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hands.

"She knows you had to be subdued outside Kahn's quarters." The Director turned her

head. "What did you hope to accomplish?"

"I wanted my woman back!" he grumbled. "Haven't you tormented me enough, yet?"

Dr. Dean pushed up from the floor and sat at his other side; she kept a firm hand on his

left knee.

"It was Tylan Kahn's idea to buy Bridget, Kamerone. We had nothing to do with that."

"He had no right! You should not have let her go with him!"

"We Terran women have no choice but to do as we are bid by Rysalian warriors; you

know that. He wanted her and he took her."

"She belongs to me!" he thundered, striving uselessly to lift his left hand. A sound of utter disgust rippled through his broad chest.

"She was Konnor Rhye's, too, but you took her from him," she reminded him.

Instant fury sparked in Cree's demon eyes and he glared at her. "That is beside the

point! I outranked him!"

"And Kahn outranks you," replied Beryla.

"She is mine!" he said stubbornly and tried his best to move his arm enough to grab her, but all he managed to do was swing it into his lap where it lay like a limp noodle.

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"You have crippled me for life, bitch!"

"LeJong, give him some more of the—"

"No! I won't drink any more of that crap!"

"Suit yourself," Beryla sighed.

"I do not feel good," he complained. "That stuff makes it worse."

LeJong put a hand to his forehead. "He is feverish. The antitoxin is taking effect."

He managed to swing his head toward the woman with the flat face. "What gods-be-

damned antitoxin? Who authorized you to give me...?"

"We were speaking of Bridget," the Director interrupted, frowning a warning at LeJong to hold her tongue.

"Aye. I want her back."

"And just how will you do that?"

"I will get her back! I have a plan."

"Like the one you had this afternoon?" she snorted. "That worked out well, didn't it?"

"I would have gotten in if you hadn't—"

"You were up against two dozen men with another dozen on their way. I'd say those

were rather formidable odds even for a Reaper. There was no way they would ever have

let you breach Kahn's door. You would have been arrested, jailed, tried, and wound up

right back at Be-Mod 9." When he flinched, she drove the needle deeper. "I would

imagine your next session of reinforcement therapy will be of longer duration and far

more intense."

"Far more intense?" he bellowed at her. "You damned well drove me mad the last time you had me in your hands, woman!"

"I don't really think he has to worry about a next time, Madame Director," a fourth woman piped up. "I vote we move on to another Reaper. I have already chosen a Terran

female to be linked to Kryn Kiel. He showed a marked interest in her when he saw her on

the promenade this morning."

Something clicked in Cree's brain and he swung his head to the unknown woman

looking back at him from the far side of the room. It was all there before him, now—

neatly aligning itself like the pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. He had been trying for two years

to understand why they had singled him out to annoy; now he knew. Had he watched

Bridget as Kiel had watched the female this woman mentioned?

He could not remember doing so; could not remember ever having seen Bridget before

that first day in Be-Mod 9, but that was not to say he hadn't. Had he followed her with

eyes so hungry some woman had taken note of it and mentioned it to another? Had he

shown `marked interest' in Bridget and in the doing, sealed his fate?

"You orchestrated this whole thing, didn't you? Making me want her; allowing me to

purchase her; making me so jealous..." He stopped and turned to look directly at Beryla.

"There were subliminals in the therapy, weren't there?"

"Yes."

A horrible thought entered his mind. "And Bridget?" He was afraid to ask, but Dorrie saved him the trouble.

"Did you really think she would fall in love with you without a little help from us,

Cree?"

Sitting there, movement finally returning to his weak legs and leaden arms, Cree did

not respond to her callous words, although they had cut him deeper than any laser lash

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ever could. He just looked at the Technician, his face filled with hurt. "She doesn't know you used them on her, does she?"

"No. I doubt she would have agreed to it had she known what we would do."

Cree lowered his head. "Is it reversible?"

"If you are asking if the suggestionaries will wear off," the Director answered, "No, they won't. What she feels, she will feel for as long as she lives."

"Even if she should find out what you did?"

"It won't matter to her."

Cree closed his eyes. "You had it all planned, didn't you?"

"Yes. Down to the last detail. We left nothing to chance."

"The only way you will ever get Bridget back is if you help us," the unknown woman

across the room said. "Help us put responsible women in the seats of power."

Cree opened his eyes and looked at her. "I will get her back."

"How?" she challenged.

He shook his head. "I don't know yet, but I will."

"We are your only way!" the woman snapped. "Fight us and I swear the Resistance will not lift one finger to help you. Bridget will stay with Tylan Kahn and we will make gods-be-damned sure you are transported back to Helios Twelve where you can not do harm to

our cause!"

"Who
are
you, woman?"

"That isn't important," the Director broke in.

"Aye, it is!" he spat. "You are Chalean."

The woman nodded. "I am." She lifted her head. "I am Hael Sejm of the Royal House of Brell."

Cree's brows drew together. "My dam—" The Reaper gaped at her. This woman staring

at him with such loathing was his kin! His aunt! The sister of the woman who had given

him life.

"Aye," Hael spat. "Analeis Brell was my sister." Her eyes narrowed dangerously. "And now you know why I despise you!"

"He had no hand in what was done to his mother, Hael," LeJong said softly. She was

sitting closer to the Reaper than Beryla was and she knew his full strength had returned;

yet he had made no move to get up.

"Had we been left on our world," Hael spat. "Had we not been ravaged, she would still be alive and that—" she pointed a trembling finger at Cree. "—monstrosity would never have been born!"

Cree had often wondered about the female who had given birth to him. He knew she

had died at the hands of his own sire, but he did not know the particulars. There was no

one who either could, or would, tell him about his dam. He wanted to know.

"Tell me."

"With pleasure." Hael smirked.

"No!" Beryla snapped. "It is not something he needs to know."

"Why not? We need his help to crush the Empire. Let him know what the Empire did

to his mother!"

"You are not telling him this to further our cause," LeJong accused. "You are telling him this to hurt him."

"Let her talk.

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Hael stood up, her body fairly quivering with rage. She was furious at LeJong for not

having given the Reaper the poison she had intended he receive. When she had entered

Beryla's office to find Kamerone Cree sleeping on the Director's couch, her hand had

gone to the dagger at her belt and she had stepped forward, wanting nothing more than to

plunge the blade into his black heart. She would have had LeJong not stepped forward to

stop her.

"Go on," Cree insisted. "I want to hear what you have to say."

"Oh, you shall, Reaper," Hael sneered. "You shall." She took a long breath, then began her tale.

"The Empire sent a military envoy to Chale to bring back women for their warriors.

Our father, the King, had signed an agreement with the Rysalian Tribunal and word had

gone out for interested women to appear at the court the next day. Hundreds came for we

were a poor kingdom and many had empty bellies and empty pockets. Drae Cree was

only a lieutenant then and he was the Keeper in charge of transporting the women back to

Rysalia Prime. The ships were loaded with eager brides for the Rysalian warriors, yet

Cree had not found a woman among the throng who interested him." Hael threw Beryla a

damning look. "I suppose it takes a special woman for a man like him!"

"Get on with your tale, Sejm."

Hael locked her eyes on the Reaper. "Our father had kept us hidden from the envoy, for

he did not want any daughters of the Royal House to be seen by men he considered to be

evil beyond words. My sisters and I, seven of us, had been taken to the Shadowlands, the

sanctuary of the Daughters of the Multitude by our mother and aunts. There, we would be

safe until the Rysalians left."

She stopped, her jaw hardening as she glared at him. "We thought they were gone. We

had seen five Class Nine transport ships streaking toward Rysalia. Eager to be back with

our parents, we left the Sanctuary and headed home. Little did we know there was a

Keeper and his crew lurking about the forest, searching for the seven daughters of King

Rian Brell."

"The crew," Cree said. "Coure, Kullen, Kiel..."

"Tohre, Gehdrin, and Belial," Hael Sejm finished for him. "They raped us. Each of them took turns raping the rest of us, but Analeis, the youngest and prettiest, had been

claimed by the Keeper, by Commander Drae Cree, and no one dared touch her."

"He saved her to make her his Bride-mate," Beryla put in. "He loved her very much."

"He
lusted
after her!" Hael sneered. "She wanted nothing to do with him, was terrified of him, and pleaded with the bastard to return her to our father, but he would not. It was

already too late for my other sisters and myself. We were damaged goods and under

Chalean law, unfit to marry. We could never go home!"

"Even though you were raped?" Dorrie gasped.

Hael lifted her head. "Our Tribunal was strict in those days. Women whose virginity

had been taken by a man other than her legal mate were considered whores, sluts, and

unworthy to bear a legitimate child of a good household. It mattered not at all that she

had had no say in the loss of her purity. That was the law and all, even the King, had to

abide by it."

"That is why he never sent warriors to reclaim you," LeJong remarked.

"That is why," Hael spat. "The Rysalians thought he had accomplished a great feat when Drae Cree brought home the fabled Seven Sisters of Swords as the daughters of the

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Royal House of Brell were called. Not one member of the Tribunal questioned the crew's

claim to the women and all but one of us became concubines to those bastards."

"All but you," Cree said, beginning to understand more than he knew his aunt would

ever admit.

"I was the oldest and I fought like a banshee! None could tame me!" Her mouth

twisted. "They feared coming to my bed for I had sworn to slay them when they slept!"

"It's a wonder they didn't slit your throat and be done with it," Beryla commented.

"Analeis would not have allowed that to happen," Hael responded. She came closer to Cree, her eyes wild with fury. "She was the Seventh Daughter of a Seventh Daughter and

was born with a cowl. Do you know what that means, Reaper?"

He nodded. "She was Morrígú. I know that."

"Aye," she mimicked. "You know that!" She regarded him with a venomous look. "She was a witch. A very powerful witch and on her Joining Day, she laid a curse on the

Rysalians that not even the gods, Themselves, could break!" She came within two feet of

him. "She told Drae Cree that despite the impotence of his seed, the inability to

impregnate other females, there would be children born of the evil unions forced upon

her and her sisters. She warned them the children would be tainted with beastly blood,

black blood. The children would become jackals like the fathers who had sired them!"

Her vicious eyes narrowed. "But Cree and his men did not listen! They did not believe in the power of the Morrigú! They thought no issue would come from their foul deed."

"But it was not only the children of those unions she cursed, Hael. She cursed herself

and her sisters, as well, and that is where the real tragedy in this lies."

"Aye, she cursed herself!" Hael thundered. "She did not want Drae Cree to have joy in the act he would force upon her. She wanted him to suffer for what he had set into

motion! He wanted pleasure? He received pleasure, but he reaped well what he sowed!"

"He has suffered, Hael," Beryla agreed. "More than you know."

"Not enough!" Hael seethed. "Not nearly enough! But he will!"

LeJong looked down at her hands. "The sons even more than the fathers."

"So we were born Dearg-Duls. I was cursed by my own dam—"

"Your mother!" Hael Sejm shouted at him. "Your mother! Not your dam, fool. Your mother!"

Cree held her raging glower. "Aye, my mother."

"And because of you," Hael jeered, "she was murdered! You were the cause of her death!"