Alien-Under-Cover (30 page)

“Zurian, you were willing to care for me for the rest of my life if I was brain damaged after the operation. I know you have a good reason for this.”

“I have the madness of our people in my blood.” His speech deteriorated until he sounded like a foreigner again.

“What do you mean you have madness in your blood?”

Moving her gently aside, he got up. “Thousands of centuries ago, our race was close to extinction. Zyrgins related to each other came together.” He still didn’t look away from the probe. “Every few hundred generations, a sickness of the mind occurs in some families. My family has fallen victim to that illness many times. My father--”

He took a step away, as if he wanted to walk away from the memory of his father. It was the most uncoordinated move she’d ever seen him make.

“Did he have this sickness of the mind?”

“Yes.”

“And you’re afraid you have the madness in your genes?”

“Yes.”

“So that’s why you don’t want children. You don’t want to pass on the madness.” He heart ached for him. This explained his fear of hurting her. The almost pathological self-control he maintained.

“The evil have to stop with me.”

“What was it like growing up in Zyrgin?”

He paced back to her. “You don’t want to know about growing up in Zyrgin. You want to know who the crazy warrior is you belong to.”

She thought his lip sneered around the word warrior. Obviously she hadn’t been as subtle as she thought. “Please make me understand.”

“In Zyrgin, the warrior class are what you would call nobility.”

“How many class systems do you have?”

“We call them orders and there are six.”

“Are the warriors nobility because they protect your planet?”

From the little he and Natalie had told her, she knew their civilization was millions of years old. And yet their actions sometimes seemed so primitive to her.

“Yes and because they can be chosen to conquer new worlds and bring wealth to Zyrgin. They are bigger and stronger than the average Zyrgin and heal at an amazing rate.” He touched his cheek. “And they don’t scar.”

“But you are a warrior, why do you have scars? Was it done to you when you were very little?”

“I was not born a warrior.”

That would explain why he sometimes talked about warriors as if he wasn’t one of them. When he didn’t speak, she went closer and put her hand on his arm.

“Tell me about it. How did you end up a warrior?”

“Many centuries ago, before we traveled to other planets, our numbers dwindled.” He turned and faced the window. “For a brief time, Zyrgins bred with family members. This was against our laws. These are the families prone to the madness. My family has been cursed with the sickness of the mind for centuries.”

“What are the symptoms of this sickness of the mind?” She remembered his comments about madness when they were captured.

“They became crazed, violent, killing everyone in sight.”

“The little I know of your culture, I’m surprised they didn’t wipe out your whole family for having the gene.”

“We work with the weapons. Creating swords for the warriors. All my ancestors were exceptional sword makers.”

That explained a lot. She’d watched him care for his sword and never tired of seeing it appear and disappear. She’d get her hands on it one of these days and figure out how he did that. “And swords are one of the most important things for you Zyrgins.”

He produced his sword with that grandiose gesture that made it appear as if the sword sprang from nowhere.

“How do you do that?” She touched the intricate artwork on the blade with her forefinger.

“Zyrgin genius.”

She traced the beautiful design engraved into the blade. “Did your father make this for you?”

“No.”

She looked at him, into his dark eyes. Red ribbons bled into the black only to dissolve and disappear. “Did you make it?”

“Yes.”

“Your father hurt you, didn’t he?” She knew something must have happened. His reaction was not that of a man with clinical knowledge of having an illness. Sometime in his life, he’d been confronted with the worst manifestation of what he called the sickness of the mind.

“He had the sickness.”

Julia could almost physically feel her heart break. What a terrible thing for a young child to have to know. “What did he do?”

“We hadn’t had an occurrence in our bloodline in centuries. The doctors had stopped monitoring him.” He paced away from her, squared his shoulders, and faced her. “Once, every one hundred years, a ceremony is held on Zyrgin at the palace.”

“It sounds impressive.”

“Zyrgins from all orders come to fight in battles in front of the leader.”

“Why? Does he reward them, allow them to marry his daughter or something?”

“He chooses one warrior from the fighters who he accepts into the warrior class.”

“How can that be? You said warriors were born stronger than the average Zyrgin.”

He lifted his arm, looked down at the scars showing beneath the sleeve of his uniform. “No one knows how our leader makes the warrior he chooses into a true warrior but their little ones are born warriors.”

“Does that mean accelerated healing and that they don’t scar?”

“Yes.”

“But you are considered a warrior. So that is how you people have a warrior cast. The leader creates warriors whose children are true warriors that don’t scar. Except you don’t want children because of the illness in your family.”

“Yes.”

“Did you enter this tournament and win? Is that how you became a warrior?”

He clenched his hands and stared at a spot above her head. “No.”

Julia took his fist in her hands and kissed it. “Please tell me.”

His hand tightened until she thought his claws would pierce the skin of his palm.

“My father trained me from when I was born. I held my first sword before my first change.”

“First change?”

“We do not grow like humans. We go through three changes.”

“How long does it take you to go through all three changes?”

“About five years, sometimes less.”

“I see. You were telling me your father trained you to enter the tournament.”

“He trained me to enter ‘the tournament,’ as you call it. To get me close enough to the leader to kill him.”

“That’s crazy.”

“Exactly.”

His childhood must have been a nightmare. “How did he expect you to kill an emperor surrounded by security?”

“Crazy, remember?”

Her heart ached for him as a little boy. Trained by a mad father to try and commit a crime that would have branded him a traitor and gotten him killed. They valued honor so much, it must have devastated him. “So how old were you when this tournament took place?”

“I had gone through two changes and was about to go through my third.”

“Could you enter the tournament with only two changes?”

“No, going through your third change was a requirement to enter.”

“Oh. So what happened?”

“I refused to kill our leader.”

“What did your father do?” She kept her voice calm, didn’t show the horror she felt. He would clam up and she wanted to know everything about him. Understand him.

He touched his cheek. “It enraged him that I had not gone through the third change before the tournament.”

“Did he hurt you?” Strange how she’d naively thought Zyrgins didn’t hurt each other. She’d had this picture of an ordered emotionless society.

He looked at her hands, clenching his fists. “Sometimes a change can be made to happen earlier.” He used his neutral voice again.

“How?”

“If a warrior is wounded, it can happen.”

She didn’t like where this was going. At all. “You weren’t born a warrior. Would a wound induce a change?”

“Pain can cause it to happen to Zyrgins from all the orders.”

Her stomach jerked. “How much pain?”

“Much pain over a long period.” He touched the scar on his cheek again. She doubted he was even aware he made the betraying gesture.

“That monster hurt you. What did he do?”

“He tried to beat strength into me.”

She gripped his hands until her nails hurt. “I’ll kill him. I’ll find him and cut off his sadistic head.”

He bared his teeth at her and it was a good thing she froze instead of jumping away from him because she realized it was his version of a smile.

“You are a loyal breeder, but he is dead.”

She could discern no emotion from him about that. “What happened?”

“I had to tell Zacar what he planned. He stopped my father and made sure I was accepted as one of his warriors.”

“How did you know Zacar? Wasn’t he a prince?”

“He came regularly to our place to buy weapons and he always talked to me. He urged me to join the tournament if I went through the third change before it started.”

“Did he kill your father?”

“I killed my father.” He stood to attention again, almost as if awaiting her judgment.

“That must have been difficult.” No doubt there was much more to the story, but she didn’t have the heart to ask.

“I was a traitor no matter what I did.”

“You did the right thing.”

He came to her, touched her hair. “I thought the leader would kill me, but instead he swore the blood oath with me that made me a warrior.”

Julia leaned into his touch. “And Zacar chose you as his second in command.”

“Many wanted me dead or neutered. Zacar insisted that I join him after I had gone through training and a first assignment.”

“So that’s why you don’t want children. You’re afraid you’d harm them.”

“I cannot allow this tainted blood to be passed on to anyone else.”

“You’re afraid if you have children, one of your descendants would turn out like your father.”

“It is not fear but a certainty.”

“I can understand why you feel like that. Are you sure your children would have the gene?”

“We do not have illnesses like humans do. Our doctors are geneticists. Our strong bodies are the result of centuries of genetic manipulation. They have not been able to rid us of the madness of the mind.”

There were so many children in need of a home. She got up and he steadied her when she stumbled. “Would you consider adopting?”

“What is this adopting?”

She walked up and down to get rid of the pins and needles in her feet. “When a couple can’t have children of their own, they adopt children who do not have parents.”

The air changed, became sinister. His eyes locked on her and he stalked her, scared her, moved her back against the wall. His eyes glowed red and, with his fists balled and his lips pulled back from his incisors, he looked like a madman.

Chapter 25

“You would bring another warrior’s blood into my home.”

It was not a question. Not even a threat. It was a promise of murder. His voice, even the way he leaned into her, were different. She looked up into the eyes of a crazy man. His hand closed around her neck.

He leaned down even more until she felt his lips move against her ear. “Do you have any idea what Zyrgins do to strange blood in their dwellings?”

“I sense I don’t really want to.”

He nipped her ear and this time it was not a caress. “I’d slaughter it. I’d slaughter it and throw it off a cliff.”

“I would never allow you to harm a child. Never.” Julia pushed at his hand around her throat. He didn’t hurt her but the threat was clear. “Let me go and go away. I can’t look at you now.”

“You do not bring strange blood into this dwelling.”

What did he think? She would run out, grab a baby, and bring it back here while his back was turned?

“I would never do that if we didn’t both agree to it. And I am fast rethinking any wish to raise children with you.”

“You never bring a male human’s blood into my dwelling.”

“So now it’s yours and not ours.”

He stepped back from her but still looked at her the way a predator would look at a wounded gazelle. She felt wetness over her ear and touched it.

She stared at the blood on her finger. “You bit me,” she whispered.

She could understand his stance on adopting. If it was against everything he’d been taught to believe, he wouldn’t be open to it. But to threaten her physically? She put her hands on her hips, not caring if her bloody fingers smeared her pants. Bite her? Oh, no, this fight was not done with.

“It will not happen again,” he said tonelessly and walked to the door with unaccustomed slowness.

She ran to the door and slapped her hand over the panel. “Don’t you walk away from me when I’m fighting with you,” she yelled.

He stopped and turned, his eyes narrowed. Julia didn’t know if it meant he was surprised or angry. And she didn’t care what his stupid Zyrgin expression meant.

He towered over her in a way that would have intimidated all but a furious Benzoni.

“You don’t threaten me and you definitely don’t bite me and draw blood and then just walk off to do your little warrior things.”

He stiffened and she bared her teeth at him in that threatening Zyrgin smile she’d seen him use.

He stilled and cocked his head, his stance relaxed slightly. “I did not mean to bleed you.”

“Oh, no, you don’t. I’m not done being mad at you.”

He leaned down. “You may bite me if you wish.”

“This is serious and you need to talk to me, listen to me.” She shook her head. “I feel like several chocolates now.”

He became focused, watching her as if he expected her to explode or something. “I will listen.”

“Right this moment, I can’t face your views on adoption. So let’s agree that I’m not about to bring a child into this house.”

“I agree,” he said with suspicious haste.

“So you want me to bite you, huh?”

“No, my skin would break your teeth.”

“True and you might not lov--uh--I mean want me if I lose them.”

“I would want you if you lost all your teeth.”

She touched the scarf she’d tied over her head. “Even without hair.” How could the same man who drove her insane with anger, and sometimes scared her, be so sweet?

“Yes.”

He picked her up, laid her down on the bed, pulled off her scarf, and stroked a forefinger over her bald head. Julia shivered. It was a curiously intimate experience, as if he stroked a forbidden area on her body. “Does it hurt?”