Shadowed: Brides of the Kindred book 8 (16 page)

“Not your fault.” He sighed. “It’s mine. Just can’t help getting hard when I’m being touched by such a gorgeous female.” He barked a laugh. “And it doesn’t help that this is the most action I’ve seen in about ten years.”

“Ten
years?”
Nina looked at him in disbelief. “Did you take a vow of celibacy or something?”

“Something like that.” He cleared his throat. “You should probably put the med kit back. We might need it sometime in the future.”

“Oh, right—the first aid kit. I will. But first, which one of these is an antibiotic cream? Something to fight germs? I need to put some on your forehead.”

“No you don’t.” He frowned. “Kindred are fast healers. You cleaned the cut—that’s enough.”

Nina opened her mouth to protest, but a closer look at the cut over his eye revealed that it was, in fact, healing nicely already. Wow, the Kindred must have really excellent immune systems.

“I’ll put up all but the gloves,” she said, closing the med kit. “I’m sure I’ll need them in, uh, in the future.” She could feel her cheeks getting hot as she said it, but it was already out. Of
course
she was going to need them—to put him back in place. If his shaft ever went down, that was. But a quick, sideways glance at his crotch told her that particular task needed to wait a while longer.

He saw the direction her eyes went and shrugged. “Sorry. Not ready yet.”

“Uh, I guess not.” Nina hurriedly gathered the square first aid box and rose, meaning to put it back exactly where she’d found it. But when she opened the cabinet she’d thought was the right one, she saw something else instead. “Wow,” she muttered. “What’s this?”

“What’s what?” Reddix wanted to know.

“This thing I found.” Lying on what looked like a black velvet pillow was the strangest piece of jewelry Nina had ever seen. It appeared to be some kind of choker necklace made of filigreed black metal and set with red, green, and blue lights. The lights blinked slowly, almost sleepily, as though the thing was resting—although why Nina would get such an idea about an inanimate object, she didn’t know. Lying beside the black velvet pillow was a small rectangular object that looked to Nina like something that might belong on a key ring. It was made of the same black filigreed metal as the choker, and it had three lighted buttons, which seemed to correspond to the lights on it—red, green, and blue.

“What is it? What did you find?” Reddix asked again.

“This.” Nina was strangely reluctant to touch it, but there was no other way to show him what she was talking about. She was glad she was still wearing the gloves. Setting the first aid kit down on the floor, she carefully lifted the black metal choker from the pillow and pulled it out of the cabinet. “See?” she asked, bringing it closer to his face.

“Holy Goddess!” he growled and threw himself backward, as far from the black metal choker as he could. “Get away from that fucking thing, Nina! Put it down and don’t touch it again!”

Nina didn’t ask why—his reaction was strong enough to override any sense of curiosity she might have about the necklace. She put it back on its pillow at once, noticing as she did so, that the lights seemed to be blinking faster now, almost as though she’d woken the thing up by handling it. But that was another silly thought—wasn’t it?

“What is it?” she asked, turned to Reddix when the choker was safely back in the cabinet with the door closed. “And why did you get so upset?”

“It’s a Goddess damned Hurkon agony collar.” He shook his head, his face pale. “What in the Seven Hells is something like
that
doing on board this ship? What kind of a monster were they transporting that they needed a Hurkon collar to keep the fucker down?”

“And agony collar? What’s that?” Nina asked.

“Exactly what it sounds like, sweetheart,” Reddix growled. “You put it on your prisoner and press the pretty shiny buttons. It activates all the pain centers in the brain—causes extreme physical pain and anguish.”

“So…another restraining device. Kind of like the cuffs?” She nodded at his wrists.

“No, nothing like them,” Reddix said. “The restraints are specially made to fit snug to a prisoner’s wrists and restrain them without actually hurting them. I never would have used them on you, otherwise. I’m not into causing pain.”

“Oh.” Nina bit her lip. “And the collar?”

“The Hurkon collar is all about pain. It’s designed to cause the maximum amount of agony and unlike the cuffs, it’s sentient.”

“Sentient?” Nina frowned. “You mean it can actually think and reason and…?”

“And enjoy inflicting pain? Oh, yeah.” He nodded grimly. “The Hurkonians imbed a
gasher
inside each collar—a tiny tele-empathic creature that
wants
to cause agony because it feeds off extreme emotions.”

“Ugh. That’s
horrible
.” Nina shivered.

“It gets worse. Hurkon collars have been known to…well, let’s just say problems arise when they get hungry. You’re damn lucky you had on gloves when you handled it.”

Nina looked down at her still gloved hands, remembering the strange feeling she’d had that the choker thing was somehow aware of her.

“I guess I can thank you for that.” She gave Reddix a small smile.

“Yeah, guess so. Speaking of which.” He nodded down between his legs. “I don’t think you’ll have any problem, uh, putting things back in place now.”

Nina followed his gaze with her own. “Oh, you’re all, uh, unexcited now,” she said, feeling her cheeks get hot again.

“Yeah, well…” Reddix shrugged. “Having a Hurkon agony collar shoved in my face tends to kill the mood for me. Now how about helping me out, sweetheart? But first, make sure that cabinet is shut tight. I don’t like the idea of that thing having any way to get out.”

Chapter Thirteen

Reddix still couldn’t figure out what kind of prisoner his brother Kindred might have been transporting who would have rated a Hurkon agony collar. Whoever he was, he must be one evil son-of-a-bitch. The collars were mercifully rare and very expensive, not to mention being notoriously hard to handle. They could be placed in a state of suspended animation, but once awoken, they tended to be hungry and restless. Hopefully it would go back to sleep now that Nina had put it back in the dark.

He wished there was a lock on the cabinet door where the damn thing was kept. To think that he and Nina had been sitting here all this time with no idea of what was sharing the ship with them… It was fucking unnerving to say the least.

After Nina finished putting his shaft back in place and closing the mango-tabs on his flight trousers, Reddix sighed and tried to put the collar out of his mind. After all, it wasn’t like the collar was the first darkness he’d had to deal with. His bargain with the swamp witch leapt nimbly to mind especially now that her mark on his inner wrist had been activated. The blood red
lthss
was growing larger every hour now that it had tasted Nina’s blood when he first grabbed her. He hadn’t thought of it earlier, but the burning on his wrist and the encounter with the Hurkon collar reminded him. The swamp witch’s words returned to him…

“You’ll have a few solar weeks to get back to me. If you take longer than that, the lthss will begin feeding on
you
. Now that wouldn’t be pleasant, would it?”

Reddix sighed and shifted restlessly. How long would they be stranded on this planet, wherever it was? Forever unless he somehow convinced Nina to trust him enough to let him out of the cuffs. Although to be honest, he didn’t blame her for keeping him restrained—not when he’d admitted he still had plans for her. Guilt tried to rise in him at the thought, and he shoved it back down mercilessly. He had to think of his little sister Minda, already big with child. Had to think of his people embroiled in another bloody civil war if he couldn’t do what had to be done. And in order to do that, he needed Nina…needed her to trust him.

An idea about that began to surface, a way to gain her trust without lying to her…But no, that was crazy. He couldn’t risk—

“Well, it’s late. I guess…guess I’ll turn in.” Nina’s soft voice broke into his tumultuous thoughts.

He sighed. “Yeah, you do that sweetheart. Go ahead—there’s a sleeping compartment in the back of the ship. You should be comfortable there.”

“But…well…” She hesitated, biting her lip. “Is there anything I can do to, uh, make you more comfortable? I mean, do you want a pillow…”

Reddix barked a laugh. “There you go again—being nice to me when I’m a kidnapping son-of-a-bitch. You ought to stop, Nina. I’m nothing but trouble for you—nothing but pain.”

She lifted her chin, and a defiant look came into her lovely blue and gold-flecked eyes. “I know that. But I told you—I can’t stand to see anyone hurting. It…bothers me.”

“Get over it,” Reddix said harshly. The fact that she was still concerned with his comfort while he was plotting to take her to the swamp witch gave him a sharp stab of guilt he couldn’t repress no matter how hard he tried. “Go to bed. Get some sleep.”

“Fine.” She crossed her arms over her breasts and frowned. “I guess I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Fine. Whatever.” He looked away, forcing himself to keep his eyes off her ass this time as she went to the back of the ship. Why did he feel the need to provoke her? To push her buttons? To warn her that he would cause her nothing but pain?

She’s sweet and kind and compassionate and brave. She deserves better than this,
he thought, sinking his chin to his chest and heaving a sigh.
A hell of a lot better. I really am a bastard.

It wasn’t the first time he’d fallen asleep with thoughts of self-hatred running through his head, but when his guilty conscience finally let him sleep, he had the strangest dream…

* * * * *

“Careful with that crate! That’s live cargo, y’know!” A guard with a silver pain prod in one of his three sets of hands nodded warily at the thick, steel-wood slats of the massive cage. It was being lifted by hydro-blasts from the ship’s cargo hold, and the guard holding the controls wasn’t doing a very good job.

“Yeah, yeah—I know what it is,” the second guard growled, twisting the hover-knob to bring the cage higher and clear the ship’s hull. “Don’t worry—I know her worshipfulness, Lady Pope’nose wants him intact.”

“You don’t get it,” the first guard protested. “It’s the crate itself I’m worried about—you bash it around too much it’ll bust open. And then we’ll have to deal with the contents, y’know?”

“So what? It’s just another prisoner from the inner system,” the second one scoffed. “More meat for the Yonnie Six vag-mills.” He scratched his ear tufts with one of his six arms. “Sure am glad these bitches don’t find our kind attractive. I’d rather be dead than let some female subjugate me.”

“That’s exactly how these prisoners we bring them feel,” the first guard said grimly. “And you
will
be dead if he gets out. You know how many opponents this son-of-a-bitch put in the ground?
One hundred and thirty-seven.
More kills than any other slave on the Blood Circuit.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. They say he was unstoppable. And what’s more, he’s got a few more kills that
weren’t
sanctioned if you know what I mean. This bastard’s a class eight felon.”

“Class eight? Never seen a class eight before. The worse I ever transported was a six.” The second guard looked at the wooden cage he was guiding with more respect

“I did a seven once. Eight’s almost unheard of. That’s also why he’s been drugged to the gills with Ionian cluster juice.” The first guard shook his head. “I’ll be damned glad to drop this one off—just wish we had the Hurkon collar we were promised to deal with him.”

“I wondered about that,” the second one said. “Whatever happened to it? Thought we weren’t going to transport him without it.”

The first guard shrugged one of his three sets of shoulders. “Don’t know. Held up somewhere outside the system. Boss said go ahead with the transport anyway. I think Pope’nose must have paid him a shitload of credit to make the deal go through. He was supposed to go to the lockdown, but she wanted him as her personal slave.”

“Good thing the bastard is knocked out. Probably won’t be too happy when he wakes up and realizes he’s been put out to stud with a bitch like Pope’nose. He—” As the second guard spoke, something moved inside the cage. Spooked by the shifting contents and the flash of bright and angry eyes he saw between the slats, the guard jerked, dropping the hydro-blast controls. The cage immediately began to shift on its bed of closely controlled mist.

“Hey, watch it!” the first guard shouted, but the cage had already rammed a corner into the side of the cargo hold. The second guard grabbed for the controls with all six hands, fumbled and dropped them, ramming the cage again. The steel-wood slats gave an audible
crack
as some of them began to splinter and buckle. A massive hand appeared between them, groping for freedom.

“Goddess of Mercy…” The second guard gasped. “Your blaster—get it ready!”

“I’ve got it.” The first guard had his weapon trained on the ever-widening hole in the crate. “I’ll put him down for good if he tries anythi—”

His words were interrupted by a low, angry roar from the crate. Suddenly, the steel-wood slats burst apart as though they were no stronger than sugar sticks one might give to a youngling.

The prisoner was free.

“Shoot it!” the second guard screamed. “Shoot it—
shoot it!”

His only answer was a gurgle. Turning his head, he saw a thick stake of steel-wood protruding from the other guard’s neck. Green blood poured from the severed vessels, coating all six hands and the blaster as the first guard sank helplessly to his four knees.