15 Targeted (37 page)

Saskia seemed to understand her problem.

“Come, Xen’dex…” She tugged at her mate’s arm. “There’s something I want to show you, just over here.”

With a lingering look at Emily that made her face feel hot, the older male nodded and allowed himself to be led a little ways away. Once she was sure they were out of earshot, Emily looked back at Tragar.

“She gave me these.” She had shifted her nightgown to try and cover the strange metal nipple covers but now she shifted it back, allowing the silver thimbles with their golden chain tassels to come into view through the ragged holes.

Tragar looked grim.

“If that’s star-silver, you’ve got to take them off at once,” he growled. “That stuff is dangerous—Xen’dex says so.”

“She told me it would stop the flow of my nectar,” Emily said, frowning. “And you know what? Since I put them on, I haven’t, uh, leaked at all.” Although she had to admit her breasts felt awfully full and achy.

“Xen’dex has some clamps that will do the same thing and won’t hurt you in the process,” Tragar said, frowning.

“But will they stop the
Tenrah
from advancing? Because that’s what Grandy See-er promised me these would do.” She nodded down at the silver nipple caps.

“It’s not safe to stop it completely!” Tragar protested. “You can delay it but halting it totally is dangerous.”

“I don’t know about that. I—” Suddenly a wave of dizziness came over her, causing her to sway.

“Emily?” Tragar tightened his grip on her arms and looked at her anxiously. “Are you all right?”

“Fine, I’m fine. Just hungry,” she murmured.

It had been hours since her last meal with Tragar which had consisted of some kind of protein travel bars he apparently lived on when he was on the job and hunting a target. Emily could feel her stomach growling—which was probably why she felt so faint all of a sudden.

She took a deep breath and tried to straighten up.
Okay, get a grip,
she lectured herself.
You’re just tired. Everything is going to be just f—

Then her breasts began to ache fiercely and another wave of dizziness hit her. With a low cry, she collapsed into Tragar’s arms.

Chapter Eighteen

“What’s wrong with her? Is she all right?”

“It must be the star-silver—it’s poisoning her. Those pinchers need to come off!”

“She’s very sensitive just now. I don’t know how that would affect her—or how much it might hurt.”

Emily’s eyelids fluttered and she looked up to see three anxious faces peering down at her. One of them was Tragar’s, and the other was the older male Kindred and Saskia.

“What? Where…where am I?” She tried to sit up but Tragar held her down gently but firmly.

“Rest a minute—you’ve been out for a while,” he growled softly.

“For a while?” Emily echoed. She looked around and saw she was lying on a strange, high bed with a canopy overhead. Only the canopy wasn’t cloth—it was made of green and blue and purple vines twined together to make a living covering. There were small pink and red buds on some of the vines which gave out a sweet, spicy fragrance that made her want to sneeze. “What is this place?” she whispered.

“You’re in my guest chamber.” Saskia smiled at her and then cast a wary glance at Tragar. “In the bed my grandmere grew for me. You and your, uh, male are welcome to stay here for as long as you are ill.”

“I’m ill?” Emily felt a surge of panic. “What’s wrong with me? Why did I faint?”

“These damn things…” Tragar nodded down at the silver metal tips on her nipples which were once again poking out of her nightgown in a very embarrassing way. “They need to come off.”

“But the nectar,” Emily protested. “The pinchers are all that’s keeping it from flowing! They’re keeping me from moving on to the next stage.” She was certain of this although why exactly she felt so strongly about it she couldn’t have said. Actually, her breasts ached fiercely and they seemed to have gotten even bigger while she was out but still, a voice inside her told her she didn’t want to take off the strange silver clamps.

“You cannot stop the flow completely.” The older male Kindred who had to be Xen’dex was looking at her sternly. “It will kill you,
Khalla.
You must remove the star-silver clamps or allow Tragar to take them off for you.”

“But…”

“No buts, Emily,” Tragar growled. “They
must
come off—they are endangering your life.”

“Fine.” It seemed she was outnumbered. Though she still had a strong internal feeling that the pinchers needed to stay on, she could see she wasn’t going to be allowed to keep them. “Fine,” she said again. “But I’m not taking them off here in front of God and everybody. Is there a bathroom around here?” She looked at Saskia pleadingly. “And could I get a shower? I
really
need one.”

“Of course.” The other girl smiled at her warmly. “You have the full hospitality of our domicile. The bathing chamber is just over there.” She nodded at a tall, oval doorway across the room which seemed to be covered by a hanging curtain of vines.

“Thank you.” Emily sat up with a little difficulty and took a deep breath.

“You’re weak right now—I’ll come with you,” Tragar said.

“I can manage on my own.” She shot him a glare. He was
making
her do this—making her take off the only things that were standing between her and the awful change that was consuming her body bit by bit. That, plus the way he’d shouted at her when he first found her meant she wasn’t exactly feeling very friendly towards him right now.

Of course he also hugged you so hard your ribs still ache from it and nearly cried he was so glad to get you back,
whispered a little voice in the back of her head. But Emily pushed it away. She was a little shaky when she stood but she managed to get off the high side of the bed without falling.

“See? I’m fine,” she said and ruined it by stumbling. “Oops!”

“Emily—” He tried to catch her arm but she had already righted herself and she eluded his big hand.

“I’m okay—I’m fine,” she repeated stubbornly.

The big Kindred looked like he was going to take her arm and help her whether she wanted him to or not but Saskia stepped forward.

“Let me go with you, Sister, and show you how our bathing facilities work,” she said tactfully, smiling at Emily.

Emily smiled gratefully back.

“All right, thank you. That would be nice.”

Ignoring the look Tragar was giving her, she allowed the Wulven girl to take her arm and lead her through the hanging blue and green vines and into the bathroom.

* * * * *

“Well, at least she’s back,” Xen’dex said as the two females disappeared into the bathing area together.

“True, but she doesn’t seem very happy about it.” Tragar stared after her morosely. He wanted to help her—wanted to shield and protect and hold her, especially after almost losing her to the witch. Also, he was still terribly worried about those damn star-silver things she was wearing clamped to her nipples. But it seemed Emily wanted nothing to do with him—not that he could blame her after he’d shouted at her and shook her. But he’d been so
worried,
damn it! So certain that he’d lost her!

“Don’t take it too hard, Tragar.” Xen’dex was watching him sharply and he wondered how many of his thoughts his old master could read on his face. He tried to keep his expression blank but Xen’dex had always had an uncanny ability to know what his students were thinking.

“I’m not,” he said shortly. “I’m just thinking that she seems strangely reluctant to take off those damn things even after we explained they could kill her.”

“That would be the witch’s doing,” Xen’dex said, frowning. “She’s probably placed some kind of suggestion in the
Khalla’s
mind about how she shouldn’t take them off. I told you if she bespelled her it could have far reaching consequences.”

“Could that be why she’s so angry at me, too?” Tragar asked.

“No—
that
my friend, is
your
fault.” Xen’dex shook his head.

“I shouldn’t have lost my temper.” Tragar paced up and down the small room, being careful to avoid the living bed with its canopy of vines and flowers. “I shouldn’t have shouted at her—it’s inexcusable to treat a
Khalla
so.”

“It is inexcusable to treat
any
female so,” Xen’dex corrected gently. “But that is not what I am speaking of. Did you truly tell her, as you told me, that you were only helping her and seeing her safely to Rageron because you
had
to—because of the biological imperative of our kind to protect a
Khalla?”

“Well…” Tragar shifted uncomfortably. Suddenly he felt like he was fifteen cycles old again, being called out before the rest of the class for a wrong answer. “Yes,” he said at last. “I
did
say something like that to her when I first brought her aboard my ship.”

“And you wonder why she feels angry with you and thinks you do not care?” Xen’dex said quietly.

“I care for her,” Tragar protested. “That is…I wish to protect her and see her safely to the Holy Mountains.”

“You wish more than that for her.” Xen’dex gave him another piercing look. “It is time you stopped lying—both to yourself and to Emily. A
Khalla
needs more than just protection, Tragar. She needs
love.”

Tragar turned away.

“That I cannot offer her. My love died ten cycles ago with Jalex and Landra. And even if it had not, I am not her chosen mate.”

“Tragar…” Xen’dex put a hand on his arm. “What happened to your family—”

“Was my own fault.” Tragar shook off his old teacher’s hand and looked at him grimly. “Entirely mine. But I will not allow another in my care to come to harm. I
will
get Emily to the Holy Mountains before another stage of her
Tenrah
passes. There she will find someone worthy of her. Someone other than me.”

Xen’dex looked at him for a long time and then nodded.

“Very well—if that is the way you wish it.”

“I do,” Tragar said shortly but his heart was sore as he spoke the words and he found he couldn’t meet his old master’s eyes.

* * * * *

“Wow, this is some bathroom!” Emily looked around herself in amazement. Everything in the bathroom seemed to be alive. The sink and the toilet—which was high and square—seemed to have been grown rather than made. They were smooth, black wood with the same blue and green vines draped around them that hung in the doorway. There was another curtain of vines—this time purple and pink ones—which shielded the shower area.

“I’m glad you like it. The shower is modeled after the ones they have on Rageron—my mate disliked our mode of bathing and insisted on his own.”

Saskia swept the purple and pink vines aside and stroked a smooth black square just inside the large shower stall. At once a chute opened up near the top of the ceiling and a rush of warm, sweet-smelling, clear turquoise water poured out. Emily thought it looked like a miniature water fall and longed to get in it at once—she didn’t know when she’d needed a shower so badly.

Of course, she’d had a brief shower back on Tragar’s ship but that seemed like ages ago. Since then she’d been cooped up in the stuffy shuttle, a guest in Grandy See-er’s rather cluttered hovel, and running up and down a hot, dusty street being chased by a bunch of horny alien men. She felt grimy and sticky and thoroughly disgusting.