Men of Anderas II: Dak the Protector (17 page)

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Authors: Cheryl Johnson

Tags: #futuristic, #slave, #futuristic romance, #slave auction, #captive, #auction, #sci fi romance, #alpha male, #dak, #anderas

BOOK: Men of Anderas II: Dak the Protector
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There were no faucets, no visible means of
filling the tub with water. Dak would cut out his tongue before he
asked her for help. He was a reasonably intelligent man. How
complex could it be to take a bath?

The only items not made from the same pale
grey stone were three large, black crystals placed along the rim of
the bowl where it met the wall.
What did you expect; a crystal
witch designed the place. A genius crystal witch
. Dak reached
for the first crystal. With just a slight hesitation, he gripped
the stone and twisted his wrist. Nothing. It didn’t even wiggle. He
tried to pull, tilt and lift the crystal. Nothing. He repeated the
actions with the other two crystals with the same results. Nothing
happened. With a snort, he paced around the end of the tub and
back. A bathtub would not outdo him. A flash of memory no longer
than the blink of an eye brought a grin spreading across his face.
Flexing his fingers, he reached for the first stone again only this
time he let his mind do the work. Just like with the key to the
fortress, he imagined hot water filling the tub.

If he hadn’t recently experienced the
opening of the security system, he would have missed the slight
pulsing between the black crystals. As it was, he barely had time
to jerk his hand back before steaming water erupted from an opening
in the wall.

"A
little hot
this time of year?
Little witch, your flair for understatement is astounding." The
pool of water forming in the bottom of the bowl bubbled and boiled
as though heated by a hidden flame. Clouds of steam blurred his
vision, making it virtually impossible to see the crystals. Dak
knew he had to slow the flow of hot water, and to do that he had to
touch the crystal. Swatting at the thick fog with one hand, he
inched closer to the stream of water. Water didn't cover the
crystal, but there was enough of a splash over to scald his hand if
he weren’t careful. With quick jabs at the black crystal, he tried
to slow the water.

"Dammit.” He jerked his fingers out of the
range of hot water. The tub was filling rapidly. If he didn’t get
the water under control soon, he’d have to call Kierin. Gritting
his teeth, he thrust his hand into the steam. He only had a few
seconds at most so they had to count. At the same instant he felt
the faceted stone, he yelled, "Stop!"

The flow of water stopped. "Now. There’s got
to be a method to this process that doesn’t boil you alive.”
Remembering Kierin’s reaction to his over-kill when opening the
gate, Dak tempered his thoughts. Fingering the crystal farthest
away from where he stood, a trickle of cold water dripped into the
tub. A grin spread across his face as he increased the flow of
water until the water was cool enough for a bath. Peeling the
clothes from his body, he climbed into the tub, a deep sigh of
satisfaction mixing with the rising steam. Strange how something as
simple as figuring out the mechanics of a bathtub could make a man
feel like he’d conquered his world.

* * * *

Kierin knew her home well--every sound,
every shift in air flow. She’d lived here for more than twenty
years. The unique physical properties of the mountain prevented her
from actually tapping into Dak’s thoughts, but she knew where he
was by the changes around her. With him occupied for several
minutes, she made one last check on the dinner simmering by the
fire before slipping back to her own room.

This was the first time anyone except family
had been in her home and she tried to see it as Dak would. While
her father was a brilliant scientist, he was rather lacking in the
practical skills necessary to provide more than the most basic of
necessities. The few pieces of furniture they owned were payments
from the villagers who had more skill than gold to pay for the
herbs and medicines her family provided. Even the linens and
blankets came from grateful patrons.

Knowing Dak was used to more comforts than
she could offer, she’d taken advantage of his time in the stable to
drag the two mattresses from her brother’s room into her father’s.
With four thick layers of moss and lichen, he should sleep
comfortably. Her own bed was a rock ledge with a single mattress.
The only other items in the room were a mirror, a three-legged
stool and a large chest. It was this chest that was her
destination. Beneath the layers of clothing, wrapped in the faded
remains of her swaddling blanket, lay the answer to her
problems.

She made Dak a promise not to place any
crystals on him and she would honor that pledge. Kierin stroked the
soft pink material, wishing. Wishing her mother was alive to tell
her what to expect. Wishing her father and brother were alive so
she wouldn’t have to lie to Dak. Wishing she could make him
understand. Wishing dreams could come true. Wishing ….

Knowing she was running out of time, she
quickly unwrapped the small bundle. Nestled in the folds was a
necklace of finely woven copper threads. Suspended from the chain
was her birthstone. Her mother selected the deep orange crystal and
her father charged it. Every female crystal witch received a
similar stone on the day of her birth. The stones, chosen
specifically for each baby girl, would be carefully stored until
the day of her wedding.

Her father would stutter and turn red when
he tried to explain the details and effects of the stone, usually
ending by telling her he wished her mother were still alive. Kierin
felt there was much more to the tradition than what her father
managed to impart, but she knew enough to know that the stone
magnified all that was feminine in her. Her limited knowledge of
the sexual side of marriage was considerably richer since Dak came
into her world. Were men from her home world different from
Anderans? Did they require special stimulation? Nothing in her
experience with Dak made her doubt his interest. It was his honor
that was her problem.

Slipping the chain over her neck, she felt
the last of her foolish dreams and wishes shatter. Blinking rapidly
to prevent the tears burning her eyes from falling, she sent a
silent prayer to the Goddess of Goodness and Light.
Please, oh
please, give me the strength to go through with this. I never
thought it would end this way. Help him to understand. I have no
choice.

Chapter Thirteen

Dak felt good. The hot bath had eased the
ache of overused muscles and Kierin’s dinner was delicious even
with no meat. He’d have to work on that tomorrow. He was finishing
off his third helping of dessert when he noticed Kierin’s grin.

"What?” He demanded, feeling self-conscious.
Did he have food on his face?

"You don’t strike me as a dessert-fanatic.
There’s not an ounce of fat on you anywhere."

"Been checking out the territory, little
witch?” Dak winked, a slow smile spreading across his face when she
blushed. "I’ve always had a serious sweet tooth and it’s been a
long time since I’ve been offered anything so tempting."

"It’s just stewed fruit and dumplings. It
was Rian’s favorite."

"Well, it’s very good. The whole meal was
great. Thank you."

Her voice softened when she mentioned
Rian
. Dak didn’t like it and it took every atom of will
power he possessed to prevent him asking her about
Rian.
So what if she has a man in her life. It’s none of your
business. Let
Rian g
ive her the son she wants so badly
.
He refused to think about why that idea soured his stomach.

"One of the villages on our route is famous
for their pastries. Rian would always volunteer to make deliveries
there just in case someone wanted to barter. My brother was a
shameless beggar when it came to anything sweet."

Her brother? Rian was her
brother
!

Dak pushed his plate aside and settled back
with a sigh. Kierin cleared the dishes from the table and brought
him a fresh cup of hot tea. At home, on Anderas, he seldom drank
anything but the sweet, dark, red wine made famous by the earliest
settlers. In just a few days, he’d come to expect the comforting
warmth of Kierin’s teas. Strange, the way life’s paths suddenly
changed without any warning, altering all the plans and goals that
seemed so solid just heartbeats before. Time to throw a detour into
Kierin’s life.

"So, little witch," Dak waited until she
looked at him, "tell me about your father’s crime."

Kierin knew this would come. She’d put him
off as long as she could. Slipping her hands into her lap to hide
their trembling, she drew a ragged breath and let the memories
flood her heart.

"My father was a research scientist--one of
the best. He was brilliant. For several decades the growth of
crystals on the home world has been in a decline. There were dozens
of possible explanations. Nothing based on fact, but the end result
was the same with each. Before the end of the next millennium,
crystal growth would cease completely.

"My father felt it was possible to create
man-made crystals with all the properties of their natural
counterparts and without the need for constant recharging. It
became an obsession with him. When he made his first breakthrough,
he reported his findings as required by law. He warned that it was
too early to be certain of success, but he was optimistic."

Kierin swallowed past the lump in her
throat. She had never shared this part of her life with anyone
except her immediate family. Grief, locked away for so many years,
threatened to choke her. She wiped at the tears she couldn’t
prevent.

"My m-mother worked from home after I was
born. Rian was eight-years-old and already showing signs of
following in my father’s steps. She wanted to monitor his education
closer than she could if she spent all day at the laboratory with
my father. It worked well for all of us until my father succeeded
in developing the crystal.

"There had been some subtle suggestions from
the government about possible military uses for such a crystal. The
potential was limitless. Where my father saw an endless energy
supply for industry, or a heat source for a frozen planet, the
Council saw a weapon. A weapon of such massive destructive force,
that we would be invincible. The interest of the Warlords became
more and more persistent, more demanding.

"Just before my fifth birthday, the Warlords
came and took us to their headquarters. They took Mother to one of
the private areas but Rian and I stayed in a windowless room. I
have no idea how long they kept us prisoner. To a child, five
minutes can be an eternity. When they finally brought Mother to us,
we could see that she had been crying. She was so quiet on the trip
home. That night, when she told Father about what happened, they
began planning our escape. They knew the harassment would continue
to escalate until the Warlords got their hands on the crystal. My
father never knew who betrayed him, but someone in his lab told the
Warlords that my father was successful in his efforts. Father
denied the charge, claimed it was an attempt to discredit his
research by forcing him to demonstrate a failure. The Warlords
apparently believed him, but they followed us everywhere and at odd
times of the day or night, a Warlord would come and demand to see
everyone in the household. As a precaution, my father increased the
blocking power of the cloaking crystals and brought us to the lab
with him every day."

She could no longer control the tremors
racking her body. A child’s terror, locked in the memory of an
adult, was no less horrifying--no easier to rationalize. Wrapping
her arms tightly around herself, Kierin rocked against the back of
the chair, much like Rian once rocked her. He’d shared her pain
then. Now, she was alone.

"Rian would keep me entertained by playing
cloak and track
with me. He would close his eyes and count
while I ran and hid, then he would come looking for me."

"On Anderas, that game is called
hide and
seek
.” Dak whispered, softly.

"I didn’t know until years later that we
were setting the stage for our escape. Sometimes my parents would
join us in the game. Everyone working at the lab became so
accustomed to seeing us sneaking around or climbing into storage
bins that no one paid any attention to us.

"One morning, Mother gave me a doll. It was
a pathetic little thing, all floppy and plain and made of scraps of
cloth. But she told me a story about how lonely and scared the doll
was and that I would have to keep her with me all the time. Later,
when Rian and I went to hide, I knew the game was different
somehow. When Mother found us, we didn’t jump up and laugh as we
usually did. She just hugged us and said we had to be very, very
quiet and wait for Father to join us."

Every whispered word burned like acid across
her tongue. Not in twenty years had she uttered a word about that
day. The memories were far too painful.

"I was sleeping in her lap when someone
knocked on the wall of the storage bin and told us the Warlords
were searching the building for us. Whoever it was must have
figured out what we were really doing and tried to warn us. We
heard the same knock on the storage bin behind us. Mother told us
to pretend we were still playing the game but not to leave the bin.
She climbed out just seconds before the Warlords entered the
chamber. They took her away. It was a long time before my father
joined us. Rian told him about the Warlords and he got so upset.
Before he could climb out of the bin, an explosion rocked the
building. He grabbed his chest and we thought he’d been hurt."

Kierin forced herself to meet Dak’s eyes.
There was no way she could make him understand what her father went
through.

"A crystal witch mates for life, Dak. It’s
not just words spoken or documents signed. It’s a true joining of
the souls. The truth was in my father’s eyes. That explosion had
ripped his soul apart. My mother was dead."

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