Found (16 page)

He pushed the cart outside into the hallway
and then went back to the bathroom, intending to take a shower
before going to bed. He frowned when he saw that someone had run a
glira
bath and then let it go cold in the tub. Had Lauren
done that? And why hadn’t she emptied the tub when she was
finished? Now the
glira
had congealed into a solid lump
which would have to be cut into chunks and removed manually rather
than washing down the drain. Well, Xairn decided wearily, he would
let Slk’s servants deal with it in the morning. Just now he felt
incredibly tired.

He took a quick shower, noting that the wound
Lauren had doctored was healing well. Drying off, he dumped his
clothes into the cleaning cabinet. They took only a moment and he
pulled them out fresh and clean when a low chime sounded. He
bundled them under his arm and, wearing only a towel, went back
into the bedroom.

Lauren was still asleep, the expression on
her lovely features serene and peaceful. Xairn looked longingly at
the empty side of the bed and then turned his attention to the
couch. It was far too short for his long frame and the cushions
looked lumpy. Still, he had told Lauren he would sleep there and he
intended to keep his word.

Sighing, he settled himself on the cushions
only to jump up again a moment later when something poked him
sharply in the ass. Xairn pressed the cushion gingerly with his
fingers and gave a muffled curse when the cushion pushed back.
Flarns. The damn thing is stuffed with flarns!

The finger-long insects also known as
“massage bugs” were native to this solar system and were often used
in high-end furnishings. They lived just between the upholstery and
the padding and poked and prodded anyone who sat on them giving a
“massage” that many claimed to enjoy.

Xairn was not a
flarn
enthusiast. And
even if he had been, he had no desire to be “massaged” all night
when he was trying to sleep. Sighing heavily, he looked around the
cramped room. He could take the floor, of course. It probably
wasn’t much harder than the sleeping platform he’d used his entire
life aboard the Fathership. The Scourge didn’t believe in luxuries
and lived a Spartan existence filled with hardship and self-denial.
Well, all except for the AllFather, but Xairn didn’t want to think
about his father now. Some things were best left forgotten.

Instead he looked at the bed again. Lauren
was resting so peacefully he was certain he wouldn’t disturb her if
he just lay down on the very edge of the empty side. And he knew he
could trust himself not to harm her in such a helpless state. It
was only when she was awake and touching him, looking at him with
those gorgeous amber eyes, that the disturbing urges rose within
him.

It was late and he was bone weary. For days
he’d been running, fighting, and bargaining, trying to keep Lauren
safe and find a way to get her back to her planet in one piece. He
was sure she wouldn’t mind letting him share her sleeping
accommodations, just this once.

I’ll sleep on top of the covers,
he
told himself, going around to the empty side of the bed and pulling
his under shorts back on.
To make certain nothing can
happen.
Not that he thought anything
would
happen, but
if Lauren should wake up in the middle of the night and decide to
reach for him, he wanted to have some barrier, however flimsy,
between them.

He settled carefully on the empty side of the
gellafoam mattress, keeping an eye on Lauren as he did. She shifted
slightly in her sleep and murmured something that sounded like his
name, but her eyes stayed closed and she didn’t wake even when he
lay all the way down.

When he was sure she wasn’t going to wake up,
Xairn breathed a sigh of relief and allowed himself to relax
completely.
Thank all the gods that ever were the sleeping
platform isn’t filled with flarns as well!
With a good night’s
rest, he was certain he’d be a new male in the morning. Both
literally and figuratively, because in the morning he would see
exactly what effect Lauren’s DNA had had on him—and his on her.
Please,
he thought, turning his head to study her exquisite
profile.
Please don’t let her be hurt by my genes. Don’t let her
be polluted by the evil in my blood.

At least she looked the same so far. Still
lovely. Still pure and undefiled. Xairn prayed she would stay that
way, though he hardly knew who he was praying to.

“Lights, dim,” he whispered hoarsely. At
once, the room was plunged into shadow. Because Scourge had
excellent night vision, he could still see her, but her features
were muted and indistinct. She was still beautiful, though, still
Lauren.

Without thinking, Xairn reached for her hand,
the one that was lying on top of the covers. Taking it in his own,
he laced their fingers together just as Lauren had when she was
holding his hand earlier. As he squeezed her fingers gently, he
felt a tingling throughout his entire body. Was it her DNA having
an effect on him, changing him forever? Xairn was too tired to
care.

With a deep sigh, he closed his eyes and let
sleep take him.

Somewhere in the dark reaches of space a pair
of red-on-black eyes opened and a low, frustrated hiss filled the
air.

The AllFather sat up, his skeletal frame
still dripping with the nutrient slime of his personal pit. He
never ingested food or drink, preferring to take physical
nourishment through his tightly-stretched, paper-thin skin. It was
emotional sustenance that he truly craved—that he could not live
without. And now that Xairn had run and taken the human girl with
him, the AllFather had none.

“Ssstupid fool.” Rising, he stepped from the
pit and began to pace. The greenish slime, impregnated with the
poisonous, tainted metal at the core of the Scourge home world,
slid from his body and splattered on the metal flooring.

Having recovered with some difficulty from
the confrontation with the damned Kindred deity, the AllFather was
back aboard the Fathership and heading for the Maw Cluster. He
could feel that Xairn and the girl had gone there—could sense them
like two pinpricks of light far away on a distant horizon. Their
traces were faint but he could follow them, sniffing out the
familiar scents like an
urlich
hot on a scent.

Or he had been able to until just a few
moments ago.

Closing his burning eyes, the AllFather cast
his dark net again, flinging his consciousness out into the
blackness of space like a poisonous spider flinging a strand of
toxic silk.

But there was nothing. The lights had
disappeared, the traces had vanished.

Where could they have gone? Were they dead
somewhere, the flimsy little ship Xairn had stolen crashed into the
side of a stray asteroid?

The AllFather felt no sorrow at the
thought—only rage. Rage that his only son and best source of
nourishment should have escaped him so completely.

But he didn’t truly believe that Xairn was
dead, or Lauren either. His son had developed a ridiculous
fascination with the human girl. Knowing him, he would go to great
lengths to protect her. Just as he had tried to protect the common
urlich
which he had taken for a pet. The AllFather well
remembered how foolishly attached the boy had become to it—how
upset he had been at the dumb beast’s demise.

But why the Maw Cluster? There was nothing of
interest there—nothing but the thuggish splicers, constantly
carving each other up and recombining the DNA into different
configurations. Always…

The AllFather stopped pacing abruptly. His
long, skeletal hands squeezed into fists.
Of course. Their
DNA—Xairn has taken her there to get their DNA changed. And he’s
succeeded—their signatures are completely different now. No wonder
I have lost sight of them!

The AllFather threw back his head and let out
a long, hissing howl that echoed through the entire ship. Far down
the bleak, empty corridors of the Fathership, the
urlich
heard him in their kennels and took up the cry.

“Gone!” the AllFather screamed, as his
personal guard came running to find out what was wrong. “He’sss
taken her away and changed her. They are gone forever from my
sssight.
Gone!”

Lauren woke suddenly from a horrible dream
about a pair of big red scissors cutting off her hand.
No, not
my hand—it was my finger. My pinky finger.

She raised her left hand to her face and
examined it anxiously but everything looked normal. Didn’t it? On
closer examination she wasn’t so sure. Her pinky finger
looked…strange somehow. Lauren couldn’t put her finger on it—no pun
intended—but when she touched the tip of her pinky finger to her
thumb it tingled. Also, the nail on it was a lot shorter than the
nails on her other fingers. Lauren wasn’t a nail biter and she
didn’t remember breaking a nail, so what was going on?

Don’t be silly,
she told herself
uneasily, turning her hand this way and that to examine the suspect
pinky.
It was just a bad dream. Get over it and move on.

Feeling more awake, she looked around the
room for Xairn. He’d said he was going to sleep on the couch across
from the bed, but it was empty. Then she became aware that someone
was in bed beside her, breathing deeply and obviously asleep.

Blinking, Lauren turned over to face him. He
was lying on top of the covers but sometime during the night he’d
wrapped the long trailing edge of the bedspread over his big frame
and nothing was visible now except his sleek black hair. She
wondered why he never took it out of the club he wore it in at the
base of his neck—not even to sleep. But maybe he’d been too tired
to bother last night.

Poor baby. He’s had a hard time lately and
all because of me.
Unable to resist the impulse, Lauren reached
out and tenderly stroked his hair. He stirred a little but she
didn’t move her hand. Instead, she caressed him again, letting her
fingers trail down inside the cover to cup his rough cheek. Her
heart yearned for the man she was touching so gently.
He’s so
conflicted inside. So wounded. If only he would let me love him,
heal him—

“What in the seven hells do you think you’re
doing?” a familiar voice demanded. And then the man beside her sat
up and threw off the covers in one fluid movement.

“I was just…” The words died on Lauren’s
lips. The voice sounded like Xairn’s but the man in bed with her
was a complete and total stranger.

“What is it?” he said, frowning at her. “Why
are you staring at me that way?”

“Oh my God.” Lauren’s voice came out in a
weak whisper. “Who…who are you?”

“What do you mean, who am I? I’m Xairn.”

“No you’re not.” Although, his features
did
look like Xairn’s. They were still had the proud, stern
cast that reminded her of a noble savage or some classical statue
come to life.

But instead of the pearly gray shade she’d
become used to, this man had smooth tan skin several shades lighter
than her own mocha brown. And the burning red-on-black eyes, which
had so frightened her at first, had been replaced by normal human
eyes.

Well, not normal exactly—his irises were a
pure pale shade of blue-green that reminded Lauren of the clear
waters of a tropical ocean.
Gorgeous,
she couldn’t help
thinking.
He looks like a freaking model.

And as much as she was growing to love him,
“gorgeous” was not a word she would have normally applied to Xairn.
He was rough around the edges, with more than a little bit of the
beast about him. Not this handsome Romeo sitting in bed beside her,
wearing nothing but a pair of tight-fitting boxer brief looking
things.

A sudden thought occurred to her. “You’re not
some kind of clone are you? Something they send to replace Xairn?
Because I don’t care how hot you are, you’re not him. I want him
back—where is he?”

“I’m telling you, Lauren, it’s
me.”
He
ran a hand experimentally over his face. “It must be the effects of
your DNA on me. Do I really look that different?”

“The DNA exchange—of course!” Between her bad
dream and the shock of waking up beside a “stranger,” Lauren had
completely forgotten that they’d had their DNA altered. So it
was
Xairn after all. But Xairn as she’d never imagined him.
“You look completely different,” she said. “Well, not
completely—you’re the same size and shape and your features are the
same. But your skin and eye color—”

“Let me see.” He was already out of bed and
running for the bathroom. Lauren caught up to him as he was
standing in front of the viewer, examining his new skin and
eyes.

“I
am
changed,” he murmured, running
his hands over his face wonderingly.

“But I’m not.” Lauren looked at her
reflection beside his and frowned. “Look at me—I look exactly the
same.”

“Which is at is should be,” Xairn said,
looking down at her. “I asked Slk to leave your physical appearance
intact and make the smallest change to your DNA possible,
remember?”

“I remember.” But Lauren couldn’t help
feeling disappointed. “It’s easy to see what you got from me,” she
pointed out. “But what did I get from you when Slk rearranged our
DNA?”

He shrugged. “It might be something so tiny
as to make no difference. You may never know—pray you don’t. I have
nothing you want.”

“You’re wrong about that,” Lauren said
quietly.

“What?” He frowned at her. “You’re not saying
you
wanted
red eyes or gray skin, are you? That you wanted
to look like I did before this change?”

“What I
want
is to know that there’s a
little piece of you inside me—the same way it’s obvious there’s a
little piece of me inside you,” Lauren said stubbornly. “I don’t
see why that’s so hard to understand.”