The Demon Master's Wife (Fantasy, Space Opera, Science Fiction Romance) (FORCED TO SERVE) (32 page)

Gwen laughed. “So does my lowest stun setting.”

Dorian smiled against the top of her head. “I see your evil sense of humor is returning.”

Gwen laughed then. And though she didn’t know completely why, she turned in Zade’s arms and wrapped hers around him tightly, holding him to her fiercely. She looked up into his face, thinking once again how astoundingly attractive he was. “You can trust me to be faithful. I swear by the creators.”

“Sweet joy—I trust you completely,” Dorian whispered, amazed to be meaning it. “It is the unmated males on this ship that I do not trust.”

Gwen put her forehead against his chest, stroking his back with long sweeps of her hands.

“If I find myself wanting to bond, I’ll be sure and let you know before I act,” she teased. “As spiritual counselor, you could pray for me.”

“As your mate, I could meet your needs,” Dorian corrected softly. “I’d pray instead for the males that disrespected you, that they get wiser about not propositioning someone else’s mate. Then I’d make them sorry they did.”

Gwen pushed out of his arms. “Zade, I can’t—I can’t be with you knowing it’s only pity. No female wants that.”

Dorian frowned. “What I offer of myself is not out of pity,” he said, watching her walk to the door. “It is honor, duty, caring.”

“Yes—well it’s also just not happening again until it can be like it was,” Gwen said firmly. “We both deserve more than what you are offering me right now.”

“Is this contrariness another human female thing?” Dorian asked, totally confused by her insistence that she didn’t want to bond with him when he could feel that she did. His other two mates had never refused him. He didn’t know what to do with a female who turned him down despite her own desires.

“No,” she said. “It’s not a human female thing—it’s a Gwen Jet thing. I’m not settling for less with you when I have memories of how it was still floating around in my mind. I want it to be that way between us again. I intend to be a lot more willing next time you—do the claiming thing. Just wait for me to get my head straight. Okay?”

Then she closed the door softly behind her and mourned what she had lost as she walked the corridor to her own room.

***

Synar walked to a wall, gave a command, and out slid a drawer. From the drawer, he lifted out a small chest and carried it to the desk.

Ania slid the training books back and out of the way to make room for it. She could feel the power radiating from the chest as Synar set it down.

“The amulet is the container for the curse and the chest holds the words to send Malachi into the void,” he explained. “Conor thinks it’s all in the amulet, but that’s because the next master doesn’t get to see inside the chest until the demon is being passed. The demon goes into the amulet, the ritual is performed, and the new master calls him out.”

He put his hands above the top of the chest, hovering over what looked to Ania to be palm prints burnt into the container.

“Only the master can open the chest,” Synar said. “It is demon proof and cannot be destroyed by the demon’s power.”

“I read the amulet can function like a prison. Has Malachi ever been locked away in the amulet?” Ania asked.

“Yes,” Synar said, frowning as he carefully searched for the right words. “In the early generations, sometimes a person would decide they just couldn’t handle the responsibility. So the master would lock him away until it was time to pass him to the next generation.”

“What was the longest time Malachi spent in there?” Ania asked.

“The longest time was around four hundred Earth years,” Synar said. “I had intended to lock him away myself. I was just waiting for Jonas to die.”

Ania looked at Liam, not really surprised at his revelation, but she felt Malachi ripple inside her. “I can tell Malachi’s power excites even you, Liam Synar. You are stronger, more capable when he is near you. Why do you not embrace what he brings to you?”

Synar stepped away from the desk to pace. “My mother was attacked once by a group of Norblade males who coveted Malachi’s power. She was tortured and physically abused. They were without wisdom and thought to trade what was left of her life to my father for the amulet and Malachi. My father took their lives instead, but he waited a long time to do so and tried to reason with them first. He did not like to kill those who did not realize the demon’s power. Neither do I.”

Synar stopped pacing to look at Ania, whose gaze was locked on him as she listened.

“When it was over, my mother was restored to us. What could not be undone though was what had already happened to her. The death of the males who abused her did nothing to heal her internal wounds. She was never the same afterwards and never forgave my father for Malachi being the reason she was hurt,” Synar explained. “Fearing for those who share your life, that is the price of holding Malachi’s power. Like my father, I never wanted it either, yet now I have that situation anyway. The demon may be my legacy, but being his master will never be my willing choice. I keep him only because there is no one else. If I hadn’t used him to save your life, he would already be locked away.”

Ania had no argument to make that would comfort Synar about what happened to his mother. Access to unlimited power did not sit comfortably on everyone’s shoulders, but she thought Liam did a better job of handling things than he gave himself credit for since outside of using Malachi’s power to save her life, he was never tempted at all to abuse it.

Being so free of power lust was not something she could claim herself. She had not been content to rescue the captives from Fener Sel and his kind. She had purposely sent Malachi to punish them. And though she regretted the actions, she felt no true remorse.

“Do you sometimes wonder what it would have been like if you had let me die instead of saving me?” Ania asked.

“No,” Synar said firmly. “That choice was beyond my power to make. Of all the decisions in my life I question, that one is very clear as having been right.”

“Then do not look back in time nor to either side of what you have agreed to do as the demon’s master. Do not wonder if you are doing the right thing now in helping me stop Conor,” Ania said. “You are still answering to a higher purpose than my desires or yours.”

“Perhaps—but I live knowing that because of my choices, you will never be without the demon, and might never know again the peace you spent your life obtaining,” Synar said. “My part in your fate helps me understand my father more. I’m completely sure he felt this guilty about my mother, but guilt does not change things.”

“What you say is true, but what you don’t see yet is that I understand Malachi in way few other hosts likely have. What’s more, I spent over eight hundred years choosing to do things differently than he has done. I know what it is to work at being good. The creators of all redeemed me. I believe they can do the same for Malachi,” Ania said. “I even believe I am to be his teacher.”

“What do you feel about Conor now that you have spoken with him? Can my brother be redeemed?” Synar asked. “It seems like if you can have such faith in being able to save a demon, you should be able to do the same for most anyone.”

Ania thought carefully about how to explain Conor’s true motivations. It was going to be difficult for a fundamentally good male like Liam Synar to understand a fundamentally darker one no matter what she said. If he had an aversion to understanding and accepting Malachi who have lived his punishment for over a thousand years, Synar was never going to understand his brother who had not been exposed to anything in his current life that had a chance of redeeming him. Not even his mate.

“Conor flatly told his mate that her death would mean nothing to him. If a male does not value the female closest to his spirit, what could he ever feel for creatures he does not know? Conor has let the power madness become his guide in everything,” Ania said. “For those reasons and more, I have not changed my mind, Liam.”

“I don’t want to do this to him, but I can’t willingly let Conor kill anyone else either,” Synar said sadly. “And I can’t let him get control of Malachi.”

“No, you can’t. If it comforts you, Malachi has said that what we plan could change Conor if he allows his spirit to be redeemed,” Ania said gently, reaching for the positive side of what they intended to do.

“The predictions of a demon lack the ability to comfort me. Debating this with you will not help me accept it more either. I am resigned to go forward with your plan only because I see no other alternative,” Synar said.

“Perhaps if you tried to see it as saving other creatures from Conor’s evil?” Ania suggested.

“Stop trying to console me. It is wasted effort,” Synar said frowning. “Come. Let’s see if you can handle the amulet without pain. Normally, it hurts Malachi to have contact with it. He says it calls to him too strongly for him to resist.”

When Synar placed his hands over the palm prints and chanted, the chest opened and Ania saw a small metal container on a chain lying in the box. Its compete lack of adornment was interesting in itself. No one looking at it would have known about its purpose.

Synar lifted it from the box by the chain and held it out to her.

Malachi fluttered in alarm, but Ania reached out her hand anyway. The chain fell heavily across her palm as she closed her fingers over it. There was a definite pull, and even some pain, but she could ignore both.

Relax. The amulet is not for you. I just wanted to see if I could hold it safely,
she sent.

If you put me in that metal box, you will be only what you were without me,
Malachi warned, panicked at Ania’s eerily calm reaction and her ability to withstand the amulet’s call to her.
No being can know true death until they have spent time in the void without light or thought or action of any sort. It is the worst punishment of the creators.

Stop worrying. Have I given you a reason to doubt my intentions towards you?
she demanded, switching the chain to the other palm and picking up the amulet to study it more closely.

Malachi was silent as Ania walked around the room, holding the amulet out in front of her. Without the chest, it had no feeling of power surrounding it, but she could feel the sacredness.

Then testing her endurance further, she put the amulet’s chain over her head and around her neck. Suddenly the power in the amulet came alive.

Enough! You are torturing me. I know it hurts you as well,
Malachi complained.
Why do you test us?

Those who serve the good, who serve the will of the creators of all, need not fear anything, not even pain or death,
Ania sent.
Be at peace Malachi, Demon of Synar. Despite Liam’s confession of his intentions, you have my word the amulet is not intended for you today or any other. You have my word.

Malachi fluttered again within her, but finally settled down at her words and her continued calm. They suffered together as the amulet called to them both, and Ania let him see her pain.

You are the only host I have ever trusted enough to not fight their will,
Malachi said finally.
You don’t know how difficult it is for me to believe your words and intent.

I am Khalsa and Pleiadian. I speak the truth whether people wish to hear it or not. I will honor all I have said to you,
Ania sent.
Honoring you is the will of the creators who made us both.

Ania slipped the chain back over her head and off, walking back to return the amulet to Synar. He took it from her and laid it in the box again, chanting without attempting to shield the words from her.

“There is great power in the amulet,” Ania said, interrupting him.

“Yes,” Synar answered, holding it in both hands as he replaced it carefully inside the chest. “Since you finished all the books of training, you know its power better than I do.”

“Why do you trust me, Liam?” Ania asked. “You have shared all your family’s secrets with me. I could be harboring a secret intention to do you harm as I have told Conor I do.”

Synar stored the chest back in the wall compartment before he answered.

“I continue to have reservations about sharing so much with you,” he admitted. “Yet I also know that you could take a knife and stab me as Conor did my father, and I wouldn’t lift a hand to stop you. My trust of you exceeds my logic, even my will to live. Perhaps I serve you as much as I do Malachi or as much as Malachi serves me. I just know I will not step aside from my relationship to you even if it means my death.”

“Your death would likely become my death as well, Liam Synar,” Ania said, matching his sincerity. “We would return to the creators of all together because I would kill your brother and sever my sacred contract with Malachi. The Demon of Synar would just have to pass to some other person brave enough to rule him.”

“No. You must never do that,” Synar pleaded. “There are no more members of my family to inherit. If Conor and I both die, Malachi will become the property of whoever holds the chest and the amulet. Then my mother’s attackers will have the situation they were trying to force on my father. You have to live and keep partial control if Conor succeeds in killing me. As a Pleiadian, you would outlive Conor’s natural life and be able to train Malachi’s next master.”