Forbidden Worlds - Box Set (5 page)

“Yes, but more importantly, I need to find a healer willing to accompany me off world. I have a friend with Lorcan Syndrome, still in the early stages, and I’ve been told Braxan healers have cured it on occasion.”

Mojar nodded. “Yes. Some of our newer therapies have been successful with Lorcan. Is the patient Sparthan?”

“No. She’s human, female. I hope that won’t be an obstacle.”

“Of course not. Braxan females require medical care as well. We don’t discriminate.”

Damon nodded. Waves of tension rolled off Lea, though she remained gratefully silent. He wished he could excuse her and deal with Mojar in private, but he didn’t dare leave her unattended. “Please, name a price for your services. I have extensive resources at my disposal.”

Mojar stepped close to Damon and looked directly into his eyes for the first time. Raw contempt filled the pastel green irises. “The price I would ask is too high.”

Damon had no doubt that was true, but he had to play along. He smirked. “Try me.”

Mojar backed away, no more than an inch though, giving ground without surrendering. “I remember Troy Gabriel. He was desperate to find a healer who could cure Lorcan. So desperate in fact, he stole one.”

“What do you—?” Lea’s truncated question drew an accusatory glare from Mojar, and Damon silenced her with a sharp glance.

“What do you mean he
stole
a healer?”

Mojar rolled his eyes upward as if searching for something. “I believe you might call it
kid-napping
. We have no such term. Troy Gabriel committed a theft. He took a female apprentice from the Citadel and brought her into the jungle. Neither has been seen since. Because of his crime no one here will be convinced to leave with you.”

“Why? I’m not planning to carry anyone off into the jungle.”

“The healer Gabriel took was my possession. No one will defy my wish that any ally of his receive no help from us.”

Damon sighed. He hadn’t expected petulance. Beside him, Lea’s skin gave off heat waves, and she seemed to tremble with the effort to keep herself quiet.

“What if I offered to retrieve your apprentice along with Troy?”

“I doubt you could find her. Many have come here searching for their missing loved ones. Most end up converting themselves.”

“Well, I left Ambrax once. I intend to do so again. Give me a chance, and if I succeed, agree to come off world with me and name a sum in Sparthan currency. My people deal in gemstones that have value across half the galaxy.”

Mojar contemplated this, his expression falsely pensive. Finally, he spoke. “I’ll name my price now. If you find Troy Gabriel, kill him. Then I’ll accompany you off world.”

* * * *

An hour later, Lea paced back and forth in the small suite of rooms that Braxan security had assigned them on the Citadel’s rather small visitors’ level. Forbidden worlds didn’t get many tourists, so the quiet in this section of the quarter was deafening.

The accommodations were spotless, barely used and already stocked with their belongings and supplies from the skimmer, all thoroughly searched and cataloged no doubt, though every single one of Damon’s weapons was accounted for. Wide windows afforded a spectacular view of the western jungle in the distance, and now that night had fallen one small moon rose over the expanse of the protected zone, turning the golden sand of the wasteland to pale silver.

Despite the calm, Lea’s stomach churned. “I can’t believe that little bastard turned all the other healers against us just because Troy kidnapped his sex slave.” She’d been ranting for a while now, letting out all the questions and snide remarks she’d had to stifle during their less than successful trip to the medical enclave. Damon sat at the small table in the main room, cleaning his daggers. He hadn’t spoken at all until now.

“Here it’s not a kidnapping. Troy stole Mojar’s possession, a fortune, no doubt if this girl was deemed worthy enough to study medicine with him. She was probably worth a considerable amount in trade, and Mojar’s been left essentially destitute. He wants some revenge.”

“Isn’t murder a bit of an excessive punishment for theft?”

Damon shrugged. “Not in some cultures. From what I understand, the converts cannot be tried or convicted of crimes. They’re completely free and not held responsible for their actions. Murder is the only way they can be punished, and as a Braxan citizen, Mojar isn’t allowed to kill one of them.”

“But
you
are?”

“I don’t pretend to know how all their rules work, but yes. And to be honest, I don’t see this as a problem.”

Lea rounded on him, ready for battle. “What? I thought you weren’t a killer.”

Damon met her heated gaze. “Is your sister’s life worth more to you than Troy’s? If he’s been out there in the jungle for months, he’s as good as dead anyway. No one’s ever been brought back from there, so we don’t even know if this transformation can be reversed.”

Lea fought off a wave of nausea. Shame coursed through her body at the realization that she’d gladly trade Troy’s life for the slightest opportunity to save Darya. He’d been more than willing to die for her, so why was it such a hard pill to swallow that it might be his death that brought them closer to a cure? “Why can’t we bribe one of the other healers? Everyone has a price, and I’ve got plenty of the ‘resources’ you promised Mojar.”

“I doubt it would work. Mojar may be broke, but he seems to have a lot of influence as one of their top healers. If the others are loyal to him, we won’t stand a chance.”

“We have to try.”

“Do you want to skulk around the medical enclave looking for a disgruntled healer who’s willing to betray Mojar, or do you want to find your brother-in-law and get the hell out of here with someone who might actually be able to save your sister’s life?”

Damn him again. Lea could have debated the issue all night, but the door chime interrupted any further comments on her part. While Damon rose to answer the door, she retreated farther into the suite, her mind whirling around how she would ever look Darya in the eye if she had to sacrifice Troy’s life on her behalf.

She bit her lower lip to help keep silent when Mojar’s unctuous voice floated through the room.

“I’ve come to see if you have decided to accept the terms of my offer,” the healer said. He spoke to Damon, but his gaze fell on Lea and narrowed as if he expected her to answer for her master. He was a slick operator, and to be honest, she wasn’t sure she wanted to place Darya’s precarious health in his hands. Mojar would use them; that was clear. The question at hand was, could they manipulate him to get what they needed while making him think they were giving him what
he
wanted?

Unlike Mojar, Damon didn’t look at Lea. He motioned the healer to sit down. “I’m willing to negotiate.”

Mojar folded himself into one of the formless chairs and placed his hands on his thighs. “I will admit, I tend to let personal feelings color my judgment in matters of business. Perhaps that’s a flaw of mine.”

Damon remained standing, holding the position of power in the room. “Will it really please you to see Troy dead?”

“He’s your kin, correct?”

“My sister’s husband,” Damon responded without missing a beat.

“You both are seeking help for the same patient?”

“Yes, and I’m sure you know better than I that time is running out.”

Mojar nodded. “I understand, and I’m willing to help you. I’d like to accompany you into the jungle to search for both Troy and Alor, the healer he stole.”

“Fine. Will you insist that I kill him if we find him?”

Mojar considered. Lea stared at his chest, wishing she could inflict pain on the pompous man with a look. “No. At this point he has no recollection of his crime anyway. You do realize, he’s no longer the man you remember.”

“That doesn’t make me any more willing to end his life.”

“Perhaps not, but it means you may be left with no choice. Many of the converts can be violent and unpredictable when confronted. That’s why my people don’t interact with them once they leave the Citadel.”

“I’ll take my chances.”

Mojar rose then, a satisfied glint in his eye. “Good. I must admit, Captain, your arrival here presents an opportunity for me. My people don’t venture into the jungle. I look forward to the chance to retrieve my property, but should that endeavor fail, you may compensate me for my services with this.” He held out his hand to Lea who flinched when his cold fingers brushed her skin. “I ask that you turn your female over to me if we are unable to retrieve Alor.”

Lea sought Damon’s gaze. She didn’t care if Mojar caught the slight nod she gave. Damon’s throat worked as though he were swallowing something putrid, but he managed a tight smile. “Of course.”

Mojar grinned. “Then we have an agreement. May I sample her before I go this evening?”

Damon choked the words out, a muscle beneath his left temple jumping in protest. “Absolutely. As long as I can watch.”

Chapter 4

Lea’s stomach churned when Mojar crossed the room to stand before her. How would she get through this? Especially with Damon watching?

The prospect of having his eyes on her while another man fucked her had her clit tingling. Shame heated her cheeks. Heaven help her, what if she enjoyed it?

Without comment, she rose, keeping her eyes focused on Damon while Mojar opened the front of her shirt and pushed the garment off her shoulders. The cool, conditioned air of the room hit her nipples, and they hardened instantly. The heaviness of arousal settled in her womb, and her pussy dampened.

Mojar was not unattractive, though he looked like almost every other Braxan male she’d seen so far. His light hair hung to his shoulders in neatly combed waves, and there were some age lines around his pale eyes, attesting to the fact that, though his body was supple and lean, he had a few years on Damon.

She drew in an even breath when he opened her pants and slid them down her legs. As Damon had instructed her before they landed, she wore no underwear.

“Follow me. I prefer to be comfortable.” His bland instruction held no emotion, but the gleam in his eyes made her angry and—damn it—just a little hot. She hoped he was good, because she didn’t trust herself not to make a snide comment if his Braxan cock failed to impress.

Damon stalked after them toward the small bedroom and took up a position in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest, his expression deliberately blank. The muscles in his arms and his jaw set into hard lines when Mojar led her to the bed and motioned for her to lie down. Only then did she close her eyes, intent on imagining Damon above her.

She sensed Mojar climbing on the bed immediately after her, fully clothed by the rustle of his stiff clothing. The rough fabric of his dark suit brushed her thighs and her belly as he settled himself between her knees. Curious, she spared him a peek beneath her lashes. Was he planning to dry hump her? She’d probably never get through that with a straight face.

Unfortunately, Mojar was well prepared. Easy access Braxan clothing allowed him to open the front of his pants, freeing a long, well-shaped cock, fully erect, with dark testicles hanging below.

Prepared for anything now, Lea transferred her gaze to Damon just as Mojar, without comment or preamble, thrust into her.

* * * *

A battle raged in Damon’s chest while he watched the Braxan fuck Lea. The sight of her pale thighs spread on each side of Mojar’s slim, dark-clad hips had his cock straining. In contrast, the detached expression on her face constricted his lungs. She was neither enjoying it, nor enduring it, merely participating as one would in any other routine activity.

Memories of the previous night flooded his brain, and his gut churned. He wouldn’t be able to stand this much longer. He wanted to wrap his hands around Mojar’s scrawny throat and strangle the life out of him.

And he longed to push the older man aside and finish the job properly.

Lea didn’t make a sound, no appreciative moans or sensual purring as she had with him, and that gave him some peace of mind. If she’d cried out in pain or discomfort, he’d have slit Mojar’s throat in a heartbeat, and to be ready, his hand sought the hilt of his dagger and remained there until the healer finally grunted his satisfaction and rolled aside.

Lea lay still, her bland expression still in place, while Mojar closed his pants and adjusted his now flaccid cock. “Thank you,” he said as he moved toward the bedroom door, and Damon stepped aside to let him pass. “If you permit me, I’ll take care of the necessary arrangements for transport into the jungle. I have access to a portable DNA scanner that may help us locate Mr. Gabriel.”

Damon nodded, but with his jaw muscles clenched so tightly, the movement was painful. “Agreed. We have our own food and water supply. Enough for two days, maximum. If we can’t locate Troy in that time, we need to leave. We’re racing against the clock with Lorcan.”

Still lying on the bed, Lea reacted to Damon’s announcement. Her mouth opened to comment, but he silenced her with a sharp look, then escorted Mojar from the apartment.

* * * *

When the men vacated the bedroom, Lea hurried to the adjacent bathroom and turned on the shower. It hadn’t been so bad allowing Mojar to fuck her. He’d been quick and efficient, no worse than some of her own former lovers, to be honest.

For some reason, she’d derived pleasure from having Damon watch the “transaction.” Deep in her womb, the tiny spark of arousal had begun when her stoic guardian had reached for his dagger. She doubted Mojar had been aware of the movement, but the fact that Damon was ready to attack on her behalf turned her on. Was it possessiveness or actual jealousy? If she’d moaned or pretended to enjoy it, would Damon have slit the arrogant healer’s throat?

That image excited her even more. Surely no one would know if she pleasured herself now, just to ease the tension of the less than satisfying sexual encounter. With her hand snaking toward her mound, she stepped into the lukewarm stream of water just as Damon burst into the room. He leveled a dangerous gaze at her that had her nipples tightening to hard peaks and her clit throbbing to life.

“Clean him off you.” He delivered the command while guiding her under the water. “I don’t want any of him left inside you.”

She said nothing. Her tongue seemed thick and stuck against her teeth, and her belly tightened reflexively when he reached down to spread her sticky thighs apart. Roughly, he parted her pussy lips and washed Mojar’s cum away in the tepid water. Legs weak, Lea had to brace herself on Damon’s broad shoulder while he worked. She bit her lower lip and watched his vest turn dark as the shower spray spread dampness across his back.

Her knees trembled, and while he rubbed his fingers vigorously over her clit, she fought not to collapse against the slippery shower wall. “I-I’ll have to do it again, you know. Mojar is going to enjoy using me. I get the feeling if he can’t punish Troy for stealing his woman, he’ll take advantage of you to get his revenge.”

“I’m not worried about his motives.” Damon stroked her mound, her thighs, then grabbed her ass and pulled her wet body against his. Fumbling with shaking fingers, she opened his pants and freed his massive erection. In a heartbeat, he lifted her up, pressed her back against the shower wall and plunged inside her.

Lea gasped and turned her face to the spray to cool her burning cheeks while Damon pistoned her slippery body up and down his shaft. “Are you going to fuck me every time Mojar does?” She panted the question in his ear, and in response he increased his rhythm and the depths of his determined thrusts.

“You’re mine. As long as we’re here, you’re mine. I don’t want you or Mojar to forget that.”

Lea nodded, then clenched her inner muscles hard against her rising orgasm. She wrapped her arms around his neck and held on tight. As long as they were on Ambrax she belonged to him, and in this moment, by God, she never wanted to leave.

With a deep growl, Damon came. His body shuddered, and he buried his face against Lea’s neck. On the heels of his final pulse, her own orgasm tore through her, curling her up with its force and squeezing his still hard cock like a fist. He thrust once more, twice against her inner spasms, drawing two quick gasps of pleasure from her.

“Yes...only you can do this to me,” she whispered as her legs slid over his hips. Her feet connected with the shower floor, and she wobbled for a moment. Damon propped her up, then put his hands on her shoulders and bent to suckle on wet nipple.

The scrape of his teeth against her areola, the flick of his hot tongue over the tight bud, milked a few more startlingly sharp pulses from her clit. Moaning, Lea held him, urging him to play while the lower half of her body seemed to melt.

He scowled when he finally released her hyper-sensitive flesh and glanced up at her from under long male lashes. Drops of water clung there and some ran down the planes of his face. “I don’t like losing control like that.”

“To me, it felt like you were in perfect control,” she replied, still a little breathless. “I have no complaints.”

He released his grip on her waist and flung himself out of the shower. A trail of water followed him before running toward the drains set into the bathroom floor. “I feel like it’s starting already. This isn’t me, rutting like an animal, wanting to kill a man for touching a woman I barely know.”

Lea straightened and reached for a towel. Rather than wrap it around herself, though, she approached Damon and began to blot at the beads of water on his arms and neck. Half-soaked, with his trousers hanging open and his fathomless black eyes hooded, he took her breath away—same as he had the first time she’d seen him on Soffran.

“I won’t let it happen. I promise we can leave before it starts to affect you, even if we haven’t found Troy.”

Damon held her gaze for a tense moment, then took the towel from her hands and draped it over her shoulders. “I’ll hold you to that promise, Lea,” he said before he stalked out of the room.

* * * *

Mojar arrived early the next morning, sparing Lea a cursory glance when Damon let him into the apartment. “I have a transport ready for us and two guides. They’re waiting outside to pack your supplies.”

Damon nodded. He’d said nothing else about Mojar for hours and seemed as though he were trying to keep his distance from Lea. They’d slept together, but he hadn’t touched her all night. This morning, the tension between them was thick.

Frustrated, she sat silently, feigning disinterest in the discussion between Mojar and Damon until the healer produced a small, boxy piece of equipment from the pack he carried on his hip.

“This is a portable DNA scanner,” he explained while Damon looked on.

Lea craned her neck, trying to get a look at the object, which Mojar set on the low table in the center of the sitting room.

“It can scan life forms from as far away as ten meters and match their DNA to our central database.”

Damon raised a brow. “Without a physical sample?”

“Yes. Its accuracy is approximately ninety-five percent. If we encounter groups of converts, we’ll be able to pick out Mr. Gabriel if he’s among them.”

“Do we know for sure that he’s still alive?”

Mojar tilted his head at Damon’s question. “Patrols collect the dead on a daily basis. As of yesterday evening, his body has not been recovered. We should go now, and take advantage of the daylight while we have it.”

Damon gestured for Lea to follow him out into the corridor and directed his instructions to Mojar. “Send your men in. All of our supplies are ready to go.”

* * * *

Damon kept his eye on the two guards Mojar had secured for the trip. Edmun and Tak were both light-haired and muscular like all the Braxan men he’d seen so far. Their pale eyes darted over Lea’s body as she moved to take the seat Mojar assigned to her in the jungle transport.

Today, she wore the sheath he’d prepared for her with the ceremonial dagger fitting comfortably along the slender length of her right thigh. Her breasts crowded the plunging neckline of a tan shirt that almost matched her skin tone, making her appear naked above her short, black pants.

Damon didn’t like the way she boldly met the guards’ curious stares. While they would likely expect to partake of her body, she didn’t need to imply by her flirtatious expressions that she might actually enjoy it.

He’d pull her aside later and caution her. If she showed too much interest in another man, he might challenge Damon for ownership of her, and they just didn’t have time for a duel to the death with a Braxan citizen.

“We’ll begin a sweep of the perimeter to the south,” Mojar announced when they’d all been seated.

Edmun took the pilot seat of the transport, which both flew and traveled on land. In seconds they were careening away from the Citadel landing field toward the jewel-green canopy of trees that covered eighty percent of Ambrax’s land surface.

“Troy’s been here almost two months. How far do converts usually travel once they leave the Citadel?” Damon asked once the golden sands of the protected zone had fallen away beneath them.

“Not far. Those that survive their first year tend to migrate in tribal groups. There is a social structure that we’ve observed. New members live near the protected zone, though, skirting the tree line until they’re accepted into groups.”

Damon sighed and shifted in his seat. Under Mojar’s suspiciously benign gaze, he rested his hand on Lea’s thigh. “Do you mind if I ask how Troy managed to leave the Citadel with a female healer?”

Annoyance clouded the Braxan’s gaze. “He infected her mind with tales of freedom on another world. I was willing to accompany him off world for a fee of course, but Alor, my female, commanded no price. Like so many who come here, he mistook her willingness to service his sexual needs as attraction, perhaps love, and he fancied himself her savior.” Mojar’s thin lips twisted in disgust. “I assure you she did not flee willingly with him. He must have imagined he could hide in the jungle until I stopped searching for her and then escape in his ship. He underestimated the speed of the transformation.”