Between Darkness and Light (55 page)

“My daughter is one. I miss her,” he said.

“I'm sure you must. What's she called?”

“Kashini,” he said. He didn't want to talk about his life back home. “Have you any children?” he asked, checking mentally to see where the rest of his crew were. Banner and Khadui were playing a board game in their lounge, but no Jayza.

She laughed, her hand tightening round his arm. “No, I'm not interested in breeding yet. Though I think it won't be long before my brother, M'kou, and his mate do.”

“M'kou has a mate?”

“Oh, yes. She's even marked him, you know.”

“Marked him?” He tried not to sound as if he was pouncing on what she'd said. He felt her flare of annoyance as she realized she'd said something she shouldn't.

“Oh, you know,” she said, adopting a slightly vague tone. “A bite on his shoulder. Don't your females do that?” she asked, artlessly.

“No. Sounds painful.” Damn! The opportunity was lost, now. “We prefer to give each other pleasure.”

“So do we,” she said, a gentle hiss of amusement underlying her voice. “No point in coupling if it isn't pleasant, is there?”

He sensed the change in her scent and realized he had to get off that subject quickly. “None,” he said. “I must congratulate M'kou and ask him to introduce me to his mate.”

“That would please him,” she said, stopping and removing her hand from his arm. “He respects you, Captain.”

“He does?” He looked at her in surprise.

She nodded. “He knows you're handling a difficult situation as best as you can. This is my room, by the way,” she said.

“Then I'll wish you good night,” he said, pulling his hands free of his sleeves.

She leaned toward him, reaching out to touch her hand to his cheek. “So soft,” she murmured, stroking him.

He froze, seeing Zayshul heading toward them. He could feel her anger radiating out around her like an aura.

“Captain, I need to talk to you,” she said, coming to a stop beside them as Zhalmo dropped her hand with a sigh.

“Yes?” he asked, keeping his voice neutral.

“Now. In the sick bay,” she said forcefully, waiting for him to move.

Anger surged through him even as her scent began to affect his senses. Dammit, how dare she treat him like some cub caught with his hand in the cookie jar! Putting his hand on Zhalmo's shoulder, he leaned closer till his cheek just brushed hers.

“Shall I tell her we're busy?” he whispered quietly, letting a purr of amusement he didn't feel creep into his voice.

“So tempting,” Zhalmo murmured. “Better not. Ask me again another night, Captain.”

“As you wish. I'll say good night, then,” he said. Then he started walking slowly back toward his quarters, using his Talent to eavesdrop on them when Zayshul remained to talk to her.

“Don't use those scent tricks on him,” Zayshul hissed angrily at the younger female. “You've no right to take advantage of him like that!”

“Why not?” asked Zhalmo, her tone one of sweet reason. “We're both adults and he wasn't objecting, as you saw. Just because you've done nothing in the last two months. . . .”

“Don't even think that!” Zayshul's hiss of anger had risen in pitch. “Any other Sholan, yes, but you will not play games like that with Kusac!”

“He's been seeking my company, Doctor,” Zhalmo replied. “You know I'm free to respond to his advances if I choose to.”

Zayshul uttered a strangled sound and he heard her footsteps, and anger, following him. He increased his pace, reaching his own room before she reached him.

“What do you want, Zayshul?” he asked, feigning indifference as he keyed open his door.

“I told you I want you in the sick bay. Your dressing needs changing.”

“Is that all? It can wait till tomorrow. I did it myself several days ago. I was on my way to bed.”

“So I noticed!” she snapped. “I told you to report to the sick bay now!”

“Don't give me orders, Doctor,” he said angrily, stepping into his room.

She grasped hold of his arm, stopping him. “How can you let her use you like that?” she demanded, her voice low and intense.

“Everyone here's using me. What's one more or less?” he said, disengaging himself. Standing in the doorway, the air current in the corridor was blowing her scent away from him. What was reaching him only served to fuel his anger.

“They've got bets going, did you know that? To see which of you they can seduce first!”

“So when do you collect?” He regretted it the instant it was said and made no effort to stop the slap he saw coming. His head rocked back with the force of it.

“I deserved that,” he said, rubbing his bruised cheek. “Look, we're incapable of rational conversation right now, leave it till . . .” He stopped as she suddenly burst into huge, body-shaking sobs.

Swearing, he grabbed hold of her and hauled her into his room, sealing the door shut, then hitting the privacy lock.

“Gods, Zayshul, stop crying! Someone will hear you,” he said urgently, holding her tightly against his chest in an effort to stifle her sobs. It made no difference, she continued to cry, her hands now clutching frantically at his robe.

Her anger had gone, and in its place, her distress was flooding through his mind, tearing at him as badly as it was her. Her thoughts were so jumbled that nothing made any sense to him. Threats, or warnings about being discovered wouldn't do any good, she was beyond reasoning with.

Reaching for the air conditioner controls, he set the cold air up to full. He had to keep his wits about him right now. Three of his people had rooms opposite his, and two belonged to Banner and Dzaou.

He moved her farther into the lounge, away from the door and closer to the stream of cold air that was issuing from a vent in the ceiling. Bending over her, he began whispering in her ear, talking to her as he would to Kashini or Shaidan.

“Hush, Zayshul. Hush. It's all right.” He began to stroke the back of her head, wondering what else he could do to calm her. He didn't dare use the most effective method, that of directly affecting her mind. He'd purred to soothe Kashini, and he remembered that when Zayshul had dressed his wound the first time, he'd been purring; that had pleased her. It was worth trying—he was getting desperate.

It wasn't easy to force himself to purr under the circumstances, but somehow he managed it.

“Hush,” he said. “Whatever it is, it can't be that bad. Talk to me.”

Lulled by the deep, rhythmic rumble he was making, gradually, her sobs began to subside.

“That's better,” he said gently, resting his head against hers as he stopped purring. “Tell me what's wrong.”

Her scent was sharper, he noticed, slightly less potent, and he knew that for the moment, he could afford to let his mind remain passively open to hers.

“I didn't betray you,” she sobbed. “We were both drugged and used! I have no memory of going to you that night. I lied when I said I had because you wouldn't believe me, but it must have been me because it's the only way my marker could be on you.”

He could feel her absolute belief in what she was saying. She genuinely had no memory of pairing with him on the
Kz'adul
.

“And Shaidan . . . He has my genetic material because the sample Chy'qui took from you . . . it had my scent marker in it!” Her sobs began to increase again.

“Hush, I believe you,” he said automatically, still trying to take in what she'd said, and the extent to which she, too, had been used. “I believe you now, Zayshul.”

She lifted her head to look up at him. “You do?” She blinked owlishly through reddened eyes at him before pulling an arm free to rub it across her face. “Why this time?”

“Because I'd have to be totally mind dead to not feel your distress,” he said, running his thumb across her cheek to remove the last of her tears. “I still have a little mental sensitivity left.”

“When I saw you with Zhalmo, being gentle with her . . .” Tears welled up again, threatening to spill over her cheeks. “And I heard the others talking about you sitting with her nearly every night in the rec . . .”

“Jealous?” he asked in surprise, aware that she had indeed been.

“No! Yes . . .” she admitted, seeing the look on his face.

“I've treated you badly,” he said, forcing himself to let her go and move away from her. “I should have remembered I owe you my life several times over for what you did for me on, and after, the
Kz'adul
. My only defense is that every time I'm near you, your scent robs me of all reason. All I'm left with is an animal need to pair with you.”

“I know. It happens to me, too. Once you start responding to me, I start responding to you, then nothing else matters,” she said, her voice low. “It isn't supposed to be like that! It's supposed to just enhance our attraction for each other, nothing more.” She began to shiver, wrapping her arms across her chest to try and keep warm.

“You're cold. I'll get you a robe,” he said, leaving her to go into the bathing room for his toweling one.

Putting it around her shoulders, he folded her in it, then moved away again before her scent could affect him too much. “So there's no way to turn it off?”

“None. It could spontaneously stop by itself, in time,” she said, clutching the robe gratefully. “I can't even study it. We haven't got equipment sensitive enough even on K'oish'ik to isolate whatever it is that causes this addiction from my scent.”

“Please, sit down,” he said, gesturing awkwardly to one of the easy chairs beside him. “I forget my manners.” Still keeping a reasonable distance between them, he sat down on the edge of the sofa, leaning his arms on his knees.

“This is the first rational conversation we've had for some time,” she said. “We need to come to some kind of truce, Kusac. You have to try to stop hating me now you know the truth.”

He looked down at his hands. “It isn't going to be easy,” he said. “You have no idea how your marker has affected my life, Zayshul. Your Emperor contacted my people, telling us that Kezule had left your world and asked us to let him know if we had any word of his whereabouts. Then Kezule's message was intercepted and read by the Brotherhood. I was called in and told to keep the rendezvous and find out why a known enemy of mine wanted to meet me, and what it was he had that I would want.” He looked up at her again. “You can imagine how much of a shock it was for me to be given your message, complete with your and Shaidan's scents on it, in public. Obviously I couldn't tell anyone.”

“Why didn't you tell them about our night on the ship? You could have legitimately said you'd been raped.”

He looked away again. “Because you'd helped me—and I had enjoyed it,” he admitted eventually. “After what I'd been through with J'koshuk, I needed some physical contact that didn't bring pain. It—you—gave me the strength I needed to get through the exchange of hostages the next day.”

“We have to cope with our need for each other, Kusac,” she said after a small silence. “Deal with it so it doesn't get out of hand the way it has done so far.”

“I know. How long can we keep it from Kezule?”

She shrugged. “He has his other females. Marriage to him is only for breeding; he told me so. He doesn't see me as belonging to him. He calls you my Sholan, you know. Leave that worry to me, I can handle him.”

“I'd prefer him not to know. He has enough leverage over me already.”

“I can understand that.”

The door chime rang, making them both jump. He began to swear. “It's Dzaou,” he said. “He's checking to make sure I'm here and not with Zhalmo.”

“Why should he do that?” she asked, obviously confused and worried.

“It's a long story,” he muttered, getting up. “The bathing room's through there. Lock yourself in—both doors—while I deal with him.”

When she'd hidden herself, he quickly stripped off his robe and flung it over the back of the chair she'd been using, and headed for the door, remembering to shut off the air conditioner before opening it.

“What is it, Dzaou?” he asked, standing so that the other, seemingly inadvertently, had a good view of his empty lounge. “I was about to shower.”

“My punishment detail finished today, Captain. I just wanted to know what your orders were for me for tomorrow,” Dzaou said, sketching a brief salute.

“And you couldn't have asked me that in the rec?” He raised an eye ridge. “You report to Banner first thing with the others. He'll give you your orders.”

“Yes, Captain.” The older male turned away then stopped. “Are we information gathering now? I noticed you were getting close to one of Kezule's daughters.”

“We're here for another two to three months, Dzaou. I want you to do what the rest of us are doing—socialize! In Vartra's name, try and lose some of your damned prejudices. And that's an order!”

“You can't . . .”

“I just have,” he snarled, hitting the door close control and locking it. He leaned against it, shaking with anger and reaction. He was getting to the point where it was going to cause him less grief to mentally adjust the damned male!

His blood instantly ran cold at the thought. To do that would be to break one of the main tenets of the Telepath Guild. Only a properly appointed Court Telepath could do that as the result of a judicial sentence. For him to do it was a criminal offense, punishable by his own mental readjustment, or worse, the destruction of his Talent by the Telepath Guild. Only he was no longer in that Guild, he was of the En'Shalla Brotherhood, answerable only to Father Lijou and Vartra Himself—and he'd already adjusted the memories of both Dzaou and Banner.