A Warlord's Lady (20 page)

Cain ran his hands through his hair. He should take Sabra back to Laos, but with an attack on the compound likely to be imminent, he was reluctant to do so. He knew it was improbable that he would be traced to his Geraldton apartment — the massive expanses of bush and farmland between the city of Perth and Geraldton usually dispersed any trace of magical ions — which was why he generally kept apartments and houses in rural areas rather than the major cities. They’d be safe for a time, how long he wasn’t sure.

Cain sighed and thrust his hand down into his pocket to withdraw the little blue box. He turned it over in his hands and stared at it. Would she accept him this time? He had his doubts, but he had told her the truth, and if she
had
fallen for him in Laos, perhaps she would again.

***

In the shower, Sabra washed gently between her legs, the slickness that oozed from between them was Cain’s work. The vague flittering memories sent sparks of heat through her. He said he loved her, hadn’t he, or had she just imagined it?

It didn’t matter anyway.
It’s all just to get my genetics,
she reminded herself and shook her head ruefully. She took her time and washed her hair, allowing the chromatophore cells to shift and change with abandon.

Prophecy.
She scoffed inwardly. How could he honestly expect her to believe
that
.

There was a knock on the door.

‘Sabra?’ Cain called through the door.

Her heart catapulted into her throat.

‘Yes?’ she called.

‘There are clothes on the bed for you,’ he called out.

If it’s a rainbow coloured wrap…
she mused. ‘Thanks,’ she called and rinsed her hair. The hot water spilled over her shoulders and she shivered despite the warmth.

She exited the shower and wrapped herself in a plush white towel, and opened the door to the bedroom.

Cain had changed his clothes too, and magicked himself clean. He looked as neat as a pin, but infinitely more sexy.

He smiled at her and gestured to the clothes on the bed. It was then she noticed the ring box. The tears stung her eyes. He was bringing out the big guns today, that’s for sure.

‘Why are you doing this to me?’ she said, hating how weak and breathy she sounded. ‘I can’t take this ring, I told you that before.’

‘Why not?’ he asked. ‘I love you.’

So I wasn’t just imagining it.
The words made her heart burn and her eyes sting with more tears.

‘You can’t love me, you just want my eggs like the rest of them.’ Her tone was bitter.

He shook his head and his dark hair fell over his brow. ‘No, I want
you.
What can I do to make you believe me?’ he asked.

‘Nothing,’ Sabra breathed, ‘you can’t do anything.’

He regarded her silently, and she cinched the towel tighter around herself.

Cain finally frowned. ‘Tell me, why would you think I only want your eggs?’ he asked, and his cheeks darkened as if the subject of eggs and fertility embarrassed him, like it would a 12 year old boy.

‘You kidnapped me, Warlord. You killed my friend, you kept me in captivity. You only ever wanted to have sex with me, not talk, not get to know me. I think you were just trying to impregnate me…so you could get my child and my genetics.’

‘I would love for you to bear my child, Sabra,’ Cain said softly. ‘I won’t deny that.’

His words were rewarded by another spasm of emotion. ‘See? I was right.’ Sabra’s chin jutted.

‘No, I didn’t kidnap you for your genetics. You are my prophesied
wife
. I have searched for years to find the woman who with one look could capture my heart. It was
you
. My solemn grey-eyed rainbow. The moment I caught your eye in Vientiane, I was yours. I thought that if you felt remotely the same way I did, it wouldn’t be kidnapping at all. Didn’t you feel it? ’

Sabra stared at him; he seemed to be holding his breath. Had she felt he was hers back in that bar in Vientiane?
Kind of.
She’d certainly felt it when she’d seen those other women offering themselves to him. She’d felt its wrongness. Yet she ignored the thought and shook her head. ‘No, I felt lust. I was…horny, lonely.’

‘I know what you felt,’ Cain interrupted. ‘I’ve read your book, many times and it may have been lust, but it was something else, too.’

Sabra’s colour deepened and her throat dried. ‘You’ve read it…many times?’ she squeaked.

Cain shrugged. ‘I have been lonely without you. For 18 months that book was the closest I could get.’

He held her gaze.

‘Sexual attraction doesn’t make a prophesied marriage,’ Sabra finally replied when she found her tongue.

The Warlord swallowed, she watched his throat contract, and he ignored her. ‘Why were the mafia trying to steal your eggs?’ he asked again. ‘Why were the government going to do the same?’ he asked softly. ‘I need to know what exactly I’m up against.’

‘Like you don’t know!’ Sabra scoffed. ‘You’re all liars. At least Mags and Faustus were honest with me, didn’t leave me with any doubt of their plans. You! You’re trying to fill my head with all this love babble — it makes you worse than them!’

The Warlord’s handsome face constricted with hurt. ‘No,’ he said softly. ‘No.’

‘Then tell me exactly why you never said anything about this prophecy until
now —
when the mafia and government are fighting each other to get my eggs. Answer this question well, and I’ll tell you what I know.’

Cain looked momentarily shifty. ‘I regret not telling you about the prophecy, but I had my reasons.’

‘What damn reasons? I probably won’t believe them, but I’d like to hear them.’

His face darkened, with what she could only suppose was embarrassment.

‘I told you, I grew up in the shadow of this prophecy. Every woman I ever met, people would ask,
is she the one?
I grew up under a microscope. The Laotian people and their government all believe in the prophecy, and the government will not allow it to come into fruition. They hunt women in connection with me. If the prophecy occurs, the government knows they are in for trouble.’

‘Okay, I get that — you’re trying to keep your women away from the government because of the prophecy — but why keep it a secret from
me
, especially if you thought I was the one?’

Cain’s hesitation said more than his actual words. ‘My ex-girlfriends all said they loved me. At first I’d believe them, but then…’ He sighed. ‘I grew to understand that their love was all about being part of the prophecy. It was all about gaining fame. They didn’t love
me.
They loved what I was about, they loved the Warlord of Laos.’ He paused and rubbed his chin. ‘I wanted you to fall in love with me naturally.’ He laughed bitterly. ‘Without knowing about the damn prophecy. I wanted…’ he took a deep breath. ‘I wanted you to love me, just me.’ He laughed again and even to Sabra’s shocked ears, it sounded unhappy. ‘I did what I could to try and make you fall for me, the way I had fallen for you — but I couldn’t. Everything went wrong. Then you ran, Sabra, and you wrote that book, a book that told the
world
about my affection for you. Although it didn’t mention the prophecy it alerted Laotian suspicions. After your escape I heard word that Laotian Government assassins were already tailing you. That was bad, but imagine how bad it would have been if you
had
mentioned the prophecy. You were just lucky the Australian Government kept such a damn close eye on you, or you’d be dead already.’

The cold feeling in her belly grew icy.

He gave the bitter laugh again. ‘I didn’t give up on you, Sabra, even after you ran. When I read your book, I
knew
you cared about me. I started looking into ways of getting to you. I was angry at you for a while. I don’t deny it — but I didn’t even get a chance to speak to you. The phone lines were tapped, and you were watched 24 hours a day — but I couldn’t begrudge it, because although it kept me away from you, it also kept you safe.’

Confusion whirled around her mind.

Cain continued savagely, ‘But for all this, Sabra, I still have no fucking idea why the government and mafia would want your eggs.’

It was too much. Her head hurt.

‘Answer me, Sabra.’ His tone was gentle and coercing.

‘I can’t believe you actually don’t know.’ She whispered, ‘I’m…I’m…the product of a failed Australian Government breeding program.’

‘What the fuck?’ was all he could say.

Sabra repeated herself slowly.

‘Just when you thought the government couldn’t possibly go lower…’ he groaned, but allowed Sabra to continue.

As she spoke, her voice took on an almost lyrical note. An autumnal breeze fluttered through the window and circled around them. She spoke of her childhood in foster care, all she knew about the failed breeding program, and the discussions she’d had with Mags and Faustus.

He watched her lips move but soon he couldn’t hear the words. He’d been foolish and remiss in his treatment of her.

I never asked her about her childhood. I never asked about her parents
.

When he’d read her book, he’d been startled by Sabra’s accusation that in his compound, he rarely spoke to her. In fact, he’d raged about it to Jürgen, and complained of his own ill-treatment. After all, he’d given her everything she could have desired; he’d cared for her, given her more pleasure than any woman could want, and yet…

I have been unfair
, he realised.

***

Sabra fell silent and shuffled on the bed, her throat was croaky from speaking too much and she felt worn out. Cain threw her a gentle smile and reached over and took her hand.

Heat leapt from the point of contact.

‘Can you honestly tell me you didn’t know anything about me and where I’m from?’ Sabra asked. ‘That you didn’t kidnap me just to get my eggs because of my Sentience Activated Body Reaction Armour?’

‘No, I had no idea.’ His tone was firm. ‘I saw a nervous tourist with Maggie South in that bar — I believed you were in peril — then you blushed like a rainbow. Call it
misplaced hero syndrome
, or whatever you want, but I never, ever considered stealing your genetics.’

Sabra inhaled heavily. She wasn’t sure whether to believe him or not, about the eggs, the other women, or his reasons for not telling her about the prophecy — but she was tired of talking.

‘Are you hungry?’ Cain asked, as if reading her thoughts. ‘We could go out to a restaurant, or something.’

Restaurant?

‘I’m starving,’ Sabra began, then stopped and stared at the TV screen. ‘But hasn’t your face been plastered over Crime Stoppers? Do you think it’s a good idea?’ Sabra asked.

Cain smiled ruefully. ‘Unfortunately, I didn’t have much time for an elaborate disguise when I found you in the hospital,’ he said. ‘Plus, I did not think about CCTV when I came so gallantly to your rescue.’

‘Gallantly to my rescue — hero syndrome again?’ Sabra repeated with a slight smile.

‘Must be.’ He shrugged sexily.

‘I guess we shouldn’t go to a restaurant — it’s not safe is it?’

Cain smiled and as she watched the scent of his magic surrounded her. She watched and his nose grew in length. It was like time-lapse photography, only even more bizarre. His eyes shifted from dark brown to hazel green, his hair, so lustrous and black, shimmered under his spell and shifted to a deep chocolate. She breathed in, and watched sexy stubble sprout on his jaw and face.

‘We can still go,’ he assured her, ‘it will just have to be
incognito
.’

‘Wow,’ Sabra breathed. ‘You look…’

‘Look what?’ he asked, raising an artful eyebrow over his new sparkling hazel eyes.

‘Well, not like you,’ she mumbled, feeling colour stain the chromatophores on her cheeks.

He shrugged with a smile. ‘Would you like a quick extreme makeover, too?’

Sabra laughed. ‘I can do that on my own.’ Without another thought she concentrated on the chromatophore cells and shifted her olive skin to a deeper brown, and her hair to black. She left her eyes grey.

‘How do I look?’ she asked shyly.

‘Not like you, but lovely all the same.’ She felt his breath brush against her cheek as he spoke and quickly leant over to kiss her.

He pressed his lips to hers with a quick possessive gesture that made her limbs tremble.

The confusion she felt was almost overwhelming.

As he pulled away, his eyes held hers in his new strange hazel gaze. There was a gentle buzzing in her ear and her attention was drawn to two large blowflies that hovered around them.

She shooed them away with a wave of her hand, despite Cain’s alarmed look. ‘Go away!’ she blew at them. ‘I’ve just had a shower, I can’t smell that bad!’

‘Sabra!’ Cain began to laugh despite his alarm. ‘Stop, they’re not flies.’

Sabra heard an outraged whistle from one of the large blowflies.

Blowflies don’t whistle.
She hesitated in her swatting and squinted to get a better look.

Hovering before her, with its hands on its waspish waist was a creature she’d never even imagined existed. The head was human-like, but it had six legs, and a strange non-insect-like torso.

‘What is it?’

There was another outraged whistle.

‘Umm, I mean, what are you?’ she asked it, leaning closer and speaking softly so as not to upset it any further than she already had.

‘That’s Peony, she’s a thriae, she doesn’t speak our language. This here,’ he gestured to Hexa who hovered nearby with an angry buzz, ‘is Hexa.’

‘Thriae?’ Sabra asked. ‘And they are?’

‘They are of Greek origin, and have great prophetic powers. Hexa and Peony have come to help me find you.’

‘Oh.’ She squinted and looked closer. ‘Well, thank you.’

‘You’re welcome,’ came a tiny whistling voice from Hexa. The thriae flew up and hovered beside Peony. ‘We have overheard your discussion with the Warlord. He is a good man, Sabra Westwood. Do not judge him by what you believe his intentions to be. Judge him by his actions.’

Sabra nodded slowly. ‘Was it the thriae who created the prophecy?’ she asked.

Hexa’s small head nodded. ‘Yes, our prophesies are never wrong.’