Enslaved (Brides of the Kindred Book 14) (23 page)

“You’ll see.” The blonde mistress giggled and took
another bite. “Just wait, my dear Lady Trin. You’ll see…”

Chapter
Nineteen

“What do you think Lady Needra meant when she said
the
shromp
had interesting effects?” Trin whispered later, after dinner
was over and they were strolling on the rolling back lawn of the vast estate.
They, along with a few other couples, were heading for the dream-sphere
fountain, whatever the hell that was.

“No fucking idea,” Thrace growled. He certainly hadn’t
noticed any strange effects himself—not that he would have noticed anything, as
distracted as he’d been. Even though they were up and walking around, he could
still feel the warm, wet spot whereTrin’s pussy had been pressed against his
shaft.

Gods!
Dinner had been torture—sheer torture. Holding her
so closely and intimately, wanting her so badly and being unable to act on it…

Thrace
thought it wouldn’t have been so bad if Trin
really was as completely disinterested in males as she claimed to be. Then he
could have ignored his own feelings. But despite her repeated assertions that
she wanted nothing to do with him sexually, her body and scent told a different
story.

Havoc, like their Kindred cousins, had an
incredibly sensitive olfactory sense. They could actually smell and identify
pheromones which other species were manipulated by unconsciously. And Gods help
him, Trin was putting out fucking
clouds
of sex pheromones—filling the
air around them with her lust as she sat on his lap and pretended to herself
that she had no interest in sex with a male. In sex with
him.

Not to mention the way her nipples got so hard and
her pussy got so hot and wet when he was pressed against her. If she’d done the
little trick Needra had and raised up—even just a little—he was certain he
might have slipped into her by accident. She was that wet—that ready to go.

Unbidden, the idea of having her under him,
spreading her legs for him, rose in Thrace’s mind. He could imagine her
parting for him, reaching up to scratch his shoulders, to pull him in deeper…

Fucking
stop it!
he told himself angrily.
It
doesn’t matter what kind of chemicals her body is putting out, if her mind
isn’t on board, it’s not going to happen. It’s
never
going to happen. She’s one of the Unpenetrated, remember?

Besides,
why would you want to get involved? You’re just here to do the deal with the
crystals, then you’re gone. Back to The Empress and finding Solar and getting
on with your life. If you made love with Trin now you’d be sure to bond her to
you and
Havoc don’t bond!

He glanced briefly at Trin who was walking beside
him over the short, well trimmed back lawn. It was true that unprotected sex
with her would almost certainly result in bonding. It didn’t always—Havoc were
not nearly as easily bound to a chosen female as their Kindred cousins. Making
love to her and filling her with his seed wouldn’t result in a permanent soul
bond unless there was some deep emotional attachment between them in the first
place.

Watching her lovely face and the determined set of
her slim shoulders, Thrace
knew he couldn’t risk it. It wasn’t just that he desired her—he was beginning
to have feelings for his mistress. Feelings that were completely irrelevant
since she was never going to let herself care for him.

Get
over it,
he told himself roughly.
She’s
never going to change her views on males—she’s a proud female and part of that
pride is her dignity. It would never recover if she broke her beliefs for you.
Anyway, why would you want her to? You don’t want to form a permanent bond with
her any more than she wants one with you. Just do your job and serve her as
best you can until this is over and you can get the fuck out!

Thrace
looked around him at the other mistresses and
slaves walking over the dark lawn, trying to distract his mind from the turmoil
inside him. To his left, Yorth was walking with Lady Needra. The two of them
were holding hands, smiling at each other like lovers, which they surely were.

Thrace
reflected that no matter how hard dinner with Trin
on his lap was, the meal had certainly been more difficult for Yorth. He
couldn’t imagine the self-discipline it took to sit there while his lady
settled herself on his shaft and wiggled her hips, riding him in that
leisurely, casual manner while he wasn’t supposed to move a muscle. Still, it
didn’t seem to bother Yorth—he was probably used to the little game he and his
mistress played together. Thrace
reflected with envy that they would almost certainly be playing other, even
more erotic games in their sleeping chamber later.

“Look, that must be it.” Trin’s soft voice drew his
attention back from the other slave and mistress couple and he looked ahead to
see a tall, silver filigree pyramid structure rising before them. It was set in
the center of a circular, paved area which sparkled—doubtless made of the same semi-precious
gemstones that lined the path which led to the front door of the estate.

“Must be,” he said, nodding assent. “But what the
hell is coming out the top of it?”

The silver pyramid’s point was about the level of Thrace’s
head and it was shaped like a narrow spout or funnel. From this small opening,
large bubbles were drifting. At least, Thrace
assumed
they were
bubbles—they certainly weren’t like any he had ever seen before.

For one thing, weren’t bubbles supposed to be
round? These weren’t. Or at least, not all of them were. In addition to a few
floating spheres, there were also square, rectangular, and triangular bubbles.
There were also a few which didn’t seem to stick to any shape at all but
shifted constantly. But perhaps strangest of all, each and every bubble was
filled with colored smoke. Pink, blue, purple, orange, scarlet, and even black
smoke filled shapes drifted past him, wafted by the gentle breeze.

“What the hell?” Thrace muttered, staring as the
soft shapes drifted from the mouth of the tall silver pyramid.

“Dream spheres—unfiltered dream gas,” Lady Needra
said, in answer to his question. She and Yorth had stopped right at the edge of
the round, gem-encrusted circular path that surrounded the fountain.

“Unfiltered?” Trin asked, frowning. “I thought it
had to be purified with
Jaxite
crystals before it was usable.”

“Oh, that’s just how they do it in Opulex.” Needra
shrugged. “That’s so they can use it for vicarious sensory play—you know,
feeling like your acting out a book or vid or whatever entertainment medium you
want to feel like you’re part of. But dream gas can be filtered through many
different mediums to give different effects.”

“And what effect does unfiltered dream gas have?” Thrace
asked, adroitly avoiding a smoky pink sphere which came drifting in his
direction.

“It’s much more immediate and personal. But as to
what it does, it depends on the vein you get—there are several underground
which all converge at this fountain,” Needra explained. “Come on—try some!”
Leaning forward, she inhaled a triangle shaped bubble filled with sunshine
yellow gas and began giggling hysterically. “G-get one, Y-yorth,” she commanded
her slave, barely able to get the words out.

Yorth sucked in a pink cube and smiled blissfully.
“Mmm, Mistress…” he murmured. “Delicious.”

“My dears, are you enjoying yourselves?” Lady
Tam-tam suddenly appeared beside them with Lord X in tow.

“Lady Trin, it’s so lovely to see you again.” Lord
X bent low over Trin’s hand in a courtly gesture that made the short hairs on
the back of Thrace’s
neck stand on end. He didn’t trust the bastard one bit—there was something
wrong about him, Thrace
just didn’t know what it was yet.

He felt a growl building in his throat and had to
suppress the urge to thrust Trin behind him to keep her safe. Only the fact
that he knew she would hate such a proprietary and possessive act on his part
stopped him.

“It’s… nice to see you too. I—” But before she
could say more, Trin accidentally inhaled a rectangular bubble filled with
white smoke. Thrace
stared at her in alarm as her eyes widened and she froze, her hand still caught
in Lord X’s grip. “You…you’re…” She choked, a small plume of white smoke
curling from her mouth. “I…I can’t…”

“Trin—are you all right?” Thrace yanked her hand away from
the other male and spun her around to face him. Taking her by the shoulders, he
stared into her face anxiously. “What’s wrong? What is it?”

“Thrace…”
For a moment she relaxed and then her eyes got even wider. “Goddess…you don’t
really feel that way, do you?”

“Feel what way? What is she talking about?” Thrace
looked at Lady Tam-tam, demanding an explanation.

“Oh, she simply got a bit of truth gas, that’s
all.” Lady Tam-tam waved airily. “We call it that because it sometimes reveals
someone’s true emotions or intentions. But just as often it’s wrong and only
produces a vivid hallucination. Don’t worry, my dear,” she added to Trin.
“You’ll be over it in a minute.”

Trin blinked and shook her head like a female
coming out of a dream.

“That was…unbelievably odd,” she said in a shaking
voice.

“Well, it’s not what I would pick for my first
dream sphere experience,” Lady Tam-tam said. “In fact, I think it would be
better for you and your love-slave to stick to the scarlet spheres. They’re
much
better.”

“What do they do?” Thrace asked flatly. They were
already in a precarious position—he didn’t want to make it worse by inhaling
some strange gas that impaired his judgment.

“Oh, don’t worry my dear—the effects are
transitory,” Lady Tam-tam said, without answering his question. “Now go on, try
some of the scarlet dream gas. I
insist.”
She nudged Trin gently toward
a triangular bubble passing by which contained swirling scarlet gas.

“I…don’t know.” Trin looked at the bubble with
fearful eyes. Clearly her experience with the white dream gas had made her
leery of trying any other kind. But just as clearly, Lady Tam-tam, who was now
frowning petulantly, was determined that he and Trin try some.

“I’ll do it,” Thrace said roughly. He would try
some gas, he decided, but not exactly the kind Lady Tam-tam insisted on.
Stepping forward, he inhaled a passing green sphere. The bubble popped on his
lips and the smoke drifted into his throat and lungs.

At once a feeling of warm optimism enveloped him.
He felt the same way he did after completing a successful run on
The Empress
—with
his pockets full of credit and the entire universe laid out before him.

“Ahh…” He felt a smile spread across his lips and
couldn’t stop it. “That’s good—try some, Mistress,” he said to Trin. “It’s all
right—they’re not all like the white one.”

“Well…all right.” Trin inhaled a passing yellow
bubble. A silly little smile plastered itself across her full lips and she
clapped a hand to her mouth.

“What?” Thrace asked her. “What is it?”

“I…I can’t explain it. “She began to giggle. “It’s
just…I can’t seem to stop laughing! I feel like I did when I was a little girl
and someone tickled me!”

Her laughter was infectious and Thrace felt himself laughing too,
despite the fact that feeling of warm optimism caused by inhaling the green dream
gas was beginning to fade. Thrace
was glad to feel it go. Though it had been a very positive emotion, he didn’t
want his judgment clouded. Still, the gas didn’t seem to cause any lasting harm
and he was less wary of it than he had been before.

Just then, a cube filled with midnight black gas
drifted past his nose. Without thinking about it, Thrace opened his mouth and inhaled
it. Lady Tam-tam saw him and put out a hand, her face filled with worry.

“Oh no, my dear—you must avoid the black bubbles at
all costs! They are—”

But before she could finish speaking, Thrace
felt himself plunged into darkness.

“Kneel,”
a horribly familiar voice was barking in his ear.
“Kneel
before your Master and suck! And you’d better do a damn fine job or it’s the
hole for you and you won’t see light for a month!”

Rough hands gripped his head and something thick
and hard and hot was shoved past his lips. Thrace gagged, feeling the familiar
shame and hatred envelope him.
I’ll kill him,
he found himself thinking,
his fists clenched in helpless rage.
Kill him for what he’s done to me…

Suddenly another hand was on him, a small, soft
palm was cupping his cheek.

“Thrace?”
a worried voice asked—Trin’s voice. All at once, he felt her in his mind,
sharing the awful memory or maybe just catching a glimpse of it. “My Goddess,”
she breathed. “What’s happening? Why is he…what are you…?”

“Stop!” Thrace jerked away from her,
unwilling to let her see his shame. He fell to his knees, coughing harshly,
expelling the last of the midnight black gas from his lungs and body, willing
the vision of his own private season in Hell to fade.

“What is it? What happened to him?” Trin was down
on her knees beside him, her dark eyes filled with anxiety. She looked up at
Lady Tam-tam. “What’s wrong with him?”