Phantom of the Wind (25 page)

“If I know one thing about the man, it’s that he never does anything without a proper motive,” Quinn allowed.

“My heart is aching for him, Phantom,” she said. “He has gone through so much and to lose the woman he loved…”

“I feel the same,” her husband said.

“We have to find him a woman,” she stated.

“Ah well, I don’t know about that,” Quinn said.

“He seemed a bit enamored of the Amazeen.”

Quinn jerked. “
Lhiannan
, no! Don’t even joke about such a thing!”

She reached down to caress him with her free hand. “What’s this?” she asked, deliberately trying to get his mind off Shanee Iphito.

Quinn knew what she was about. “It’s my horn of plenty,” he said with a sniff. “Wanna blow it?”

Their eyes met then she let go of his hand and wriggled down on the bed, positioning herself between her husband’s thighs. She cupped his balls and began gently massaging him, weighing them in her palm. “What are these?”

“My bag of nuts,” he said. “Wanna nibble?”

“Are they salty?”

“Try them and see,” he said in a gruff voice.

Kendall wrapped her hand around his staff as she continued to lightly squeeze his sack. She used her elbows to nudge his thighs farther apart.

“And you call me an evil man,” he whispered.

She lowered her head and licked the top of his captive penis, the tip of her tongue flicking across the opening. Quinn drew in a ragged breath, his hips arching upward of their own accord. Taking him into her mouth, she slid her lips all the way to the base of his cock, drawing on that thick rod, increasing the pressure around it as she suckled him.

“By the gods,
Lhiannan
,” he said. “You have the sweetest mouth.”

She looked up at him and saw his eyes were closed and his hands gripping the pillow beneath his head. Grinning to herself for she thought him too controlled by far, she slid her hand from his balls, and up along the creased of his hard rump until the tip of her middle finger was pressed lightly at the puckered rim of his anus. She watched his eyes pop open and his head lift so he could look down at her.

“What are you…?” he began but stopped, going absolutely still as she inserted her finger into the creased little hole, going as deep as the finger’s length could travel. “Kendall!” he gasped.

She began a concerted effort of dragging her mouth up and down his cock, her finger gliding in and out his rectum—mouth up, finger driving deep—finger pulling almost out, mouth sliding all the way to the base of his rod. She could hear him panting, feel him trying to writhe beneath her but she clamped her elbows on his thighs to hold him down. His hands were no longer gripping the pillow but were buried in her hair, aiding her as she raised and lowered her head as she suckled him.

“Oh my God,” she heard him say, and then his entire body clenched and he came hard, his cum gushing down her throat. His penis was hot and pulsed like a nova between her lips. He was dragging in breaths and his hands had stilled in her hair, holding her scalp tightly as the last flicker of movement arched his cock and the last little spurt of liquid eased down her throat.

Kendall swallowed then licked him clean, her tongue swirling over the head of his shaft. She gently removed her finger and slid from the bed, going into the bathroom to relieve herself and wash her hands. She slipped on her nightgown and left the bathroom. When she came back, she saw he had dragged on his black silk pajama bottoms and was curled in a fetal position, a smile on his face, sound asleep.

Shaking her head, she climbed into bed beside him and watched him as he slept. He was an uncommonly handsome man with the longest eyelashes she had ever seen on a male. Darkly smudged against his cheeks, she wanted to plant a kiss on those feathery spikes. Her gaze wandered over his sexily tousled hair, the fullness of his mouth, the cleft in his chin, the twin dimples in his cheeks and her heart soared. He was her man, her lover, her husband, and she loved him so much it actually made her hurt.

He had asked if she had forgiven him. Kendall knew she had. He was everything she wanted and everything she needed. He was…

Gone!

Kendall lay there for a moment—too stunned to react. Slowly she sat up, her heart pounding, her lips parted. He had disappeared right before her eyes, the sheet still imprinted with his weight.

“Quinn?” she questioned, reaching out to touch his side of the bed. The place was warm to the touch. “Quinn?”

She knew he hadn’t simply vanished into mist as he was able to do. He’d been snatched right out from beneath her eyes and the gods only knew where he’d been taken.

“Quinn!” she screamed.

* * * * *

0305 CMT

Ayo was pacing the bridge, his black face glistening with sweat. He was angry but there was a hint of desperation in his black gaze. “We detected nothing,” he told Paton. “Absolutely nothing!”

“Neither did we,” Paton stated. “Whatever technology they used to take him, it was stealth based. Not a single blip showed on our screens and no intruder alert went off.” He frowned. “That’s too gods-be-damned much like our Maze for my comfort.”

“By the gods I hope you have everyone secure here now!” Ayo said. “Is your crew wearing interceptors so they can’t be plucked off this ship?” He looked pointedly at Kendall.

“Aye,” Paton said then his shoulders sagged. “We are now.”

Kendall was sitting huddled in Quinn’s command chair, her knees drawn up, Munchkin in her arms. The Elfinish was purring so loudly to comfort her humanoid companion everyone on the bridge could hear her.

“The
Sekkeen
is steaming toward us,” Shannon reported. “As are the
Sangunar
and the
Saoirse.
King Ruan and the Tiogar are finishing up what they started and will be joining us as soon as possible.”

“Where the hell could he have gone?” Ayo demanded.

“He could be anywhere,” Paton replied.

“He’s on the
Raptor
,” Kendall said. “I know he is.”

“Well, if he is,” Fenella said, “Shanee will do everything in her power to protect him.”

“If she can,” Kendall said. Her eyes were swollen, her nose red from crying.

“We have to think positive thoughts,” Paton said.

“Cengusian rubbish!” Ayo said. “I say think murderous thoughts for when I get my hands on the man who took the Phantom, I will break his neck!”

“They could be torturing him,” Kendall said, fresh tears falling down her pale cheeks.

Ayo and Paton exchanged a quick look then Ayo went to hunker down in front of Kendall. The dark man put a hand on her leg. “Why would they do that, sweeting?” he asked in a gentle bass voice. “What purpose would it serve?”

“He’s made a bad enemy, Ayo,” Kendall said. “Someone who meant to capture him at all costs. Whoever it is won’t just toss the infamous Phantom into a cell and throw away the key. He will want to make Quinn suffer.”

“Don’t think like that,” Ayo said. “We’ll get him back. On my honor as a Necromanian prince, I swear to you we will.”

“One way or another?” she asked, her lips trembling.

The dark man’s face fell. “Aye, wench. One way or another.” He pushed to his feet and turned around, but not before Kendall saw the tears glistening in the Necroman’s eyes.

“The
Sangunar
is hailing us, Mr. Paton,” Douglas said.

“On screen.”

King Gabriel Leveche—the legendary Lord Savidos—appeared. Beside him was his brother Raoul Breva. “Has there been any word on Quinn?” Leveche asked.

“None,” Paton reported.

“Well, I don’t imagine we can be expecting a ransom demand,” Leveche said.

“No, Your Majesty, I suppose not,” Paton agreed.

“Do you have any notion which ship might have taken him?”

“Lady Kendall believes it was the
Raptor
, the StarDestroyer from Riezell that came after him the first time. I believe she may be right.”

“All right,” Leveche said. “We’ll start looking for that bitch of a ship in Alpha Quadrant. Cosaint, Drae and Ghrian can take Beta, Gamma and Delta when they get here. The last I heard from the Burgon, he was scouting around Uigingeach and Admiral Ben-Alkazar was headed for
an Ghearmáin
.”

“We are grateful to you, Your Majesty,” Paton said.

“He’s our friend too, Paton,” Raoul Breva pointed out.

The screen went black and the stillness was so disquieting several crewmen cleared their throats to break the silence.

Ayo threw his hands into the air. “I’m going back to my ship. If you hear anything—even a blip!—contact me at once.”

Paton nodded. He was chewing on a fingernail, his nervousness there for everyone to see.

Kendall was staring at the floor beside the command chair. Munchkin was licking her companion gently under the chin but Kendall seemed unaware of what her cat was doing.

It was just after 0300 but none of the crew of the
Lhong Shee
were in their beds. Each was at his or her duty station, praying for word of their captain.

* * * * *

0436 CMT

Swish.

Quinn closed his eyes to the repetitious sound that was driving him insane. He was lying on his back on a cold stone slab with his wrists and ankles spread-eagled to the slab by what felt like thin, heated wire. Even the slightest movement of his limbs brought excruciating pain as whatever shackled him sank into his flesh. He could feel his blood running from each wound and pooling beneath him. The darkened room in which he was being held was as frigid as the arctic climes of Virago and his bare chest, arms and feet stung from the cold. He had to keep his jaws tightly clenched to keep from shivering so badly.

Swish.

Above him was the worst of the torments being inflicted on him for that one was diabolical and designed to twist and warp the mind before the agony of it ever reached his body. He couldn’t watch the thing, but he was reminded of it every moment for the sound had slithered its way into his mind and was slowly taking him where he had never wanted to be. He couldn’t block out the sound, and with the sound came an unbidden vision of the torture device even though he was not looking at it with his eyes.

Swish.

“Will you sign the papers now?”

The disembodied voice belonged to the man sitting across the room from Quinn. That man had been there from the moment Quinn had come to, struggling against two burly guards who were lashing him to the slab. Even though Quinn couldn’t see him, he had etched the bastard’s face into his memory, could find him no matter where he might try to hide.

Swish.

“With every sweep of the clock, the blade drops another millimeter,” the man said, satisfaction evident in his voice. “Don’t wait too long, Quinn.”

“Go to hell,” Quinn snarled, and despite his resolve opened his eyes to stare at the blade glinting in the light of the four tall candlesticks that gave off the only light in the room.

The crescent-shaped blade was attached to a long rod that swung from a massive wooden beam. With an edge so razor-sharp it could barely be seen as the pendulum swung slowly above the Phantom from well past his head to beyond his feet, the hideous music of the passing of the horns of the blade as it sliced through the cold air set its victim’s nerves on edge.

“It will take an hour, maybe longer before you will feel its first kiss,” the man in the shadows said. “I imagine the first part of you to experience that dubious pleasure will be your cock since—at least from the angle at which I’m sitting—seems to be the closest to the crescent.”

A shudder ran through Quinn. With each pass of the blade he could feel the air being displaced around it. The ungodly sound of its course swinging over the length of him caused the cogs in the teeth of the device to click, bringing the edge of that razor-thin blade that much closer to his helpless body.

Swish.

“All you need do is sign the papers and I will still the machine.”

The bastard made it sound so simple, Quinn thought as moisture formed in his gaze to blur the long, slow process of the pendulous death sweeping over him. He was not a coward—or at least had never known himself to be one—but the passage of the horror perching over him was proving to be more than his mind could stand. It seemed that the lower the blade came toward him, the faster the speed of the descent and the more often he heard its swish and clink.

“Suit yourself,” the man said on a long sigh. “I’m quite content to sit here and watch it slice you in half from crotch to throat. A shallow nick here, a long cut there. What’s a little agony between rivals, eh, Quinn?”

Quinn tried to blot out the man’s voice as well as the song of the pendulum, but he could do neither. His heart was pounding like a drum in his chest and even the minutest of moves on his part drove the wire banding his wrists and ankles deeper into his flesh. He could not struggle without doing himself great damage, possibly amputating a limb, and so he lay as still as he could although every instinct screamed at him to fight.

When he had first seen his tormentor, he had known this man was his worst enemy. He had read the knowledge in the cold gray eyes that were grinning down at him. There was hatred in that smile, lethal intent and a promise of agony to come.