Cursed: Brides of the Kindred 13 (24 page)

“What are we required to do?” Stav asked, looking up at their councilors.

“You will not have to do anything—not yet, anyway,” Nar’sa told him. “It is Charlotte who must act.”

“Why me?” Charlotte protested, sounding almost panicked. “Why am I first again? Isn’t it
his
turn?”

“The cleansing pool gave the implement to
you
, Charlotte,” Nar’sa said gently. “That indicates that
you
have the most anger and mistrust to work out. It’s not surprising really, considering your history.”

“Nar’sa!” Ta’no sounded shocked. “How dare you speak of the past? You know very well that we live in the present here and seek towards the future. We
never
discuss past regrets.”

“I did not mention any actual
events
from her past,” his mate protested. “I simply meant—”

“I know what you meant but one of the Joined Ones would not be so understanding—
or
so forgiving.” Ta’no went to her and took one of her long fingered, translucent hands in his. “Be cautious, beloved. I would not see you punished.”

“Wow, they’re really strict about the no-past rule, huh?” Charlotte murmured as the two
Hossans
nuzzled each other.

Stav turned his head and gave her a small nod. “Apparently. Charlotte…” He cleared his throat, uncertain how to go on. “I am aware of how you feel about this. The…boundaries you wished to preserve…”

“I’ll be fine.” She lifted her chin. “Don’t worry about me.”

“I do not wish you to be uncomfortable,” Stav protested.

She gave a short, bark of a laugh.

“Too late for that, big guy. Listen, don’t worry, Whatever it is, I’ll get through it.”

“
We’ll
get through it,” Stavros corrected her gently.

Charlotte didn’t look convinced. “Yeah, sure. Whatever.” She shrugged and then looked at their councilors. “Hey, you two—either let’s get this over with or let us go to our rooms and sleep. It’s been a long-ass day and I’m tired.”

“Forgive us.” Nar’sa and Ta’no—who had been petting each other’s hair again—pulled reluctantly apart. “We are so very in love it is difficult to—”

“Yeah, yeah, we know—you go together like peanut butter and jelly and you just can’t get enough of each other,” Charlotte said sarcastically. “But could you tear yourselves away from your perfect relationship for long enough to get on with the lesson, please?”

“Of course,” Ta’no said stiffly. “It was never our intention to leave you without instruction.”

“Okay, whatever. What am I supposed to do next?” Charlotte raised an eyebrow at him.

“You must use the implement the cleansing pool gave you on Stavros once more,” Nar’sa instructed.

“Well I
did
that.” Charlotte was beginning to sound exasperated. “If you just wanted me to keep brushing his hair, why did you stop me in the first place?”

“Look at the implement,” Nar’sa said. “It is no longer what it once was.”

“It…what?” Charlotte glanced down at her hand and of course Stavros looked to. To his surprise the hairbrush was no longer a hairbrush. Instead, it had become a small blue bottle with a ruby red stopper.

“What is that?” he asked, frowning. “Open it, Charlotte.”

She did and sniffed bottle uncertainly. “Smells like…lavender? Maybe a little eucalyptus?” She dipped her fingertip in and drew it out shiny. “Oh—it’s massage oil,” she said, rubbing it between her thumb and fingers.

“Exactly.” Nar’sa nodded approvingly.

“So you want me to what…massage him?” Charlotte looked at him doubtfully and Stav tried to return her look with a blank one of his own. There was no doubt the idea of her soft little hands on his body aroused him—just the thought made his fangs ache and his cock hard. Or it would have if he hadn’t been so worried.

“Um…” Charlotte cleared her throat. “Where?”

“His back, of course,” Ta’no said. “The neck, shoulders and back are the areas males carry most of their tension. It is the obvious place to begin.”

“No, it’s not.” Stav got up quickly and took a few steps away. “It’s not the obvious place at all.”

“It most certainly is, Stavros,” Nar’sa said, frowning. “Whatever is wrong with you? Do you object to Charlotte touching your back? There is nothing sexual in such a gesture.”

“I do not object but I am certain Charlotte will.” He kept his voice low and steady but inside he was clenched tight as fist. The ignorant fools—to even
suggest
such a thing! What female in her right mind would want to even
touch
his mark, let alone massage him there?

But to his surprise Charlotte said, “I don’t mind.”

He looked at her in disbelief. It was true she had touched him there—very briefly—once before and she hadn’t shied away from being close to him as she brushed his hair. But this…the idea of a lengthy and lingering touch…of actually
massaging
the area covered by the hated mark… Well, it was wrong. Just
wrong
.

“You cannot mean that.” His voice sounded low and rough, even in his own ears.

“Why not?” Charlotte got off the stool made out of blue thera-mat and came over to him. “Look,” she said under her breath, staring at him. “This is the
easy
way out—don’t you see? Think of all the embarrassing places they
might
have asked me to touch you. And instead they just want me to massage your back. It’s no big deal.”

“It is not right,” Stav growled. “Not right to ask you to touch me there...”

“What, is the back some kind of erogenous zone I don’t know about for your people?” Charlotte demanded.

“Most certainly not. It is…my mark.”

“Your tattoo? Will it burn me if I touch it too long?”

He shook his head. “No, but—”

“And will it hurt you if I touch it?”

“Well, no…”

“Then there’s no harm, no foul. Lay down on your stomach and let’s get this over with.”

Stav still couldn’t quite wrap his head around what she was proposing.

“You are certain you don’t mind?” he had to ask once more.

“Positive.” Charlotte gave him a gentle nudge. “Come on, lay down. The sooner we get started, the sooner we’ll be finished and we can go get some rest.”

“Well…all right, I suppose.”

The words were no sooner out of his mouth than Ta’no and Nar’sa came over.

“You have decided to do as the cleansing pool directs? Good,” Ta’no said. Kneeling down, he patted the mat with one palm, describing a rectangular area about seven feet long and four feet wide. As soon as he finished tracing it, the entire area rose to form a low table. “Get on,” he said to Stav.

Almost before he knew what he was doing, Stavros was lying face down on the spongy, springy table. The thera-mat substance cradled his body and supported him perfectly but he still buried his face in his arms, wanting to block out all sight of what was about to happen.

“Okay, good—here we go,” he heard Charlotte say. “Let me just get this out of the way…”

She must have been bending over him by his head because he felt her soft little fingers carding through his hair again, pulling it to one side.

“I can put it back up into a club again,” he offered, his voice somewhat muffled by the mat.

“No,” Charlotte said quickly. “Don’t do that—I promise not to get oil in it. Leave it down. I…I like it down.”

“All right.” If he had been less tense, the fact that she seemed to like his hair might have intrigued him. As it was, however, he was too tight and miserable to do much more than force himself to lie still.

“Okay, now…” His sensitive ears caught the soft sounds of Charlotte pouring some of the oil into her hand and rubbing it between her palms and he tensed even more. “I guess I should start at the neck, huh?” she murmured. And then her soft little hands were stroking over the nape of his neck and sliding across his shoulders before moving lower to stroke between his shoulder blades.

Thought Stav’s eyes were tightly closed, he could almost see her in his mind’s eye. He pictured her bending over him, stroking the oil over the shifting lines that covered his back. Imagined her caressing the evil bands of black that sealed his fate and marked his doom.

Gods, he couldn’t believe she was really doing this! How could she bring herself to touch his mark—the very thing that proved he was different and made him loathsome to others of his own kind? The bane of his existence. The curving black lines that poisoned his life.

And yet she continued, digging her little fingers into his flesh and rubbing with surprising strength as she tried to ease the tension in his knotted muscles.

“Wow, you’re
really
tight,” she muttered as she worked on his shoulders. “It’s like massaging steel. Are you okay?”

“I am perfectly fine.” Stavros strove to keep his voice even but it came out hoarse and ragged. No one had willingly touched his back in this way—not
ever.
Even his own mother had shied away from it when the mark of the Sin Eater first started showing at the age of six cycles. Yet Charlotte was touching him, gently but firmly, over and over—stroking and massaging as though it didn’t bother her at all. How could she endure it?

A better question might be, how could
he
endure it? Stavros clenched his fists and bit the inside of his cheek until he tasted blood. It felt wrong to let her touch him this way—wrong to put her in contact with the darkest, most awful part of himself. She was polluting herself—making herself unclean by coming in contact with his mark. And yet the massage went on and on—an endless cycle. Charlotte trying to ease the tension in his back while he got more and more miserable and tense.

Finally, to his great relief, Ta’no called for a halt.

“The time allotted for this class is now up. It is time we took you to your rooms.”

“Okay,” he heard Charlotte say. She stopped rubbing him but left one hand resting lightly on his shoulder. To Stavros, that light weight seemed to burn. How could she continue touching him so casually? Shouldn’t she want to pull her hands away and wash them in the hottest water she could find? Not that it would do her any good. He knew from bitter experience that nothing could wash away the stains of the Sin Eater from his skin.

“Come,” Nar’sa said. “Surely the
Wardel
keepers will have your rooms ready now.”

“Okay, whatever that means.” Charlotte patted him on the back again. “C’mon, big guy. Let’s go. I’m tired.”

Stavros wanted to get up but just at the moment he felt paralyzed—his chest swirling with a miserable combination of shame and anger. His hands were clenched into fists, his face still buried in his arms. His entire body felt tight—frozen. It seemed he would never move again.

* * * * *

“Come on,” Charlie said impatiently. “Let’s go—or did you fall asleep on the table?” She had done that a couple of times herself. She didn’t often get massages –she didn’t like the idea of strangers touching her. But it had been required as part of her physical therapy after a work injury a few years back and she had found one masseuse—a nice lady called Eva—who seemed to have just the right touch. Ever since if she had a particularly bad couple of months, she would sometimes treat herself to a half-hour back, neck, and shoulder massage to ease the tension.

She had been trying to use some of the techniques on Stavros that Eva used on her but without much success. It seemed like the more she massaged him, the tighter he got.
Either I’m a really sucky masseuse or he just doesn’t like being massaged,
she thought.

“Stavros?” she asked again. “You okay?”

“I will be fine. I just need a moment.” His voice sounded strange and hoarse.

Suddenly Charlie understood what must have happened. Eva had told her that every once in awhile a male client would get an erection while she was massaging him.
“It’s not their fault—just happens sometimes. They all get so embarrassed so I try not to make a big deal out of it.”

She and Eva had laughed about it at the time but maybe that was what had happened to Stavros. Despite her antipathy towards his kind, she didn’t really want to make the big Kindred feel bad about something he obviously couldn’t help. He had seemed so different as she brushed his hair and rubbed his back. Less intimidating and more…human somehow.

“Hey…” She stroked between his shoulder blades soothingly. “Hey, it’s all right, Stav.” It was the first time she had used his nickname but instead of relaxing him, it seemed to make him even tighter. Indeed, the knots in his back went from steel to stone. Oh, no—somehow she was making it
worse
. She tried again. “Um…look, I know what must have happened and I’m, uh, not upset, really. It’s not a big deal.”