn’t feel this way…this good.”

“Can’t help it baby—I want to make you feel good. Need to make you feel good. Like this…see?”

As she watched, he stuck two fingers in his mouth to get them nice and wet, Reaching between her legs, he bracketed her throbbing clit with them. As he slid his shaft slowly back into her pussy, the two fingers began to slide up and down, caressing the sides of her sensitive little pearl until she felt like every nerve in her body was on fire with need.

“Ahh!” she gasped as he pierced her to the core again, all the time stroking her clit. “Oh Goddess, please…”

“Does it feel good, baby?” Thrace growled in her ear. “Feel good to let me fuck you?”

“It…it does,” Trin gasped, her eyes still locked on the mirror, watching the erotic show they were putting on together. “It does but it should…it shouldn’t.”

“It has to. Look, I didn’t want to tell you this but you need to know—you have to come to be cured,” he said.

“I…I don’t understand,” Trin gasped. “Come to be cured? What does that mean?”

“Means that in order to counteract the passion berry wine, I need to pump my seed as deeply into your pussy as possible. If you come while I’m filling you, the contractions of your inner walls will draw my seed deep into your womb—which is where it needs to be in order for this to work.”

“Deep in my…but what about forming a bond? And what if I get…I mean, I’m not on any kind of contraception,” Trin protested.

“Can’t be helped,” Thrace growled. “We’ll have to worry about the consequences later. Right now, we need to concentrate on saving your life. Which means you need to work with me—not against me.”

Reluctantly, Trin saw the truth of his words. As wrong as it felt, this would all be for nothing if he didn’t manage to heal her of the passion berry wine’s toxic effects.

“All right,” she whispered. “What…what do I have to do?”

“Squeeze me,” Thrace told her. “Use your inner muscles to clench tight around my shaft. That should help you pull my seed even deeper when I come in you. And work yourself on me—ride my cock.”

“How…”

“There’s a rhythm. Watch.” He began to roll his hips, pulling almost all the way out of her and thrusting back in as he stroked her clit. “Feel that?” he murmured in her ear. “Do you feel the rhythm of our lovemaking?”

“I think so…” Experimentally, Trin raised herself as he pulled out and lowered herself when he thrust back in. The result was that the head of his cock kissed the mouth of her womb harder than expected, making them both groan with the deep penetration.

“That’s it—you’ve got it. Keep it up,” Thrace murmured, pulling out again. “And don’t forget to squeeze—milk me with your inner cunt, baby. Help me come as deep inside your sweet, wet pussy as I can.”

“All…all right,” Trin whispered breathlessly. Goddess this is wrong, so wrong, whispered the little voice in her head. But she was no longer paying any attention to it. She told herself she couldn’t afford to pay any attention. She had to give herself to Thrace completely—had to let herself go and fuck him back if she wanted to survive. And above all else, she did want to survive—otherwise she would have lay down and died instead of accepting his shaft in her pussy.

Biting her lower lip with effort, she concentrated on working herself up and down on his shaft, meeting and matching his rhythm as she clenched and relaxed her inner muscles, trying her best to milk the seed from his cock into her pussy.

“That’s right, baby,” Thrace murmured in her ear. He was still stroking her clit with one hand and with the other, he was pinching and twisting her swollen nipples. “Gods, look at how sexy you are, taking all of my cock so deep in your sweet little cunt. Watch in the mirror as we fuck each other, watch your pussy take my shaft to the hilt…so fucking hot.”

Trin moaned helplessly, watching the two of them fuck in the mirror. The girl with long, dark hair was rolling her hips in time with the male’s thrusts, taking him as deeply as she could—her open pussy accepting his bare shaft easily, almost greedily as though she couldn’t wait to feel him coming inside her, filling her with his thick cum. Her breasts were thrust out, her nipples tight and dark with need and she was panting as she worked herself on his cock, worked hard for his pleasure and her own…

“Goddess,” she whispered. “Oh, Thrace…”

“Ride my cock,” he growled in her ear, stroking her swollen clit even faster. “Ride me and help me come in you, baby.”

The erotic and forbidden sight in the mirror and his hot wores almost as much as his thick shaft filling her finally drove Trin over the edge. She felt her pleasure gathering once more and this time she didn’t try to hold it back.

“Thrace,” she wailed, feeling herself beginning to clench helplessly around him. “Thrace, oh please…I think I’m…I’m going to…”

“That’s right baby,” he growled in her ear, picking up the pace of his thrusting. “That’s right—come for me. Come for me so I can fill you with my seed.”

Trin was helpless to disobey. With a low gasp, she felt her orgasm overtaking her, felt the hot wave of pleasure washing over her as her nipples tightened and her clit throbbed.

With a low groan, Thrace allowed her orgasm to trigger his own. Gripping her hip with one hand, he pulled her down against him and thrust up hard at the same time, pressing the head of his cock to the mouth of her womb, getting as deeply into her pussy as he possibly could.

Trin cried out as she felt a hot, wet rush bathing her core. She heard herself moaning as spurt after spurt of his seed jetted deep inside her. Oh Goddess, this was so wrong—the final defilement! Yet there was nothing she could do but take it, nothing she could do but spread her legs wider and try to take him deeper, try to let his cum fill her as much as possible to save her life.

And then Thrace wrapped both long, muscular arms around her waist and pulled her even closer.

“I love you, Trin,” he whispered deep inside her head. “Gods help me, I love you so damn much…”

Chapter Twenty-nine

Trin stiffened against him, not sure what to say. Then she realized that Thrace’s deep, growling voice had been coming from inside her head.

What the hell? she thought uncertainly. That can’t be right, can it? How could I hear his voice from inside my head? That’s impossible, right?

“Not if we’re bonded,” the big Havoc murmured in her head. “And though I don’t have much knowledge of this—since I swore I would never bond myself to a female—I believe that is what this means.”

“Oh my Goddess, you heard what I was thinking? And I can hear what you’re thinking?” Then what he had told her began to sink in. “And that means we’re bonded?” She stared at him in the mirror they were still facing.

“I’m sorry,” Thrace said aloud. He rubbed a hand over his face. “I never meant for this to happen. I only wanted to heal you from the effects of the passion berry wine. But feeling as I do for you…”

“Your feelings? What about my feelings? Did you ever consider that?” Trin demanded. “What does this bond mean anyway? Is it something we can break or—?”

“Already you want to break our bond?” He looked at her with a mixture of grief and anger on his strong features.

“I’m just trying to understand what it means,” Trin protested. “Please, Thrace—you know I have feelings for you. I just didn’t expect…” Looking down she realized they were still entwined with his still-hard shaft buried to the hilt in her body. “Oh, my Goddess…I can’t…can’t talk like this.”

She started to get up but she couldn’t. She was stuck to him, with his thick shaft refusing to slide out of her pussy.

“Thrace? What’s going on? What’s wrong with us? Why can’t I get off you?” Panic was beginning to take over, clamping cold, clammy fingers around her throat.

“Relax,” he murmured soothingly or it would have been soothing if she wasn’t hearing him inside her head. “I understand this happens sometimes if a Havoc breaks his vow and decides to bond with a female. It’s only temporary—this is simply my body trying to tie you to me as closely as possible by continuing to fill you with my seed.”

“Your what doing what?” Trin squeaked. “And what do you mean you decided to bond with me? I thought you said it was involuntary!”

He sighed. “It was. When I said I had decided I meant my body decided for me. Remember I told you that you had broken down all my barriers? That you had eradicated my determination not to bond with a female?”

“Stop making excuses and stop talking inside my head!” Trin made another unsuccessful attempt to get off of him but she was still stuck to him like glue. Was he really still pumping her full of his seed? That reminded her again that she wasn’t on any kind of contraception. Why, she might be getting pregnant this very minute! And what would she do if the child she conceived was male?

On Zetta Prime any female wishing to have a child went to the Conception Center and chose what kind of sperm she wanted—in doing so she was always assured of getting a female child. If Trin became pregnant with a male, there would be no way to hide what she had done. No way to deny that the child she was carrying had been conceived through intercourse with a male instead of being artificially implanted into her womb. She would be a disgrace to her family…her mother—what would her mother think of her? She would think such a child was an abomination…

“I can hear everything you’re thinking you know,” Thrace growled softly in her ear. “I’m sorry the idea of carrying my child upsets you so much but could you please try not to think of our son as an abomination?”

“I’m sorry—I’m just thinking of what my mother would say!” Trin was beginning to feel hysterical. “I mean, if she saw me like this and knew what we’ve been doing—”

“We were saving your life, that’s what we were doing,” he shot back. “You agreed that was the most important thing, didn’t you? To keep you from dying?”

“Yes, but I didn’t know having you save my life involved being permanently stuck to you—both literally and figuratively!” Trin tried to get off him again and failed. “Oh my Goddess, when will I be able get off you?”

“Not until my body finishes with yours,” he growled. “I’m sorry—this isn’t a conscious decision on my part. If you’d just hold still and stop wiggling we might be able to separate.”

“Separate physically, anyway.” Trin was beginning to get really upset. “But what about this bond? What does it mean? Will I always hear you inside my head? Will you always hear me? Will I never have any mental privacy again? How does this work?”

“I don’t know exactly how it works.” Thrace was beginning to sound frustrated. “I told you—Havoc don’t bond so it’s not like I have a lot to go on. You know, among my people what we’ve done would be as much a disgrace to me as it is to you but you don’t hear me thinking about how we might be creating some kind of ‘abomination’ if you get pregnant with my son.”

“Stop talking about me being pregnant!” Trin exclaimed.

“Why, because it means you’ll have to face the fact that you let a male penetrate you and fuck you?” he demanded, sounding really angry now. “Because you’ll have to sooner or later. You’ll have to admit—”

“My most abject apologies my dear Havoc but I’m afraid there is a personal call from Zetta Prime for your lovely paramour,” Two’s voice interrupted him, coming from the viewscreen. “I hope you don’t mind—I put it through a moment ago for you but there were some difficulties with the connection—I think the caller could hear you but you were unable to hear her.”

“Her? Her, who? Who’s calling? Who heard us?” Panic was clutching Trin’s throat again. A caller from Zetta Prime? That could only be—

“I’m fairly certain I have it right now, so here she is,” Two continued, not answering her question. “Have fun catching up!”

Without further ado, the viewscreen flickered and a familiar image appeared—a woman with pure silver hair and pale skin. She was looking at them with large, dark eyes exactly like Trin’s own.

Trin stared at the viewscreen with a sinking heart—it was her mother.

Chapter Thirty

“Mother!” Realizing she was still naked in Thrace’s lap, Trin looked frantically for something—anything—to cover up with. Thrace helped by handing her a large, fluffy yew-down pillow. She grabbed it and held it lengthwise against her naked body. “Mother,” she said again and then didn’t know what else to say.

“Lonarra?” Her mother stared at her blankly for a moment. “Lonarra Ellenna Trin, what is going on here? What are you doing?”

Though she had been out on her own for years, making her own way and captaining her own ship, that sharp, maternal tone still had the power to paralyze Trin with fear. Above all things she had always desired her mother’s good opinion. Now it looked as though it would be lost forever.

“Mother,” she said desperately. “I…I can explain.”

“You can, can you?” One pure silver eyebrow rose and her mother gave her a disbelieving look. “You can explain how you come to be sitting naked in the lap of a male who is also naked? And what was that you were saying about being pregnant, before we got a visual feed? Is this some kind of sick joke?”

“It’s no joke,” Thrace growled from behind her. “Your daughter was poisoned, Lady Trin. We had to save her life. That’s why we’re…” He cleared his throat. “In this position.”

“Is that so?” Now her mother’s icy gaze was turned upon Thrace, studying him as though he was some kind of pet which had suddenly gained the power of speech. “And whom, may I ask, are you?”

“I am Thrace S’ver, a Havoc of the elder line of S’ver and captain of the merchant class vessel, The Empress,” Thrace said, looking Trin’s mother right in the eye. “I am also, through a long and complicated series of events, currently your daughter’s loyal slave, bodyguard, and companion.”

“You bought a slave?” Trin’s mother looked at her again, frowning. “You know the Daughters of Zetta Prime frown on such practices.” She sniffed. “Among other things.”

“I know but I had to—for trading purposes on Yonnie Six,” Trin said quickly. “And Thrace is…he’s…” She tried to think how to put it. “He’s more than a slave.”

“What do you mean, more?” Her mother’s tone had turned soft and dangerous and Trin felt a shiver run down her back. As a child, she had known that the softer her mother’s voice got, the more severe her punishment would be. Thrace, however, didn’t have the benefit of that knowledge.

“What she means is that I love her,” he said, lifting his chin. “I love your daughter and I have pledged my life to her.”

“So this pet male of yours believes himself to be in love with you?” Her mother’s silver eyebrows rose another notch. “Which is presumably why I find you in the middle of this disgusting, degrading act?”

“No, Mother! I—”

“Enough excuses.” Her mother’s voice rose from a near whisper to crack like a whip. “I had hoped that the vid I was sent by a certain Lady Tam-tam of Yonnie Six was some kind of sick joke—a sham or a fabrication. But now I find you doing this.” She gave them both a look of deep disgust. “And don’t bother to try and play off the situation young lady, I know exactly what I am seeing and it sickens me!”

“Mother, you don’t understand!” Trin exclaimed. “I…I was poisoned. Like Thrace said—with passion berry wine! This…” She motioned with one hand, while she kept the pillow clutched tight to her chest with the other. “Making love with him…was the only way to save my life.”

“Then you should have let yourself die.” The words were spoken with such cold, brutal certainty that Trin gasped and clutched at her heart with her free hand. Her mother’s scorn and harsh judgment gave her an actual, physical pain—like an icy blade piercing her chest.

“Mother, please,” she whispered. “You…you don’t mean that.”

“And if you do, you’re a heartless bitch,” Thrace rumbled menacingly. “How can you speak so to your own daughter?”

“And how can you purport to care for her when you’ve ruined her beyond hope, you…you male?” Trin’s mother shot back. She turned her attention back to Trin. “There’s only one thing you can do now, other than killing yourself. Come home. Come home and subject yourself to the Purification of the Defiled. It is the only way.”

Trin felt her stomach do a slow, awful flip.

“The…The Purification of the Defiled?” It was a rite only the head priestess of the temple could perform—a horrible, painful ordeal which was whispered about with dread. It was mostly reserved for Daughters of Zetta Prime who had been raped or taken against their will in some way by a rogue male. Some said it was a fate worse than death—and her own mother wanted her to undergo it? “Mother, please…” she said numbly.

“Come home,” her mother repeated firmly. “At once. Have the ritual done. I will speak to the Head Priestess, Betina—I will tell her that this male bewitched you in some way and led you into defilement. I’ll make a large donation to the temple—she’ll do the ritual. And then…no one will ever have to know about this horrible thing you’ve done. No one…” She closed her eyes briefly. “No one but me.”

“But…” Trin was trembling. “But it’s supposed to be so painful and…and disfiguring.”

“Look at you!” Her mother’s voice dropped to a low, disgusted whisper. “Look at you, Lonarra. You were once one of the Unpenetrated. I was so proud of that—so proud. And now…” She turned her head. “Now I cannot even bear to meet your eyes.”

“Mother, please…”

“Come home. Quickly. Or I will be forced to go to the temple and have you declared one of the Defiled Dead.” She looked at Trin again. “I don’t want to do that, Lonarra. Don’t make me do that. Come home.”

Before Trin could protest again the image flickered and then died as the viewscreen went black.

* * * * *

“You’re not actually going to go, are you? You’re not really going to do that?” Thrace exploded when the evil woman who was apparently Trin’s mother finally vanished from the screen.

“I have to.” Trin rose from his lap—the encounter with her mother had made Thrace go completely soft so she was able to get up with ease. “I have to,” she said again, going to the clothes storage area and beginning to get dressed. “You heard my mother—there’s no other way.”

“No other way for what?” Thrace demanded.

“No other way for me to be forgiven.” Trin had pulled on one of her familiar black jumpsuits and a pair of black boots. She looked completely different from the female he had served on Yonnie Six but it wasn’t just her clothing that was changed.

Something’s broken inside her, Thrace thought, staring at her in concern and remorse. Gods help me but it’s true.

“Yes, it’s true—something is broken.” Trin spoke in a low, distracted voice and he realized that she must have heard him through their newly forged mental bond. “It’s broken but I can fix it…maybe. If I go home.”

“You can’t go!” he insisted.

“I have to. But there’s something else I have to do first.” She tucked a small, snub-nosed blaster into the folds of her black jumpsuit and turned for the door.

“Trin? Where are you going? What are you planning to do?” Thrace rose quickly, stuffing himself back into the tight leather trousers he wore. Damn it, why hadn’t he gotten himself together when he saw her getting dressed? By the time he was decent, she was already out the door. “Trin!” he called, trying to follow her. But to his horror, he heard the sound of a metal bolt snicking into place—she had locked him in.

“Trin, no—don’t be a fool!” he roared, pounding on the door. When that didn’t work, he kicked it. It held solid despite his best efforts—the metal panel was thick and the bolt was a strong one.

“I have to go.” Her voice was distant and cool from the other side of the door. “I have to do this. You’ll be safe in there and I’ll come get you after…if I can.”

“Trin—” Thrace began but he could already hear her boot heels echoing along the metal corridor as she walked away.

He knew where she was going—to confront Two. And there was no way he could stop her or protect her.

* * * * *

“My, my—back so soon?” Two’s single eye gleamed with malevolent glee as he saw Trin enter the room. “And feeling much better, I hope?”

“Much better,” Trin said evenly. As she spoke, she took in the situation with a single glance. Two was standing in the middle of the control area, the dissipater still held idly in one hand. The crew—the few that were left—were crowded at the far end of the room behind him. Doubtless he had been menacing them earlier but now he had his back to them and was giving Trin his entire attention.

She knew what she had to do—she just had to find someone to help her. Trin let her eyes flick up to meet those of her crew. Yonish, her engineer looked away and so did Talah, the ship’s cook. One by one, they all looked away from her searching glance, denying or ignoring her silent order. But finally, Trin locked eyes with Sidna. Sidna didn’t look away or drop her gaze. She only nodded imperceptibly.

“And did you get what you needed to quench your thirst?” Two taunted. “I understand that the Havoc can be most productive in that area. Is that true?”

“The only thing I’m thirsty for now is your blood.” Trin strode forward, keeping Two’s attention fixed on her.

“Ah-ah, my dear—I don’t think so!” He raised the dissipater and pointed it at her. Trin nodded slightly at Sidna and the medic rushed Two from behind. Locking one arm around his skinny throat, she grabbed the arm with the dissipater and jerked it up sharply, just as he fired.

The dissipater went flying from his grasp and the shot went wild and hit a panel of insulation near the ceiling, burning a huge hole in the greenish-yellow stuff. Luckily it absorbed most of the damage and kept the dissipater blast from eating through to the top of the ship. Trin was distantly grateful for that—she didn’t need a hull breach on top of everything else right now.

Stepping up, she shoved the muzzle of her blaster right under his jaw before he could wriggle loose from Sidna’s grip.

“Good job, Sidna!” Trin told her friend. “And you—hold still.” She glared at Two coldly. “Or I’ll blow your head off now rather than later.”

Two stopped struggling at once. This close to him, Trin could see that the rotten patches in his exposed brain had grown until almost all of the gray, spongy tissue was consumed by putrid, black decay. She could smell his stench—the stench of dead things hidden away in a hot, dark space—even through the clear plasti-shield he wore over that area of his head. She’d been too drugged with the passion berry wine to notice before, but now it made her want to gag. Somehow she held her stomach in check and shoved the blaster even harder into his skinny neck.

“Talah,” she said, without looking away from him. “Go to the anteroom attached to mine and get the manacles on the cot. Bring them here to me now.”

“Y-yes, Captain.” Trembling, Talah did as Trin said and was back in an instant with the manacles—and also Thrace. “I’m sorry, Captain,” she whispered to Trin. “I had to let him out when I went in for the manacles. I tried to stop him but he’s so big.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Trin told her, never taking her eyes from Two. “It’s fine. Just put the manacles on the prisoner.”

“I’ll do it,” Thrace said. Sidna stepped back and he took the metal cuffs from the trembling cook and locked them around Two’s skeletal wrists, cinching them tight. “All right,” he said in a low voice to Trin. “Now what? You want to shoot him?”

“Yes, kill him!” Sidna exclaimed in a trembling voice.

“Not yet,” Trin snapped. She gave the medic a look that made the other woman step back. Then she glanced around. “The wine. Where’s the wine he made me drink?”

Thrace rummaged through Two’s pockets and found the flask.

“Here it is—now what?”

“Are there enough for three drinks?” Trin asked coldly.

Thrace frowned. “There are but I’m not sure how it would affect a male of his species.”

“Give it to him. Let’s find out.” Her voice sounded distant and cold in her own ears.

Thrace started to protest then stopped.

“As you wish, Mistress,” he murmured, unscrewing the cap of the flask.

“What? No!” Two protested, trying to jerk away when Thrace pressed the flask to his thin, liver-colored lips. “This is not part of the foretelling! You are supposed to be my doom!” he exclaimed, staring wildly at Thrace. “You’re supposed to shoot me and put me out of my misery—not add to it!”

Thrace frowned. “Are you saying you want to die?”

“Look at me.” Two nodded his head, indicating the rotten patches in his brain. “Once I thought I’d live forever.” He sighed deeply. “Ah, but alas, I am not the same since I received the burst of power which killed my friend. The ache in my brain is more than I can bear…yet I cannot end myself. Why else would I pursue my own death and be certain that you would hate me enough to kill me?”

Thrace stared at him blankly. “And you think I’m the one who’s going to do you in?”

“So it was foretold,” Two said. “Listen…

No Kindred shall kill you

Though you spill rivers of their blood

The one who is your doom

Comes from desert and from flood.

A free-born male

Too proud to bend his knee

Enslaved of his own will

Against his will set free.” He nodded at Thrace. “That’s you, Havoc! Don’t you see? Well—don’t you?”

Trin and Thrace exchanged a glance.

“I don’t know what in the Seven Hells you’re talking about and I don’t fucking care,” Thrace growled. “My mistress says drink so you’re going to drink.”

He forced the first mouthful past Two’s metal teeth while Trin held the blaster centered on him.

“Swallow,” she directed Two. “Try to spit it out and I’ll shoot you someplace extremely painful but not remotely fatal.”

He swallowed, his knot of an Adam’s apple bobbing in his scrawny throat. Almost at once he began to shiver.

“C-cold,” he gasped, his teeth chattering with a strange, metallic echo.

“Well, well—looks like this wine of his works almost immediately,” Thrace remarked. “Must be the special strain of berries he developed for it.”

“Good. Give him the second drink. See how he likes burning up,” Trin said ruthlessly.

Thrace forced a second swallow into Two’s mouth. He was jabbering and babbling now, spouting more words of “prophesy” and boasting about his plans for the future. Not one word in ten got through to Trin. She was too busy watching him through cold, dispassionate eyes and planning her next move.

“The third drink,” she ordered Thrace after Two began to sweat and tug at his black coat, complaining of the heat. “Give him the third drink.”

Thrace looked again like he might protest but then he only shrugged.

“As my lady wishes.”

Two fought and struggled but he was no match for the huge Havoc. As Trin watched dispassionately, Thrace forced the third drink of passion berry wine past the other male’s thin, liver-colored lips. Then he clamped one broad palm over Two’s mouth and nose until, with a convulsive swallow, the wine went down Two’s skinny throat.

“Ahhh!” Two’s eyes rolled back in his head and he shivered all over, his skeletal frame quivering with what Trin hoped was unbearable pain.

Good, she thought. Let him suffer. I hope it hurts—hurts a hell of a lot. Because whatever he was feeling, was nothing to what he had condemned her to endure.

And Trin knew she would have to endure it alone.

“Now what, Mistress?” Thrace asked, breaking her morbid train of thought. He looked down at the writhing, twitching heap that was Two. “Are you finally ready for me to shoot him?”

“No.” Trin frowned. “Bring him and come with me.”

She led the way out of the control area and down the metal corridor leaving the rest of her crew standing there stunned behind her. Thrace hooked one hand under the back collar of Two’s black coat and dragged him like a reluctant pet after her. When they got to the exit for the nearest life pod, Trin stopped and he did as well.

“Now what?” he asked again, frowning. “You want to shoot him and flush his body out the airlock? It would serve the bastard right.”

“No.” Trin was still feeling cold and dispassionate—removed from the situation. It was like she was standing outside of herself, watching this scene as an observer. “No, I want him to suffer. The way he made me suffer.”

“You’re not just talking about the pain and need you felt after he made you take the third drink are you?” Thrace murmured. “I know what you must have felt, having your mother see us like that—”

“How could you know?” Trin demanded. “You have no mother—you never did.”

“No, but I had a Sire and I valued his good opinion greatly—beyond anything else,” Thrace said quietly. “I’m just trying to say that I’m sorry for your pain and humiliation.”

Trin waved a hand. “That’s nothing compared to what—” She stopped abruptly but Thrace stared at her sharply.

“Nothing compared to what?” he demanded and she could feel him trying to find the answer in her thoughts through the strange new link they’d somehow forged while making love.

“Stop it!” She put a hand to her forehead as though to keep him out. “Don’t do that! Stay out of my mind!”

“Sorry.” He had the grace to look ashamed. “I’m just worried about you. I won’t do it again.”

“You’d better not.” Trin shook her head. “Look, let’s dispose of this piece of waste and then we can talk. Out loud—not in our heads.”

Her offer to talk later seemed to placate the big Havoc somewhat.

“All right,” he growled. “Well that’s what I’ve been asking you—how do you want to dispose of him?”

Trin pretended to consider but what she was really doing was imagining a wall—a huge, thick, tall wall to guard her mind from Thrace’s probing. She had no idea if the mental barrier she was picturing would keep him out or not but she hoped so—she couldn’t have him eavesdropping on her now. Not with what she was planning.

“I want you to take him down to the planet—to Yonnie Six,” she said at last, handing Thrace the blaster which he took automatically and tucked into his belt. “Deliver him to Lord X with my compliments. They seem to be in league with each other somehow—let X take care of Two.”

“What? No…no!” Two howled. “I told you, I cannot end myself! I cannot.”

“Nobody’s asking you to, you piece of slime.” Thrace shook him briefly. “Be silent.”

But Two continued to howl and contort, continuing to insist that Thrace was meant to be his “doom.” Trin didn’t mind—all of the crying and carrying on Two was doing was obviously distracting Thrace too much to try using their new link.

“Just take him,” she said, gesturing at the door to the life pod. “Get him out of here. See how well Lady Tam-tam likes having Lord X as a guest when he’s got a moaning, crying wretch of a male to deal with.”

Thrace nodded, a corner of his mouth quirking up.

“Sounds like justice to me. I’ll take him down to X and come directly back.”

“You do that.” Trin nodded and smiled, hoping the expression didn’t look fake. “I…I’ll see you when you get back.”

“All right.” Thrace opened the life pod door and pushed the moaning Two into it. He was about to climb in himself but then he turned back, studying Trin with a frown on his face. “Are you sure you’re okay, baby?” he asked in a low voice.

“No,” Trin said truthfully. “But I’ll manage.”

Thrace sighed. “I know what happened was bad and I know things aren’t resolved between us…” He reached out a hand to cup her cheek but Trin evaded it just as Two voiced a particularly loud howl.

“And they won’t be until you get rid of that piece of trash,” she said, nodding at the open door to the life pod. “Drop him off with Lord X and then we can talk.”

The big Havoc hesitated, as though he wanted to protest or say something else. But Two howled again and he only nodded his head.

“All right, Mistress. As you command, so shall it be done.”

Trin didn’t miss his formal speech or the implications it carried. He was doing this for her as a slave but the other part of him—the male who had claimed her heart and body—wanted to stay and talk.

There’s nothing to talk about. Not anymore, she thought and was glad for the layer of ice which seemed to have formed around her emotions. It was the only thing that made what she had to do bearable.

“Goodbye, Thrace,” she said aloud. “I’ll see you…later. When you get back.”

“All right.” But he still didn’t go. Instead he leaned down and kissed her—just letting his mouth brush hers. A feather-light touch that sent a shiver through her entire body.

“Oh…” Trin whispered. “Thrace, I—”

He pulled back and looked into her eyes.

“You own me,” he murmured. Then, at last he turned and left, shutting the door of the life pod behind him and cutting off Two’s anguished cries abruptly.

Trin watched until the life pod left the ship’s side, disappearing to a tiny silver dot in the small round airlock window. Then she bowed her head.

It was done—Thrace was gone.

Chapter Thirty-one

“What’s this?” The slave tending to the shuttle parking area looked truly startled when Thrace climbed out of the pod, dragging the writhing, crying Two behind him.

“This is payback,” Thrace growled at him. “Now go get Lord X for me and make it quick. Bring him here at once.”

“Bring him here? But he’s an important visitor—Lady Tam-tam’s special guest. I can’t just demand he drop everything and come out to the landing field!”

“You can and you will.” Thrace gave the attendant a menacing stare. “Just tell him his old friend Two is here to see him. I’m sure he’ll come right away.”

“I…but I…”

“Go!” Thrace roared and at last the attendant stopped dithering and raced away to get X. “Now shut up,” he added, nudging Two none too gently with his boot. The constant screaming, howling, and crying had gotten on his nerves on the way down to the planet’s surface.

But instead of shutting up, Two began to cackle madly—a shrill, high-pitched noise which was at least as bad as his screams of pain had been.

“It’s too late,” he babbled, writhing on the ground. “Too late for her! A member of the Verrak has already been engaged. She has a target on her back—she’s as good as dead!”

Thrace felt a cold chill wash over him. He knew a little of the Verrak and everything he knew was bad—very bad.

“What? What the fuck are you talking about?” He grabbed Two by the black leather lapels of his strange coat and dragged him up to stare into his pale face. The stench of rot hung around him strongly, making Thrace’s stomach turn but he held him just the same. “What about the Verrak?” he demanded.

“They kill—kill without mercy. I took out the contract days ago—she’s as good as dead already,” Two babbled, his single eye filled with a mad, gleaming light.

“You took out a contract on Trin?” Thrace shook him so hard his metal teeth clicked together. “Answer me, scum!”

“Not your precious Trin.” Two was giggling again, a sound that grated on Thrace’s nerves. “She’s already taken care of—both of you are. It was as B’Rugh Saw—the easiest way to pull you apart was to push you together.”

“You did that all right,” Thrace growled. “But if you’re not talking about Trin, then who did you put a contract on?”

“Her! The mother of the new race! She has two faces and lives on the planet the Kindred guard—her child is the answer to their future! But I’ve taken care of that—there will be no future now. No child and no future. Only death!”

“What? Two faces?” Thrace shook his head in disgust. “You’re insane. I think the passion berry wine is affecting what little brain you have left.”

“Ah, but I was much saner before the rot spread—much saner when I asked B’Rugh to See for me.” Two smiled craftily.

Thrace began to get an uneasy feeling in his gut. He knew that B’Rugh’s people had clairvoyant abilities. They had far reaching second sight but they could use it only three times in their lifetime before the ability left them. Luckily they were a greedy people and mostly used their abilities to further their own ambitions or to forestall their own deaths. But it sounded like Two had somehow convinced his old boss to See for a much greater and more destructive purpose.

“What are you talking about?” he demanded, shaking Two again. “What did you ask him to See for you?”

“Why, I asked him how to destroy the people who had destroyed my people—I asked him how to destroy the Kindred.” Two’s spit-shiny metal teeth gleamed in the weak Yonnie Six sun. “And he told me, too. Imagine my surprise when your name came up, my dear Havoc. And your Mistress’s as well.”

“What do you mean? I’m only distantly related to the Kindred—and what could Trin have to do with them?”

“I’ll tell you…” Two’s narrow face took on a crafty expression. “I’ll show all that B’Rugh Saw—as long as you promise to kill me and put me out of this never ending misery.”

“I’ll think about it,” Thrace said shortly. “Now tell me what the fuck you’re talking about.”

“B’Rugh Saw that you, my dear Havoc, will be the father of a great nation—or your son will. Or would have, had I not torn you and the Lady Trin apart by pushing you together.” Two pulled a mournful face. “Who knew tender lovemaking could be the death knell of such a promising relationship?”

“Keep your fucking mouth shut about things you don’t understand,” Thrace growled.

“Oh, but I do understand, my dear Havoc! I understand you’ve been duped into taking me here—duped into leaving the ship. And let me ask you, do you think The Alacrity is still going to be there when you turn around to go back?”

Thrace felt a cold finger of dread caress his spine but he pushed his doubt aside.

“Of course it’s going to be there. Trin’s just waiting for me to report that I dropped you off to your friend.”

“Not friend—scion,” Two corrected. “X is me for all intents and purposes. He has my thoughts, my memories, and best of all, my intentions. I made sure of that when I grew him in the tanks back on my home world.”

“What—you cloned yourself?” Thrace frowned. He had heard of such things—in fact, some planets in the universe were notorious for illegal cloning. But he couldn’t imagine anyone wanting a clone of the hideous Two.

“Not cloned exactly. My appearance while perfectly normal for my own world is somewhat…outside the norm of other inhabited planets.” Two smiled widely, his teeth gleaming. “Accordingly I chose a different model to inject my thoughts and memories into. X is everything I am not on the outside—and everything I am on the inside. He will carry on my work when I am gone.” He turned suddenly serious. “But he cannot kill me. I told you, I cannot end myself—and he is me. Which presents a dilemma.”

“Not for me.” Looking up, Thrace saw the broad figure of Lord X coming over the grass of the landing field, followed closely by the slave attendant who was scampering to keep up with his long strides. “Looks like your clone or scion or whatever you want to call it is here.”

“So he is.” Two nodded at the approaching X. “Help me, my scion!”

Without a word, X bent down and grasped the heavy manacles that were clamped around Two’s skinny wrists.

“Good luck with that,” Thrace said. “Those fucking things are made to hold a Gox. I should know, I wore them for days before I finally—” But the words died in his throat as X snapped the manacles as neatly as if they’d been made of stale bread.

“You were saying, slave?” he murmured, giving Thrace a disdainful look.

“What the hell?” Thrace frowned. “Those fucking things are indestructible.”

“Not for X.” Two grinned. “Did I mention that I endowed him with super strength as well as a host of other qualities? I find it comes in handy—as it did just now.”

“You—” Thrace began but suddenly Two was up off the ground and reaching for him.

Thrace thought he was reaching for the blaster in his belt but before he could jump away, Two had grabbed him. Not the blaster though—he grabbed Thrace by the arm, his skinny fingertips digging painfully deep as he stared into Thrace’s eyes.

“I told you I would show you,” he hissed, his hot breath a rancid gust against Thrace’s cheek. “See now…See for yourself…”

Suddenly the landing field and all of Yonnie Six was swept away. Thrace blinked and saw that he was someplace new—a small blue and green planet with swirls of white in its atmosphere. He rushed downward and found himself staring at a low, sprawling one story structure which seemed to be made of many interconnecting halls. There was lettering at the end of one hallway but he couldn’t quite make it out—it was in a foreign tongue he didn’t know.

Walking down one of the echoing halls, which were painted a flat, industrial green, was a young woman with dull blondish-brown hair and pale, washed-out looking blue eyes. She had plain, non-descript features that would be easily forgotten and a full, plump figure that was covered in loose, baggy clothing.

She was completely nondescript and yet, when she turned her head Thrace thought he saw something—a flash of some other color in her eyes—a burning light that made him draw a harsh breath. Her hair changed too—seeming to flicker from its plain dishwater blonde to a glossy blue-black. Then she turned away and the changes were gone so quickly Thrace was sure he must have imagined them.

The plain young woman was surrounded by children—young ones that looked to be no more than six or seven cycles old to Thrace. Not much older than the age he had been when his Sire had come to claim him. Was she a teacher or a care giver of some kind? They were clamoring around her but when she raised her hands for silence, they obeyed at once.

“All right now, class.” In contrast to her plain outer appearance, she had a lovely, rich alto voice so melodious it sent chills down Thrace’s spine. “Let’s all get in line—you know your places.”

“Yes, Ms. Brooks,” the younglings chorused and formed at once into an orderly line as Thrace watched. Then he became aware that he was not alone.

“Behold,” he heard Two breathe in his ear. “She of two faces—the Mother of the new race—the race where Havoc and Kindred blood will meet and merge once more. The race that will never be!”

“What in the Seven Hells are you talking about?” Thrace demanded. Then he saw something else. At the far end of the hallway was a male with long, black hair wearing some kind of dark ocular devices which hid his eyes. When he turned, though, Thrace caught a glimpse behind them of pure, molten gold. Verrak, he thought and a shiver went through him.

“He’s watching her—watching and soon he will do more than watch. Soon she will be dead. And with her will die all their hopes and dreams—with her will die their future!” Two cackled madly in his ear, breaking the weird spell.

Suddenly Thrace found himself rushing outward, leaving the small blue and green planet. He blinked and found he was back on Yonnie Six with Two’s skeletal hand gripping his forearm. With a disgusted grunt, he shook the other male off and took a step back, his hand going to his blaster.

“Get back,” he ordered when Two started to come after him. “I don’t know how in the Seven Hells you did that and I don’t care. I’ve done as Trin asked and delivered you to X. Now I’m going back and I hope to all the Gods never to see your disgusting face again.”

“No!” Two howled, thin fists curling at his sides. “No, you cannot leave me like this! You’re supposed to kill me! You are supposed to be my doom! And you promised—you promised! I showed you everything as I said I would—you promised!”

Thrace hesitated, his foot on the steps of the life pod.

“I said I’d think about it and I have. I choose not to kill you.”

“But you have to,” Two wailed. He was crawling on his hands and knees now, groveling and writhing on the grass like an animal in distress. Lord X followed after him with a helpless look on his face as though he didn’t know what to do.

“No, I don’t. You said I was supposed to be your doom, not your killer,” Thrace pointed out. “What could be a worse doom than to be stuck here with only your clone for company while you die a slow, agonizing death? The same death you wanted for Trin.”

“I knew you wouldn’t let her die!” Two protested. “Have mercy, Thrace—I’m in agony.” He curled in on himself and clutched his thin sides. “I could bear it if it was just the brain rot but you know how the passion berry wine works—the pain is intense and the only cure is penetration and insemination.”

“That should be no problem.” Thrace laughed harshly. “You’ve got your scion with you, don’t you?”

Two’s face went very still. “What are you suggesting?”

“I’m saying you should go fuck yourself—literally.”

Turning a deaf ear to Two’s protests and howls of pain, Thrace turned and slipped back into the life pod, closing the door behind him.

It was time to get back to what really mattered. Time to get back to Trin.

* * * * *

Trin had already moved The Alacrity some distance from its original orbit around Yonnie Six but they weren’t quite out of range yet. So she had to take the incoming call when Thrace hailed the ship from his life pod.

“Where are you?” he asked at once when his image popped up on her viewscreen.

“In my cabin.” Trin had thought it best to take this particular call alone instead of from the command center of the ship.

“No—I mean where’s the ship?” He sounded impatient and unhappy. “I’m out here in the same orbit you were at before but The Alacrity isn’t here.

Trin took a deep breath. “That’s because we’re plotting a course back home—to Zetta Prime.”

“What?” He frowned. “You’re not actually going there are you?”

“I have to.”

“No you don’t. Or if you do, then I’ll go with you.”

“A male on Zetta Prime?” Trin gave a dull, humorless laugh.

“Why not? There must be a few despite what your people believe,” Thrace insisted. “Just as there are a few Havoc who choose to break their vows and bond themselves to females.”

“A very few. Mostly they belong to a small fringe element of females who still wish to preserve our bonds with Yonnie Six.” Trin ran a hand through her hair. “They aren’t recognized in polite society. And my mother, who is a pillar of the community, does not count any of them among her friends.”

“Forget about your mother for a while,” Thrace said. “What about this…this ritual she wants you to do? You’re not going back for that, are you?”

“The Purification of the Defiled,” Trin said dully. “Yes, I must undergo it.”

“But you said it was painful and disfiguring. What did you mean by that?”

Trin shook her head. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Yes, it fucking well does!” he snarled. “Trin, tell me if you’re going into danger. I need to be there to protect you!”

“I was protecting myself a long time before you came on the scene,” Trin snapped at the viewscreen. She passed a shaking hand over her face. “And anyway this…this is something no one could protect me from. Not even the kindest and bravest and most loyal slave. Which is why…” She took a deep breath. “Which is why I am releasing you from my service. You are free.”

“What? No!” His eyes widened. “You can’t do this! My debt isn’t paid! And even if it was, my place is with you—at your side. You know that, Trin.”

“Where I am going, you cannot follow.” Trin lifted her chin. “Consider your debt paid in full. If you were here, I would personally remove your collar. As it is, you have my permission to remove it yourself.”

“I don’t want to—you hear me?” His silver-blue eyes were blazing now. “I don’t want to leave you or take off the damn collar! And even if I did, you’d still own me. Haven’t you heard anything I’ve said to you? You own my heart, Trin.” He clenched a fist over his chest. “My fucking heart.”

Trin felt like the icy shell that had covered her emotions was finally breaking apart but she tried to remain strong.

“I’m sorry, Thrace,” she said in a voice that only wavered a little. “You…you have given me loyal and steadfast service but I cannot take you with me. I will have no need of a slave on Zetta Prime.”

“Yes, but you might need a bodyguard!” he growled. Then his voice dropped to a soft, pleading tone. “Why are you going back there to let them torture you, baby?” he asked. “Why can’t you just forget about all that and come with me? We can make our own way. We don’t need anyone else but each other.”

For a moment Trin almost considered it. It would be so wonderful to go away with Thrace, just the two of them…but there were more people to consider.

“I can’t,” she said. “My crew…I’m sure my mother will make the payment on The Alacrity and see that they are able to keep their livelihood if I go back home and do this. I don’t have the credit for another mission and I’ll never be able to trade on Yonnie Six again. I have to be responsible.”

“I told you we’d earn some money somehow,” Thrace argued but Trin shook her head.”

“I’m sorry but no. I can’t.”

“Tell the truth.” He looked grim. “The welfare of your crew isn’t the only reason you’re doing this, is it?”

“No.” Trin felt her mask of calm beginning to crack. “No…it’s not.” She looked him in the eyes though it hurt to do so. “I’m doing this because I…because I deserve to be punished.”

“Why?” Thrace demanded. “Why should you be punished just for making love with me? We did it to save your life.”

“I know. But…I enjoyed it.” Trin hung her head. “Enjoyed being penetrated by a male. I…” She looked up at him. “I allowed myself to derive pleasure from the feeling of you inside me…from the thrust of your shaft within my most secret and forbidden places.”

“You had to.” Thrace ran a hand through his hair in agitation. “You had to, baby! You had to come to be cured—I told you that!”

“It doesn’t change the fact of what we did or how I felt about it.” Trin put a trembling hand to her eyes. “I have never felt such pleasure. And now…now I must pay for it with pain.”

“Trin, baby—no!” Thrace looked so upset it tore at her heart. He seemed to want to reach right through the viewscreen and drag her to him. Trin wished desperately that he could. She wanted to feel those big, warm, muscular arms around her just once more, making her feel safe and loved and protected. Making her feel cherished.

But that could never be.

“I’m sorry, Thrace,” she said softly. “Really sorry for all of this. I never meant for any of it to happen.”

“Neither did I but it did—it happened.” He leaned closer. “You bought more than just my body that day in the Flesh Bazaar—you bought my soul and my heart. Trin, please don’t go—I love you!”

At last the mask of cold cracked completely and she felt the warm tears falling down her face like rain.

“I love you too,” she whispered. “But this can never be. I’m sorry but please don’t try to follow me.”

“Trin—”

“Goodbye.”

She cut the connection and stood staring at the black viewscreen, tears pouring down her face. Thrace was gone and she was never going to see him again.

It was time to go home and take her punishment.

Chapter Thirty-two

“It is time.”

The voice interrupted the strange and awful vision Charlie and Stavros had been sharing—the trance-like state they had fallen into while making love.

Charlie came back to herself with a start and realized two things. One, Stav was still buried to the hilt inside her as she sat in his lap with her arms and legs wrapped around him. And two, her cheeks were wet with tears.

“Poor Trin,” she whispered, swiping at her wet face. “Oh, poor, poor Trin!”

“She is going to a judgment which may break her,” the voice said and Charlie realized something else—she and Stav weren’t alone but whoever was with them in the room wasn’t visible.

“Hello?” She looked around the dimly lit bedroom uneasily. “Who are you and why can’t I see you?”

“It’s the Goddess,” Stav whispered hoarsely. “Can’t you feel her presence?”

What Charlie mostly felt was that Stav was still hard inside her and now they were apparently being paid a visit from the Kindred deity. Awkward!

“Oh, um…” She started to get up or try to find something to cover herself but the voice of the Goddess stopped her.

“Do not feel shame for being joined to the male I chose for you,” the powerful, feminine voice murmured. “There is no wrong in it. This is the truth that Trin does not understand—I put her and Thrace together and it is right and proper that they should find pleasure in each other. It is what I wish for all those I draw together.”

“Forgive me, Mother of all Life, but neither Trin nor Thrace are of Kindred or Earth blood,” Stavros said. “How is it you claim them?”

“Half of Trin’s blood does come from Earth—her mother chose an Earth male’s seed to impregnate her when she wished to have a child. And though the Havoc have tried to separate from me and deny me, I still love and claim them as my children. They are but a little removed from the Kindred—another branch of your lineage, as you know.”

“All right,” Charlie said, nodding. She wasn’t as startled as she had been but it was still an intensely uncomfortable sensation to know that the Goddess could see them locked together like this. “Uh…but what about the goddess that Trin’s people worship?” she asked aloud. “The Goddess of Judgment. Is she, um, related to you?”

“She is no true deity at all but a false idol made up by the Daughters of Zetta to promote their own beliefs,” the Goddess assured them. “They have formed an idea of what is right but truly it is their own darkness and ignorance they are worshiping.”

“We see,” Stavros said, speaking for both of them. “And was it you who sent us the visions then? I thought I had gained some kind of connection when Two and the demon he once hosted, Ur, touched me on the home world of the Dark Kindred.”

“Two is yet a very dangerous male. He has gained powers through his misadventures and in the process he has become even more warped and twisted.”

“Well, from what I just saw of his dealings with Thrace, it seems he will no longer be troubling us,” Stav said.

“Do not become complacent in the matter of that male, no matter what you think you have seen,” the Goddess said sternly. “But I am not here to speak to you of the Dark Kindred. I have come to tell you that your time of watching is over. It is time for the both of you to act.”

“Act in what way, oh Mother of Life?” Stavros asked respectfully.

“You must go to Thrace—the vessel he is in cannot get to Zetta Prime in time and only he can save Trin. He must be brought to her before it is too late.”

“But Goddess, uh, Mother of All Life…” Charlie wasn’t quite sure how to address a deity. “He already begged and pleaded with her and told her he loved her. What else can he do?”

“Only he can save her,” the Goddess repeated. “Trin will be given a choice and she must choose correctly. The future of the Kindred race depends on it.”

“You say the future of the race, but wasn’t that what Two was talking about?” Stavros asked. “I saw him—saw him give Thrace some kind of a vision though I couldn’t witness it myself. What about the other girl he was talking about? The one with two faces?”

“Her time is coming but it is not yet here.” The Goddess’s voice was growing fainter. “My time grows short. Go to Thrace, bring him to Zetta Prime. But he is not to go to Trin at once. Charlotte, you must prepare the way.”

“Me? Prepare the way? How?” Charlie asked, so startled she forgot to be respectful.

“Males are not welcome on the surface of Zetta Prime. But you and one or two of your choosing may go there in disguise. Wear the robes of a priestess and speak to Trin—prepare the way so that when she sees Thrace again her heart is open and ready for him.” The voice was fainter still. “She must come with you of her own accord—do not take her before she is ready. To go with you, choose only those who have no children and are not with child. Your task may be dangerous if you are recognized as imposters.”

“I…but I…” Charlie started to protest.

“Farewell…” the Goddess whispered. “Go my children. And do not fail me…”

* * * * *

“…So that’s what she said,” Charlie finished, staring around the small, crowded living area. They were meeting in Commander Sylvan’s quarters since it was slightly larger and could fit the most people. It was still early—well before first meal—and most of those gathered were yawning. A few were still in their nightclothes.

Charlie looked around at the faces of the Kindred wives—the women who had become her friends after she came to live on the Mother Ship. Liv and Sophie were there, holding their sleeping babies, as well as Kat who was holding little baby Shad. He stared up at his mother silently with wide silver eyes. Charlie tried not to look at Kat’s mates, Deep and Lock. Though she liked Kat, Charlie still harbored some hard feelings against her Kindred mates for what had happened to her older sister.

Aside from Liv, Kat and Sophie and their Kindred husbands, Becca and her two Twin Kindred mates, Truth and Far, were there. Mei-li was also sitting with her mate, the former Dark Kindred, Six. Becca and Mei-li were both holding Kat’s other babies, Seeks War and Makes Peace. The two twins were sleeping peacefully unlike their brother Shad who was quiet but wakeful.

“Okay, what did I miss?” Just then the door opened and Lauren bustled in with a baby on her hip and a platter of donuts and breakfast pastries in one hand. She put them down on the coffee table in the center of the room and looked around expectantly. Her baby, Aziza, looked around alertly as well. She had lovely skin—a warm, clear tone somewhere between the creamy brown of her mother and the pearlescent gray of her father, Xairn. Her eyes were the same amber as Lauren’s but when she was upset they shimmered with a reddish light that could look downright scary at times.

“Hi doll,” Kat said. “Charlie here is asking for volunteers to go on a top secret mission given to her by the Goddess.”

“She what?” Lauren looked confused.

“Just hush and you’ll find out. Thanks for the goodies.” Kat snagged a donut.

“And you’ve been having these visions for how long?” Sylvan asked sternly, frowning at Charlie and Stav.

Stavros cleared his throat uncomfortably.

“For some time now, Commander Sylvan. But it was my distinct impression that there was nothing we could do for either Thrace or Trin.”

“Thrace and Trin? Who are they?” Charlie heard Lauren ask Kat.

“The people Charlie and Stavros have been keeping tabs on. Apparently they’ve been seeing them off and on in these trances. Mostly while they, uh…you know.”

“No, I don’t know. What are you talking about?”

“Never mind,” Charlie said quickly. “The point is, they’re people the Goddess has claimed as her own and they’re destiny is tied to the future of the Kindred race. Also, they need our help.”

Rapidly she outlined the situation, catching the assembled group up on the salient points of the relationship she and Stavros had seen.

“And now she’s going back to Zetta Prime to undergo some kind of punishment—a purification ritual—just because she had sex with the man she loves,” she ended. “It’s so sad because Trin loves him desperately—she’s just freaked out about the idea of being with a man, er, a male since her people don’t do that.”

“They certainly don’t,” Far, Becca’s Light Twin mate murmured.

“Explain,” Sylvan said to him. “I know you’ve made an in depth study of the other sentient races our people have encountered, Far—what do you know about the inhabitants of Zetta Prime?”

“Are they man haters like the women on Yonnie Six?” Kat asked, looking interested.

“It’s more like they have no use for males at all. They see them as a kind of domesticated animal which they don’t care to keep,” Far explained.

“Huh. Like why would you keep a cow if you’re lactose intolerant,” Liv remarked.

Far nodded. “Exactly. The females of the planet form life commitments to each other only. When they wish to have children, they go to a Conception Center where they can choose from the seed of almost any race of compatible male in the universe. They have far ranging scout ships notorious for abducting lone males and extracting their seed before releasing them again.”

“Wow,” Lauren murmured. “So all those ‘I was probed by an alien stories’…”

“Are likely true,” Far said. “At least in some cases. But their seed is the only part of a male they consider in any way necessary or useful. For a Daughter of Zetta Prime to allow herself to love a male is barely a step above bestiality in their estimation.”

Liv gave a long, low whistle.

“Whew—not so good. No wonder this Trin girl’s mother was so upset!”

“She wasn’t just upset—she told Trin it would’ve been better if she died rather than letting herself be with Thrace,” Charlie said.

“Wow, doll.” Kat shook her head. “That’s some private soap opera you and Stavros have going on in your heads. I’m kind of jealous.”

“Do not be,” Stavros said heavily. “Parts of it have been very difficult to watch.”

“But that’s the point—we’re done watching now,” Charlie stood up from the low stool where she’d been seated and looked around. “The Goddess has asked for volunteers to go with us. I’m going, obviously—I’ve been watching Trin so long I feel like I know her. But we need some other girls too, to pretend to be priestesses so we can get to her.”

Becca was talking softly to her two mates and now she looked up.

“I’ll go,” she said, nodding at Charlie. “It sounds like the poor girl is dealing with a boatload of guilt. Being a former almost-nun, I know a little about that.”

Truth, her Dark Twin mate snorted. “Just a little?”

“Okay, a lot,” Becca admitted with a wry laugh. “Anyway, it sounds like my input might be useful.”

“Perfect.” Charlie nodded. “Welcome aboard. Anyone else?”

“I would…” Mei-Li hesitated. “But, well…I don’t know if I should risk folding space right now.” She blushed bright pink and Six, her mate, looked at her with surprise.

“Mei-Li?” he rumbled, sounding shocked. “Are you…?”

“I don’t know yet.” Mei-Li blushed even harder. “But, well, I might be and I’m just not sure—”

“It’s all right,” Charlie said quickly. “The Goddess said we should only take women who have no children and who definitely aren’t expecting.”

“Well, I guess that rules us out,” Kat remarked, looked at Liv and Sophie and Lauren.

Liv sighed. “Too bad—I wouldn’t mind a little adventure right about now.”

“Going to Zetta Prime is no lighthearted adventure,” Far said grimly. “The Zettites are deadly serious about their religion. If they thought anyone was profaning their rituals or disrespecting their deity in any way…it could be bad. Very bad.”

Charlie looked at Becca.

“Still want to come?”

“Absolutely,” Becca said firmly. “Let’s do it.”

“And Truth and I will come with Charlotte and Stavros to offer support in any way we can,” Far said.

“And also because we’re not letting our female go into danger alone,” Truth growled.

“Then it’s settled.” Sylvan clapped his hands together. “We’ll outfit a large shuttle for you and prepare to fold space. And, as the Goddess has commanded you to do this, I will commend you into her care. Go but be careful. We hope to see you back here with both Trin and Thrace safely in hand before too long.”

Charlie nodded her agreement and murmured thanks but she couldn’t help wondering exactly what they were getting themselves into. And even after risking everything to sneak down onto Zetta Prime, would they be able to convince Trin to leave her guilt behind and come with them?

I hope so, she thought grimly. Or we’re going to be going a hell of a long way for nothing.

* * * * *

Thrace stared in frustration at the star charts displayed on the viewscreen of his little life pod. The nearest stable wormhole was almost a light year away—not far with a hydrogen scoop propulsion system like the one on The Alacrity or on his own ship, The Empress—but over a standard cycle’s travel in the short range pod. And a cycle was too damn long to wait to get back to Trin. He kept seeing the cold anger in her mother’s eyes and thinking about the purification ritual she was so determined to undergo.

Painful and disfiguring…what the hell does that mean? What are they going to do to her? Damn it, Trin—why did you have to go and leave me here where I can’t protect you?

His heart ached with the thought of her being abused or hurt in any way. He wished he could reach out to her and he had tried to—tried reaching her numerous times through their bond. But Trin had put up some kind of block against him—one he couldn’t get through. Or at least, that was what it felt like before she left. Now he was pretty sure she was out of range. Or maybe she had just found a better way to block him?

“Who the hell knows?” Thrace sighed and ran a hand through his hair. And who could blame her if she was blocking him? Now that she knew what had happened—what his old Master had done—she might not want anything to do with him. Maybe that was the real reason she had chosen to leave him behind.

If that was true, Thrace told himself, he would set her free and not bother her any more. After all, he couldn’t blame her if she felt disgusted now that she knew his past. But before he could do that—before he could cut ties with her completely—he had to be certain she was safe.

Which brought him back to his original problem. In order to know beyond the shadow of a doubt that Trin was secure and unharmed, he had to get to her—but how?

He supposed he could go back down to Yonnie Six and steal a ship—maybe even take the one that belonged to Lord X while he was busy dealing with Two. But he might get caught. It would also take time and it had already been a day and a night since he cleared orbit around Yonnie Six. Since then he’d been studying the charts ceaselessly, looking for the fastest way to get to her—and not finding anything.

“There has to be a way,” he muttered, scrolling through the star charts again. “There has to be!”

“There is a way,” a warm, feminine voice said behind him.

“What? What the hell?” Thrace jumped and looked all around the confines of the small life pod. “Who said that? Or am I just hearing things?” He saw no one but he felt something…a presence that seemed to fill the ship. Or maybe he was just imagining it. Maybe his stress over Trin was driving him crazy…

“Your sanity is unimpaired,” the voice said. “I am the Goddess you choose not to believe in.”

“The Goddess? You mean the Mother of all Life—the one the Kindred worship?”

“The same.”

“Now I know I’m going crazy!” Thrace looked around wildly. “Why can’t I see you?”

“A mortal cannot withstand exposure to my glory,” the voice explained. “Only once was a male strong enough to do so and even then I had to veil myself so as not to destroy him.”

“All right, well…what do you want?” Thrace looked around at the seemingly empty air.

“You have left something unfinished on the planet below you. A dangerous foe to my children, of which I count you as one, still lives because you did not finish him.”

“You mean Two? I left him poisoned and in mortal agony—which was what he deserved. A quick, clean death is too good for a bastard like him,” Thrace snarled.

“Nonetheless, you have left a danger untended and I fear there will be much to pay in the future for what you have left undone.”

“Is that what you came to tell me?” Thrace demanded. “After everything that’s happened in my life, you show up now just to let me know I should have killed that bastard, Two after all?”

“No, that is not the only reason. I know you have not had the easiest life, my son.” The voice was soft and compassionate. “You have been tried in the fire but you have not been found wanting. Despite your past you were willing and able to give yourself to Trin and to love her.”

“Of course I love her,” he said roughly. “And I’m bonded to her but she’s blocking me. I can’t feel her anywhere. All I know is she’s gone home to undergo some kind of barbaric cleansing ritual.”

“It is a trial that will test Trin’s soul in the same way your first time as a slave tested yours,” the Goddess assured him.

Thrace felt a surge of panic.

“What are you saying? What are they doing to her? I have to get to her!”

“And you shall. But when you see Trin again, she will not be the same female who left you.”

“What does that mean? Please, Goddess…” Thrace looked around. “I…I can’t stand the idea of her being hurt.”

“Some pain is necessary to help her see the way,” the voice said softly. “But you will be able to heal her—providing she comes to you.”

“What do you mean, providing she comes?” Thrace demanded. “You’re the Goddess—can’t you tell if she’ll be willing to come to me or not?”

“There are many different futures, my son. I can only point my children in the right path and hope that they take it.”

“Well, I’m willing to try—willing to do anything to get her back,” Thrace said, exasperated. “But how in the Seven Hells am I going to get to her?”

“A way will be provided. You need only take it.”

“A way? What way?” He looked around but the voice and the presence which had filled the air around him was suddenly gone. What the hell? Thrace rubbed his forehead. Had he imagined the whole thing? Was his stress over Trin getting the better of him—giving him hallucinations? But no, the presence of the Goddess had been so real…

Just then the hailing frequency sounded from his viewscreen.

“What the hell?” he muttered again. Flipping on the screen to take the call, he was confronted with a blonde haired female and a male with long, dark red hair who looked Kindred.

“Thrace S’ver?” the male said, addressing him. “Greetings, brother. You don’t know us but we know you. And we’re here to help.”

Chapter Thirty-three

“Please, no more,” Trin whispered through dry lips. “Please, High Priestess, I feel so weak.”

“You are weak or you would not have allowed a male to penetrate you.” Betina, the high priestess gave her a disgusted look from under the elaborate headdress she wore. It was jet black, like her long robes, and encrusted with rubies the size of Trin’s thumb.

Trin wondered listlessly if her mother’s money had helped pay for the elaborate head gear. If so, she had made a sizable investment into one of the ugliest articles of clothing Trin had ever seen. It had stiff folds on either side and was peaked in front, coming to a point like a bird’s beak which cast the priestess’s sallow, narrow features into shadow. Her beady eyes glinted from the darkness, raking Trin with a judgmental stare that made her feel naked.

As a matter of fact, she was naked—abject humiliation was part of the ritual she was undergoing in an attempt to cleanse herself from the male influences she had allowed to enter her body. But being naked wasn’t nearly the worst part of the experience so far. Not nearly.

Trin passed a hand over her eyes, trying not to remember…wishing she could forget…

Her mother had been waiting to meet her at the front door of their domicile when she came home to Zetta Prime. She hadn’t even allowed Trin to enter the house for fear she would contaminate it. Instead, she had taken her straight to the Temple of the Goddess of Judgment, a vast, gray building with tall, imposing walls and numerous hooded priestesses roaming its echoing halls in bare feet.

The high priestess, Betina, had taken one look at Trin and dragged her to the inner sanctum of the main worship hall to stand before the huge, frowning statue of the Goddess of Judgment.

“Strip her!” the high priestess had ordered and two gray robed priestesses had complied, tearing Trin’s clothing from her body and leaving her standing there naked and shivering in the echoing chamber.

“Oh Goddess of Judgment,” Betina intoned, looking up at the tall, frowning statue. “One stands before you who has been Defiled. She has allowed a male to enter her and in so doing she has become unclean.” She pointed a finger at Trin. “Admit your sin!”

“I…” Trin’s voice had come out as a croak. “I…forgive me, Goddess—I have sinned. I have…allowed a male to…to penetrate me.” She took a gulping breath. “And…I enjoyed it. I…I’m so sorry. Please, forgive me.”

“She enjoyed it!” Betina sucked in her breath in horror.

“I…could not help it,” Trin mumbled. “I could not…could not stop the pleasure I felt when…when he was with me.” She looked up at the statue which seemed to scowl at her in anger. “Which is why I ask for forgiveness.”

“Forgiveness cannot be had simply for the asking.” Betina’s beady black eyes narrowed. “It must be earned with sacrifice. Only through pain and mortification of your body and spirit can purification be achieved.”

“I understand,” Trin said humbly. “I will do whatever is necessary.”

“Prove it.” The priestess pulled something long and silver out of her flowing robes and handed it to Trin.

Trin looked down at the pair of heavy, blunt sheers that lay in her palm and then back up again at the priestess.

“What—?”

“Cut it off.” Betina motioned to her hair. “Cut it off as a sign of your humility and your devotion to the Goddess.”

“All…all right.” Trin had always considered her hair one of her best features but she lifted the heavy sheers without hesitation and began to cut. She couldn’t see what she was doing so she knew she must be making a mess of it. But that didn’t matter now—all that mattered was making up for what she had done.

I deserve it, she told herself as long strands of her thick black hair drifted down around her bare feet. I have to pay for what I did and this is the only way.

Her head felt lighter and the cool breeze sweeping through the echoing worship chamber chilled the back of her neck when she was finished and handed the sheers back. She hoped that standing naked before the Goddess and cutting her hair might be all she had to do, but she was wrong.

The ritual was just getting started.

After her hair was cut, Betina brought out a stone chalice, so large and heavy she had to hold with both hands. Strange markings were carved around the outside and the inside of it was stained an ominous reddish-brown.

“What…what is that for?” Trin had asked hesitantly.

“Now you must bleed for your sins,” the priestess told her. “Bleed the evil from your body and give your blood to show your remorse.” She withdrew a long, curving ceremonial dagger with a jeweled handle and pressed it to the inside of Trin’s elbow.

Trin stifled a gasp as the blade bit deep and watched as her blood overflowed and poured in ruby rivulets down her arm and into the stone goblet. After a while, she began to get dizzy and wondered how much blood she had to give to atone for her sins. She felt weak and shaky when the deep cup was finally filled and one of the lesser priestesses bandaged her arm.

But she still wasn’t done.

“Bring me the hrakka,” Betina demanded. One of the other priestesses disappeared for a moment. When she returned, she held a long handled instrument with four sharp, parallel claws curving from its end.

“What…what are you going to do with that?” Trin asked, eyeing the needle sharp claws in dismay.

“As you have allowed defilement and impurity to enter into you, so you must be marked on the outside to show your evil,” the priestess intoned. As Trin tried not to flinch, she dragged the sharp claws down her arms and legs, over the tops of her breasts, her belly and buttocks—even her cheeks—scoring and scratching every inch of Trin’s body with long, bloody welts that stung and ached fiercely.

Trin tried not to cry out but the pain was intense. She shifted uneasily and the priestess slapped her hard across the cheek.

“Hold still!”

“I’m trying,” Trin whispered through gritted teeth. “The pain…”

“The hrakka’s claws are treated with an acidic agent to increase pain and suffering.” She gave Trin a cruel smile. “They will leave permanent marks so that all who see you will know what you have done.”

“What?” Trin looked at her wildly. “But my mother said, she told me that only you and she would know what…what I did!”

“That was before you admitted to enjoying your defilement,” the priestess snarled. “Such disgusting sin cannot go unpunished. Now everyone who looks at you will know that you allowed yourself to be defiled by a male. The marks of the hrakka will tell them!”

Trin wanted to cry but she refused, raising her chin instead. Maybe the priestess was right—maybe she did deserve to have everyone know what she had done—to be marked permanently for her sins and her shame. And yet…had it really been so bad? She couldn’t help remembering the feel of Thrace’s strong arms around her, the way he had whispered her name and said that he loved her. They hadn’t been hurting anyone—was what they had done really so awful?

I committed sacrilege against the Goddess, she reminded herself sternly. I have to pay the price.

But even so, the next step of the ritual was almost more than she could bear.

Betina led her out of the back of the temple, into the gardens—a vast space covered in withered purple grass and surrounded on all sides by high, gray walls.

There, stamping and snorting, were two familiar figures. Trin’s heart sank as she saw one of the lesser priestesses holding the bridles of her beloved pets, Swift and Silk. When they saw her, they tossed their heads and Swift let out a ringing neigh. He pulled free of the priestess holding him and cantered over to Trin.

“Oh, Swift…” Trin put her arms around his neck and pressed her face to his warm hide, drawing comfort from him as she had so often growing up. “Oh my good boy…” He snorted and nuzzled her hair, as if to ask what was wrong and Trin pressed close to him, breathing in the warm scent of horse hair and sweet hay and wishing with all her might that they were all back in her home pasture without a care in the world.

“That’s enough of your sickening display,” Betina snapped. She motioned at the lesser priestess. “You—come and pull this one back to stand by the other.”

Swift didn’t want to go but Trin patted and stroked him and spoke in a low, soothing voice, telling him to go back, that everything would be all right. But she was horribly afraid she was lying.

“Why have you brought my pets?” she asked in a low voice as Swift was led back to stand by Silk. Her stomach was twisted into knots and part of her already knew the answer.

“To show how sorry you are, you must sacrifice something you love,” the high priestess said coldly. “If the male who defiled you was here, we would demand you sacrifice his pain to the Goddess. As it is, the death of these two alien creatures will have to do.”

“They’re horses from Earth and I’ve had them since I was twelve cycles old,” Trin protested. “I raised them from foals. They’re old but still healthy—you can’t kill them—you can’t.”

“Why, because you love them?” Betina sneered at her. “If only you’d loved your purity as much they might have been spared. But I am afraid they must be given to the Goddess as a sign of your contrition.” She shoved a dagger into Trin’s hand—the same one she’d used to slice her arm for the blood sacrifice earlier. “Now do it—cut their throats!”

“No.” Trin shook her head violently and backed away, letting the dagger drop from nerveless fingers. “No, you can’t make me! I can’t…I won’t.”

Betina shook her head, the rubies in her black headdress winking like drops of blood in the pale sunlight.

“Weak and foolish female! Very well then, I will.”

Before Trin could stop her, she pulled a small but lethal heat-beam from the folds of her cloak and aimed it right between Silk’s eyes.

“No!” Trin jumped to stop her but she was suddenly surrounded by the lesser priestesses, all wearing their hooded gray robes. There was a zzap sound and a beam of concentrated heat and light pierced the mare’s skull, cooking her brain instantly. Silk staggered and threw up her head with a sound that was more scream than neigh…then she stumbled and slowly fell to her knees. Her warm brown eyes were suddenly lifeless as they rolled up in her head and she collapsed onto her side,

“Silk! No!” Trin broke free and ran to her but there was nothing she could do. Silk’s eyes were already glazing and there was a neat black hole burned just below the forelock Trin had loved to stroke.

The mare she had raised from a tiny foal was gone and the high priestess was standing over her with a malicious grin on her face.

“She should have died by the knife,” Betina said dispassionately as Trin wept into the dead horse’s mane. “Your punishment will be the worse because you were unable to do your duty.” Then she raised the weapon again and pointed it at Swift who was pawing the ground uneasily.

“No—no! Not Swift too!” Trin jumped up and tried to stop her—tried to grab her arm and push the blaster up and away. But before she could get to the priestess, there was another flat, lethal sounding zzap and Swift, too, gave a piercing neigh and fell to the ground. His big brown eyes rolled up at Trin as if to ask, Why did you do this to me? And then he collapsed and was silent.

Trin fell in a heap, weeping in the dirt of the temple garden. How often had she sought refuge and comfort from her pets? How often had she come home to see them cantering across the field to her, eager for her touch and the sound of her voice? When her mother was angry with her or disappointed at something she had done wrong, they were always there, Swift and Silk, waiting to comfort her and give her their unconditional love and affection. And now, in the space of a few heartbeats, they were gone—sacrificed to pay for her sins.

Me—they were killed because of me. It’s my fault…all my fault…The Goddess hates me…I don’t blame her—I hate myself!

Her shoulders shook and the sobs tore from her throat. Trin wished it was she who lay there dead in the withered grass. After all—she was the one who deserved death. Not the gentle, sweet pets she had raised from foals. Not the creatures she had loved from childhood.

The temple garden was an enclosed space, shut away from the rest of the world by its high, gray walls. As Trin lay there weeping by the bodies of her mare and stallion, she had never felt more trapped or more hopeless in her life.

“Why?” she whispered through her tears, turning her face up towards the priestess. “Why did you take them? It should have been me—you should have killed me.”

“You certainly deserve death but I promised your mother we would try to cleanse you of the defilement first.” Betina’s lip curled in disgust. “As we are not yet done, you must live a little longer. Now dig,” she snarled, kicking Trin in the side. “With your hands. You must bury these creatures as a fitting sacrifice to the Goddess of Judgment—though not nearly as fitting as if you had done your duty and sacrificed them yourself.”

Trin looked around her dully. That had been hours ago. She had been digging steadily ever since and still the hole she’d made still wasn’t half big enough for even Swift, let alone Silk as well. The dirt and stones of the temple garden was as hard and ungiving as the head priestess’s heart. Trin’s hands were bleeding, her nails chipped and torn. There was mud and blood mixed into the long welts which scored her body and she felt she would never be clean again—either inside or out.

“Please,” she whispered, looking up at the high priestess. “Can I…could I just have a drink of water?” Between the blood she’d given at the alter of the Goddess and all the tears she’d shed, she felt horribly dehydrated.

“No,” snapped Betina. “A Defiled One must strive to cry and sweat and bleed the impurities from her body—she must not replenish herself until her purity is restored.”

“But…what else can I do? What will it take to restore me?” Trin dared to ask. “I don’t know what else the Goddess wants of me…and you’ve already forced me to give her something so precious…” Her eyes wandered to Swift and Silk, lying motionless beside her.

The priestess sneered. “You think the death of a few animals can appease the wrath of the Goddess of Judgment? Let me assure you, we have barely scratched the surface of your sin.”

“But—” Trin began again. Just then, however, one of the other, lesser priestesses came out of the temple and whispered something in the Head priestess’s ear.

Trin wondered what she was saying but the long hood the priestess wore over her face muffled the noise.

“Really?” Betina’s beady eyes widened and she stared speculatively at Trin. “Is that truly so?”

The priestess nodded solemnly.

“Well. This requires some thought. Come.” The high priestess motioned in the direction of the temple. Then she threw a glance back at Trin. “You—keep digging. Oh, and think about what you would like to sacrifice next, at the ceremony tomorrow morning.”

“Sacrifice next?” Trin could hardly believe her ears. She motioned at the dead bodies of her beloved horses. “What are you talking about? What more can I give—what does the Goddess require of me before she’ll forgive me?”

Betina’s eyes flashed.

“She requires that which is most precious to you. Tell me, something girl—did you love the male you allowed to defile you?”

Though she knew it would get her into worse trouble, Trin couldn’t bring herself to lie. Lifting her chin, she looked Betina in the eye.

“Yes,” she said simply. “I loved him.”

The priestess looked disgusted.

“Loving a male…I thought as much. Well, if he were here the Goddess would require that you give him as your pets were given. But since he is not, you must part with something else—some part of yourself you would rather not lose.”

“I…I’ve already cut off my hair and given my blood and been permanently scarred,” Trin whispered, touching her ragged fingertips to the bloody welts on her face.

“That is only the beginning. You must decide what you wish to lose. Some of the Defiled choose to cut off a finger…some an ear. Occasionally we have a particularly remorseful candidate who elects to put out an eye.” She shrugged. “The choice is yours.”

Trin looked at the priestess, her heart galloping in her chest. She had heard of such practices—all the Daughters of Zetta Prime who were sent to the temple for religious instruction had—but somehow she had never imagined they would be applied to her.

“You…you want to cut off my finger or poke…poke out my eye?” she whispered in a dry, breathless voice.

“Oh no, my dear…” Betina smiled maliciously. “I want you to cut off one of your fingers or poke out one of your eyes. This sacrifice must be made by you. Otherwise the Goddess will not accept it.”

“But…but…” Trin shook her head, unable to believe what she was hearing.

“Now I must go. Keep digging. Those beasts won’t bury themselves.”

And the high priestess turned, leaving Trin alone in the garden with only her dead horses for company.

Chapter Thirty-four

“Oh honey, look at you—you’re a mess!”

“I hate to say it but Charlie’s right—you’re in a state.”

Trin looked up blearily, trying to find the source of the voices. It was dark in the garden—long past midnight she thought—and she had finally finished the grave she’d been set to dig. She’d been too weak, though, to push Swift and Silk into the huge hole. When she’d tried, a wave of dizziness had overcome her and she had collapsed at the side of the grave, breathing hard as the world faded to gray.

“Who…who are you?” she managed to croak, looking up at them. They were wearing the robes of lesser priestesses but she couldn’t see their faces.

“Someone who’s been watching you and who cares about you,” the first voice, called Charlie said firmly. “Just think of me and Becca as your guardian angels.”

“Come on, we’ve got to get her to safety—we should be able to sneak her out and get back to the ship before anyone notices if we hurry,” the second voice, who must be Becca said.

“No, I told you, Becca, she has to make her own choice. We can’t take her until she wants to go.”

“Just look at her, poor thing! Of course she wants to go.”

“No, I don’t,” Trin tried to raise her voice to be heard but her words came out in a dry croak. “I…I can’t,” she added and started coughing. “I’ve been so…so wicked. I deserve to be punished.”

“Oh, sweetie—is that what you think?” Becca’s voice was soft and sympathetic.

“It…it’s what I know,” Trin whispered, wondering why a priestess would ask such an obvious question.

“Were these horses yours?” Charlie asked, pointing at the still bodies of Swift and Silk. “So sad. I love horses but I didn’t think they had them outside of Earth.”

“They were imported for me—I raised them from foals.” Trin felt like she would have cried again if she had any moisture left in her body to cry with. “Betina—the high priestess—s-shot them r-right in fr-fr-front of me. She said I had to sacrifice them as penance for my sins.”

“What a bitch,” Charlie said flatly.

“How awful!” Becca squeezed her arm sympathetically and Trin yelped as the long hrakka welts burned at the contact. “Oh, sorry—your poor arm!”

“Please…” Trin still didn’t know what to make of them. “Please, why are you here?”

“To help you,” the first voice—the one called Charlie said.

“And to get your ass out of here when you’re ready to go,” the second—Becca—added.

They supported Trin under her arms and helped her get up and back into the temple. Once inside they had a brief, whispered consultation about which way to go.

“She needs a bath,” Becca said. “Or at least a shower—something. Just look at the poor thing—she’s covered in dirt and blood.”

“That might make them suspicious,” Charlie pointed out. “We can’t risk it.”

“We have to,” Becca said firmly. “Think of how unsanitary this is—she’s going to get an infection.”

“Please,” Trin croaked. “Water…”

That seemed to decide them.

“We can get her a drink when we get her bathed,” Becca said decisively. “She’s probably completely dehydrated.”

“All right. Good thing Stavros was able to get the schematics of this place,” Charlie muttered. She consulted some kind of hand-held device and pointed. “Look, the bathing area is this way.”

The three of them walked down the long hallway, their bare feet whispering on the stone floor as they went. From time to time they passed other priestesses but not many as it was very late. Charlie and Becca kept their heads low, their faces still cloaked by their gray hoods so that Trin had no idea what her new friends looked like—if they really were friends. She wondered tiredly where they came from and why they were bothering with her. After all, what was she but worthless scum—a woman who had allowed herself to take pleasure in being with a male? Why would anyone want to help her?

Her thoughts were interrupted when Becca said, “Here it is!”

They turned down a long corridor which had a simple white curtain at one end. Past the curtain they found the bathing area which was just a row of shower stalls divided by hanging plasti-cloth sheets with spray nozzles attached to the stone walls.

“Okay, let me get this ready for you,” Charlie said, once she’d checked to see that they were alone. “We need it warm but not too hot since you’re all cut up.”

She stood in one stall and pushed the sheet aside so she could reach the water gauge in the next one without getting her gray robes wet. But when the spray of water came out, she wasn’t pleased.

“What’s wrong?” Becca asked, frowning. “We need to hurry.”

“I know but the water’s freezing cold! Like needles of ice. And no matter which way I twist the knob, it won’t get warm.”

“That is because this is the novices’ bathing area—novice priestesses are not allowed warm water for bathing until they complete their first year and become initiates.”

The new voice made them all turn around quickly.

“Oh, hi. Um, I mean, greetings, fellow priestess,” Charlie said quickly to the lesser priestess standing there behind them with a curious look on her face. Trin noticed that she and Becca kept their hoods on, hiding their faces, though the new girl had thrown hers back, the better to talk to them.

“Who are you?” the girl, who had pale skin and light purple hair asked. “Are you new to our temple?”

“Yes, we are,” Becca said quickly. “We were told by the, uh, head priestess that we needed to clean this girl up.” She nodded at Trin.

“You mean the high priestess?” the girl asked.

“Um, right—the high priestess,” Charlie said quickly. “We call ours the head priestess sometimes back at our home temple.”

“Oh? Where is the temple you come from?” The girl raised a slim purple eyebrow.

“Um…” Charlie and Becca were clearly at a loss.

“Shatterline,” Trin croaked, helping them out. “They come from the Shatterline province.”

This seemed to satisfy the priestess with the purple hair.

“All right—good meeting, sisters.”

“Good meeting…sister,” Becca said, echoing her words. “And thank you for telling us about the water situation.”

“Yes, where can we find some good hot water?” Charlie asked.

“If you have the clearance to go into the initiates’ bathing room, it’s down the corridor and up three flights—by the high priestess’s wing.” The girl shook her head. “But are you certain you’re meant to allow the Defiled One to wash? She is still undergoing the purification ritual, isn’t she?”

“The Defiled One?” Becca sounded incensed. “Is that what you’re calling this poor girl?”

The priestess shrugged. “That’s what she is—she allowed a male to penetrate her and fill her with his seed.” She made a face as though it was the most disgusting thing she’d ever heard of and Trin felt herself wither inside with shame. “Why—do you call such females something else at your home temple in Shatterline?”

“No, we…we haven’t had this situation before. That’s all,” Charlie said quickly. “Well, it’s getting late so we’d better be getting along.”

“As you wish. I bid you good evening.” The girl put her hood back on and made a slow bow before leaving the bathing area.

“Come on,” Becca hissed. “Let’s get out of here and find the other bathroom.”

“Wait.” Charlie put a hand on her arm. “That girl said it was by the high priestess—do you think we should risk it?”

“I think we can’t put poor Trin into a freezing cold shower in the state she’s in,” Becca snapped. “So yes, I think we have to risk it.”

“Becca—”

“It’s all right.” With an effort, Trin shook free of their hands and stepped into one of the stalls. Trying to brace herself, she twisted the controls and held her breath as icy needles of water bit into her skin.

“Trin, honey—no! You don’t have to do that!” Becca protested. “We’ll get you someplace with hot water, I promise.”

“Don’t d-deserve h-hot water,” Trin answered, her teeth chattering. “D-don’t deserve w-water at all.”

But she was so thirsty she couldn’t help taking deep gulps of the stinging spray. And despite the frigid temperature, the water did at least rinse her free of dirt and grime. It also rinsed away the stinging acidic solution which had been on the claws of the hrakka. Trin sighed in relief when it sluiced off her skin. She hadn’t realized how much pain she’d been in until it finally eased some. For hours the hrakka venom had felt like millions of tiny stinging insects all over her body—now they were finally gone.

Closing her eyes, she turned around under the cold spray, cleaning her outer self thoroughly. If only it was so easy to clean my inside, she thought but that was impossible. She was dirty and sinful and disgusting and there was nothing she could do about it. Even the sacrifice of her beloved horses had not appeased the Goddess—it seemed no amount of pain could appease her.

Which is why I have to decide if I want to lose a finger or an ear or an eye, Trin thought and shuddered. She tried to push the idea away—she would have to face it soon enough but for now, she just wanted to feel clean. At least on the outside.

At last when her teeth were chattering so hard she couldn’t keep them still, Charlie pulled her out of the tub and found several rough lengths of fabric to dry her welted skin.

“Are you kidding me with these towels?” she muttered under her breath, trying her best to blot Trin dry gently. “What the hell is wrong with this place? Are they all masochists or sadists or what?”

“It doesn’t matter.” Trin took the rough towel from her and wrapped it around her scored and stinging flesh, ignoring the way it scratched her wounded flesh.

“Yes, it does,” Becca insisted. “And what did they do to you, anyway? I couldn’t tell before with all the dirt but girl, you are all scratched up. You’re a mess.” She reached out a hand and for the first time, Trin noticed her skin tones—they were the same creamy brown as her own—maybe just a shade lighter.

“You…you’re…” She compared their hands. “You’re like me! I’ve never seen anyone like me outside the few Earth vids my mother let me watch as a child!”

“That’s because I’m from Earth—Charlie and I both are.” Becca threw back her hood to give Trin a better look and Charlie did the same.

“All the way from Earth?” Trin looked at them blankly. “But…what are you doing here?”

“That’s a long story.” Charlie put her hood back up and Becca did the same. “Come on—let’s find a safe place to talk and we’ll tell you.”

Chapter Thirty-five

“So…you’ve been watching me for weeks?” Trin looked at them uncertainly. The three of them were seated on a hard, uncomfortable cot with a single thin, scratchy gray blanket. Charlie had grumbled more about the sadistic practices of the temple when she saw the sleeping accommodations but Trin was so tired she had to sit down or fall down. So now she was sitting in the middle of the cot with Charlie and Becca on either side of her.

“In a manner of speaking—I and my guy, Stavros, have been getting visions of you and Thrace—little flashes of what’s going on with you. Oh, and Stav had to watch Two also.” Charlie made a face. “Not great. But that’s why I practically feel like I know you already.”

“And it’s also why we came to get you,” Becca said. “The Goddess told Charlie and Stavros it was time to stop watching and start acting.”

Trin frowned. “What Goddess? Not the Goddess of Judgment?”

“No, of course not. In fact…” Charlie hesitated.

“In fact what?” Trin demanded.

“Well…I don’t know how to say this but when the Goddess—the Kindred Goddess, I mean—the Mother of All Life—spoke to me, she said your goddess isn’t really…well, she’s not real.”

“She is real,” Trin said, frowning. “I was raised in her shadow, trained to fear her from my infancy. She has to be real or…”

“Or you’re doing all this for nothing?” Becca asked gently, indicating Trin’s scratched body and shorn head.

Trin looked away. “Even if she wasn’t real, I’ve still broken the laws of my people—still shamed my mother. I…I deserve all that has happened to me and more.”

“My mother cries over me every night,” Becca said softly. “I was all set to be a nun—that’s like a priestess, you know. I thought I had the calling. But then, I met Truth and Far.”

“Who are they?” Trin asked uncertainly.

“My bonded mates—soon to be my husbands, though you can bet my mom and dad won’t be at the wedding. They’re certain I’m going straight to Hell in a hand basket and you know why?”

“Because she’s mated to two guys at the same time,” Charlie said.

Trin sucked in a breath.

“Two? At once?”

“That’s the Twin Kindred for you,” Becca said. “They have to share a woman—it’s physically impossible for them to be with only one at once. And believe me, my guys tried. It took a lot to bring the three of us together.”

“See two guys and one girl—that’s not commonly done in Earth culture. Well, outside of porn, that is,” Charlie said. “Most people call it offensive or wrong.”

“I call it love,” Becca said softly. “A love deeper and truer than anything I’ve ever felt. But it took me a while to come to that conclusion. I couldn’t get over what I’d been taught—couldn’t give in to the love I felt for my guys until it was almost too late. I nearly lost them because I felt so guilty I couldn’t bring myself to be with them.”

“But what if the guilt you feel is deserved?” Trin asked. “What if your actions have made you a shame and disappointment to those you hold close?” She couldn’t help remembering the disgust in her mother’s eyes.

“You can’t live your life for anyone else but you,” Becca said. “I learned that the hard way. Do I regret hurting my mom?” Her eyes grew bright with unshed tears and she blinked rapidly. “Of course I do. But I can’t give up the men I love—the men I’m bonded too—just to please her.” She sniffed. “I hope someday she’ll accept my decision but if she doesn’t, well, there’s not much I can do about it. I just have to let it go.”

“You have to let it go, too, Trin,” Charlie told her earnestly. “It’s not a bad thing that you fell for Thrace and he fell for you. The Goddess put you together—you’re each other’s destiny.”

“He’s a male.” Trin looked down at her hands. “I allowed myself to fall in love with a male and to…to breed with him. It is the most wrong and unnatural thing anyone can do and I did it.”

“Did you ever think that maybe it’s not unnatural for you?” Becca asked. She looked at Charlie. “She’s half Earth-girl, right? Even though she’s been raised here?”

“That’s right.” Charlie nodded.

“Yes, the seed that created me came from your planet,” Trin said, frowning. “My mother chose it because she wanted an exotic baby—one who would look different and stand out from the rest. She always expected me to live up to…” She swallowed hard. “To a very high standard. But what does that have to do with anything?”

“It has to do with the fact that you’re half Earth. And on our planet, a girl and a guy together is the norm,” Becca said. “Of course we also have girls who go with girls and guys who go with guys but the majority of people pair off with the opposite sex.”

“Becca’s right,” Charlie said, sitting up straighter. “Maybe you couldn’t help being attracted to a guy because of your genetic make-up!” She took Trin’s hand and looked at her earnestly. “Wanting to be with Thrace isn’t bad, honey. It’s in your blood—your DNA.”

Trin didn’t know what to say. She had never considered that her genes might have played a roll in her love for the big Havoc. Maybe Charlie and Becca were right. Maybe she couldn’t help falling in love with Thrace. Maybe—

A likely excuse, sneered the judgmental little voice in her head which sounded a lot like the high priestess Betina’s. As if any excuse is good enough for the sins you committed!

“I…” Trin shook her head. “I don’t know if I believe that my blood has anything to do with it.”

“But it must. Look, we need to take you with us,” Becca urged gently. “Thrace is waiting on the ship with my guys and Charlie’s mate, Stavros. He still loves you—loves you more than ever. Please come.”

“We’ll take you back with us and you can live on the Mother Ship,” Charlie added eagerly. “We’ve got a whole group of friends you’ll love and they’ll welcome you, Trin! And nobody will look down on you for loving a male because it’s the norm for us—not the exception. You’ll finally fit in.”

Trin drew a deep breath and for a moment, she actually allowed herself to consider their proposal. Living in a place where males and females were equal, where she and Thrace could be together without shame or any kind of recrimination…it sounded almost too good to be true.

But as much as she wished for that beautiful dream, she knew she couldn’t have it. She didn’t deserve it.

“I’m sorry but… I can’t go with you.” She shook her head regretfully. “I have to stay here and pay for my sins.”

“What—the sin of making love with the man you care about? The man you’re bonded to?” Charlie demanded.

“Look at yourself,” Becca added. “Look what these people did to you! They stripped you naked and scratched you all up and cut your hair…Honey, they killed your horses.”

“I know.” Trin felt a lump rising in her throat at the memory of Swift and Silk lying dead at her feet. “I know but…but I deserved it.”

“You did not!” Becca said indignantly. “Nobody deserves to be treated the way these people are treating you! This is abuse, pure and simple.”

Charlie leaned closer, her eyes intense.

“Come on, Trin—forget about yourself and think about Thrace. He’s half crazy with worry for you! In fact, Truth and Far had to practically hold him back from storming in here and throwing you over his shoulder like a caveman.”

Trin frowned. “What is a ‘caveman?’”

Charlie shook her head. “Never mind, you wouldn’t get it. The point is, what about Thrace? Don’t you love him?”

“Of course I love him!” Trin spoke softly though she felt like she was shouting the words. They seemed to burn her as they left her mouth. “Of course I love him,” she repeated. “I have allowed myself to love a male. To enjoy the feeling of him touching and taking me. That is the reason I cannot come with you. Because I still love him—it proves…proves the sin is still within me.”

“Oh, Trin…” Charlie shook her head sorrowfully.

“These awful priestesses here have really done a number on your head!” Becca exclaimed. “And that’s coming from a girl who almost got married to the church instead of letting myself love a man…or men, in my case.”

“I only know what I have been taught since I was an infant,” Trin whispered. “And I cannot bring myself to ignore it. Once I thought I could but then…” She flashed on her mother’s face again—on the rigid disappointment and disgust she’d seen in those dark eyes that were so like her own. “Then I realized it’s impossible.”

“Trin…” Charlie ran a hand through her blonde hair and sighed. Then she shook her head. “All right. If that’s how you want it.”

“What?” Becca looked at her friend in amazement. “You’re not just going to let her stay here, are you? Look at her! Look what they’ve already done to her hair….her skin! If we let her stay any longer…”

“As hard as it is, it’s got to be Trin’s decision,” Charlie said firmly. “The Goddess said she would have to make a choice—maybe this is it.”

“She’s not in any shape to be making choices right now,” Becca argued. “She’s brainwashed. She’s got the worse case of Stockholm syndrome I’ve ever seen!”

“I don’t know what kind of disease that is but I am completely sane,” Trin said softly, addressing Becca. “And I choose to stay here of my own free will. To complete the ritual. Anyway, I…” She swallowed hard. “I do not think it will be much longer. Tomorrow…tomorrow I have to make a sacrifice to the Goddess. Maybe then I will finally be completely cleansed.”

“What kind of sacrifice are we talking about?” Charlie asked, frowning.

“I must give something I don’t wish to lose.” Trin looked down at her hands. “A finger…or an ear. Or sometimes the high priestess says the Defiled One chooses to lose an eye.”

“Wait a minute…” Becca put a hand on her arm, being careful not to touch any of the raw welts. “Are you actually telling us that tomorrow you’re going to be maimed? And you’re okay with that?”

Slowly, Trin nodded. “It is…what I deserve.”

“For falling in love and getting a little nookie? Honey, no!” Becca shook her head. “Think about what you’re saying!”

“I have to side with Becca on this one,” Charlie said. “I had no idea they were planning on maiming you.” She shook her head. “That’s going too far—way too far.”

Becca snorted. “Too far? By any sane standards these people left ‘too far’ back in the dust a mile back! We need to get her out of here—now.”

Charlie frowned. “Maybe you’re right. This really is way beyond the pale. I just—”

“You will not be taking The Defiled One anywhere!”

The ringing voice of Betina made them all jump. Trin turned, her heart heavy, to see the high priestess standing there flanked by two lesser priestesses, both armed with hand-held destroyers. Behind them was the priestess with pale purple hair.

“I knew they didn’t belong here, your holiness,” she was saying to the high priestess. “I don’t believe they’re priestesses at all.”

“You did well to come and tell me, Lali.” Betina spoke without taking her eyes off Trin and her companions. “Who are you?” she demanded of Charlie and Becca.

“We’ve been sent by the Goddess of the Kindred—the Mother of All Life—to help and protect Trin,” Becca said, apparently deciding that honestly was the best policy.

“Yes—she’s been punished enough,” Charlie put in. “So we’re going to need to take her back with us now.”

“I think not. The Kindred goddess, you say?” Betina frowned. “I have heard of her. A misguided deity whose supporters advocate the forbidden practice of females and males mating and living together.”

“It may seem forbidden to you but it’s normal to us,” Becca pointed out. “Can’t you try and see anyone else’s point of view?”

“I see only right and wrong and what you are espousing is totally and unequivocally wrong,” Betina spat. “Not only that, it is blasphemous and disgusting!”

“Well, so much for talking it out,” Charlie muttered.

“There is nothing to talk about,” the high priestess said firmly. She pointed at Trin. “The Defiled One must be taken to a cell for security until the Ceremony of Sacrifice tomorrow. As for you…” She narrowed her eyes at Becca and Charlie. “You shall both be imprisoned in the dungeons beneath the temple while I decide what to do with you.”

“You’ll be sorry for this.” Charlie’s eyes were blazing. “We were sent by the Goddess herself to save Trin!”

“That’s right,” Becca said, also glaring at Betina. “She sees what you’re doing to this poor girl and she does not approve. Nobody would. You’re treating her like a war criminal just for falling in love!”

The high priestess looked at them speculatively. “You serve your own goddess with much fervor and determination—perhaps with a little retraining you might be led into the light to serve the true goddess—the Goddess of Judgment—instead.”

“Don’t hold your breath, sister,” Becca snapped.

“Yeah, I don’t think we’re interested in converting to the Nazi Germany of religions,” Charlie added.

“Well, you will have a night to think about it.” Betina snapped her fingers. “Guards—take them to the dungeons.”

Charlie and Becca looked like they wanted to put up a fight but with the muzzles of the destroyers pointed right in their faces, they didn’t dare.

“I’m sorry,” Trin whispered as they were led away. Though she hadn’t been able to agree with what they were saying, she was still touched that they had come all the way from Earth to try and rescue her. She only hoped her new friends would be treated more gently than she had been.

* * * * *

“So she refuses to come with you?” Thrace asked, staring at the viewscreen where the blonde haired woman, Charlie had appeared. He had spent a restless night, pacing up and down the length of the small ship, itching to invade the temple and take Trin out by force if necessary. Only the other males’ repeated reminders that the Goddess had said Trin had to make her own choice had held him back. And now to hear that she had refused to come…

“She absolutely refuses?” he demanded.

“Shhh—not so loud!” Charlie hissed. “We’re prisoners here. If anyone finds out we managed to hold on to our communicators we’re in deep trouble!”

“You’re in prison?” Stavros pushed closer to the viewscreen.

Truth and Far spoke at the same time.

“How in the Seven Hells did that happen?”

“Are you in danger?”

“Not right now,” Becca said, shoving in beside Charlie so that her face filled the other half of the screen. “We told them we came from the Goddess so they are showing us some respect. I think they think of us as misguided but possibly teachable.”

“She’s right,” Charlie said. “They want to convert us.”

“Convert you?” Truth scowled. “To a religion of fear and shame?”

“Not to mention a religion of no nookie,” Becca pointed out. “Don’t worry—we’re not going over to the dark side here.”

“Not a chance in hell,” Charlie agreed.

“I still don’t like this.” Far frowned. “Thank the Goddess you were able to hold on to a communicator when they took you!”

“Good thing we brought them in the first place,” Becca pointed out. “It’s weird how this temple is able to block our ability to think-speak to each other through our bonds. I wonder what kind of stone it’s made of? It’s so strange.”

“Strange and very lonely,” Stavros said softly. “I miss you, Charlotte.”

“I miss you too, honey,” Charlie said. “But we’re not the ones in immediate danger right now—Trin is.”

“What?” Thrace had been shifting impatiently from foot to foot, waiting to hear more news of the female he loved. Now his worse fears seemed to be confirmed. “I knew it!” he exploded. “I knew it—what have they done to her?”

“Well, they gave her a really bad haircut and scratched her up some,” Becca told him.

“Not to mention they shot her pet horses,” Charlie said softly.

“They killed Swift and Silk?” Thrace felt a stab of pain in his heart. “But Trin loved those animals! She spoke of them often…talked of riding on their backs and caring for them since they were young.”

“It was a pretty bad scene,” Becca admitted reluctantly. “They made her dig a grave to bury them, too. She was…pretty shaken up.”

“But not shaken up enough to leave?” Truth asked, raising an eyebrow. “What is she waiting for?”

“Well, she feels guilty,” Becca said. “Feels like she deserves all of this—they’ve got her completely brainwashed here.”

“She thinks loving Thrace is a sin,” Charlie added. “And she admitted that she still loves him—so she thinks she’s still sinning.”

Thrace felt like he was going insane.

“She still loves me and that’s why she won’t come to me? Oh, Trin…” He ran a hand through his hair distractedly. “What are they going to do to her? I have to get to her…I have to!”

“Well, that’s actually why we’re calling you,” Becca said. “We couldn’t get you last night because there’s no reception in the dungeons. But we’ve been brought up to a holding cell on the first floor. I think because they want us to see this ceremony that Trin is involved in today.”

“Ceremony?” Thrace felt an ominous twist in his gut. “What ceremony?”

“Well, it’s…” Charlie sighed. “It’s the Ceremony of Sacrifice. She, uh, has to choose how she wants to be maimed.”

“What?” A red curtain seemed to drop over Thrace’s eyes and he felt his hands curling into fists. “I’ll kill them,” he growled. “I’ll fucking kill them!”

“Watch out!” he heard Truth say. “He’s going into Rage!”

“Rage? I thought only Kindred could do that,” Becca remarked, looking alarmed.

“You thought wrong, apparently,” Far said grimly. He grabbed Thrace by the arm. “Thrace, listen—going into a killing Rage won’t help us get Trin back!”

“He’s right,” Becca said from the viewscreen. “Now that they know they have intruders, the priestesses have sealed the temple up tight. There’s no way you’re getting in here short of a battering ram or some kind of laser cannon.”

“Neither of which we have,” Stavros pointed out. He looked at Charlie. “Is there any way to get inside?”

“I’m sorry but not that I can see.” Charlie looked most unhappy. “You know what the schematics we pulled up showed—the doors in the front are only way in or out. Well, other than the back door to the garden. But that area’s all walled off and I think they sealed the back door as well—at least that’s what the guards who brought us up here were saying.” She sighed. “I just wish I could have brought my gun!”

“We went over that,” Far reminded her. “If you had been caught with a weapon inside the temple and had aimed it at the high priestess, your sentence would have been immediate death.”

“Yeah, well they don’t seem to have a problem with aiming guns at other people,” Charlie muttered.

“She’s right,” Becca said. “You should see the size of their weapons! You could take out an elephant with one of them.”

“Weapons aside, are you really telling us there’s no way to get to you?” Truth demanded in a low growl. “Because I don’t fucking accept that—Far and I won’t stand idly by and see you hurt, Rebecca.”

“Honestly, we’re not the ones you have to worry about,” Becca said.

“She’s right—we’re mostly worried about Trin right now,” Charlie said, nodding. “The ceremony is about to start any minute!”

“Gods…Trin…” Thrace put the heels of his hands to his eyes and pressed hard, trying to drive back the panic and Rage he felt creeping over him. “Trin.”

Stavros frowned. “Let us think about this. You say there’s no way into the temple without some kind of heavy weaponry.”

“Right.” Charlie nodded decisively.

“If we were to blow the doors open, would the two of you be safe?” Stavros asked, raising an eyebrow at her. “Could the blast reach you where you are?”

“I think the ceremony’s going to take place in the inner sanctum so we’d probably be okay,” Charlie said. “But I thought we didn’t have any kind of equipment like that?”

“We don’t,” Truth said. “But the Mother Ship does. We could fold space, get what we needed, and get back here very quickly.”

“But not quickly enough,” Thrace growled. “Not quickly enough to save Trin from being maimed. What…” He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. “What did they say they were going to do to her?”

“She, uh…” Becca looked intensely uncomfortable. “I’m so sorry, Thrace but she has to decide if she wants to have a finger or an ear chopped off or…or an eye poked out,” she ended with a wince.

“Gods!” Thrace put his head in his hands, his heart drumming rapidly in his chest. Oh Trin…oh baby, he thought, his breath coming in labored gasps. My love…my Mistress. I can’t let this happen to you…can’t sit by and let you be maimed and tortured like this!

But what could he do about it?

Suddenly he knew.

“Thrace? Brother, are you well?” Stavros touched him lightly on the arm, a look of concern on his face.

Slowly, Thrace nodded.

“Yes, I am well. Now that I know what to do.”

“What do you mean?” Far asked warily. “We already said it was hopeless to try to force our way inside until we go back to the Mother Ship and get the proper equipment.”

“Nobody is forcing anything,” Thrace said. Now that he had made up his mind about this, his heart beat was slower, his breathing less labored and the red curtain of Rage had receded from his vision. “I am going to walk in and they will admit me eagerly.”

“What are you going to do—dress up like a priestess?” Truth demanded.

“That’s not actually a half bad idea—they do have those formless gray robes that hide almost everything.” Far sounded thoughtful.

“They can’t hide the fact that none of the Daughters of Zetta grow to be almost seven feet tall,” Truth said flatly. “Sorry, Brother, but I don’t think subterfuge is the way to go.”

“Subterfuge will be unnecessary,” Thrace said. “They will let me in, knowing exactly who I am.”

“And how exactly do you think you’re going to manage that?” Stavros asked, frowning.

Thrace raised his chin.

“By telling them the truth—that I wish to take Trin’s place for the sacrifice.”

There was silence in the ship for a moment. Then Far spoke.

“Actually, I believe the Daughters of Zetta have a law that pertains to such a custom. But, brother…you do realize what you will be sacrificing.”

“I’ll be giving up a part of my body for Trin.” Thrace shrugged. “So? She already owns my fucking heart—what do I care about losing anything else?”

Truth made a sound of approval deep in his throat.

“You may not be Kindred but you act it—we feel the same way about our females. We would give anything to keep them safe and happy.”

“Truly the Goddess chose well when she put you and Trin together,” Stavros said softly. “And I know from personal experience that she rewards sacrifice. I think you’re doing the right thing.”

“I know I am.” Thrace felt a kind of peace now—a calmness had fallen over him like a cool hand soothing a fevered brow. He looked at Far. “Tell me more about this law and how I can use it to my advantage. I don’t care what it takes, I’m getting Trin out of here when this is all over.”

Chapter Thirty-six

“Stand here, Defiled One and do not move.”

Trin stood as she was told, directly in front of the statue of the Goddess of Judgment. As before, she was naked and the cold breeze swirling around the cavernous stone room made her shiver.

This time her shame was not private—apparently Betina wanted the lesser priestesses to see what would happen to them if they dared to commit the heinous crime Trin was guilty of. They stood in rows, waiting for the ceremony to begin like guests at a life-bond celebration. Only instead of two females waiting to pledge their love and lives to each other, there was only one lone female who had allowed herself to fall into forbidden love. One who had committed the ultimate sin and was now about to pay for it.

Far in the back, flanked by two burly priestesses who were armed with destroyers, she could see Becca and Charlie standing. Their gray robes had been taken and they had been given the white robes of visitors instead. Though they were being guarded, Trin was glad to see they appeared unhurt. They were both staring at her with worried faces and for a moment she wished she had gone with them while she had a chance. Wished she could have had the life with Thrace that they offered.

Then her eyes flicked to the other side of the room where her mother was standing near the back. She was also wearing a white visitor’s robe and her dark eyes were hard and unyielding—full of pain and shame. When Trin looked at her, she stared back coldly for a moment and then looked away, as if she couldn’t bear to see her only child so publicly disgraced.

Trin knew, from what her guards had told her that morning, that the recording of herself and Thrace, sent from Lady Tam-tam, had made its way to the temple. Everyone from the high priestess down the lesser priestesses had seen it. Which meant that her secret was officially out and her reputation was ruined.

Mother probably hates me now, she thought sadly. I’ve disgraced her—ruined her reputation as well as my own. Her eyes flicked to Charlie and Becca again, who were holding hands and staring at her anxiously. I don’t deserve the life they offered me. Don’t deserve Thrace’s love or a life of happiness. Not after what I did.

“Now…” Betina stepped forward, wearing rich black robes and the ugly, ruby encrusted headdress that made her look like a huge bird of prey. “We are called together today for a Ceremony of Sacrifice. Let the Defiled One come forward.”

Trin stepped towards her, head bowed, her arms clasped nervously over her breasts. She felt as if every eye in the temple was boring into her, as though everyone, with the exception of Becca and Charlie, was thinking what a horrible person she was, what a disgrace, what a shameful, disgusting embarrassment to all of Zetta Prime.

“I am here, High Priestess,” she said in a low voice. “I am…am ready to make my sacrifice to the Goddess.”

“Very good.” Betina gave her a cold look. “Attendants, bring forth the sacrificial implements.”

Two lesser priestesses brought forward a small stone pedestal and set it before Trin. On it were a short, sharp knife, a heavy cleaver and a long silver needle.

“Choose,” Betina told her. “What will you give to the Goddess to show your remorse?”

“I…” Trin’s mouth was suddenly dry, her heart pounding. Though she had been trying to reconcile herself to the sacrifice all night, now that the moment was at hand, she felt sick and faint.

I can do this, she thought and forced herself to take a step forward, closer to the instruments of pain and sacrifice. I have to do this. I have to.

Her hand hovered over the three instruments, pausing first over the needle…then the knife…and at last settling on the cleaver.

A finger, she thought, hefting it in one sweaty palm. My little finger on my left hand. It shouldn’t be too hard to chop off. The blade looks really sharp…

“Stop!” The voice from the back of the cavernous sanctuary startled everyone—even the high priestess.

“Who dares interrupt the sacred Ceremony of Sacrifice?” She looked up, her black eyes narrowing in anger.

“One has come who offers to take the Defiled One’s punishment.” It was a greater priestess speaking—one who was ranked only a step below Betina herself, Trin saw. She wore the deep purple robe of her station and behind her came another hooded figure—a huge, silent shape cloaked in scarlet.

All around her Trin heard the priestesses whispering among themselves.

“A scarlet robe—a scarlet robe!”

“It can’t be! They wouldn’t dare to bring one here—not here to the inner sanctum!”

“It must be—no other may wear the scarlet robe.”

“But here? Before the statue of the Goddess?”

Trin had no idea what the scarlet robe symbolized but she could tell from the size of the figure and the sheer breath of the shoulders beneath the robe that it could not be female. Not a female from any planet or species she knew, at least.

“Renish, what is the meaning of this?” Betina demanded, addressing the greater priestess. “How dare you interrupt? How dare you bring a scarlet robed one into the inner sanctum of the Goddess?”

“I could not help it, Your Holiness.” The greater priestess shrugged. “He invoked the Law of Transference, saying he wished to take the blame of the Defiled One upon himself.”

“He—she said he!” ran the whispers through the ranks of the wide-eyed lesser priestesses. “The greater priestess has actually brought a male into the inner sanctum!”

Betina’s eyes narrowed further, her nostrils flared and her lips became a thin red line. When she spoke, it was with barely controlled rage.

“And who is this male who knows so much about our laws?”

The person beneath the scarlet robe threw back his hood and Trin saw him clearly. Thrace.

“It’s me,” he said simply, looking at Trin. “It’s me, Trin—I came for you.”

Trin felt as though her heart had somehow lodged itself in her throat and it wouldn’t go down no matter how hard she swallowed. Thrace…here in the temple…how could it be? He was wearing his black leather pants and the red cloak but something else caught her eye as well. The slave collar Lady Tam-tam had given them—the one with the silvery-blue gems in it—was still visible around his strong throat. He had never taken it off.

“I…I told you not to follow me,” she croaked.

He shrugged, his broad shoulder rolling.

“Forgive me for disobeying, Mistress, but I had to come.”

“Enough speech!” the high priestess declared. “Male, you say you wish to take the Defiled One’s shame upon yourself?”

“I do,” Thrace said firmly.

“And do you understand that the shame requires a sacrifice?”

“I know that too.” He nodded. “I am fully prepared to—”

“Wait!” Trin’s mother was suddenly pushing her way to the front of the crowd of assembled priestesses. “Wait!” she cried again, her eyes flashing. “Are you actually allowing this? This male—he is the very one who…who defiled my daughter in the first place! He should not be here no matter what law he invoked—he is male.”

Thrace took a step forward and looked at Trin’s mother.

“I know how your people feel about males,” he rumbled. “It’s not much different from how my own people, the Havoc, feel about females. We take a vow when we reach maturity never to bond with a female—never to give our hearts and souls and tie ourselves to one. But your daughter, Trin, overcame my reservations and my determination not to bond. She did that with her bravery, her loyalty, and her compassion. She could have let me die in the slave auction at the Flesh Bazaar but she didn’t—she saved me. For that and for all that she is, I love her and I belong to her.” He touched his collar briefly. “I am hers and I would do anything for her.”

Trin felt like weeping at his speech.

“Oh, Thrace,” she whispered thickly. “It’s too much…you shouldn’t have come. I…I don’t deserve such devotion.”

“Yes, you do.” He looked at her fiercely. “And I’m here to prove it.”

“Disgusting,” Trin’s mother pronounced before stalking back to her place at the back of the sanctum. But the assembled lesser priestesses seemed to have been affected by the big Havoc’s words. The soft murmurs Trin heard from them sounded almost sympathetic. Several of them had their hands pressed to their hearts and were looking back and forth between herself and Thrace. Clearly they had never heard such eloquent, impassioned speech from a male before—or even believed it to be possible.

“Enough!” Betina’s voice was steely. “Let us get on with this. You, male—as I was saying—if you agree to take the Defiled One’s shame upon yourself, you must offer a sacrifice. Specifically an eye or an ear or a finger of your choosing.”

“I’m aware,” Thrace said softly, looking at Trin. “I am more than willing to make the sacrifice if it will clear Trin of all blame and shame and enable her to live a normal life.”

“A normal life, you say?” Betina gave a harsh caw of laughter. “There is no normal life for a Defiled One. Not after everyone knows she has been defiled.”

“But will a sacrifice on my part pay for her sin?” Thrace demanded. “Will you at least tell her she’s forgiven and absolve her of guilt?”

Betina’s voice was grudging when she answered. “The rules of the Goddess do say that a willing sacrifice pays for the defilement.”

“Good.” Thrace lifted his chin. “Then do it. I’m ready.”

Trin, who had been unable to make her mouth work during this exchange, finally found her voice.

“Thrace,” she whispered. “Thrace, no. You can’t do this for me—I won’t let you.”

He looked at her, his silver-blue eyes blazing.

“Anything for you, Mistress,” he murmured. “Anything—even this. Especially this. I cannot see you maimed when I can take the hurt on myself instead.”

“Very well,” Betina snapped. “Let us get on with the ceremony, then. Bind the male! I will not take the chance of such a huge animal going berserk at the crucial moment.”

Trin watched numbly as two of the lesser priestesses forced Thrace to his knees and cuffed his wrists together in front of him. The big Havoc made not a murmur of protest and allowed himself to be shackled without comment, even when one of the priestesses put a choke-chain around his throat, just above the collar, and held it like a leash.

“Now, Defiled One…” Betina motioned at Trin. “Choose which part of your lover you will sacrifice and make it quick.”

“You…you want me to…to…cut…” Trin couldn’t get the words out. Suddenly the frost around her brain thawed and she realized that the high priestess must have had this in mind from the beginning. Why else would she bind Thrace so that he was incapable of completing the ceremony himself?

“Of course.” A slow, cruel smile spread over Betina’s face. “You are still the Defiled One, therefore you must make the sacrifice. Whether it is your own pain you offer or another’s, it matters not but the stroke must come from your hand. The Goddess demands it.”

“I…but I can’t.” Trin’s mouth was so dry she could barely speak. She had been prepared to lop off her own finger or ear or poke out her own eye but the idea of doing such violence to Thrace turned her stomach.

“You must,” Betina declared. “It appears you have chosen to give a finger.” She nodded at the cleaver Trin was still holding. “Prepare his hands.”

The priestess holding the choke-chain around Thrace’s throat reached out but he had already placed his large hands on the small pedestal where the other instruments of sacrifice were laid.

“Do it,” he said quietly. “Do it, Mistress.”

Trin looked wildly at him. “I can’t hurt you like that—I won’t do it!”

He leaned forward, looking at her intently.

“It’s all right, baby,” he said softly, for her ears alone. “If this is what they want in order to clear your name, then do it. I want you to.”

“No!” Trin looked down at the cleaver clutched tight in her sweaty palm. Oh Goddess, why was she still holding the awful thing? She dropped it quickly, as though it had burned her and it fell with a ringing clatter upon the stone floor. “No, I can’t hurt you like that,” she said in a louder voice.

“It’s the only way,” he insisted.

“No.” Trin shook her head and backed away. “I can’t do it. Not when I…” She looked at him longingly. “Not when I still love you,” she said softly.

It sounded like the entire group of assembled priestesses had drawn in a breath at once. Betina looked enraged and her mother looked scandalized.

“How dare you!” the high priestess shrieked. “How dare you speak words of sacrilege and shame here in the presence of the Goddess—in the very inner sanctum of her temple? How dare you love a male?”

But neither Trin nor Thrace was looking at her.

“I love you too, baby” Thrace said softly. “I never stopped. Please leave this place and come with me now. I swear I’ll devote the rest of my life to making you happy.”

“The rest of your life won’t be very long—I can promise you that, male.”

Suddenly Betina was right behind him. In one motion she drew the long, jeweled dagger from her flowing sleeve and with her other hand, she grasped Thrace by his thick, black hair.

“No!” Trin gasped.

* * * * *

Thrace was about to die and he knew it.

He would have surged to his feet and fought his way free—even with the choke chain and the manacles he was certain he could have done it—but for the razor sharp blade pressed against his throat. The priestess behind him held the advantage. One swipe of the dagger would sever all the blood vessels in his throat—possibly even cut off his head. There was nothing he could do but hold still and look at Trin.

She was crying openly now, tears running down her face as she watched the high priestess threaten him. More than anything else, her tears made Thrace crazy. He wanted to take her in his arms and comfort her, wanted to kiss them away and promise her she would never cry again.

But mostly he wanted to kill the high priestess who was holding him for putting those tears in Trin’s lovely dark eyes in the first place. Trin was his female, to love and cherish and protect. He needed to keep her safe and happy and this bitch had broken her inside, filling her head with guilt and her heart with doubt. Making her hate herself simply for loving him.

And now she was going to kill him right in front of Trin. He didn’t want to die but even more than that, he didn’t want Trin to watch him die and think it was all her fault.

“I love you,” he mouthed at her, afraid that if he spoke the words out loud the priestess would slice his throat immediately. “Trin, I love you so much!”

“Please…” Trin begged, looking at the priestess. “Please let him go and don’t hurt him. I’ll give the Goddess whatever she wants—I’ll cut off my whole hand and poke out both eyes. But just please, don’t kill him!”

“Too late for that, Defiled One.” A cruel, triumphant smile was playing over Betina’s thin lips. “The Goddess has chosen her sacrifice and it is this male—the same male that defiled you in the first place. He must die for what he has done that his blood may feed her hunger for justice.”

She started to draw the blade across Thrace’s throat and he felt the sharp kiss of the cold steel as it bit into his flesh. Already a warm trickle of blood was running down the side of his neck and soon it would all be over…

“I don’t think so.”

The voice belonged to Charlie, who was pushing her way through the assembled lesser priestesses, a destroyer held in one hand. Thrace cut his eyes to the left and saw that Becca had the other weapon and was holding it on the two priestesses who had been guarding them earlier. How had they done it? They must have taken the opportunity when everyone was looking at him and Trin to catch their guards by surprise and disarm them.

However it had been accomplished, the prisoners were free and Charlie was pointing the destroyer right at Betina. She looked supremely confident and comfortable with the weapon in her hand—almost as if it was an extension of her arm.

“That’s right—just hold it right there,” she said, coming to a halt right beside Betina. “And don’t try anything funny. I’ve been a law enforcer back on my home planet for a long time and I know my way around a gun. True, this one’s a little funny…” She gestured with the wide-mouthed destroyer, nudging the high priestess in the ribs. “Looks like it could blow a hole the size of a barn door right through you. But its’ still just a gun and I’m not afraid to use it.”

“I’m not either.” Becca was turning from side to side, keeping the other priestesses at bay as she made her way to the front of the crowd. Not that any of them seemed to want to try anything, other than the ones she and Charlie had disarmed. They were watching with impotent frustration but they clearly had a healthy respect for the weapons which had been taken from them. A wise choice, in Thrace’s opinion. He didn’t know how big a barn door was but it was certainly true that a destroyer could make a sizeable hole in whatever—or whoever—it hit.

“Okay, now step away from Thrace slowly,” Charlie directed.

Betina snarled at her. “Why should I? I can cut his throat before you can pull the trigger—I am sure of it!”

“That may well be,” Charlie said steadily. “But if you do that, I’m going to shoot for sure. Ask yourself, hon, are you really ready to die just to make your point?”

“You…you blasphemer!”

Thrace could feel the high priestess’s hand shaking and for a moment the blade bit deeper into his throat, drawing another rivulet of blood. He had a sudden moment of certainty—the priestess was crazy and she was going to do it. She was going to kill him even if it meant her own death.

He held his breath and commended his soul to the Goddess.

Please, Mother of All Life, if Trin and I are not to be together in this life then let us meet again in the next…

Then, miraculously, the sharp pain against his throat eased and the high priestess stepped back and away from him.

“Good, that’s good,” Charlie said evenly. “Just keep going and keep your hands where I can see them. You—drop that chain you’ve got around Thrace’s neck and uncuff him now.”

Abruptly the steady pressure of the choke chain eased and the priestess who had been holding it knelt before him to unlock his manacles with shaking hands. They fell to the stone floor with a clatter and she scuttled away, as though frightened that Charlie might shoot her even though she had obeyed orders.

Thrace stood at once and went to Trin. She rushed to meet him and he enfolded her in his arms, feeling her tremble against him.

“Gods, baby,” he whispered, trying to hold her carefully because of the multiple cuts and welts on her skin. “Are you all right?”

“I will be if you take me away from here. Please Thrace, let’s just go.”

Thrace’s heart felt light for the first time in days.

“I was hoping you would say that. We’re going,” he promised her. “Going right now.” He looked at Charlie who nodded.

“Listen up, people,” she said, raising her voice to be heard over the frightened murmuring of the lesser priestesses. “We’re going to leave now and we’re going to do it peacefully as long as nobody tries anything. You two go first,” she told Thrace. “Becca and I will cover you.”

Thrace swung Trin into his arms, ignoring her halfhearted protests, and covered her naked body in the folds of the scarlet cloak he still wore. Then he carried her straight down the aisle at the center of the inner sanctum. The lesser priestesses were quick to get out of the way, pressing back from him as he went.

Then, suddenly, Trin’s mother was standing there, blocking his path.

“You dare,” she breathed, staring up at him. “You dare to try and take my daughter! And in the middle of her cleansing ritual! Before she has been pronounced blameless by the Goddess.”

Thrace was tired of the older female’s attitude. He could understand why she didn’t like him and that she felt he had corrupted her daughter—that he could forgive. But her willingness to stand by and see Trin hurt and tortured—both physically and psychologically—that was a whole different matter. And it was something he could not forgive.

“You’re damn right, I’m taking her,” he growled. “I’m taking her because I want to heal her and take care of her—which is a hell of a lot more than you seem to be willing to do.”

“You defiled her!” Trin’s mother was red in the face.

“No, I loved her,” Thrace corrected her. “As I love her still which is why I’m taking her. Now get out of the way.”

But Trin’s mother wasn’t budging.

“You defiled her and she allowed it!” She pointed accusingly at Trin who was curled against his chest like a wounded animal. “Allowed it and enjoyed it! Her pain and suffering are necessary. They are the only way to pay for such blatant sacrilege.”

Thrace looked down at his beloved—at the raw, red scratches that marked her lovely, creamy brown skin…at her ragged hair. And then he thought of the other damage which had been done—of the suffering she must have endured when her beloved pets were killed in front of her…the agonizing she must have done the night before when she was trying to decide whether it would be easier to chop off a finger or poke out one of her eyes. And all to please some puritanical code the priestesses had cooked up, no doubt just to scare the other females into submission and keep themselves in power.

Thinking of all that had been done to Trin was enough to make the Rage drop over him again like a red cloak that clouded his vision.

“She’s suffered enough,” he growled, fighting to keep his temper in check. “Now get…out…of …my… fucking way!”

Despite his best efforts, his voice rose to a roar on the last words and he saw Trin’s mother flinch back. Her face had turned from red to white and she stared at him with shocked eyes.

“I’d do what he says, lady,” Becca said softly, coming up behind him. “If you don’t watch it you’ll push him into Rage—that’s the state of berserker fury that Kindred or Havoc males go into when their females are threatened and it’s not pretty to see.”

“Or easy to stop,” Charlie added.

Trin’s mother stepped back but she still wasn’t done.

“Lonarra,” she said, addressing Trin directly. “Lonarra, listen to me—you can’t go with this male. You can’t throw away your life like this!”

Trin had been pressing her face to Thrace’s chest but now she turned her head and looked into her mother’s eyes.

“I have to go,” she said softly. “I’m sorry, Mother, but I have to.”

“You’ll regret this!” The high priestess’s voice rang out behind them and Thrace half turned to see what she was doing.

He was afraid she might be holding a weapon on them but instead, Betina was standing directly in front of the looming gray statue of the Goddess of Judgment, her arms raised dramatically. In one hand she held the jeweled dagger and in the other a golden bowl.

“You will regret it!” she repeated. “For I curse you now, Lonarra Trin, former Daughter of Zetta.”

In his arms, Trin jerked and gasped as though the priestess had physically struck her. Her mother, whose face was already pale, suddenly went as white as snow.

“No,” she whispered hoarsely. “Oh, no—not that! Not a blood curse—anything but that!”

“I curse you, Lonarra” Betina went on relentlessly. “I curse you that your sins will never be forgiven. They will linger in your mind and haunt you all your days. And when you die—Goddess will it shall be soon—your stained and degraded soul will be condemned to the Hell of Defiled Women where you shall burn in fire and drown in blood for all eternity!”

“Please,” Trin whispered. “Oh Goddess, please no…”

“And I seal my curse so, with blood.” the high priestess finished triumphantly.

She drew the sharp blade of the dagger down her forearm, opening a long, shallow cut which began to bleed at once. Blood spattered upon the stone floor and one of the lesser priestesses rushed forward to take the golden bowl and catch some of the scarlet drops in it. Betina took the bowl from her and knelt before the statue of the Goddess of Judgment.

“Oh Goddess of Judgment, drink of my blood and know of my devotion. Seal my curse to this female’s soul that she may never feel joy again and take her soon to Hell!”

“Please,” Trin whispered again and when he looked down, Thrace saw her eyes were filled with tears. “Please, Thrace, get me out of here!” she whispered brokenly.

“Of course, baby.” Thrace felt a stab of shame. He never should have kept her here, listening to all that crap the priestess was spouting. But for a moment he’d felt frozen to the spot—unable to move as she carried out her bloody incantation.

He turned back towards the entrance of the inner sanctum, ready to push past Trin’s mother—to knock her aside if he had to. Though he abhorred violence towards females, he wouldn’t let her stop him from taking Trin, wouldn’t let her keep them in this hell hole one more minute.

But Trin’s mother stepped quietly aside as they passed. Thrace saw Trin look up at the older woman.

“Mother…” she whispered but her mother only shook her head and looked away.

“Do not call me that anymore. I have no daughter now.”

“Mother, please…” Trin struggled to get out of his arms but Thrace wasn’t taking a chance on her changing her mind and staying for more torture. Between her mother and that bitch of a high priestess, she’d had her mind fucked with enough for one day. Hell, for an entire lifetime.

“Come on, Mistress,” he said, striding forward. “It’s time we were going now. Past time, actually.”

“Wait!” Trin begged but Thrace wasn’t waiting anymore—not for anything or anyone. He carried her out of the sanctum, out of the temple, and into the fresh air and sunshine.

Parked across from the temple in a grassy spot, was the Kindred shuttle. Thrace carried the struggling, crying Trin towards it. Becca and Charlie followed, still keeping a firm grip on their destroyers.

“Wait,” Trin begged again. “My mother…”

“Has some very fucked up ideas,” Thrace growled. “And it’s not going to do you any good to listen to any more of them.”

Trin subsided in his arms, sobbing. Thrace’s heart ached for her and he held her tight, wishing he could ease her pain.

“She cursed me,” she whispered at last. “She laid a blood curse on me, Thrace.”

“I know, baby,” he murmured into her ragged hair. “I know and I’m so sorry. But a curse is just words—you don’t have to believe it.”

“Just words,” she whispered but she didn’t sound sure of what she was saying at all.

He held her close. “It’s all right, baby,” he sent through their link. Everything is going to be all right now.”

Or he tried to send it, anyway. He’d heard the others talking about how the walls of the temple blocked their mental communication and he’d been hoping that once he got Trin outside those tall stone walls, her mind would open to him again and thoughts could flow between them through their bond.

But even now, though they were finally away from the temple of the Goddess of Judgment, the mental block Trin had put up against him and the bond they shared held strong. Even now he couldn’t reach her.

Looking at her ravaged and tear stained face, Thrace wondered if he ever would.

Chapter Thirty-seven

“Put me down,” Trin said, the moment they entered the shuttle. Thrace had taken her straight back to the far end of the craft, presumably so they could have some privacy.

But Trin didn’t want to talk to him—or to anyone. She just wanted to close her eyes and die. The look on her mother’s face kept replaying over and over in her head. “I have no daughter now,” she’d said and Trin believed her. She had been wiped from the records by the blood curse and her own sins. She was nothing anymore—and she didn’t deserve to be held in the arms of the male she loved. The male who would surely die with her if she allowed the blood curse to drag him down as well.

“I’d rather hold you,” Thrace rumbled. He passed a hand gently over her shorn hair. “Want to keep you close, baby.”

“I told you before, I’m not your ‘baby.’” Trin struggled out of his arms and turned her face to the window, looking out and away, refusing to meet his questioning gaze.

“All right. Well, at least let me get a med aid kit and treat your wounds.” He was already busy with some kind of medicine but Trin pushed his hands away.

“I don’t need that.”

“Yes, you do,” he argued. “You need help—they hurt you in there, Trin. You need to let me help you.”

“I don’t need anything from you.” From the corner of her eye she saw the flash of hurt on his face but she had gone too far now to stop. She had the blood curse on her—she had to push him away for his own good. “In fact….” She took a deep breath. “In fact when we get where we’re going I think…I think it’s better if we spend some time apart.”

“Time apart?” His deep voice sounded hoarse and strange. “Don’t you think we spent enough time apart while you were in that fucking house of horrors your people call a temple?”

“I don’t have any people now.” Trin looked down at her hands. “Didn’t you hear my mother? I don’t have anyone.”

“You have me, Mistress.” His voice was soft and sad now. “You’ll always have me. If you want me.”

Trin looked right at him and said the worst thing she could.

“I don’t,” she whispered, staring into his eyes. “I…I don’t want you anymore.” Because I don’t deserve you. Because I don’t want to drag you down with me when I go—when the curse takes hold. But she couldn’t say it out loud—it hurt too much. Hurt almost as much as the pain in Thrace’s eyes—the pain she had put there—when he nodded his head.

“Very well. When we get to the Mother Ship, I’ll ask that they house us separately.”

“Thank you.” Trin turned back to the shuttle window, her heart sore and aching. But she knew she had done the right thing. A blood curse by the high priestess was impossible to break—a sentence of death. Trin only hoped that the bond between herself and the big Havoc had been weakened enough by the barrier she had somehow put between them to keep him safe. She didn’t want him to die with her when the curse went into full effect—didn’t want him to sacrifice his life for hers when her life no longer held any value.

* * * * *

“I’m telling you, she just wants to lie on the couch all day and sleep!” Becca paced the floor of their suite, her bare feet whispering on the thick carpet. “At first we thought it was normal—I mean, she’s like a cult survivor, getting out of that awful place after all the terrible things they did to her. So of course she needed rest. But it’s been weeks now and all she wants to do is rest. It’s not right.”

“It sounds most distressing, Rebecca. We know how much you have come to care for the Zetta female,” Truth said gravely. He and Far were sitting on the large, three person couch they shared and watching her with worried expressions on their faces as she paced.

“I do care. I know how debilitating guilt can be and they laid a crazy amount of it on Trin in that temple. But she doesn’t want to talk to anyone about it—not even Charlie or me.”

Becca sighed and reflected wryly that this was probably the most upset her men had seen her since they all bonded and settled down to live happily ever after. But she couldn’t help it. She felt for Trin as deeply as Charlie did. In fact, the two of them had been visiting their new friend every day for two weeks, trying to bring her out of the funk she seemed to have fallen into. But no matter what they did or said, Trin barely replied. Becca would have thought their friend had clinical depression but it seemed to go even deeper than that—she was nearly catatonic at times which worried Becca deeply.

“There’s got to be a way we can help her!” she went on, still pacing. “She won’t eat, she won’t take a bath, she doesn’t want to read or watch movies or do anything at all…she just wants to lie on that damn couch and sleep her life away.”

“And she won’t see Thrace?” Truth asked, frowning.

Becca shook her head. “She won’t have anything to do with him.”

“What about their bond? Can he reach her that way?” Far asked.

“Charlie said he told Stavros that she’s blocking him.” Becca sighed and shook her head. There must be something we can do or someone she can talk to. The Goddess wouldn’t have sent us to get her just to watch her waste away. Would she?”

“I do not believe she would, Rebecca,” Truth said gravely. “I agree—there must be a way to help. But how?”

“That’s what I’ve been asking myself for days now!” Becca wanted to stamp her foot in frustration. “I tell you, ever since that awful high priestess put that curse on her she’s not the same girl! I mean, I know I wasn’t the one having visions of her but Charlie described what she saw and—”

“Wait a minute.” Far held up a hand to stop her. “You say the priestess put a curse on her?”

“Well, yes—just as we were leaving the temple. Why?”

“What kind of a curse?” Far frowned. “Try to remember, Becca—this could be very important.”

“Remember? I don’t think I could ever forget. It was a blood curse. She cut her arm and bled into a bowl and said all these terrible things…it was awful.” Becca shivered, remembering the gruesome sight. At the time she’d thought the priestess was just being melodramatic but from the way Far was looking at her, she began to wonder if the curse was more than just theatrics.

The light twin was already tapping away at his hand-held device, searching no doubt, for something in his extensive research file.

“If I remember correctly a blood curse is very serious,” he said frowning. “Ah yes—here it is. The curse is said to feed on the cursed one’s soul until their will to live is completely gone and…”

“And what?” Becca could feel her heart beating in her throat.

Far looked up, his face stricken.

“And she dies. Becca, I’m so sorry. The blood curse is a death curse. And it’s always fatal.”

“No—no I don’t accept that.” Becca stopped pacing. “There must be some cure—someone she could see.”

“You could start by having Commander Sylvan look at her,” Truth rumbled. “Didn’t you say she’d refused medical help before?”

“Yes, and Charlie and I let her!” Becca groaned. “What idiots we are! We thought she needed time to heal but she’s not healing on her own.”

“Now we know why,” Far said quietly. “This curse is no laughing matter.”

“Call Charlie and go to your friend now, together,” Truth recommended.

“We’ll call Commander Sylvan and ask him to meet you at Trin’s suite,” Far added, finishing his brother’s thought. “If anyone can help her, he may be able to.”

“All right.” Becca was already reaching for the thin silver wire of the think-me. “I’m calling her. We’ve sat around for too long—we have to do something about this now.”

* * * * *

“You have to take care of yourself,” Becca said earnestly. “You need to see a doctor.”

“I don’t want to.” Trin closed her eyes, trying to block her new friends out. Why couldn’t they just leave her alone and let her go? Let her die as the priestess has foretold?

“We know about the curse,” Charlie said bluntly. “And we know what it’s doing to you.”

“Then you know why I don’t wish to see a doctor.” Trin sighed. “There’s no doctor here or anyplace in the universe who can help me.”

“We disagree,” Becca said.

“That is your right.” Trin closed her eyes. “Do what you want—I don’t care.”

“Well maybe you need to start caring!” Charlie’s voice sounded sharp. “Trin, I’ve tried waiting—looking for the girl I saw in my visions to come back. You’re a starship captain for heaven’s sake! You have a happy, cheerful, calm disposition—or you did before that priestess got hold of you. You need to find that part of yourself and let her out!”

“She’s gone.” Trin could barely make herself say the words. “If she ever existed.” The blood curse had eaten the person she used to be—eaten her and left nothing but a shell.

“She does exist,” Charlie insisted. “And she’s got to come back but it seems like Becca and I can’t help you find her. So we called someone who can.”

Just as she spoke, there was a knock at the door. Becca ran to get it and came back with a tall Kindred male with spiky blond hair and ice blue eyes.

“This is Commander Sylvan,” Charlie said, introducing him. “He’s the head of the Kindred Council but he’s also a doctor.”

“Hello, Trin.” The male bowed courteously and Trin barely inclined her head in return.

“We asked him to come and look at you,” Becca said softly. “I know you don’t want any doctors but Charlie and I have done all we can—we can’t just let you waste away with this awful curse.”

That was exactly what Trin wanted them to do—just let her die of the curse. But short of jumping off the couch and running away, she didn’t see how she could avoid the doctor they had brought.

Though it seemed strange to be examined by a male medical person, Trin submitted to his poking and prodding and tried to answer his questions. Such as…why didn’t she eat?

Well, because she wasn’t hungry.

Why had she not had her wounds seen to? Didn’t they hurt?

Yes, they hurt but it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered.

What about Thrace? Didn’t she want to see him?

No, she didn’t really want to see anyone. Mostly she was just tired and wanted to sleep.

At last, after asking all the same questions that Becca and Charlie had been asking her for days, Commander Sylvan stood back and frowned.

“Far has told me all he knows about this blood curse that was placed upon Trin back at her home temple. And what I’m seeing is certainly consistent with its symptoms.”

“So it’s a real thing?” Charlie sounded skeptical. “I know what you told me about it, Becca,” she went on, looking at her friend. “But I just don’t see how it can possibly work. The Goddess herself told me the deity they worship isn’t even real. How can she curse someone if she’s just a stone idol?”

“It was the priestess who laid the curse,” Becca reminded her.

“And it is working because Trin believes it is real,” Sylvan said softly. “You cannot remove the teachings of a lifetime in a moment, Charlotte.”

“All right, fine—whatever.” Charlie made an impatient motion. “So the curse is real.”

“Real enough that it’s killing Trin,” the blond Kindred said gravely.

“Well can you help her get over it? Can you give her some medicine or remove the curse?” Becca asked anxiously.

Commander Sylvan shook his head.

“I am afraid there is no medicine for the kind of sickness the blood curse causes.”

“Well then what can we do?” Becca demanded. “We have to help her, Commander Sylvan. We have to.”

“We cannot…but maybe a priestess can,” he murmured.

“A priestess? You mean in the Sacred Grove?”

“I think that would be the best place, yes.” He nodded. “After all, did you not say that a priestess from her home world laid the curse on her in the first place?”

“Yes, she did—the horrible bitch.” Charlie made a face.

“Then a priestess from the true Goddess—the Mother of All Life—must remove it. Trin must be taken to the Sacred Grove. My kin—my niece as I believe you would call her—is here for a brief visit from First World. She can see Trin.”

“Who—Nadiah?” Becca asked. “I met her once when I was hanging out with Sophie and she called on the viewscreen. She’s nice.”

“She is also the Mouthpiece of the Goddess,” Commander Sylvan said. “If anyone can speak for the Mother of All Life, Nadiah can. We are very lucky she’s here, another priestess might have to see into Trin—that is not a comfortable experience. Nadiah doesn’t need to see into anyone to get to the heart of a problem—she has other ways of finding answers.”

“Sounds perfect,” Charlie said. “When can we see her?”

“She’s in the Sacred Grove now, giving thanks for a safe trip. Go there and I’ll bespeak her and send word that you’re coming. I’m sure she’ll be glad to help.”

“Thank you,” Charlie nodded. “We’ll try it.” She looked at Trin. “Come on, sweetie—we’re going on a little trip.”

Chapter Thirty-eight

Naturally Trin protested that she didn’t want to go anywhere. In fact, she didn’t even want to leave the couch. It was warm and safe and comfortable—she wanted to stay curled up there forever…or until the curse killed her.

But she lacked the energy to fight so she finally allowed Charlie and Becca to bathe her and brush what was left of her hair. Then they dressed her in a clean, simple white shift dress and dragged her out of the visitor’s suite she’d been staying in ever since she’d gotten to the ship.

They took the public transport down to the grassy, park-like area in the center of the Kindred ship. It was filled with families having fun, playing and picnicking on the smooth green and purple grass and basking in the light of the small but incredibly strong artificial green sun which, according to Becca, also powered the ship.

At any other time, Trin might have been interested in the things she saw all around her. She had always loved delving into other cultures and visiting new places—it was one reason she’d become a ship’s captain in the first place. But now the picnicking families seemed too loud and the sunlight seemed too bright. She felt tired and hopeless and utterly alone, even though she was surrounded by people.

“Please,” she muttered as they reached the edge of a grove of green and purple trees. “Please, can’t we just go back? This is all too much—I just want to sleep.”

“If you’re not careful you’ll wind up sleeping your life away,” Charlie remarked tartly. “That’s what my mama used to say when she came banging on my door to get me up out of bed as a teenager,”

“That’s what I want,” Trin said softly. “That’s all I want—just to sleep until I die. Why won’t you let me do that, Charlie? Why?”

“Because you’re my friend!” Charlie took her by the shoulders and shook her lightly. “Because I know who you really are inside! You’re brave and loyal and sweet and caring and smart and I am not giving up on you, Trin! Now get your ass in the Sacred Grove and stop talking about sleeping. It’s time to wake up and start living.”

To Trin’s surprise, Charlie turned her around and gave her a firm push in the shoulder blades. She stumbled forward and nearly fell but she caught herself with one hand against the trunk of a large, graceful tree. Looking up at it, Trin saw it had purple bark and leaves that were every shade of green imaginable.

It’s beautiful…The thought drifted into her head and it occurred to Trin that this was the first positive idea she’d had in weeks. She continued to stare at the tree in wonder, watching the patterns of sunlight falling through its leaves. Truly beautiful…

When she finally looked away from the tree, she found that she was face to face with a slim, blonde girl with extraordinary greenish-blue eyes. She was wearing a simple white gown, not much different from Trin’s own, and a friendly smile.

“Hi there,” the girl said. “You must be Trin. I’m Nadiah.”

“Hello…” Some of Trin’s tiredness was fading—affected perhaps by the fresh, clean scent of the trees all around her. But it was replaced by confusion. Why was she here? What did Charlie and Becca think this woman could do for her? What did they think anyone could do against the blood curse?

“Sylvan tells me you’ve been having some problems back home.” Nadiah took Trin’s hand in her own smooth, cool one and led her deeper into the small grove.

“I…guess you could say that,” Trin murmured.

They had come to a small stone bench and Nadiah settled upon it. She still had Trin’s hand and she drew her down to sit as well. Then she was silent. For a long time they simply breathed, drinking in the pure, clear air of the grove, inhaling the fresh scent of the trees. At last Nadiah turned to her.

“Tell me,” she said simply.

“I…” Trin cleared her throat. “I was blood cursed by the high priestess of my temple and disowned by my mother.”

Nadiah made a sympathetic sound.

“What happened to cause all that? You fell for the wrong male?”

“In my case it was falling for any male at all.” Trin didn’t know why she was telling Nadiah this. She didn’t even know the female. But somehow the touch of her soft hand and the delicious, clean scent of the trees all around them made her want to talk. But she couldn’t…not quite. She couldn’t seem to find the words.

Nadiah seemed to understand her problem. She placed her other hand on Trin’s face and the cupped her cheek gently.

“Be thee unbound,” she murmured and passed her fingers lightly over Trin’s lips. “Speak and tell what you must.”

Trin drew in a deep trembling breath and somehow found she was able to tell what needed to be told.

The words came haltingly at first, then faster and faster until Trin’s words were tumbling over themselves as she tried to get them all out. She told about buying Thrace at the Flesh Bazaar and saving his life, then how he had returned the favor when he followed her into The Demon’s Eye. Then their fateful business trip to Lady Tam-tam’s estate and the way they had been drawn closer and closer together. Then their encounter with Two and the way he had forced her to drink the passion berry wine. And then…making love with Thrace. She blushed with shame as she spoke of it—admitting what she had done to a complete stranger wasn’t easy. But Nadiah only nodded and there was no judgment in her face.

“And you bonded to him then?” she asked softly.

“I think so…yes…yes, I did. We did bond,” Trin admitted. “But…I didn’t want to be bonded to him. To any male. So I…found a way to block the bond.”

“And that was because of your belief that it is wrong to love a male?”

Trin nodded and explained about the religion she’d been raised in and how loving a male and especially making love to one was a slap in the face of the Goddess of Judgment.

“But it’s not just that,” she finished. “It’s the blood curse—it’s going to kill me. I had to push him away so I wouldn’t drag him down with me.”

Nadiah nodded sympathetically, still holding Trin’s hand.

“I understand,” she said quietly. “But tell me more. Tell it all—you need to.”

Trin knew she was right. But when she got to the part about what had been done to her in the temple of the Goddess of Judgment, she found she couldn’t look at the blonde girl as she spoke. Instead, she looked down at her bare feet in the purple-green grass and tried to tell the part about Swift and Silk quickly.

When she finally explained how she had been blood cursed and her mother had disowned her, she was almost afraid to look at Nadiah again. When she did, she saw, to her surprise, that the other girl’s greenish-blue eyes had turned completely green—a pure, brilliant emerald that seemed to blaze from her face.

And the pure green eyes were filled with tears.

“Uh…” Trin wasn’t sure what to say—was this normal? “Nadiah…your eyes,” she said hesitantly. “Are you crying?”

“Daughter…” The voice that spoke from Nadiah’s lips was soft and kind but it was not Nadiah’s. It was warm and feminine and filled with such power it filled Trin with awe to hear it. “Daughter,” said the voice again. “I weep for thee. Your pain and shame is mine. I take it on myself and I absolve thee.”

“You what?” Trin asked hesitantly. “I don’t understand.”

“For the sins you have committed and the ones you think you have committed, you are forgiven,” said the voice.

“Oh…” Trin whispered. Though she still didn’t fully understand, she suddenly felt filled to overflowing with some vast, profound emotion she couldn’t even name to herself. Somehow she knew she was in the presence of a deity—a being far wiser and infinitely older than herself. All around them the entire grove seemed to have hushed itself in a kind of holy reverence.

“Your holiness…Goddess?” Trin shifted a little. There was something she wanted to know, but she was almost afraid to speak to the presence that was talking to her through Nadiah.

“Do not fear. Speak your question.”

“Are you…the Goddess of the Kindred?”

“I am.”

“But…it was the other Goddess—my Goddess that I offended,” Trin explained haltingly. “The Goddess of Judgment. So how can you forgive me when she is the one I sinned against?”

“You are hers no longer, for I claim you as my own, daughter,” the voice assured her. “Fear not—all your wrongs are made right.”

“But, well…I was undergoing a…a cleansing ceremony,” Trin tried to explain. “I had to pay for my sins and I tried but…I couldn’t. Nothing I did was enough.”

“My forgiveness is freely offered—you have only to accept it. And then forgive yourself.”

Forgive yourself. It was exactly what Becca and Charlie had been telling her for days but somehow it seemed to make sense now. Trin felt something begin to loosen in her chest—a knot she hadn’t even known was there, pulled tight around her heart—was slowly being untied. The dullness that had consumed her—the wish to lie down and sleep and never wake up—suddenly blew away.

Trin took a deep breath and felt fully alive as she hadn’t since before she entered the temple of the Goddess of Judgment. It was as though she’d had a dark cloud surrounding her for days and a fresh, sweet wind had swept it far out to sea where it could never bother her again.

“I…I’ll try,” she whispered. “I’ll try to…to forgive myself.”

“You must go and be healed.” Nadiah’s soft fingertips brushed lightly over her welted arm. “When you are healed without, you will also be healed within.”

“All right.” Trin wasn’t quite sure she understood that but she was willing to go with it. Still, she had one more concern. “But…what about the blood curse?”

Nadiah’s slim hand passed over her cheek slowly.

“There is no curse,” the voice promised. “I lift it from you. There is now no shame or fear or condemnation. There is only love.”

“Love,” Trin echoed softly. Suddenly she was able to name the emotion that was filling her—it was joy. A joy so pure and sweet she hadn’t felt anything like it since childhood. “Thank you,” she whispered. “Thank you so much…”

Suddenly Nadiah closed her eyes and took a deep breath. When she opened them again, they were back to their normal color of greenish-blue.

“Um…Nadiah?” Trin looked at her uncertainly. Was she back?

“Yes.” The other girl smiled. “You’ve spoken to the Goddess, haven’t you?”

“I did.” Trin looked at her in wonder. “I really did.”

“And what did she say?” Nadiah asked, pressing her hand.

“That she forgives me and that…she loves me and claims me for her own.” Trin felt joy welling up in her soul again. “She lifted the blood curse! And told me that that…that I didn’t have to pay for my sins. She forgave me freely.”

Nadiah smiled gently. “That’s the way the Goddess works. She loves her children so much—she never wants to see them hurt or in pain. Sometimes we face difficult trials and seemingly impossible situations but the Goddess is always near and she always makes sure we get through it.”

“I believe it,” Trin said. “I believe in her. She spoke to me through you.”

“That’s part of my job—I’m the Mouthpiece of the Goddess.” Nadiah smiled. “She chooses many different ways to communicate with her children. I’m glad she chose me to communicate with you.”

“I’m glad too.” Trin smiled and realized it was the first smile she’d had in days. She raised her fingers to her face and traced the curve of her lips. “It’s so surprising…I felt like…like I’d never smile again. Never be happy again,” she said wonderingly. “And I felt so guilty for…for letting myself love Thrace and express that love physically.”

“The Goddess approves of the love between those she has brought together. She has restored your soul.” Nadiah squeezed her hand. “You are healed—on the inside, anyway.” Her eyes traced the welts that still marred Trin’s skin.

“She said something about that—she said that if I was healed on the outside, I’d be completely healed on the inside too.” Trin frowned. “But I’m not sure what she meant by that. Maybe just that I should go to a doctor and do what he tells me?”

“Maybe,” Nadiah agreed.

“I didn’t want to before,” Trin confessed. “I didn’t want to do anything but sleep until…until I died. Until the blood curse killed me. But now I want to live.”

“You will live…a long and happy life.” Nadiah smiled at her. “You’ll have some hardships along the way but always remember the Goddess is watching out for you. And that she has a very special purpose for your life.”

“She does?” Trin whispered.

Nadiah nodded. “She does. And now you need to go. I believe there is someone you need to see in order to complete the task the Goddess gave you. You need to be healed.”

“All right.” Trin nodded her head, feeling her strength and hope and purpose return. She gestured at her arms. “I’m tired of looking like this. I’m going to see if there’s anything I can do to look normal again.”

“You will be made well.” Nadiah smiled at her. “And, Trin—you are loved and forgiven—a child of the Goddess. Always remember that.”

“I will,” Trin whispered. Impulsively she threw her arms around Nadiah’s neck and hugged her. The other girl hugged her back, enfolding her in an embrace that was kind and comforting. “Thank you so much. I will.”

Chapter Thirty-nine

“You’re sure about this?” Thrace looked at the small vial of blue medicine Commander Sylvan had handed him.

“Quite sure. Our Tolleg doctor, Yipper, has been working on it for months.” Sylvan nodded at the little person? Animal? Thrace wasn’t sure what he was but he was small and gray and furry and wore a white lab coat.

“Hello, hello,” he said to Thrace, nodding his furry head so rapidly it made his long floppy ears shake.

“Uh, hello.” Thrace nodded back at him.

“He actually used much of my own essence as well as that of other Blood Kindred who donated their time and essence to make it,” Sylvan said.

“And it does…what again?” Thrace raised an eyebrow at him but it was Yipper who fielded the question.

“It enables any Kindred male to make a protein in their saliva that acts as a healing agent. Yes it does, yes it does,” he said in his high, squeaky voice. “So that you can heal the female you are bonded to. Only her and no one else, you understand. Some of the Kindred already have this ability but others wanted it as well. Yes they did, yes they did. So I developed the Healing Compound for them.”

“But…I’m Havoc, not Kindred,” Thrace objected. “How do you know this will work on me?”

“Your DNA is almost the same as a Kindred’s—ninety-nine point nine percent the same. Yes it is, yes it is.” Yipper nodded vigorously again. “You should have no problem metabolizing the compound. No you shouldn’t, no you shouldn’t.”

“So you’re saying I should drink this…and then I’ll be able to heal Trin?” Thrace was still skeptical.

“Yes, absolutely,” Commander Sylvan said, nodding firmly. “There should be no problem at all.”

“No problem, you say?” Thrace frowned. “Well, I can see a problem. Even if this works, what makes you think I’d be able to convince Trin to let me try it out on her? I can’t get through to her—not even using our bond. In fact…” He passed a hand over his eyes briefly. “To tell you the truth, I’m not even sure if we have a bond anymore.”

Not that she’d want to be bonded to me—not now that she knows my past. They’d never really gotten to discuss what she’d learned about his first time as a slave back on Yonnie Six but Thrace thought they didn’t really need to. It was clear from her actions that she wanted to distance herself from him and while some of that was probably due to the awful things that had happened to her in the temple, he was certain that his own terrible past played a part in it too.

Sylvan frowned. “That could be a problem if the bond was completely destroyed. But if it’s only blocked, the compound can still be effective simply by removing the block.”

“You think I haven’t tried? You think I haven’t been reaching out to her, here on the ship?” Thrace demanded. “I don’t even think she feels me. I’m telling you, Commander, she wants nothing to do with our bond. In fact…” He took a deep breath. “In fact, I’ve decided to leave here. My own ship, The Empress, is still in dry dock on Padge and my first mate, Solar is missing. We were drugged and taken to the Flesh Bazaar to be sold as slaves at the same time. If I can’t help Trin, I might as well go and help him. If he’s even still alive.”

“Your duty to your friend and shipmate is admirable,” Sylvan said seriously. “But your duty to the female you are bonded to must take precedence.”

“And it would, if she still wanted me.” Thrace let his fingers wander up to touch the black collar he still wore. Then, with quick, decisive motions, he took it off and laid it on the chair beside him. “If she would let me in. But she won’t, so I have to go.” He looked down at the collar. “Knowing she’s just down the hallway but being unable to talk to her or see her or hold her…it’s too fucking painful.”

“I understand,” Sylvan said quietly. “The pain of a rejected bond is excruciating.”

“Which is why I have to go.” Thrace turned away. “In fact, you caught me in the middle of packing—not that I have much to pack. I was hoping I could borrow a shuttle—just until I get The Empress out of drydock. I—”

“Hello, Thrace.”

The soft, familiar voice startled him. He turned to see Trin standing in the doorway, a look of uncertainty on her face. She was wearing a white, sleeveless gown that showed the long, angry red welts which marred her creamy brown skin. Her eyes were huge and hurt-looking as they flicked first from his bare throat and then to the discarded black leather collar which lay on the arm of the chair beside him.

“Trin?” He took a step towards her but she shook her head and stepped back.

“I’m sorry,” she said softly. “Your door was open so I thought…but if you’re leaving now, I won’t bother you. Don’t…don’t let me stop you.”

She turned but Thrace wasn’t about to let her go. In one stride he was across the room, taking her by the arm.

Trin winced and made a little sound of pain as his hand made contact with the welts on her skin.

“Sorry, I’m sorry!” Thrace dropped her arm hurriedly. “I just…didn’t want you to go.”

“Why not?” She turned to face him again. “You are.”

“I have to find my first mate, Solar. He was sold as a slave too,” Thrace reminded her. “And besides, you didn’t want to see me—didn’t want anything to do with me.” He tried not to let the hurt and frustration creep into his voice but it was hard. “Why are you even here?” he asked bluntly.

Trin bit her bottom lip. “To…to be healed,” she whispered. I was told that I needed to seek help and Commander Sylvan said he had something that might heal these…” She gestured to her welted skin. “But that you were the only one who could give it to me.”

“Indeed, and Yipper and I just came to drop it off.” Sylvan, who had been standing quietly to one side, nodded at the little vial of blue liquid Thrace still clutched tight in his hand. “In fact, I think we ought to leave you alone now.”

“The compound is best applied in private. Yes it is, yes it is.” Yipper nodded vigorously.

“Good luck.” Sylvan put a hand on Thrace’s shoulder and squeezed briefly. “Come and see me after…one way or the other.”

“Thank you.” Thrace nodded and looked at the vial in his hand uncertainly.

“It becomes effective the moment you take it. Yes it does, yes it does,” Yipper told him and then he and the Kindred commander left, shutting the front door of Thrace’s guest suite quietly behind them.

Thrace sighed and looked down at the vial.

“Well, here goes.” He unscrewed the lid and put the vial to his lips, downing its contents in three quick swallows.

* * * * *

Trin stared at him blankly.

“What are you doing?” She shook her head. “Why did you drink the medicine that was supposed to be for me?”

“Why did I…oh Gods…You mean Commander Sylvan didn’t tell you?”

“Tell me what? What are you talking about?” Trin asked, frowning. “He just told me to meet him at your suite.”

“Gods…” Thrace went to the couch and sank down on it, putting his head in his hands.

“Thrace?” Trin went to him. Her hand hovered over his head but she didn’t quite dare to touch him, though she longed to bury her fingers in his thick, wild hair. “Did I ask the wrong question? What was Commander Sylvan supposed to tell me?”

“That the medicine he gave me wasn’t for you to drink. Or to rub on your wounds.”

“But then…how was it supposed to help me?” Trin shook her head, not understanding.

Thrace looked up at her, his silver-blue eyes blazing.

“It was for me to drink. It enables my body to make a healing compound I can apply to your cuts and abrasions.”

“Apply…how?” Trin was beginning to feel uncertain all over again.

“By licking you,” he said softly. “By bathing your hurt areas with my tongue. Apparently it’s the only way the medicine is effective.”

“I…I didn’t know that.” Trin edged away from him. “No one told me that.”

“Because I’m sure you wouldn’t have come if they had.” Thrace’s deep voice was hurt and bitter. “I know how you feel about letting me touch you intimately. Letting me taste you intimately—especially now that you know my past. I understand how wrong it makes you feel so I won’t even ask. I’ll just go.”

He turned away, presumably to get back to his packing. But something inside Trin couldn’t let that happen. She couldn’t bear to watch him walk away—couldn’t let him leave not knowing when or if she would ever see him again.

“Thrace, wait.” Hesitantly, she reached for him and let her fingertips drift lightly over the back of his arm.

A visible shiver ran through him at her light touch. Turning, he faced her once more, a look of pain etched on his strong features.

“What is it, Trin?”

Trin bit her lip. Not “Mistress,” not “baby” just Trin. Was that all she was to him now? Had she pushed him away for too long? Would she ever be able to get him back?

“I…” She didn’t know what to say but she couldn’t remain silent. If she did, she would lose him forever.

“Yes?” Thrace asked impatiently. “What is it you want?”

“I want you to try it.” Trin lifted her chin. “I’m not afraid. Well…not much,” she added honestly.

Thrace sighed and went back to the couch. “I don’t even know if it will work. It’s supposed to be for bonded couples and you and I…I don’t even know if we’re bonded anymore.”

Trin looked down at her hands.

“I know I’ve been blocking you,” she whispered. “I started it for your own good—because I didn’t want to hurt you or drag you down with me. And now…now I can’t seem to stop.”

“Well…” He sighed again. “I guess you can’t help it—I don’t blame you after what you found out about me on Yonnie Six. Not to mention everything you went through in that fucking temple. Come here.” He gestured for her and Trin came to stand between his thighs.

She could feel the heat of his big body and the warm scent of his skin seemed to envelope her. He was wearing black leather trousers and a deep red long sleeved shirt which looked like the uniforms the Kindred wore. For a moment she was tempted to unfasten the buttons that held it closed and caress the strong chest she knew lay beneath…But she held back. Would her touch be welcomed? Or was Thrace still too angry with her to want anything to do with her?

“So you want to be healed?” he asked, taking her hand in his.

“I…I’d like you to try. If you don’t mind.” Trin could barely look him in the eye.

“I don’t mind.” His deep voice came out sounding rough.

“It doesn’t have to mean anything,” Trin said quickly. “I mean, if you don’t want it to. You can…can still leave after if you want, of course. I wouldn’t presume to keep you.”

“You wouldn’t, huh?” He looked up at her, his pale eyes narrowed.

“No, of course not. After all…I have no hold on you anymore.” Trin let her fingers drift lightly to his throat, where the collar had been for so long. “I’m not your Mistress anymore. I’m nothing to you.”

“Oh, Trin…” He closed his eyes briefly and for a moment she almost thought she felt something through their blocked bond. Some deep current of emotion she couldn’t name. Then it was gone and when he looked up at her, his eyes were hard. “Fine,” he said flatly. “I’ll do my best to heal you and then I’ll be on my way.”

“All right.” She lifted her chin. “If that’s the way you want it.”

“That’s the way you want it.”

Before she could answer, he seized her hand in his and bent down as though he meant to kiss the back of it. Instead he licked it—dragging his tongue in a long, slow caress up her wounded arm, bathing the welts made by the hrakka in a single stroke.

“Oh!” Trin gasped. But it wasn’t just his gesture that surprised her—it was the cool tingling which immediately followed it—like a hundred tiny bubbles popping at the same time on her wounded skin.

Thrace stopped at once and released her.

“I’m sorry—did I hurt you?”

“No—it didn’t hurt, exactly.” Trin examined her arm. “It was more like a tingling sensation.”

“Did it work?” Thrace was staring at her arm too. As they watched, the long, red welts made by the cruel instrument of torture slowly began to heal. Trin gasped as she saw the red turn to white. After a moment the only thing left to show where the hrakka had marked her were four parallel scars, thin but visible white lines running up the smooth brown of her arm.

She looked up at Thrace.

“You healed me!”

“Not completely.” He frowned at the scars. “Let me try again.”

But though he licked her arm several more times, the scars didn’t fade.

At last, Trin drew back.

“I know the scars are ugly,” she said quietly. “But…well, at least it doesn’t hurt anymore. That’s wonderful.”

Thrace shook his head. “I just wish I could do more.”

“You can,” Trin said softly. “You can heal the rest of me…if you don’t mind.”

“Of course, I don’t mind. But…” He hesitated, frowning again.

“But what?” Trin asked softly.

“Well, those marks…they’re all over your body.” He gestured at the white shift dress which covered everything but her arms and her feet. “I mean, if I remember right, they’re everywhere. Are you going to be all right with me licking you every place you need to be healed?”

Trin bit her lip.

It’s wrong…letting a male do that to you, it’s wrong and you know it. The ugly, judgmental voice—a voice that sounded very like the high priestess’s—was whispering in her ear, making it hard to think, hard to be brave. But then she remembered the light in Nadiah’s true green eyes when the Goddess spoke through her and lifted the blood curse. Take a deep breath, Trin gathered her courage.

“I want you to do it,” she said firmly. “I want to be healed.”

“All right.” Thrace rose from the couch and held out a hand to her. “Let’s heal you, then.”

Biting her lip, Trin put her hand in his and let him lead her into the sleeping chamber.

* * * * *

Thrace couldn’t believe she was going to allow him to do this—that she was willingly going to let him lick every inch of her sweet body. After what she’d learned about how his old Master had treated him on Yonnie Six, he’d been afraid she would never want him to touch or taste her again.

Don’t get too excited, he told himself sternly. After all, it’s not like she’s here asking to renew our bond. She just doesn’t want to live the rest of her life in fucking agony—that’s all. After this is over, you’ll part for good and you know it. Didn’t she say you were nothing to each other? So don’t read anything into it and don’t try to make it last. Just do what has to be done and let her go.

Let her go forever.

But despite the warnings he tried to give himself, he couldn’t help the wave of love and devotion that washed over him when she lifted the white dress over her head and let it fall to the floor. She was so beautiful, so perfect even with the angry, red welts marking her skin. He wanted nothing more than to lavish her with kisses, to worship her body with his tongue, to heal her and make her whole…at least on the outside, which seemed to be all he could manage.

“Where…where do you want me?” Trin asked softly, lifting her chin. Thrace recognized the tremor in her voice and the steel in her eyes—she was trying to be brave. Trying to let him do this without losing her nerve.

“Sitting on the edge of the sleeping platform to start with,” he said gently. “We’ll go slow…as slow as you want.”

“All right.” She settled on the sleeping platform, making a soft noise of pain as the dark blue coverlet rubbed against the welts on her backside. Thrace made a mental note to attend to them soon but he wanted to start someplace safer first—someplace that wouldn’t make her feel threatened or uncomfortable.

Kneeling before her, he took her other arm, the one he hadn’t treated yet, and looked into her eyes.

“May I?”

“Please,” Trin breathed. “Yes, please do.”

Keeping his eyes locked with hers, Thrace licked her second arm as he had the first, dragging the flat of his tongue up and over her skin, erasing the red welts that marked her.

As before she stiffened and gasped but when he raised his eyebrows at her—a silent question—she shook her head.

“It doesn’t hurt. It just…tingles.”

Thrace nodded as he finished with her arm. Gods, her skin tasted sweet—salty and fresh and completely delicious. Completely Trin. He knew that even if he was destined never to see her again, her taste and the soft little gasps that came from her throat as he healed her would stay in his memory forever.

At last he leaned back and looked at her.

“Legs next?”

Trin twisted her fingers together in her lap nervously.

“…all right.”

He could hear the hesitation in her voice. No doubt all the horrible rhetoric which had been pounded into her head while she was a prisoner at the temple was still there, poisoning her thoughts and emotions. But she was trying her best to overcome it—trying to let him help her without feeling guilty or wrong.

“How about everything but your inner thighs?” he asked and saw the relief flit across her face.

“Yes.” She smiled gratefully. “Yes that would be…that would be good.”

Thrace nodded and encircled one delicate ankle with his fingers. Gods, whoever had done this to her had been really thorough. The red welts ran in unbroken parallel lines from the graceful curve of her arch all the way up her thighs. Probably that bitch of a high priestess! He felt a rush of rage and wished for a moment that he could hurt the evil female the same way she’d hurt Trin—that he could make her pay for the wrong she’d inflicted. But there was no time for anger now—it wouldn’t help Trin for him to get worked up. All he could do was try to help her.

Taking a deep breath, Thrace pushed the useless anger aside and tried to concentrate on Trin. He lifted her lower leg to his mouth and began to lick…began to heal the female he loved so desperately as best he could.

Trin gasped and then sighed as he made his way slowly and methodically up her leg. He could feel her trembling beneath his tongue as he sealed the welts, turning them into nothing but scars.

Thrace only wished he could do more. She was beautiful to him—always beautiful—but the scars marred her soft brown skin, making a permanent reminder of what she had endured on her home planet. He wished he could erase them for that reason if no other—he didn’t want her to look down at herself and remember what had been done to her every time she saw her arms or legs…

And speaking of her legs, he was finished with them now. All but the area around her inner thighs which he had carefully avoided. He sat back and looked up at her, considering what to do next.

Trin looked back at him and the red scratches on her face, four parallel lines on each cheek, caught his eye.

“My lady,” he murmured, falling into the old way of speech by force of habit. He rose slowly, so as not to startle her, and sat beside her on the bed. Very gently, he brushed just the tips of his fingers over her wounded flesh. “Your face…”

“Oh…” Trin put a hand to her hurt cheek and nodded. “Yes, she…she scratched me everywhere. She said she wanted…wanted to leave permanent scars—so everyone would know what I had done.”

“Baby…” Thrace felt a lump in his throat he couldn’t seem to swallow. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered. “This is my fault—all of it.”

“No, it’s not.” Trin looked up at him. “It’s mine—I went to the temple willingly, of my own volition. I thought I had to…thought I had to be punished.”

Thrace wanted to ask what she thought about it now but he didn’t dare. He was afraid she would say that she still felt the same way, that anything they did together was wrong and sinful—worthy of punishment and death.

Instead of speaking any more, he lifted her chin and looked into her eyes. Then he kissed her as gently as he could, stroking the parallel lines on her face tenderly—tracing them one by one with the tip of his tongue, trying to erase her hurt, to ease her pain and let her know how very much he still loved her.

* * * * *

“Oh, Thrace…” His name fell from Trin’s lips like a prayer as he kissed her. It amazed her, as always, that such a huge, muscular male could be so gentle…so tender. He handled her as though she was precious and valuable—someone cherished beyond what words could express or describe.

Before he had started this, she had warned herself that she shouldn’t get too carried away when he started healing her. After all, it was clear that he wanted to leave and she didn’t have the right to try and stop him. Not after the way she’d treated him. But she couldn’t help melting inside when he touched her like this…when he kissed her so tenderly.

“Thrace,” she whispered again and then somehow his mouth was covering hers, kissing her lips instead of her cheek. It reminded her of the first time he had kissed her—when they had been playing their roles at Dreaming Hills. But back then she’d been his Mistress and now she was…nothing.

I have no claim on him. Not anymore. I gave it up when I pushed him awaye…

The thought made her pull back from the kiss though it was the last thing she wanted to do.

Thrace didn’t try to stop her. Instead he leaned back a little and looked at her.

“Trin?” he murmured.

“I…” Trin wasn’t sure what to say. Her mouth still tingled from his warm, gentle kiss. She wanted desperately to lean forward and kiss him again, to take his mouth with hers and show him how she truly felt—but she didn’t dare.

Thrace seemed to understand her hesitation or at least, he didn’t push for an explanation.

“Your back was harmed too, wasn’t it?” he murmured.

“Yes.” Trin nodded, still twisting her fingers nervously in her lap. “Where…how…?”

“Lie face down on the bed,” he said softly. “I’ll tend to you.”

She nodded but didn’t move to do as he said.

“The welts…my back is especially bad. They…they’re very painful,” she whispered.

“Then I’ll be very, very careful.” He cupped her newly healed cheek in one big, warm hand and looked down into her eyes. “I’ll never hurt you, baby. You know that.”

Trin’s heart jumped at the use of his old, sweet nickname.

“I know,” she whispered. “I…I trust you, Thrace.”

“That’s good to know,” he rumbled softly. “Because after I finish your back I’ll have to go lower…if you still want me to.”

Trin’s breath caught in her throat. Though she had been healed and absolved by the Goddess, the teachings of her childhood were hard to overcome. Somewhere at the back of her head the mean, judgmental voice was still whispering shame and recrimination. She did her best to shut it off.

“I do want you to,” she said, lifting her chin. “Please. If…you don’t mind.”

“If I don’t mind?” He gave her a slow smile. “Baby, no matter what else is going on between us, you need to know that tasting and licking your sweet, soft body is still my favorite thing to do.”

“Oh…” Trin could feel the blood rushing to her face and suddenly she had to drop her eyes. His words brought back so many memories…memories of his hands and mouth exploring her…memories of the way he’d knelt between her legs and licked and sucked her pussy until she came and came…

Stop it, she told herself sternly. This is just about letting him heal you—that’s all. He’s probably still going to leave when it’s over. So don’t let yourself get too excited.

“Turn over,” Thrace murmured, stroking her cheek. “Turn over and let me heal you, baby.”

Trembling a little with nervous tension, Trin did as he said. Laying face down, she pillowed her head in her arms and closed her eyes, trying not to think…trying not to hope or to wish too much.

“That’s good…that’s just right, baby.”

Thrace got on the bed beside her and she could feel him bending over her, the warmth of his big body covering her like a blanket. She bit her lip but couldn’t stop the soft moan that came from her lips when he began healing her back with long, slow strokes of his tongue.

As she had told him, her back was the most painful area. The high priestess had dragged the hrakka from her shoulders to her lower back and then criss-crossed her own lines, leaving a hatch mark of stinging welts that burned when they were touched even lightly.

But Thrace’s mouth on her back didn’t hurt. Trin felt the by-now familiar tingling as his warm tongue stroked over her flesh, healing her wounds, making her whole again. The pain that had been tormenting her since the hrakka first clawed her tender skin at last disappeared completely. She gave a sign of relief and snuggled into the bed, flexing her back and lifting her hips in an unconscious gesture of relief.

Thrace, however, seemed to take a different meaning from her movements—or maybe he was simply ready to move lower.

“She hurt you here, too.” One big warm hand brushed lightly over Trin’s bare ass, making her gasp and jump.

“Yes…she did,” she admitted a bit breathlessly. “No…no place was spared.” When she turned her head, she saw him watching her.

“Can I heal you here?” he asked softly.

This time Trin felt no hesitation.

“Yes, she whispered. “Yes, please.”

“My pleasure, Mistress,” he growled softly and her heart jumped again.

“You don’t have to call me that anymore…you took off the collar,” she reminded him as he dragged his tongue over the rounded curve of her buttocks.

His eyes blazed as he licked her again. “I didn’t want to. And now I wish to show you how much I feel for you…how devoted I am.”

“And how…how do you want to show me that?” Trin whispered, still watching him as he finished healing her.

“First of all by healing all of you—your inner thighs too.” Thrace gave her a meaningful look and turned her over gently but firmly so that she was once more on her back. “Will you let me do that, Mistress? Will you allow me to heal you everywhere?”

Trin’s breath seemed to catch in her throat. Should she let him?

“Yes,” she said, not giving the mean little voice in the back of her head time to protest. “Yes, I…I want that.”

“That’s good, Mistress. Because I need to heal you now.”

Hooking his arms under her half-bent knees, Thrace dragged her to the end of the bed and sank down before her. Trin moaned as he split her wide, opening her thighs for him to expose the last of the cruel, red welts that had covered her skin.

“Oh, baby…” Thrace’s deep voice was sorrowful when he saw the evil marks of the hrakka. “This is…she really scratched you up bad. Even here.” One long finger touched briefly on Trin’s outer pussy lips and she jumped and moaned softly.

“Yes, I…I know,” she whispered. “Can…do you think you can heal me?”

“I know I can. Here more than anywhere else. And I’ll be gentle—I swear it.”

“I know you will,” Trin whispered. Daring greatly, she spread her thighs a little wider, even though the action opened her pussy lips as well. “Go on,” she breathed. “Heal me, Thrace.”

With a low groan that sounded suspiciously like her name, he leaned forward and dragged his hot, wet tongue gently over the tender flesh of her inner thighs.

Trin moaned breathlessly as he bathed her thighs with his tongue, lapping gently, tracing the cruel lines to make them disappear. She could feel the cool tingling, followed by a heat that seemed to consume her like a flame—a need that was growing inside her with each caressing stroke of his tongue.

Then Thrace looked up at her, his mouth hovering just above her bare pussy mound.

“Mistress,” he growled softly. “I need to heal you here too.”

“Just…just on the outside?” she asked, feeling like her heart was racing twice as fast as it should. “Only…only where I was scratched?”

“Only there,” he promised softly. “I swear it, Mistress.”

“Yes,” Trin whispered, not letting herself consider it any further. “Yes, do it…please.”

With a low growl, he bent his head and dragged the flat of his tongue over her outer pussy lips.

Goddess! Trin moaned and fisted her hands in the blue comforter on either side of her. His mouth on her felt so hot and wet and perfect—exactly as she remembered it and yet somehow, so much more intense. Maybe it was because the healing essence he was making was causing her to be more sensitive or maybe it was just that she wanted him so much she could barely hold still. But for whatever reason, her hips were suddenly thrusting all over the bed.

Thrace let her thrust but kept a firm grip on her thighs. He kept up his steady licking and lapping, first on one side of her outer pussy lips and then the other. But then Trin’s restless movements had an unexpected effect. When the big Havoc bent to drag the flat of his tongue from the bottom of one puffy outer lip to the top of her thigh, Trin’s motions made him miss. His tongue was already extended, ready to heal her in the only way he could. But instead of landing on her outer pussy, Trin’s movement pressed it right against her center.

Her pussy lips were already swollen and hot with need, parting on their own to show her berry-dark inner cunt, slick and hot with her honey, so there was nothing to stop him. Nothing to hold him back when his tongue at last connected with her bare inner folds and dragged up to her aching clit.

Thrace groaned low in his throat and Trin moaned breathlessly as his tongue made contact with her open pussy. For a moment they both froze. Clearly, though he couldn’t bear to do it himself, Thrace expected her to pull back. And indeed, the little voice in her head was shouting that she should pull back, that this was wrong.

Not wrong, Trin told it. Not wrong with the male I love!

With a soft moan, she pressed forward instead, grinding against his tongue, pressing her pussy to his mouth as she had the first time he tasted her back on Yonnie Six.

Her motions seemed to set off something inside of Thrace. With a low growl, he wrapped his arms around her thighs and surged forward, lashing her clit almost frantically with his tongue.

Trin cried out softly as his hot, wet mouth tortured her throbbing clit sweetly. She hadn’t known it up until now, but her body had been missing him—missing him terribly. Missing his warm, enveloping hugs, the strength of his hard body against hers, his dark, spicy scent…but most of all missing the pleasure he gave her when he touched her and tasted her in just the right way. As Thrace continued to bathe her clit with his tongue and lap her juices, she felt like a woman dying of thirst in the desert who has finally been given a drink of water.

Shamelessly, she wound her fingers through his hair and dragged him closer. The big Havoc came willingly, burying his face between her thighs, lapping and sucking…tracing her clit with the tip of his tongue one minute and then thrusting deep into her pussy the next to drink her honey right from the source.

It had been so long since she’d experienced pleasure instead of pain between her thighs that Trin felt herself hovering on the edge of coming almost at once. Her clit was throbbing from the way he traced it and her pussy got wetter and wetter as he licked her. But there was something she needed…something missing to push her over the edge…to finally make her come.

“Thrace!” she wailed, pulling his hair. “Thrace, I need…I need…I don’t know what I need!”

“I do.” Looking up briefly, he held up two fingers so that she could see them. “Is this what you want…what you need?”

It wasn’t exactly what she needed but Trin was still afraid to ask for that. She nodded her assent and thrust her hips towards him eagerly.

“Please,” she told him in a half-moan. “Please, yes…”

Thrace entered her smoothly with two long, thick fingers, driving to the end of her channel in one deep thrust.

Trin wailed with pleasure as she felt him pressed against the end of her channel. Then he sucked her clit into his mouth and began teasing it again as he fingerfucked her open pussy, making her moan and writhe all over the bed as her orgasm at last crashed over her.

Oh Goddess, too much…too good! The pleasure peaked inside her, made all the better by his deep penetration, though she couldn’t help wishing there was something thicker inside her.

Something more like his cock, you mean? whispered the judgmental little voice.

Yes, exactly…his shaft inside me, filling me, taking me…Trin thought, still delirious with lust. She was still riding the waves of pleasure and the mean little voice seemed much fainter while she was coming—almost as if it didn’t matter at all.

It shouldn’t matter, she told herself firmly. I should ignore it…banish it forever and never listen to it again! After all, I belong to the Kindred Goddess now—the Mother of All Life—and she approves of love between males and females. Why should I not give in and enjoy the pleasure of Thrace’s touch? The pleasure of letting him fill me…

As if reading her mind, Thrace finally stopped lapping and sucking and looked up from between her thighs.

“Gods, you taste so delicious,” he growled, licking his lips which were wet with her juices. “I could taste you all night, baby.”

“I’d like that,” Trin whispered breathlessly. “But I wish…wish we could do more than just tasting.”

His eyes blazed with interest. “And what exactly is it you want to do?”

“Well, I was thinking…” Trin blushed, unable to make herself go on. After a lifetime of being taught it was wrong to let a male penetrate her, how could she actually ask him to make love to her now? And how would he feel about it if she did ask?

Thrace got up and came to sit beside her on the bed.

“Hey,” he murmured, putting an arm around her. “Do you remember what I told you about how the medicine Commander Sylvan gave me was best for bonded couples?”

“Yes…and?” Trin looked up at him, wondering where he was going with this.

“And so I was thinking, maybe if we renewed our bond it might be more effective. I mean, I don’t know for sure but it might help.”

“Renew our bond? How?” Trin’s breathing was coming faster again and she was very aware of his big, warm body so close to her smaller, naked one.

“The same way we bonded in the first place,” he murmured.

“You mean…” Her heart started to pound. “By letting you penetrate me?”

Slowly, he nodded. “Of course, I know how upset you were last time when we were suddenly in each other’s heads. But if you didn’t like it when we were finished, you could always block me again.”

“I seem to be good at that, don’t I?” Trin asked softly. “It’s the unblocking I have no idea about.”

“Well, this is the way to do it…if you want to.” He cupped her cheek in one hand and looked into her eyes. “If you want to let me in.”

Trin knew he was talking about more than just letting him into her body…his whole heart was in his eyes when he spoke. She knew the courage it must have taken to lay himself bare to her when she had already rejected him once, back when he first came for her at the temple.

She bit her lip, considering…should she do this? Before she’d had no choice in the matter—it was let Thrace penetrate her or die of the passion berry wine. But if she did this now it would be absolutely voluntary and deliberate on her part. She would be asking a male to penetrate her—to fill her with his shaft and thrust deep in her pussy until he bathed her inner cunt with his seed. After everything she’d endured for partaking in this act once, was she really ready to do it again?

Disgusting…a disgrace…blasphemer…sacrilege! howled the voice of guilt inside her. For a moment Trin wanted to shrink away from Thrace’s touch…to go hide and keep her shameful urges to herself.

But then Nadiah’s words came back to her, whispering like the fresh, clean smelling breeze that had blown through the trees of the Sacred Grove. “The Goddess approves of love between those she has brought together,” she had said. And hadn’t she clearly brought Trin and Thrace together? They came from two races which did not mix with the opposite sex if at all possible and yet…she loved him as she had never loved anyone else. And the look in his silver-blue eyes spoke of the feelings he had for her as well.

How else could they have come together except by divine intervention? And why else would the Goddess lift the blood curse and send Trin to Thrace to be cured of her wounds if she didn’t intend for them to stay together?

I love him, Trin thought. And being with him…bonding with him is the best way to show it.

She still wasn’t completely sure he would stay, even if they did renew their bond. He had talked about packing and going after she was healed and had also pointed out that she could block him again if she wanted to. So maybe he was just offering to try once more to heal her before he left…

“Sorry.” Thrace’s deep voice broke her train of thought. “I shouldn’t have suggested it. Should’ve known how you’d feel about letting me do that to you again after what you learned about my past.”

“Thrace, no…” Clearly he’d misinterpreted her lengthy silence. “Why would you say that?” she asked softly.

“You saw what happened with my old Master—saw it in that fucking dream.” He sighed. “I thought that was one reason you were pushing me away.”

“I was pushing you away because of the blood curse the high priestess laid on me—not because of your past,” Trin assured him. “It’s a death sentence and I didn’t want to drag you down with me.”

“A death sentence?” His black brows raised in surprised concern. “What are you talking about?”

“It was killing me,” Trin said softly. “It saps your will to live—makes you just want to lay down and die. That’s…” She took a deep breath. “That’s what I’ve been doing these past few weeks. Dying.”

“What?” He took her by the shoulders and looked into her face anxiously. “Baby, is there anything I can do? We have to get you help—have to lift the curse somehow!”

“It’s already been lifted,” Trin assured him quickly. “In the Sacred Grove. I’m okay now. It’s why I finally dared to come and see you.” She looked at him earnestly. “I wanted to say how sorry I was for pushing you away. But I did it for your own good—I was afraid if I died and our bond was strong, I’d take you with me.”

“Baby…” He stroked her cheek, looking into her eyes. “Don’t you know I’d rather die with you than live a single day without you?”

“Don’t, Thrace.” Trin shook her head and looked away from his intense, silver-blue gaze. “I don’t deserve that from you. Not after all I put you through—not after the way I pushed you away.”

“You were doing what you thought you had to do,” he rumbled. “I just misinterpreted it. I thought after you saw my past…”

“That never had anything to do with it,” Trin assured him. “I think it’s horrible what happened to you, but it doesn’t affect how I feel about you. I hope…” She looked down. “I hope you won’t let what I allowed to happen to me at the temple affect how you feel about me either.”

“You might have gone there of your own free will in the first place but you’re not to blame for what they did when you got there,” Thrace growled. “That whole place is completely fucked up—especially the female who runs it!”

“Betina…” Trin sighed. “She truly made me believe I deserved everything that was done to me—even…” She swallowed hard. “Even what happened to Swift and Silk. Not to mention my skin…my hair…” She put a hand to her head. Becca had done her best to trim it into a more attractive shape but it was still much shorter than Trin liked.

“Your hair will grow back,” Thrace said firmly. “Or you could keep it short—makes it easier for me to see your gorgeous face.”

“Not so gorgeous anymore…” Trin put her fingers to one scarred cheek.

“Yes.” Thrace took her hand in his and kissed her palm gently. “Still gorgeous. Still beautiful—always beautiful to me, baby.”

Trin gave him a tremulous smile. “That’s how I feel about you, you know. You’re still the same male I came to care for so deeply and your past doesn’t change that. And it also doesn’t change my desire…” She cleared her throat, feeling the hot blood rush to her cheeks. “My desire to…to give myself to you.”

The pain on his strong features cleared.

“So you want to try it then? Renewing our bond?”

“More than anything,” Trin said softly. “But, well…I don’t really know how to begin.”

“I think I can help with that,” Thrace murmured, pulling her close. He took her mouth in a long, lingering kiss and Trin moaned as his tongue slipped gently between her lips. Goddess, she could taste herself on him! Taste her own secret, feminine flavor still clinging to his lips and it made her hotter than she would have thought possible.

“Thrace,” she whispered softly when the kiss finally broke. “Goddess, I want you so much.”

“How do you want me, Mistress?”

“I’m not really sure,” Trin confessed.

“Well, how about this…” He stroked her cheek. “Last time I was in charge—I had to be since you were drugged out of your mind on the third drink of passion berry wine. How about if this time, you call the shots?”

“How do I do that?” Trin asked.

“You be in charge—take control.” He spread his arms. “Do whatever you want with me.”

Trin bit her lip. “And…you don’t mind? I mean after…” She didn’t want to bring up his past again since he was obviously so sensitive about it, but she also didn’t want to bring back any bad memories as she had when she had almost penetrated him with the heart stone phallus on Yonnie Six.

“I know what you’re asking but no, I don’t mind,” Thrace rumbled. “You’re nothing like my old master was—he tried to force my love. You won my heart without even trying—just by being you.”

“Oh, Thrace…” Trin didn’t know what to say.

“It will be a pleasure to serve you, Mistress.” He gave her a lazy grin. “In any way you desire.”

“Well, then…” Trin eyed him, considering her options. “For starters, I think you have too many clothes on,” she pronounced.

“You want me to disrobe, my lady?” he murmured, his fingers going to the buttons of his deep red shirt.

“No. I want to do it.” Getting up on her knees, Trin pushed his hands aside and began unbuttoning the shirt herself, just as she’d wanted to earlier. She couldn’t stop the desire that rose in her as his broad, muscular chest was revealed.

“Gods, I love your little hands on me,” he growled hoarsely as she finished unbuttoning the shirt and tugged it out of his waistband. “Love how soft they are and the contrast of our skin.”

Trin liked it too and she also liked the feeling that she was allowed to do anything she wanted with him. She was used to being in charge as a captain of a ship but she’d never taken sexual charge in the bedroom before. And the fact that Thrace was such a big, powerful male who was completely under her control, ready to do anything she asked of him, made her feel safe and sexy and confident in a way she never had before.

As she pulled the shirt off his broad shoulders, his warm spicy scent filled her senses, making her long to bury her face in his neck and breathe him in. Well, aren’t you in charge? whispered a little voice in her head. Why shouldn’t you? Do what you want—whatever feels good.

“I love the way you smell!” she murmured, pressing her face to his strong throat and taking a deep breath. “Is that your bonding scent again?”

“Sure as hell is, baby,” he murmured. “I’ve never wanted anything so badly in my life as to bond you to me.”

“A bond is forever though, right?” Trin risked a glance at him.

“It can be.” His voice was low and guarded. “If you want it to be.”

I want it to be! The words hovered on her lips but she lacked the courage to let them slip out. Instead, she leaned forward and licked a long line from his collar bone to just under his ear.

Thrace groaned deep in his throat and shivered under her oral assault.

“Gods, baby—you don’t know what that does to me!”

“I know what it does to me,” Trin told him. “You were driving me crazy the whole time you were healing me.”

“You like my tongue on your body? Between your legs?” His eyes were blazing but his voice was a soft, lazy drawl.

“You know I do.” Trin was tugging at his trousers now. She’d gotten his belt unbuckled but the front fastening of the black leather pants was eluding her. Frustrated, she gave up trying to pop the trousers open and simply slipped her hand inside instead.

“Gods.” Thrace stiffened when she grasped his rock hard shaft in her hand. Trin enjoyed the sensation of power it gave her to caress his long, thick cock and feel it throb in her palm as she wrapped her fingers around it and stroked. His skin was surprisingly soft and hot, and she loved the feel of him thrusting against her hand.

“Easy, baby,” Thrace groaned as she continued to stroke him. “You keep that up and you’ll make me come in my trousers instead…”

“Instead of inside me, where you belong,” Trin finished for him, smiling a little.

“Exactly,” he growled. “Which is where I want to be—where I need to be. But not until you’re ready.”

Trin could feel how wet and hot her pussy was getting and she knew she was already ready—but she wanted to explore him a little more first. She’d always felt guilty about wanting to touch his big, muscular body before but now she intended to throw caution to the winds and do whatever she wanted.

“First let’s get these off,” she murmured, tugging at his trousers again. Thrace helped her and soon he was as naked as she was, sitting on the edge of the bed with his legs spread and his hard shaft rising from between his thighs.

Trin got off the bed and sat between his legs as he had when he pleasured her with his tongue earlier.

“Mistress?” Thrace was clearly surprised by her actions.

“I want to touch you and learn you,” Trin explained a little shyly. “I…I was never able to before but now…I want to know you the way you know me. I want to taste you. Is that all right?”

He groaned low in his throat. “Gods, to hear you talk like that…hell yes, it’s all right!” He gave her another lazy smile. “You’re in charge here, Mistress—do whatever pleases you.”

Trin returned his smile and then pressed closer, getting between his thighs so she could grasp the hot, hard shaft in her hand again.

He was so long and thick there was no way she could wrap her fingers all the way around him but she delighted in trying. She also took pleasure in the low moans that came from his broad chest when she stroked the petal-soft skin of his shaft up and down in a slow, leisurely pumping motion. How could he be so hard and so silky soft at the same time—like a bar of hot iron covered in velvet? It was a mystery she longed to solve.

Experimentally, she leaned forward and rubbed her cheek against his shaft. His bonding scent was strong here—dark and spicy and entirely masculine. It filled her senses and made her want him even more—made her feel like she would die if she didn’t have him in her soon. But there was still one more thing she wanted to try before she was ready to make love.

The thick shaft of his cock ended in a broad, flaring head with a small slit at its crown. That’s where it comes from—his seed, Trin thought. When he fills me with himself and pumps me full of his cum. The thought gave her a deep, pulling ache in her lower pelvis—the desire to be filled completely by her man. First, though, she wanted to taste him as he had tasted her.

There was a small pearly droplet at the small slit in the head of his cock. Trin put out her tongue and lapped it up. It was salty and delicious and it tasted like his bonding scent smelled—she loved it. And she wanted more.

Thrace jerked a little and moaned her name as she dared to take the entire broad plum-shaped head between her lips. He was too big to get much more into her mouth but Trin didn’t mind. She liked the sensation of being filled by him, even in this manner which her people would have considered especially degrading.

But nothing is wrong or degrading when done by people who truly love each other, she told herself firmly. And this feels good—feels right. I love him and I want to show him how much.

Pulling back, she started at the base of his cock and dragged her tongue upwards, caressing his throbbing length, tasting the salty essence of his manhood and loving every second of it.

“Gods…baby…Mistress…” Thrace’s hands were fisted on his thighs and she could feel the tension in his big body as he fought to hold still while she tasted him. When she looked up, she saw that his silver-blue eyes were half-lidded with lust and trained on her with a focused intensity that made her pussy throb with need.

“Does it feel good?” Trin asked, delighting in teasing him a little. “Do you like to watch while I taste you?”

“Couldn’t stop watching if I knew it’d make me go blind,” he rumbled. “You don’t know what you do to me!”

“I know what I want to do.” Deliberately, she took another long, slow taste of his hard shaft, holding his eyes with hers the entire time. “I want to push you down on the bed and ride you—the way you had me ride you when you saved me from the passion berry wine.”

Thrace groaned again.

“Yes, Mistress—your will is my pleasure.”

“Good, then lay on the bed on your back,” Trin directed.

Thrace did as she directed, lying in the center of the bed with his legs spread.

“Now what?” he murmured.

“Now this.” Trin got on the bed beside him and straddled his lean hips, opening her legs wide to do so. Thrace watched her every move, his eyes hungry and hot.

“Gods, look how hot and wet your little pussy is, Mistress,” he murmured. “Can’t wait to feel you sinking down on me. Do you feel ready?”

“More ready than I’ve ever been for anything in my life,” Trin assured him. His large size might have worried her but he’d done a good job preparing her to take him—licking and tasting her so thoroughly before they began. She knew that though it might be a tight fit, it wouldn’t hurt her to have her pussy stretched by his thick shaft.

Still, when she grasped his shaft and rubbed the broad head of his cock against her slick inner petals, she couldn’t help feeling just a little shiver of uncertainty. The last time they’d done this, she was half out of her mind with lust from the passion berry wine. This time it was a conscious decision on her part and she was much more aware of what was going to happen—what they were about to do.

Look at you with your legs spread wide for his big shaft, rubbing the head against your bare, open pussy! Can’t believe you’re going to willingly spread your cunt for him and let him in…let him all the way inside you to thrust and fuck and fill you with his cum…

Trin barely heard the guilty little voice anymore. She was too focused on fitting the wide head of his cock to the entrance of her pussy. He was wet and slick with her juices and she could feel her clit throbbing from the way his bare skin rubbed against hers.

Goddess…feels so good…need him so much…

Slowly, she began to slide him into her pussy.

Thrace held perfectly still while she did it—seeming to know she needed to take him in at her own pace. Trin was grateful for that. She liked being in charge this time—it felt good and empowering to choose exactly how fast and how deep she took him…though of course what she wanted was to take him all the way.

When she felt him breach her entrance and the broad head slid into her, she moaned breathlessly.

“Gods, look at that…love to see me going into you,” Thrace said hoarsely. “Love to see your pussy wrapped around my cock.”

“I love it too,” Trin admitted. “But I want more.”

Lowering herself further, she let another thick inch slip up into her pussy. She was tight inside and he was so big but she could feel her inner walls stretching to accommodate him.

“Slowly, baby,” Thrace cautioned. “Don’t hurt yourself.”

“I won’t…” Trin relaxed a little more, letting over half of his thick cock slide inside her. “Just want to feel you…all the way…inside me.” As she said the last words, she let herself all the way down, taking the rest of his long shaft all the way into her pussy.

Both of them groaned when he bottomed out inside her, the wide head of his cock kissing the mouth of her womb.

“Gods, you look so good on top of me, Mistress!” Thrace groaned. “Look between your legs and see how hot it is—my cock all the way inside you to the root.”

Trin looked down as he said and thought it was the most erotic sight she’d ever seen—the thick shaft buried so deep in her little cunt which was stretched wide to accommodate him.

Wrong, whispered the little voice. Bad! Look at you—all spread out around him! Why he’s probably leaking precum deep inside your pussy right now! It’s wrong and it’s not safe—you don’t even have any kind of contraception.

Trin knew the thought should bother her but at the moment it seemed like a remote possibility—a problem she could deal with later. Besides, she kind of liked the idea of taking a risk with Thrace, as irresponsible as that might sound. It made her even hotter, knowing that his bare cock was filling her unprotected pussy, knowing that he would spurt his seed deep in her fertile cunt and she had no choice but to spread her legs wider and take it.

“Mmm, baby,” Thrace murmured, breaking into her illicit thoughts. “You feel ready to move now? Or do you need a little more time to get adjusted?”

“I…I think I’m ready.” Experimentally, Trin raised herself up so that several inches of his thick cock slid out of her pussy. Then she lowered herself back down, moaning as she felt him thrust up hard inside her again. “Oh…” she gasped.

“That’s right, baby…” Thrace was still lying still though she could feel the tension in every part of his big body as she braced herself on his broad chest and continued to rise and fall. “That’s right—fuck yourself on me…fuck your sweet pussy on my cock. Take me as deep as you can so I can come inside you.”

“That…that’s what I want,” Trin assured him breathlessly. “But Thrace, I need…need more. Need your help.”

“Like this you mean, baby?” Gripping her hips in his big hands, he drew back until only the head of his cock was inside her and thrust back firmly.

“Yes—yes, please!” Trin begged softly. “Oh Goddess, Thrace please!”

“You like to feel my cock inside you?” he growled, picking up the pace some. “Like to feel me filling you up?”

“I do!” she admitted, her voice almost a wail. “Part of me still thinks I shouldn’t but it feels so good, so right.”

“Feels right to me too, baby,” he groaned. “Feels like I belong in you…like you were meant for me. Like we were meant for each other.”

“I…I feel the same way,” Trin admitted, gasping a little for breath. Already she could feel the wave of pleasure building inside her again, rising like a tidal wave over her head, ready to crash down and fill her to overflowing with intense sensations. She just needed a little something more to help send her over the edge…

Without thinking about it, she let her fingers drift down to caress her wet, open folds. But before she could really get started, Thrace’s big hand was pushing hers aside.

“Let me, Mistress,” he growled. “Let me pleasure you while I fill you up.”

Trin moaned as she felt the broad pad of his thumb begin to circle the throbbing bud of her clit. Goddess, how did he know just how to touch her to make her hot? How did he know just how to make her come?

“You like that, baby?” he asked softly, rubbing lightly around her swollen clit. “Feels good when I pet your sweet little pussy while we fuck?”

“Yes…yes,” Trin admitted, unable to help herself. Her hips were rolling in time with his now, catching his rhythm as he thrust into her, helping his shaft get even deeper into her pussy with each stroke. The pleasure inside her was growing exponentially and she knew she couldn’t hold out much longer. “Thrace…” she gasped, rocking against him. “Going to…going to come soon. Can’t help it.”

“Don’t want you to help it, baby,” he growled, his eyes flashing. “Want to feel that sweet, soft little cunt of yours clenching all around me when you come…want to feel you sucking the seed right out of me when you finally let go.”

“I…I want that too. I want your seed in me—want you to fill me up,” Trin admitted in a low, breathless voice.

A part of her still whispered that it was wrong to want this—wrong to take a male deep in her body and then beg him to fill her with his cum. But Trin was past caring, past listening to the voice of her guilt ever again. She needed Thrace inside her—needed it like she needed her next breath of air—and there was no better way to show him how she felt, how much she loved him, than to accept everything he had to give.

His eyes were half-lidded with lust as he thrust up into her.

“You want to feel me coming in you, Mistress? Want me to shoot my seed deep in your pussy?” he growled.

“Yes, Goddess, yes!” Trin begged. And at that moment, the wave of pleasure that had been building suddenly crashed over her, making her cry out and clench tight around him. She gasped, her nipples tightening to hard little points, her pussy throbbing hard around him. Coming…oh Goddess, coming so hard…

Thrace allowed her orgasm to trigger his own. With a low groan, he gripped her hips and thrust in deep—so deep it was as though he was trying to find her heart with each stroke. Trin felt him swell even thicker for a moment and she wondered how she could stand it. Goddess, so big inside me! Then he was pulsing inside her, filling her open pussy with spurt after spurt of his seed, marking her as his, tying them together forever as they renewed their bond at last.

“Gods, baby, love you…love you so damn much,” she heard him send through their newly re-forged link.

“I love you too!” she sent back without hesitation. And then fatigue overwhelmed her and she let herself collapse on his chest.

* * * * *

Trin lay on top of him, her breathing short and ragged. There was a light sheen of sweat on her creamy brown skin and his as well—they had been working hard, earning their pleasure. And their bond had been renewed. Thrace could feel her in the back of his head as light and soft as the fluttering of bird’s wings. It filled him with joy he could barely contain but at the moment, he was almost as tired as she was.

Trin shifted against him and settled again. Thrace was still halfway inside her and she was making soft little sounds as she rested against his chest.

“Baby? You okay?”

“There’s just one thing that bothers me.” Her voice was muffled against his chest.

“What is it?” Thrace asked gently. “What’s wrong?”

“Well, the slaver told me when I bought you that Havoc don’t bond because it cuts their lifespan in half. Did I just steal half your life?”

“No, of course not!” Thrace murmured. “You only shortened it a little and you lengthened your own life considerably. Your lifespan and mine will average out so that we both live much longer than average lives.”

“Oh, Thrace, I can’t believe you’d give up so much for me!” She sounded so upset he began to get concerned.

“Don’t worry, baby,” he murmured. “I’d rather spend a single solar month with you than five hundred cycles with anyone else. Now that our bond is strong and open to communication, I’m not worried about it—you shouldn’t be either.”

“I can’t help it.” She pressed closer to his chest as though she never wanted to let anything come between them. Thrace felt the same way but he could feel her anxiety through their newly re-forged link which made him worry about her.

“Baby…” He brushed her long hair out of the way so he could see her face, see if she was really upset…and froze.

“Trin,” he said softly. “Your face…”

“What? What’s wrong with my face?” She looked up at him, putting a hand to her cheek.

“Not just your face—your arm too…and your hair.” He stared at her with wonder. How could he have missed it before?

“What? What are you talking about?” She sat all the way up. His half hard shaft slipped from her but Thrace barely noticed.

“Go look—look in the viewer,” he urged her.

There was one hanging just inside the fresher door. Trin hurried to get there and he followed at a more leisurely pace, wanting to see her reaction.

She stood just inside the doorway staring at herself in the silvery, reflective surface of the viewer with wide, surprised eyes.

“The scars,” she whispered, touching her cheeks and arms as though she couldn’t believe it. “They’re gone. And my hair—it’s long again. Like it was before that horrible Betina made me chop it off!”

“The bonding worked,” Thrace murmured, coming to stand behind her and putting his hands on her shoulders.

“It’s not just the bonding—that doesn’t explain my hair.” She put up a hand to touch her long, silky black locks. “The Goddess did this, Thrace—the Goddess of the Kindred. You know…” She looked up at him, suddenly shy. “I didn’t get a chance to tell you but when I went to the Sacred Grove, I spoke to one of their priestesses—one called Nadiah. And…I know this sounds strange, but the Goddess spoke through her to me.”

“Not nearly as strange as hearing her speak to you right from the empty air,” Thrace rumbled.

Trin’s eyes widened. “The Goddess spoke to you too?”

He nodded. “After you left me on Yonnie Six. She said I would have help finding you—that was right before Stavros and Charlotte and Rebecca and her two mates showed up.” He frowned.

“What is it?” Trin asked, looking at his eyes in the viewer. “Did she say something else?”

Thrace nodded. “She did—I’d forgotten about it until now. She, uh, wasn’t too happy that I let Two live.”

“She wasn’t?” Trin raised her eyebrows. “What did she want you to do about it?”

“Nothing—she just said there would be problems in the future because I hadn’t killed him.”

“What kind of problems?” Trin asked, clearly worried.

Thrace shook his head. “Don’t know. Although…” He furrowed his brow, thinking hard. “Two did show me something—some kind of a vision about a female with two faces…it was strange. He said he’d put a contract out on her—set one of the Verrak on her trail.”

“The who?”

“Verrak. It’s an elite brotherhood of assassins—the most expensive and reliable in a thousand galaxies. They’re absolutely deadly because they take a vow when they accept a job—if their target doesn’t die, they’ll kill themselves. Makes for a hell of a motivator, you know?”

“Ugh—that’s awful.” Trin shivered. “But why would he show you something like that?”

“I think he just wanted to gloat. He said something about how her child would be the mother of a new race, part Havoc, part Kindred.”

“Part Havoc?” Trin raised an eyebrow. “And who exactly is going to be the father of this new race?”

“Well…” Thrace cleared his throat a bit uncomfortably. “According to Two and the Seeing that B’Rugh did for him, that would be our son—the child you and I are going to have at some point.”

“Our what?” Trin stared at him with an unreadable look on her face.

“Our son,” he repeated. “That’s why Two was trying to tear us apart—so we would never have a baby. Does the idea still bother you?”

Trin bit her lip.

“Only…only because I know Havoc don’t usually raise their young. Doesn’t your race leave and come back when your sons are six cycles old or so?”

“Trin…” He looked at her seriously. “It won’t be like that for us. I swear—I’ll never abandon you. You own me—remember?”

She smiled and he felt her relief coming through their renewed link.

“Of course—how could I forget?” She nuzzled against him, smiling at him in the viewer. “As long as you’re with me, I’ll be overjoyed to have our child.”

“Baby…” No longer content with looking at her in the mirror, Thrace turned her around and cupped her sweet face between his hands. “You don’t know how it makes me feel to hear you say that. I love you so damn much.”

“I do know how it makes you feel—I can sense it through our bond.” She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him on the mouth. “And I love you too,” she sent through the connection they now shared. The connection Thrace knew would last a lifetime.

Chapter Forty

“We’ve sent scouts to Yonnie Six but there’s no sign of Two or of Lord X.” Commander Sylvan told Trin and Thrace a few days later as they sat with some friends in his living area. “Six, the former Dark Kindred warrior who now lives among us, speculated that they might have gone to a secret lab he knew of—one of Two’s old hiding places. He went to check it out although Mei-Li, his Earth bride, was very much against it.”

“She’s pregnant so she couldn’t go with him,” Becca, who was there with Far and Truth said.

“What did Six find out?” Stavros asked.

“We don’t know yet—he is supposed to report in to us at any time.” Sylvan sighed and looked at Thrace. “Can you remember anything else about the vision he showed you? It must be important if the information was given to him in a Seeing.”

Thrace shrugged unhappily. “I’ve told you every detail I could remember. I believe the girl resides on Earth but what part of it, I don’t know. I do know the younglings in her care called her ‘Brooks’ but I wasn’t sure if it was a name or a title of respect.”

“It’s a fairly common last name,” Charlie, who was also there with Stavros said.

“She may be dead by now if Two set a member of the Verrak on her,” her mate said soberly. “They are utterly relentless.”

“Because they take a vow to kill their target or kill themselves if they fail,” Truth pointed out. “Anyone who took such a vow would be relentless—if they wanted to live.”

“I don’t get it,” Charlie said, frowning. “Are these Verrak a race of alien assassins from some horrible planet where everyone is trained to kill from birth or something?”

“Nothing so clear cut as that,” Far answered. “Or they would be much easier to spot. In fact, anyone, male or female, regardless of race or species may choose to join—if they make it through the rigorous training process.”

“What happens if they don’t?” Becca asked.

“I bet I know.” Charlie drew a finger across her throat meaningfully.

“Yes, the penalty for failing the process at any point is death. As is the penalty for failure to assassinate a chosen target,” Far said. “In fact, some say that only those who wish to die would join the Verrak in the first place. They are warriors looking for a death worthy of them—whether by their own hand or another’s.” He frowned. “They usually take only the most dangerous targets. I wonder what it is about this female that enticed a Verrak to take her contract?”

“Maybe she’s special in some way,” Becca said. “You know, other than the whole, mother-of-the-new race kind of thing. What would be the benefits of a Havoc/Human/Kindred race anyway?”

“Longevity for one,” Sylvan said thoughtfully. “The Havoc live much longer than we Kindred do. And they can pass their prolonged life on to their mates.”

“But the Kindred are willing to bond with their mates and form a permanent union,” Thrace pointed out. “That’s not usual in my people at all—although it might be if they knew what they were missing.” He looked at Trin and winked. She blushed and nudged his shoulder with her own.

“Adding the Kindred back into the mix might also enable dream sharing again which makes finding the right mate much easier,” Far said.

“But…what do humans bring to the party?” Charlie asked. “We’re not big or strong or long-lived compared to either the Havoc or the Kindred.”

“No, but your DNA meshes better with ours than any other trade partner we’ve ever found,” Sylvan said seriously. “Adding human genetic material will enable the other good traits to breed true and produce exceptionally healthy children.”

“What it boils down to is we have to find that poor girl Two put a hit on,” Charlie exclaimed. “After all, she might not be dead yet and it sounds like she’s pretty important to the future of the Kindred race—if this Seeing is anything to go by.”

“It is,” Thrace assured her gravely. “The Lud’oms are able to See only three times in their lives but their Seeings are incredibly accurate and very detailed. I’m inclined to believe Two was telling the truth in his own twisted way.”

“Then we have to find her—but how?” Becca asked. “I mean, it sounds like she was some kind of an elementary school teacher but we can’t go checking every single school on Earth!”

Charlie sighed. “If only we knew the name of it…”

“Wait…” Thrace sat up straighter in his chair. “There was some kind of lettering on the wall of the place she was in. I couldn’t read it because it was in a tongue I didn’t know—or one I couldn’t read, anyway though I understood her speech well enough.”

“It’s the same with Kindred,” Far said. “We pick up new languages almost immediately but it takes a bit of study to get the written part of any new tongue down pat.”

“What if there was a way to see the words?”

The new voice, coming from the doorway that led to Sylvan’s sleeping chamber belonged to his mate, Sophia. She had been putting their twins down for a nap when the meeting started.

“What way, talana?” Sylvan asked.

“Nadiah of course. She’s right here in the next room—lying down with Kara and Kaleb. She can see into Thrace’s memories and read the words. Of course…” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Any priestess could do it but Nadiah is much less invasive. And she knows every language in the universe because she’s the Mouthpiece of the Goddess.”

“A very good thought.” Sylvan drew her close and kissed her affectionately. “Would you get Nadiah for us now?” He looked at Thrace. “That is, if you’ll agree to the process?”

Thrace shifted uncomfortably.

“Would she only look at one specific memory? Or would she have to scan everything in my past?”

“You don’t have to worry about Nadiah—she’s wonderful.” Trin pressed his hand gently. “She won’t look at anything you don’t want her to.”

“Well…” Thrace hesitated but at last nodded. “All right. I’ll do it.”

“I’ll get her.” Sophia went back into the sleeping chamber and came back a moment later with the blonde haired priestess who looked sleepy and tousled.

“Sorry…” She yawned. “I was trying to get Kara and Kaleb down for their nap and I sort of fell asleep myself in the process.”

“That’s quite all right, Nadiah.” Sylvan smiled. “You know Sophia and I appreciate the help.”

“I’m happy to help while I can…but you know I have to leave soon. Rast misses me and I’m lost without him, too. My mate,” she explained to Trin who looked at her quizzically. “He can’t leave First World so he’s managing without me while I visit the Mother Ship and snuggle with Kara and Kaleb.”

“You’re wonderful with the twins but right now we need a different kind of help from you,” Sylvan said. “We need the Mouthpiece of the Goddess.” Rapidly, he outlined what was going on and what they needed to see. When he was finished, Nadiah looked very grave indeed.

“The Goddess has shown me something about this—about a girl who will be very important to the Kindred race’s future. I couldn’t see much about her except that she’s not at all what she seems. Though I don’t think even she knows that. And now you say she’s been targeted for assassination?”

“I’m afraid so—Two put a member of the Verrak on her trail and Thrace saw him watching her in his vision,” Sylvan said. “But he also saw some lettering on the building. We thought it might help us find her—hopefully before it’s too late.”

“So you need me to look into his memories?” Nadiah walked over to where Thrace was sitting and held out a hand in greeting.

Hesitantly, he took it.

Nadiah smiled at him warmly.

“Hello—you must be the male Trin fell in love with.” She smiled at Trin. “And I see you’re now healed outside as well as inside.”

“I am.” Trin smiled at her. “Thanks to you and the Goddess.”

“I knew she brought you two to the Mother Ship for a reason.” Nadiah pulled her hand from Thrace’s and looked at Sylvan. “I’ve got it. She’s full figured with brownish blonde hair and blue eyes.” She frowned. “For a moment I thought I saw something else though—some change in her that was hard to define…”

“What?” Thrace was genuinely startled. “That’s exactly what she looked like and I saw the change too. But how did you know all that I saw? I never felt a thing.”

“Told you she was unobtrusive,” Sophia remarked, smiling. “She’s absolutely the best—take it from someone who’s had other people in their head rifling through their memories more than once.” She shivered. “With anyone else, it’s a horrible experience. With Nadiah—you don’t even notice it.”

“So where is the girl? Did you get the name?” Charlie asked, leaning forward.

Nadiah frowned. “The writing on the wall that Thrace saw said ‘George Washington Elementary.’ Does that mean anything to you?”

Becca groaned. “He was the first president of our country. There must be a million elementary schools named after him!”

“Still, we at least know she’s in the US,” Charlie said thoughtfully. “That narrows it down some.”

“We need to do a search of elementary schools with that name with a teacher that has the last name of Brooks,” Sylvan said. “We need to find her!”

“I’ll attend to it.” Far was already standing. “I’ll go to the main communications desk and run a comprehensive search.”

“Do that,” Sylvan said, nodding. “And while you’re at it—”

He was interrupted by a buzzing from the large viewscreen on the wall.

“Answer it quick!” Sophia exclaimed. “It’ll wake up the twins!”

“Allow call,” Sylvan said. At once an image of Six popped up on the screen.

“Oh good,” Sophie murmured. “Somebody bespeak Mei-Li and tell her that her man is fine. She was so worried she had to lay down with a headache.”

“On it.” Becca was already reaching for the thin silver wire of a Think-me in order to communicate with their friend.

Sylvan also seemed pleased. “Six, good. I asked the communications officers to patch you directly through when you called. What have you found?”

“Destruction and death.” Six sounded sober. “The lab is where Two modified all of his sniffers—canine-like creatures who were able to scent emotions. He always kept it in immaculate condition but now, well…see for yourself, Commander.”

He panned the hand-held camera across the lab showing broken glass and twisted metal along with some suspicious looking brownish-red stains.

“Is that blood?” Sylvan asked, frowning at the screen.

“It appears to be. But there is more—look.”

Six walked to a different part of the lab, his boots crunching on the scattered glass fragments. He came to a stop in front of two huge cylinders which had been broken open, though one was still half filled with greenish goo.

But it was what the cylinders contained that caught Thrace’s eye—two twisted forms, both of them clearly dead, were lying locked together, half-in, half-out of the shattered containers.

“Is that…Two?” Thrace asked.

Six nodded. “He looks much changed but yes, I believe it is him. The teeth are unmistakable.”

Two had died with a look of agony on his face—his thin lips were peeled back in a snarl that revealed his steel teeth. Beside him, with long fingers wrapped around Two’s skinny throat, lay another figure Thrace recognized.

“Lord X!” Trin exclaimed.

“Is this the scion Two made of himself?” Six asked, looking down.

“If it’s not it’s close enough to be his twin,” Trin murmured. “Look—is that a blaster hole in his chest?”

“I believe so,” Six answered her. “And look—” He lifted Two’s stiff hand with the toe of one boot. It was still gripping a blaster.

“I wonder what happened to them?” Charlie said.

“It appears that Two was trying to make some kind of transference—maybe he wanted to put his consciousness directly into his scion’s body,” Six said. “Apparently, the scion did not approve of this.”

“He didn’t want Two taking over his body so he strangled him,” Charlie said. “And then Two shot him—they must have died together.”

Becca shivered. “It’s not pretty but at least now we know Two and his scion are out of the picture.” She turned to Thrace. “That must be a load off your mind!”

“Of course.” Thrace tried to smile but for some reason, he couldn’t feel the elation he knew he ought to. There was something too easy…to convenient about the scene Six had found in the abandoned laboratory…

“Well, that’s part of the problem solved, anyway,” Trin remarked, squeezing his hand. “Now we just have to find this Brooks girl somewhere on Earth and get to her before the Verrak assassin does.”

“I’ll send a special prayer to the Goddess that you’ll find her in time,” Nadiah murmured. “But something tells me that this girl, whoever she is, has a long journey ahead of her…and she might not like what she finds along the way.”

Epilogue

Somewhere in the darkness, hidden from view, the muffled sound of heavy boots crunching on broken glass grew more and more distant. The deep voice of the alien intruder was fading as he moved away, finishing his business here.

The sounds were muffled by the nutrient bath that filled the tube so the one inside it could not make out the words the intruder spoke but that didn’t matter—his memory would store it all for later and bring it back when necessary.

There was much to bring back when the time was right…memories of another—the maker who had created the one in the tube in the first place. Memories and directives…tasks to fulfill…missions to complete…a race of people to destroy.

For a moment a pair of burning black eyes with reddish glints opened in the darkness and looked through the cool green nutrient soup. Black hair floated around his face and every muscle in his big body tensed in anticipation. But the time was not right…the cycle was not complete. Soon his time would come but it was not here yet.

The one within the tube closed his eyes and slept for a little while longer, dreaming of the day when he would wake to kill and kill again until the maker’s orders were fulfilled…or he died trying.

The End

Read on for an exclusive look at Kindred 15, Targeted, coming in Spring of 2015 as well as a taste of Solar’s story Mastering the Mistress in the Mastered II box set here for only 99 cents.

Chapter One

It was happening again.

Emily Brooks gasped as a flash of heat swept over her body. It started in her lower pelvis and rolled outward, like flames licking her skin from the inside out, stealing her breath and making every inch of her tingle with unwanted heat.

Oh God, ohGodohGod…No, please—not this—not this again!

Her hands clenched into fists at her sides and her toes curled in her sensible low heeled shoes. The shapeless cotton dress she wore was suddenly too hot—sticking to her full-figured body with the dew of sweat that bloomed across her flushed skin. The hair at the nape of her neck suddenly prickling and her eyes burned. Not like she’d gotten soap in them, though—they burned as if there was some strange heat source behind them.

But though all these weird physical problems were uncomfortable and strange, they weren’t what Emily feared the most. She feared the other coming out. The one she sometimes glimpsed in the mirror. The one inside of her who was getting closer to the surface every day…

“Miss Brooks? Miss Brooks, Avery pushed me!”

“Did not. Anyway, she pushed me first.”

“Did not!”

“Did so!”

“Class!” Taking a deep breath, Emily forced herself to forget about what was happening inside her and concentrate on the kindergarten class under her care at George Washington Elementary.

Her stress must have come through in her voice, because all fifteen of her kids got suddenly quiet and looked at her with large eyes.

Oh God, what do they see? Do they see what I see when I look in the mirror?

Emily took a deep breath…then another. Calm, she had to be calm. It was only 9:30 and she had to make it until 2 when the bell rang for dismissal.

“Miss Brooks,” ventured Avery Andrews. “Do you feel okay? Maybe you oughta go to the nurse.”

“I’m fine, Avery. Thank you for your concern though—that’s sweet.”

Emily did her best to smile at the little boy who was the class clown but so endearing you couldn’t help but love him.

“You don’t look fine,” Kelsey Pincter remarked.

“Yeah, your eyes look funny.” Miracle Jackson said. “All sparky and hot. Like you gots a candle in your head, right behind your eyes—like a jack-o-lantern.”

Like a jack-o-lantern… Emily took another deep breath.

“I’m just fine,” she said again more firmly. “Or I will be if everyone will settle down before we go into the library. Other students are studying in here so we need to be…what?”

“Quiet!” they all chorused loudly and each of them put a finger to his or her lips. “Shhhh!”

Emily tried to smile. Normally her class was the light of her life—she loved kids and since she was never going to have any of her own, being a kindergarten teacher was wonderful. But just now she felt shaky and hot and out of breath—like she’d just run an hour on the treadmill at the gym. Not that she could usually do more than a brisk walk for that long but still—that was the feeling she had.

“All right then, let’s go in quietly,” she murmured, putting her finger to her lips. “Elbows and tip-toes. Line leader, open the door and hold it for the rest of the class.”

Avery was the line leader and he gave her a big freckle-faced grin as he followed instructions, tucking his elbows in and walking with exaggerated caution on the tips of his toes. Emily tried to return the smile as she shepherded her class, which were all doing the same thing, into the large, beautifully decorated media center.

It was a warm, welcoming area which had been painted by a local artist with various storybook characters on the walls. Alice and the Mad Hatter took tea in one corner while the caterpillar looked on from his mushroom. On a far wall, Lucy was opening the door to the magical wardrobe that led to Narnia and on a another wall, a haggard looking Frodo Baggins was holding the One Ring aloft and staring up at the ominous Mount Doom, looming in the distance.

This last mural was perhaps a touch dark for an elementary school library but as a confirmed Tolkien freak, Emily had always loved it. Today, however, she barely noticed it as she herded her class to the big rainbow carpet in the Alice in Wonderland corner. There, to her intense relief, she saw Mrs. Andrews, one of the parent volunteers, was sitting in the big rocking chair and waiting to read a story. Dragons Love Tacos! proclaimed the book in her hand and Emily’s class was already crowding around her. They loved story time.

Mrs. Peltz, the librarian with iron gray hair and stern features, was standing behind the check out desk explaining to a fifth grader why he couldn’t check out the graphic novel he wanted since he still had two more out.

“Mrs. Peltz,” Emily murmured when the disappointed student left. “Since you have a volunteer here, do you mind if I run to the faculty restroom for a minute?”

Mrs. Peltz pursed her lips to a thin, pink line.

“Miss Brooks, you know you’re not supposed to leave students unattended in the library!”

“I know.” Emily was beginning to get desperate. She could feel another heat wave coming on. “I know but it’s just—it’s that time of the month. And I left my, uh, supplies in the classroom.”

“Well…” The librarian looked at her disapprovingly.

“Please,” Emily begged in an undertone.

“All right. But no more than ten minutes, mind.” Mrs. Peltz nodded her sharp chin at the door. “Go on.”

“Thank you!”

Incredibly relieved, Emily left the media center by the back door at a fast walk.

She breathed a sigh of relief as she got out into the chilly wind of the breezeway that connected the media center to the rest of the school. Tampa didn’t get much cold weather but it was mid January, just after the Christmas break and the thermometer had actually dipped into the low sixties—positively frigid for Florida.

The breeze swirling through the breezeway cooled and revived her, drying the sweat that had broken out across her forehead but Emily could still feel the heat building inside her. By the time she reached the faculty bathroom, located in the rear of the admin building, she was nearly shaking again. Control…she had to get control!

She fumbled for the knob and let herself in, intensely relieved to see she was all alone. Stumbling to the sink, she turned on the cold tap and splashed her face with freezing water. Gasping in shock at the water’s bite, she reached blindly for a stack of the coarse, brown paper towels and blotted her cheeks and eyes. She tried not to smear what little make-up she had on but her face still looked naked when she studied herself in the mirror.

“Calm,” she whispered, her voice echoing in the tiled room. “Keep it together, Ems. Keep calm.”

Ems was her nickname—an affectionate moniker given by her big sister, Anna.

No, adopted sister, Emily reminded herself. Adopted—not really blood related at all.

The news of her adoption was still new to her—something her parents had decided to tell her over the Christmas break. “Because we’re getting older, dear,” her mother—no, adopted mother, Emily reminded herself—had said. “And you need to know in case you have some kind of health problems down the line.”

“We wanted to wait until you were married and settled down so you’d have a family of your own and it wouldn’t be such a shock,” her father had added. “But, well…”

“We decided that now was as good a time as any,” her mother had finished delicately. But Emily had understood the unspoken message. We wanted to wait until you were married but you’re past thirty and it doesn’t look like it’s going to happen any time soon.

“I’m only thirty-one,” Emily muttered to the mirror. “It could still happen.”

But she knew it wouldn’t. She was never going to get married and have kids of her own. It wasn’t that she was getting too old—that was silly—she knew women in their forties having their first baby. And in fact, she looked much like she had ten years ago in her early twenties. Unfortunately, that wasn’t necessarily a good thing.

With a sigh, Emily stared at her reflection in the mirror. Her shoulder-length dishwater blonde hair couldn’t be more nondescript if she’d dyed it with a color called Anonymous. And her eyes were a wishy-washy blue-gray-hazel that managed to be all colors and no color at once. Her face was just all right—she had broad, almost Slavic cheekbones, and a wide, too-generous mouth with a small nose. It wasn’t awful but it wasn’t model-pretty either and it wasn’t like she had anything else to recommend her. Aside from her limp hair and no-color eyes, she was too short—barely five foot four—and much too round. The loose cotton dress that hid her figure did her no favors but she wasn’t about to go out and buy anything that hugged her curves. She’d tried that once in college and the result had been disastrous.

As a matter of fact, the last time she’d had this trouble with the weird internal heat waves had been back in college, too. Right before—but Emily pushed that thought away hurriedly. It was a memory she preferred to leave buried.

“Should have known I was adopted,” she told her image in the mirror. “Anna and Mom and Dad are all tall and thin and perfect…and I’m the exact opposite.”

Her sister Anna was thirty-three, a size six and a successful attorney. She was married to a heart surgeon who was both handsome and kind and they had just produced a perfectly beautiful set of twins with big blue eyes that Emily adored. She loved her sister too, despite the fact that it seemed like Anna had gone down the “success checklist” of life and checked off every single box in her relentless march to perfection.

“You’ll find a guy, Ems,” her sister had told her, when Emily confessed that the way her parents had revealed her adoption had hurt almost as much as the adoption itself. “You just have to get out there and get over what happened in college. People do go on, you know. There are support groups for—”

“Stop it!” Emily pressed her fingertips to her temples, rubbing fiercely. Damn it—why did everything come back to that? She hadn’t thought of it in ages but lately, since she’d found out that her family wasn’t really her family, it had been coming back. The memories…the flashes of heat…the dreams…

Oh God, the dreams.

Emily closed her eyes and breathed deeply. The dreams were horrible. One in particular…

I wake in the night. I am thirsty. I go to the bathroom and run some water from the sink into my favorite blue mug. As I raise it to my lips, I look in the mirror and see that I am naked. Naked and pale in the moonlight streaming through the window. My belly ripples—ripples like a white pond with some unseen predator just below the surface of the water. And then the pains start—the sharp, blinding agony right behind my naval.

I start to scream and that’s when I see the claws…long, black claws, poking out of me on either side of my belly button. They tear outward and blood gushes in a wave—I am being torn apart. Annihilated. The other is taking over… ripping me open from the inside out…

Emily shuddered and tried to push the nightmarish image away.

“Don’t be stupid.” Her voice echoed again in the tiled room, making her jump but she went on, lecturing herself in the mirror anyway. “Don’t be stupid there’s not really any other. It’s all in your head just like it was in college when—”

But the words died in her throat.

The eyes staring back at her from the bathroom mirror were no longer nothing-colored. Instead they were a pure, clear gold. Not amber or light brown—brilliant, burnished gold. And her hair—it was changing color too. From dishwater blonde it went to bible black. The change was sudden and complete—as though someone had dumped a bucket of midnight over her head. A stranger stared back at her from the mirror. A stranger…an alien…the other.

Emily gave a soft, breathless scream and backed away from her radically altered reflection. She squeezed her eyes tightly shut and dug her fingernails into her palms.

No…nonono…I’m not seeing this. It’s an illusion—a hallucination brought on by stress. I’m fine. I’ll be fine…finefinefinefinefine!

With a low moan, she forced herself to open her eyes.

They were no-color again. And her hair was the same limp, dishwater blonde it had always been, no matter how many products she used to give it body.

“I’m Emily,” she whispered to herself. “Emily Brooks and I’m fine. There is no other. There is no other.”

If only she could make herself believe it.

She backed away, never taking her eyes off the mirror, fearful lest she see herself change again. But the image stayed the same as she fumbled behind her for the doorknob and let herself out.

Emily took a deep, sobbing breath and leaned against the bathroom door, letting the chilly wind dry her tears. Everything was all right. She was fine.

For now.

* * * * *

Rivin Tragar of the Verrak stared at his target through narrowed eyes.

She appeared to be crying.

Why—he had no idea. It wasn’t really his business. His business was to kill her. And that had been his business since he had first agreed to take this contract from the strange Dark Kindred who called himself “Two.”

So why hadn’t he done it yet?

Tragar had no answer to the question.

Well no—that wasn’t exactly true, he corrected himself. He hadn’t killed her yet because he wanted to know what she was capable of. When Two have convinced him to take the contract, he had hinted darkly of a female with hidden depths—a monster buried just below the surface that might burst through her mild exterior and leave a trail of blood and destruction in her path at any moment.

A monster like that was right up Tragar’s alley. He preferred to take targets who were dangerous and could give him a good fight. Even better if innocent lives might be at stake. In fact, when he’d seen that this female—this Emily Brooks—worked with younglings, he’d almost taken her out from a distance at once, even though it wasn’t his usual way. Better to break his personal protocol that than risk young, innocent lives.

But he’d delayed—stilling the itchy trigger finger on his sonic rifle for two reasons. The first was he preferred a fair fight. Unlike some of the other Verrak, he didn’t take targets at a distance. He took them somewhere safe and secure and let them choose their weapon and fight him face to face—let them die with honor. No matter what heinous crimes they had committed, everyone deserved dignity in death. That was Tragar’s belief, anyway.

The second reason he didn’t shoot, was that he saw the way Emily interacted with the younglings. During his first observation one of them had fallen, scraping a chubby knee on the hard walkway that ran between the school buildings. The young one had run crying to Emily, her knee seeping blood, her eyes awash with tears.

Here we go… Tragar’s finger had tightened on the trigger. Surely the sight of blood would bring out the ravening monster Two had sworn lurked in the innocent looking girl’s breast. He was ready to shoot her down the moment she went for the youngling’s throat.

But instead of going feral—becoming a thing of teeth and claws and appetite—the girl he had been sent to kill gathered the youngling into her arms. She dried the little female’s tears and said some words of consolation—too low for Tragar to understand though he had been studying her language for days now.

The little female had quieted, obviously feeling safe and comforted in the arms of Tragar’s target, who still showed no signs of attacking. Gradually, his finger had loosened on the trigger and then he had put down the rifle altogether and just watched.

Gods, it reminded him of Kallah…the way she was with Jalex when he hurt himself…

No! Tragar had pushed the memory away. He took a deep breath. I do not allow my past to dictate my present or my future. There is no then. There is only here and now. There is only the target.

It a Verrak saying—a necessary reminder since most of those in his elite brotherhood came from a background of loss and sorrow. But though he repeated it to himself over and over, he still hadn’t been able to kill Emily Brooks. Not then and not now, ten days later.

He studied her—watching her wipe at her eyes with a hand that trembled. Why was she crying? What had agitated her so? For a moment he imagined holding her against him and asking her what was wrong. It was foolish of course—a fantasy that could never come true. But there was no denying she would be pleasant to hold.

She had a lush body hidden beneath her shapeless garments—he could tell. It was a shame she didn’t wear clothing that showed her shape but just the outline of her curves was tantalizing. Not that he was supposed to be looking at her that way—she was only another target, after all. Still, those full breasts and rounded hips…

A burning sensation in his left arm brought him back to reality. It was the narsh—the mark of the Verrak—given to him when he first passed the trials and took the oath. Tragar looked down at the thick black lines criss-crossing his muscular arm from shoulder to wrist. The narsh burned to remind him that he had a job outstanding—a commission as yet undone.

Tragar ignored it. He was used to doing so. He never took jobs with time limits on them, preferring to take his time and get every detail exactly right.

I just need to know her, he argued with himself. Need to find out what’s so special—what makes her dangerous before I pull the trigger.

And so he watched…and waited. Soon, he would kill her soon.

But not…just…yet.

Read on for an excerpt from Mastering the Mistress, available for preorder here.

Kaylee looked at her new body slave with more than a little trepidation. She hadn’t planned on getting such a large male—or such a wild looking one. Despite the slaver’s reassurance that he was tamed and trained, the look in those pale green, gold-ringed eyes made her think otherwise. But he didn’t say a word of protest as the lumpish security Crangs led him out to the fancy space flyer her Aunt Jamelda had left her, along with everything else in her will.

Kaylee had wanted to let him ride in the front, strapped into one of the passenger chairs but Lyra had put her foot down. Slaves belonged in the cargo hold until they were properly broken, she said, and she was determined to be certain this Havoc male was perfectly trained before she trusted him out in public.

The whole training ritual made Kaylee nearly as nervous as owning a slave in the first place. Lyra claimed he had to be broken to her will, whatever that meant. Kaylee wasn’t looking forward to the process of trying to “break” such a large male in any way.

She sighed as she thought back to her life just a month ago. She’d been living in relative obscurity on the other side of Yonnie Six, working as a shop girl in Tulga, a little town without much to recommend it. Still, Kaylee had been raised there and she’d been perfectly happy until her mother died about a year ago from an incurable wasting disease. She’d grieved a long time, missing the kind and gentle woman who raised her. Then she’d taken stock of her life and realized she wanted more—more of what, exactly, she didn’t know. But she did know she wasn’t content to live the rest of her life in Tulga.

Luckily, just at that moment fate took a hand. She got word that her great Aunt Jamelda, her mother’s only living relative, had just passed away in a freak cliff jumping accident. Jamelda had been seventy-six at the time and well past her prime but in all her pictures, she didn’t appear much older than Kaylee’s own age of twenty-three. Either she had wonderful genetics or she was addicted to enhancement surgery. Whatever the cause, it seemed she liked living life to the fullest and when Kaylee had learned that she had inherited a fortune, and a mansion in Opulex—the capital city of Yonnie Six—she had decided to follow her great aunt’s example.

Unfortunately, living up to her great aunt included keeping up appearances. Kaylee had felt completely lost the first time she came to a society function. It hadn’t helped that everyone there had ignored her entirely, even after the head body-slave had announced her as the heir of the great Jamelda.

Kaylee had wandered around feeling lost until Lyra had come up to her. Since she was the only one who was kind enough to speak to her, Kaylee had latched onto her quickly. Her new friend had kindly explained that her clothing was all wrong and her lack of a body slave was a social faux pas which couldn’t be excused under any circumstances.

Kaylee had invited Lyra back to the mansion her great aunt had left her and led her from room to room as Lyra’s eyes grew wider and wider. She had decided on the spot to make Kaylee her new “project” and together they were changing her image from that of a poor, timid girl who didn’t know which way was up to a sophisticated woman with the world at her fingertips.

The first step had been clothes. Looking down at the too-short skirt she was wearing, which barely covered her panties, Kaylee felt a twinge of unease. In boring little Tulga, the tiny skirt and low-cut top that nearly showed her nipples would have been considered obscene. But in Opulex, where the most wealthy and powerful mistresses made their homes, it was everyday wear. Indeed, Lyra had assured her that her outfit was positively frumpy. She’d already picked out some gowns for the next society fling that made Kaylee blush just to look at them.

But I won’t be going to any society function if I don’t get this slave trained correctly, Kaylee reminded herself uneasily. She thought of him sitting back in the cargo hold and felt a surge of concern. Was he all right back there? Like all Yonnites, she didn't consider males equals, but she didn’t like having one as a slave either. There were a few free males living on the fringes of Tulga and everyone had been content to leave them alone. Then again, those had been shy, quiet specimens, most of them no larger than any of the women in town and some were quite a bit smaller. None of them were anything like the huge, imposing male Lyra had talked her into buying.

“Well, get ready, we’re almost here!” Lyra chirped, pulling Kaylee away from her worried musings. She was driving and she handled the fast little ship Great Aunt Jamelda had left Kaylee like she’d been born to do it. Her own family was proud but not nearly as wealthy as some of the mistresses in Opulex. Also, Lyra was a second daughter which meant her older sister would inherit everything once their mother died. Still, she didn’t seem to let this fact bother her—she was unfailingly cheerful and if she was a little pushy sometimes, Kaylee was willing to forgive her. After all, Lyra was her only friend in the sprawling, impersonal city and she was happy to have her.

Lyra steered the ship into a small, private entrance at the bottom of the towering building Great Aunt Jamelda had left Kaylee. When she’d learned that the entire huge skyscraper was now hers, she’d been astounded. Most of the floors were rented out to other, lesser mistresses but Aunt J, as Kaylee affectionately thought of her, had kept the top three for herself.

The little ship settled into the private lift and was carried right up to the top of the huge building. There the lift opened into the parking area of the vast suite of rooms which now belonged to Kaylee. In the first two floors there were several living areas, three kitchens, multiple bedrooms, bathrooms, and bathing areas, a private spa and sauna with an attached bubble-water pool, and a massive entertainment theater with dream-gas capabilities.

But despite the wonders of the first two floors, the third floor was what had really caught Kaylee’s attention. It was entirely given over to a massive dungeon complex filled with training and punishment equipment for wayward body-slaves. She hadn’t had time to fully explore the dungeon yet but Lyra had promised they would be making use of all its equipment when they were training the huge Havoc slave.

Kaylee wondered what Aunt J would have made of her purchase. She had kept a whole stable of such slaves herself but they had not been passed on to Kaylee. In her will, she had set the lot of them free and settled them on different worlds where males weren’t looked down on as they were on Yonnie Six. Kaylee thought that was nice. Though she had never gotten to know her aunt before she died, she was developing an affection for the relative whose life had been filled with so much adventure and excitement.

“All right,” Lyra said briskly, popping the doors of the little ship open with a press of her finger. “Let’s take your new slave up to the dungeon where he belongs and get started with his training.”

“Right away?” Kaylee’s stomach gave a nervous little flip. She’d assumed the hard part was over for today. Her plans for the evening had included a relaxing soak in the bubble pool and maybe a few entertainment vids along with some of Aunt J’s excellent stock of Kiper 12 Star wine. But now Lyra seemed to be saying they had to start “breaking” the new slave at once—a process Kaylee was not looking forward to.

“The sooner he acknowledges you as his mistress, the better,” Lyra said, nodding at the back of the ship where the slave was still stowed in the cargo hold. “We have to break him to your will and make him obey.”

“But do we have to start tonight?” Kaylee pleaded. “Honestly, Lyra, I’m worn out from that long trip to the slave market already. Can’t we just…I don’t know, lock him up and start tomorrow?”

“No, it has to be tonight.” Lyra’s bossiness was in full force. “Come on, Kaylee—I’ll show you exactly what to do. Just follow my lead.”

Kaylee had no wish to do any such thing but there was no saying "no" to her new friend. With a sigh, she got out of the ship and walked around to the back. She was just about to pop open the hatch to the cargo hold when Lyra put a hand on her arm.

“No—you can’t just let him out! Not until you’re prepared!” She reached into her elaborately styled gold-cloth Shirazz handbag and pulled out the small, black, evil looking remote to the pain collar the slave still wore. “Now we’re ready,” she announced. “Pop the hatch and then jump back quickly—he’s bound to have a long reach.”

Kaylee wondered nervously why all this precaution was necessary. Hadn’t the slaver promised this slave was well trained and perfectly docile? So why was Lyra handling him like he was a wild animal in a menagerie that might get loose and maul his new owners at any minute?

She opened her mouth to ask the question but Lyra was nodding at her to open the hatch.

“Go on—do it,” she said in a low, tense voice, the remote pointed steadily at the hatch.

Heart in her throat, Kaylee stepped forward and yanked quickly on the hatch release level. Then she sprang backwards, nearly tripping over the new Doli-laRon heels Lyra had insisted she buy to go with the too-short skirt.

From the way Lyra had been acting, she half expected the huge Havoc slave to spring out, snarling and try to attack them both though his hands were still bound behind his back. So it was rather anticlimactic when the hatch swung upward, revealing him lying passively on his side, simply staring at them with a look of irritation in those jewel-like eyes.

“Oh…” Kaylee put a hand to her chest, trying to still her pounding heart. “He seems quiet enough.”

“Yes, he does.” For some reason Lyra didn’t seem pleased about this at all. She frowned and made a threatening gesture at the slave with the remote. “Well, come on, what are you waiting for? Get out here, slave.”

The slave just glared at them for a moment but then he began to extricate himself from the cramped space. Apparently he wasn’t going fast enough for Lyra because when he was only halfway out, she pushed a button on the remote that made his back arch and his teeth clench in apparent agony.

“Lyra!” Kaylee protested. “What are you doing?”

“He’s not moving fast enough to suit me,” Lyra had an ugly look on her snub-nosed face. “This’ll put a little spring in his step. There’s nothing worse than an insolent male.”

“He’s been cramped up in there for ages—he probably can’t move any faster.” Kaylee tried to grab the remote from her but Lyra pulled away, keeping a firm grip on it.

“Relax—this is only the medium setting. He won’t have any permanent damage.”

“Turn it off,” Kaylee insisted. “He’s my slave and I say stop hurting him!”

“Oh, all right,” Lyra muttered sulkily. “But only because he’s too heavy to drag to the dungeon ourselves if he passes out.” She clicked another button on the remote and the huge slave abruptly went limp. Kaylee bit her lip as she watched him slump against the side of the ship, head hanging down, panting heavily.

“Is…is he all right?” she ventured uncertainly.

As if to answer her, the slave looked up. Kaylee recoiled from the look in his green and gold eyes. Before, when they’d first opened the hatch, he’d had am expression of bored irritation on his face. Now he was glaring at them with unmitigated hatred.

For some reason, this seemed to please Lyra immensely.

“Now he’s ready to train,” she announced. “Come on, slave—on your feet.”

Slowly, the slave righted himself until he was standing tall. And tall was really the word—even in her designer spike-heeled footwear, Kaylee could feel him looming over her like a mountain of muscle. A mountain of angry, malevolent muscle, she thought. Oh dear…

But Lyra didn’t seem to notice the murderous glare in the slave’s jewel-like eyes. She had a look of smirking satisfaction on her face as she motioned for the prisoner to precede them from the parking area.

“C’mon, big boy, let’s get you trained,” she told him. “Walk straight ahead and no funny business unless you want another taste of the collar.”

She stalked behind the bound and collared slave like a sadistic prison guard and Kaylee trailed reluctantly after them. Somewhere in the pit of her stomach a bad feeling was beginning to grow. A very bad feeling indeed…

Brides of the Kindred Glossary

AllFather—the evil head of the Scourge, a race that are the byproduct of a failed genetic trade. The AllFather is one of the Old Ones and has the power to reach into a person’s mind to harvest emotional pain and trauma. He lives for the fulfillment of the Scourge Prophesy.

Ancient Ones—beings which live in the Deep Blue—the darkest and most inaccessible part of the Rageron jungles. They are sentient but not related in any way to the Kindred. Each Ancient One has two forms—a bipedal form which resembles a human or Kindred and a beast form which can be deadly and they can change between forms at will. The Ancient Ones predate even the First Kindred and revere the skrillix plant, which they guard jealously.

Bespeak—to contact someone mentally using a Think-me device. It is considered rude to bespeak someone you don’t know intimately.

Beast/Rager Kindred—come from Rageron—a jungle planet full of beautiful but deadly flora and fauna. They have dark hair, golden eyes, and hot tempers but their most defining characteristic is the mating fist. The mating fist is an area at the base of the Beast Kindred’s shaft which engages fully only during bonding sex with his chosen mate. When engorged it swells to keep the Beast Kindred and his bride locked together until she is completely bonded to him. This ensures sex that is both extremely long lasting and multiorgasmic for both partners.

Blackness between the Stars—another name for the Hoard or Grimlax, an ancient enemy of the Kindred. These beings have no souls and so are considered demonic by the Kindred.

Blood Fever—a condition suffered by unmated females on Tranq Prime, the home world of the Blood Kindred. Blood Fever or Burning Blood as it is often called, is caused by a parasite living on the icy world that affects only women. The parasite—found in the fleeta or blood beetle—reacts with a compound in the Tranq Prime water supply to cause the fever. Symptoms include chills, increased sexual need and the feeling of the blood heating in the veins as well as increased coloration of the nipples and sex. If the fever is not treated in forty-eight hours, it will result in death.

Once a Kindred male has had a female’s blood, he forms a natural antidote to Blood Fever which he can pass on by sharing body fluids with her. The most effective way to get the antidote into the female’s system is for a Blood Kindred to bite her, thereby injecting it along with his essence. However, it is also possible to pass along the healing fluid through sex.

Blood Fever used to be very common on Tranq Prime which is what prompted the cold, proud natives to initiate a genetic exchange with the Kindred in the first place. A recent vaccine has nearly eradicated the disease, however, and the original inhabitants of the ice bound planet have little reason to continue the trade. A faction calling themselves Purists are against any further trade with the Kindred.

Blood/Tranq Kindred—are blond with pale blue eyes and come from Tranq Prime where ice, snow, and arctic-like temperatures are the norm. To combat the severe weather conditions, the Blood Kindred have higher than normal body heat with double the human amount of red blood cells. They have developed specific biting rituals to share their supercharged blood and take the blood of their mates during their own version of bonding sex. They have a set of double fangs located where a human’s canine teeth would be. These fangs do not develop fully or become sharp enough to pierce flesh until a Blood Kindred is with a woman he wishes to mate and bond with.

Bonding Ceremony—a wedding-type ritual which takes place after the Claiming Period if the bride chosen by a Kindred warrior has allowed him to have bonding sex with her and joined her mind to his.

Bonding Sex—the extra step a Kindred warrior takes to bind his bride to him permanently during intercourse. For the Beast Kindred, it is the use of the mating fist. For the Blood Kindred, bonding sex means sex during penetration. Twin Kindred bind a bride to themselves by entering her and coming in her at the same time.

Claiming Ceremony—a sort of engagement service that takes place when a bride is first claimed by a Kindred warrior. He declares his intentions toward her and she vows to obey the laws of the Claiming Period.

Claiming Period—women who are drafted are required to go up to the Kindred Mothership and spend a thirty day “claiming period” with the warrior who has chosen them. If, at the end of that time, they have managed to resist the charms of their Kindred mate, they are allowed to go back down to Earth and resume their normal life. However, if they succumb to their Kindred male’s seduction, they are mated for life and must move to the Kindred ship to live, leaving everything else behind and seeing their family and friends on Earth only infrequently. Of course, many women are unwilling to give everything up at the drop of a hat, draft or no draft. But the Kindred have a secret weapon—devotion to their female’s pleasure and attention to detail during incredibly hot sex.

Claming Period Rules—The Claiming Period lasts for four weeks during which the Kindred warrior attempts to seduce his chosen bride and she tries to resist him:

The Holding Week: the Kindred warrior may hold his bride.

The Bathing Week: the warrior and his bride bathe together and he is allowed to massage her with scented oils and make her come.

The Tasting Week: the warrior is allowed to perform oral sex on his bride.

The Bonding Week: sex is allowed but it is completely up to the bride whether she will take things a step further and allow bonding sex which is a special and specific process to the three different types of Kindred males. (Most women have given in well before this point but a few do resist.)

The only way out before the claiming period is up is a breach of contract. This can happen if the Kindred warrior does not strictly follow the rules and tries to skip forward in the order of allowed events or by breaking one of the rules laid down by the Kindred High Council. These rules—mostly to do with restrictions on communication with Earth—are for the safety of everyone aboard the Mothership and are nonnegotiable. Ignorance is no excuse for breaking them and will result in immediate termination of the claiming period.

Convo-pillar—A half inch long insect which resembles a brightly colored caterpillar. Convo-pillars were genetically engineered by traders on the fringe colonies around Rageron to translate alien languages by communicating via thought waves to their wearer’s brain. They have been outlawed by the Kindred High Council because their notoriously unreliable translations cause more conflicts than they solve.

Dark Kindred –also known as Enhanced Ones—this faction of the Kindred race broke off centuries ago when there was a shortage of viable females to call for brides. Vowing to overcome their sexual urges, the Dark Kindred made a genetic trade with the cyborg-like residents of Zeaga Four who are ruled by a group of sentient machines called the Collective. Since all emotion is prohibited on Zeaga Four, the organic inhabitants get emotion damper implants to keep them from committing Feel-crime. Anyone found guilty of Feel-crime without a special dispensation from the Collective may be summarily purged.

Deep Blue—the darkest and most inaccessible part of the Rageron jungles

Dream Sharing—occurs when a Kindred warrior’s mind aligns with that of his bride and they begin to see each other’s day to day activities and memories in their sleep. However, the alignment of the two (or three in the case of the Twin Kindred) minds can take several forms and is not limited to sleep.

Fireflower Juice—an alcoholic beverage made from the Fireflower plant native to Rageron. It resembles milk in appearance but has the flavor of honey, vanilla, lavender and blueberries.

High Councilor—the rightful ruler and defender of the Kindred home planet, First World. Only the High Councilor may sit upon the throne of wisdom and see with the eye of foreknowledge. Without a High Councilor in place, First World and the rest of the Kindred race cannot be adequately protected against the evil machinations of the Hoard.

Hoard—an ancient enemy of the First Kindred also known as the Grimlax or the Blackness which eats the Stars, they are evil, demonic beings with ravenous appetites and a desire to conquer, devour, and destroy every living thing in the universe. They are divided into tribes with the lowest echelon being the most numerous and primitive. The elite or upper echelon tribes are more sophisticated and intelligent but also much more dangerous. They are notoriously manipulative and able to change their appearances using a technique called “shadowing” to look like anyone or anything they choose.

Kindred—a race of genetic traders who have traveled the universe for centuries looking for viable matches to expand their gene pool. Since a genetic anomaly ensures that their population is ninety-five percent male, they are specifically looking for women.

The three genetic trades the Kindred have already made have resulted in three very specific types of men. But though they take on some of the physical characteristics of the race they are trading with, the Kindred gene always ensures three things: physical prowess, extremely large and muscular body structure, and undying loyalty to the female of their choice.

Krik-ka-re—a Scourge tradition in which the mind life of one being may be traded for or ransomed by another.

Kusax—a special knife made from the tainted metal at the core of the Scourge home planet. One scratch can be deadly as it infects the wounded person with a soul poison which ensures a slow, agonizing death.

Law of Conduct—the Kindred law which says every warrior is responsible for the good behavior of his bride and gives him the right to punish her—within reason. Often the “punishment” is sexual in nature and some brides become serial offenders simply to experience their Kindred warrior’s particular form of discipline. ; )

Luck Kiss—a kiss performed by the best man and maid of honor at a Kindred Bonding Ceremony in order to bring the happy couple good luck.

Mate of my kin—the way Kindred warriors refer to the brides chosen by their brothers. It is analogous to the English term sister-in-law.

Marks of Possession—the Scourge way of marking a female as their mate. The Marks of Possession include a close-fitting collar, piercings in the nipples and clitoral hood, and a brand on the inner hip or the top of the buttocks. Scourge with Kindred blood also desire to scent-mark their mates but they require the traditional marks of their kind to really feel bonded to the female of their choice.

Mother of All Life—the main Kindred Deity, a kind and benevolent goddess whose teachings include respect and reverence for all things female.

Numala—a Blood Kindred name which means “liquid pussy.” It refers to a female who produces more than the regular amount of lubrication when aroused. Numalas are much prized by the Blood Kindred and sought after as mates because they are more likely to be able to accommodate a Blood Kindred warrior’s larger than average cock.

Psychic-Knife—a torture device developed by the Scourge which is able to break the mental and emotional bond between a Kindred and his bride.

Rage—also Protective Rage or Berserker Rage—a state of altered consciousness that comes over a Kindred warrior when his bride is threatened. It floods the bloodstream with endorphins and causes such intense anger and aggression that a Kindred in this state becomes a killing machine who will die to protect the woman he has claimed.

Sacred Grove—an area of green and purple trees that houses the temple of the Mother of All Life. The Kindred Mother ship has been equipped with an artificial green sun like the one on their home world in order to allow these holy trees to grow and flourish.

Scourge—a genetic trade gone wrong, these menacing outsiders have twisted desires and sexual needs fierce enough to frighten away even the most adventurous. Their need to dominate and possess their women completely has led to a strange prophesy that they must fulfill…or die trying.

Scourge Prophesy—“One of two, alike and yet different—the double fruit of a single womb from the third planet of a yellow sun. She shall be marked with a white star between her breasts.” These words were spoken by Mee’ah—the last living female of the Scourge race who was believed to be a great seer. The Scourge are a dying race, forced to create new members in artificial wombs called flesh tanks or vats because they have no females. Yet, because they have some of the same genetic characteristics as the Kindred, they are able to create only male children and each new generation is weaker than the last. The prophesy refers to the woman the Scourge believe will be able to mate with the AllFather and bear only daughters to rejuvenate their race.

Skrillix Plant—also known as the Pain Vine. This plant is found only in the heart of the Rageron jungles called the Deep Blue. The brilliant crimson berries of the skrillix are said to cure many illnesses, including stasis sickness and can also dissolve an improperly placed or artificial soul bond. The thorns are said to be as poisonous as the berries are helpful. One prick from a skrillix thorn can give waking nightmares, forcing the victim to relive painful memories. When minds are linked by the juice of the berries, these visions can be shared with others who can witness them via a chemically induced neural link.

Take-me—an animal native to Twin Moons that has been domesticated by the Kindred for transportation aboard their ship. The Take-me has green fur and two heads, one on either end. Each head has three purple eyes. The Take-me has the unique features of being to expand and compress its mass which makes it ideal for storage. Because they originally lived in caves, most Take-mes stay very contentedly in small dark areas in the Kindred food prep areas where they live off the scraps and leavings of their master’s meals. They can eat almost anything except banana peels which they are allergic to.

Tharp—an animal that looks very much like a thin fur blanket which can be worn as a garment. Tharps are cultivated on Tranq Prime and prized for their ability to multiply their host’s body heat and keep them warm in even the most frigid conditions. A tharp can be worn by only one person— as a neophyte or youngster it imprints upon a host and will slowly starve if parted from them. Tharps are intelligent and capable of limited movement. They live as long as their host and subsist only on body heat, needing no other form of sustenance to survive.

Think-Me—a thin silver wire worn around the temples which facilitates mental communication between people who already have an intimate connection.

Touch-U—a flat black mat-like animal native to Tranq Prime which the Kindred have adapted to be a home health appliance. The Touch-U is capable of giving a gentle massage or an all-out erotic experience depending on which button is pushed.

Twin Kindred—come from Twin Moons—a world of vast, stormy oceans dotted with craggy but beautiful islands. True to their namesake, Twin Kindred always come in pairs. The brothers are not identical, however. There is always a light twin and a dark twin. These labels refer not just to skin, hair, and eye coloring but to the twin’s moods and perceptions of the world. The dark twin in the pair is usually more moody and withdrawn while the light twin takes a substantially brighter view of life. The twins are closely linked and able to sense each other’s emotions. They cannot be separated by long distances or for long periods of time without severe pain. They must also share a woman, linking her into their mental and emotional exchange for very intense ménage sex.

Urlich—a type of dog bred by the Scourge. At maturity they are modified with machinery to heighten their sense of smell and intelligence which results in a cyborg-type animal. Once in pursuit of whatever scent has been programmed into their brains, the urlich are utterly single minded and incapable of stopping until their prey has been cornered and captured.

Wave—a Kindred cooking appliance which emits thousands of finely collimated beams of heat to cook food in under a minute.

Zichther—an animal native to the jungles of Rageron, the zichther resembles a small bright blue teddy bear in appearance until it opens its mouth and reveals three rows of incredibly sharp, shark-like teeth.

About the Author

Evangeline Anderson is a registered MRI tech who would rather be writing. And yes, she is nerdy enough to have a bumper sticker that says “I’d rather be writing.” Honk if you see her! She is thirty-something and lives in Florida with a husband, a son, and one elderly, puking cat. She had been writing erotic fiction for her own gratification for a number of years before it occurred to her to try and get paid for it. To her delight, she found that it was actually possible to get money for having a dirty mind and she has been writing paranormal and Sci-fi erotica steadily ever since.

You can find her online at her website http://www.evangelineanderson.com

Come visit for some free reads and to find out what’s coming soon. You can also connect with her on  FaceBook tweet her on Twitter  or find her pins on Pinterest (check out the Kindred Quotes where readers can suggest quotes from their favorite Kindred books and see them turned into pins with credit given to the finder!) And to be the first to hear about new releases, join her Newsletter.

Also by Evangeline Anderson

Brides of the Kindred books (in order)

Claimed (also available in print and audio)

Hunted (coming soon as an audio book)

Sought

Found

Revealed

Pursued

Exiled

Shadowed

Chained

Divided

Devoured (also available in print)

Enhanced

Cursed

Born to Darkness Paranormal series

Crimson Debt

Scarlett Heat

Ruby Shadows (coming as soon as my Muse gets over her mental block. Sorry guys!)

Stand Alone novels and novellas

Purity

Stress Relief

The Last Man on Earth

Blind Date with a Vampire

Shadow Dreams

Young Adult, writing as Emmaline Andrews

The Academy

Compendiums

Brides of the Kindred Volume One

(includes Claimed, Hunted, Sought and Found all in one volume)

***You can also find many other books by Evangeline at her website***

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Kindred 15: Targeted excerpt

Mastering the Mistress excerpt

Kindred Glossary

About the Author

Also by Evangeline Anderson

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Kindred 15: Targeted excerpt

Mastering the Mistress excerpt

Kindred Glossary

About the Author

Also by Evangeline Anderson

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Kindred 15: Targeted excerpt

Mastering the Mistress excerpt

Kindred Glossary

About the Author

Also by Evangeline Anderson