The Demon Master's Wife (Fantasy, Space Opera, Science Fiction Romance) (FORCED TO SERVE) (11 page)

Ania snorted. “I did not call you to discuss my bonding experience with Liam Synar.”

Malachi raised an eyebrow and leaned forward. “Yes, I know you have questions because I can feel them. I haven’t been so anticipatory in centuries, but I see images of you and Liam together flitting through your thoughts every few minutes, so talk about it. Then we can move on to other topics.”

“Alright—fine. I enjoyed bonding with him. Okay? And as you well know, I never enjoyed it before. Was last night good because of you, or Dorian and Gwen?” she asked, looking away from his smirk.

“That’s not easy to explain. Let’s just say all the vibrations you collected had a little party and you got lucky to be the prize-winning entity on the receiving end. You do know what a party is, don’t you? If you don’t, ask Gwen. That’s where I got that word. Some very interesting things came along from the energy of both the Siren and the mostly Earthling female. From my perspective, it was practically a vibration orgy with the four of you,” Malachi said. “But the end result was all for you, Ania. All for you.”

Ania crossed her arms, tried to frown, but she looked at his pleased and amused expression, and broke out laughing. “Why do I find this amusing instead of offensive? You’re incorrigible. How did you increase my desire? Pleiadians do not feel like I did last night.”

“I swear by the creators that I did not increase your desire. That desire has always been there for Liam. I merely moved eight hundred years of repression out of the way and let that first hundred with the Sirens be the real you last evening. I did you a favor. You can show me proper gratitude any time, Ania Looren,” Malachi said, studying her and crossing his arms in return.

Ania looked away as she thought about what he said. Could such a thing be true? Had that desire been all her?

“You can be as resistant as you like to the truth today. I’m feeling all mellow thanks to your time with Liam, so I’m not going to get upset at your doubts. Instead, I’m going to just confess something to you because your feelings for Liam have reminded me. I miss Jonas. He was my favorite host—no offense,” Malachi said. “He could please a female one minute and be totally at peace playing his musical instrument a short time later. He sincerely liked himself. That’s a rare trait in most creatures.”

“Did Jonas know you or know he was a host for you?” Ania asked.

Malachi’s eyes grew even darker. “No. My existence was kept from him. We never directly communicated and I came to accept that. I hope wherever his energy is now that he is as contented as he was in physical form.”

“I am sorry Jonas missed the chance to know you,” Ania said. “If you would have shown yourself to him as you have to me, I think he would have liked you—I mean, outside the whole death and destruction thing.”

“Well said—I’m definitely as capable of evil as everyone thinks and it is wise to keep that in mind,” Malachi said firmly and without apology. “But I know how to be good to my hosts—even you, Ania Looren.”

He stared at her for a few moments and then spoke again. “I will use that as my segue to ask a question of my own. Have you made your decision about the healing yet?”

“Not yet. I feel like I can’t until I know my mind fully again. Pieces of me are missing and on some level I am aware of this. Is it possible—I mean, of course it is possible. I have to believe that, so I’ll just ask the real question. Will you give back
all
my memories?” she asked.

“How do you know something is missing? I usually do a better job of mental reprogramming,” Malachi said, frowning at her.

“Dorian said my spirit is not dead, but instead just sleeps. Even with my limited ability to use my intuition, I still see that I know some things, but not all. Why have you hidden some things away from me?” Ania asked.

“Normally, I do not do so much. In your case, it was part of my survival. Enlightened beings are anti-demon hosts. It’s just the way it is. And let me just say that it wasn’t easy tucking eight hundred years of spiritual study away,” Malachi asked. “To have it all back will only make hosting me harder for you to bear.”

Ania smiled sadly at his reluctant understanding. “That might suit your purposes better than you realize, demon. Perhaps it would hasten me launching myself out the exhaust port of the Liberator in despair, but I still want my memories back. I want to be able to meditate again. If I need to prepare for my death, I want my spiritual self to be whole. In exchange, I will grant you a request as well—so long as the request involves no harm to anyone.”

Both misty eyebrows shot up as Malachi sat straighter in his seat. “You would grant me a boon? Me? How very careless of you to offer such power to a demon, Ania Looren.”

Ania bowed her head respectfully. “Depends on what you desire, Malachi. What do you wish above all?”

“To be a whole person again,” Malachi answered immediately, not even having to think about it after more than a millennia spent as mist. “I wish to walk among the living and have a life that is just my own. Can you grant me that?”

Ania lifted her chin at his challenge. “I do not know what I can do in reality, but I can give you my vow that I will look for a way. When I find it I swear I will not hold back the information from you. With the creators of all as my witness, I will be diligent in researching.”

“You never cease to amaze me with your need to be fair to an entity who would kill you without feeling regret. I would, you know. However, this offer intrigues me. Consider it now our accord,” Malachi said gleefully. “I suggest we do the memory return while you sleep. It would make you ill to get so much back in a rush, and it will take me a short while to undo the energy blocks I put over them.”

Ania nodded. “Whatever you think is best. Now I have yet another request for information if you are amenable.”

“Wow, you’re really testing the limits of my goodwill today. What is it you wish to know, oh host of me?” Malachi teased.

“Tell me more about the physical cost of being completely healed,” Ania commanded softly, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Does it hurt? If so, how much?”

Malachi studied Ania, saw her intent reflected in her blue eyes. He almost hated to tell her the truth, especially now that he realized her suffering would not bring him any pleasure. Ania Looren was the first creature other than Jonas to receive his compassion in an extremely long time. The knowledge made Malachi frown at her again.

“Yes. It hurts to be healed. Previously healed hosts have said it is like fire is consuming you. Your body changes. Your mind is forced to adapt and will rid itself of what is not needed for the new form. You will evolve into a blended creature that will primarily serve itself and its own will to live,” Malachi said. “I have seen memories of what you endured for the level of Khalsa training you achieved. If you could handle that torture, you can probably handle the healing change. But it will be challenging.”

Ania nodded and looked off, not really wanting to think about the final warrior test she had passed. Not even Malachi had been able to bury that memory deep enough. Any cell of her body could instantly recall the torture with ease. She had cried and wept until she’d been ill, and still the pain had not lessened until the time was done. It had almost broken her stoic nature, but in the end she had persevered.

“Can the healing be undone later?” Ania asked.

Malachi waited a bit to speak, knowing what he told her might be the deal breaker, but in the end he figured it best to be as honest as possible. His female host was certainly no coward.

“No—to the best of my knowledge, it cannot be undone. You would have to wait for death to find you afterward, no matter how many more centuries it takes. We would be bound together physically and spiritually until then,” Malachi told her, not sparing her.

Ania sighed and studied her hands. “After I feel myself again and know my spirit once more, I will make my decision. Thank you for telling me the truth, Malachi.”

“Indulge me while I tell you one more truth since you’re so anxious to hear them today,” Malachi said, leaning forward to meet her gaze more intensely. “If the creators of all have a plan for you, nothing will change that destiny. After many, many centuries of seeing their will up close and personal, I can assure you that you will comply, one way or another. I may not have learned all the lessons they thought to teach me, but of that one, I am convinced. Their power is greater than mine, and I concede that to very few beings.”

They sat in silence thinking of what each had shared. Then Malachi could stand the pensiveness no longer.

“In an effort to invigorate our now dreary discussion, let me ask a lighter question. Are you going back to bond with Synar again tonight?” Malachi asked. “You may no longer want him once you get all that spiritual baggage back about physical desire being bad and all that rubbish. You might want to take advantage of your natural urges for him while you can.”

Ania had been careful to avoid Synar all day, careful not to seek him out. Of course, Gwen and Dorian had occupied most of her time.

“No. That was not me last night either. Nothing is right now. I hardly have more substance than you do, Malachi. I haven’t felt like myself since I swore to mate Synar,” Ania said. “That was even before you were a part of me. My problems with my former mate are not your fault.”

Malachi looked at her and felt the oddest sense of responsibility. It manifested itself in a desire to see her more lighthearted about her life, but he let his compassion for her be tempered with irritation that somehow Ania Looren had the power to make him care.

“Do you genuinely consider yourself enlightened? I see now there was no need to keep your life experiences from you as you may need nine hundred more years to learn to be honest with yourself about your own true nature,” Malachi said sternly, watching her sigh at his chastisement. “In exchange for the respect you have shown me, I agree to restore all that you are and have been. Also, I will never again try to hide your spirit from you. If you choose for me to heal you, I also agree to have no decision in how much of it you keep. We will let the creators of all decide who you will be after the change.”

“I thank you for your agreement, Malachi—Demon of Synar. It took me eight centuries to make amends for my one century of being evil. We are not so different you and I. You may want to start considering how to balance what you have done by doing good. I see it as your only path to living again, as you wish to do,” Ania said.

“Stop there before I lose my good mood. Don’t get so carried away trying to help me, Ania Looren. I don’t want to be as good as you,” Malachi said with a smile. “I have to work at just being decent. Evil is much easier.”

“No one is all good. Some of us just
aspire
to the ideal more than others,” Ania said finally. “Thank you for answering my questions. You may take your leave when you wish.”

“I am starting to like the way you talk to me. Until tomorrow,” Malachi said, nodding quickly to her as he disappeared.

***

During the night Ania dreamed, vivid, tortured dreams of all she had lived and survived as a warrior. She was startled awake in the dark and reluctant to remain alone with guilty memories of all the creatures she had harmed. She would rather think of happier times, and proof of the best of them was sleeping a couple hallways away from her.

Slipping her shoes on, Ania padded down the halls of the ship until she stood outside Synar’s door. She raised her hand to knock, but Synar opened it before she could do so. He wore nothing, which caught her off-guard and rendered her silent. His muscular chest, flat stomach, and other assets were all on display to her eyes that couldn’t stop traveling over his form.

“Do you always answer the door without your clothes?” Ania finally asked, averting her gaze to keep from staring at his body, which brought it instead to his recently chopped off hair. He hadn’t even taken the time for a proper haircut. An unfamiliar feeling of compassion moved within her, one that made her want to share whatever burden was keeping him so stressed.

“I woke suddenly and felt you standing in the hall,” Synar said roughly, grabbing her wrist and dragging her inside so he could close the door.

“I’m having bad dreams,” Ania explained, tugging on the wrist Synar evidently wasn’t letting go of. “Can I stay with you—just to rest?”

“Yes, of course. Remove your shoes,” Synar ordered, waiting until she did to pull her to the bed. “I am glad you returned.”

“I just need to sleep,” Ania whispered.

“Fine,” Synar said, lying down and pulling her across him until she was tucked between him and the wall. “Do not leave me again while I sleep. Wake me if you feel you must flee.”

“I did not
flee
this morning. I merely got up at my normal waking time and went to exercise,” Ania argued. “You were exhausted and still sleeping.”

When Synar said nothing in reply to her defense, Ania called his name softly.

Then she realized the male who was clutching her desperately tight had fallen immediately back to sleep. His breathing was deep and regular, his arms locked around her.

Not yet able to drift off herself, Ania sighed heavily and picked up some of his hair to hold in her fingers while she examined it. Was his hair finer than she remembered? Now she found it both familiar and yet strange.