Marked for Danger (8 page)
Her gaze narrowed. “Bullshit."
"You're saying I should have let your pod burn up in the atmosphere?” Infuriated, he resisted the urge to shake her.
"No, of course not—"
"Good. Then let's try and get off this hellhole so we can get your memories back.” He turned his back and gripped her hand. The best thing for both of them was to get off this backward planet and try to undo the mind wipe.
He'd seen mind-wiped victims before. Carina certainly didn't act like them. Those poor souls barely remembered the basics. But she remembered her training, the underlying foundation of her personality. Those things didn't survive a mind wipe. Either they hadn't finished it or...what?
The good thing was that she'd have a better chance of regaining her memory than most. Usually the prognosis was pretty grim. It meant a visit to Teran Five. Xandros didn't like that at all.
Rudimentary hovels dotted the landscape and animals grazed in the center. People were hard at work milking, milling, or cooking at every residence. There were no stalls on the street or businesses. These were clearly people who relied one another for survival, not commerce.
He and Carina were spotted immediately, and every member of the village stopped what they were doing to stare. Almost every gaze focused on Carina's mark on her arm. Xandros didn't like the way they looked at her.
He walked in slowly, not forcefully but cautiously. Finally a woman stepped out from one of the huts and came closer to him. She was tall and thin with reddish blonde hair and deep green eyes. The shape and color of her eyes gave her away immediately. Ardasian. Mind readers.
Ardasians had been around the galaxy a lot longer than most. Xandros steered clear of them when he could. As a mercenary, he'd had to put up with Ardasian intermediaries. A few times, he'd been able to deceive them. But not often and not for long.
The woman smiled. “Long enough, Xandros Jasper. Long enough that your name has reached my ears. Even here.” She reached out a hand to Carina first. “Atlana Dresell."
Carina glanced at the woman's hand and then her gaze narrowed on her face. After a moment, she took Atlana's hand and touched it briefly. She shot a glance at him, and he realized she didn't know her name.
He stepped in smoothly and extended a hand to the other woman. “This is Carina."
Atlana stared at Carina. “Interesting."
Xandros dropped his hand. Damn it. All he wanted was a com. This was getting complicated and the Brotherhood was probably going to find them soon.
The rest of the village had gathered around Carina and himself in a circle, and one of them spoke to Atlana. She glanced at the speaker and then nodded. Then she took a deep breath. “I study the Nariadians, the natives of this planet, and their origins. Their language is complex and quite fascinating.” Her green eyes glittered. “The meaning of their legends aren't clear, but there's one that concerns you specifically."
Xandros's blood ran cold. Nothing good ever came from a legend or a prophecy. “Oh?” He slid his arm around Carina, ready to protect her if needed.
"They say,” Atlana began, her gaze locked with his, “that a woman will come to this planet bonded, marked with a bird. She and her marked mate will save the universe from a hidden evil."
Xandros said nothing. He didn't want anything to do with prophecies or legends. It was bad enough to have Leo Eyler quoting some ancient alien prophecy that involved his new mate, but now some out-of-the-way planet had a legend.
It was enough to make anyone paranoid.
"Then perhaps you would help us notify our friends.” He glanced at the faces in the circle and then met Atlana's disconcerting stare.
"They require proof,” Atlana said bluntly.
"Proof,” he repeated. Proof of what? That they were going to save the fucking universe? Right. Sure. He'd get right on that.
"Proof of your bond.” Atlana's gaze slid over the mark on Carina's arm. “Marks can be faked."
Shit
. Xandros knew where this was headed. He glared at Atlana. “No."
The woman raised her eyebrows. “They will not help you unless you show them."
Xandros gritted his teeth. “You know why I won't."
"Your actions don't fit your reputation,” Atlana said drily. “The great Xandros Jasper I've heard stories of would have done much and had no regrets."
"Would someone like to fill me in?” Carina asked in a tight voice.
Without breaking eye contact with the Ardasian, he answered her. “The bond is created by sex.” He waited a moment for that to sink in and then said, “They want proof of our bond."
"I see."
Xandros glanced at her, and her pasty white complexion concerned him. He turned his attention to the people standing in a circle around them. “I'm not sure why they need this. They don't know you can't remember."
One of the villagers spoke to Atlana, and she nodded. “They've agreed to a compromise."
"I'm listening.” He tried to remain calm.
"Any foreplay would create the fire, would it not?"
Considering just touching Carina caused his mark to burn and throb, foreplay would most definitely work. “Yes."
"A kiss, then.” Atlana glanced at Carina. “To show the bond."
"Do they require that I drop my pants?” he asked bitterly.
Atlana leveled a steady gaze in his direction. “Of course."
He sighed. He wasn't an exhibitionist, and public exposure didn't get him hot and bothered. But this was their chance to prove they were bonded. He yanked his pants open and dropped them.
"I am not doing this,” Carina whispered fiercely. “I don't remember you. I don't know you."
He ignored the stab of pain in his gut her words caused and faced his infuriated marked mate. “You will.” He stepped closer to her, not touching, not grabbing. “You will obey me. Do you know why?"
She gazed at him, her eyes dilated, her breath short. “No."
"Because it makes your stomach tighten when I give you an order. Because your pulse pounds when I put my hands on you. Because you long for your Master to claim what your body already knows you've surrendered."
He leaned in, his mouth close to hers. “Because the mark on your arm is on fire right now, and I haven't even touched you."
She closed her eyes and whimpered. “No,” she whispered, but every cell of her body reached out to him, submitted to him.
Xandros forgot the Nariadians. He forgot Atlana. He forgot everything except the woman in front of him. He wanted her on her knees, his cock in her mouth. He wanted his collar around her neck, a sign of his possession.
But most of all, he wanted to kiss her.
If the man didn't close the space between them, Carina was going to take matters into her own hands. But something held her back. He was right. When he gave her orders, when he spoke in that low, demanding tone, her whole being responded. She wanted to drop to her knees, to bow her head. It was instinctive, impulsive.
And when he said the word “Master,” she had such an intense longing that she almost moaned from the force of it. Waiting, needing, dying for his touch. This man she didn't know. This man with a matching mark who had saved her life.
"Please,” she begged him. “Touch me."
A low growl rumbled in his throat, and he jerked her in his arms. The mark flared hotter, sending needles of pain along her nerves. But pleasure and pain were blurred for Carina, and she wanted it all.
He plundered her mouth like a marauder, taking and taking until she had no breath, no will, nothing but pleasure. He gripped her shoulders, and when she raised her hands to touch him, he shifted until he restrained her arms behind her back. The blanket dropped away, and she gasped as her naked skin rubbed against the rough fabric of his shirt.
At his mercy, she wondered if she'd done this before, surrendered body and soul to this stranger. Yet the flavor of him, the feel of him, was
right.
Suddenly, he broke the kiss and stepped back, removing all contact with her. She felt bereft and cold. She kept her gaze downcast, instinctively knowing this was what she was supposed to do.
"Look at me,” he said in a low tone.
She glanced up and cringed at the grim expression on his face. His lips tightened, and he held up her arm. Her mark glowed fiery red. His was blazing as well. His cock was iron hard, and she resisted the urge to capture the length in her hand. What the hell was wrong with her? She didn't know him, and yet she wanted him.
He held her gaze and said in a whisper, “It's the hormones. I will not take advantage of this."
She tried to understand what he meant. “You were right. About what I felt."
He groaned and closed his eyes. Gently, he picked the blanket up and draped it over her shoulders, covering her. “It's all instinct. Believe me, machinka. It's just lust.” He glared at the crowd. “Proof enough?"
Atlana bowed her head. “More than enough."
Xandros pulled up his pants. “Perhaps we could find somewhere less public to talk."
The woman nodded and waved her hand to a small cottage. “Certainly."
It was beginning to sink in. Xandros had dominated her, knowing she was a submissive. The words were there and the meaning of them, but Carina didn't know how she knew them. He'd proven their bond and didn't need to kiss her. But she'd begged him, and he'd “obliged.” Bitterly, she accepted that she'd created the very scenario she'd been afraid of in the first place.
Yet she couldn't help feeling he'd manipulated her. The frustration of not remembering and the humiliation of her capitulation to a man who was essentially a stranger to her combined to put sneer in her tone. “I hope you enjoyed yourself,” she said.
Something skirted at the edge of her consciousness. She'd said those words before. To him.
Everything began to spin, and she tried to hold on to the moment. When had she said those words? How had she known this man? But the memories flitted away, leaving her frustrated and angry. And dizzy.
"Let it go, Carina. Don't try and remember.” His voice came from far away.
She realized he'd taken her in his arms and was carrying her. Her instinct screamed to fight him, get away from him, but she was too weak. Another part of her wanted to snuggle closer to him, wind her arms around him like a vine so there was no space between them.
This was insane.
She took a deep breath and kept her eyes closed. When she opened them, Xandros had carried her into a small hut. He dropped her to her feet near a cushioned chair and waited until she was seated. Then he stepped away abruptly, backpedaling from any contact with her as if she were contaminated.
She wished he hadn't removed his touch. The feeling of safety left with him. Even though part of her resented his claim on her, she didn't want him to go too far away. He didn't even look at her, his focus on the green-eyed woman. A jumble of memories slammed into her. Like she knew he was furious, even though his body seemed relaxed. It had something to do with the tilt of his head, the set of his mouth. How did she know that?
She couldn't escape the reality. She knew this man, had known him. The marks showed they'd had some kind of sexual encounter. It was frustrating to run into a wall about herself, her childhood, her life. Her head pounded, and she rubbed her temples.
The green-eyed woman handed her a flight suit with a strange insignia. Carina struggled into the thing, still dizzy.
Xandros's voice was calm. “I assume you have a com."
Atlana nodded. “I do.” She revealed a hidden compartment in the floor of the hut.
Xandros knelt and reached for the dials. But before he touched them, he froze. “You're an Ardasian. You can read thoughts.” He glanced up at Atlana. “Can you help her?"
Atlana's green eyes softened. “No. I can't. It takes specialized equipment to reverse a mind wipe. Would you give up your chance for escape to regain her memories?"
His gaze slid back to the dials. “To give her back to herself? Yes."
Carina stared at him. From the things he'd said earlier, she knew the priests would kill him, but she'd probably live if they were captured. But he was willing to risk it. To give her back her memories, her life.
Atlana shot Carina an inquiring look. “Perhaps she doesn't want to remember."
Xandros's head snapped up. “She would want to remember.” His blue eyes swerved to narrow in on her. “It probably frustrates her not to remember, not to know."
Slowly, she nodded. “You're sure about that?"
His attention was back on the com. “I know."
Carina waited for him to elaborate, but he didn't. He flicked buttons, and a voice came over the com.
"Where the hell are you?” A male voice, harsh and low, filled the hut.
Xandros smiled. “Did you miss me, Fenway?"
"Yes. But right now, I'm pissed at you.” There was something intimate, almost sexual in the way the two men spoke to each other. Carina's gaze narrowed on Xandros's face. He claimed to be her mate, yet she sensed something between him and this mystery man Fenway.
"You don't have time to be pissed at me. We're on Nariad. The Brotherhood will find us any minute."
"Right. You know what I need you to do, Xandros,” the voice said in an authoritative tone that made Carina shiver.
Xandros's lips tightened. “Shaun—"
"Do it, you stubborn bastard!” The man sounded worried, not angry. Carina raised her eyebrows.
Her mate sighed. “All right. If you get here fast enough, I won't have to."
"Don't risk it."
The com clicked off, and Xandros straightened. Carina studied him. “What does he want you to do?"
He sighed and took out a small capsule from a small pocket in his pants. He popped it in his mouth. “It's a tracking device.” His lips twisted. “I don't like tracking devices."
She raised an eyebrow. “Is it permanent?"
He shook his head. “It only works for forty-eight hours, but it may give Shaun time to find me if the Brotherhood finds us."
"Do you think they will?"
A huge explosion rocked the hut, and all three of them were thrown to the floor. Xandros rolled over to where she'd fallen from the chair. He put his hand over her mouth. “I think they have."