15 Targeted (15 page)

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Authors: Evangeline Anderson

Tags: #steamy science fiction, #HEA, #brides of the kindred, #happy ending, #evangeline anderson, #alpha male, #spicy romance, #hot romance

BOOK: 15 Targeted
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“You don’t understand,” Emily interrupted. “That—what I was doing? The way I was acting? That was
exactly
how I was acting the night Grayson and I…the night he…
that
night.”

Emily didn’t know why she was telling him this—admitting things she hadn’t even told her older sister, who was the only one she’d confided to about what had happened. But somehow once she started, she couldn’t seem to stop.

“I…I was all over him,” she whispered brokenly. “Right out in the bar in the open—
everyone
saw it. I was shameless—exactly the way I was with you just now. Only Grayson didn’t try to stop me—or himself.”

“Of course not. He is a male without honor.” He sounded angry now but Emily could tell it wasn’t at her—he was still enraged at Grayson. It made her feel better to hear the anger in his voice and know it was directed at her attacker but she still wasn’t sure she deserved his absolution.

“I didn’t want him to stop,” she said in a low voice. “Not at first. Not until he started to…to put…to put himself inside of me.” God, she could barely get the words out but somehow they had to come. This was like a wound that had been festering much too long—the poison
had
to come out. The big Kindred seemed to understand.

“Go on,” he murmured though there was a pained expression on his face. “Say what you need to say.”

“He…it…” Emily shook her head, trying to put what had happened into words. “I wanted it so much—felt like I’d die if I didn’t have it. If I didn’t get…”

“Get bred,” he finished for her.

Emily looked down at her hands. “I was going to say if I didn’t get
fucked.”

“Breeding is the culmination of
Tenrah,”
he told her. “But it must not happen until the
Khalla
has passed through all four stages. An early breeding often means death.”

“I
wanted
to die,” Emily whispered, looking up at him. “It…it hurt
so much.
But it wasn’t just the pain. It was the…the
wrongness.”
She shook her head. “I can’t explain it any better than that. It just felt so awful… like I was doing something unnatural and sick. Something
perverted…”

“He wasn’t your species,” Tragar rumbled. “Your body knew that. A male Kindred can mate with almost any receptive female, no matter the species. But a
Khalla
can only be bred by one of her own kind.”

“So that’s why it hurt so much? Why it felt so wrong?” Emily shivered. “I mean aside from the fact that he was…doing what he was doing after I begged him not to.”

“Your body rejected him. Or tried to anyway.”

“I
did
try,” Emily said fiercely. “I fought and kicked and bit and shouted for him to stop.” She looked away. “He wouldn’t.”

“As I said, a male without honor.” His deep voice was little more than a growl and she could see that his large hands had bunched into fists, as though he was longing to hurt Grayson—to make him pay for his brutality all those years ago. His anger on her behalf gave her the courage to go on—to finish what she needed to say.

“Afterwards he…” She swallowed and her throat clicked dryly. “Afterwards he said no one would believe me and I knew he was right. So many people had seen me coming on to him…so many people saw us leave together—saw me practically dragging him out of there. Grayson said he only…only gave me what I asked for. And…and I
did
ask for it. Right up until he started doing it I wanted it—
needed
it. And then it all changed. The
other
deserted me—she got me into that mess and then she left and I was stuck and I couldn’t get away…”

“It wasn’t your fault or the fault of your
Kit’tara
either.”

“Yeah, right.” She looked away.

“Look at me.” He lifted her chin. “It
wasn’t your fault,
Emily,” he repeated firmly. “You were in
Tenrah—
in heat on a planet that knows nothing of such things. But even if you hadn’t been—even if you had been the Earth female you believed yourself to be—he should have stopped when you asked him to.”

“He said he couldn’t. He said once you push a man too far—”

“That’s
lisht,”
he said harshly. “In your language, ‘bullshit.’ A male can always stop—a male with honor
will
always stop when a female asks him to.”

Emily wanted to believe him—wanted to let the load of guilt she’d been carrying for years drop away but it was hard…so hard to let go of a burden that had almost become part of her.

“But the way I was coming on to him…”

“Was it the way you were acting towards me?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.

Emily nodded and hung her head.

“Yes, like I said. Exactly.”

“Look at me, Emily.” He lifted her chin again. “The way you touched me…the feel of you in my arms…and most of all your scent…” He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. “Gods,” he nearly groaned, looking at her again. “All these things are incredibly arousing—
you
are incredibly arousing.”

“I…I am?” She couldn’t help feeling surprised. For so long she’d thought of herself as just a mousy little kindergarten teacher—a plus sized girl with a slightly pretty face and nothing much else to recommend her. Yet here was this huge Kindred warrior saying he found her “arousing.” How could it be?

“You are,” he murmured. “Yet I didn’t take what you offered because I knew it was wrong—knew that
I
was wrong for you.” He frowned. “That bastard who hurt you should have done the same—
could
have done the same. He should have stopped.”

“I…he…”

“Listen…” He looked at her intently. “You had the right to change your mind. You had the right to say no—no matter what you felt or wanted before. When your feelings changed it was your prerogative to end the encounter. He
should
have accorded you that right and respected your choice.”

“Thank you.” She couldn’t bear the intensity in his golden eyes and had to look down at her hands. “Thank you, I…I’ve never been able to tell anyone all of it before—not even my sister. I…I don’t feel quite so ashamed anymore.”

“We have all done things we feel shame for,” he said briefly.

“What are
you
ashamed of?” she asked curiously. “I mean, you said you’re an assassin—are you sorry for the people you’ve killed?” Then she bit her lip. Oh God, had she really just asked him that? What had possessed her?

“That is not the shame I speak of.” His voice was low, almost too low to hear.

Emily could hear the warning bells going off in her brain but somehow she couldn’t stop herself from asking.

“What is it then?

For a moment, she almost thought he might answer. Then his face darkened and he rose abruptly.

“It was nothing. Nothing that concerns you.”

Silhouetted in the fire light, he looked absolutely huge—a black shadow with golden flames for eyes.

“Wait, please…” Emily held out a hand to him but he stepped away from her.

“It’s true—I have killed again and again,” he said in a low growl and when he looked up at her, his eyes had gone from gold to crimson red. “I have renounced the Goddess and stained my soul black with sin.”

“You…you have?” Emily heard the squeak in her voice but couldn’t stop it.

Slowly, he nodded.

“I have abandoned training, faith, and morality to get where I am and I have never failed to kill my target…until now.”

“You haven’t?” Another frightened squeak she seemed unable to control. Say what you wanted about the
other
, but when she was around, Emily certainly felt braver. Just now she felt terribly alone in her own skin. As well as extremely small and vulnerable.

The huge Kindred nodded again.

“And do you know why I cannot kill you?”

“Um…” There didn’t seem to be any reason at all. “I…I…”

“Because though I have abandoned every other aspect of my former life, I cannot abandon biology. Your scent forbids me to spill your blood. It awakes protective instincts in me that insist you must be shielded at all costs. At
all costs.
” He emphasized that as if it was very important.

“So if I smelled different you’d just…just pull the trigger?”

“Without hesitation.” He was glowering at her now, as if she could help the way she smelled to him. “I am a member of the
Verrak.
We kill without pity or remorse. Look at me, Emily.” His eyes blazed even brighter. “I…am…
Death
. And I have never stayed my hand until now.”

Something flared in her—maybe the
other
or just her own natural defiance—she didn’t like feeling backed into a corner.

“Well I’m sorry you can’t bring yourself to kill me,” she snapped.

“Don’t be.” He looked away, staring into the fire. “I may have ample cause to regret it but you will not. I will protect you though it costs my life to do so.” Abruptly he seemed a little less scary—almost sad, Emily thought.

“Tragar—”

“I must go,” he said abruptly. “This will be your room. Make yourself comfortable for the duration of the trip.”

“But…but how long will that be?”

But he had already turned and left her sitting on the bed. Emily watched him go, having no idea what she should do or what might happen to her next.

* * * * *

Tragar paced outside the room, up and down the metal corridor that led from the living areas of his ship to the bridge. Gods, what was wrong with him? Was he allowing himself to go soft?

He’d promised himself he would keep her safe and protect her from any harm or other would-be assassins—what he
hadn’t
promised was to have to reassure her, or to ease her pain, both physically and emotionally.

But after the spanking, he’d felt obligated to try and allay the discomfort he’d caused by bathing her softly rounded bottom with a cloth soaked in cooling elixir. And then, when she’d told the details of the human male’s attack on her, he hadn’t been able to help himself from trying to ease that pain either. The hurt in her eyes was too much to bear—too much for him to remain silent. He’d wanted to let her know the assault wasn’t her fault. That the guilt didn’t lie with her but with her attacker.

And then you almost answered her question about your past—about your secret shame.
Tragar shook his head at his own foolishness. How often had he pushed that old hurt out of his head? How often had he refused to confront it? And yet the moment she asked him, he was ready to spill his dark past into her lap like so much bilge water. What in the Seven Hells was wrong with him?

It’s her scent,
he told himself uneasily.
It has to be her scent. It’s working on me—making me want to admit things…tell things I’ve never told anyone. I must stand firm—I must be strong enough to keep myself apart…and to keep my hands off her lush body.

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