Enslaved (Brides of the Kindred Book 14) (50 page)

He
turned back towards the entrance of the inner sanctum, ready to push past
Trin’s mother—to knock her aside if he had to. Though he abhorred violence
towards females, he wouldn’t let her stop him from taking Trin, wouldn’t let
her keep them in this hell hole one more minute.

But
Trin’s mother stepped quietly aside as they passed. Thrace saw Trin look up at the
older woman.

“Mother…”
she whispered but her mother only shook her head and looked away.

“Do
not call me that anymore. I have no daughter now.”

“Mother,
please…” Trin struggled to get out of his arms but Thrace wasn’t taking a chance on
her changing her mind and staying for more torture. Between her mother and that
bitch of a high priestess, she’d had her mind fucked with enough for one day.
Hell, for an entire lifetime.

“Come
on, Mistress,” he said, striding forward. “It’s time we were going now. Past
time, actually.”

“Wait!”
Trin begged but Thrace
wasn’t waiting anymore—not for anything or anyone. He carried her out of the
sanctum, out of the temple, and into the fresh air and sunshine.

Parked
across from the temple in a grassy spot, was the Kindred shuttle. Thrace
carried the struggling, crying Trin towards it. Becca and Charlie followed,
still keeping a firm grip on their destroyers.

“Wait,”
Trin begged again. “My mother…”

“Has
some very fucked up ideas,” Thrace
growled. “And it’s not going to do you any good to listen to any more of them.”

Trin
subsided in his arms, sobbing. Thrace’s
heart ached for her and he held her tight, wishing he could ease her pain.

“She
cursed me,” she whispered at last. “She laid a blood curse on me, Thrace.”

“I
know, baby,” he murmured into her ragged hair. “I know and I’m so sorry. But a
curse is just words—you don’t have to believe it.”

“Just
words,” she whispered but she didn’t sound sure of what she was saying at all.

He
held her close.
“It’s all right, baby,”
he
sent through their link.
Everything is
going to be all right now.”

Or
he tried to send it, anyway. He’d heard the others talking about how the walls
of the temple blocked their mental communication and he’d been hoping that once
he got Trin outside those tall stone walls, her mind would open to him again
and thoughts could flow between them through their bond.

But
even now, though they were finally away from the temple of the Goddess of
Judgment, the mental block Trin had put up against him and the bond they shared
held strong. Even now he couldn’t reach her.

Looking
at her ravaged and tear stained face, Thrace wondered if he ever would.

Chapter
Thirty-seven

“Put
me down,” Trin said, the moment they entered the shuttle. Thrace had taken her straight back
to the far end of the craft, presumably so they could have some privacy.

But
Trin didn’t want to talk to him—or to anyone. She just wanted to close her eyes
and die. The look on her mother’s face kept replaying over and over in her
head.
“I have no daughter now,”
she’d
said and Trin believed her. She had been wiped from the records by the blood
curse and her own sins. She was nothing anymore—and she didn’t deserve to be
held in the arms of the male she loved. The male who would surely die with her
if she allowed the blood curse to drag him down as well.

“I’d
rather hold you,” Thrace
rumbled. He passed a hand gently over her shorn hair. “Want to keep you close,
baby.”

“I
told you before, I’m not your ‘baby.’” Trin struggled out of his arms and turned
her face to the window, looking out and away, refusing to meet his questioning
gaze.

“All
right. Well, at least let me get a med aid kit and treat your wounds.” He was
already busy with some kind of medicine but Trin pushed his hands away.

“I
don’t need that.”

“Yes,
you do,” he argued. “You need help—they hurt you in there, Trin. You need to
let me help you.”

“I
don’t need anything from you.” From the corner of her eye she saw the flash of
hurt on his face but she had gone too far now to stop. She had the blood curse
on her—she had to push him away for his own good. “In fact….” She took a deep
breath. “In fact when we get where we’re going I think…I think it’s better if
we spend some time apart.”

“Time
apart?” His deep voice sounded hoarse and strange. “Don’t you think we spent
enough time apart while you were in that fucking house of horrors your people
call a temple?”

“I
don’t have any people now.” Trin looked down at her hands. “Didn’t you hear my
mother? I don’t have anyone.”

“You
have me, Mistress.” His voice was soft and sad now. “You’ll always have me. If
you want me.”

Trin
looked right at him and said the worst thing she could.

“I
don’t,” she whispered, staring into his eyes. “I…I don’t want you anymore.”
Because I don’t deserve you. Because I don’t
want to drag you down with me when I go—when the curse takes hold.
But she
couldn’t say it out loud—it hurt too much. Hurt almost as much as the pain in Thrace’s eyes—the
pain she had put there—when he nodded his head.

“Very
well. When we get to the Mother Ship, I’ll ask that they house us separately.”

“Thank
you.” Trin turned back to the shuttle window, her heart sore and aching. But
she knew she had done the right thing. A blood curse by the high priestess was
impossible to break—a sentence of death. Trin only hoped that the bond between
herself and the big Havoc had been weakened enough by the barrier she had
somehow put between them to keep him safe. She didn’t want him to die with her
when the curse went into full effect—didn’t want him to sacrifice his life for
hers when her life no longer held any value.

* * * * *

“I’m
telling you, she just wants to lie on the couch all day and sleep!” Becca paced
the floor of their suite, her bare feet whispering on the thick carpet. “At
first we thought it was normal—I mean, she’s like a cult survivor, getting out
of that awful place after all the terrible things they did to her. So of course
she needed rest. But it’s been weeks now and all she wants to
do
is rest. It’s not
right.”

“It
sounds most distressing, Rebecca. We know how much you have come to care for
the Zetta female,” Truth said gravely. He and Far were sitting on the large,
three person couch they shared and watching her with worried expressions on
their faces as she paced.

“I
do
care. I know how debilitating
guilt can be and they laid a crazy amount of it on Trin in that temple. But she
doesn’t want to talk to anyone about it—not even Charlie or me.”

Becca
sighed and reflected wryly that this was probably the most upset her men had
seen her since they all bonded and settled down to live happily ever after. But
she couldn’t help it. She felt for Trin as deeply as Charlie did. In fact, the
two of them had been visiting their new friend every day for two weeks, trying
to bring her out of the funk she seemed to have fallen into. But no matter what
they did or said, Trin barely replied. Becca would have thought their friend
had clinical depression but it seemed to go even deeper than that—she was
nearly catatonic at times which worried Becca deeply.

“There’s
got
to be a way we can help her!” she
went on, still pacing. “She won’t eat, she won’t take a bath, she doesn’t want
to read or watch movies or do anything at all…she just wants to lie on that
damn couch and sleep her life away.”

“And
she won’t see Thrace?”
Truth asked, frowning.

Becca
shook her head. “She won’t have anything to do with him.”

“What
about their bond? Can he reach her that way?” Far asked.

“Charlie
said he told Stavros that she’s blocking him.” Becca sighed and shook her head.
There must be
something
we can do or
someone
she can talk to. The Goddess
wouldn’t have sent us to get her just to watch her waste away. Would she?”

“I
do not believe she would, Rebecca,” Truth said gravely. “I agree—there must be
a way to help. But how?”

“That’s
what I’ve been asking myself for days now!” Becca wanted to stamp her foot in
frustration. “I tell you, ever since that awful high priestess put that curse
on her she’s not the same girl! I mean, I know I wasn’t the one having visions
of her but Charlie described what she saw and—”

“Wait
a minute.” Far held up a hand to stop her. “You say the priestess put a
curse
on her?”

“Well,
yes—just as we were leaving the temple. Why?”

“What
kind
of a curse?” Far frowned. “Try
to remember, Becca—this could be very important.”

“Remember?
I don’t think I could ever
forget.
It
was a blood curse. She cut her arm and bled into a bowl and said all these
terrible things…it was awful.” Becca shivered, remembering the gruesome sight.
At the time she’d thought the priestess was just being melodramatic but from
the way Far was looking at her, she began to wonder if the curse was more than
just theatrics.

The
light twin was already tapping away at his hand-held device, searching no
doubt, for something in his extensive research file.

“If
I remember correctly a blood curse is very serious,” he said frowning. “Ah yes—here
it is. The curse is said to feed on the cursed one’s soul until their will to
live is completely gone and…”

“And
what?” Becca could feel her heart beating in her throat.

Far
looked up, his face stricken.

“And
she dies. Becca, I’m so sorry. The blood curse is a death curse. And it’s
always fatal.”

“No—no
I don’t accept that.” Becca stopped pacing. “There must be
some
cure—
someone
she
could see.”

“You
could start by having Commander Sylvan look at her,” Truth rumbled. “Didn’t you
say she’d refused medical help before?”

“Yes,
and Charlie and I let her!” Becca groaned. “What idiots we are! We thought she
needed time to heal but she’s not healing on her own.”

“Now
we know why,” Far said quietly. “This curse is no laughing matter.”

“Call
Charlie and go to your friend now, together,” Truth recommended.

“We’ll
call Commander Sylvan and ask him to meet you at Trin’s suite,” Far added,
finishing his brother’s thought. “If anyone can help her, he may be able to.”

“All
right.” Becca was already reaching for the thin silver wire of the think-me.
“I’m calling her. We’ve sat around for too long—we have to do something about
this
now.”

* * * * *

“You
have to take care of yourself,” Becca said earnestly. “You need to see a
doctor.”

“I
don’t want to.” Trin closed her eyes, trying to block her new friends out. Why
couldn’t they just leave her alone and let her go? Let her die as the priestess
has foretold?

“We
know about the curse,” Charlie said bluntly. “And we know what it’s doing to
you.”

“Then
you know why I don’t wish to see a doctor.” Trin sighed. “There’s no doctor
here or anyplace in the universe who can help me.”

“We
disagree,” Becca said.

“That
is your right.” Trin closed her eyes. “Do what you want—I don’t care.”

“Well
maybe you need to
start
caring!”
Charlie’s voice sounded sharp. “Trin, I’ve tried waiting—looking for the girl I
saw in my visions to come back. You’re a starship captain for heaven’s sake! You
have a happy, cheerful, calm disposition—or you did before that priestess got
hold of you. You need to find that part of yourself and let her out!”

“She’s
gone.” Trin could barely make herself say the words. “If she ever existed.” The
blood curse had eaten the person she used to be—eaten her and left nothing but
a shell.

“She
does
exist,” Charlie insisted. “And
she’s got to come back but it seems like Becca and I can’t help you find her.
So we called someone who can.”

Just
as she spoke, there was a knock at the door. Becca ran to get it and came back
with a tall Kindred male with spiky blond hair and ice blue eyes.

“This
is Commander Sylvan,” Charlie said, introducing him. “He’s the head of the
Kindred Council but he’s also a doctor.”

“Hello,
Trin.” The male bowed courteously and Trin barely inclined her head in return.

“We
asked him to come and look at you,” Becca said softly. “I know you don’t want
any doctors but Charlie and I have done all we can—we can’t just let you waste
away with this awful curse.”

That
was exactly what Trin wanted them to do—just let her die of the curse. But
short of jumping off the couch and running away, she didn’t see how she could
avoid the doctor they had brought.

Though
it seemed strange to be examined by a male medical person, Trin submitted to
his poking and prodding and tried to answer his questions. Such as…why didn’t
she eat?

Well,
because she wasn’t hungry.

Why
had she not had her wounds seen to? Didn’t they hurt?

Yes,
they hurt but it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered.

What
about Thrace?
Didn’t she want to see him?

No,
she didn’t really want to see anyone. Mostly she was just tired and wanted to
sleep.

At
last, after asking all the same questions that Becca and Charlie had been
asking her for days, Commander Sylvan stood back and frowned.

“Far
has told me all he knows about this blood curse that was placed upon Trin back
at her home temple. And what I’m seeing is certainly consistent with its
symptoms.”

“So
it’s a real thing?” Charlie sounded skeptical. “I know what you told me about
it, Becca,” she went on, looking at her friend. “But I just don’t see how it
can possibly work. The Goddess herself told me the deity they worship isn’t
even real. How can she curse someone if she’s just a stone idol?”

“It
was the priestess who laid the curse,” Becca reminded her.

“And
it is working because Trin believes it is real,” Sylvan said softly. “You
cannot remove the teachings of a lifetime in a moment, Charlotte.”

“All
right, fine—whatever.” Charlie made an impatient motion. “So the curse is real.”

“Real
enough that it’s killing Trin,” the blond Kindred said gravely.

“Well
can you help her get over it? Can you give her some medicine or remove the
curse?” Becca asked anxiously.

Commander
Sylvan shook his head.

“I
am afraid there is no medicine for the kind of sickness the blood curse causes.”

“Well
then what can we do?” Becca demanded. “We have to help her, Commander Sylvan.
We
have
to.”

“We
cannot…but maybe a priestess can,” he murmured.

“A
priestess? You mean in the Sacred Grove?”

“I
think that would be the best place, yes.” He nodded. “After all, did you not
say that a priestess from her home world laid the curse on her in the first
place?”

“Yes,
she did—the horrible bitch.” Charlie made a face.

“Then
a priestess from the true Goddess—the Mother of All Life—must remove it. Trin
must be taken to the Sacred Grove. My kin—my niece as I believe you would call
her—is here for a brief visit from First World.
She can see Trin.”

“Who—Nadiah?”
Becca asked. “I met her once when I was hanging out with Sophie and she called
on the viewscreen. She’s nice.”

“She
is also the Mouthpiece of the Goddess,” Commander Sylvan said. “If anyone can
speak for the Mother of All Life, Nadiah can. We are very lucky she’s here,
another priestess might have to see
into
Trin—that is not a comfortable experience. Nadiah doesn’t need to see into
anyone to get to the heart of a problem—she has other ways of finding answers.”