The Nightwind's Woman (5 page)

Kayle put a hand to her back to urge her
toward the windows. “Same deal as the great room window except…” He stepped
forward, opened the doors wide and stepped out on the balcony.

She followed and was taken aback by the
soft breeze flowing over her from night-darkened woods beyond.

“This part of your quarters is interactive,”
he finished. “It’s called an image suite and like the one in the great room, it
can change. Not just the picture you see but the room around you.” He picked up
another control and the room changed from a balcony to something that took her
breath away.

“Oh my God!” she said, her hand going to
her mouth. She swept her stunned gaze around the multi-sided room until it came
to rest on a white wicker swing. A shiver went through her body and she slowly
turned her eyes to Kayle.

“Do you like it?” he asked.

She couldn’t answer. All she could do was
stare at him as realization set in. She could feel her heart thundering in her
chest.

He gazed down at her with a look that made
her toes curl. “I wanted it to be perfect for you.” He reached out to place his
palm against her cheek. “For us.”

“You’re…” She swallowed hard, moving back
from his touch. “You’re the shadowman,” she accused.

“I am
your
shadowman,” he said softly.

“Oh my God,” she said again and backed out
of the image suite, needing to put distance between her and the illusion.

He followed her, leaving the doors open to
the shadowy gazebo beyond.

“I should have known,” she said. The
fingers at her lips were trembling. “I should have recognized your accent.”

“I wasn’t ready for you to,” he said then
swept a hand toward the door. “Let’s go into the great room and talk.”

She nodded. Questions were tumbling around
inside her head and she was surprised she wasn’t running from the room,
shrieking like a banshee.

“You’ve more decorum than to do that,” he
said and she knew he had read her thoughts.

“All of this,” she said as she sat gingerly
on one of the sofas, “came straight from my imagination, didn’t it?”

“Down to the last detail,” he said as he
too took a seat across from her. He sat forward with his knees spread, laced
hands braced on his thighs. “I’ve been waiting for you for a long time. I had
no idea they’d found you. Apparently the Powers Who Be lifted my thoughts of
you and incorporated them into the computer when they brought you here. They
wanted it to be exactly as you would like, perfect in every way.”

Once more she looked about the room. “It
is. Eerily so.” She returned her attention to him. “Why me?”

“You know why,” he said, holding her gaze.

“My mother was not a witch,” she stated firmly,
remembering what the Supervisor had told her about Nightwinds.

“Nor was your grandmother or her mother
before her,” he said. “Before that?” He cocked one shoulder. “All the women of
your line were.” He tilted his head slightly. “Would you like to know about
your great-grandmother Lenora?”

“She was a suffragette and a staunch supporter
of the Temperance Movement,” she replied.

“Oh, Nora was much more than that. I’ve rarely
come up against a woman as strong-willed and mean as that one,” he told her.

“Mean?”

“Brutally so,” he said. “She had the
disgusting habit of chopping off the heads of newborn kittens instead of having
the females spayed to keep unwanted litters from being born. I think she took
pleasure in killing the helpless little things.”

Kenzi shuddered. “That isn’t mean, Kayle.
That’s evil.”

“I agree,” he said, nodding. “But that was
your great-grandmother. Using her shotgun to drive hungry drifters from her
door was another favorite pastime. She was not a nice woman.”

“And my grandmother?” she asked.

“Gilda was as tenderhearted with animals as
her mother was cruel,” he replied. “But she was terrified of her mother and did
whatever Nora ordered. You knew Gilly died giving birth to your mother.”

“Mother rarely spoke of her,” she said. “My
grandmother raised Mama.”

“To be exactly like her,” he said with a
twist of his lips. “Thankfully Inez did not pick up Nora’s more bloodthirsty
habits although she was not the most compassionate person I’ve ever known.”

“No,” Kenzi said, lowering her eyes. “She
wasn’t.”

“Now here you are,” he said.

She lifted her gaze. “Are you going to offer
your services to me?”

“I am.”

“What happens if I turn you down?”

He smiled. “You won’t.”

Kenzi’s brows drew together. “How do you know
I won’t?”

“Because you aren’t like the last three
generations of Thompson women,” he replied. “You are the one I’ve been waiting
for. You are the Chosen.”

“The Chosen,” she repeated.

“The woman meant to save my immortal soul
and make me human again.”

She slumped back against the sofa, staring wordlessly
at him. “I think you’d better start at the beginning,” she said.

“Okay,” he replied and leaned back. “It was
a dark and stormy night…”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Kayle looked up at the wildly thrashing
leaves overhead, squinting as the cold rain peppered his eyes. He was drenched
to the bone, shivering, trying to outrun the she-wolves intent on making
roadkill of him. He could hear their frenzied shouts and ululating shrieks over
the harsh booms of thunder and piercing snaps of lightning. Around him the wind
skirled, pushed against his trembling flesh with phantom hands.

It had not been his intention to garner the
notice of the Matriarch and her blood-thirsty band of warrioresses nor to be
the recipient of their anger but he had managed to do both. Now, he was running
for his life and freedom—away from a hoard of women intent on causing him as
much pain as they could muster before killing him.

Gasping for breath, he pushed away from the
tree under which he’d been hiding and headed up the steep slope. His feet
slipped in the mud, his bare knees scraped across rocks and debris as he went
down but he managed to make his way to the top. Not daring to risk a glance
behind him, he took off running across the plain. He stumbled, righted himself
and then winced as pain lanced up his right calf. Limping now, half dragging
his right leg as energy and strength began to fade, he listened as the
cacophony of shouts and hoots reverberated through the storm-lashed night. They
were gaining on him and the sounds of triumph were like a sharp blade carving a
line down his naked back.

One of the things he knew they’d do to him
if—and when—they brought him to ground.

It took every last ounce of stamina he had
to put one foot ahead of the other. His body ached and bled in a dozen places
from scratches and cuts. He knew it was only a matter of moments before he went
down—never to rise again. When the first rock slammed into his hip, he yelped. The
force of the hit spun him half-around and he realized with shock that the
warrioresses were only a few yards away. He tried to pour on more speed but felt
himself falling—felled to his knees by another rock hurled at his back. He
pitched to his side and lay there panting as the painted faces of his captors
filled the night sky above him. The last thing he saw was the glint of light
striking off the metal of the first spear descending toward him.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“What crime did you commit to be put to
death?” Kenzi asked.

“I dared to touch a Temple Virgin,” he said
then shrugged. “She stumbled and I caught her before she could fall.”

“And for that they executed you?” she
questioned, aghast.

“It is taboo for a male to so much as touch
the hem of a Temple Virgin’s gown. To lay hands to her is a mortal sin. It was
reflexive action on my part but the Hell-hags did not see it that way. My life
was forfeit the moment my flesh touched hers.”

“What are Hell-hags?”

“The witches of Bandar,” he replied. “Daughters
of the Night they are called. Powerful witches with a bloodlust like you wouldn’t
believe. Men are lower than vermin in their eyes.”

“You should have let the bitch fall,” she
said.

“Aye, well, hindsight being what it is, I
agree,” he quipped, “but then I would not have become a Nightwind and would not
now be sitting here with you.”

“You died and came back as an incubus
demon?” she queried.

“It’s a bit more involved than that.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

He came to in the freezing cold with the
rancid stench of a cesspool weighing upon his nostrils. No light shone in the
utter darkness and no sound reached his straining ears. Heavy chains dragged
against his wrists and ankles as he twisted and turned in a useless effort to
break free. He soon found he was well and truly bound with no possible way to
gain his freedom.

And he was completely alone with the cold
and stench as his only companions in that vile place.

He yelled until he was hoarse but no one
came. He prayed. He swore. He uttered the most gods’ awful curses against the
female gender yet he remained alone in the noxious, lightless cavern that oozed
beneath the bowels on whatever world he now dwelt.

Naked and cold and as lost as any man had
ever been.

For what seemed like centuries he lay in
the piss and vomit and pus, the cesspit of all the wastes of all the living
things of the Megaverse, until one day twin sparks of red light pierced the
stygian darkness. The lights blinked and he realized he was staring into the
elongated pupils of another being. He had all but given up hope of seeing
another sentient life form and hope soared in his withered breast.

“Help me!” he pleaded. “Please, I beg you!”

From out of the ebon shadows slithered a
hideous beast with forked tongue and scales of sickly green. It slid toward him
with the sound of a million angry buzzing bees and the stink of Its loathsome
body was a thousand times worse than the stench of the Abyss.

“What will you give Me and Mine if I
release you from your prison?” It asked.

“Anything!” Kayle swore. “I will do
anything you ask!”

“Will you sign with your own blood that you
will obey Me?”

“I will!” Kayle swore. “Anything!”

A flash of light turned the darkness to
agonizing pain and Kayle hid his eyes from the glare, crying out in pain. When
he was able to open his eyelids, he realized another being had joined the first
and he stared at Her with growing fury, a hiss on his shrunken lips.

“Female!” Kayle spat as he shrank back.

“What do you here, Lilith?” the first
creature demanded, arching Its loathsome head over the dark beauty of the
goddess.

“I claim him as one of Mine own,” the
female stated.

“He is here to atone for his sins!” the
beast roared.

“You owe Me a boon, husband,” the goddess
reminded. “Release this one into My care.”

“No!” Kayle shouted. “I want no dealings
with females!”

The serpent hissed and rose higher in the
blackness. Its triangular head wove back and forth as Its slit-red eyes pierced
Kayle to the core of his being.

“You will atone by serving them, then!” the
beast spat. It turned Its grinning maw to the goddess. “He is yours!”

“No!” Kayle shrieked.

But Kayle had been whisked from the putrid
malefaction of his prison and when light fell upon him, he was horrified to
find his flesh had become scales, his hands and feet nothing more than stumpy
appendages with long, thick yellow talons.

“What’s wrong with me?” he wailed, looking
up through slit eyes at the lovely woman standing above him. He felt fangs in
his mouth and was stunned when a forked tongue whipped past his lips.

“Do you wish to look human again, Randon
Kayle?” She asked.

Disgusted by his loathsome appearance he readily
agreed that he did.

“Then swear a blood oath to Me and Mine and
I will make you a man among men. I will give you comely looks no female can
resist.”

Broken, desperate to change his hideous
countenance, he agreed and with one pass of Her hand, his body was restored.

“You will serve Me and Mine. Do what you
will to those of our enemies, but it will be Me, and Mine, you will obey.”

He had bowed his head. “I will do as You
bid,” he swore though it cost him greatly to make such a vow.

“Bide your time here in this lair,” She
said, “until that one voice winds its way to you. Listen closely for the one
cry of pain your heart will not let you ignore. When you hear it, speed you to
that woman and bind her and hers to you for all time. Make her one of Mine with
blood and the power of your body.”

Craftily he had looked up at the dark
beauty. “I have one caveat,” he said, relieved he could now speak without the
hissing.

She had looked down upon him with anger but
had nodded, apparently intrigued by his daring to barter.

“I will do Your bidding until I find the
one woman who is willing to take me as I am, for what I am,” he said.

“And how will you know such a woman?” She
had demanded.

“I will know,” he said.

“And when you find her?”

“You will release me,” he told Her. “I will
be free of You and Yours.”

For a long moment She regarded him then
nodded.

“So be it. If you can find such a one, you
will be set free.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“You think I’m that woman?” Kenzi asked.

“I know you are,” he replied. “She knew I
would find you one day else She would not have bargained with me as She did.
There is little goodness in Lilith’s heart. What She does, She does for a
reason.”

Kenzi frowned. “Why would She want the two
of us to be together then?”

“Because She has plans for us.”

“Well?” the Supervisor asked.

“I’d like to see some of the…ah…patients I
will be treating before I give you my answer,” Kenzi replied.

He nodded. “Understandable. That can be
arranged.” He leaned back in his chair. “What did you think of your quarters?”

“Oh, I loved them,” she said. “Who wouldn’t?”

“Can you see yourself living there for the
next forty years or so?”

She lifted her eyebrows and looked away
from his intense stare. Taking a deep breath, she seemed to be mulling over his
question. When she looked back at him she smiled. “Yes sir. I can.”

“And the facility?” He tented his fingers. “What
is your opinion of it?”

“State of the art,” she replied. “Comfortable.
All the necessities provided. I’ve yet to see where I will be working but if
everything else I’ve seen so far is any indication, I am very encouraged.”

“And open to working here?”

“Quite possibly,” she said.

“What of the Alpha?” he inquired. “What is
your opinion of him?”

She lowered her head and dusted her hand
over her thigh. “I think you know there was a connection between us before I
ever stepped foot in Tearmann.”

“One of the reasons you were chosen for the
job offer but…”

She looked up, her eyebrows knitting
together. “But?”

“Had you not been the best qualified for
the job, Doctor, it would not have been offered to you despite the fact you and
he were fated to be together.” He pushed back his chair. “All right. Let’s take
that excursion into the bowels of the facility so you can get a gander at your
patients-to-be.”

* * * * *

Kayle stood at the two-way mirror and
stared at the woman who was Darkyn Sorn’s life-mate. He knew she could sense
his presence for she was staring right back at him with unblinking calm and
lips that were pressed tightly together. She was, without doubt, feeling the
animosity that was rolling off him in waves and was quite possibly interpreting
that as potential danger. He’d made no attempt to communicate with her to
alleviate any misconceptions that might be forming in her mind—a mind that was
completely shut down to him. He wasn’t sure he was ready to interact with her
or that it was advisable. As yet, Sorn had not met her but the Reaper was on
his way and Kayle was curious to see their reaction to one another.

“She’ll be his Extension,” Nash Wilder,
Chief of Agent Operations at Tearmann, had informed the Nightwind.

“She’s a witch,” Kayle clarified.

“A very powerful one,” Nash replied.

“Human?”

“Entirely.”

“Not a Hell-hag?” Even saying the term sent
shivers of unease through Kayle.

“No connection whatsoever,” Nash answered,
knowing why Kayle was asking.

He could breathe a little easier knowing
Sorn’s woman wasn’t one of those who had turned his unlife into a living hell.

“Is she going to take the job?”

Nash shrugged. “To be honest, Rand, I can’t
tell. Her mind is like a vault. I’m afraid my psi abilities are worthless on
her.”

As he stared at the lovely woman glaring
back at him, he hated to admit his own abilities were no better than Wilder’s
in regard to the witch.

I know what you are
.

He smiled nastily because she’d given in
first.
Yeah and I know what you are, baby
, he sent back to her.

Stay away from me
.

Randon nodded.
With pleasure
.

The door to the interrogation room opened
and the Reaper appeared. He stopped dead still as he got a look at the woman who
had turned toward him.

“You didn’t know she was here,” Kayle
mumbled. “Interesting. You knew mine was here but not yours.”

This situation had the Supervisor’s
machinations stamped all over it.

“Ellery Vance,” he heard the woman say. She
held out her hand.

“Darkyn Sorn,” the Reaper replied as he
took her hand in his.

“You are my Extension.”

“I am your life-mate,” Sorn told her and
brought her hand to his lips.

“State the obvious, asswipe,” Kayle said
with a snort and Sorn’s attention flicked to the mirror.

“Get the hell out of there, Breakwind,”
Sorn ordered.

“Go fuck yourself,” Kayle replied. “I’m not
going anywhere.”

“Allow me,” the witch said and with a wave
of her hand, the glass became black as ebony and all sound vanished.

“Huh,” Kayle grunted, impressed. The bitch
had some serious game and would need watching.

Unable to penetrate whatever force field
the little witch had generated, Kayle left the viewing room. Hands dug into the
pockets of his black jeans, he sent his mind on a search for his own woman and
found her at the Supervisor’s side on the lowest level of the facility. He
stopped and willed himself into mist. It was faster to travel that way.

* * * * *

They were on Level Five, the medical floor.
It was also where the morgue was located.

“There are five other physicians in
residence here. When you are on board, you’ll be assigned a twelve-on-forty-eight-off
schedule. We’ve been pulling physicians from the Exchange and Baybridge on a
rotating basis to maintain that schedule for those physicians already here,”
the Supervisor informed her. “And if necessary, we can pull them from the other
facilities if an emergency occurs but that hasn’t happened so far.”

They were passing two rooms he told her
were containment cells. She looked into one of them.

“What’s this used for?”

“That cell is for the Prime Reaper. For
when he Converts. The other is for Kayle when he’s been a bad boy.”

She looked around at him. “Converts?”

“From humanoid to Reaper. Sorn doesn’t need
it unless he too has been a bad boy and that does happen occasionally. He and
your Nightwind loathe one another. Too often they let that loathing erupt into
out and out warfare—making it necessary for me to discipline them. Hopefully
now each of them has a life-mate, that situation will ease.”

“Having two Alpha males in your employ must
be exhausting,” she said with a grin.

“You have no idea,” the Supervisor mumbled.

They had reached a set of double doors inscribed
with a strange symbol.

“Beyond here are the isolation and
quarantine wards. Unless there is an outbreak or one of our inhabitants enters
his or her danger level, they are seldom used. These doors are kept locked at
all times. Currently there are no patients housed therein. The symbol signifies
danger.” He swept a hand to another set of doors farther down the corridor. “Beyond
there is where you will be working.” Another strange symbol labeled the room. “The
character you see represents healing.”

“What language is this?” she asked,
reaching out to touch the symbol when they reached the doors.

“
Draganian
,” he replied. “The
ancient language of the Triune Goddess Morrigunia. It is under Her auspices
that all three facilities operate for the Consortium.”

“Will I get to meet the goddess?” she
asked.

“I don’t know,” he answered. “She’s not overly
fond of the life-mates of Her Reapers.” He chuckled. “I believe it is a
jealousy thing but who knows?” He pushed open one of the doors for her then
indicated she was to precede him.

A long, brightly lit corridor with dozens
of closed doors. Except for four doors on either side that were white, the
other doors were either dark green or black. She turned to the man beside her.

“White doors are exam rooms. Green doors
are staff offices or labs. Each is clearly marked. Black doors are the
inpatient rooms.”

He showed her one of the exam rooms,
explained the other seven were identical then moved toward the first black
door. Set into the door was a plexigon window over which a titanium mesh had been
installed on both sides of the glass and buried within the titanium door.

“Most of the rooms are kept locked at all
times,” he said. “We don’t need the creatures roaming free although there are
about thirty who are trustees, if you will. They help the doctors when asked
and translate should the need arise.” He crooked his fingers. “Come take a look
at one of those you’ll be treating.”

She tucked her bottom lip between her teeth
and walked slowly to the door. Her palms were sweating and her heart pounding
for she had no idea what lay beyond the portal. What wild, exotic creature
might be lurking inside the room. She held her breath and looked through the
glass.

The creature was sitting on its bunk with
its back to the wall, knees drawn up. In its hands was a book by John Sandford.

“What is it?” she whispered.

“I am a
dagon
,” the creature said
without looking up. “Part fish and part man.”

Scales covered that flesh that she could
see beyond the sleeves of its shirt and the hem of its slacks. There were gills
on its cheeks and its eyes held the same flatness as most aquatic species.

“Kaitus is one of our trustees,” the
Supervisor said. “He is a shape shifter. He teaches new inhabitants the ways of
their human counterparts.”

“And he is right in the middle of a very
thrilling part of his book.” He waved his fingers. “Go away. We’ll talk later,
milady.”

“Ah, sure,” she said and moved back from
the door. “Fascinating.”

“Let me introduce you to our resident
fantine
,”
the Supervisor told her. He moved down five doors and knocked politely.

“Come!”

He opened the door and stepped inside. “How
are you today, Reglan?”

“Fair to partly cloudy,” was the reply.

Kenzi shyly poked her head into the room
and smiled.

This creature was dressed in a red-and-white
plaid shirt, faded overalls, work boots and had a straw hat sitting jauntily on
its slightly oversized head.

“Pardon my attire, milady, but I have been
in the hydroponic gardens tending the vegetables. I like to dress the part for
it amuses the technicians on that floor.” He bowed respectfully but kept his
distance.

“Reglan is a
fantine
,” the
Supervisor explained. “He is a Swiss faery who brings good weather to
farmers—for whom all
fantine
have a fondness. Reg, this is Dr. Delaney.
She may be joining us.”

“Ah, the Nightwind’s woman,” Reglan said. “No
maybe about it if that one is involved.” He sighed dramatically. “You have my
condolences on being the Chosen of that demon.”

“Why?” she asked.

“Too possessive,” Reglan said. “And he can
be as mean as a cornered ghoret.”

“A what?”

“Ghorets are the most venomous vipers in
the Megaverse,” the Supervisor told her. “Think a Fer-de-Lance on steroids.”

“With a Fer-de-Lance a victim can take two
steps,” Reglan said. “The ghoret’s bite is a thousand times more potent.”

“Do you have ghorets here?” she asked.

“Mercy no!” Reglan answered for the
Supervisor. “We have a few
cricks
, a
dipsa
—second cousin to the
ghoret, and that cursed
mamlambo
no one can tolerate since it glows in
the dark. Those are the only snake-like beings here at Tearmann.”

“We’ve got a
minhocão
arriving next
week,” the Supervisor stated.

“Oh, the gods help us. Those things are
nasty!” Reglan groaned. “And they positively reek.”

“It will be in its own tank.”

“It will still stink,” Reglan complained. “There
goes the neighborhood.”

“When it’s time for you to take an
assistant,” the Supervisor said. “Reglan is the man to seek out to help you
find one. You can trust what he tells you.”

“As you can all weathermen,” Reglan said
with a grin.

“I’ll bear that in mind,” Kenzi replied.

Though the
fantine
had appeared
human albeit a smaller, thinner version of human, there were several more
creatures Kenzi was introduced to as trustworthy who were so exotic-looking her
head was spinning by the time she and the Supervisor headed back to the
elevator.

“What do you think?” he asked her.

“Had I not seen them with my own eyes, I
would not have believed you,” she responded.

“Level Six is what we call the Holding
Level. It is housing for Classes I through V residents. You’ll learn more about
the different class designations during orientation. No need to go there now.
Level Seven is the Containment Level for Classes VI through IX. The inhabitants
of that level are considered dangerous but containable.”

“I understand.”

“Now I want to show you some of the bad
ones,” he said. “They are in maximum security, which is on the lowest level. We
call it the Incarceration Level and…” He stopped, stiffened then released a
long sigh. “It seems he does not trust me to protect you down there.” He looked
beyond her shoulder.

Kenzi turned in time to see what she
thought at first was a dark shadow but then the shadow shimmered and she
recognized the Nightwind. He came toward them with a stride she would describe
as a swagger and for some reason that reassured her.

“It was the
estrie
who let the
baginis
out of her cell,” he told the Supervisor.

“Did she say why?”

“Because she could,” Randon said with a
twist of his lips. “I have ordered Sustenance withheld for a few days as
punishment.”

“Isn’t that rather cruel?” Kenzi asked.

“Sustenance is blood,” the Supervisor put
in. “Not food.”

“
Estrie
are sexual witches,” Randon
told her. “They draw their power from drinking blood and having sex. She won’t
be able to do either for a while. If we don’t punish them, we can’t control
them. They’re like children in that regard.”

“I see,” Kenzi said.

“I can take it from here,” the Nightwind
said, reaching for Kenzi’s upper arm. His long fingers circled her flesh and a
tingle ran from her elbow to her palms.