Shadowed: Brides of the Kindred book 8 (17 page)

“The collar,”
the second guard muttered wildly, scrambling to pull the blaster from the other guard’s clenched fist. “Never should have agreed to transport this bastard without the Hurkon collar…”

His muttering was cut off abruptly when a huge hand wrapped around his throat. The last thing he saw were two blazing white-blue eyes glaring into his. Slowly the eyes turned from the palest blue to blood red. And then they began to glow.

Then, nothing…

* * * * *

“What happened to the lights?”

Reddix blinked, trying to clear his head of the strange dream. What the hell had it been about? Some kind of prisoner being transported but they needed the Hurkon collar and didn’t have it…

“I said the lights are out—why?” Nina’s voice sounded high and frightened in the dark ship.

Reddix blinked again and realized it didn’t make a difference whether his eyes were open or closed—everything was still pitch black. He sat up with a groan. His arms and hands felt nearly dead from being cuffed over his head for hours.

“Reddix?” she said again, and he heard her coming toward him in the darkness.

“Don’t touch me,” he said sharply. “Stay right where you are—auxiliary power must have cut down to save energy.” At least he
hoped
that was what it was. If the ship’s generator was dying they were going to be in bad shape very shortly.

“I was just getting to sleep, and then the lights died.” From the sound of Nina’s voice she was pretty close by—standing right beside him. “And then I thought I heard noises,” she continued. “From outside. Do…do you think there are other, uh, people besides us here on this world?”

Reddix shrugged. “Could be. Last thing I saw on the console indicated a breathable atmosphere and Earth-normal gravity.”

“Oh.” Nina sounded more upset than ever. “Do you think…do you think they could get in?”

“No,” Reddix said shortly. “The ship’s hull is pretty solid, and I don’t think we sustained a breach during the crash.” He shifted around. “You got nothing to worry about sweetheart—although I
could
protect you better if something happened if my hands were free.”

“I don’t think so.” Nina’s voice became firmer. “I’m not going to let you use this situation to scare me into letting you go. For all I know you dimmed the lights on purpose somehow yourself. Maybe they’re voice activated or only respond to you, like the beacon.”

Reddix sighed. “That’s a nice little paranoia you’ve got going there. Look—forget about it. Just go back to be, and we’ll see what we can do in the morning.”

“Okay,” she said, but he could tell that she hadn’t moved a bit. She was still standing there right beside him in the dark. He could smell her warm, feminine scent and hear her soft breathing.

“Nina?” he said at last. “You all right?”

“I can’t sleep in there, okay?” she burst out. “It’s too big and dark and quiet, and I can hear every single noise outside the ship. And it’s cold—
really
cold. Even with all the blankets on I’m freezing.”

“Yeah, because without auxiliary power the ship doesn’t have much in the way of climate control. It’s on straight life-support now which means we get breathable air and not much else.”

“Oh,” she said again in a small voice. She still wasn’t budging, and without being able to feel her emotions, Reddix couldn’t figure out what she wanted. Then something occurred to him.

“You want to stay out here with me?” he asked.

“Yes!” She sounded infinitely relieved. “And I promise I won’t touch you—your skin, anyway. But I thought if I could sit beside you and cover both of us with a blanket it would be a lot warmer.”

Reddix wasn’t sure how to feel about this. On one hand, he knew he ought to keep her at an arm’s length—he was already way more involved with her than he ought to be. On the other, he wanted nothing more in the universe than to have her pressed close against him. He opened his mouth to send her away and heard himself say,

“Sure. Come on,”

“Oh, good.” There were some slow, careful scuffling noises, and then Nina was beside him on the floor. She threw a warm blanket over both of them and then cuddled against his side. “Is this all right?” she asked softly. “I’m not touching you, am I?”

“No,” Reddix said and it was true—she
wasn’t
touching his skin. But he could still feel the warmth of her soft, curvy body pressed against his chest. He got instantly hard, his shaft straining insistently against his flight trousers. He tried to will away his erection, but his body wasn’t listening—not that Reddix could blame it. Having her so close to him seemed to short-circuit his brain somehow.

Nina seemed oblivious to the problem she was causing. She leaned her head against his shoulder close enough that he could dip his face down and smell her hair if he wanted to. He knew he shouldn’t—that he should resist the temptation—but he couldn’t help himself. He bent his head and sniffed, inhaling deeply, breathing her in. She smelled like flowers and some other warm, sweet scent he couldn’t identify.

Nina shifted against him. “Um…are you
smelling
me?”

“Just your hair.” His voice sounded hoarse in his own ears. “It has a scent I’ve never smelled before. I thought it might be an Earth plant or—”

“It’s vanilla—Tahitian vanilla, my favorite shampoo.” She shifted again and pressed her face to his chest. “You smell good too.
Really
good. It…reminds me of all those dreams I had of you. I don’t know why, but it does.”

“I know why,” Reddix muttered. It was hard to believe, but it must be his mating scent. Though he had technically been dream sharing with Nina, he had never imagined his body would continue down that road, reacting to her as though she was his chosen mate. It ought to be impossible—his biology was all screwed up. He had an inverted Touch Sense—he could never bond a female to him even if he could stand to touch her skin-to-skin. Why was his body reacting this way to Nina, and how could he make it stop?

Well, you could ask her to get the fuck away from you,
a sarcastic little voice in his head informed him. Yes, that would be a good start…but somehow he couldn’t make himself do it. This was the closest he had been to any female in over ten years—the closest he had
wanted
to be to any female. Nina was soft and warm, and she smelled amazing. Despite his uncomfortable position with his wrists bound above his head and the way his shaft was almost painfully hard from her proximity, it was wonderful. Reddix couldn’t bear to end it.

“Why?” she asked. “Why does your scent remind me of the dreams? And why were the dreams so…disturbing?”

“Why do
you
think they were disturbing?” he murmured, answering her question with a question. “You said they were nightmares. Was that just because you were afraid of me? Or that you thought I was hurting, in pain?”

“Well…” She shifted against him again. “Not exactly. They were also…”

“Yes?” he prompted, intrigued now.

“They were…arousing.” Her voice was so low he wouldn’t have heard it if she hadn’t been right up against him. “I mean, after I woke up from those dreams I was so…”

“Wet?” he finished for her in a low growl. His shaft throbbed painfully inside his trousers. Gods, she was
killing
him here.

“Yes,” Nina whispered. She shifted again and sat up. “I shouldn’t be doing this. Shouldn’t be talking like this with you,” she said, and he wasn’t sure if she was trying to convince herself or him.

“Why not?” he asked, though he was thinking the exact same thing.

“Because you kidnapped me—I can’t trust you. You’re my captor for God’s sake…”

“I was,” Reddix said mildly. “But it looks like you’re the captor now, sweetheart.”

“Still,” she insisted. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me—I should hate you…fear you. Instead, it’s like I’ve got the worst case of Stockholm syndrome ever.”

“Stockholm syndrome?” He frowned, wishing he could see her face.

“It’s where the person who’s been kidnapped begins to identify with their kidnapper,” she explained. “Begins to feel for them, to…”

“To care for them?” Reddix asked softly.

She sighed. “Maybe I should go sleep in the other room after all.”

“If you want to.” He tried to make his voice noncommittal, as though he didn’t care what she did. But he couldn’t help wanting her to stay. To stay and lay her head on his shoulder again so he could smell her warm scent and feel her softness against him. Goddess, what was wrong with him? He shouldn’t let himself feel this way. Nina had talked about Stockholm syndrome—what was the opposite case? Where the kidnapper started feeling for the person he’d kidnapped?

“You really don’t care if I go?” Her voice was small and hurt in the darkness. When Reddix didn’t answer she sighed. “I’m an idiot. I’ll go.” She started to get up.

“Don’t,” he said, unable to help himself. “I mean…it’s warmer with you here. Don’t go.”

She seemed to hesitate—in the darkness he could sense her indecision.

“I’ll stay,” she said at last. “If you’ll talk to me.”

“We ought to be sleeping,” he objected.

“I can’t sleep. I want to talk. I want you to tell me why you took me.”

“I won’t do that. Forget it—go sleep in the other room,” he growled.

“Fine.” She sighed, ignoring his order to leave. “But at least tell me about yourself. Tell me about your problem…your RTS. Why does it keep you from touching people?”

“That’s none of your Goddess damned business,” he snarled, feeling suddenly put on the defensive.

“But I’m asking anyway.” In the darkness, her voice was calm and steady…and completely relentless. “Come on, Reddix—you owe me some answers.”

Reddix felt himself breaking. She was right, and he couldn’t deny it—or her—any longer. If he was going to keep her and if he was ever going to win her trust, he had to give—at least a little.

He sighed. “Damn it…all right. All right, I’ll tell you…some.”

“Good. That’s better than nothing.” She leaned against him again, snuggling close so that her head was right under his chin. “Start talking.”

Reddix sighed. He didn’t
want
to talk about his RTS but not for the usual reasons—the humiliation of admitting what he was, and even worse, what he was lacking. No, the reason he didn’t want to talk about it was because he had a superstitious fear that the minute he explained his condition to Nina the blessed numbness that seemed to have enveloped him would end.

He knew it was ridiculous, but he was beginning to like this Earth girl he’d kidnapped—
more
than like her if he was honest with himself. In the short time he’d spent with her he’d had the longest, most complex conversations he’d had in a decade. He didn’t want that to end. Didn’t want to start trying to shield himself from her feelings. Didn’t want to start hating her for something she couldn’t help—the simple act of having emotions.

Still, she was listening expectantly, and he knew he had to go on. She was right—he owed her at least a partial explanation of why he had taken her, even if he couldn’t tell her what he had planned for her. The swamp witch…Goddess, could he really hand Nina over to that evil bitch? Reddix tried to push the idea out of his mind. Instead, he concentrated on telling her just enough…without telling too much.

“RTS…Reverse Touch Syndrome…only affects males of the Touch Kindred and usually only those with the Star Clan lineage,” he began. “I had no idea I had it until about ten years ago…”

He went through the whole explanation—skimming some over the more painful parts—but enough to give her a general idea of why he was the way he was. Nina listened quietly, asking the occasional question, and he wondered again what she was thinking—what she was
feeling.
It was still strange to have to wonder that about anyone. Though he didn’t miss being prodded and poked by someone else’s emotions, Reddix found that in Nina’s case at least, he desperately wanted to know.

“Wow,” she said at last when he finished. “So you feel everything everyone else feels but in a physical way, not just inside?”

“Normally. I’m numb right now—don’t know why. But I can’t ‘feel’ you,” Reddix admitted.
And hope I never do,
he added silently. It was foolish to voice that hope aloud—tempting fate—so he kept it to himself.

“I guess that’s a good thing. But…what if I was feeling happy? Aren’t positive emotions—?”

“It’s all bad—fucking invasive and miserable,” he said. “And even if it wasn’t—would you want to wear somebody else’s happiness all day like a hot, itchy coat you couldn’t take off?”

“I guess not,” Nina said thoughtfully. “And so…that’s why you didn’t want me to touch you?”

“It’s not that I don’t want you to,” he said gruffly. “It’s that I can’t stand it. If the numbness wears off…
when
it wears off, touching makes it worse. So much fucking worse.”

“But…not to be touched, even casually, for ten years. To hide yourself away, avoiding everyone, even the people you love because you can’t stand to be around them. That’s so…”

“Sad? Pathetic?” he asked harshly.

“Lonely.” Nina cuddled closer to him, nestling against his side. “So terribly lonely. Oh, Reddix…”

There was a soft sound in the darkness, and after a moment, he realized what she was doing.

“Are you crying?” he asked uncertainly. “For
me?”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I don’t mean to be emotional. It’s just late, and I’m tired, and what you’re saying…it’s so sad. I just…I can’t imagine living like that.”

“You get used to it,” he said shortly but inside he was touched. She cared. Goddess knew why after what he had put her through, but Nina actually
cared
about him. No one other than Minda had shed tears for his sorry plight before. Reddix remembered the way his little sister had cried when she found him in his room, the bloody blade in his hands…
No.
He pushed the memory away. He didn’t want to think about anything but Nina, of the way she felt pressed against him, of the sweet scent of her hair.