Evil Wind

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New Concepts Publishing www.newconceptspublishing.com Copyright ©2007 by Charlotte Boyett-Compo First published in 2007, 2007 NOTICE: This work is copyrighted. It is licensed only for use by the original purchaser. Making copies of this work or distributing it to any unauthorized person by any means, including without limit email, floppy disk, file transfer, paper print out, or any other method constitutes a violation of International copyright law and subjects the violator to severe fines or imprisonment.

EVILWIND By Charlotte Boyett-Compo © copyright February 2007, Charlotte Boyett-Compo Cover art by Jenny Dixon, © copyright February 2007 New Concepts Publishing Lake Park, GA 31636 www.newconceptspublishing.com This is a work of fiction. All characters, events, and places are of the author's imagination and not to be confused with fact. Any resemblance to living persons or events is merely coincidence.

Dedication To Angie Evans, who has such wicked dreams of Kamerone...

Forward In the Terran year of 1994, Bridget Dunne became one of many young, beautiful and highly intelligent women to disappear from her world without a trace. Abducted from her college in Grinnell, Iowa, Bridie woke to find she was on board an alien space craft—along with nine other women—bound for the planet Rysalia Prime in a distant part of the universe far beyond her own galaxy. Bridie was just one more woman taken from her home world to a place where men ruled supreme and women were thought of as chattel to be bought and sold at whim. Because of her college training in the field of psychology, she was handed over to the Behavioral Modification Unit on Frontier Station Kahmsin-14 to work with Dr. Beryla Dean, an eminent biogenetic scientist. Before Bridie arrived on FSK-14, the women of Rysalia had begun organizing a resistance force to gain their freedom. They needed a powerful man among the Rysalians to ally with them to help them achieve their objective. They also needed to set a honey trap—an enticing female to catch the eye and attention of their reluctant target—and Bridie was chosen because a certain renowned warrior had once given her a lustful glance in passing. That man had been Prime Reaper Captain Kamerone Cree, the most feared man in the Rysalian Empire. An intergalactic shape-shifting killing machine, Cree had been charged with crimes he had not committed—crimes that had been staged by the Resistance to implicate the Reaper in their rebellion. As a result, he was remanded by the Ministry of Justice to the Be-Mod unit for reinforcement therapy—a torturous series of brutal sessions designed to bring him to his knees, to break him down to his lowest common denominator, and then strengthen his savage behavior. During these sessions, he would come into close contact with Bridie and the trap would be set. Unbeknownst to the Ministry of Justice, the Resistance had infiltrated the behavioral modification sessions and began using subliminal messages to turn Bridget into the only saving light in Cree's dark, painful world. Unable to get her out of his mind or keep his treacherous body from desiring her, the Prime Reaper developed an uncontrollable urge to have her for his own—consequences be damned—and he sets out to do just that. Neither Cree nor Bridget reckoned on a developing love that would bind them together for all time. Manipulated by the Resistance with deep-seated subliminals and psychotropic drugs, the two lovers would find themselves embroiled in a rebellion that would see hundreds of thousands of men dead in the space of two hours time and their world now run by women who wanted to eliminate Cree from the equation and place Bridget into the hands of his worst enemy. But no one had counted on a ragtag assortment of warriors who would rescue Cree from his planned execution and spirit him into the barren darkness of space in search of his woman. Having overtaken the ship on which Bridget was being held Cree dispatched his enemy, reclaimed his woman, but in the bargain was forced to terminate three women warriors whose race would issue a death warrant for his capture. Unaware he has been declared the most wanted man in the universe, Kamerone Cree wants only to live in peace with the woman he loves more than his own life. Fleeing to Bridget's home world where it was now 2062, Cree, his men and a handful of Terran women who had aided in Cree's escape from his near-death at the hands of the Resistance, must blend in seamlessly into this new world. Fate is with them and they are able to make new lives on Terra. On the way to Terra, Bridget gives birth to Cree's child, creating problems neither she nor the Reaper knows how to solve. Unable to hold his son for fear the beast within him will harm the child, Cree feels useless in this new life. He is a warrior whose talents can never be utilized on Terra. Unhappy, bored, and restless, he finds himself being stalked by a mysterious woman he knows is an alien bounty hunter. Realizing she must have been sent to bring him back to Rysalia Prime and a horrifying fate reserved

expressly for him, his uneasiness spills over into his family life, alienating him further from Bridie and their child. When Cree is captured by his dreaded adversary Dr. Hael Sejm right from beneath Bridget's nose and spirited back through time and space to his intended execution, Bridie is driven to her knees with fear for her husband. She knows all too well what will happen when the Reaper is returned to Rysalia. She turns to Tylan Kahn, the one man who can help her. Once more Cree's friends find a way to attempt his rescue and leaving their adopted world behind, set out to reach Cree before his fate is sealed. Their ship is disabled when struck by an asteroid and the warrioresses, who had taken Cree prisoner, are forced to land on the barren world of Montyne Vex to make repairs. It is while they are on that desolate world that the Reaper saves not one but three lives of his captors, thus assuring for himself a state of Attribution—his enemies’ lives now belong to him and they are sworn to protect him—no matter what. Now in command of the ship, Cree intends to return to Terra but begrudgingly the women warriors inform Cree his bloodkin are awaiting execution on Rysalia Prime. Cree knows before he can return to Bridget, he must do all he can to save the condemned men. Enlisting the aid of the women warriors and their goddess, the Reaper finds himself once more on the way to a world eagerly awaiting his destruction. With the help of those who were once his sworn enemies, Cree must find a way to save himself and his fellow Reapers from the fiery deaths awaiting them. Only then can Cree return to Terra, taking with him his rescued bloodkin and the warrior women who will never be able to return to their home world because they helped him. While Cree's ship and the ship of his friends are racing toward Rysalia Prime, the Prime Reaper's eldest bloodson—Khiershon—is having his own problems on their side of the universe. He, too, had been the target of the same race of women striving to bring his bloodsire to justice and has managed to escape just in the nick of time. Traveling with a Terran medivac ship from that worlds distant future, Khiershon will find himself as attracted to a Terran woman as his father before him and will Join with Caitlin Kelly in a ceremony that will bind them together for all time. As the ship carrying Kamerone Cree speeds toward Rysalia Prime, another bearing Cree's Terran friends in hot pursuit, Khiershon and his crew are also headed for the planet where the bloodthirsty Daughters of the Multitude now rule. Unaware his bloodsire has been captured and is destined for execution on the planet Khiershon is going there to rescue his bloodkin who are to be terminated on the Feast of Alluvial, only one month away.

Chapter One "He's dreaming again,” Lt. Cirolia Sern told her crew mates as she took her seat at the navigational console. She reached down to pet the old weretiger who was never far from her side. "Strange,” Major Akkadia Kahmal remarked. She was toying with the long red braid that hung over her left shoulder. “I was told that Reapers rarely dream." "If the E.S.U. system hadn't been damaged beyond my ability to repair it,” Lt. Melankhoia Chanz reminded them, “he wouldn't be having bad dreams and we wouldn't have to be spelling one another and doing each other's jobs." "Hey, I'm not complaining,” Lt. Augenia Deon spoke up. “I'm learning far more than I ever did at Fleet."

Lt. Renata Aegean looked up from her weapons/defense op monitor. “How do you know it's a bad dream he's having, ‘Lia?" "There are tears running down his cheeks,” Sern replied softly. Dorrie Burkhart—the only non-Amazeen and civilian member among the seven women onboard the Alluvia —looked up from the e-book she had been reading. “He misses his lady,” she said quietly. "Until I met Kamerone Cree, there was no way you could have ever convinced me Reapers were capable of crying,” Kahmal stated, “much less have feelings that could generate tears to begin with." "Kam is not an ordinary Reaper,” Dorrie snapped. “He is a man among men and...." "You're in love with him,” Kahmal interrupted. She didn't like the Terran woman and considered her a rival although neither had a chance with Kamerone Cree. Lifting her chin, Dorrie glared at the Amazeen Major. “I've never said I wasn't. He knows how I feel." "What is it with you Terran women?” Lt. Cedilla Tyrian, theAlluvia's engineer inquired. “Are you predisposed to fall for men like Cree?” When Dorrie shot her a nasty look, Tyrian held up her hands. “I'm only asking. No insult was intended, Burkhart." "No more so than Amazeen women are predisposed to want to enslave the men with whom they come in contact,” Dorrie snapped. “Terran women like strong men who won't let a woman walk all over him." "That would be our Cree,” Sern said with a chuckle. She glanced down at her pet weretiger. “Isn't that right, Ceatie?" The old weretiger lifted his head, swiped at his mistress’ hand, purred loudly, then went back to sleep at her feet. "I can't argue the point about the enslavement,” Kahmal said. “I do own a breeding farm on Amazeen." Dorrie blinked. “You do?" Kahmal shrugged. “I have about twenty-odd men there but they are well cared for. I don't abuse them as do some of our Sisters. The men seem content enough. I've never had to have one emasculated. They are not, however, what I would classify as strong men. I've never had one try to rebel." "That's because you treat them decently,” Deon commented. "The Major's farm is known for the quality of its breeders,” Sern told Dorrie. "I've utilized the services of one or two of the Major's studs,” Chanz reported, “but since the problem is with my plumbing, there won't be any little Chanzettes roaming the hills of Amazeen." "When I'm ready to retire, I might check out the men the Major owns,” Lt. Augenia Deon said entering the conversation. “I'd like to have a couple of little girls to teach." Dorrie shook her head. “You women make it sound like you're just heading over to the corner market

for a loaf of bread and a jug of milk. You're no better than the Rysalian Empire when all is said and done." Kahmal frowned. “I suppose if you look at it in that way, we aren't so different than the Empire was except in that they enslaved women, trading and selling them like cattle." "Isn't that what you Amazeen do?” Dorrie countered. “Don't you trade and sell men like they're cattle?" "Men are pigs, not cattle!” Aegean joked and everyone—including Dorrie—laughed at the jest. "I can't argue with you there,” Dorrie admitted. “The exception being Cree." "It's good to know you don't consider me a pig." The women looked around to see the Prime Reaper leaning against the bulkhead, his arms crossed over his brawny chest. Since his only pair of boots had been destroyed during one of his Transitions from humanoid to wolf-like creature, he was barefoot as he stood there and that made him even more strikingly sensual to the women. They wondered how long he'd been listening to their conversation but not a one of them dared to ask. "No, you're not a pig. A stubborn mule,” Dorrie suggested, “but never a pig, Kami." Rolling his eyes at Dorrie's use of an endearment he allowed only from his lady, Bridget, Kamerone Cree turned his attention from her to Kahmal, the Amazeen bounty hunter who had been dispatched to Terra to bring him back to Rysalia Prime for execution. “May I have a word with you, ‘Kadia?" "Will it take long? We're not that far from Diabolusian air space and I'd like to be on the bridge should we be hailed,” Kahmal told him. "Not long,” he replied and pushed away from the bulkhead. He turned in the direction of the Long Range Cruiser's lounge, just off the bridge. "He looks worried,” Dorrie said to no one in particular. "Perhaps his dreams disturbed him,” Kahmal mused. "Be gentle with him, Major,” Chanz said with a laugh. “He's a delicate little flower." "Aye, right,” Kahmal said with a snort. “He's about as delicate as a Chalean fly trap." Taking a seat at one of the tables in the lounge, Kamerone Cree stretched out his long legs, crossed his bare ankles, and relaxed as much as his nightmare would allow. His acute hearing had taken in Kahmal's statement and he thought perhaps the Amazeen women were beginning to know him better than he would have liked. When the Major took a seat beside him, he slipped casually into her consciousness and wasn't surprised to read her concern for his state of mind. "Stop worrying about me,” he said quietly. "Ain't gonna happen. Whatcha need, Reaper?" "I have a favor to ask of you,” he said without preamble.

Kahmal braced her elbows on the table and leaned forward. “All right." The Prime Reaper drew in a long breath then let it out slowly before he spoke again. “Should something happen to me and I am unable to return to Terra for whatever reason, I would like to make sure Dorrie is kept safe. I want you to promise me you will take her back to Terra and not let them put her in some gods-be-damned convent." "You have feelings for this Terran woman?” Kahmal asked, a part of her chaffing with jealousy. He turned to meet her gaze. “Not in the way you mean, no, but I feel a responsibility toward her. I would like to know she will be free to live her life as she sees fit." Kahmal stared into his amber eyes and became lost in the sadness she saw lurking there. She ached to reach out to him, take him in her arms, and comfort him but she knew he would not allow it. The only comfort he sought was many light years away. The only peace he would ever know would be in the arms of Bridget Dunne. "If I am able to take Dorrie there, I swear to you that I will,” she promised him. “If it looks as though there will be no way to return her to Terra, I will see to it she is taken somewhere there are worthy men.” She smiled. “Perhaps Serenia or Ionary." He nodded. “The man she had on Terra was Serenian. She would interact well with such men. They are strong enough to hold their own with her." "Serenia it is, then,” Kahmal agreed. Her palm itched to touch him but he was sprawled in the chair with his arms crossed defensively—some might say protectively—across his chest. “Is there anything else?" He unfolded his arms and tugged down the zipper of the dark green flight suit Kahmal had loaned him. It was one of hers and though it fit him perhaps a bit too snugly, the pant legs were long enough to cover his tall frame. Reaching inside the inner pocket, he pulled out an envelope, looked at it for a long moment, and then handed it to Kahmal. “I would like this to be given to my lady should it be that I will never see her again." Kahmal took the envelope—still warm from his body heat—and saw that it was sealed. A part of her longed to read what he had written but under no circumstances would she ever intrude on his privacy. She knew if there was no way she could ever return to Terra, the envelope, and its contents, would be destroyed. "There are two notes within the envelope,” he explained. “One is to my lady and the other to my son." At the mention of the son he had never been able to hold in his arms, to kiss, his forehead crinkled with sorrow. "Cree...” Kahmal began, “I—" "Even if we are successful in rescuing my bloodkin being held on Rysalia Prime and with the grace of your goddess we escape unscathed, my son will be nearly a man before I see Terra again,” he said, the misery in his voice there for anyone to hear. “I will have missed his first words, his first steps, all the little things that will make him Jaelin Cree."

Kahmal felt tears gathering in her eyes. She was the cause of this man's suffering and it bothered her more than she could admit to anyone, even herself. “You have to believe you will return to Terra, Cree." "I know you said you did not kill Tylan Kahn and I believe you. I also have to believe he has been able to care for my lady and our son as I would have.” He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment and when he opened them, there was such grief shimmering there, Kahmal wanted to sob. “Kahn loves Bridget and he will make her a good husband if I am unable to return to her." The Amazeen Major could not endure his sorrow another instant without letting him know he had her if for some reason he could not make his way back to Terra. She put her hand on his shoulder. “Cree, you..." He hung his head. “I know how you feel,” he said softly. “There is no reason for you to say it." "But I want to,” she insisted. “I..." "Please, don't,” he asked. “I belong to Bridget and I always will. There will never be room for any other in the chambers of my heart. If I can not be with her, I will be alone." She saw a single tear easing down his lean cheek and it hurt her so deeply she had to dig her fingernails into her palms. “Was the dream that bad?” she asked. For a long moment he did not reply but when at last he began to speak, the hurt in his voice broke her heart. "We were walking hand in hand along the seashore. Bridie loved to swim but I would not allow her in the water because I could not join her. If something happened and she started to drown, I couldn't save her." "You can't swim?” Kahmal asked. "The parasite won't allow us to learn. It fears the Reaper might drown and it would be destroyed in the bargain. That is why we can't swim." "Did you and Bridget go often to the seashore?” She loved listening to his Ry-Chalean brogue. "There is a place called Savannah and we went there a few times. She liked to sit on the sand and watch the waves coming in.” He cocked a shoulder. “I must admit I found it a tranquil experience." "So was that where you were in your dream?" "I don't think so. The surroundings were strange. I'm not sure where we were or if that place even exists. Besides, the whole scenario was off." "In what way?" Cree held the picture of the dream beach in his mind's eye. The image disturbed him more than he was willing to admit and he shivered. "Are you cold?” Kahmal asked.

"There were ice floes in the water,” he said so softly she had to strain to hear. “I could see them all the way to the horizon yet the day was bright and sunny, a warm wind blowing over us and I knew what was coming." From out of his past three words came hurtling toward him and slammed into his consciousness with lightning speed: “Stage Three complete!" "Cree?” Kahmal asked, watching the horror invading his golden eyes. When he didn't respond, she reached out to shake him. "It was the sessions,” he whispered. “I was reliving the sessions in the Be-Mod 9 unit." Kahmal had read the dossier on the Prime Reaper Kamerone Cree and knew he had spent weeks in a Behavioral Modification Unit being tortured by members of the Resistance under the guise of assault therapy to re-enforce his training. It was there he had met Bridget. Cree plowed a hand through his thick brown hair and Kahmal saw his hand was shaking. "I felt her hand jerked from mine and then I was out in the middle of the ocean, staked down to one of the ice floes as it bobbed on the waves,” he told her. “There were thick spikes through my palms anchoring me to the ice. I heard Bridget calling to me, begging me to come back but I couldn't move. I was staked to the ice." "You were reliving the therapy sessions,” Kahmal said. "I heard the wave coming toward me and I lifted my head to see it. It was huge, blotting out the sky. It bore down on me and when it broke, the ice floe flipped over and I was beneath the water, my hands pulling free of the spikes." He had been drowning, water flowing down his nose, his air cut off by the invading thickness. He was sinking beneath a wavering, frigid surface, ice floes hovering just beyond his reach. The water was filling his lungs, inflating them to bursting, filling his body cavities with the freezing liquid. The harder he fought to reach the surface and the cleansing air that would free his blocked lungs, the deeper he plunged beneath the white surface until all light was blocked out. "Then she was there in the water beside me, pulling me up, dragging me to shore. I was dead—I knew I was dead—but she wouldn't let me go. We were on the sand. I was on my back, staring into her eyes as she put her lips on mine, breathed life back into my lungs. She saved my life." Kahmal knew he was unaware that she was stroking his shoulder as he repeated his dream to her. She could feel the tremors rippling through his body and wanted desperately to hold him. "Just as I gasped my first breath, she and I went spinning through the air and I hit something so hard it knocked the breath out of me. When I came to I was shackled to a stainless steel pole on the plaza in front of the Titaness on Rysalia Prime,” he said. "Where your bloodkin are to be executed,” she said, knowing he could not have seen the poles that had been erected long after he had fled with Bridget to Terra. "There were thousands of women standing there to see me die. Hael Sejm and Captain Chakai were holding Bridie between them. She was struggling to get free, trying so hard to come to me, but it was

already too late. There was a flash of fire at my feet and I was burning." The memory of his scream filled his head. The pain had been so horrific, so invasive, so utterly intense, he had longed for the surcease of life. But just as soon as the flames had enveloped him, blistering his flesh, then burning deep through the epidermis, past the coris, into the muscles and nerve bundles, dissolving capillaries, splitting open veins and arteries and flashing into the very marrow of his bones; just as the pain became so terrifying that he had began to beg for death, she was there holding out her hand to him. "Come, Kam,” she whispered. “Come to me and the pain will stop.” He held out his hand, striving to touch hers, hopeful, ecstatic, then she began to fade from his sight. Cree hung his head. “But she couldn't save me this time,” he said. “Her beautiful green eyes couldn't save me and I died in the flames." Kahmal suspected there was more. “Go on." He looked up at her and tears were running down his face. “They threw Dorrie into the fire with me. She was pleading with me to help her, to stop the pain, but I couldn't. I woke up hearing her screams." "It was just a dream,” she told him. “We are not going to allow anything to happen to you or her." "Just promise me,” he said, swiping angrily at the tears, “that you will make sure Dorrie is kept safe. Promise me that." "I swear it on my honor as an Amazeen warrioress,” she pledged. He seemed to relax, letting out a long breath. “That is all I can ask, ‘Kadia." Kahmal tucked the envelope he had given her into the pocket of her jumpsuit. “Is there anything else you want me to do?" "If you make it back to Terra,” he said, “you will never be able to return to this side of the megaverse. Your people might well send bounty hunters after you." "I've no illusions about what may or may not happen to us, Cree,” she stated. “My thoughts are, though, we'll be written off. No one will come after us. You don't have to worry about me or my crew." "We need to destroy the wormhole,” Cree said. “If my bloodkin and I do escape and we are able to get to Terra, I don't want to have to be looking over my shoulder for the remainder of my life and have my bloodkin doing the same." Kahmal nodded. “I can understand that. Perhaps closing the anomaly would be the wisest thing to do." "As long as it's open, there will always be a chance our enemies will arrive on our doorstep to wreak havoc with our lives. I'd just as soon not have to spend my time looking for tall women in gray sweat suits." Kahmal grinned. “I rather liked my gray sweats,” she said. He smiled, too, for a moment then the smile slipped from his face. “Even if I don't make it back, I want

to make sure it is impossible for anyone from our side of the megaverse to find their way to Terra again. Our people have caused enough pain and sorrow on that world to last a thousand lifetimes." "There's only one problem." "What?” he asked. "I don't think the Terrans have discovered the wormhole, yet, but I don't know that for sure,” Kahmal said. “We did encounter that Terran ship near the Vex when we were on our way to Terra to extract you. We came out of the wormhole practically right on top of them. What if they found their way into the anomaly? They'd have no way to get back to Terra if we destroyed it." The Reaper's eyes narrowed. “What ship was that?" "It was an all-female crew,” she said. “A Terran medivac transport. They were looking for, ah, friends." "Friends?” he asked. "Friends,” Kahmal said, her eyebrow lifted. Her face reddened. Cree's forehead wrinkled. “Oh, friends!” He half-smiled. "Needless to say we weren't interesting in making their acquaintance,” Kahmal told him. "I'm sure the Terrans were very sweet women,” he said. “Just a bit lonely." "Aye, well they can stay lonely,” Kahmal quipped. "Do you remember the name of the ship?" Kahmal thought about it for a moment. “TheOrion , I believe, but I can't be sure." "Major?” Chanz interrupted, the vid-com clicking on without benefit of a warning chime. "Aye?" "You'd better get up here fast. We've got trouble!"

Chapter Two Four dreadnaught class battle cruisers lay directly in the path of theAlluvia . Appearing out of nowhere, having eluded detection while in stealth mode the mammoth cruisers were braced with laser cannons primed to blow the lightweight LRC out of the sky. "Who the hell are they?” Kahmal asked. She didn't recognize either the build or the markings on the matte black ships. "They are not answering our hail,” Deon reported. "Cree?” Kahmal asked. “Do you have any idea who these bastards are?"

The Prime Reaper was staring at the vid-com screen, his forehead creased. “I don't recognize them." "They are blocking my probe,” Sern said, referring to her own psychic powers. “How about yours?" Cree shook his head. “I'm getting nothing." "Well, whoever they are, they've got their cannons locked on us and if my instruments are reading correctly, they have enough firepower aimed our way to blow us to space dust,” Aegean said. "Try opening a channel, Deon,” Kahmal ordered. "Unknown vessels,” Deon said. “This is the Amazeen LRC theAlluvia captained by Major Akkadia Kahmal. We are on our way to Rysalia Prime with..." "A Reaper in your greedy, murderous little hands and youwill hand him over to us! Now, wench!” a booming voice shouted over the vid-com and the center screen lit up to show a grimacing black face filled with fury. "Necromanian,” Tyrian said. “I've never seen one. Very impressive." "I am Kamau Taborn, Prince of the Royal House of Necroman and...." "Nephew of Lares,” Cree said. Fierce black eyes jerked from side to side, seeking the image of the one who had spoken. “Who dares to speak the name of the martyred one?” Taborn bellowed. "On screen,” Cree ordered and the vid-com camera focused on the Reaper. “I, Kamerone Cree, speak the name of my friend, Lares, and since when did he become a martyr?" The hulking black man at the other end of the transmission smiled broadly, showing a mouthful of shining white teeth. “You are alive!” he shouted. “We had heard you met your fate at the hands of those bitches on Rysalia Prime!" "Thanks to your uncle that didn't happen." Another face pushed Taborn's from the screen. “I am Zainabu,” a large-breasted woman spoke. “I am the J'Bai of Lares!" "Uh, oh,” Cree said and his face turned pale. "You say my betrothed is still alive?” Zainabu questioned. “Where is he?" Sern, who was born with the gift of mind reading, scanned Cree's thoughts and what she saw there made her whistle."I wouldn't tell her if I were you," she sent to him. Cree glanced toward Sern, frowning. “Lares,” he told the Necromanian woman, “is stranded on Terra." Zainabu lifted her chin. “He can not return to Necroman?"

"The vessel which took us to Terra ran out of fuel,” Cree explained to her. “We barely had enough to reach our destination." Taborn shoved Zainabu out of his way. “How come you to be on a ship crewed by Amazeen?” he asked. “What have they done to you, friend of Lares?" "We captured him,” Kahmal said, bringing the Necroman prince's scowl back to her. “But...." "You will hand him over to us!” Taborn declared. “Now, wench!" "For what purpose?” Kahmal snapped, waving Cree to silence when he would have spoken. "For what purpose?” Taborn repeated, his dark eyes blazing. “To prevent him from dying in a Multitude bonfire!" "That isn't going to happen,” Kahmal denied. "Nay, it will not!” Taborn snarled. “We will await his transport to our ship." "Prince Kamau,” Cree spoke up, “these women are no longer my captors. They have agreed to help me rescue my bloodkin from execution on the Feast of Alluvial. I...." "Amazeen are not to be trusted!” Zainabu said, jockeying once more for main position on the vid-com screen. “They are treacherous bitches who lie out of both sides of their ugly mouths." Kahmal stiffened. “How dare you insult my Sisters!” she yelled. “We are just as honorable as Necromanian warriors and we do not lie!" Zainabu snorted. “Every word out of your mouths is a lie. It was an Amazeen who testified against my J'Bai and was responsible for sending him to Helios 12!" "I thought he was sent there for killing a Domination priest,” Cree said. "This is so, but he did not murder the priest. An Amazeen accused him, but it was a lie." Cree wanted to tell Zainabu that her betrothed had confessed to him that he had killed the man he had labeled a pesky priest, but decided to keep his mouth shut. He held up his hand when Kahmal would have continued the argument. "These women speak only the truth,” he assured the Necromanians. “I would know if one were to lie to me." Taborn shoved Zainabu out of the way. “If you say it is so, then it is so, Kamerone Cree.” He spread his hands. “Will you not at least visit my vessel and allow me to express my gratitude for the saving of my uncle's life?" "It was he who saved my life, Prince Kamau,” Cree corrected. “Had it not been for the reed necklace his J'Bai had given him when they were children, I would have died." Zainabu pushed Taborn so hard those on the bridge of theAlluvia heard the crash he made as he careened into something on his ship. “Explain!” she demanded. “How did what I made for my beloved

aid in saving your life?" Cree winced for he had a momentary impression of Kamau Taborn's pain. “I was being hanged when I was transported to safety and could not draw air into my lungs. A breathing tube was needed. Lares did not think twice. He snatched the necklace from him and a reed was used to save my life." The glint of tears shone in the black woman's dark eyes. “Lares treasured the zawadi I made for him,” she said and fingered a similar necklace she was wearing. “For him to destroy it there had to be a great reason.” A smile wavered on her lovely face. “He must have great love for you, Reaper." "I have great affection for him, as well, milady,” Cree admitted. "You must come to our ship! You must be feted in traditional Necromanian fashion!” Taborn stated, easing Zainabu aside this time. “We must praise the man my uncle calls friend." "They aren't going to take no for an answer,” Sern said just loud enough for everyone on theAlluvia's bridge to hear. "I will not step foot on the ship of any woman who dares to call me a liar,” Kahmal grumbled. Or any man who dares to call me wench." "You were not invited, white woman!” Zainabu barked. She tossed her thick fall of glossy black waist length hair behind her. "I appreciate your offer, Prince Kamau, and I am honored but we have but a short time to reach Rysalia Prime. The fate of my bloodkin has great concern for me,” Cree reminded the Necromanian warrior. "You will need help in rescuing your kin,” Taborn said. “We can be of assistance to you." "How?” Kahmal snapped. “Will you station your dreadnaughts around the perimeter of Rysalia Prime and threaten to blow away the Daughters to the Four Winds? The Multitude will know there are men nearby and destroy your vessel in the blink of an eye." "Nay, but my vessel will be at your back when the Winds lift the wings of your ship,” Taborn pledged. “We will run interference for you as you escape." "The Rysalians will know you are in the vicinity,” Kahmal stated. “You...." "We will be invisible to their sensors, wench,” Taborn boasted. “We can not be seen until we are ready to be seen!" "You have cloaking technology?” Kahmal asked, eyes wide. Taborn grinned. “A marvelous gift from our friends, theScaans ,” he said. "Your assistance is greatly appreciated,” Cree said for Kahmal. “I don't think the Daughters are going to let me go with a fond fare-the-well and a see-ya." Taborn threw back his head and laughed, a booming sound that reverberated through the vid-com channels. “I would think not, Kamerone Cree! You are high on their foig list!"

"Will you return to Terra when you rescue your kin?” Zainabu asked. "Aye,” Cree said then could have kicked himself for he knew as surely as he was standing there what was about to happen. "Then you will take me with you to be reunited with my J'Bai!” Zainabu said, her face lighting up for the first time. Dorrie groaned for the man in question was already married—to Dr. Beryla Dean. She put her hand over her mouth and looked at Cree. "I will send Zainabu over to you now!” Taborn said and every woman on theAlluvia heard the relief in his voice as he spoke. "Wait!” Cree said but it was already too late. In a matter of seconds, the statuesque black woman was standing on the bridge of the Amazeen ship. Kahmal's back was ramrod straight as she glared at the tall black woman who was only marginally less muscular and tall as Kahmal. With very large breasts and an oversized ass, the Necromanian was an imposing sight. Before anyone could move, the dark woman marched over to Cree and flung her arms around him, picking him up from the floor in a bear hug as though he was a child. "Cree, boon friend of my J'Bai!” she greeted him. “It is an honor to meet you!" Dorrie tried not to laugh at the grunt that escaped the Prime Reaper's lips as he was being mauled by the large woman. Sern could hear the gears grinding away in Cree's brain and was hard pressed not to laugh, as well. She had intercepted the wayward thought that he now had still another female for whom to be responsible and knew the Reaper was inwardly groaning. "It is an honor to meet you, too,” Cree managed to say before Zainabu released him. "I will protect you with my life, Reaper!” Zainabu swore. Kahmal had to look away, biting her lower lip to keep from bursting into laughter. She remembered all too well Cree's answer to Chanz’ pledge to protect his life with her own. "You find my vow humorous, Amazeen?” Zainabu demanded, starting toward Kahmal. "No!” Cree shouted. He put himself between the two women. “The Major is laughing at me." Zainabu stiffened. “She had best not laugh at you, Reaper!" "It was something I said awhile ago that she finds laughable,” Cree was quick to tell her. “It has nothing to do with you, milady." The black woman narrowed her eyes at Kahmal. “What was it he said that brought about such a reaction, Amazeen?" "A typical Cree-ism you will get to know well, Necromani. He had saved not only my life but the lives of

two of my crew,” Kahmal replied. Zainabu nodded. “Attribution. I am familiar with such.” She glanced at Cree. “That he acted in such a way merely re-enforces my vow to keep him safe. Continue." Cree groaned and shook his head. "One of my women pledged her life to him, as well, and he acted like the spoiled little boy he can be by telling her he did not need that kind of pressure. He doesn't like to think he needs the protection of mere women such as us." "You are one more woman for him to feel responsible for,” Sern said. "I see,” Zainabu stated. She swept her gaze over the Reaper and settled on his bare feet. “Why does he not have proper boots?" "We like to keep our men barefoot and pregnant,” Dorrie quipped, ignoring Cree's warning growl. Zainabu's lips puckered. “I can see the wisdom in that,” she agreed, “but it isn't possible, is it?" "That's enough,” Cree said, aware that Prince Kamau was listening intently to the women's conversation. He turned to the Necromanian. “Your help is welcome and greatly appreciated, Prince Kamau. How will we be able to contact you when the time comes?" Taborn smiled. “We have stealth capabilities, such as no other world has developed, and secure channels. We will not be far away, Kamerone Cree. Zainabu will call us when we are needed.” He arched a thick black brow. “What size boot do you need, Reaper?" Zainabu sniffed, sniffed again, and then turned to look down at Ceatie. Her eyes lit up. “A were beast!” she said and rushed over to where the weretiger was sprawled out at Sern's feet. She went to her knees and buried her face in the old animal's fur. “I have not seen your like in years, Old One!" Ceatie began purring so loudly it was hard to hear Cree answering Taborn concerning his boot size. He licked the ebony face pressing close to his and made a mewling sound that bespoke of his contentment. "May I be a member of your pack, Old One?” Zainabu asked the weretiger. Sern exchanged a glance with the black woman and in the space of a few seconds it was obvious to every woman there the two would be good friends. The black boots materialized on the transport pad a few moments later and Cree swiped them up. He stalked off with them, muttering under his breath. He barely remembered to thank Taborn for the gift. "Zainabu!” Taborn called out and when the black woman stood up and faced him, hands on her ample hips, he shook a finger at her. “Do not cause the Reaper undue stress and do not try to run his life as you tried to run mine!" "Be gone with you, Kamau,” the Necromanian woman said. “We will call when we need you.” She dismissed him by turning her back and dropping down beside Ceatie once more. "May the Wind be always at your back, Major Kahmal,” Taborn said. “You will need it with Zainabu

close at hand." With that said, the vid-com screen went black and in the twinkle of an eye, the four Necromanian dreadnaughts were gone. "Your prince is a member of the Windwarrior Society?” Kahmal asked. "A grand master, I believe, but I could not care less about such things,” Zainabu said with a sniff. "Where did they go?” Deon asked with awe. She was scanning the heavens but the dreadnoughts were nowhere on her scope. "They are out there, but I'll be damned if I can bring them up on the screen. There isn't even a blip,” Aegean said. "Our stealth capabilities are impenetrable,” Zainabu bragged as she got to her feet. She looked around. “Where is the Reaper?" "He went off to sulk,” Dorrie said, extending her hand. “I am Dorrie Burkhart, a Terran. I've known him longer than anyone else onboard so if you have questions, you can come to me." "Why does he go to sulk?” Zainabu wanted to know, taking the proffered hand in the warrior way—forearm to forearm. "He's a loner,” Sern spoke up. “He prefers to be by himself." "And he wants to try on his new boots,” Chanz said with a snort. Back in the lounge, Cree blocked out the feminine laughter that greeted Chanz's remark. He felt put upon and under even more pressure now that he had another female to try to keep from harm's way.

Chapter Three Kahmal had been searching for over an hour before she finally tried the image deck where she found Cree. When she opened the door to the suite he had programmed, she was shocked to find it resembled what she knew to be a facsimile of Helios 12. The suite was sweltering, with no wind and no moisture at all in the hot stagnant air. Cree was stripped down to a pair of cut-off britches, his bare chest glistening with sweat, the crisp hairs there sparkling, as he went through the intricate motions of some kind of martial arts regimen. He had dispensed with his new boots and she could not help but wonder why he felt the need to torture his feet in such a manner for the sand of the suite undulated with heat. She didn't think he'd seen her yet for he appeared to be concentrating on each complex position that made his muscles bunch and ripple. Despite the suffocating heat bearing down on her, she stood there and watched him, mesmerized by the powerful play of his brawny body. "Would you like to spar with me?” he asked. "I'd like to throw you down and have at your tight ass,” Kahmal retorted, watching that area of his body flexing beneath the tight-fitting britches.

Cree actually laughed, but he made no comment to her sexiest remark. He continued to move fluidly with the complicated maneuvers. His biceps bulged as he held one position for a few moments before allowing his body to relax. He released a long breath, closed his eyes for a moment, and then came striding toward Kahmal, bending down to swoop up a towel to blot his perspiring face. The Amazeen Major could not take her eyes from his potent body. The man looked as though he had been molded by the Goddess of Love, Herself. There wasn't a spare ounce of fat on him and every move he made flowed like a well-oiled machine. Her gaze locked on the stylized crimson tattoo of a scythe on his left pectoral and held. She knew the tattoo had been applied to his flesh with a laser. "Aye, it did,” he said for she was wondering if it had hurt to have it burned into his flesh. "I'm surprised you admit it,” she said, tearing her gaze from the wicked brand. She wanted to reach out and trace the tattoo with the tips of her fingers. “How old were you when it was applied?" He shrugged. “Ten, I believe. I don't really remember. It was part of the Initiation into the Warrior Caste so at the time it was an honor to undergo the pain." "Did you weep?” she asked. His gaze locked with hers. “What do you think?" "I cried when my breast was removed,” Kahmal admitted. “It hurt like hell." "The tattoo was not nearly as bad as the implants they placed in my brain,” Cree told her. "When did they surgically insert the micro-receivers?” she asked. "At about the same time. That played hell with my brain and caused brutal headaches that were incapacitating. The M-Rs did the same thing to my bloodcousins so our handlers didn't start inserting them in the next class of Reapers until the cadet had gone through puberty.” He ran a hand over his damp face. “That cut down on the severity of the headaches, but I'm told migraines still plagued the cadets.” He swiped the towel under his chin. “I still have the gods-be-damned things and always will." Kahmal shook her head. “I thought having my right teat cut off was bad, but it seems you had a much more severe launch into warrior status." He stared brazenly at her chest. “You'd never know you had only one breast,” he said. The Amazeen Major reached up to touch the area. “Prosthetic,” she explained. “Which is removed whenever we engage in combat. Not every Amazeen opts to have the removal of her teat. Only those who know they will be fighting." "Ah,” he said. “And you are a warrior before you are a woman.” He held his hand out for her to precede him from the image suite. She met his gaze. “For you, I would be entirely woman, Reaper." His only answer to her statement was a quickly passing smile. Both of them knew she'd never act on her bold declaration and he would never allow it if she did.

Once outside where the cool air could wash over their bodies, Kahmal drew in a long breath. “Was there a reason you were punishing yourself in that hotbox?" Cree smiled. “It is a cleansing ritual,” he said. “I needed to clear my head." "From all the female influences in which you are drowning, Reaper?” she teased. "Too much estrogen blunts a warrior's savagery,” he replied with a snort. "Dorrie tells me there is going to be a problem with the Necromani when we arrive back on Terra,” she said, folding her arms. “How are you going to deal with that?" The Reaper's brow furrowed. “The hell if I know,” he said. “I'll have to leave that problem up to Taborn." "Dorrie says Dr. Dean won't be amendable to losing her mate." "No, she won't,” Cree agreed. “I wouldn't want to be in Taborn's boots.” There was something in the Major's gaze that sent a prickle of unease down the Reaper's spine. “You have other concerns, ‘Kadia?" Kahmal looked down at the floor. She didn't quite know how to broach the subject with him but she and the other women—including the new arrival—had discussed the situation and decided it needed to be brought out into the open. She looked at him. "As you mentioned to me before, many years of Terran time will have passed before we return,” she began. “How...?" "You believe my lady will have moved on,” he said quietly. “That she and Tylan Kahn will have become so close he will have taken her from me." "You have to consider it,” she said and watching as a bead of sweat rolled down his taut abdomen. "I consider it every moment of my existence. If such is the case, I will leave them to their new life,” he said but there was great sadness in his tone. “I only want what is best for Bridget and our son." She tilted her head to one side. “You won't fight for her?" "Bridget loves me,” he said. “I know that. She knows I love her. Tylan knows it just as I know he loves her. As time passes, they will believe me dead, executed at the hands of the Multitude. I cannot expect that she will live her life as a widow. I want her to be happy, to be at peace. He will see to her welfare." "You won't let her know you have returned?" "I will go to her. The choice will be hers to make,” he said. "But it will destroy you if she chooses Tylan Kahn,” Kahmal said gently. "Aye, it will, but if she does, then so be it. If she chooses to stay with him, I will leave and never bother her again." The Amazeen turned her face away. “If that happens, will you seek another mate?"

"There can be no other mate for me, ‘Kadia,” he answered. Kahmal's eyes narrowed. “Would you at least consider allowing a woman to care for you?” She looked back at him. “To be there to hold your loneliness at bay?" "Are you volunteering for such an unrewarding assignment, Major?” he countered. She lifted her chin. “I am." He searched her thoughts and was stunned to find every woman on the ship—including the new arrival Zainabu—had offered to stay with him. He shook his head. “Such martyrdom is not necessary,” he grumbled. “I'm a big boy and perfectly capable of taking care of myself." "Dorrie says otherwise,” Kahmal stated. “She mentioned something about you not knowing how to properly drive a car." "Properlypark a car,” he amended and shrugged. “I can drive one fairly well, but I will admit I have problems parking them. I could learn." "She also says you have problems dealing with the human population on Terra." Cree frowned. “Dorrie's going to have her shapely ass turned over my knee if she doesn't stop talking out of school,” he snapped. "She'd like that,” Kahmal said with a chuckle. He gave her a stern look. “Believe me when I tell you she would not.” He turned on his heel and started to stomp away. Kahmal hurried after him, matching his long, angry stride step for step. “Kamerone, we just..." "This conversation is at an end, Kahmal,” he said through clenched teeth. “We'll not discuss the matter again." She walked with him all the way to the sonic showers. He arched a brow at her when she would have stood where she was as his hands went to the waistband of his britches. She grinned and arched a brow, as well. A wicked gleam entered the Reaper's eye and he pushed the britches from his hips, giving her an unobstructed look at what Dorrie had speculated would be quite a package. Kahmal swept her eyes over his loins, gave them a long look, and then met his gaze. “Not bad, Reaper,” she said. “I could always use you on my breeding farm.” With that said, she left, casting him a saucy look over her shoulder. "Women,” he growled as he snatched open the door to one of the sonic showers and stepped inside. Kahmal was grinning so widely when she walked onto the bridge all the women stared at her. “Who,” the Major inquired, “gave our Reaper the cut-off britches?"

Deon frowned. “I did. Why?" "Nice,” Kahmal said. “Damned nice.” She sat down in the command chair. “And by the way Dorrie, he fills them out better than any man I've ever seen." Dorrie nodded. “Told you, didn't I?" "Indeed you did and I got a good look at what those britches were hiding." "And?” Dorrie prompted, every woman awaiting the answer. Kahmal's lips quirked. “More than nice and, no, he isn't circumcised." Sern intercepted the furious growl from the shower and knew the Reaper was listening to their conversation."Eavesdroppers never hear anything good about themselves," she sent to him and had to shake her head at the enraged vulgarities that came flooding through her mind. **** After his shower, Cree went back to the quarters Kahmal had allotted him so he would have privacy from all the estrogen saturating the air. He had strolled down the corridor barefoot with the towel wrapped around his lean flanks just hoping one of the women would happen by. A perverse part of him had every intention of letting the towel fall just to see the female's reaction but none of them had been about. He was a tad disappointed and more than a little annoyed at himself that he was. Sighing, he punched in the access code to his quarters and went inside. The room was dark and cool—just the way he preferred it. "Lights up fifteen percent,” he told the onboard computer and the room slowly illuminated. Absently reaching up to rub at the headache he felt coming on, he removed the towel and padded into the sleeping area, sliding himself belly down on the soft mattress. He lay that way for a moment until he realized the headache was only going to get worse so he turned over, reached up to drag a pillow under his head, and flung an arm over his eyes, bringing up one knee to relieve the workout pull on his aching stomach muscles. "Lights off." The chamber was plunged into unrelieved darkness though with his keen Reaper vision, had his eyes been open, he could have seen as clearly as though the lights had still been on. He lay trying to regulate his breathing and the god-awful agony that was now slicing through his temples. The increase in the severity, duration, and spacing of his migraines were beginning to worry him. It had started with the IH, the strong neuroinhibitor Hael Sejm had administered to him after his capture on Terra. A second dose along with having been deprived of oxygen for a good long while had set into motion a series of problems for him that had now resulted in his headaches being worse and coming more often than ever before. It was all he could do not to allow the women of theAlluvia to know just how horrific the headaches were. He groaned and raised his other knee. “Temperature twenty degrees lower,” he said for the cold seemed to help the debilitating pain lashing at his head.

With his pain having increased to the point he was beginning to see the strange wriggling flashes of light at the periphery of his vision and the nausea slowly rising in his throat, he tried to lay perfectly still, attempting to force all thought from his mind for even that caused pain. For a moment he drifted off and, in that moment, memory leapt up to claim him. **** "Captain Cree?” Bridget asked, seeing the fixed stare leap back to life. “Are you with us, Captain Cree?" He had never seen such beautiful eyes in his life as the ones that were staring down at him with such compassion. They were the most delicate shade of green: pale and soothing. They looked at him with so much tenderness, such overwhelming sympathy he knew he could trust their owner. "It's over,” she told him gently. “We're through." "S .. stay,” he whispered, his throat an agony. "What?” she asked. Even as the orderlies lifted him, moving him to a gurney, Cree found he could not look away from the woman's beautiful green eyes. He tried to lift his hand, to touch the hand of the woman whose eyes held him so enthralled, but his muscles wouldn't cooperate. "W .. with me,” he asked. "Captain Cree?" There they are again, he thought, his lips pulling back in a slow, confused smile. There are those beautiful, understanding eyes. He tried to lift his hand to touch their owner's cheek, but could not. "How do you feel?” Bridget asked him. "What's your name?” he croaked. "Dr. Dunne,” she replied. When he frowned, she amended her answer. “Bridget. Bridget Dunne." "Bridget,” he repeated. "Are you cold?" "Aye,” he sighed. Her voice was so soft, so incredibly gentle. It filled him with a need to which he could not put a name. "We're getting you a blanket.” She reached out to smooth away a lock of dark hair from his forehead. Cree closed his eyes, the effects of the synthetic neurotransmitter making the smell of her flesh a vivid sensation in his nostrils. Like the caress of her voice, her touch was infinitely desirable and completely calming.

Then there had been excruciating pain. Horror. Betrayal. Fear. Helplessness. Hopelessness. Defenselessness. Uselessness. "Come, Kam,” she whispered. “Come to me and the pain will stop." He held out his hand, striving to touch hers, hopeful, ecstatic, then she began to fade from his sight. "No!” he cried out, but she was gone, leaving him lost, desperate, so totally without hope. "Where is she?” his mind demanded. He whimpered. “Where is she?” He screamed. “Where is she?" "Captain?" The light was piercing white filing his head with the worst pain he could ever remember experiencing. "Why wasn't she here?" "Captain?" He tried to focus. Someone shook him gently, spoke his given name. Fog, thick and numbing was clouding his vision and he couldn't move, couldn't find his way out of the mist. Why wouldn't she come to him? "Captain Cree!" His vision cleared and he found himself looking up into the beautiful green eyes of the woman for whom he had been searching in his nightmare world. She was leaning over him, her face concerned, those beautiful green eyes filled with tears. "Go away.” The command was bitter. “You weren't there when I needed you and I don't want you here now!" Then had come more pain. More humbling. More of everything that had nearly destroyed him. "Don't go!” he called out. “Don't leave me again, Bridget!" "I can't stay, but I'll be back with them when they come for you at thirteen hundred hours." And they had been on time. Sweet merciful Alel, why wouldn't she come for him? When at last the pain had stopped, she had been there. "Kam ..” she began only to have him fix her with a warning glance. "I am a Reaper, Bridget,” he snapped. “I will be all right. No matter what they do to me, I will be all right!"

"Of course you will,” she agreed. Coming to him, she cupped his cheek. “Remember I love you, Kamerone Cree.” She locked her eyes with his. “I love you with all my heart. No matter what you are, no matter what you have to do in order to survive, I love you." **** The Reaper came awake with a gasp. He was shivering from the temperature being too cool but the headache was better. He put a trembling hand to his forehead. His breath was ragged as though he'd been running all out but his body didn't feel the aches it did when he'd laid down. Turning his head, he looked at the clock and realized he'd been asleep for several hours. Sitting up, he thrust his hand through his hair and stared across the room. If he tried hard, he could see Bridie's beautiful green eyes looking back at him. The last thing she had said to him before Sejm had snatched him from Terra echoed through the room: “I love you." "I love you, as well, my lady,” he repeated aloud his last words to her. He didn't feel the tears easing down his cheeks. **** Two days later found him sitting in the lounge, brooding. No one went near him for whenever someone tried, he would glare at them, warning them off. Not even Zainabu dared to intrude on his solitude but she was studying him across the room. "The Reaper is in a foul mood today,” the Necromanian woman declared. “He snapped at me." "Why is he out of sorts now?” Aegean asked. "The duplicator stopped working,” Chanz reporting. “Apparently there was more damage done to the system when that asteroid slammed into us than I'd realized." "That means we're going to have to land somewhere and take on supplies,” Tyrian remarked. "So he's annoyed there will be another delay in getting to Rysalia Prime,” Aegean said. "No, he's annoyed that he hasn't had any Sustenance today!” Cree snarled at them then swung his attention to them. “Or any Triso." The women turned pale. Sustenance they could provide for him—and gladly—but the powerful neuroleptic drug Trisomidine controlled the nerve pathways of the brain that utilized the tissue chemical dopamine for the transmission of nerve impulses. It was used to keep a Reaper from Transitioning out of cycle. Since it was a highly addictive drug both psychologically and physically, Cree would begin to experience severe withdrawal symptoms exhibiting aggression, restlessness, and potentially hazardous mood swings. Apparently those symptoms were already beginning. Chanz got up quickly and came over to him, rolling up the sleeve of her jumpsuit as she walked. “Here, warrior. I will feed you." Cree glared up at her. “Get the hell away from me, wench,” he snarled. "You need Sustenance and I am..."

"I can do without the Sustenance for awhile. I need my gods-be-damned Triso!” he shouted at her, his eyes glinting crimson. “I didn't get it yesterday and I haven't had it today. Do you know how dangerous I am to you? Move away!" Chanz backed away from him. She nearly tripped over her own feet when he shot up from the table and stormed away, throwing chairs out his path as he went. "Not good,” Chanz said. "I need to tell the Major,” Aegean said and was out of the lounge like a shot. "Where is he going?” Zainabu asked. "To the containment cell,” Chanz said. “He thinks he poses a threat to us and he does." "Did you see his eyes?” the Necromanian woman asked. “His eyes were red." "His cycles have been all screwed up since the ghoret bite and that gods-be-damned neuroinhibitor Sejm gave him,” Chanz reminded them. “Now without the Triso to keep them under control, he's on the verge of shifting again." "He is going into Transition?” Zainabu asked, her hand at her throat. "You had to know he would sooner or later, Zain,” Chanz answered. She glanced at the Major who had gone running past the door of the lounge, Dorrie close behind her. By the time Kahmal and Dorrie reached the containment cell, Cree was on all fours in the middle of the room. His sides were heaving and sweat was pouring down his face. He swung his head toward them and both women skidded to a stop for the transformation had begun. "Lock me in!” he ordered, his voice more growl than human speech. Kahmal sprang for the door, slamming it shut and engaging the lock just as Cree hit the door so hard it shuddered. She found herself staring through the thick plexiform glass into the enraged bestial face of a Reaper in full Transition. “Sweet Merciful Tethys,” Kahmal whispered. “What are we going to do?" "He needs his meds,” Dorrie said, trembling. Dragging in breath as though she'd run a ten-mile marathon all out, Kahmal sprang back from the door as a huge paw studded with razor-sharp talons raked at the glass and a vicious howl echoed through the corridor. "Where are we going to get his meds?” Dorrie asked. Kahmal shook her head to clear it of the image that she knew would remain with her forever. “Oceania,” she managed to say. "Triso was outlawed on Oceania,” Dorrie told her. “Where else?" "Diabolusia."

"Too far away." The Amazeen's eyes shifted from side to side as she thought then she lifted her head. “Ionary,” she said. “There are pharmaceutical warehouses there, aren't there?" "There were,” Dorrie said. “I wouldn't know if they still exist." "It's worth a try,” Kahmal said. She hurried away from the loud bangs and reverberations that were rocking the containment cell. Sern was awaiting their destination, her hands paused over the keyboard. “Where?” she asked as Kahmal took the bridge. "Ionary,” Kahmal said. “Guilder's Cay. There are..." "Pharmaceutical manufacturing units,” Sern said, nodding as her fingers flew over the keys. “How are we going to obtain the Triso?" "We sure as hell can't buy it openly,” Dorrie reminded them. "We'll have to break into one of the warehouses,” Kahmal said. "Just transport me inside,” Dorrie said. "There will be safeguards in place to prevent that,” Tyrian said. "She's right,” Sern said. “We'll have to get it on the black market." "Really?” Dorrie snapped. “And how do you think we will be able to accomplish that? Do you know anyone in the black market on Guilder's Cay?" "I do,” Zainabu spoke up. “My brother Demissie is an arms dealer. He will be able to find us what we need. I am sure of it." "They are going to question why an Amazeen LRC is asking for admittance to their air space,” Aegean said. "Tell them the truth,” Kahmal said. “We need to repair both our E.S.U.s and the duplicator. While Zainabu contacts her brother, we will purchase what we need to make our repairs." "And take on some supplies until we can do those repairs,” Chanz added. “They can't deny us entry when we have a legitimate reason for needing to land." "We need to pick up some clothes for our Reaper,” Tyrian suggested. “I expect what he had on is now shredded." "Undoubtedly,” Kahmal agreed. “And I don't have anything else that will fit him." "I can handle that,” Deon said. She held up a hand. “Ionary Fleet Command is hailing us." "Open a channel,” Kahmal instructed, “and give them our request.” She listened as Deon explained their

problem to the I.F.C., nodding in agreement to the com officer's words. As soon as she heard the okay given for them to land, she relaxed and sat down in her command chair. "Let's hope they don't insist on inspecting us,” Aegean said. “This is a prison colony, remember?" "They'll be watching us, that's for sure, but more so when we leave than as we arrive,” Sern said. “How do we get hold of your brother, Zainabu?" "I know where he resides. I will go to him. Having him come here would be suspicious." "Aye, well, someone might question what a Necromanian woman is doing on an Amazeen ship,” Kahmal suggested. "I go to Rysalia Prime for the Feast,” Zainabu stated. “What other reason do I need?" "Works for me,” Dorrie pronounced. "I know nothing of Triso. Who will go with me to my brother's so we will get what we need?” Zainabu said. "Me,” Dorrie said. “I'm a med tech. I know exactly what to ask for." "Demissie will demand payment for the drug." Kahmal nodded and instructed Tyrian to fetch the box of credits from her quarters. “Bring it all." "Attention LRC theAlluvia ,” the Ionarian Fleet Command hailed. “You are not to attempt a docking until we have scanned your ship." "They'll see we have a man onboard!” Tyrian gasped. "He's not a man right now,” Sern said, lightly passing her psychic ability through Cree's mind. “He is all beast although he's more than aware of what's going on." Every woman on the bridge watched the IFC light scan as it pulsed slowly through their ship, inspecting everything on board. ""LRC theAlluvia ,” Ionary Fleet Command hailed them. “You are cleared to land. Please keep your were beasts onboard your vessel. We have strict laws governing such creatures. They are not welcome on Ionary." Kahmal smiled. “I bet that went over big with our Reaper." Sern winced at the outraged roar that came from the containment cell and ricocheted through her sensitive mind. TheAlluvia landed an hour later at the busy docking hub on Guilder's Cay. Dozens of ships were taking off and landing at regular intervals and security troopers were everywhere, their dark blue uniforms and laser impulse rifles announcing their presence on the docking hub. "We had to land on a penal colony,” Chanz complained. “By the goddess I hope they don't decide to do

a spot inspection and demand admittance." "They aren't about to board our ship,” Kahmal said. “Not with two were beasts onboard.” She turned to her crew. “Who's going to do what while we're here?" "'Dilla and I will scout for what we need to repair the duplicator and the E.S.U.s,” Chanz said. "I'll go shopping for some clothes for my.... “Deon stopped. “Who shall I say the clothes are for?" "Let me get the clothes,” Kahmal said. “No one will look twice at me when I mention the garments are for my breeders." "I imagine not,” Dorrie said. "I will also order enough supplies for the next two days,” Kahmal said. “I will have the supplies delivered while I am shopping for clothing." Sern, Deon, and Aegean stayed behind as Kahmal, Dorrie, Zainabu, Chanz and Tyrian left the ship. Aegean locked the ship down, keeping a close watch on the vid-coms to make sure no one tried to gain admittance to theAlluvia . **** Demissie Waberi was not happy to see his sister on his doorstep. He had not seen her in ten years and would have been just as happy to go another ten before having to deal with her again. He was less happy to see her accompanied by a white woman—a Terran at that. He stared down his hawk like nose at Zainabu, refusing to allow her to enter his hut. "What are you about, woman?” he demanded in his loud, base voice. “Why are you bothering me?" "We have business with you, my brother,” Zainabu said, not in the least inhibited by her brother's gruff manner. “Paying business." Sweeping his cautious gaze along the street, Demissie reluctantly stepped aside so the women could enter. “This had best be worth my time, Zain!" Dorrie wrinkled her nose at the harsh smell emanating from the interior of Waberi's abode. It was an overpowering stench that made her stomach juices curdle. "You are making ayana,” the Necromanian woman said. “It smells heavenly. Where did you find pig intestines on Ionary?" "You did not come here to discuss my culinary abilities. What is it you want?” her brother snarled. Zainabu looked to Dorrie. "A month's supply of Triso,” Dorrie replied. “Top-grade, pharmaceutical strength, as pure as possible." Waberi's eyebrows shot up. “You jest!” he said with a snort. Dorrie started to speak but stopped when the black woman at her side reached out, grabbed her brother by the front of his multi-colored caftan, and pushed him savagely against the wall. “Remember my

J'Bai?” Zainabu hissed. "Lares?” Waberi questioned. “Of course, I remember him. What...?" "It is for arafiki of my J'Bai. A man who deserves my aid for the great love he bore my J'Bai and my J'Bai bore him!" "No friend of Lares Taborn would willingly addict himself to Triso!” Waberi scoffed. “What game are you playing, Zain?" "It is for the Prime Reaper Kamerone Cree!” Zainabu stressed. Dorrie groaned. “Why don't you just shout it to the world, Zainabu?” she growled. "Kamerone Cree?” Waberi asked in a small, hushed voice. “The Prime Reaper is here on Ionary? I had heard he fled to Terra." "He did but he was brought back by Amazeen bounty hunters who are now his friends." Waberi's face showed his disbelief. “Amazeens do not befriend males,” he stated. "They do when Attribution has been declared!” his sister exclaimed. "Attribution?” Waberi gasped. He stared at her—gauging her truthfulness—then narrowed his eyes. “Woman, if you are lying...." "He is on an Amazeen ship and in full Transition. The duplicator is down and he could not get the Triso needed to keep him human,” Zainabu said. “We need your help, brother. The man is in agony!" Waberi shifted his hooded gaze to Dorrie. When she did not look away, he narrowed his eyes. “Where are you taking him, Pale One?" "To Rysalia Prime,” Dorrie answered. “To rescue his bloodkin from the fires at the Feast of Alluvial." The black man brutally shoved his sister away from him and began pacing, his gaze riveted to the floor. “It is not a matter of obtaining the Triso. That I can easily do. I have a year's supply buried beneath this very floor. It is a matter of obtaining the kind a Reaper needs for his purposes. This is pure, and that I can only get from one of the pharmacy warehouses." "How long will it take you to do that?” Dorrie asked. “He needs the meds now and we don't have that long before we must be in Rysalia Prime." "We know about the planned executions, of course,” Waberi said, ignoring her question. “I also know there are others who are intent on stopping the Reaper cadets from being killed and are on their way there even now." "Others?” Dorrie repeated, fear running down her back. “What others?" "Serenians, members of a rebel force led by one called McGregor,” Waberi answered. “They bought weapons and electronics from me for their ship just yesterday."

"Do you know how they plan on rescuing the Reaper cadets?” Dorrie asked. "A man does not ask such things, Pale One,” Waberi snapped. “What one does not know, one can not reveal. What I do know is they are on their way to Rysalia with software that will hide them from the Multitude's watchdogs." "Scaan technology?” his sister asked. Waberi shook his head. “A different breed of software." "What kind of software?” Zainabu demanded. "The kind that will show all life forms on their ship as female,” Waberi replied. “A very fine piece of engineering is that small chip from Amhantar." "And handy,” Dorrie observed. "When can you obtain the Triso, brother?” Zainabu asked him. “We can not remain long on Ionary." "Give me an hour,” Waberi answered. “It will take that long to contact my employees in the pharmacy warehouse. I will send them to your ship with the meds.” He asked where their ship was docked and its name. "If you can find out anything about the Serenian ship, it would be of help to us,” Dorrie told Waberi. “Neither of us needs to be going into this with ignorance of the other." The dark man nodded. “I see the wisdom in that. I will do what I can,” Waberi replied. “Now, go. The authorities may be watching and I've no desire to be dragged in for questioning again this week!" "Do you trust him?” Dorrie asked as she and Zainabu headed back to theAlluvia . "As much as any man can be trusted,” Zainabu replied. “Did you see the look in his eye when I mentioned the Prime Reaper?" "Aye and I wish you hadn't done that,” Dorrie said. "Demissie poses no threat to Cree. He has long since hero-worshipped the Reapers and all for which they stood. He would no more compromise the Prime Reaper than turn himself over to the authorities he fears so deeply.” She smirked. “I never thought to see my brother afraid of anything! It amuses me greatly." "Well, I hope his employees aren't prone to being snitches,” Dorrie grumbled. "What are snitches?” Zainabu asked. "People who tell what they know to the authorities for money or to put themselves beyond liability with the law." "Ah,” Zainabu replied. “Such would not be the case of those who work for my brother. He would flay them alive. Trust me."

Dorrie spied Chanz and Tyrian across the market area from them but did not greet them. The two were haggling with a shopkeeper and were deep in negotiations. She watched a young man walking toward the Alluvia with a box of supplies. Even from a distance, she could see the man's nervousness at having to approach an Amazeen ship. "I hope there is no milk in the box he carries,” Zainabu said with a smirk. “It will be butter before he leaves it." Dorrie and the Necromani waited until the young man had delivered his goods before heading for the ship. Back onboard, Dorrie could not sit down. She paced from one end of the bridge to the other, chewing on her thumb nail—a nervous habit that wore on Sern's nerves. "What ails you, Burkhart?” Sern inquired. She had once tried to delve into the Terran woman's mind only to find it a quagmire of perversity that made her feel unclean. She'd retreated quickly and tried to refrain from going seeking in that marsh again. "Zainabu's brother said there were others going after the Reapers on Rysalia Prime.” She turned to look at Sern. “A man named McGregor is their leader." "Isn't that the royal house of Serenia?” Aegean asked. "Aye, it is,” Dorrie replied. "You need to tell the Major,” Aegean said. "I will and Cree will need to know, too." "If we have help in saving Cree's bloodkin, why should that so concern you?” Sern queried. "What if the Daughters know there will be a rescue attempt?” Dorrie asked. “They'll be on high security alert. It will be next to impossible to break the cadets free.” A look of horror sped across her face. “Or to get Kam out of there safely." "We have to trust that the goddess will keep Her part of the bargain She made with Cree,” Sern said. “He was promised he could take his men and leave. Remember?" Zainabu was following the conversation between the Terran and the Amazeen. She had few dealings with the Multitude and bore as much mistrust of them as did her menfolk but there was one person she did trust and that was the goddess to whom all women of her galaxy owed allegiance. "If the goddess made such a promise to Cree, She will make sure it comes to pass,” the Necromanian woman stated. “This I know to be a fact." "I hope you're right,” Dorrie said. **** Crouched in the corner of the containment cell, Kamerone Cree had long sense lost the human ability to speak. He was immersed completely in the persona of his bestial self and was beyond listening in to the concerns of the women. His body hurt so badly he could do nothing save whimper. It had been over twenty-four hours since his last intake of Sustenance, two days since Triso had dredged through his veins to calm the agony of the parasite coiling and uncoiling over his right kidney. His savage instincts had been

intensified and he was now in a dark, agonizing place that had elevated his body temperature to such heights his blood was boiling in his veins. His fur was soaked, pressed tightly to his heaving flesh and he was hassling as he tried to cool his raging skin. Now and again, he would whine pitifully, his crimson eyes rolling in his head as pain trumpeted through him in wave after unrelenting wave. Although his animal persona had taken control of him, his memories were intact and they were hounding him, nipping at his heels as he tried to get away from them. **** "I don't want your excuses, Cree,” she had said, her voice cold. They had stared at one another for a long time, and then his words had broken the silence. "What is it that you want then?” he had asked her. His heart was breaking for he already knew the answer. He had read it in her mind. "I want you to leave." The pain had been so much worse than any re-enforcement therapy he had ever undergone. It hurt far worse than any agony ever inflicted upon him. And it had broken his spirit. "Where am I to go?” he had whispered, tears filling his eyes. “What am I to do, Bridget?" Bridget's words were like pinpricks to his heart. “I don't care where you go or what you do. If you can't go in there and pick up our son, hold our son, I want nothing more to do with you, Kamerone." Sorrow welled up in his soul as the memory came back to taunt him. She had cast him from her life, tossed him away as the useless thing he believed himself to be. She had wanted nothing more to do with him. Tylan Kahn's face floated through his mind's eye and another memory came flooding back to tear at his heart. They had taken Bridget from him and given her to Kahn... "Are you well, milady?” he had asked. His hungry gaze passed over her worried face. "Yes,” she had replied in a broken voice, her misery very real and laid bare for any and all to see. Cree saw the tears forming and felt like ripping the room apart in his fury. “Has he hurt you?" Bridget shook her head. “No. He's been very good to me." "Has he.... “Cree could not ask. His attention shifted from his woman to the man standing too near to her. “Did he.... “He swallowed. “I wanted to be sure he had not done anything to you,” was all he could say. "What the hell are you implying, Cree?” Kahn had snapped. “What was it you thought I would do?" "You know your reputation better than I do, Kahn,” Cree shot back. Their eyes locked and he thought he could see a smirk in the Admiral's. It drove him absolutely insane. “If you have dared use my woman.."

"Just what do you think you could do about it if I have?" **** Horrendous sorrow swamped Cree's brain and though his tongue could not speak human words, he whined—the only way he had to relieve the mental agony. Bridget, he thought, my Bridget. Or did she now belong at last to Tylan Kahn? The animal within him snarled at the thought of his mate being touched by another male. She was his! Only he had the right to mate with her, care for her. Only he had the right to sow his seed within her. A low, keening sound came from the bestial throat. It was a sound of loneliness, hopelessness, and utter misery.

Chapter Four "Is that the ship?” Andeana Ramirez asked the woman walking beside her. Lupe Sanchez nodded. “TheAlluvia .” She shuddered. “I don't like the looks of it." Between the two women, they had two months supply of pharmaceutical-grade Trisomine which they had pilfered from the facility where they worked. Barely escaping being caught by a watchman, they knew they would not be able to return to the warehouse again. Waberi would have to find them new jobs within his organization. They dared not allow themselves to be caught for possession of any amount of Triso was punishable by life-long imprisonment. Being found out might even earn them each a death sentence. "We are being followed,” Ramirez said for the fifth time. She glanced behind them but was unable to see their pursuer. "You are afraid of your own shadow, Deana,” Sanchez declared. “There is no one behind us." "I can feel him,” Ramirez insisted. "You are imagining things,” Sanchez told her. "Lupe, I am afraid." "You are a coward,” Sanchez corrected. “We will finish our task and leave. Stop standing there gawking around as if you expect something to jump out at us!" They had reached the Amazeen LRC and Sanchez looked up at the vid-com camera. “We are here to see Zainabu Waberi, sister of Demissie,” she stated. "Is anyone watching them?” Sern asked Aegean. "None that I can see."

"Then let them onboard." Aegean disengaged the lock on the entry portal, scanning the women as they boarded the ship. Satisfied they carried no weapons she allowed them onto the bridge. "We were followed,” Ramirez said as soon as they joined the Amazeens. "She doesn't know what she's talking about,” Sanchez bit out. “No one followed us." "I think he did,” Deon said, pointing to a man lurking about the docking bay, glancing furtively from time to time toward theAlluvia . Ramirez went to a vid-com and leaned toward the screen. “It is Ortega!” she declared, her hand quivering at her throat. “I knew we were being followed!" "Who is Ortega?” Sern asked. "The security chief of Osana Pharmaceutical,” Sanchez answered. “By the goddess, I didn't see him mincing along behind us, brutish little turd that he is." "I told you,” Ramirez said. “I told you we were being followed!" "Aye, you did,” Sanchez said on a long sigh. "We can't let him arrest us,” Ramirez said, wringing her hands. “He likes to torture people before he turns them over to the authorities." "The Major's back,” Aegean reported. “Chanz and Tyrian are with her." "Do you have the Triso?” Sern asked. "Aye, but you were to give us the money and we were to take it back to Waberi,” Sanchez answered. “If we don't, he'll come after us and...." "He will slit our throats!” Ramirez said, whining as though she was about to begin sobbing. "I will explain for you,” Zainabu said. She and Dorrie had come on to the bridge together. "Sern?” Kahmal inquired, looking up into the vid-com. “Why is the portal locked?" With her psychic ability homed in on the Major, Sern silently warned her of the man lurking near the docking bay. She told her the women were there with the Triso but they dared not disembark for fear of being taken into custody. "Open the portal and let us in,” Kahmal said. “We'll deal with any subsequent problems once we're on board." The lock cycled open and the Major and the two Amazeen warrioresses with her entered the ship. Kahmal came straight to the Com monitor and asked to see the man in question. "That one,” Sern pointed out.

Kahmal turned to the Ionarian women. “Does he know for a certainty you stole drugs from the warehouse?" "He could only suspect,” Sanchez replied. “We were careful with what we took. Inventory control won't find it missing for at least a week. We don't dare go back." "You couldn't have been too careful or the bastard wouldn't have followed you,” Kahmal stated. "If he even suspects we took Triso,” Ramirez said, shuddering, “our lives are forfeit." "How much did you bring with you?” Kahmal asked. "Two months supply,” Sanchez answered "We only paid him for one month,” Kahmal stated. “Why did he send two?" "Waberi said the second month was his gift to the man who needed it,” Sanchez explained. "Did he tell you who it was for?” Zainabu asked. Sanchez shook her head. “No, milady. We didn't want to know." Kahmal tucked her lower lip between her teeth. “The electronic supplies should be here shortly. We can't leave until we have what we need." "What's to become of us?” Ramirez asked. Her hands were tumbling over and over one another in her agitation. "These women can't leave the ship. If the security agent scans these women, he'll find traces of the Triso on them,” Sern warned. “He'll know they brought it to us and inform the authorities we have the med." "Then we'd better come up with a plausible reason for these women to stay onboard theAlluvia ,” Dorrie said. "What plausible reason?” Sern inquired. "We're dead meat,” Ramirez whined. "We won't let that happen,” Kahmal said. “Open a line to Tobora Electronics, Deon." **** Jose Ortega lifted his foot and placed it on the base of the stanchion by which he was standing. Taking out his handkerchief, he bent down to swipe at a smudge on the toe of his highly shined boot, making sure he kept a keen eye on the Amazeen ship that Sanchez and Ramirez had boarded. He had only his suspicions that the women were up to no good. Ramirez had been acting strangely, turning to look behind her every few minutes, as she and Sanchez left the warehouse for their noonday meal. Now considering where they had gone, he was convinced the women were guilty of something. What were the two doing on an Amazeen ship of all places? A quartet of deliverymen walked past where Ortega was standing, all heading for the ship in question.

He reached out to the last man. “Who are you with?” he asked. The deliveryman recognized the security man. “Tobora Electronics, milord,” the man answered, fear of Ortega hovering in his pale gray eyes. “We are providing components for the Amazeen ship's duplicator." "And where is the ship bound?” Ortega asked, his beady eyes narrowing. "They are on their way to Rysalia Prime for the Feast of Alluvial,” the man replied, relaying what his manager had told him to say should they be stopped for any reason. "They stopped here to pick up Daughters wishing to attend the Feast. You know how it is with the Multitude and their silliness." "Aye, silliness is just what it is,” Ortega said and motioned the man on his way. He stared at the Amazeen ship as the deliverymen handed over the equipment to two tall women with fierce expressions. Deciding Sanchez and Ramirez were even more stupid than he thought to follow the dictates of a bizarre cult, he turned and sauntered away, cursing himself for wasting time. He made a mental note to see the women were fired summarily for traipsing off to some ridiculous female celebration. **** "I don't know if it is wise to do this,” Kahmal said as Dorrie loaded the vac-syringe. “Going into the cell with him...." "He won't hurt me,” Dorrie said. She held the vac-syringe up and flicked the glass barrel with her middle finger. “I'm not afraid of him." Kahmal walked with her to the elevator that would take them down to the cargo hold and the containment cell. She glanced at Dorrie out of the corner of her eye. “Was it love at first sight for you, Burkhart?” she asked. “Have you always loved him?" Dorrie snorted. “Not gods-be-damned likely,” she said and thought of the first time she'd come into contact with Kamerone Cree. “I believe the first words I ever said to him were we are going to restrain you now." "I would imagine he did not like that." "Hated it,” Dorrie said. “We tortured him that day. There was no other way to describe what we did.” She shrugged. “At first, I was impersonal about it. Hell, it was my job and I hated the Rysalians and especially the Reapers—Kamerone Cree being right at the top of my list but then.... “She stopped as the elevator settled and the doors shushed open. "But then?” Kahmal questioned. "Then I saw him cry,” she said softly and preceded the Amazeen from the elevator. "Seeing him cry bothered you?” Kahmal pressed. "It was the sixth morning of his stay in the Be-Mod unit,” Dorrie said. “He actually told me good morning and that shocked me.” She stopped, looking down at the vac-syringe. “He had been in there longer than any patient we'd ever had and Bridie had slipped behind the director's back and given him a sedative because he hadn't slept in five days. I think by then all of us were feeling a bit protective of him."

"Why?” Kahmal asked. “After all, he was a Reaper. Such treatment was normal for him wasn't it?" "Not at the hands of a woman,” Dorrie said. She twisted the vac-syringe, watching the play of the overhead lights on the glass barrel. “No woman had ever hurt him before. No woman had ever dared.” She closed her eyes. “We almost lost him that day. He flat lined. He needed Triso and I went after it for him." "Against orders?" Dorrie nodded. “I could have been hanged if they'd caught me but at that point I didn't care. He was so helpless, so grateful for even the smallest hint of kindness we gave him that it tore at my heart.” She sighed. “I gave him the Triso and Bridie stayed with him because he didn't want her to leave him. As I walked away, I realized I was beginning to have feelings for him that I shouldn't. From then on my hand lingered longer and longer on his body when I was helping take care of him." "Mayhap he spread a glamour over you,” Kahmal suggested. “Sent you a subliminal." "No, he was too weak for such things and the neuroinhibitors flooding his system would not have allowed it. He was unable to send any kind of enthrallment our way." They made their way to the door of the containment cell. "I will always regret having hurt him as I did by going after him,” Kahmal said, staring at the door to the con cell. "I hurt him badly once,” Dorrie said. “Cut him right to the quick." "How?" Dorrie's eyes brightened with unshed tears. “When he was in the Be-Mod unit, there were sublims being fed to him. Sublims to make him need Bridie, to fall in love with her so he would aid the Resistance. I told him about them." Her words came back to haunt Dorrie:"Did you really think she would fall in love with you without a little help from us, Cree?" "What happened when he found out?" "Nothing,” Dorrie said. She motioned for Kahmal to open the door to the cell. "Are you sure you want to do this?” the Amazeen asked. "Just open the door,” Dorrie snapped. Kahmal took a deep breath and punched in the code, taking out her laser gun set to heavy stun to be on the safe side. "You won't need that,” Dorrie told her. “He won't come out until he's no danger to us.” She slipped past the door and into the containment cell.

He was crouched in the corner, his eyes boring into her as she slowly approached him. She knelt down beside him. "I have your med, Kami,” she said quietly, reaching out to stroke the wet fur of the beast. It growled at her, showing its teeth, but she did not snatch her trembling hand back. She continued to smooth the beast's matted coat until it stopped growling and gave a single, pitiful whimper. "I know you are hurting, baby,” she said. “I'm here to make it better." Tears brightened Dorrie's eyes as she bent over the beast. Sweeping aside a section of the wet hair on the side of the beast's neck, she eased the needle into its flesh. So drained was the animal, it barely flinched as the thick, fiery liquid shot through its system. It simply sighed, quivered, and lay still. "Get out of there, Dorrie,” Kahmal ordered. Dorrie got to her feet and backed away slowly, making no sudden moves that might be misconstrued in the Reaper's glazed eyes. “It's all right, baby,” she said. “Everything is going to be all right.” She was barely out the door before she heard a yowl that raised the hair on her arms. As the lock to the containment cell door clicked to behind her, she slumped against the wall, her face in her hands. "I'll stay here until he's out of Transition,” Kahmal said gently. She had a dark green jumpsuit clutched in her arms and on the floor beside her was another pair of boots she hoped was the right size since the pair Prince Kamau had given Cree had ripped apart and was lying in pieces in the containment cell. Dorrie was sobbing. Her heart ached for the proud man who had been reduced to the pathetic animal in the cell. She'd seen him many times at some of the lowest points in his life, but she'd never seen him looking as hopeless as she had in the containment cell. "If I could get hold of the bitch who cursed him like that, I'd strangle her,” Dorrie said of the Reaper's long-dead mother. Kahmal's eyebrows drew together. “What do you mean? What woman? What curse?" Dorrie ran the back of her hand under her nose. “You don't know how he came to be a Reaper?" "I know he was made, but I never cared enough to ask how,” Kahmal stated. "Well, it's something you need to know. It goes a long way in explaining who he is." "Then I am interested in learning." "His mother cursed him before he was born,” Dorrie said. “She was one of the fabled Seven Sisters of the Sword, daughters of the royal house of Brell in Chale." "I vaguely remember Hael Sejm saying something about the Seven Sisters. She was one of them." Dorrie nodded and leaned against the wall. “They were attacked and raped by a band of Rysalians led by Drae Cree, Kam's father. All but one of them conceived, the exception being Sejm whom no man ever wanted to mount more than once." "Understandable,” Kahmal said dryly. “Who would want to hump such a witch?"

"Because they'd been abducted from their home on Chale, raped and handed over as chattel to their rapists, Analeis Brell—Kamerone's mother—cursed the men and anything that might come of the rape. Analeis was Morrígú, the Seventh Daughter of a Seventh Daughter born with a caul, and her curse was fulfilled. When Kamerone was born, he was in beastly form but when he began changing to human form, his mother took on the animal nature herself. Drae Cree thought she was a beast trying to devour his son—for Analeis was cleaning off the afterbirth—and he killed her." "So in essence she not only cursed her unborn child, she cursed herself,” Kahmal said. "She became the beast she had made of her son,” Dorrie said. A long howl of grief undulated from the containment cell. "Help him!” Dorrie cried out to whatever entity was nearby. “Stop his torment!" Another wavering whine came from the cell, but it died down quickly as though an unseen hand had been laid on the suffering animal's head to soothe it. **** Sanchez and Ramirez were none too happy about traveling with the Amazeen but neither had a great desire to have Jose Ortega get his grubby hands on them. The Ionarians had taken the Major up on her offer to take them with her to Rysalia Prime. From there, they hoped to be able to find their way back to Ionary. At least with the Daughters of the Multitude they believed they'd be safe. It wasn't until the Reaper walked into the lounge and began glaring at them that they knew they had gone from the frying pan directly into the fire. "More women?” the Reaper shouted, his hands clenching into fists at his side. “You picked up more women?" "Now, Cree...” the Major began. "C ... Cree?” Ramirez repeated. "I didn't need any more gods-be-damned women! I'm drowning in estrogen now!" "Reaper!” Ramirez yelped, her eyes rolled back into her head and she fainted, dropping to the floor in a heap. "See?” Cree snarled, pointing at the unconscious woman. “You see?" Sanchez was staring at him with her mouth open and closing though no sound came out, her eyes wide and popping from her head. Like her friend, she knew exactly what he was and she was quivering in fright for the first time in her life. "Shut your mouth, woman!” Cree yelled at her. “You look like a gods-be-damned trout flopping on the bank of a dry stream!" "Stop scaring her,” Kahmal told him. “If it wasn't for her, you wouldn't have gotten the Triso!" "I don't need this!” the Reaper bellowed and turned to stomp off, his new boots too large for his feet and

clomping against the floor. It was Sern who was the first to laugh. She had read things in the Reaper's mind that set her sides to splitting with laughter. Beside her, Ceatie was grinning as though he understood what had set his humanoid mistress to cackling with mirth. "Poor Kamerone,” Dorrie said, prying herself up out of her misery. “He's got two more females to worry about." "Reaper,” Sanchez repeated and had to fold her hands under her arm pits to keep them from trembling so violently. "Aye,” Chanz agreed, “but he's our Reaper." **** Dorrie sat down beside him as he hunkered once more in the containment cell. It was there he had gone to exorcize the demons that were riding him with jagged spurs. She leaned against his leg and it was an indication of how drained he was that he didn't order her not to touch him. "Just consider us your harem, Kam,” she said. "It's not funny, Dorrie,” he muttered. “I don't need all this pressure on my shoulders." "It's all in the perspective, baby,” she teased. "Ten women,” he bemoaned. “Ten fucking women." "Some of us would be if you'd allow it but...." He growled a warning at her. "Okay, okay. We'll be at Rysalia Prime day after tomorrow,” she informed him. “You'll be exchanging ten of us for ten thousand." "Don't remind me,” he said on a long sigh. "You'll look back on this time and have plenty of stories to tell Jaelin,” she said, caressing his knee. “Just think of the insulting things you can impart to him about the weaker sex." Cree snorted. “Weaker my sore ass,” he responded. "Want me to stroke it and make it better?” she offered. He sighed again. “Dorrie...." "Do you remember the first time we met?” she asked. "I remember you jamming an airline down my throat in the Be-Mod unit,” he answered. “And you were none too gentle doing it, wench." "Aye, well, you weren't breathing,” she said. “I wasn't going to tippy toe putting in the tube."

"And you gave me Triso when I wasn't supposed to get it." "Did I do that?" "You know gods-be-damned well you did,” he countered with a yawn. "What can I say? I'm a sucker for sexy amber eyes." "Dorrie to the rescue,” he said and surprised the hell out of her by laying his head on her shoulder. “Gods, but I'm tired. My head hurts,” he said. "Lay it right here, stud,” she said, patting her lap and was shocked even more when he did as she suggested. He slid his hand under the upper part of her leg and curled his fingers around her thigh. They sat like that for a long while. At some point, his free hand crept around hers and their fingers entwined. She stroked his forehead and hummed gently. "You're a good friend to me, Dorrie,” she heard him say. "Aye, well, I'd make you a better lover." He made a chuffing sound to that statement. In a few moments, she knew by his breathing that he was sleeping. **** "What kind of ship?” Kahmal asked. She'd been awakened after only an hour of rest and was out of sorts as she hurried beside Chanz. "We believe its Serenian,” Chanz reported. “A StarRaider class with one hell of a heat signature. It is loaded to the gills with weapons." "Did you try to raise it?" "Aye, but they are ignoring us. We did a scan and it's a vessel manned exclusively by women." "Aye, well the scan may be accurate but then again it might not,” Kahmal said, “if they have the engineering Waberi mentioned to Zainabu and Dorrie, there could be men on that ship." "Could they be going where we're going?” Aegean inquired. "Serenians on their way to Rysalia Prime for the Feast?” Sern questioned. “I wouldn't think so. They have Daughters of the Multitude on Serenia but they aren't as rabid as the ones on Rysalia Prime." "What about Serenians on their way to rescue Reaper cadets?” Dorrie asked, hope glowing in her cornflower blue eyes. “What you want to bet there's a man in there with the last name McGregor?" "If they are heading for Rysalia Prime to rescue the cadets, they'd better have men on board,” Chanz said, “for Serenian women aren't known for their fighting skills.” She thought for a moment. “Although I've heard the royal house has had some pretty powerful warrior women in the past."

"Maybe their leader is a McGregor woman,” Dorrie suggested. “Could this be the ship your brother mentioned?" "Demissie said it was a man with whom he dealt,” Zainabu insisted. “He would not deal with a woman. You saw how reluctant he was to deal with me and I am family." "If the StarRaider docks on Rysalia Prime, they will be inspected, not just scanned. You and I both know the Rysalians aren't going to allow even a single male anywhere near the Titaness,” Dorrie said. “If the Serenians are mounting a rescue they'd know that and it stands to reason they'd send only women. I imagine the scan is accurate where this ship is concerned. Try opening a channel, Deon,” Kahmal ordered. Deon did as she was told. “Unknown Serenian StarRaider. This is the LRC theAlluvia captained by Major Akkadia Kahmal on route to Rysalia Prime. What is your destination?" Silence met the hail. "They are gearing up their weapons,” Aegean said quietly. "Expecting us to attack them?” Kahmal inquired, her eyes wide. "So it would seem." "Put me on screen,” Kahmal ordered. "Unknown Serenian StarRaider, I am...." "We know who you are, ‘Kadia." An image settled on the vid-com screen and Kahmal slumped back in her seat. She stared at the young woman who was glaring at her. “It's been a long time, Raphaella,” Kahmal said. "Not long enough,” the daughter of the Domestic queen stated. “Turn your ship around and go back to Amazeen or we will blow you out of the sky. Believe me when I tell you we have the capability and the desire to do so." "I am on a mission to Rysalia Prime,” Kahmal stated. "It doesn't matter. Turn back or suffer the consequences of your failure to do as I command,” Raphaella snapped. Cree walked onto the bridge at that moment. He stared at the beautiful woman on the vid-com and wondered why she bore Kahmal such hatred. He switched his gaze to Sern. "She is the Princess Raphaella, daughter of the Domestic Queen. She is Terran born so that accounts for her rudeness,"Sern sent to him."And she is a traitor to our people. There is a bounty for her capture." "What did she do?"

"She helped a Reaper escape Amazeen, taking four members of his crew with them. If she's caught she will be executed for her crime." "Which Reaper did she aid?" Sern frowned."Why don't you ask her? She is priming her weapons to annihilate us and I've got my hands full here, Cree." The Reaper walked over to Kahmal's command chair and laid his hands on the Amazeen Major's shoulders, feeling her tense beneath his touch. “Princess Raphaella,” he said. “I am Kamerone Cree." Raphaella gasped, the sound loud over the vid-com. “Cree,” she whispered, the word said in awe. “That is your mission, Akkadia? Taking the Prime Reaper to Rysalia Prime for execution?" "I understand there is a bounty out for you,” Cree continued. “As one who knows all too intimately the feel of an Amazeen noose tightening around his neck, I can sympathize." "Why are you not restrained?” Raphaella asked. "There is no reason to shackle him,” Kahmal said. “He's a free man." "You are not a prisoner on Kahmal's ship?” Raphaella asked, her gaze locked on Cree. "It started out that way,” he admitted. "But no longer?" "Attribution was declared by me, Lt. Melankhoia Chanz and Lt. Cirolia Sern,” Kahmal said, reaching up to cover one of Cree's hands with hers. “Our lives belong to him as does the loyalty of my crew." "Attribution,” Raphaella said. “That is an honorable act, indeed, and deserving of your loyalty, ‘Kadia." "It is a loyalty he has richly earned and we mean to uphold,” Kahmal said. “That holds for my entire crew." Raphaella seemed to relax. “Reapers are not what we were led to believe, are they, ‘Kadia?" "I only know this one and he is nothing like the way he was portrayed to me,” Kahmal responded. "We would appreciate it if you would have your gunners stand down,” Cree said. “I've got enough of a headache already without having the top of my cranium blown off in the bargain." Raphaella nodded and looked off to one side, apparently giving the order to her crew. "How is it you are in command of a Serenian vessel, Raphie?” Kahmal asked. "You are going to Rysalia Prime?” Raphaella countered, ignoring the question. "To rescue my bloodkin,” Cree admitted. "Like father, like son,” Raphaella said.

Cree stiffened. “Son? Of whom do you speak?" "If you are caught there, you will be hanged,” Kahmal said, knowing full well the identity of the son to whom Raphaella referred. “You know that, Raphaella." Raphaella cocked a shoulder. “We all have to die sometime,” she said. “Unless you're a Reaper." "Even Reaper's die, young one,” Cree told her. He did not miss Kahmal trying to forestall the identity of the Reaper to whom Raphaella alluded. "Not on my watch they won't,” Raphaella said. “Your bloodkin will not meet the fate set aside for them. I am here to make sure of that. We will run interference for those snatching the cadets from harm's way. There isn't a ship in the Rysalian fleet that can hold a candle to mine and we are loaded with more firepower than you can imagine." "You have a McGregor woman on board?” Dorrie asked, coming to stand beside Cree. Raphaella nodded. “Maeve Lynne McGregor? Who are you and why do you ask?" "She's the leader,” Dorrie whispered to Cree. “Not this one." "I wouldn't be so sure,” Kahmal disagreed. "I am Dorrie Burkhart, a Terran once hostage of the Rysalians." "Why do you ask about McGregor?” Raphaella persisted. "I was the mate of Prince Raine McGregor,” Dorrie said. “On Terra." "He is my cousin!” a young blonde woman said as she rushed to Raphaella's side. “He is alive? He is well?" "When we were taken from Terra he was,” Dorrie replied. She looked at the woman and had to admit she certainly didn't look like a war leader. She was petite and rather fragile-looking. "Why are you being hunted, young one?” Cree asked Raphaella, deciding she was the one in charge. “What crime did you commit against your race?" Raphaella lifted her chin, her eyes flashing with pride. “Nothing of consequence, milord Prime Reaper. I am merely the mate of Khiershon Cree and it was I who set him free!"

Chapter Five Khiershon Cree, eldest son of Kamerone, rolled over in the over-sized bunk and gathered his wife to him. He nuzzled her neck to wake her. “You are becoming lazy in your advancing years, Cait,” he murmured, his tongue swirling over her flesh. "You wore me out last night, Reaper,” Caitlin said with a grunt. “You are insatiable."

"Only where you are concerned,” he stated. A chime sounded and the vid-com came on. “'And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting',” Khiershon's cybot answered the incoming call. "Knock it off, Raven,” Iyan McGregor snapped in an annoyed voice. “Khier, you're needed on the bridge." "'Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning',” the ‘bot said and trundled away. "Was he in here again last night?” Caitlin demanded of her husband. Khiershon sighed. “I believe he was." "Voyeur!” Caitlin shouted after the ‘bot. “Peeping Tom!" "'By you—by yours, the evil eye,—by yours, the slanderous tongue',” Raven snipped. "I'll pull your plug, Raven!” Caitlin vowed. "'No more—no more upon thy verdant slopes!'” the ‘bot rattled off, shaking its cumbersome head. "You'd best believe not, Raven!” Caitlin flung at the retreating A.I.U. "'Nevermore.’” Khiershon laughed. He'd programmed the ‘bot with the words of a famous Terran poet and it seemed to irritate Caitlin no end. "Khier?” McGregor demanded. “Did you hear what I said?" "Aye, Iyan, I heard you. I'm on my way." Caitlin watched her husband fling aside the covers and walk naked to the closet to retrieve his uniform. She liked to watch the play of muscles on his brawny body and never grew tired of ogling him. He shunned underwear and was stepping into the sleek tight black leather britches that fit him so lovingly. "Don't be calling Raven a voyeur, wench,” the Reaper threw over his shoulder. “My cheeks are burning from the heat of your stare." "Which set of cheeks, milord?” she asked innocently, folding the sheet down from her lush breasts. "Stop teasing,” he warned as he plucked a black silk shirt from among the many that hung in his wardrobe. Caitlin lifted her arms and stretched, her bare nipples rising in invitation. “I don't know what you mean,” she said with a yawn. He was flying through the air and landing on her before she could scramble away, his powerful body pressing her into the mattress, his hands on her breasts, and his mouth at the tempting hollow of her throat. “Stay right here until I return, wench,” he ordered. “I won't be long."

Caitlin lowered her arms and ran her hands through his thick dark brown hair, anchoring his head to her throat as he licked at her flesh, moving lower to claim one rosy nipple before he released her and got up from the bunk. She sighed as he began tucking his shirt into his britches. “I like you naked beneath the sheets with me, Reaper,” she said. "No more so than I like being there, wench,” he retorted, sitting on the edge of the bunk to pull on his boots, “but duty calls." "No, McGregor calls,” Caitlin said with a snort. "Same thing,” he reminded her and was out the door before she could tell him goodbye. Walking down the corridor to the elevator that would take him up to theDarkWind's bridge, Khiershon passed two of the Terran women who had been members of the ship's crew when it had been a Terran medivac ship called theOrion . He nodded to the women. "How's Cait this morning?” Pat Rasey inquired. "Satiated beyond her wildest dreams, Pitty Pat,” he said smugly and continued on his way. He could feel the women staring after him and grinned. He liked annoying Cait's friends almost as much as he enjoyed aggravating his own. Iyan was pacing in front of the command chair when Khiershon took the bridge. "Captain on the bridge!” Dakim Hesar, the Com Officer, called out simply because he knew it irritated the Reaper. "Everyone at ease save Hesar!” Khiershon muttered. He felt a niggling worry crawling down his spine and flexed his shoulders. “What's going on, Iyan?" "She took the gods-be-damned StarRaider,” Iyan snapped. “Her and a crew of sixty Serenian and Oceanian women warrioresses with nothing better to do than to drive a sane man to drink! Imagine what she's doing to me!" Khiershon frowned. “Who?" "That Amazeen virago of yours!” Iyan told him. “She loaded the cruiser down with laser pulse cannons and left Corinth two days after we did! We just picked up her signal and believe me when I say I could throttle that woman!" Groaning, Khiershon dropped down into the captain's command chair. “Where the fuck is she now?” His worry was growing in leaps and bounds and it was an unease that disturbed him greatly. "At last report sitting somewhere near Ionary in a face off with an Amazeen LRC.” At Khiershon's grimace, Iyan nodded. “Aye and with weapons primed and locked on target." "The stupid little bitch,” Khiershon cursed. “How far away are we?" "Not close enough to intervene before she engages in full all out combat with the LRC,” Iyan complained.

"We need that StarRaider,” Khiershon stated. “It's the only vessel we have that has enough power and equipment to get us to Terra once we have my bloodkin in tow." "TheOrion got us to Montyne Vex,” Marti Holloway, the Terran who had been an engineer on theOrion and was now co-engineer along with Nyndham Dax of theDarkWind said. “It can get us back to Terra." "Not with the amount of crew we'll have on board by then,” Dax disagreed. “We'll need more E.S.U.s and containment cells." "And theDarkWind is not as quick as the StarRaider nor does it have as much firepower,” Khiershon put in. "Aye, well, there's that,” Marti acknowledged. "I told Raphaella to stay in Corinth,” Khiershon grumbled. “Why the hell didn't she listen to me?" "I imagine she calls herself protecting you,” Iyan replied. "She's more apt to get herself and her crew killed,” Khiershon complained. "And the StarRaider blown to bits or so disabled it will be worthless to us,” Iyan added. "What do you want to do?” Sinjin Wynth, the navigator asked. "We're four days away from Rysalia Prime,” Iyan reminded Khiershon. “If we go to Raphie's aid, we run the risk of not being where we need to be when your bloodkin are brought out for execution. If we don't lock on to them as soon as they are out of the Titaness, we can kiss their asses goodbye." "We'll have one chance and one chance only so we've got to time it just right,” Wynth declared. "Aye, I know,” Khiershon said. He plowed a hand through his hair. “What's happening with the StarRaider?" "Still sitting there,” Hesar reported. “They're carrying on a conversation and...” His eyebrows shot up. “She's powering down her weapons." "Is the bitch surrendering?” Iyan hissed. He reached up to tug two handfuls of his hair. “By the gods, she can't be giving the Amazeen my gods-be-damned StarRaider!" "Can you patch in their communications to our vid-com?” Khiershon queried, glancing at Iyan. “Stop pulling your hair out, McGregor. You don't have all that much to begin with." Hesar's fingers sped over the keyboard and Raphaella's voice came over the vid-com loud and clear: ".. I am merely the mate of Khiershon Cree and it was I who set him free!" Iyan turned a horrified face to the Reaper and saw a dark red stain spreading over Cree's complexion. “Who the hell is she bragging to?” McGregor gasped. "Open a channel to her, Bryan,” Khiershon said between clenched teeth. “Now!"

Despite all Bryan could do, any transmission between theDarkWind and Raphaella's ship could not be linked. “She's got a block on all incoming messages,” Bryan reported. "What about the other ship?” Iyan barked. “Do we have any idea who's in charge of it? Whose ship is it anyway?" "TheAlluvia ,” Hesar answered, tapping into the Intergalactic Registration data bank. “An Amazeen LRC registered to a Captain Thalia Chakai. I'm doing a scan of the vessel and finding ten women and two males, one of which is a werebeast." "A male onboard an Amazeen vessel?” Dax questioned. "He is their prisoner,” Iyan said. "Aye and I'll wager he's a Reaper, too,” Khiershon said, cursing beneath his breath. “Sajin, perhaps?" "So what do we do?” Iyan asked. "We can't leave him on that ship if he's a Reaper, can we?” Hesar inquired. "I don't see any way around it. Let's just hope he isn't being tortured,” Iyan said and saw Khiershon flinch. "I'm not getting any psychic signals that that is happening. If they are taking him to Rysalia Prime, we'll have to be prepared to extract him along with the rest of my bloodkin when the time comes,” Khiershon said then shrugged. “Just keep an eye on them and if anything changes, let me know." "She was definitely bragging to Chakai,” Iyan said. “Do you think the Amazeen could be a friend?" "Raphie doesn't have any women friends,” Khiershon replied. “It's a strange situation all the way around but we're not close enough to get involved." "And shouldn't give ourselves away,” Hesar put in. "I hope to the heavens Raphie hasn't lessened our chances of rescuing your kin,” Iyan said. “If she has, I'll strangle the wench myself!" "She's not crazy enough to tell Chakai what she's planning or that we're on our way to Rysalia Prime,” Khiershon said. "Aye, but Chakai and every Amazeen alive knows you're somewhere out here and she'll put two and two together and realize Raphaella is either going to your aid or backing you up,” Iyan suggested. "Is our firewall still reporting what we want it to?” Khiershon asked. "Every living thing on this vessel is being defined as female,” Cathy Atherton, the systems tech, spoke up. “No way will anyone be able to scan male presences on theDarkWind . So if theAlluvia passes its scanners over us, we'll show up as an all-female crew. The block is engaged on all sound emanating from our vessel so no one can pick up our conversations."

"Raphaella blocked incoming transmissions but didn't have sense enough to block outgoing. For that alone she needs her ass whipped!” Iyan growled. "We shouldn't have anything to worry about for now,” Khiershon said. “I've other pressing matters to see to. Keep me informed." "What other matters?” Iyan questioned, but his friend and commander was already strolling away, waving a dismissive hand over his shoulder. **** Caitlin was getting bored lying in the bunk and had decided to get up and get dressed when she heard Raven mumbling out in the living area. "’ ‘Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door'." "Who is it, Raven?” she asked, throwing the covers aside. "'Come to me, by all means, my dear good friend',” the ‘bot called out. Cait heard Khiershon's voice as his boots hit the floor and she smiled. She listened and realized he was shutting down the ‘bot. That could mean only one thing. She stretched out on the bunk on her side—one arm crooked over her bare chest—and awaited her lover. His eyes were gleaming when he came into the sleeping chamber. He stood in the doorway and heat began building in his eyes as he stared at her. "You turned off the ‘bot,” she said in a low whisper. "Aye,” he said and his hands went to the buttons of his black silk shirt. “I want no interference." "Interference with what, milord?” she said in a husky voice. "Your ravishment, wench,” he replied. “I need to lose myself in you even more after than visit to the bridge." The last button came undone and he spread the silk garment, tugging it free of his bitches, giving her a view of the hairy expanse of his heavily-muscled chest with the livid red tattoo on the left pectoral. As he worked loose the buttons at his wrists, he held her gaze captured in the dark amber glint of his. "What was so important Iyan had to have you visit him this morning?” Caitlin asked, sweeping her tongue over her suddenly dry lips. "Nothing out of the ordinary. Just Raphaella slipping in deep foig,” he said and peeled the shirt from his body. At the mention of her rival, Caitlin's lips pursed. “What did she do now?" His hands were on the black jet studs that held together the fly of his uniform britches. “Nothing she can't handle,” he said then added beneath his breath, “I hope." "What did she do?” Caitlin repeated with exasperation.

"She took the StarRaider and came after us,” he said, spreading his fly open and pushing the tight britches down his lean hips. "Even after you told her to stay where you left her?” Caitlin asked. "She thinks she's protecting me." "She thinks you still belong to her,” Caitlin grumbled. "Apparently so,” he said, remembering the words he'd heard her saying to the Amazeen captain. "We need to disabuse her of that notion, Reaper,” Caitlin snapped. “Youneed to disabuse her of the notion or she'll continue to be a problem." Khiershon sighed as he stepped out of his pants. “I'll have a talk with her." "And I'll be there to add my two cents worth,” she announced. “Is she following us?" "She's sitting in the middle of the galaxy with an Amazeen LRC in front of her, calmly conversing as though nothing of import was happening in our world,” he grumbled. Caitlin's eyebrows shot up. “She's talking with other Amazeens? I thought she was persona non grata to them." "As best we can tell, there is no animosity between her ship and theirs. Raphie powered down her weapons and is just chatting away like nothing unusual is happening. And there's a Reaper aboard that Amazeen vessel,” he said then flung out a hand. "Oh, Khiershon, no!” Caitlin said. “What are you going to...?" "I can't deal with that right now,” her lover snarled. “I can't sit here and think a bloodkin of mine is being tortured. There's nothing I can do about it, but I will rescue him as soon as we get to Rysalia Prime. That I swear!" Tossing his britches beside his shirt, he padded over to the bunk and stood staring down at his wife, a muscle working in his tight jaw. "I need you, wench,” he said. “By the gods, I need you desperately right now. I need to lose myself in you." Caitlin knew he wanted to be distracted, to get his mind off whatever might be happening to one of his own that he could neither prevent nor stop. It was Khier's way. She smiled and opened her arms. “I am here, milord." He turned his head to one side as he gazed at her. "'For in his heart, as in thy stream, Her image deeply lies

His heart which trembles at the beam Of her soul-searching eyes',” he quoted. "From which of his poems did that come?” she asked, her heart thudding at the love blazing from his gaze. "To the River,” he replied. "Poe wrote some good stuff,” she said. "Aye, that he did,” Khiershon said and dipped his knee to the over-sized bunk. Facing her, he propped his head on his closed fist and let his gaze wander over her shapely form. "What would Iyan say if he knew you'd come back to bed?” she asked softly, reaching out to smooth a lock of thick brown hair from over his forehead. "He'd be pissed,” Khiershon admitted. "And that you planned to ravage your lady?" "He'd be doubly pissed,” the Reaper said with a laugh. She leaned over him, pushing him to his back, her hand trailing slowly and gently over his broad chest. “What if your lady was the one doing the ravaging, milord?" "He'd be shocked to know I'd allow such a thing at a time like this and be amazed that I could enjoy being ravished while I'm worried sick." "Umm,” she said and slid her lips beguilingly over his, claiming his mouth as was her right. She slipped her tongue between his firm lips, tasted him, and then grinned. “Let's shock the hell out of Iyan McGregor, then." The Reaper's arms enclosed her, holding her to him as she thrust that sweet piece of flesh into his mouth once more. His body quivered as she withdrew her tongue and flicked its tip to first one corner then the other of his mouth. "What would he say...” she began as she planted kisses on his cheek, his chin, and then down his neck, “...if your lady were to keep you abed all day and use you for her base intentions?" "There's no telling what he'd say,” Khiershon said, his words coming huskily as her lips closed on the Suprasternal notch at the base of his throat. She suckled the pulse that throbbed there and her actions set his staff to echoing the rhythm. She trailed her fingers down his bare arm from shoulder to elbow and back and again, feeling the goose bumps popping up on his flesh. She was lying atop him, one leg crooked over his left thigh, her lower body resting between his legs. Khiershon closed his eyes as she slid further down him, her lips blazing lightning soft kisses on his pectorals and down his sternum. She had reached up to take one manly pap between her thumb and middle finger and was gently rolling the hard little nub.

"You are a witch, Caitlin Cree,” he whispered. "I am a woman in need of pleasuring her man,” she said, closing her mouth around his nipple. He let his arms fall away from her as she suckled him. Trills of pleasure were undulating through his body. He closed his eyes and gave in to the erotic sensations flowing through him. When her fingernail grazed his navel, he drew in a harsh breath. "Like that?” she whispered. "I am at your mercy, wench. Do whatever you want with me,” he said. His eyes clouded. “Make me forget for awhile." Caitlin spiraled her tongue down his side and into the deep concavity of his belly. He was lying there like a sacrifice, a victim to her ministrations, his hands to either side of his head. She slid her hands to his hips, gripping him and scooted lower on the bunk. Khiershon drew in a ragged breath and his hands moved down to her hair, clamping her head as she plied his willing flesh. He was trembling beneath the sweet ecstasy of lips, a fiery pool of desire flooding his loins. His hands roamed over her head, stroked her hair, pushed it back from her forehead. His breathing grew ragged, his heart pumping faster with each gentle tug of her lips. He stood it for as long as he could then grabbed her upper arms and pulled her up his body, turned them both over so that he was lying atop her, his knees pushing her thighs apart. "What would McGregor say?” she whispered. "The hell with McGregor and his prudish thoughts,” her Reaper proclaimed. He slanted his mouth across hers and claimed her in a heady kiss that took her breath away. His hand went to the juncture of his legs and he slid unerringly into her warm sheath, lifting her rump so he could thrust deeper with lengthening strokes that had her fingernails digging into his back. Caitlin lifted her legs and locked them around her husband's hips, anchoring him to her as he plunged into her heated wetness. She could feel the building pressure flooding into her lower body and arched her hips to meet his thrusts. He filled her, touched the very core of her, and when she climaxed, the peel of her release was lost in the sweet cavity of his mouth, his tongue dueling with hers. Khiershon pulled his mouth free and let his head fall back, a cry of fulfillment pushing at his clenched teeth. He was afraid if he released that sated roar, it would echo through the ship and reach every ear. She looked up at him—the broadness of his shoulders, the damp hair swirling over his chest, the strong column of his throat where a wild pulse throbbed out of control. As he lowered his head and their eyes met, she saw a crimson glint sparking through those amber eyes and knew she had been marked far beyond a lustful mating between lovers. He had given her his seed.

Chapter Six "Any new developments?” Khiershon asked when he made his way back to the bridge later that morning.

Iyan shot him a look then put his hands on his hips and shook his head. There was no need to ask the Reaper where he'd been and what business he'd been conducting. Cree had that afterglow on his handsome face that Iyan had grown to know all too well of late. “Did you take care of your important matters, milord Reaper?” he inquired around a tightly clenched jaw. "Everything came out just fine, McGregor,” Khiershon reported. “Thanks for asking.” He turned to his Com Officer. “What's happening now, Hesar?" "The two ships are sitting right where they were but now the StarRaider is blocking its transmissions. I think the princess realized we're out here monitoring her movements,” Hesar told him, trying to keep a straight face. "It's as though whatever Raphie said to Captain Chakai concerned her and all outgoing conversation between them has been taken up to a more secure channel,” Iyan stated, “so we wouldn't be able to hear it." "They are talking about me,” Khiershon said with disgust. He actually felt his ears burning. "That would be my guess,” Iyan agreed. He glanced at his friend and noticed that the Reaper was plucking at the arm of his command chair, staring at it, preoccupied. "As best we can tell there isn't going to be any trouble from theAlluvia . Her crew never even put their weapons on standby,” Pat Rasey, the weapons’ specialist commented. “Neither ship is geared for confrontation." "I'd like to know what they are discussing for such a gods-be-damned long time,” Iyan grumbled. “They've been sitting there for over two hours, chit-chatting." "Not all women chit-chat, McGregor,” Barb Fuller, a Terran black woman quipped. “They could be exchanging recipes for all you know." Iyan snorted. “I'm more inclined to believe it would be instructions on how best to emasculate the man they're holding captive on theAlluvia .” He glanced at Barb Fuller, the black Terran who understood as no one else did his feelings about such things for in her native country she had been subjected to female genital mutilation. Barb smiled gently at McGregor. "I'm not picking up on him being in pain,” Khiershon said. He felt great sorrow over Iyan having been castrated when they were both captives on Amazeen. "Stop remembering,” Iyan snapped, knowing exactly what his friend was thinking. "Could the Reaper on theAlluvia be under Chakai's protection?” Wynth inquired. "Possible but not gods-be-damned likely,” Khiershon replied. “How many Amazeens do you know who are on the side of a Reaper?" "We know at least one,” Iyan said.

"Well, whatever they were discussing, it seems to be at an end,” Dax said. “They're engaging engines." There was a long moment of silence, and then Iyan asked, “Are they moving away from one another?" "No,” Dax replied. “The StarRaider is dropping in behind theAlluvia ." "What the hell is she doing?” Khiershon demanded, shooting to his feet. “Try hailing her ass again, Bryan!" "Unknown Serenian StarRaider, this is theDarkWind ,” Helen Bryan radioed. “Please respond." "Does the StarRaider even have a name?” Iyan asked. "Not to my knowledge,” Wynth replied. “It hadn't been christened yet when we left." "What you want to bet Raphaella named it when she took command,” Khiershon asked. “And where the hell did she learn to captain a vessel to begin with?" "My guess is the Serenian and Oceanian women are running the ship with Raphie as the titular captain,” Iyan answered. “You know she wouldn't just be a member of the crew." "With her ego? Not likely,” Khiershon agreed with him. "Serenian StarRaider, this is theDarkWind . Do you copy?” Bryan said. She tried again then twice more but the StarRaider did not acknowledge the hail. "You know,” Caitlin said as she came onto the bridge, “she could just be ignoring you, Reaper. She wouldn't want to take the chance you would order her back to Corinth." "That's true,” Iyan said. “And very likely the case." "Open the channel,” Khiershon ordered. “She may not reply, but she'll be able to hear me chewing her ass out." "Let it go,” Caitlin advised. “She's going to do what she's going to do whether you yell at her or not and we don't want any passing ships aware there are men onboard theDarkWind ." Iyan gave his best friend's wife an admiring look. “She's right, Khier." "So I'm just to ignore the fact she disobeyed a direct order?” the Reaper snapped. "I think it best,” Caitlin said, running her hand across his upper back in a soothing motion. "She disobeyed me,” Khiershon complained. "Aye, but technically she's not a member of your crew so she's not under your command,” Caitlin reminded him. "She disobeyed me,” he repeated. "Let it go, Reaper,” she said, patting his shoulder. She met Iyan's direct gaze and winked.

Iyan turned away. He didn't want Khiershon to see him grin. "If she can hear us, that means theAlluvia can, too,” Bryan said. “Want me to try raising the Amazeen ship?" "TheAlluvia ?” Caitlin asked, frowning. “Wasn't that the ship that challenged us over by Montyne Vex?" "By the gods, she's right! I'd forgotten about it until she mentioned it,” Iyan said. “They'll know we've retrofitted theOrion !" "And wonder why,” Khiershon added. "They think we're lesbians,” Caitlin reminded Iyan. “And they know we are Terrans." "But with a crew from other planets if I remember correctly,” Iyan put in. “They have to be wondering what we're doing on this side of the wormhole now." For a long time no one on the bridge of theDarkWind spoke. Dax was tracking the path of theAlluvia carefully. Hesar and Bryan were monitoring its communications system. "Open the channel to theAlluvia ,” Caitlin said, “and direct the vid-com only on me." "Why?” Iyan asked. "Humor me,” Caitlin said and nodded to Helen. "It's open,” Bryan said. "Greetings, theAlluvia !” Caitlin called out. “Fancy meeting you out here in the wilds of space. How's it hanging, girls?" Khiershon winced and Iyan frowned. The face that materialized on the vid-com was not smiling. “I am Major Akkadia Kahmal of the LRC the Alluvia . To whom am I conversing?" "I guess you and I didn't meet before over by the Vex,” Caitlin said with a grin. “I'm Captain Cait Kelly formerly of the United Space Alliance Medivac Command. Where's that gorgeous Captain Chakai?" A deep scowl passed over the Amazeen's face. “You are the Terrans as I remember." "Aye, we are. Is the good Captain Chakai still with you or was that delicious lady promoted?" "Captain Chakai passed on into the arms of the Gatherer,” the Amazeen Major informed her. “Why do you seek her?" "The Gatherer?" Major Kahmal rolled her eyes. “She died, Terran."

Caitlin shrugged. “That's too bad. I just thought she and I hit it off, you know?” She broke out into a wide grin. “How ‘bout you? Do you want to swing my way, Major?" It took a moment for the Amazeen to understand what had been asked and when the meaning hit her, her lovely face turned hard as rock. “I am not one of your kind!" "What a shame,” Caitlin said. “We're enjoying ourselves over on this side of that anomaly. Glad you showed it to us." The Amazeen was unsuccessful at hiding her dismay. “Glad to have been of assistance,” she bit out. “Does your command know you entered the anomaly?" Caitlin winked. “No way, baby! We're boldly going where no Terran has before and loving every minute of it! Boy, will we have a tale to tell when we get back to base!" "I see,” the Amazeen said, lips pursed. “What is it you plan to do while you are visiting our part of the megaverse, Captain?” Her gaze narrowed. “How is it possible for you to refuel on this side of the anomaly?" "Oh, we've discovered all kinds of wonderful new friends who have been ever so helpful. We were told about a shindig going on in some place called Rysalia Prime. Have you been there? It's a planet with nothing but women! Can you dig it? There's going to be some kind of rip-roaring party over there in a few days. Some of our new friends from Oceania souped up our ship so we could make the journey in style. We gave our vessel a new name, theDarkWind . How cool is that? How ‘bout we meet up with you and your crew and...." "We are not interested!” the Amazeen snarled. "Oh,” Caitlin said. “Come on. You look like my kind of woman. I...." The transmission between the two ships was terminated just that quickly and Caitlin was staring at a blank screen. "Depraved woman,” Iyan chuckled, shaking his head. “Your boldness never fails to amaze me, Caitlin." Khiershon was staring at his lady as though he'd never seen her before. When she turned toward him, batted her eyes, and puckered her lips in an air kiss, he couldn't hold in the laughter that exploded from his lips. He reached out and dragged her into his lap, pinning her there within the safety of his arms. “If I didn't have such a feeling of dread, wench, I'd kiss you,” he told her. "Dread?” she repeated. “From what?" "I don't know,” he answered. “It's been there since I came on the bridge this morn and I can't seem to shake it." "TheAlluvia is streaking across the heavens just as fast as their engines can blast them,” Dax said. “The StarRaider is right behind it like a bat outta the Abyss." "Raphie would have recognized your voice, Cait,” Khiershon said. “Let's hope she doesn't give away your performance.” He shifted once more, the niggling feeling prodding him. During the time Caitlin was conversing with the Amazeen Major, his uneasiness had grown.

"She won't,” Caitlin said. “She values your life too much and she'll know we were simply bearding the lioness in her den lest the Major wonder what we're doing out here with a supercharged vessel full of Terran women." **** Khiershon was still uneasy as afternoon stretched into evening. He had the strangest feeling all was not right on the Amazeen ship, theAlluvia . He knew there was a Reaper onboard the ship, but he had sensed no pain or sorrow coming from the ship while Caitlin was conversing with the Major. Had it been a Reaper cadet he knew on the Amazeen ship being transported to Rysalia Prime as a prisoner, he would have been able to home in on that one's presence. He didn't believe there was a Reaper cadet alive with whom he had not shared blood but obviously there was. Closing his eyes, he tried to send his mind out into the cosmos in search of the presence he felt on the Amazeen ship but theAlluvia was too far away and the emanations far too weak to register. Yet the uneasiness persisted. "Damn,” he spat and opened his eyes, unnerved by what he wasn't able to understand or reason out. He gave up and shoved his hands into the pockets of his leather uniform britches, hunched his shoulders, and headed for the lounge where everyone would be gathering within the hour to go over the plans for rescuing his bloodkin. Iyan glanced up and took note of the heavy frown on his friend's face. He knew Khiershon better than anyone and a look like that generally boded ill for whoever had caused it. The Reaper was moody at best and downright dangerous when he bore such a hard, sharp expression. Khiershon threw his leg over the back of the chair beside Iyan and sat down, his brow furrowed. He picked up a straw lying on the table top and began twisting it between his fingers. "Should I be concerned with whatever it is that is plaguing you?” Iyan asked quietly. "There is something about the male on that Amazeen ship,” Khiershon said. “It worries me." "We scanned the ship the first time we came into contact with theAlluvia and there was no male onboard,” Caitlin said. She had been sitting with Iyan, waiting for her husband. "That in itself isn't strange,” Iyan said. “They could have swung by Amazeen and picked him up on their way back. If he's a Reaper, we know where they're heading with him." "Remember the LRC that was fast approaching the wormhole right behind us when we left the Vex?” Khiershon asked. "Vaguely,” Iyan answered. "They were burning a Reaper,” Khiershon said. “I felt it." "And you wouldn't allow us to blow the ship apart for that reason,” Iyan remembered. "Could that have been theAlluvia ?” Khiershon asked. Iyan and Caitlin exchanged a look. “Possibly,” Iyan replied. “We haven't encountered any other Amazeen ships."

"What's bothering you, milord?” Caitlin asked. "If the male on the Amazeen ship is a Reaper cadet, I don't believe I know him,” Khiershon said. “I thought at first it might be Sajin, the next to the youngest of my bloodsire's offspring, but now I'm convinced it isn't Sajin. We passed a Reaper being tortured. I felt his pain. If he is the one who is now on theAlluvia why didn't I feel his pain when you were speaking to the Major?" "This may be another cadet entirely,” Caitlin said. "Something tells me he's the same one,” Khiershon stated. "Then perhaps he is unconscious,” Iyan suggested. "That's what I'm afraid of,” Khiershon said. “He could be near death already. It's obvious they are headed for Rysalia Prime so they would be taking him to his execution." "Would Raphie have known this Major Kahmal on Amazeen?” Caitlin asked. “Could they have been friends on Amazeen?" "Doubtful,” Khiershon said. “She didn't have friends. The only females with whom she associated were.... “He stopped, his eyes widening. "What?” Iyan asked. "She was to have become the next Domestic Queen,” Khiershon said. “There were only three other women—all daughters of the Defense Queen—that Raphaella deigned to associate with and one of them was named Akkadia." "That's a common enough Amazeen name, Khier,” Iyan reminded him. "Aye but if memory serves, the Defense Queen was named Melanippe Kahmal!" "Kahmal is the name of the Major on theAlluvia ,” Caitlin said. "But surely Kahmal is sworn to bring Raphaella to justice for helping you to escape,” Iyan said. "Not necessarily,” Khiershon disagreed. “I always thought she must have had inside help in aiding me to escape Amazeen. What if that help was Akkadia Kahmal?" "You may be right. Hell, she was even bragging to Kahmal!" "If they were friends...” Caitlin began. "She had no friends, I tell you!” Khiershon said. “I would have known!" "All right,” Caitlin said, taking his word for it. “Then either one of two things is happening here.” She held up her thumb. “The two of them came to some kind of understanding and the Major isn't going to hold Raphie accountable for setting you loose or.... “She held up her index finger. “The Major is leading Raphie to her death on Rysalia Prime." "With an unconscious Reaper cadet in tow,” Khiershon said, his face as stony as granite. “We've lost

dozens of Reapers already to the Multitude's fires. I've no intention of losing even one more!" "Khier, other than you, the only cadet not accounted for is Sajin. If you're correct, it is most likely him on the Amazeen ship,” Iyan stated. "The only cadet we know about,” Khiershon corrected. “What if there are more that wedon't know about? We need to liberate him before they can turn him over to the Multitude and question him to see if there are more cadets out there somewhere." "And alert the Amazeen that you have a ship of men being masked as women on their scanners?” Caitlin asked. “You might as well signal on ahead to Rysalia Prime that we're coming to the Reapers’ rescue." "She's right,” Iyan said. “I don't see any way to snatch the lone male off theAlluvia without giving ourselves away." "Then he'll have to stay where he is and we'll add him to our pickup list,” Caitlin said. “Isn't that what we're doing here tonight? Cementing our plans for snatching your bloodkin from their doom?" Khiershon nodded. He was still troubled, his nerves on edge, but he saw no way to help the male on the Amazeen ship. He'd do everything he could to save the man but if it came down to saving one man or ten, one would have to be sacrificed. He just prayed it didn't come to that. "I know you're worried,” Caitlin said, reaching out to cover her husband's hand where it rested on the table. “Try not to let it get to you." The Reaper nodded. “There's also Raphie,” he said. “If Major Kahmal is leading her to her doom...." "Stop borrowing trouble, Khier,” Iyan told him. “Let's get the plan down first before we veer off on any tangents." "All right,” Khiershon said. He looked around and realized his entire team had gathered in the lounge. Only Dax—who was in control of the ship—was missing. “Take a seat and let's go through this all again. Has anyone thought of any potential problems we need to deal with first?"

Chapter Seven Raphaella had, indeed, recognized Caitlin's voice, but she had not found the Terran woman's antics amusing. What she had learned from the crew of theAlluvia had brought things home forcibly to her that this was not going to be a walk beside the lake they were undertaking. There was exacting danger aligned against them all. For the first time in her life, the Amazeen woman felt fear. Not for herself but for the man she loved. That he was with another woman only deepened Raphaella's fear for his wellbeing. She wouldn't be near him to protect him. "Considering what we learned from Major Kahmal should we not inform them who is on theDarkWind ?” Maeve Lynne McGregor asked Raphaella. "No, I think not. It is best not to worry the Prime Reaper. He has enough on his mind as it is." "He became very quiet when you told him you are Khiershon's mate,” McGregor said. “I'm not sure that was wise on your part to lie to him, Raphie."

Raphaella thought back to the odd look the Prime Reaper had given her. Had he been able to read her mind? Khiershon always could but then Khiershon had taken a drop of her blood. Did the Prime know she had not been completely honest? If Khiershon was adept at reading thoughts, how much more powerful would his bloodsire be? Would he need her blood in order to read her? "I don't think either Reaper was aware of the other,” Raphaella said. “If Khiershon knew there was a Reaper on theAlluvia , he wouldn't have refrained from contacting him. Likewise if the Prime knew one of his bloodsons was near he would have hailed him." "Perhaps not,” McGregor said. “Perhaps they know but both are being cautious, fearful of having some other ship intercept their transmission." "Maybe,” Raphaella said. "We should at least inform Khiershon and his crew what is happening,” McGregor declared. “If both he and Kahmal try to snatch the cadets at the same time, the men could be torn apart in the effort. He needs to know his bloodsire in on theAlluvia and that he is planning on turning himself over to the Daughters." "Aye, now see therein lies the problem!” Raphaella said. “If I tell Khiershon his bloodsire is planning on allowing the Multitude to throw him into prison, Khier will snatch the Prime Reaper off theAlluvia and there will be hell to pay. The Daughters know Kahmal is on her way to Rysalia Prime with their most wanted man. Don't think for a moment they won't throw everything they have at Khiershon to get his bloodsire back! They want the Prime more than any other Reaper. It is too dangerous for Khiershon and your brother, Iyan!" Maeve Lynne McGregor drew in a long, ragged breath. “Aye, I agree it will be dangerous but if both ships attempt to retrieve the cadets..." "We have to make sure Khiershon's attempt to transport the cadets to theDarkWind fails,” Raphaella interrupted. "How do we do that?" "We block his transport signal. I brought the schematics for the new system they installed on the DarkWind with us when we left Corinth. We've engineers on board that can jam Khier's retrieval beams,” Raphaella explained. “Once they realize the cadets have been picked up by theAlluvia and the Alluvia is speeding away, we can tell Khier about his bloodsire." "Then what?" "We transport everyone from theDarkWind to our ship and we get the hell out of Rysalia Prime airspace, blowing up anything that tries to get in our way or comes after us." "What about theDarkWind ?” McGregor asked. “Do we just ditch it?" Raphaella shrugged. “Why not? It's just a Terran ship." "A Terran ship our men retrofitted to be a powerful warcruiser,” McGregor said. “Have you forgotten my people are still being hounded by the Rysalians?"

"I haven't forgotten, Maeve Lynne, but in the grand scheme of things that is of less importance than making sure we save the lives of Khiershon's bloodkin. Your brother would agree on that point." Maeve Lynne McGregor figured her brother Iyan would have something to say about discarding a perfectly good ship and even more to say to her for being a party to Raphaella's plan. Having women in battle wasn't her brother's way and although he was many years older than her, she thought she knew him pretty well. He'd want to take the ship back to Corinth in case it was ever needed. "Stop worrying, Maeve Lynne,” Raphaella said. “I've got things well under control." McGregor watched the Amazeen stride away and not for the first time thought Raphaella had to be the most arrogant woman she'd ever had the displeasure of meeting. Not one female among the Serenians and Oceanian liked the Amazeen and few trusted her. Her single minded pursuit of Khiershon Cree was disquieting—especially now that the Reaper was legally Joined to Caitlin, a woman much admired among the rebels at Corinth. If it had not been for the fact that Khiershon had aboard theDarkWind many of their beloved menfolk, no Serenian or Oceanian woman would have agreed to crew the StarRaider for Raphaella. Few had agreed with the Amazeen when she'd first broached the subject of taking the vessel but Raphaella's barrage of insults and questioning of their courage had overridden good sense. "Khier's going to beat her black and blue when he catches her,” Cadyna Wynth, the Oceanian navigator of the ship Raphaella had christened theAilith , remarked to McGregor. "I hope we all live long enough for him to do just that,” McGregor said, her jaw tight for she could almost feel Iyan's broad palm being applied to her own rear end. **** Kamerone Cree was intently staring at Aegean's monitor, watching the StarRaider that was following the Alluvia. He was uneasy, had been for some time, and thinking back on it, realized that discomfort had began while he was speaking with the one named Raphaella. Instead of fading, the feeling was growing. Whatever was causing his restlessness concerned him. "What's bothering you, Reaper?” Kahmal asked him as she swiveled her command chair around to face him. "The woman was lying,” he said, his eyes narrowed. “Why would she lie about being the mate of a Reaper?" "She knows Khiershon,” Kahmal said. “I can verify that." "And you didn't want me to know she was in contact with my bloodson?” Cree asked around a tight jaw. "I wanted to forestall any potential problem, Reaper, until everything was out in the open. Raphie has deep feelings for Khiershon Cree." "I've no doubt she does,” Cree said. “It is her falsehood about being his woman that disturbs me." "It is a well known fact he took her maidenhead, that they became lovers,” Kahmal said. “And she did help him to escape Amazeen. That, too, is true." Cree frowned. “How is it possible he had sex with her but she is not his mate?” he questioned. “Reapers

mate only once in their life." "How do you know she isn't his mate?" "Because the face of another woman shifted through her mind's eye when she proclaimed herself Khiershon Cree's mate,” he answered. “The image was too quick for me to get a good look at it but the woman's face seemed familiar." Kahmal braced her elbows on her chair arms and steepled her fingers beneath her chin. “What do you know of Khiershon Cree?" "He is one of the many seedlings taken from me and planted in Terran women,” he replied. “Beyond that, I know nothing of him. I've never laid eyes on any of my bloodsons." "Do you know Khiershon is the bloodson who was reported killed in a crash landing on Amazeen when he was a child?" Cree nodded. “I remember it being mentioned in passing but back then such things meant nothing to me." "He would be your eldest, would he not?" "I believe so.” He glanced at her. “What do you know of his time on Amazeen?" "It was not an easy passing,” she answered truthfully. “That much I know and he was much feared. He had been kept so his seed could impregnate a new race of warrior women but we soon discovered that could not happen." "The parasite within us destroys all female zygotes,” Cree said. "So we learned. There were those who voted to eliminate him but before that could happen he used his mental powers to entrap Raphaella and she helped him to escape. Her whereabouts were unknown until this morning. His?” She shrugged. “He was arrested and taken to the Vex for questioning and subsequent execution." Cree shuddered. “It was his presence I felt when I became aware in the containment cell there. A Reaper had been tortured in that cell and not too long before we landed." "Aye, but there was no sign of him on the Vex or the Amazeen who had taken him there,” Kahmal said. “We suspect it was a Terran ship that rescued him and.... “She stopped, her eyes going wide. Kamerone slowly turned to look at her. “He is on the ship that scanned us as we were speaking to the one who claims to be his mate,” he said. "But that ship contained nothing but women,” Kahmal stated. “We scanned it when it began scanning us." "Remember the captain of the Terran ship saying they'd been souped up?” Tyrian inquired. “That's what Zainabu's brother did for them. They are registering as all women but we know there is at least one male on board!"

"He's on that ship,” Cree said. “I know it as surely as I am standing here." "Why did he not challenge us, then?” Kahmal asked. “He had to have discovered your presence onboard." "Because I wager he's one among many men on that ship and he didn't want you to know that,” the Reaper said. “My guess is he's on his way to Rysalia Prime to attempt the same thing we are." "Then we should contact him,” Sern said from her position at the navigational monitor. "To make any ship within monitoring distance aware of him and his crew?” Cree asked, shaking his head. “No, that would not be a wise thing to do." "And we're being monitored,” Deon said, bringing eyes to her. “There's an Amazeen ship shadowing us about five clicks to the starboard." "Do you know whose?” Kahmal asked. "It's theAreto ,” Deon said quietly. Kahmal cursed. “Tecmessa Sorn,” she said. “What the hell is she doing tracking us?" "I take it she's not a bosom buddy of yours,” Cree remarked. "She's a bitch. Her ship's name is translated to meanunspeakable and she hates men more than any Amazeen I've ever known. She has a sister who worked in the Rysalian Behaviors Modification Units,” Kahmal replied. "Delyn Sorn?” Cree asked. "Aye, Delyn. She, too, is a bitch of the first order. Do you know of her?" "I had a session with the woman, aye,” Cree said, a muscle working in his lean jaw. "I'll wager Delyn is on Tecmessa's ship. I've heard it said they are closer than sisters should be if you get my meaning." "Aye, well incest is best when you keep it in the family,” Deon quipped. "Should we acknowledge her trailing us?” Sern asked. "Every Amazeen ship out there knows who we are and who we are bringing to Rysalia Prime,” Kahmal said. “No, I don't care to let that degenerate know I even give her a second thought." "She's been trying to probe us, but I've been running a blanket suppression of all conversation on the Alluvia as a matter of course,” Deon told Kahmal. “No one can pick up what is being said by us." Cree swung his attention to Deon. “CouldThe Areto have picked up our transmission to the Starcruiser?" "TheAreto wasn't showing up on my screen at that time, but it could have."

"Sorn would know all about Raphaella,” Kahmal said. “If theAreto did pick up the transmission, Sorn will know exactly where the StarRaider is heading and have alerted the Fleet on a secure channel." "Then I suggest you hail theAreto and test the waters, ‘Kadia,” Cree said. “Make sure you broadcast on a frequency the StarRaider can pick up. They need to know if they have been found out." "By the goddess I hate to speak with Sorn,” Kahmal admitted. “I always feel like I need to shower afterwards.” She sighed. “But you're right. We should be aware if Sorn knows about the StarRaider." "My head is killing me,” Cree said. “I'm going to sick bay to get an extra dose of Triso." She waited until Cree had left the bridge then nodded at Deon to open a channel. "LRC theAreto , this is the LRC theAlluvia ,” Deon hailed the other ship. "Greetings, Kahmal!” The harsh face of a rail-thin woman showed on the vid-com. “I gather congratulations are in order on your promotion to captain of theAlluvia ." Kahmal's hands were tightly clutching the arms of her command chair. “Captain Chakai has gone on to her reward, aye. Thank you, Captain Sorn." "So you have the Prime onboard,” Sorn said. “You are doubly blessed that you were able to follow through on your mission." "Aye, we have him,” Kahmal agreed. "As soon as I heard you were nearing Rysalia Prime, I wanted to be among your escorts. We want nothing to prevent Kamerone Cree from being executed this time." "There are many ships headed for Rysalia Prime,” Kahmal acknowledged. “Even a Terran vessel. Have you word of it?" Sorn waved a dismissive hand. “We scanned them but there is nothing there of interest to us though I would like to question them on how they found the wormhole." "I believe they followed us through it,” Kahmal admitted with a bored shrug. "You should be more careful, Kahmal,” Sorn insulted her. “Once the Terrans land, it will be necessary to impound their ship so they do not return through the anomaly to reveal what they've learned of our worlds." "I agree,” Kahmal said. “We need no more visitors showing up unannounced." "We are of a like mind in that regard,” Sorn said. “Who knew the simpleminded Terrans were capable of making their way to us?" "Any more vessels nearby I should be concerned with?” Kahmal asked, digging her fingernails into the chair arms. "There is a Serenian StarRaider but it is manned with brainless women who know nothing of how to

operate such a fine machine. In trying to converse with us, their com array kept jamming the signal, losing it, the transmission garbled. Such stupidity should not be allowed to thrive in this galaxy." "I take it they pose no problem for us?" "Certainly not,” Sorn said and then laughed. “There again, once they have docked, we will confiscate the StarRaider. I will ask that it be handed over to me. That is if they do not crash the vessel in their attempt to dock!" "Then I'll be sure to stay well out of their way as well as that of the Terrans." "We will be guarding your back, Kahmal,” Sorn pronounced. “You can rest assured you will not meet with any opposition as you take the Prime Reaper to meet his fate!" "It is good to know we have such a conscientious shadow following in our wake,” Kahmal said, her eyes hard. Sorn lifted her head. “You have nothing to fear, Kahmal. I will keep you safe." Kahmal shook herself as the transmission ended. She felt as though something slimy had crawled down her back. She was still sitting there when the Reaper returned. Cree sat down in the First Officers seat beside Kahmal. “I did not sense any duplicity in her,” he said, rubbing at his temple. “Did you, ‘Lia?" Sern looked around. “No, all I got was her hatred of the Major." "And a dark desire to be rid of her,” Cree warned. "Nothing new there,” Kahmal quipped. “I've always known Sorn wished me dead." "You were right about her sister,” Cree said. “Delyn Sorn is on the ship.” His fist opened and closed on his thigh. “She is looking forward to questioning the cadets when she arrives back on Rysalia Prime." "To torturing them, you mean,” Dorrie spoke up. “I remember Sorn and what she did to you, Kam." Cree's eyes turned as cold as the snows on the crest of the Serenian Alps. “I haven't forgotten." "There isn't a single female on theAreto who doesn't pose a threat to you and your bloodkin, Reaper,” Sern told him. “You can be sure they will follow us when we extract the cadets." "And they will die in the pursuit,” Kahmal stated. “It will give me great pleasure to blow them out of the sky and rid the world of their stench." Cree looked at the Amazeen Major with a one brow crooked at her bloodthirsty attitude. “It wouldn't hurt my feelings if Delyn Sorn had every bone in her body broken before she meets her end,” he said. "What possible reason could she have to question the cadets?” Dorrie asked. “Surely she knows she'll get nothing from them." "It has nothing to do with what she can learn. She just likes hurting men,” Kahmal said. “What other

reason does she need?" "Do you think Raphaella heard the transmission between us?” Chanz asked. "The channel was open,” Deon said. “She heard and so did theDarkWind . I noticed their scan of us a second time." "Looking for the Prime,” Kahmal said with a grin. "But they didn't find him,” Deon said. Cree's lips twisted with mirth. “Oh, he found me. I made sure of it. He just doesn't know what to do now that he has."

Chapter Eight Khiershon was stunned. “The Prime Reaper?” he repeated. “It is my bloodsire they have on theAlluvia ! He let me sense him." "How can that be?” Iyan questioned. “He fled to Terra. He was safe there!" "Obviously the Amazeens went after him and have brought him back for execution,” Khiershon said, his eyes troubled. "Or they're taking him to Rysalia Prime to rescue his bloodkin,” Caitlin suggested. "It was him being tortured,” Khiershon whispered, running a hand over his face. “It had to be. No wonder I felt it so keenly. I have his blood flowing in my veins. I have one of his fledglings inside me." Caitlin could not stop the shiver that rippled through her when her husband mentioned the parasite his body hosted. "Those women were torturing my bloodsire,” Khiershon continued. “By the gods they'll pay for that!" "If that's the case, why would they be helping him now?” Iyan asked. "If theyare helping him,” Dax put in. "Chakai was their captain when we first made contact with that ship. She's dead. If this Major was in league with Raphaella in helping you to escape, perhaps she's doing the same with your bloodsire,” Caitlin said. “With Chakai out of the way, Kahmal would be free to lend her aid." "And convinced her crew to go along?” Khiershon asked. He shook his head. “That's too much to hope for." "How many women on theOrion did you visit in their dreams, Reaper?” Caitlin countered. “My crew was half in love with you before you ever said a word to them. Wouldn't your bloodsire have done the same?" Iyan stared at a blushing Khiershon. “She has a point, Khier."

"Man, was that a dream!” Helen Lutz said with a sigh. “We'd have done anything for him." "That's more than likely what took place on theAlluvia ,” Caitlin said. "This is getting far more complicated than we anticipated,” Iyan said. “We've got two Amazeen ships headed for Rysalia Prime, Raphaella chugging along behind them as though she were out for a late afternoon stroll. What if it is theAlluvia's intent to try to snatch the cadets? If we're trying the same thing at the same moment, those men will be ripped apart by the retrieval beams, torn in two different directions." "And we can't just ask what theAlluvia's intentions are,” Caitlin put in. "I need to speak with my bloodsire,” Khiershon said. "How?” Iyan demanded. “We can't risk it with that other Amazeen ship shadowing theAlluvia ." "Get this ship closer to theAlluvia ,” Khiershon ordered. “I will at least be able to communicate telepathically with him. He will be expecting it." "I see one problem with that, milord,” Caitlin said and when he looked at her, she told him he ran the risk of any psychically enhanced humanoid overhearing the conversation. "What are the odds of such an individual being close by?” he asked. "I can't answer that, Khier,” Caitlin said, “but do you really want to take the chance?" "Can you scan the ship first?” Dax inquired. "Aye, I can,” Khiershon said. "If you don't find a sensitive on board, can you at least communicate on a level no other psychic can intercept in case one is hiding beneath your scan?” Iyan asked. "In a language only you and your bloodsire can understand, perhaps?” Dax added. "Chalean High Speech,” Khiershon said. “I doubt there are any Amazeens who speak the dialect. Other than Reapers, it isn't used much anymore." "It's worth a try,” Caitlin said. "Get us close to theAlluvia ,” Khiershon commanded. “I must seek my bloodsire's counsel." **** "That pesky Terran ship is fast approaching,” Sern told Kahmal. "What do they want now?” the Amazeen Major snapped. Sern chuckled, “It just sped across the Areto's bow." "You should hear what Sorn yelled at it,” Deon said. “That certainly wasn't ladylike."

"Sorn isn't a lady. She's a shemale,” Kahmal muttered. "Tyrian, go tell the Reaper to stay in the lounge. Deon, open a channel to those imbeciles,” Kahmal ordered. "Terran ship, theDarkWind . This is the LRC theAlluvia ,” Deon announced. “Our captain would like a word with you." An annoyed face popped up on theAlluvia's vid-screen. "I hope it isn't in the same tone of voice your companion ship tossed at us,” Caitlin said, a pout pursing her lips. “Personally, I don't like being called a slut by anyone." "You ran across theAreto's bow,” Kahmal said. “That was a foolish thing to do." Caitlin shrugged. “Such is life, but I am not a slut." "Why did you do such a thing?” the Major asked, knowing full well Sorn was intercepting the communication. "It was the quickest way to get behind you,” Caitlin responded. "Why?" "We wanted to trail along with you, sweetie,” Caitlin said, smiling broadly. “You are ever so much friendlier than that other ship." Khiershon was standing in the captain's quarters of theDarkWind , his eyes closed, concentrating on contacting the man who had fathered him."I am Khiershon, bloodson of the Prime," he said."I send greetings to my bloodsire." Cirolia Sern sat back in her chair, her heart thudding in her chest. She could feel the emanations coming from the Terran vessel and now knew there was a Reaper onboard theDarkWind . She tuned out the inane conversation between Kahmal and the Terran captain and listened to the Reapers talking to one another although she did not understand the language they were speaking. "I am here, Khiershon." "You are safe, milord?"Khiershon asked. "I am." "Are you being held against your will?" "I am here against my will, but I am not a prisoner on this ship,"Kamerone Cree replied."These women are aiding me." "I am relieved to hear it. It is an honor to speak with you sir,"Khiershon stated. "I am grateful we were given the chance. You journey in the same direction we are taking?"Cree

inquired. "Aye and for the same reason I believe." "It is good we made contact then." "What would you have me do, milord?"Khiershon queried."How may I serve your needs?" "All I ask is that you do not interfere with what I have planned." "You have my word. I will be watching your back,"Khiershon vowed as images of what his bloodsire intended to do flowed across his mind. "You won't be alone,"Cree said. Khiershon sighed deeply."Aye, milord. I know. Raphaella thinks she is protecting me." "Hers is not the only vessel that will be guarding us. A Necromanian prince is captaining a cloaked ship and will be at our backs. I have swept your ship as well as hers and the other Amazeen ship." "I swept yours and sense only one other psychic among your crews." "A friend and ally,"Kamerone Cree acknowledged."She poses no threat to us and I doubt she understands Chalean High Speech." "That is good to know,” Khiershon said. "It is safe for you to send a subliminal to the one who calls herself your mate. Keep her away from Rysalia Prime and out of mischief. She knows I am aware of her and she knows what I have planned." Khiershon winced."And still she persists on getting involved?" "She is your problem, Khiershon. Deal with her." Sern felt the end to the conversation between the two Reapers. She could imagine Cree sitting in the lounge, a hard gleam in his amber eyes for she could sense his disquiet. Running a hand over her face, she realized she was sweating. Whatever had disturbed the Prime Reaper was giving her pause. **** Raphaella felt the mental push of Khiershon's voice and slammed her hands over her ears. She did not want to hear what the Reaper had to say to her. Trilling her tongue to try to block out his words, she was driven to her knees when his psychic shout reverberated through her mind. "Enough!” she cried out. "Stay away from the Titaness, Raphaella,"Khiershon snapped at her."You know his plan and he is not to be thwarted." "I wasn't going to interfere with him. I was going to block your retrieval beam so the two of you

weren't aiming at the same man at the same time and tear him apart during the retrieval,"she complained and took one hand from her head and was shocked to see a trace of blood in her palm. It was hard communicating in this way with the Reaper. "You would have kept all knowledge of my bloodsire's closeness from me and mine from him!" Khiershon accused."Where is your head, woman?" "I didn't want either of you to worry,"Raphaella complained. "I will be guarding my bloodsire. You keep out of this!" Raphaella sensed him pulling free of her mind and stomped her foot in anger. How dare he give her orders when it was his life she was attempting to keep from harm's way? **** Dorrie put a hand on Cree's shoulder. “Well, what's he like?" Cree shook his head. “I won't know until I stand face to face with him." "It should be a relief to you that one of your bloodkin is safe from Multitude hands and in charge of his own destiny." "He would have attempted to extract the cadets,” Cree said. “The Daughters would have gone after him with everything they have and he might not have survived." "Just goes to show what kind of man he is,” Dorrie said. "Aye,” Cree agreed on a long sigh. “He is a brave man." "Like father, like son,” Dorrie repeated what Raphaella had said. Cree looked down at his hands and was stunned to find them shaking. It wasn't fear. He rarely felt that debilitating emotion and even when he did experience it, it wasn't for himself. "Is that the first time you've ever spoken to one of your bloodsons?” Dorrie asked softly. "Aye,” he said. “My heart was thundering in my chest, Dorrie." "More than likely his was, too,” she told him. He cocked his head to one side. “But I felt no anger,” he said. “There was no desire to do harm to him.” He looked at Dorrie. “I had no urge to fight with him. He showed only respect toward me. There was no hint of anger in him, only what I perceived to be admiration." "So the alpha wolf in you didn't feel like marking his territory and subduing the young pup?” she questioned. "No,” he said and his face was filled with surprise. “I felt no such need." "Did you have thoughts like that about Jaelin?” she queried. “A need to assert yourself over him?"

The Prime Reaper thought about that and slowly shook his head. “No, I did not, but I wasn't willing to take a risk with his little life." "When we get home to Terra,” she said, “you can introduce your eldest to your youngest. Won't that be something?" A smile hovered on the Reaper's chiseled lips. “Aye,” he said so quietly it was but a breath of sound. “The gods willing I hope to do just that." Part Two

Chapter Nine Tylan Kahn was nervous as theVortex readied for its landing on Montyne Vex. He didn't know what was causing his uneasiness but it sat between his shoulders like a heavy, cold, soggy blanket. He shifted his body against the apprehension and turned to Tealson Hesar. “Are you scanning this planet?" Hesar nodded. “I'm getting a faint life sign from inside one of the caves. Whoever it is is dying." "'We can not hold mortality's strong hand',” the cybot who was rolling past spoke. "Shut the fuck up, ‘bot!” Kahn snapped. "'You do ill to teach the child such words',” Troi said with a sniff. "I'll teach you something with the toe of my boot if you don't shut up!” Kahn shouted. "'I'll note you in my book of memory'.” Troi mumbled. "Aye, you do that,” Kahn grumbled. “You worthless piece of shit." The men who had accompanied Kahn from Terra all looked toward the former Admiral of the Rysalian Fleet, but Kahn ignored them. Most were fond of the cybot the Prime Reaper had programmed long ago with the words from a famous Terran playwright. Only Kahn seemed irritated by the artificial intelligence unit's prattling. "What kind of life sign are you reading?” Kahn asked. "Female." "An Amazeen?” Lares Taborn questioned. "I can't tell that,” Hesar replied. "Any ships on the Vex?” Kahn asked. "'Ships are but boards, sailors but men: there be ... ‘" "Not another word, Troi,” Kahn warned. “Not one!" "'Company, villainous company, hath been the spoil of me',” Troi said on a long sigh.

"Someone shut that gods-be-damned thing down!” Kahn shouted. “Now!" "'I must have liberty withal, as large a charter as the wind, to blow on whom I please',” Troi said as he rolled quickly away. "No ships, Sir,” Hesar answered as his fingers flew over the keys to put the cybot into hibernation mode. "'O, how full of briers is this working-day world!'” Troi put in before powering down. "Should we check on the woman?” Hern Belvoir asked, trying not to laugh. "Aye, we'll check,” Kahn said, concerned with the sour feeling in his gut. He looked at his navigator. “Land us near the fueling compound first." "Whereis the fueling compound on the Vex?” Raine McGregor asked. "If it is still here,” Paegan Thorne replied, “it will be just beyond the largest plateau. It was well-hidden and can only be accessed by a Rysalian password." "Which is?” Lares demanded. Paegan turned to Kahn. “Sir, do you remember what it is?" Kahn jerked his head around, his eyes flaring. “How the hell would I know? I had never ventured past Diabolusia before we fled to Terra!" "Trystáisiún breosla ,” Alexi Noll spoke up, spelling the words. Noll had been the ranking Keeper on Kamerone Cree's ship and had made the trek to Terra many times. “Unless they've changed it since we left that was what it was when we'd refuel here on the way to Terra. Each Reaper had his own personal code for the station. That was Cree's." "And how do I access whatever I need to access that password, Noll?” McGregor growled. Noll grinned. “Allow me, Your Highness,” the ex-Keeper said and his fingers flew over the console. “There it is!" On the vid-screen, the men saw a large hatchway opening up ahead of them. As the hatch moved, black sand cascaded from the titanium surface of the two flanged portals and a tall kiosk rose up from the opening. "Let's hope there are still crystals in the kiosk,” Noll commented. Kahn got up from the command chair and began pacing. The apprehension that was burning a hole in his esophagus made him dig his fingernails into his palm. “Lock on to that female life sign. I'll investigate myself." Hesar turned to look at him. This was a Keeper's job—not the commander of the ship. “You don't want Noll or me to go?" "What did I say?” Kahn exploded.

"Aye, aye, Sir!” Hesar said and locked on the feeble signal. “It is in the plateau, Admiral. I can transport it here if you like." "Well, I've no desire to trek into the plateau myself!” Kahn sneered. Taborn and McGregor exchanged a look. The two men were aristocrats, royalty on their own worlds of Necroman and Serenia. They had as much authority as did Kahn on theVortex but it was Kahn who was leading the mission to rescue the Prime Reaper. For the last few hours, Kahn had been barking at everyone—including Taborn and McGregor—and neither man liked it. "Locking on,” Hesar said. A soft blue light pulsed on the transporter pad. When the light faded, a body laid sprawled face-down on the plexiform shield. "Barely alive,” Hesar reported. Kahn made no move toward the body. His heart was thudding so hard in his chest he was having trouble breathing. He could hear it pounding in his ears. Hern Belvoir and Andre Arbra hunkered down beside the body and gently turned the robe-clad body over. "Sweet Merciful Alel,” Belvoir whispered for he recognized the woman lying there. He looked up at Kahn. “It's Dr. Sejm." Kahn nodded. Somehow he'd known it was his surrogate mother and as much as he had always distrusted the Chalean woman, he felt a terrible sadness welling up inside him. She was the only mother he'd ever known and—in her way—she had shown him as much affection as she was capable of showing. She had made sure he had survived the virus that had killed almost the entire male population of Rysalia so in a strange way, she had given him life. Sejm's eyelids fluttered open. She was struggling to drag air into her lungs. When she saw the men standing over her, she whimpered. Kahn motioned Arbra and Belvoir away and he knelt down beside the dying woman. Very gently, he slid his arm under her back and lifted her, hoping to relieve some of the gasping that wracked her body. "Tylan,” she whispered and tried to lift a hand to touch his face, but her strength was rapidly fading. "What ails her, Hesar?” Kahn asked and felt tears gathering in his eyes. "Her body is cannibalizing itself,” Hesar said quietly. “Apparently she has had no food for nearly a week." "Where are the others?” Kahn asked. “Why are you here alone?" A smile tried to tug at Sejm's lips. “Your hero left me here to die,” she said, her voice cracking, barely audible.

"Cree took your ship?" "My ship, my women,” Sejm whispered. “My life." "Where is he?" "On his way to hell, I hope,” Sejm said with her last breath. The air pushed out of her lungs and she lay with her eyes open, staring into whatever fate the goddess had in store for her. Kahn crouched with the body of his surrogate mother in his arms. He felt his heart squeezing in his chest and marveled that he could feel such sadness over a woman who had never really shown him that much affection. She had been an evil woman, full of hatred and spite and revenge. She had caused the death of hundreds of thousands of men. There had been no redeeming qualities about her. "Admiral?” Belvoir questioned. “Do you want to bury her here?" Kahn shook his head. “Not in this barren place,” he said and slid his other arm beneath Sejm's legs. He struggled to his feet, holding her. “We will take her home." Lares Taborn's dark face creased. “Home where, Kahn?" "To Chale,” Kahn replied. “It is on our way." "But why would Cree go on to Rysalia Prime now?” Taborn questioned. “If he has control of the ship, why did he not return to Terra?" "He had his reasons and I imagine they have something to do with his bloodkin,” Kahn said. “I told Bridget we would bring him home and by the gods I will!” He turned with Sejm. “One way or another, I will bring him home!"

Chapter Ten Behind the black marble coping, six graves lay beneath shining black marble slabs. A fresh grave had been carved into the lush green grass that matted the burial plot on the hill ofSeacht Claíomhs . Six names had been chiseled into the black marble stones: Analeis, Ciara, Edana, Leila, Nuala, and Raicheal. One more name would need to be added when the seventh stone slab had been laid over Hael Sejm's grave. "Why did she take the name Sejm?” McGregor asked Kahn. Kahn shrugged. “I never knew. Perhaps it was her mother's maiden name." "That could not be,” Lares Taborn put in. “King Rian Brell was married to Celeste Wynth of the royal house of Oceania. She was the mother of the Seven Sisters of the Sword." "Then I can't begin to guess why she chose the name Sejm. She never Joined with any man I knew of,” Kahn said. He ran a hand over his sweaty face for him—and him, alone—had dug his surrogate mother's grave, refusing the help of the men standing with him. "We'd best be going before someone comes to investigate,” McGregor said. He felt eyes staring at him

and rubbed a hand across the back of his neck. "They know we're here,” Kahn said softly. “They'll wait until we leave before they come to say theSlán , the final farewell, for the last Daughter of Brell brought home." Taborn swept his hooded dark gaze over the forests surrounding them. He, too, felt eyes watching his every move and it unnerved him. Although Chale was not allied with Rysalia, they were men, and men were not welcome in this most hallowed spot on Chalean soil. "Hesar,” Kahn said, touching the vid-com at his wrist, “transport McGregor and Taborn to the ship." "You must come with us!” Lares insisted. "I will be along shortly,” Kahn said. “Give me a moment alone with her." Though Lares would have protested, McGregor laid a hand on Taborn's shoulder and shook his head, warning the dark man not to interfere. Alone on the emerald hill, Kahn hunkered down and reached out to grab a handful of the rich black soil that was mounded over his surrogate mother's grave. He let the dirt drift through his fingers as he said his ownSlán to Hael Sejm. "You are home, Mother,” he said. “May you find comfort in the arms of your sisters." "May the Wind be always at your back, son of Hael,” a voice drifted with the blessing from the copse behind the cemetery. He hung his head for a moment then got to his feet. “I'm ready, Hesar,” he told the waiting Keeper. As he felt the shift of the retrieval beam passing over him, he wondered what Hael would say to Analeis—Kamerone's mother—when they met in the Shadowlands. As theVortex sped away from the green hills of Chale, Kahn sat in the command chair, his thoughts of Bridget, and the man he had come to think of as a brother. “What the hell are you doing, Cree?” he whispered. “What have you gotten yourself into now?" Part Three

Chapter Eleven The shackles were too tight around the wrists of Kamerone Cree. Binding his arms behind him, the titanium bands were cutting off his circulation and he flexed his fingers, grimacing. "Too tight?” Major Akkadia Kahmal inquired. "Aye, but if you loosen them, someone will think you've been coddling me,” the Prime Reaper replied. "I have been coddling you, Reaper,” Kahmal quipped with a twitch of her lips. “We all have." Cree sighed. “I believe my pampering will be at an end in a few moments." Three months after leaving Terra, the LRCAlluvia had reached its destination and those onboard were

nervous as the craft settled on the visiting official's pad, including the man who had been deemed the most wanted in the megaverse. On the long-range cruiser's wide vid-com screen they saw the image of hundreds of women assembled before the Titaness, the powerful symbol of authority for the Daughters of the Multitude, and it obvious those women were there awaiting the appearance of Major Kahmal's prisoner. "The Prophetess-Mother, Herself, is leading the delegation of Elders,” Lt. Augeania Deon reported. “She is in full ceremonial garb." "By the goddess, she even has the Labrys clutched in her meaty paw,” Lt. Cedilla Tyrian observed. "Who is that woman standing beside her as Auxiliary Prophetess?” Lt. Cirolia Sern inquired. "Isn't that the Chrystallusian scientist, Dr.LeJong Kym?” Lt. Melankhoia Chanz questioned. “The one who developed the virus that killed the men of Rysalia Prime?" Kamerone Cree's eyes narrowed and he turned his attention to the vid-com screen and the face of the woman being discussed. He remembered her well from before the rebellion. She had not inoculated him as she had many others—his father included—thus sparing his life. He owed her a debt of gratitude. “Aye, that's Kym,” he replied. "She's certainly come up in the world,” Dorrie snarled. "Unfortunately over the dead bodies of thousands of men,” Cree said quietly. Melankhoia Chanz put a hand to Cree’ shoulder. “I checked with my sister who is a wardress in the Titaness. I am told there are ten Reapers being held for execution on the Feast a month from now.” She caressed his shoulder. “Four are sons of yours." Cree flinched and briefly shut his eyes. “Your goddess has sworn to me I will be able to take my Reapers and leave this world. I have to believe She told the truth." "We'll do everything we can to help,” Chanz told him then stepped back. "So will I, Reaper,” Zainabu swore. She looked at Sanchez and Ramirez. "Aye!” the women said in unison, staying as far away from the Reaper as space would allow. "I think you need to go out there first, Kahmal,” Dorrie Burkhart suggested, her cornflower blue eyes worried. “To prepare them." "Dorrie's right,” Cirolia Sern agreed. “They'll want to present you with the Medal of Valor for bringing Cree back. It would be a good time to tell them about the Attribution." "You are right,” the Major of the Amazeen Elite Strike Force replied. “We need to make gods-be-damned sure they don't fall on him and rip him to pieces before we even get him before the Council of Elders." "Whatever you're going to do will you get on with it?” Cree snapped. “I'm losing feeling in my hands." "Nag, nag, nag,” Dorrie said on a long sigh. “That's all you ever do, Kam."

The Reaper cocked a brow at her for she was standing beside him, her arms in restraints as well. “Obviously your shackles aren't as tight as mine, you little bitch." "I'm not the object of an entire planet's rage, either,” Dorrie said smugly, batting her eyelashes at him. "You know,” Sern said, “they don't seem all that angry to me. Just eager to get a look at the infamous Iceman." Cree growled at Sern, hating that nickname. "Down, boy,” Sern said with a laugh. “No offense meant. "Let's hope a look is all they want,” Kahmal said. She straightened her dress tunic, flipped her long red braid behind her, and nodded to Lt. Renata Aegean to open the airlock. There was a loud roar as the Amazeen Major stepped out of theAlluvia . Applause broke out and from the sweep of the ship's vid-com cameras about the assembled women, it was obvious those in charge were having a hard time maintaining order. Women were pushing against those in front of them—all vying for a good position from which to view what was happening. It took a long time before the noise died down, the women at the back of the crowd finally realizing the Major was holding her hand up for silence. "Daughters!” Kahmal called out. “I greet you in the name of peace!" "Peace!” the crowd yelled. "I greet you in the name of the Fruitful Mother of us all Who has allowed me—Her unworthy Daughter—to fulfill the mission I was given!" Another loud roar went up and the applause and stamping of feet was deafening. "I believe the little darlings are happy to know ‘Kadia has me in tow,” Cree grumbled. Kahmal held her hand up once more and kept it raised until the crowd subsided and those inside the ship could have heard a pin drop. "On our mission, we lost two of our own,” Kahmal said and before she could go on, the crowd booed. "Murderer! Rapist! Befouler!” those assembled cursed. "Why don't they really tell us how they feel about me?” Cree quipped. "Who've you been raping that we don't know about, Cree?” Dorrie inquired. "And who did he befoul?” Sern joked. It was all Kahmal could do to quiet the crowd. “Listen to me Daughters!” she called out. “For I must tell you that Dr. Hael Sejm and Captain Thalia Chakai were lost to us—not at the hands of our prisoner—but from a ghoret's bite on Montyne Vex."

Shocked intakes of breath waved through the crowd and the faces of the women turned pale. Ghorets were the deadliest creatures in the megaverse. Not a woman there did not fear the silver-and-green viper. "Captain Chakai was bitten by the vile creature and Dr. Sejm died trying to ease the captain's suffering, having been splattered with venom as she cared for the captain." "Better the Reaper than Captain Chakai!” someone in the crowd shouted and the women roared their agreement. When the women realized Major Kahmal had more to say, the ruckus died down. "The viper that struck the captain struck for me, as well,” Kahmal told the crowd, “but my life was saved by the Reaper." Not a single gasp was heard throughout the crowd. The women had gone as still as death for every one among them understood the implication of what the Major had just imparted. "That shut them up,” Dorrie commented. "The Act was repeated twice more when both Lieutenants Melankhoia Chanz and Cirolla Sern almost blundered over a steep embankment during a blizzard on the Vex. Had not the Reaper intervened, both Daughters would have fallen three hundred feet to their deaths." A solitary voice somewhere in the middle of the crowd spoke the word aloud—Attribution. Another repeated it. Still another and another and another until Kahmal once more asked for silence. "You may ask yourself why the Reaper did this." Women were nodding. Some wore looks of concern on their faces while others appeared shocked to the core of their beings. "I asked the Reaper why he saved my life and called down upon him untold agony he knew he would suffer from the bite of the ghoret. I asked why he had saved the lives of Chanz and Sern and this was his explanation." ” ‘The beast within me wanted each of you to go to your deaths but the human part of me that had been awakened by Bridget's love would not allow me to stand by and watch you women die.’” Complete silence filled the crowd. Not a single woman moved. Major Akkadia Kahmal lifted her chin. “Attribution is a time-honored custom of the Amazeen that had not been invoked for as long as I have drawn breath. I never expected to see it happen and never would I have dreamed I would one day be the recipient of this unselfish act perpetrated by a male—a Reaper male at that. Nor would I ever have entertained the notion that he would save not one female life but three." The Prophetess-Mother had heard all she cared to hear and stepped forward, the Labrys of her office clutched tightly in her hand. The double headed ritual axe glinted lethally in the bright sunlight. “Are you telling us Attribution has been declared by this male?” she snarled. The Major bowed gracefully to the Prophetess-Mother. “Nay, Your Eminence. He did not know of the custom until I told him of it. It was Lieutenants Sern, Chanz and I who declared the act.” She placed her

fist against her heart. “Our lives now belong to him." "Where are these other women?” Cyle Acet, the Prophetess-Mother demanded. "It's show time, ladies,” Dorrie told Chanz and Sern. Also clothed in their dress uniforms, the two lieutenants exited the ship. They stopped just behind the Major and stood rigidly at attention. Taking a step closer, the Prophetess-Mother swept her infuriated glare over the women. “Do you uphold what your commanding officer has relayed to us? Does she speak the truth?" In unison, Chanz and Sern stated that it was so. Dorrie was watching the diminutive Chrystallusian woman standing on the dais of power behind the Prophetess-Mother. LeJong Kym seemed relieved, her eyes closed, her lips moving silently in what Dorrie realized must be a prayer. “Well you have at least one woman out there who's happy you won't be sent to the blade, Kam,” she said. The Prophetess-Mother drew herself up. “You realize this male has been condemned to death by the Council of Elders, do you not, Major Kahmal?" "We know it to be so, Your Eminence, but that was before his unselfish act which saved our lives. We have given him our word as honorable Daughters that his life will not be forfeit." "He was tried and found guilty of numerous crimes against womanhood,” the leader of the Multitude continued. “His death sentence was unanimous!" "It's nice to know I didn't cause any dissension among the Elders,” Cree scoffed. "And the Reaper fully accepted what was to be his fate, Your Eminence,” Kahmal replied. There were low murmurs among the crowd and Cyle Acet made a mistake for which she would never forgive herself. “He accepted he was to die?” she asked. Kahmal nodded. “His exact words to me were ‘I have no life without my lady. I have no desire to live without her so do whatever you want with me. Without my lady I am a walking corpse. Put me out of my misery.’” There were loud sighs from the assemblage of women. "Damn, she's good,” Cree whispered. “Did I really say that?" "Aye,” Lt. Augenia Deon replied. “You did." "Huh,” Cree grunted. "He must be punished!” the Prophetess-Mother shouted for she had heard sighs coming from the crowd and had turned to see the eyes of women close to her sparkling with unshed tears. "What worse punishment can we hand him than an eternal separation from his beloved Bridget?” LeJong

Kym inquired. She took a step forward. “Am I correct in assuming Dr. Sejm tortured the Reaper while he was in her hands?" "Brutally and at length,” the Major stated. LeJong Kym shook her head. “She was not given permission to do that." Every eye in the plaza swung to the Prophetess-Mother. Under the laws of the Multitude, she was required to uphold the debt of honor undertaken by the three women from theAlluvia. To do anything else would bring shame upon the Daughters of the Multitude. "She doesn't look too happy about what she's going to have to do, does she?” Dorrie quipped. "That's because she wanted my ass in the worst way,” Cree said with a snort. "So do I,” Dorrie reminded him. "Aye, but not for the same reason,” the Reaper acknowledged with a grin. Cyle Acet was livid. She was shaking from the anger that had gripped her for she had been placed in a position from which there was no respectable retreat, no possible way out. There could be but one ending to this and the knowledge galled her. "Once more, it seems, the Reaper has escaped his rightful fate,” the Prophetess-Mother declared. “I have no choice but to grant him his life but I draw the line at giving the beast his freedom.” She cocked her chin toward the cage where over a year before Cree's cousins had been burned alive. “That will be his home from this day forward! Caged like the animal he is!" "Oh, for joy,” Cree said. He shrugged his brawny shoulders. “Just what I wanted—a concrete slab and bars out in the open where every woman on Rysalia Prime can come by and spit at me." "You knew they were going to put you there,” Lt. Cedilla Tyrian said. “The goddess willing it won't be for long." "If any woman other than Her Eminence dares to spit on you, it would surprise the hell out of me,” Aegean said. "There's not a woman out there who doesn't know you risked your life to help them gain their freedom,” Dorrie snapped. “Without you, they might still be beneath the yoke of the Empire. They also know all you wanted was to be able to take Bridget and leave this godforsaken planet." "That may be true, Dorrie, but they still wanted me dead,” he said quietly. “My bloodcousins helped the rebellion, too, but you see what happened to them. The Daughters didn't think twice about murdering those men.” He stared at the cage where Kullen, Tohre, Coure, Belial, Kiel, and Gehdrin had perished. He fancied he could still hear their agonized screams. "She's calling for him to be brought out,” Sern said as she came back into the ship. She took hold of his right arm and Tyrian took his left. “Ready?" He nodded. “As I'm ever going to be."

They walked him out of the ship and into the bright glare of the morning sun. He squinted against the glare, his amber eyes narrowed. If the women of Rysalia Prime expected to see a man who had been driven to his knees, they did not get their wish. The man who was brought out of the ship that day held his head high, his shoulders back, his face as steady and emotionless as a statue's. Dressed in a dark green jumpsuit provided for him by the Major, it was the first time any woman there had seen a Reaper dressed in anything save the infamous black uniform that was their trademark. "By Alluvial, he is a handsome brute,” someone whispered and Cree turned his head in the direction from which the words had come. His gaze zeroed in on the speaker and the woman's eyes widened with alarm. She backed up, striving to place herself beyond his scrutiny. "Kamerone Cree!” the Prophetess-Mother spoke up. “You are our prisoner!" The right side of the Reaper's mouth quirked upward but he made no comment to her unnecessary statement. Though he was in shackles, about to be thrown into a cage that—to him—still smelled of burning flesh, he gave no indication that he was the beaten man Cyle Acet had hoped to see. "You will be remanded to yon cage and there you will spend the remainder of your days,” Acet snarled. Cree's attention slid to the leader of the Multitude and held. The coldness in his eyes was so penetrating the temperature in the plaza seemed to drop a degree or two. His gaze crawled over the woman then he looked away, dismissing her. Digging her fingernails into the palms of her hands, Acet wanted nothing more than to slap the arrogant look from the Reaper's face. She longed to hear him screaming in pain as he was tortured at the hands of the Council but that was not to be. She had to accept the fact that he had escaped the retribution that had been reserved for him. She reminded herself there was the matter of his bloodsons and the vile offspring of his loathsome kin awaiting execution. Waiting until Sern and Tyrian had walked him down the steps of the ship and onto the plaza before she fell in behind, Acet was angered that women stepped aside for him, the crowd as silent as the tomb as they parted, spreading back in a wedge from the platform to the cage. Cree felt the weight of the women's eyes upon him. Though they melted back as he drew close, they were staring openly at him—something he was not accustomed to from the women of Rysalia—and it made him nervous. Where before the rebellion women would hide from him behind locked doors, men would pretend they did not see him, he was the center of attention and he found the sensation uncomfortable. A niggling tingle had developed between his shoulders. The door to the cage was standing open and as he walked toward it, he had an overpowering urge to break free of the women holding his arms and run. He could see the dark stain upon the concrete where men he knew had met their fiery deaths. That he would be forced to stay in that hellish place set his teeth on edge. "We will refuel the ship as quickly and quietly as possible,” Kahmal had told him. “We will ready it for the return trip to Terra. Trust us to do as you have instructed." Even one hour spent the cage would be a torment he knew he'd remember all his days. He had to believe everything would go according to the plans he and the Major had made. If not, he would go mad watching his bloodsons being incinerated before his eyes.

The posts where the evil would take place stood upon a platform and were lined up in a semicircle just beyond the cage to which he was being remanded. Heavy shackles hung down from each of the eleven steel uprights. From what Kahmal had told him of the three other such executions since the rebellion, the prisoners would be brought forth—their ankles shackled to the men in front and behind them—heavily sedated with neuroleptors that would keep them from struggling but which would enhance the pain they would feel when their bodies were set on fire. "It was something developed by Hael Sejm,” Kahmal had explained to him. “It is calledcéasadh. In Chalean it means..." "Agony,” Cree had translated. “By the gods that woman must have been Raphian's spawn instead of my grandsire's." "Her being the seed of the Destroyer of Men's Souls wouldn't surprise me in the least,” Kahmal had responded. “She took great delight in hurting the men sent to her lab." He had turned wounded eyes to her. “What men?" Kahmal had not wanted to answer and when she did, he was sorry he'd asked though it was important he know the entire scope of Sejm's perfidy. "They were very young Reaper cadets upon whom she tested her witch's brews. Many did not survive to make it to the posts." The closer he got to the cage, the harder it was for Cree to maintain his composure. He did not like being confined—no Reaper did—even if the bars of the cage were open on all sides and top to the elements. He could no longer feel his hands and his arms were beginning to ache. "The circulation has stopped in my arms, Kahmal,"he sent telepathically to the Major. From the corner of his eye, he saw her slight nod. They had reached the entrance to the cage and to Cree the stench of burnt flesh permeated the air. The ground surrounding the cage seemed to be coated with the ashes of the men he had known. "Remove his fetters,” Kahmal commanded Sern. "No!” the Prophetess-Mother shouted, pushing her way past Kahmal and Tyrian. Her eyes were blazing as she stood in front of Cree. “He is to be given no comforts!" Kahmal had long suspected Cyle Acet was as crazy—if not more so—than Sejm. She started to protest but Cree spoke before she had the chance. "Do you fear me that much, wench?” he asked in a tone that suggested he was amused. “Think you I would mind-fuck you if my hands were free? I assure you I wouldn't touch your filthy cunt with a ten foot pole." The slap that slammed against the Reaper's cheek was delivered with a great deal of power—so much so he staggered beneath the blow. But the hit did not seem to faze Kamerone Cree for he simply smiled, his amber eyes twinkling, white teeth sparkling. Sern and Tyrian exchanged a look. They feared not even the Act of Attribution would save Cree if he

pushed the Prophetess-Mother too far. "I will take great delight in watching you mourn the loss of your sons, Reaper,” Acet snarled. “I will have the executrix douse the fire consuming them many times before I will allow them to finally die. Their agony is on your head!" A fatalistic shrug was the only sign Cree had heard her threat. He was staring into her eyes, certain of the insanity that was raging within her shriveled breast. Idly, he wondered what man had hurt her so deeply that she had lost all reason. When he slipped into her mind, he recoiled from the putrefaction roiling there. Delving deeper he found the name of the one who had betrayed her—Briton Keal. The name meant nothing to him but he suspected it had meant much to her. He made a mental note to ask Kahmal who the man had been. The speculation in the Reaper's gaze unnerved Acet and she rightfully surmised he had invaded her thoughts. She backed away from him, her chest heaving. “There is to be no comfort for this man. He is a beast. Let him live like a beast!" "So much for that soft pillow and downy mattress I was expecting. Don't I even get a blankie to keep me warm?” Cree inquired and the women who heard him laughed. Acet's face turned livid with rage. She swung her angry glower amongst the women. “Do you dare encourage this sorry excuse for a humanoid?” she challenged them. "Your Eminence,” LeJong Kym said as she appeared beside the Multitude's leader. “Please remember your blood pressure. This is not good for your heart." Cree turned his head to look at the Chrystallusian woman for just a moment before directing his attention to the inside of the cage. He had known there would be no comforts for him inside his prison. The Council of Elders would make it as unpleasant for him as they could. "Get him in that cage!” Acet shouted. “Let him know who his mistress is!" Kahmal had hoped the Reaper would let that pass but he didn't. She cringed when he laughed at the Prophetess-Mother's remark. "They'll all be mine before it is over and done with, bitch,” he said in a voice just low enough that only the Prophetess-Mother heard his words. Shrieking like a banshee, Acet would have physically attacked him but Kahmal stepped between them, grabbing the flailing woman's arms and holding her as easily as if she were a child. "Enough, Your Eminence! Remember your health!" Acet jerked in that powerful grasp but she was not strong enough to break the Amazeen warrioress’ hold. She contented herself with screaming at the top of her lungs. The women gathered in the plaza watched the spectacle of their leader being led away by Dr. Kym and several orderlies the Chrystallusian scientist had motioned over. Struggling in Kahmal's firm hold, the woman was bucking like a wild animal under restraint. Her curses were the only sound in the plazas and when she was led away by the orderlies—one powerful woman to each side—she continued to wail and thrash about.

"That woman is insane,” Cree said quietly. "Aye,” Sern replied. “We've known that for some time now." "Remove his shackles,” Kahmal said when she returned from leaving the Prophetess-Mother in LeJong Kym's very capable hands. “There is no need for him to be bound." There were murmurs of agreement among the women in the plaza and when Cree's wrists were unbound, he surprised them all by calmly walking into the cage without being told. He turned just inside the door and swept his gaze over the assembled women. When he spoke, every ear turned to him. "I have but one mistress and that is my lady-wife, Bridget. For her and for her alone would I give my life. Denying her to me is a torture you can not begin to comprehend. The pain she suffers at my loss is on your heads." They watched as he went to the center of the confine then sat down, his knees raised and locked within the perimeter of his arms. He stared at the Titaness, the fortress where he knew his bloodsons were being held. He appeared not to notice when the cage door was locked behind him. "He is not what we expected,” one of the women remarked to Kahmal. “He looks nothing like the Reapers who died in that cage." "Aye, the young ones are easy on the eye but the Iceman's cousins were an ugly bunch,” another said, shivering. "I had seen him before,” still another woman commented. “I have long thought him a very comely man though frightening to be near." "He loves his lady,” another said. "And she loved him,” someone else injected. Kahmal sensed these women bore Cree no particular hatred and thought to gain their help. “He is suffering greatly for the loss of his lady, Bridget,” she whispered to them. “It would not surprise me if he lay down and willed himself to die for love of her." The women gasped. “He cares that deeply for the Terran?" "A Reaper?” another inquired. "He risked all for her,” Kahmal reminded them. “He had power, authority, all he could want on FSK-14 yet he threw it all away to be with the woman he loved.” She lowered her voice. “And look at the treachery that was his reward. They gave his woman to his enemy." "You forget your sister was on board the ship he destroyed when he took the life of that enemy,” the eldest of the women snapped. Kahmal lifted her head. “He knew had he left my Sisters alive, they would have come after him. He could not risk his lady being hurt or killed. He apologized to me and has asked for my forgiveness for what he was forced to do."

Shocked, the women looked away from Kahmal to stare at the solitary man who sat so still in the cage. “A Reaper said such?" "On my honor as an Amazeen warrioress, I pledge to you he did. You ask if I have forgotten my sister. No, I have not forgotten, but I have forgiven him for what he did." Cree could hear the words being spoken as clearly as though he were standing beside Kahmal and the women. He was hard pressed not to smile for he knew damned well what his Amazeen was doing. That he now thought of her as belonging to him made him sigh. It seemed he was developing a pack of women supporters. Thoughts of a pack sent his mind into the ship. Lightly he touched the old weretiger's mind and asked if he was comfortable. "I am to get meat,"came back to him. “And milk!" ” ‘Lia will take good care of you, my brother,"Cree told the beast. "I'll take care of you, too, Reaper,"Cirolia Sern sent to him. Shocked by the Amazeen's ability to speak mind to mind to him, Cree looked about him, searching for the woman but Sern was nowhere in sight. Frowning, he reminded himself once more to be careful of his thoughts around that one. If she were capable of intercepting his thoughts, there might well be others who could do the same. **** LeJong Kym was not in a good mood by the time she had sedated the Prophetess-Mother. The woman's screeches and howls had given her a vicious headache. There was also the matter of the scratches down the small Chrystallusian woman's arm that stung from the raking Acet had given her. As Kym walked toward the chamber of the Council of Elders her mind was a seething nest of coiled vipers ready to strike out at any of the hierarchy of older women who thought they controlled Rysalia and its satellite moons. Barely glancing at the two Amazeen guards who stood to either side of the tall bronze doors that led into the Council Chamber, Kym's jaw was clenched tightly. "I have business with the Elders,” Kym stated. The Amazeen on the right quickly opened the door for the Auxiliary Prophetess, bowing respectfully as Kym swept past. "Ah, LeJong,” the Grand Maitresse greeted her. “You have news for us of Her Eminence?" Kym inclined her head. When Acet met her end—in whichever way her lifeline ceased to flow—Kym would be the Heir Apparent to her position. Already she had authority among the Elders for hers was a cooler head than Acet's. "Her Eminence had to be sedated. She put great strain upon her heart this morn,” Kym reported. “She will sleep for most of the day and perhaps through the evening hours." The Grand Maitresse shook her head. “Such behavior does not speak well for her longevity." "Her behavior alienated many among the women,” the Législateur, the lawgiver spoke up. Among the nine Elderly women of the Council, she was the oldest—and presumably the wisest. “Her Eminence did

not help her cause in the matter of Kamerone Cree." "I was embarrassed for Her Eminence,” the Médicine, the newest member of the Elders spoke up. She had taken Hael Sejm's position on the Council. Kym nodded. “As were many of us, Your Grace." "So, his life is not to be taken,” the Grand Maitresse stated. “I cannot say I am pleased he will not pay for his crimes against us." "And what crimes are those, Your Grace?” Kym inquired. A frown slipped over the face of the Grand Maitresse. “Those which condemned him before this Council, Dr. Kym." "He murdered three Amazeen warrioresses,” the Militaire reminded Kym. "Aye, but they were Amazeen warrioresses and not true Daughters,” Kym said. “And he did so only because they posed a threat to his lady.” She spread her hands. “Are we to fault the man for saving the mate he was promised he could have?" The Council of Elders remained silent, none of them wishing to tackle the issue of what had been promised to the Reaper upon his help in freeing the women of Rysalia from their slavery to the Empire. "Are you here to argue his cause, Dr. Kym?” the Gardine, the chief wardess of the prison inquired. "I would champion him, aye,” Kym answered. “I have said all along that we treated the man unfairly, dishonorably, and I stand by that opinion." The Législateur leaned forward. “What would you have us do, LeJong? Release him? Send him back to Terra?” She tapped a page of paper sitting before her. “A death warrant was issued for him—a decision not lightly taken." "But perhaps erroneously taken?” Kym asked. "It is evident you are his champion, Dr. Kym,” the Ravitailleur said. “Is it your opinion he should be treated with honor?" Kym knew she had a staunch ally in Fabienne Corday, the Elder in charge of provisioning the Daughters. She swung her attention to the very thin woman. "I do not believe we should torment him as I am sure is Her Eminence's plan. It will be hard enough on him watching his bloodkin dispatched at the Feast." "I agree with you on what Her Eminence would like to see happen to Cree,” the Gardine said. “It bothers me that he was tortured onboard theAlluvia . There was no call for that." Kym met Yvette Dubois’ eye and knew she had another friend sitting on the Council. “I was most distressed to hear he was treated in such a manner." "What would you have us do, Kym?” the Grand Maitresse asked.

"Put forth an edict that will keep him from being abused by the Daughters,” Kym replied. "And will that edict extend to Her Eminence?” the Législateur queried. "It should specifically state Her Eminence,” the Architecte put in. “I found her conduct this morn irrational and counterproductive to our cause." Surprised she had a supporter in Alexandre Neville, Kym breathed a sigh of relief. “I fear Her Eminence allows her heart to run away with her head at times." "My feelings as well, Dr. Kym,” Marie Fasset, the Éducateur agreed. The woman in charge of the Daughters’ education smiled at Kym, her eyes twinkling. Kym now knew there were at least four of the nine women behind her in the wish that Cree not suffer unduly. All it would take would be one more to side with her for there to be a majority should the issue come to a vote. The Grand Maitresse was certainly not one she could count on and she suspected the newest member—the Médicine—would wait to see how things stood before she put forth her support. Cyle Acet's stand on the matter was a given. That left only the Militaire or the Législateur who might prove to be receptive to aiding Cree. "As a warrioress,” the Militaire began, “I have long admired the Iceman's abilities. It would be a shame to break such a valiant man." Hard pressed not to smile, Kym simply tilted her head to one side in acknowledgement of Michelle Abney's comment. The Chrystallusian woman had her majority. "We will take the matter under consideration,” the Grand Maitresse snapped. She was not a stupid woman and she realized hers was an opinion in the minority on the Council. Kym bowed deeply. “That is all I can ask, Your Grace.” She looked at each of the Elders in turn then left the Council Chamber. **** Kahmal also was having a difficult time keeping her smile from slipping into place. She had gone to the Rysalian Fleet offices to inquire after fueling and provisioning her ship and had been stunned to learn the Militaire had already left orders to see to the ship. "Her Grace suggested you would want to leave for Amazeen directly after the Feast,” the yeoman in charge had told her. She handed Kahmal the necessary papers. Leaving the Fleet offices, she glanced toward the cage. Cree was sitting where he'd been all morning and the cage was ringed with women gawking at him. The Amazeen Major ground her teeth as she neared the cage. "Have you women nowhere to be?” she called out. “Or does pestering the man amuse you?" Blank looks were turned Kahmal's way as she approached. “No one is pestering him,” one of the women told her. “We are merely observing him." "Like we would any animal in a cage,” another said and a few of the women laughed.

"Be about your business, ladies,” Kahmal said. “There will be plenty for you to see come the Feast." Grumbling, the women began to disburse, sending Kahmal nasty looks. To the women of Rysalia Amazeens were to be tolerated because they were warriors and their abilities were needed for protection but most Rysalians detested the tall, muscular females as well as feared them. "You aren't making friends and influencing enemies, ‘Kadia,” Cree said softly. "I was not aware this was a popularity contest, Reaper,” Kahmal snapped. “I do not care what those imbeciles think of me." "Where is Dorrie?” Unable to penetrate the lead-lined walls of the Titaness, he had not been able to track his friend's whereabouts and he was concerned for her. "She is in a cell near the Reapers,” Kahmal said and to a casual observer watching her speak to Cree, she appeared hostile. "Is she all right?" "She was cursing a blue streak as the Terrans say but other than being infuriated that they have deloused her and shorn off her braid, she is as well as can be expected. A lead torque was placed around her neck to keep the Reapers from communicating with her.” Kahmal grimaced. “Enough of her. How are you?" Cree sighed. “I'm thirsty. Do you think they will at least give me something to drink? It is hot out here and I've got a bitch of a headache." "I will see to it.” She walked around the cage where she could see his face. “Are you ill?" "My back is killing me,” he replied. “I've had no Triso today." Kahmal wrapped her hands around the bars. “Why did you not remind me of that this morn?" He shrugged. “In the anticipation of landing, it slipped my mind. Now, the parasite is reminding me of how big a fool I was." "I'll be right back!” she said and hurried off. The last thing they needed was for Cree to screw up his schedule and Transition out of cycle still again. She knew he had to be in greater discomfort that he was letting on and could have kicked herself for forgetting about what he needed. The Healer's Complex was deep inside the Fleet Command headquarters—near the middle of the vast complex. Walking as fast as she could, Kahmal bulldozed past women who turned to glare at her. Nearly running by the time she reached the medical facility, she was sweating when she rushed up to the receptionist's desk. "I need to speak with your Chief of Staff immediately,” Kahmal demanded. The receptionist arched a thin brow. “Do you have an appointment?" Not even thinking about what she was doing, Kahmal reached across the desk and grabbed the receptionist by her collar and pulled the woman out of her seat.

"I have a Prime Reaper who has not had his daily 250 mg dosage of Triso sitting out there in the hot sun. Do you want to be the one to tell the Council of Elders you are the cause of him Transitioning out of cycle? Would you like to be thrown into the cage with him to administer his Triso to keep that from happening?" The receptionist's face paled. “No, Major,” she said and grunted when Kahmal shoved her back into her chair. The woman was quick to punch in the Chief of Staff's secretary. She spoke briefly with the secretary then looked up at Kahmal, her hands shaking. "The Chief of Staff will be right out with the Triso, Major,” the receptionist said. The thick double doors leading into the medical operatories swung open and an imposing blonde woman came straight toward Kahmal. “Do you know how to administer this?” she asked, holding up the vac-syringe. "I would think he does,” Kahmal replied. “I doubt any one wants to get into the cage with him and that includes me." Her face losing what little color it had, the Chief of Staff nodded, extending the vac-syringe to Kahmal. “Does he get this every morning?" "Aye,” Kahmal replied. “Along with four veds of Sustenance. He must have both and he needs the Sustenance ASAP as well as water." "I will arrange for it to be taken to him but as you say, none of my staff will venture into that cage." "It is securely locked anyway,” Kahmal reminded the Chief of Staff. “They couldn't get in without a guard allowing them to do so.” She turned to leave. "Is there anything else I should know in regards to his health?” the Chief of Staff called out. "Under no circumstances is he to be given any food which contains garlic. Even a minute amount will cause him severe problems." "Aye, I remember that from my pre-med days. I will make sure the nutritionists are made aware." Kahmal waved a hand in acknowledgement of the Chief of Staff's words then sped back to the cage. Even before she reached the bars, she could see the sweat glistening on the Reaper's face and the shivers attacking his muscular frame. "Can you inject yourself?” she asked. "I can try,” he said and pushed up from the concrete. He staggered, putting a hand to his back where his parasite was bulging beneath the skin. "Come close to the bars and I'll do it for you,” Kahmal said, her face showing her concern for his condition. “Are you going through withdrawal this soon?" "Aye, unfortunately so,” he said. He walked over to where she was standing and laid his forehead against the bars that separated them. Sweat was pouring down his face and the underarms and back of

his jumpsuit was soaked. His hands were trembling badly. It was easy to see the large vein in his neck. Kahmal plunged the needle into his flesh and felt the tremor that shuddered through him as the potent, fiery drug invaded his system. "By Alel, that never gets any easier,” he whispered. “Especially when it's been longer than twenty-four hours in between doses." "You need water,” Kahmal said, allowing her hand to touch his cheek before she stepped back. “You are dehydrating. Where the hell is that Sustenance and water?” That said, she spun on her heel and stalked off. The fight had been drained out of the Reaper when the pain in his back began and he slid down beside the bars, leaning against the coolness of the tempered steel. He wrapped his arms around him to still the shakes that had him in their grip. "Here,” Kahmal said, hunkering down before him and thrusting a large cup of water through the bars. Cree reached out and covered Kahmal's fingers with his own and brought the cup to his mouth. He drained it, gulping in the liquid. “My bloodkin?” he asked. “Have you learned anything of them?" "Don't worry about that right now,” Kahmal snapped. “They are no doubt in better condition than you are." He looked into her vivid green eyes. “Do you know that for a fact, ‘Kadia, or are you just guessing?" She knew he could easily read her mind so she shrugged. “I've yet to take a look at them but I will. I was told they have not been maltreated." "I don't trust these women to tell the truth. See to them, ‘Kadia,” he asked. "I will,” she repeated. The Triso was calming the hellion beneath his skin and the Reaper relaxed as he sat leaning against the bars. He plowed a hand through his thick brown hair. “Thank you, ‘Kadia." Kahmal ached to reach out and touch him, to stroke the beads of sweat from his brow. “Don't stay close to the bars,” she warned him. “Only the goddess knows what some of these women are capable of doing if they can lay hands to you." He nodded and took hold of the bars to lever himself up. For a moment he wavered then walked back to the center of the cage and sat down, drawing his knees up again. "See to my sons,” he reminded Kahmal still again. "Stop worrying, Reaper,” she said. “They'll be bringing you some Sustenance and more water in a few minutes." He locked gazes with her before lowering his head to his crossed arms. There was no need for him to tell her he would stop worrying when they made their escape from Rysalia Prime.

"I will come see you in the morning,” Kahmal told him. "I think I'll stay here for awhile,” he said with a snort. Kahmal turned to see a guard hurrying toward her with a beaker of Sustenance and a jug of water. “Just put it inside the cage. He will get it when you are out of his reach." The guard's eyes widened but she did as she was told, scurrying back from the cage as quickly as she could. Without waiting to see if the Reaper would take the offerings, she practically ran back into Fleet Command.

Chapter Twelve "Does it seem to you we have allies here we weren't counting on?” Sern asked Kahmal as the Major got ready to leave the ship later than afternoon. "Kym is definitely a supporter,” Kahmal stated. “I was surprised on that account." "She is in love with our Reaper,” Sern informed her Major. Kahmal blinked. “Are you certain?" "As surely as I stand here,” Sern replied. “I've been tracking her movements and she went straight to the Council of Elders after sedating the mad woman. She has a majority of the Council behind her." "Cree said the goddess swore She would not hinder him in taking his men and leaving Rysalia,” Aegean said. “Perhaps She has a hand in this?" "Aye, but She also told him She would not lift a hand to help him,” Kahmal snapped. "Maybe She changed Her mind,” Chanz commented. "Maybe,” Kahmal agreed. “There was far less anger in that crowd than I expected.” She swiped a hand over her face. “Those gathered seemed more concerned with getting a look at Cree rather than wanting to see him on his knees." Ceatie—Sern's weretiger—pushed his head under the Amazeen woman's arm to remind her he was there. A loud purring filled the ship's bridge as Sern reached down to scratch the animal behind his ear. "Do we have the coordinates of the poles entered into the transport bank?” Kahmal asked. "Aye and as soon as the last Reaper cadet is shackled, I'll have a transport beam locked on him,” Chanz replied. "As well as on Cree and Dorrie,” Lt. Augenia Deon reminded her. "Most assuredly on Cree,” Chanz said. "I told him I would go check on his men,” Kahmal said. “I'll do that before meeting with Kym.

"You've a meeting scheduled with her?” Sern inquired. Kahmal nodded. “Since Acet is incapacitated, it will be Kym who will present me with my Medal of Valor this evening. I asked that there be no ceremony and the Elders reluctantly agreed. I'll receive the medal in Kym's office." "Do you think she knows what we are planning?” a worried Tyrian asked. "You tell me, ‘Dilla,” Kahmal answered. “Our ship is being refueled and provisioned tomorrow morning in anticipation of our leaving for Amazeen directly after the Feast. I didn't even have to request that. It was already in the works before I got to Fleet. The Militaire, herself, put the plan into motion. I checked on where we will be docked and we've been assigned a berth at the very end of the line, as close to the iris as there is. After we and Sorn landed, the docking station was closed to any more ships. Both the DarkWind and Raphaella's StarRaider were ordered into orbit. There will be no hindering those ships when we blast out of here. They'll be right behind us." "How many other ships are docked here?” Chang asked. "I'm told five and that includes theAreto that docked just before we did." "We need to disable as many of those ships as we can,” Aegean pointed out. "'Genia and I will see about that tomorrow." "I'll help,” Tyrian put in. "Don't forget there will be many more ships bringing pilgrims to the Feast,” Deon said. “The sky will be wall to wall with them soon." Kahmal smiled. “As a matter of fact there won't be,” she said. “Fleet told me due to anticipated overcrowding pilgrims are being housed on FSK-9 and 12 and then brought down in shuttles. The DarkWind and the StarRaider were the last allowed to move into an orbit pattern." "Don't forget somewhere out there is the Necroman's ship,” Deon said. “Hopefully, he'll be monitoring the shuttles." "Shuttles won't be a problem. They don't have weapons or the power to overtake an LRC in a chase. We can disable them in a heartbeat,” Sern said. “Don't tell me the goddess isn't working over time to help us." "I'll need to knock out communications as quickly as possible so the ships up there can't be dispatched after us,” Tyrian suggested. "I don't think that will be much of a concern. With all the women down here for the Feast, who would crew the ships?” Chanz asked. "If we can disable the ships in the docking bay, we might be able to get out of here without a pack of she-wolves on our heels!” Sern said. "That's the plan,” Kahmal agreed.

"I would still feel safer if there was no way for the ships up on the frontier stations to learn about what's going on down here,” Tyrian insisted. “Or for Fleet to put out a bulletin to any ships nearby." "Do what you think best, ‘Dilla,” Kahmal told her. She glanced at her timepiece. “I've got to get to Kym's office.” She looked to Deon. “Would you make certain Cree gets fed? He has to be starving by now." "Not a problem." As she exited her ship, Kahmal was careful not to turn her head toward the cage but from the corner of her eye she checked on the man they were all risking their lives to protect. She bit down on her lower lip for he was lying on the concrete in a fetal position, his head on his arm. She knew he had to be uncomfortable. At least there were no women lurking near the cage to annoy him. Kahmal entered the Fleet Command Headquarters and was surprised the halls were empty. The offices she passed appeared to be deserted and as she walked past one and saw a lone worker at her desk, she stopped, went back, and knocked upon the door frame. The worker glanced up at her and smiled. "How may I help you, Major?” the woman asked. "Are the Fleet offices closed already?” Kahmal inquired. "Aye, ma'am, they are. We were given the remainder of the day off in celebration of the Reaper's capture." "I see,” Kahmal said. “Yet you are still working." The woman nodded. “I have nothing to celebrate,” she replied. “To me this is not a joyous occasion." Kahmal tilted her head to one side. “Why not?" "In my opinion Kamerone Cree was treated dishonorably, Major,” the woman answered. “He should have been left where he was. He posed no threat to the Multitude." "I see,” Kahmal said. “Then you should be happy he isn't to meet the fate the Elders had reserved for him." "Aye, but the fate looking him in the face is perhaps a far worse one than the bite of the guillotine's blade,” the woman replied. "How do you mean?" "He is alone, Major. He is without his beloved Bridget." Thanking the woman for her candor, Kahmal continued on down the hall. She had not been expecting any of the women of Rysalia Prime to be concerned about Cree but it seemed the Reaper was not as hated as the Prophetess-Mother would have them believe. Kym's office was in an opulent suite of rooms done in the style of Chrystallusian décor. The secretary who ushered Kahmal into the Auxiliary Prophetess’ office bowed deeply to the Major and inquired if she would care for a cup of green tea.

"Thank you,” Kahmal said. “That would be nice." "Shei-Ling makes wonderful jasmine tea,” Kym said as she indicated a horseshoe chair in front of her desk. “Please, sit, Major Kahmal." Kahmal inclined her head and sat down in the delicate-looking chair. She was surprised at the comfort it provided. "How is he doing this evening?” Kym inquired. Kahmal arched a brow. “The Reaper?” At Kym's nod, she shrugged. “I suppose he is well enough." Kym smiled. “You are in the presence of a woman who has great concern over Kamerone Cree's safety and comfort, Major. I ask you again—how is he?" Kahmal shifted in the chair. “He was lying down when I saw him last. I believe he has one of his migraines." "And not able to sleep it off I would wager,” Kym said. “He has always had problems in that area." "As I understand it, all Reapers have trouble sleeping,” Kahmal replied cautiously. The Auxiliary Prophetess’ smile slowly leached from her face. “He deserves so much more than a bare floor upon which to lay his handsome head. Don't you agree, Major?" "I agree the man has been treated abominably,” Kahmal replied. Despite what Sern had said about Kym's feelings toward Cree, trusting her was not something Kahmal could do easily. “Although he was responsible for the deaths of my sister and cousin when he fled Rysalia Prime." "Deaths I am sure he regrets,” Kym said softly. "He has apologized to me for them,” Kahmal said. "I am told he has a son by Bridget,” Kym said, steepling her fingers beneath her chin. “To your knowledge, has he ever held that child?" A deep frown formed between Kahmal's eyes. “Why should that be of interest to you, Your Grace?" "Humor me, Kahmal. Has he or has he not ever held his son?" Kahmal shook her head. “I do not believe he has." "And I am sure that proved to be a problem between him and Bridie,” Kym said then sighed. “As if there had not been enough troubles already shared between them. I will need to speak to Kamerone before he leaves us." A tingle of alarm rippled down Kahmal's back. “I don't follow, Your Grace." Kym's secretary brought in a tray upon which two cups and a steaming pot of tea sat. She placed the tray on the Auxiliary Prophetess’ desk then poured tea for first Kahmal, then Kym. When she was

finished, she bowed and backed out of the room, shutting the door behind her. "My office has not been tampered with, Major,” Kym assured her visitor. “No unwanted ears will hear our conversation.” She took a sip of her tea. “By this time next week, I will be in different offices.” She smiled. “Much more prestigious than these." "The Prophetess-Mother will be stepping down?" Kym's smile widened. “Stepping down, tripped? Who knows? To paraphrase an old Terran saying, feces occurs." Kahmal's lips twitched. “I see. Then I would like to be the first to congratulate you on your promotion, Your Grace." "Duly noted,” Kym acknowledged. She nudged her chin toward a golden box sitting on her desk blotter. “There is your medal, by the way. Forgive me if I don't pin it on you." "Forgive me if I don't pin it on, either,” Kahmal ventured to say. The two women eyed one another for a few moments then Kym set her tea cup aside. “I know you are being cautious, Akkadia, but there is no need to be. I have no intention of seeing either Kamerone or any more of his kin murdered. I assure you when I ascend the dais as Prophetess-Mother, such atrocities will be banned." "Surely there are no more Reaper kin out there to be at risk,” Kahmal said. "There are two that we know of. One, we had in our grasp for a short while but he managed to escape with several others. His twin was not so lucky. That one was burned to death but not at the poles as his kinsmen before him. His death was an accident." "Was he one of Cree's?” Kahmal inquired. “The one who escaped?" "Aye. Sajin, twin of Aidan, who died. We were unable to find Sajin when we harvested this last batch." "And the other?" "Khiershon, Cree's eldest. I am sure you know Khiershon was taken to the Vex." Kahmal looked down at her lap and plucked a piece of lint from her pants. “I had heard he'd been captured, aye. Do you have any idea where those two are?" Kym shook her head. “No but when they are found—and eventually they will be—I will make sure they are well cared for. They will be incarcerated here in the Titaness but they will not have one hair on their heads harmed." "I see,” Kahmal said. "I hope you do, Akkadia, for I want nothing to happen to Kamerone Cree or his kin and I would rather see him take his bloodsons and blood nephews and leave this part of the megaverse for good,” Kym stated, meeting the other woman's eye with a stern look. “There are, however, those who would like nothing more than to see him burn alongside his men."

"I was once of that mind set,” Kahmal said cautiously. "Understandable considering your sister met her fate at his hands." "Another sibling apparently lost her life on the Vex at the hands of his bloodson,” Kahmal said. “Do you have any knowledge of what happened there?" "Only that several Amazeen were there to execute a death warrant upon Khiershon Cree. It would not surprise me to learn the Serenians had a hand in his rescue. Your domestic queen made the comment that Khiershon had a great friend in a Serenian named Iyan McGregor and if they could find McGregor, they'd find Khiershon. I will need to consult with the goddess and see what She will tell me regarding Kamerone's eldest but my heart tells me he is well." "Cree spoke with Her while he was on theAlluvia ,” Kahmal said. “Or so he claims." "Kamerone is incapable of lying,” Kym reminded her. “If he says he spoke to our goddess, he did.” She cocked her head to one side. “Did he relate to you what was said between them?" "He said She swore not to interfere with him rescuing his bloodkin but that She also told him She would not help him." "Now, that is curious,” Kym commented. “Five of the Elders on the Council are aligned with me to protect our glorious Reaper. The women gathered on the plaza today did not call for his blood." "A few showed anger,” Kahmal disagreed. "I would wager my left tit they were plants, instructed to behave as they did." "That could be. I, myself, witnessed few women willing to condemn him,” Kahmal said. "My thought is the goddess has decided to lend Her aid to Cree. Perhaps She feels it is best to rid us of him once and for all but in a way that will be honorable this time and not show the Multitude in a bad light." Kahmal nodded. “That is the telling point, isn't it, Your Grace. Honorable?" "If I had been allowed to have my way, you and your strike force would not have been sent after him in the first place. He deserved his freedom for what he did in helping our cause." Kahmal looked down at her hands. “We would have been sent after him whether or not the Daughters asked us to or not. He killed three of our Sisters. It was the defense queen's decision to send us. One of those killed was her youngest daughter." "Ah,” Kym said. “I am sorry to hear that. Will she press the issue when he escapes this time?" "She might, but since her eldest daughter will be with him when he flees—never able to return to Amazeen for her treasonous act—she might decide not to intervene." "To—as the Terrans say—cut her losses?” Kym pressed.

"It seems our queens each have a Reaper to thank for her daughter's treachery,” Kahmal said quietly. “Queen Rhia's daughter, Raphaella, fled with Khiershon Cree, helping him escape in the first place.” She closed her eyes. “Now Queen Melanippe's daughter will be branded a traitor, too." "I am sure your mother will one day forgive you, Akkadia,” Kym said. "Never,” Kahmal said. She opened her eyes and lifted her head. “She will never forgive me, but that can not be helped. Cree saved my life as well as those of Chanz and Sern. He is deserving of our loyalty and help." "More than you will ever know,” Kym agreed. “By the way, send the Necromani and the Ionarians to see me as soon as you get back to your ship. I want to assess for myself their willingness to aid Kamerone and his kin." Kahmal acknowledged the order although she found it a strange request. **** It was dark, the hour well past midnight, when Cree heard the furtive movement coming closer to the cage. He lay on his side with his eyes cracked open just enough for him to survey the area immediately in front of him. With his acute psychic abilities homing in on the woman creeping toward his prison, he could not detect an aura of anger. All he felt was sadness and fright. There was something bulky in the woman's arms as she advanced on the cage. She was looking about her—her terror keen enough to send vibrations through the air. Although she was trying to be as quiet as possible, she could not control the rapid beat of her heart and Cree could hear it as clearly as he could her tremulous breathing. He saw her squat down by the cage and push what she carried through the bars. Their eyes met as the moon sailed out from behind a bank of clouds. He realized what it was that she had brought him and he sat up slowly. The woman was perched on the ground like a little sparrow and she was trembling from head to toe, poised to run if he made a sudden move. "Thank you,” he said quietly. Her mouth twitched into a hesitant smile but when he made no move to come toward her, the smile stayed. “You are welcome, Captain Cree,” she whispered. "May I know your name?” he asked. She looked about, seeming to expect guards to rush at her. “Diana,” she said. “I was a friend of Bridie's." "And you still are, Diana,” he said. “She will bless you for aiding her husband." "She is well?" "She was when last I saw her,” he said. “We have a son." A long sigh came from Diana. “I am happy for her, Captain.” She lifted a hand in farewell, got to her feet and disappeared into the night.

Cree stood up and went to retrieve the pillow and blanket the woman had given him. His body ached from lying on the hard concrete and he had a brutal headache he suspected was because he hadn't had all that much to eat the day before. The food that had been begrudgingly provided for him had been minimal and almost tasteless, shoved into the cage by a woman who had actually hissed at him. He smiled thinking of Deon cursing the woman and calling her a coward. Taking the pillow and blanket back to the center of the cage, he lay down on his back, grateful for the softness and the clean smell of the pillow case. Although the night was chill, he was perfectly comfortable since Reaper body temperatures were higher than that of humans. The blanket he folded and shoved under his rump to cushion him from the hardness of the floor. He stared up at the juncture where the bars of the cage met at the top, welded together to form an arched ceiling. There was no covering to protect him should the vagaries of the Rysalia Prime weather decide to turn stormy—as it often did at that time of year—and no shade to keep out the blazing sun that had plagued him the day before. But through the overhead bars, he could see the stars and therefore did not feel as claustrophobic as he would have if his confinement had been enclosed. Nevertheless, he felt his imprisonment to the depths of his soul, hating the fact that he was restrained, locked up, unable to move about freely. To a Reaper, it was a torment that was barely endured. Though his incarceration was troubling, it was not the cause of the agony that was ripping his heart to shreds, keeping him from sleep. His thoughts as he stared up at the stars were on Bridget and he felt the tears gathering in his eyes. Angrily blinking them away, he clenched his teeth. It would not do for him to give in to his misery. There was nothing he could do about it at that moment. The memory of her face that last day in the hospital cafeteria was burned into his mind's eye. She had been sobbing—her fear a sentient life form. She had held out a hand to him, telling him she was sorry, calling him her beloved, telling him she loved him, a moment before he'd been snatched away from her. Tylan Kahn had been laying a few feet away, unconscious, and his condition unknown. If Kahn was able, he would be looking after Bridget now, taking care of her and Jaelin. Cree knew it would be years of Terran time before he might see either again—if he ever did. By now, his and Bridget's son Jaelin would be talking, walking. Thinking of his son brought intense hurt to Cree's soul. On Terra, he had been unable to touch his child, even though he ached to do so, for fear the beast within him would hurt the boy. "I miss you, milady,” he whispered to the stars. “I miss our son. I hope you both are well." He was remembering the last time he made love to her, the last time they had been true husband and wife. It had begun with a silly argument over a garbage bag. "Gimme the bag!" "No,” he said on a long breath. “But I'll give you something else." She had stilled, looking up into his hot eyes to watch the desire forming there. Her own eyes widened. “Oh, no, you won't!” Before she could move, he had her against him, his arms enfolding her. She squirmed, trying to break free, but his hold tightened. "Be still,” he whispered, his lips against her ear.

"Bastard,” she said, but her heart wasn't in the insult for the hardness of him was pressed intimately against her belly. "Bitch,” he whispered in return and ran his tongue inside her ear. She shivered, melting against him. “Is this all you know how to do?" "No,” he replied. “I know how to do this, too.” He moved one hand between her legs. "Oh hell.... “She sighed. The heat of his palm was at the juncture of her thighs and pressing against her own heat. "How about tearing into something other than a garbage bag, Dr. Dunne?" "Like?” she asked as she slowly lifted her gaze to his. He grinned and lifted her onto the counter. He pushed her skirt up her thighs then wedged between her legs. “Oh, I don't know,” he muttered. He hooked his fingers in her panties and ripped them away. “Like a bag of cotton candy maybe?" She shrieked with exasperation then wrapped her long legs around his waist to anchor him to her. “You are a hateful man, Captain Cree!" "I am a horny man, Doctor Dunne." "A condition you seem to perpetuate of late." He shrugged. “Perhaps I can have Troi engineer a fembot to—" "The hell you will!” She reached out to take his face in her hands. She pulled his head toward her then slanted her mouth hungrily across his. As she drove her tongue between his teeth, she had heard his answering growl of passion and felt him fumbling with the zipper of his jeans. "Wicked woman,” he said against her mouth as he freed himself. "Your wicked woman." "Aye,” he agreed as he drove into her. “Cree's very wicked woman." A single tear slid unbidden down the Reaper's face, but he didn't notice. His attention was fixed on the black heavens and the twinkling stars that were so far, far away. **** Cirolla Sern sensed Cree's misery and wished there was something she could do to ease his desolation. She'd been reading his thoughts all evening and had known the exact moment the woman had provided a small measure of comfort to him. She had used her unique talents to shield the woman from hostile eyes that might have prevented her from seeing to Cree's needs. Likewise she had protected Diana from guards who might have stopped her and thrown her into prison for what she'd done to aid the Reaper. Turning over in her bunk onboard theAlluvia , she sent her mind wanderings out in search of other

women who had talents like her own, but she encountered none. If there were such women on Rysalia Prime, they were carefully shielding themselves from her probing or—more than likely—the potential invasion of the Reaper's sublims. "Go to sleep, lady. Stop worrying about me." The whisper invaded Sern's mind like a slide of velvet and she smiled. "You go to sleep, Reaper,"she sent back to him and heard a soft chuckle in return. "How can I sleep when you're broadcasting louder than a klaxon, wench?" "Goodnight, Cree." He did not reply and Sern pulled the covers over her shoulders and settled down, closing her eyes and her mind to the man who had inadvertently captured her heart. **** In her lonesome bed, LeJong Kym was also thinking of Kamerone Cree. She had forgotten just how handsome the Reaper was and as she lay there, she pictured the dark thickness of his hair, the sparkle of his sinful amber eyes and she sighed. He still had the ability to give her such wicked, wicked ideas. How she loved the man, she thought—so much so her soul ached for want of him. No man had ever held interest for her and no man ever would save Kamerone Cree. Beside him, no other male could hold a candle to her way of thinking. "Ah, Bridget,” the Chrystallusian scientist breathed. “You are such a lucky woman to have his love, to have known the pleasure of that magnificent body." A part of LeJong wanted to keep Cree there forever simply to have him near, but the great love she bore the man would not allow her to hurt him such a way. He needed to be with his mate and Kym would make sure that came to pass. Despite the insanity that ruled Cyle Acet and her misguided followers, Kym would see to it that the Prime Reaper gained his freedom to return to Terra. But before that could happen, she must see him. Come morning, she would send guards to bring him to her office for there were things she needed to tell him, things he needed to know. Cree's future life with Bridget depended on him learning what Kym had discovered.

Chapter Thirteen "Where the hell did you get that pillow?" Cree slowly opened his eyes and looked at the irate woman on the other side of the bars. He could see her practically quivering with outrage as she stood there holding his vac-syringe of Triso and beaker of Sustenance. "Get up and bring that pillow to me right now!” the woman shouted, her eyes blazing with fury. Kahmal had just exited theAlluvia and was on her way to the Titaness to check on Cree's bloodkin. She had schooled herself not to look toward the cage but at the angry shout, she turned her head and frowned.

"Do you hear me, beast?” the guard yelled. “You'll not get this shit until you hand over that pillow and blanket!" A muscle flexed in the Prime Reaper's jaw and he sat up, crooked one knee, and rested his wrist upon it. He didn't like being yelled at by a woman and especially not by one who looked as though her face had been constructed in a cement mixer. His amber eyes narrowed viciously as he stared at the guard. "Get the hell up, Cree!” the guard screamed again, stomping her foot like a spoiled child. Sern and Deon were right behind Kahmal and the three were standing in front of their ship, taking in the scene that had already garnered the attention of every woman on the plaza. A crowd was gathering, pointing, waiting to see what would happen. Aegean, Tyrian, and Chanz were in their ship viewing the ruckus on theAlluvia's vid-com screen. "Doesn't she have sense enough to know not to talk to him in that way?” Chanz asked. “Look at his face." Aegean shuddered. “I wouldn't want him looking at me like that." "Aye, if looks could kill...” Chanz agreed. "'Kadia better intercede or the bitch is liable to pour out the Sustenance and take the Triso back into Fleet Command with her,” Tyrian said. "I'm not going to say it again, Iceman. Give me that pillow and blanket or else!" Kahmal groaned. She knew Cree despised the nickname and no one dared say it to his face, much less scream it at him. She started toward the guard, the Prime Reaper's words bringing her up short. "You want it, slut?” Cree queried. His eyes were shooting crimson sparks and the fingernails of the hand on his knee had extended to thick curved talons that were idly drumming against leg. He smiled nastily to reveal sharp rows of wicked fangs as his voice lowered to a savage growl. “Then come and get it." Women backed away from the cage even though they were nowhere near the bars. Faces turned white as parchment. Eyes grew wide. None had ever seen a Reaper in Transition and few wanted to. "Is he Transitioning?” Deon gasped. "By the goddess I hope not,” Sern said and tried to slip under his radar to read his mind. When he snapped his head toward her and impaled her with those deadly eyes, she withdrew quickly, feeling the brunt of his anger wash over her like scalding water. The guard had gone as still as death. She stood there with the Triso and Sustenance locked in her hands, unable to move as the man in the cage got slowly to his feet like the predator he was. She stared at him as he crouched there—legs spread, claws flexed, fangs showing—and felt her water cascading down her pant leg. The hot stench of her urine made her moan. "What are you waiting for?” the Reaper taunted. “You wanted this stuff. I dare you to come in here to retrieve it."

Shaking her head, the guard forced herself to take a step back. She nearly screamed when the Amazeen Major appeared at her side and snatched the Triso and Sustenance from her grip. "He'll not forget you. He has your scent in his nostrils,” Kahmal told the guard. “I suggest you never get close enough to him for him to grab you, sergeant, else he'll tear you apart. You'd better warn the other guards to leave him the hell alone! Now get out of here while you still can." Not needing a second command, the guard fled, running as fast as she could back into Fleet Command. Those who had stopped to observe what was happening made no move to leave. They knew the cage would hold the Reaper and they were curious to see what he would do next. His scarlet-glowing eyes had shifted to Major Kahmal and held. Kahmal swallowed. She was staring into the eyes of a being that at that moment was more beast than man and she could sense the fury that was pumping through him. He had yet to draw in his claws, retract his fangs, and the carmine gleam in his glower unnerved her. "Behave, Kamerone,” she whispered, knowing he would be able to hear her with his acute hearing. He cocked his head slightly and growled low in his throat. "Please,” she amended. Slowly the talons shrank, disappearing into the tips of his fingers and the fangs withdrew. The heated red glare was the last thing to vanish but in its place was a frigid look t