Ghost in my Heart [Darklands Book 4] Read online

"It's an acid burn, earned in a skirmish. The “paint” is the remnants of quick battle doctoring. I've never taken the time to have it corrected with surgery. It would take too much time, and I've already spent too many hours at the medics for my liking.” He looked away, but she must have seen what he tried to hide.

  Vana smirked. “You don't like that guy either, do you?"

  "When you've spent seven weeks as a quadriplegic, endured multiple, painful surgeries only to spend months as a paraplegic, barely able sit upright, you'd hate it, too.” Even the twins had fallen silent at the reminder of that dark time. He'd come very close to losing his title. At times only fury at his own weakness had given him the strength to keep trying.

  "What happened?” she asked softly, taking his hand. That soft touch was almost more than he could bear at that moment.

  "My ship was blown apart in a surprise attack. Ser was injured, too, but he managed to call for help. At times I wished he'd let me die there, the pain was so bad, but whenever I gave up he'd shout and curse at me until I did my exercises just to spite him. The bones are knit now, and my organs regenerated, but I still feel pain at times. A hard workout almost always leaves me hurting.” That was an understatement, but she didn't need to know that. Not that the pain mattered—he wasn't about to let his body degenerate as long as he had the will to fight. Besides, the medics had assured him that he would regress if he ever slowed down.

  Vana didn't say a word, just sat up and crawled into his lap, burrowing as close as humanly possible. By her ragged breathing, the tale had upset her more than he'd thought it would. Feeling awkward, for he'd never been in this position, he stroked her back. A look sent their little chaperones scampering off with the remains of their picnic.

  Sunset began as Dagon slowly kissed her, lowering them both to the blanket. Rules of chastity no longer mattered to him, not when she was hurting, and he had the perfect way to comfort them both. Already primed by his kisses, she accepted the further pleasure he offered willingly, moaning as he unclipped her vest and cupped her breasts. He was gentle, but it only seemed to inflame her more. Undulating beneath him, she closed her eyes and twined her fingers in his hair, silently begging for more.

  Yet as he pinned her there, softly exploring what she so eagerly offered, his religious training kicked in. He wanted, but couldn't take, not without a public declaration. It was a protection for her and a point of honor for him, and he found he wanted the public ceremony, wanted the world to know that she was his forever.

  Even so, he was no saint. She was naked and willing, and never had he felt such softness as her sweetly peaked breasts beneath his hands. A little squeeze, and she gasped. Pinching her nipples made her moan and thrash beneath him. The touch of his tongue caused her to cry out and grip his hair, urging him on.

  Regretfully, he realized he'd better stop before there was no stopping. It was certain she didn't have the will to try. For a moment he pillowed his head on the softness of her breast, promising himself that he had only this last night to wait. She'd thank him....

  Vana squirmed beneath him. “What's the matter? Why did you stop?"

  Grunting in annoyance, he sat up and reached for the clasps of her vest. “I was trying to be honorable."

  He got a dirty look for his trouble. Vana slapped his hands away and fastened her vest with hands that shook. “It's rude to tease a girl, Dagon."

  Out of patience with her and feeling frisky, he grabbed her and rolled over and over in the grass until they were next to the pool. He ended up on top, pinning her down as he slid his thigh between hers. “You want this?” he asked dangerously, giving her a little of their weight.

  "Ohh....” It seemed she did.

  "Then marry me tomorrow and you'll get it all night.” Before the thought could inflame him further, he rolled them both into the pool.

  Vana shrieked as she struggled upright in the cool water, slinging it from her as she gasped for air. “You jerk!” She shoved him, sending him sprawling in the shallow water.

  Dagon laughed and got back up. “You were getting a little overheated."

  "Me!"

  "Well, I wasn't the one moaning,” he said unchivalrously, trying not to grin. When had he last felt so happy?

  "Argh!" She grabbed the towel and stomped off, trailing water all the way.

  "Now that was quite a sight,” Kynan said as he stepped from the shadow of the trees. “Don't worry, I was only here a minute. You won't have to kill me."

  Dagon didn't ask why Kynan felt the need to say as much. It must have been obvious what they'd been up to. “Switching chaperonage with the boys?” It was the kind of thing a friend would do.

  "As night fell and they returned from the garden looking solemn, it seemed the thing to do,” Kynan agreed. He looked over Dagon's head and tapped his fingers on his thigh. “Do you require an apology for this morning, or should I consider it all in the line of duty?” He met Dagon's gaze. “I did not enjoy hurting her, even for you."

  "For the council, you mean."

  "You know I've never minded them. It's the reason I refused to fight to be Tzar. Who wants to deal with a pack of bitter old women?” His gaze silently asked if all was right between them.

  After a tense moment, Dagon nodded. Kynan was a consummate actor, which was why he'd been chosen for the job, but he was not cruel by nature. What he'd done, he'd done for Dagon, and maybe, for Vana. Time would tell.

  Relaxing back into his careless persona, Kynan asked, “So, does this mean that I get to help man your wedding booth?"

  Dagon laughed and slapped him on the back. “Only if you promise to bet on me. I mean to break Ser's record."

  "You always were a competitive one.” Kynan winked. “But I think I will remove myself from your lady's sight until tomorrow—she's wroth with me just now. Besides, I've yet to see the Earth collection point, and thought I'd take a look. None of the women here seem promising."

  Dagon raised a brow. “Out of a thousand women, with more added daily, you haven't found one to interest you? Perhaps you should spend more time with them. Surely there's at least one in there to suit you. You do have seniority."

  Kynan shook his head. “Not in that bunch. I know what I'm looking for. Five minutes with the right woman, and I'll know."

  * * * *

  Kelsa Gram slammed her palms down on the reception desk and leaned forward, pinning the man behind it with a hard stare. “Listen up, desk jockey! My friend Vana has been here for weeks now, and not one phone call. Even prisoners get that much. I will see her, and I will see her now, or I'll come back with a lawyer and slam your little cult. Do we have an understanding?” She was fighting mad. She'd been suspicious of the academy thing from the first, and research hadn't reassured her. Maybe she ought to have brought backup, and that was plan B. If these guys didn't let her see Vana, then she was bringing down the big guns, because she was very afraid that something bad had happened to her friend.

  Just so the stony faced jerk behind the counter didn't think she was easy prey, she added, “And you'd better hurry up. I told my brother that I was meeting him for lunch, and he'll come looking for me if I don't show. He's a senator, you know.” He wasn't, nor did her brother care what happened to her. He was usually too high to even find his own butt, at least when he wasn't in prison. But this schmuck didn't have to know that.

  "Is there a problem, Alsike?"

  Kelsa turned to blast the intruder and forgot to speak. Whoa! She hadn't seen anything that good looking since Highlander. In his late thirties, dark haired and sharp-eyed with intelligence, his sharply angled face was cut just the way she liked it—manly, without a trace of pretty boy in it.

  Jaded, she wondered which of his body parts was pieced, branded, tattooed or otherwise mauled. Or, God forbid, maybe he had a boyfriend. Luck had never been with her when it came to men. Her first boyfriend had been kinky, and she hadn't realized it until they'd been in bed, about to pop her cherry, and she'd finally admitted her virginity. He'd
gotten all excited and wanted to tie her up and spank her to “do it right".

  She shuddered at the memory.

  Worse, the second time she'd actually made it with a car salesman—hey, at least he'd had a steady job. He'd casually rolled out of bed afterwards and walked off like she'd been a cheap trick. Even worse, the sex hadn't been anything to get excited about, even before the hurting part. Looking back, she couldn't believe that she'd been so anxious to be like the rest of the popular culture that she'd wasted herself on a guy who couldn't care less. No pleasure—if there was any to be had—was worth that. Let the guys think she was frigid. It would really take a burning passion before she'd be willing to risk being humiliated again.

  There was also that soft, hidden part of her that hoped for a little bit more.

  She'd really hoped that Vana would break the streak of bad luck for both of them. Speaking of which....

  Kelsa gave the suspected pervert her coldest look. “I'm here to see my friend Helvana Clue. She goes by “Vana” most of the time, and I'm not backing down until I see her."

  A slight smile lingered at his mouth as his midnight blue eyes took her measure. “I see. Did you plan to do a room by room search? I warn you, the men's showers might be a little more than you can handle.” He spoke with an odd accent, something she'd never heard before.

  Incensed, she glanced down him, looking for a name tag. Surprisingly, he wasn't even dressed in the military outfits of the other men on the grounds and in the building. Instead he wore a studded brown vest with a Chinese collar, brown leather pants with panels of dark leather, laces up the calf and decorative metal studs. Matching brown boots, also inset with metal, completed the outfit. On his left hand was a metal cuff, which he glanced at, his eyes moving as if he were reading something.

  Before she could blast him, he glanced at the desk clerk. “You ran her identification through the system?"

  The clerk nodded. “She is unencumbered. Would you like to give her the tour?"

  The note of spitefulness in the clerk's tone made Kelsa's hackles rise. This was not good. “Maybe I'll just come back with my brother.” And about a zillion cops. She spun on her heels and took three quick steps.

  A large hand clamped down on her shoulder. “Smart, Miss Gram, but far too late. I'm afraid I'm going to have to take you to see your friend after all."

  * * * *

  Kelsa woke in an unfamiliar pair of arms. Slightly woozy, she struggled, using her elbows to make her wishes known. Obligingly, her carrier set her down, holding her shoulders as she wobbled.

  They were in some sort of science lab. An army of technicians swarmed over the machinery, and beyond them—

  Kelsa stiffened and stared. A good dozen beast-headed soldiers, all armed, ringed the room. “Have I dropped into the middle of Stargate, or is this the kimchee coming back to haunt me?” she whispered.

  "Are you talking about that gate?” The man behind her turned her around. She almost fell. Before her was a glowing blue gate the size of a doorway, pulsing with light. Full of dread, she slowly glanced over her shoulder, staring at the man in brown leather. She moved her lips, but no words came out.

  He sent her a cocky smile, loaded with amusement. “Congratulations, you're on another planet. Yes, your friend is here, and yes, I'll take you to her. Though.... “His eyes swept over her. “Maybe we'll take a little detour first."

  "Try it, buddy, and I'll rip it off. I'm no quivering virgin to be scared out of my mind by the thought of unpleasant sex.” That was a lie, but she got more mouthy the more afraid she became. It made her burn that he would threaten her, but hey, whatever he planned couldn't be worse than Harry, the car salesman, had put her through. It made her angry to be proven right—he was just another jerk after all.

  "I won't hold it against you,” he said smoothly, crossing his arms. “At least I know you like it."

  "That's debatable,” she snapped, risking a quick glance at the doorway. Maybe....

  "I'm afraid not.” He took her arm again, guiding her unwilling self toward the steel stairs. “How about I deposit you someplace comfortable, and then go tell your friend you're here? I'm sure she'll be glad to see you. By the way, I'm Kynan."

  "Conan? How appropriate. You look like a barbarian to me.” Apparently even shock had no effect on her smart mouth.

  They were halfway up the stairs when another man ran up to the base, calling, “Wait! Honored Kynan, we can't let her out of here without an exam."

  Kynan considered her. “Do you have any diseases we should know about, little bird?"

  "Terminal PMS,” she shot back, disliking the nickname.

  Brows raised, he considered her a moment, then reversed his direction. “I hope it's curable. I'd hate to send you back.” He tweaked one of her short blond curls.

  She hit him.

  The perpetual amusement faded from him. A predator looked out through his eyes. “Careful, small one. I'm a pleasant man, but I do not tolerate being struck. Behave."

  Reminded that he was bigger, and by the look in his eyes, meaner, than she'd ever hope to be, she subsided. Her rebellious tongue couldn't resist a parting shot, though. “I don't take well to captivity, and I hate having my hair pulled."

  "Tugged,” he corrected, “and I'll make you a deal. You may retaliate—in kind. If I tug your hair, you may tug mine. If you can reach it.” He smirked, for her head hit him at his chest. He had to be at least 6"4. Without waiting for her reply, he took her arm and led her into a room off the main chamber.

  A solemn technician greeted them and gestured for Kelsa to have a seat on an examining table. She balked.

  Kynan picked her up and deposited her rump on top.

  Intimidated despite herself, she divided her suspicious glare between her tormenter and the technician, who waved a scanner thing in her direction.

  He checked the readout, his brows knit together. “Well, she's not pure, but according to this, she can't have mated more than once or twice."

  Her jaw dropped. “How dare you! That's nobody's business!"

  Ignoring her as if she were all of three years old, the man went on, “Still, I can't take responsibility for this.” He looked at Kynan hopefully. “We could always do a mind wipe and send her back."

  There was a little gasp of horror from the patient.

  Kynan sent her a look of amusement tinged with compassion. “Let's not. No telling what the drugs would do to an alien. I'll assume responsibility for her. Any other concerns?"

  The medic shrugged and made some notes. “She's healthy. If you'll just sign here, you can be on your way."

  Made mute by embarrassment, Kelsa allowed herself to be fast-walked from the examining room. This place was barbaric! What would they do next, strip her naked and set her up for auction?

  Kynan caught her before she could break for the gate. Holding her trembling body, he said softly, “Easy. No one's going to hurt you. In a few minutes you'll see Vana, and she can reassure you."

  Vana. Nodding grimly, Kelsa jerked out of his arms and stalked up the stairs. She just hoped the nightmare wasn't about to get worse.

  * * * *

  Vana blinked as Kelsa walked into her room, closely guarded by Kynan. By the aggrieved expression on Kelsa's face, it was obvious they were not getting along.

  "Kelsa! What...?” Uncertain whether to be thrilled to see her friend or concerned about how she came to be there, she started forward.

  Kelsa wrapped her in a frantic hug. “Are you all right?"

  "Of course, but—"

  Holding her away with urgent hands, Kelsa scanned her face. “No, I mean are you all right?” Did anyone hurt you?

  Hearing the silent question, Vana gripped Kelsa's hands reassuringly. “I'm fine, really. Nobody would dare hurt me."

  Peering at her, Kelsa demanded, “Why?"

  A little blankly, Vana looked to Kynan for help, only to find that he'd retreated and shut the door behind him. “It's complicated. But for one thing, I'
m going to marry the king here.... “she trailed off at Kelsa's sickly expression.

  "Are you nuts?" She began to pace. “No way! No. We are getting out of here and finding a way back home. I don't know what they've done to you—"

  "They haven't done anything."

  "Some kind of mind control or ... or something."

  Trying for patience, Vana shook her head. “Kelsa, I'm in love."

  Unimpressed, Kelsa shook her finger at her. “I've heard of this. It's called the Stockholm Syndrome or something, isn't it? Where you fall in love with your jailer? Don't worry, as soon as I get you home, you'll get over it."

  "I don't want to go home. There's no way home.” Vana was getting irritated, for a fearful part of her was waking up and clambering that maybe Kelsa was right.

  Going stock-still, Kelsa stared at her. “How can you be in love? You haven't been gone that long."

  Letting out a quivering breath, Vana nodded. “True, but I am. It just happened."

  Eyes narrowed, Kelsa grilled her. “What's he done to prove his love?"

  Caught, Vana bit her lip. “Well ... he wants to marry me."

  "And?"

  The girl was merciless. “He's told you he loves you?"

  Crushed under that hard stare, Vana dropped her eyes. “Not in so many words."

  Kelsa began to pace. “Why did they bring you here?"

  Hating the truth, Vana admitted softly, “They have a women shortage.” The truth she'd been trying to ignore flashed before her eyes, taunting her. “They needed wives,” she whispered.

  Pain and compassion shimmered in Kelsa's eyes as she came and placed a gentle hand on Vana's shoulder. “Well, their shortage is about to get worse, by two. They never should have taken you, Vana."

  Chapter 5

  "You what?” Dagon couldn't believe his ears. Vana was refusing to marry him.

  Looking as if she'd been sobbing all night, she lifted her determined face toward him. “You don't love me. There's only one thing you want from this marriage, and you can get that anywhere."

  The few people who had been in the room scattered, unwilling to witness the fallout.