Shadowed: Brides of the Kindred book 8 (5 page)

Prisoners they no longer be

When one is healed

The other is free.”

“What?” Reddix stared at her, wondering if she was having some kind of a seizure. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Xandra’s eyelids fluttered, and she suddenly looked normal again. Or as normal as a swamp witch with pale white skin, yellow eyes, and fingers with too many joints could look, anyway.

“I beg your pardon, my dear Reddix. Where were we?”

He frowned. “I was asking
why
you’re willing to help me in the first place.”

“Oh. Because in this deal, I can’t lose.” The witch patted his cheek, or tried to—Reddix jerked away before she could touch him.
“Tsk tsk,
so skittish.” She shook her head. “Anyway, as I was saying, I
can’t
lose. If you return bringing the girl with the healing hands and I cure you of your RTS, I’ll have done a favor—one which I expect to be repaid—for the future Clan Overlord.”

“And if I don’t?” he growled.

Her yellow eyes glowed. “Then I’ll get to watch as the Clans that threw me out clash in a bloody civil war. I’ll get to watch as the Touch Kindred and all they love
burn
.”

“Burn…as they burn…burn to ashes…”

“Reddix? Reddix, wake up.” There was a sound like snapping above his face, and then someone patted his cheek, gently but firmly.

Reddix flinched away from the touch instinctively. Despite the briefness of the contact, he could feel the concern of whoever had touched him like some warm, sticky syrup dribbling over his cheek.
Ugh.

Abruptly, he was awake, and the memory of his encounter with the witch dissolved. Only the stinging of the tiny
lthss
embedded in the flesh of his wrist remained. He shuttered. Gods, of all things to dream of…

“Can you hear me?”

“‘Course I can hear you. I’m not fucking deaf.”

Reddix forced his eyes open and saw a concerned face—a male with ice blue eyes and white-blond hair—leaning over, staring at him.

He immediately felt naked. Where was his hood? He reached for something to cover his face but the other male stopped him.

“Don’t. Your hood is safe, and I’m the only one here. I won’t touch you again except to examine you, and that will be very minimal, I promise.”

“Who are you?” Reddix licked his lips with a tongue that felt like sandpaper. “Where am I? What happened?”

The male smiled, and Reddix felt his amusement, tart-sweet at the tip of his tongue.

“One question at a time,” he said. “I’m Sylvan, one of the physicians aboard the Mother Ship, and you’re in a private room in the Med Center.”

Reddix frowned. “You still didn’t tell me what happened.”

“You fell and bumped your head.” Sylvan frowned. “According to your friend, Saber, you lost consciousness well before that, though. Has this happened to you before?”

“Once or twice,” Reddix said before he thought about it. Immediately, the other male’s concern increased, making him even more uncomfortable. Damn it, why hadn’t he lied? “I mean, not really, no,” he amended quickly.

The blond physician frowned. “Mmm-hmm.” Clearly, he didn’t believe Reddix. “Saber tells me you have RTS.”

“Yeah, but it’s under control.” Reddix started to sit up. “Can I go now?”

“Not so fast.” Sylvan pushed him gently but firmly back down on the exam bed, and Reddix tried not to flinch from his touch. “How long have your symptoms been this advanced?”

Reddix glared at him, but the other male simply looked back patiently. “We can stay here all day if you like. Or you can tell me what I want to know and go back to your guest suite a lot sooner.” His voice dropped to a gentler tone. “I just want to help you.”

“Nobody can help me,” Reddix growled. “But if you have to know, my symptoms have been getting worse ever since Saber left Tarsia. As second in the line of succession, I’ve had to take on a lot of his duties. That means more public appearances, more council meetings, more of
everything
to do with other people.”

“And that forced contact makes your symptoms worse?”

“Having all those people staring at me,
feeling
about me, their emotions constantly Touching me…” Reddix shook his head. “Let’s just say it’s no fucking picnic.”

“Hmm.” Sylvan nodded. Instead of pity or disgust, Reddix was surprised to feel the other male’s curiosity, marching like a line of insects along his skin. “And what are they feeling?” he asked.

“What do you
think
they’re feeling?” Reddix snapped. “I’m an oddity to them—a freak. A freak who might wind up ruling them if anything happens to Saber. Now
there’s
an idea that stirs up strong emotions—none of them very Goddess damned pleasant, I might add.”

“And the more emotion you’re forced to endure, the stronger your symptoms get. So how long have you been blacking out?”

Reddix ran a hand through his hair, which was long and shaggy, in desperate need of a cut. “Just for the past solar month or two. It never lasts for long—I wake up feeling a little weak, but it passes. I’ll be fine—can I go now?”

“Actually, you
won’t
be fine.” Sylvan’s ice blue eyes were filled with concern—so much so that a sticky film of it seemed to coat Reddix’s skin.

“Please don’t,” he said thickly. “Don’t
feel
for me. If you have something to say, just say it.”

Sylvan nodded. “All right. Reddix, I hate to tell you this, but the symptoms you’re experiencing are serious—
very
serious. I believe that your RTS has progressed to the point where it may very well be fatal.”

Reddix took a deep breath and blew it out. “Yeah, tell me something I don’t know.”

Sylvan looked surprised. “You knew?”

“You don’t get a disease like RTS and not research the hell out of it,” Reddix said. “I’ve looked for years for any kind of hope—any kind of a cure. But I also learned what could happen if it went too far. I know the blackouts aren’t a good sign.” He shrugged. “But what can I do?”

“Slow down for a while,” Sylvan advised. “Stop the public appearances and council meetings. Take a break—your system needs a rest before it completely overloads.”

Reddix shook his head. “Can’t do it. Now that Saber is gone and isn’t coming back, there’s no one else. I have to keep going.”

Sylvan frowned. “If you do, you’ll die. The next time you black out, you might not wake up.”

“You think I don’t know that?” Reddix demanded, irritated by the worry and disapproval he felt coming from the other male. “But stopping isn’t an option. Besides, you don’t have to worry about me. I’ll be fine—I need to get back.”

“Tarsia will keep turning without you for a little while longer,” Sylvan said gently. “I want to keep you here in the Mother Ship for at least one solar week—you can spare that much time, surely.”

Reddix frowned. “I’ll give you two days.”

“Four days,” Sylvan said grimly. “And that’s my final offer. I won’t clear you to fly until then.”

“Clear me to fly?” Reddix frowned. “What the hell are you talking about? I came here in my own ship, and I’ll leave in it whenever I want to.”

“Oh, no you won’t.” There was a steely glint in Sylvan’s pale blue eyes. “You had a loss of consciousness, which means you need a physician’s permission to take off from the Mother Ship. You’re not going anywhere until I say so. Keep talking, and I’ll keep you here for a month—that’s really what you need to heal. A month of isolation with no one’s emotions intruding on you, forcing your system to react.”

Reddix glared at the other male, but he could feel the physician’s resolve like a cold steel rod pressed to his spine. Clearly, there was no changing Sylvan’s mind. Well, fine—he hadn’t been planning to go straight back to Tarsia anyway. He had unfinished business down on the planet. But what about the girl? When would he start to dream of her, and how long would it take to find her?

“Reddix? Do you understand?” Sylvan asked, and Reddix realized the other male had been waiting patiently for an answer.

“Fine,” he said at last, running a hand through his hair again. “I’ll call home and tell them I’m staying here to try and reason with Saber. Not that it’ll do any good.”

“Good. But that’s as much contact as I want you to have with anyone,” Sylvan said sternly. “After you make the call, I want you to go straight to bed. I want you to rest and relax and see no one—not even Saber—for the entire time. And report to me if you have another blackout immediately—are we clear?”

Reddix balled his hands into fists but somehow managed to keep from punching the other male.

“Are you this pushy with all your patients?”

“Only the ones looking to commit suicide.” Sylvan’s pale eyes snapped.

Reddix frowned. “Suicide? Look, just because my RTS has gotten worse, doesn’t mean I
want
to check out.”

“Don’t you?” Sylvan frowned pointedly. “Then stop pushing yourself so hard.”

“Excuse me, Dr. Sylvan?” The door opened, and a pretty young nurse with short black hair and brown eyes looked into the room. “I’m sorry to interrupt but I—oh…” She trailed off as her eyes caught and held on Reddix.

Once again he felt naked—completely helpless and vulnerable. Pinned by her gaze like a bug to a card. Whoever had taken his hood had also removed his shirt, the better to examine him, he supposed. But for whatever reason, it left him bare. He could feel the nurse’s gaze wandering over his naked face and torso, could feel the exact moment her intense interest turned to lust. The emotion coated his skin in a layer of cool slime, making his stomach churn and his muscles clench with disgust.

“Hello there,” she murmured, trying to make eye contact with him. “I heard there was a Touch Kindred in here, but I didn’t realize you’d be so handsome.”

“My hood. Where’s my hood?” Reddix looked away from her, feeling violated and hating himself for the stupid, helpless emotion. Certainly any other male being eyed by an attractive female would have loved it and probably returned her coy glance with a frankly interested one of his own. Instead, Reddix felt like he might be sick. Her emotions were so strong, so Goddess damned
invasive.
The cool slime of her lust coating his skin was like a jacket he couldn’t take off. Her desire stung like a swarm of Tarsian hornets, stabbing and poking at him, peeling him raw…

“Nurse,” Sylvan snapped, apparently sensing what was happening. “This is a private consultation. Leave at once and remember to be more professional in the future.”

The nurse gave Sylvan a surprised glance—clearly she wasn’t used to him talking to her in such a fashion. Then she shrugged and said, “Yes, Doctor,” before shutting the door.

“I’m sorry about that.” Sylvan rummaged in a small storage locker and handed Reddix his shirt and the dark green hood he wore almost constantly now. “Here, put these back on, you’ll need them. The Med Station is full of unmated Earth girls—a new training program we have going on at the moment.”

Reddix groaned. “I can see getting out of here is going to be fun.”

“You’ll manage,” Sylvan said. “Is it always this bad for you?”

“Worse with females,” Reddix admitted, sitting up and pulling the shirt over his head. He slid off the bed and stood up, flexing his spine. “Can I go now?”

Sylvan nodded. “But remember, I want you on complete isolation and bed rest. And call me if there are any more blackouts.”

“Fine,” Reddix growled, though he had no intention whatsoever of seeing Sylvan again.

“All right.” Sylvan sighed. “I hope you know I’m not trying to be officious—I just want to see you healed.” He started to hold out a hand and then drew back. “I won’t offer to shake your hand.”

“Thank you.” Reddix felt a surge of unwilling gratitude. At least this doctor understood his affliction. “For saving me the trouble of refusing and offending you.”

Concern filled Sylvan’s eyes. “When was the last time you touched anyone willingly?”

Reddix looked away. “Don’t remember.”

Sylvan shook his head. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Reddix said flatly. “I don’t want to feel your pity
or
your sympathy. For just once in my life, I don’t want to feel
anything.”

“Then don’t,” Sylvan said firmly. “Go to your suite and go to bed. Rest and try to relax.”

“I’ll do my best.”

“You do that.” Sylvan looked at him gravely. “Let your body heal itself, Reddix. Before it’s too late.”

“I will,” Reddix lied. He was going to bed all right—he was beat and needed at least one good night’s rest in order to be in top shape. But as soon as his battered body and mind were ready, he was going down to Earth to find her—to find the girl whose blood could set him free.

Not so he could bond with her, though. All his life he’d heard other Kindred warriors speak with longing about finding their perfect female—the one soul who could complete them.

Reddix took a much colder view. This female—this Earth girl—was nothing more than a means to an end. He didn’t want her love or compassion or trust. He didn’t want to hold her and look deep into her eyes or rouse her body to pleasure with his touch. He had no interest in building a life with her or giving her sons. It was her blood he was interested in and nothing else.

And he would do anything he had to in order to get it.

Chapter Four

Lissa had waited until Saber was gone to pick up the half-unrolled vid screen Reddix had brought with him off the floor. She’d kept to the back part of the suite while Saber’s friend had been there, but she couldn’t help overhearing bits and pieces of their tense conversation. And then when the big warrior collapsed, she’d run out to help Saber deal with him.

But Saber had shooed her away. “Don’t touch him—he doesn’t like to be touched, especially not by females,” he’d said curtly. He’d called for some medical help and one of the floating stretchers from the Med Center and had followed his friend down, hardly saying a word to her before he shut the door.