Wind Demon Triology: Book II: Evil Wind (24 page)

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Authors: Charlotte Boyett-Compo

BOOK: Wind Demon Triology: Book II: Evil Wind
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"How did you discover the code name?” Cree asked as the titanium doors began to creak open.

"It was Hael who thought of it. She knew all about what Dr. Jarl had discovered in the rain forest,” Kym replied.

"Yet she kept up the lie that it was my dam's curse that had made me and my bloodkin what we are,” Cree growled.

"She called herself protecting Sejm, I'm sure,” Kym said.

"What happened to Cean?” he asked.

Kym shrugged. “I believe he went back to wherever it was from which he came. There is no mention of him after you and your bloodcousins were introduced to one another."

"So he could be somewhere in the megaverse with the knowledge and possibly the wherewithal to be making more Reapers."

"The thought did cross my mind,” Kym said.

Once more unrelieved darkness showed behind the opened doors. Kym had placed herself to one side—facing Cree—with one hand inside the room.

"Before I turn on the lights, I want you to know that I have the exact coordinates of this room on a disklette. When you leave Rysalia Prime, I want you to lock onto this room and destroy everything within it. Make sure nothing remains of its contents.” She held his gaze. “Do you understand, Kamerone? Nothing within this room must survive your leaving."

He nodded. A cold worm of premonition crawled down his spine and he shuddered. When Kym turned the lights on in the vast room lurking behind the ebon darkness, his eyes widened and he sucked in a horrified breath.

"There are seven vats,” he heard Kym saying as she turned and moved into the room. “Over a thousand beakers and probably triple that amount in petri dishes."

Stunned, the Reaper moved into the room, unnerved by the sight that stretched out in front of him. Row upon row of glass beakers, vats, and incubated petri dishes sat under pale pink lights on glass shelving. The superheated room wreaked of sulfurous fumes that made his eyes water and his belly roil. Pressure pushed down upon him so that it was difficult to lift one foot ahead of the other. The heat made it difficult to draw breath. Each vat and beaker contained a cloudy liquid that hid what floated within it. Only a vague shadow shown behind the opaque fluid and waves of undulating light played along the steel walls, making the room appear to be under water.

"Merciful Alel,” Cree said, running a hand over his suddenly sweaty face.

Off to one side of the room was a laboratory with shining stainless steel counters and equipment the Reaper could not name.

"They were planning an army of warriors,” Kym said quietly as Cree walked up to one of the life-sized vats. She watched him as he stared at the label attached to the bottom of the vat.

"This is unreal,” he whispered and moved back as the shadow within the vat shifted.

"Hael was ecstatic when she found the specimens,” Kym said as she came to stand beside him. “She was gearing up to begin working with what she'd found here. As soon as she returned from Terra and had you in this room, she intended to remove your parasite and begin transplantation into carefully chosen subjects. She, too, was planning an army of super warriors."

"Women warriors,” he said quietly.

"Indeed, thousands of them."

The vat before which he stood shook on its base and the shadowy content pressed against the glass. Never having seen a fully-grown parasite, a revenant worm, Cree was taken aback by the repulsive sight that glared at him from beyond the glass barrier.

It was a long, willowy creature with stubby wings and a tail curled like that of a seahorse. Glowing a putrid green color, the queen had a triangular head covered in warts. Its red eyes shone with an unholy light as it stared back at the Reaper and now and again a forked tongue would flick from between rows of sharp fangs to touch the glass.

"My sire!"
the creature hissed and the sound was like that of a swarm of angry bees.

With a groan of disgust, Cree staggered back from the hideous creature and fled the room. Kym found him beyond the double titanium doors, bending over with a pool of vomit at his booted feet. She put her hand to his back and patted him.

"These abominations must be destroyed,” she told him.

"Aye,” the Reaper agreed and put up a trembling hand to wipe his mouth.

Kym closed the doors on the hidden laboratory, sealing in the thousands of parasites that awaited a host. When she turned around, she found she was alone. Cree had gone back into her office. He was sitting before her desk, his face in his hands when she joined him.

"Are you all right?” she asked.

"No,” he bit out, “and I never will be until those things are destroyed."

"As I said, I will give Kahmal the disklette with the room's coordinates. Make sure she wipes that room off the face of Rysalia Prime."

"Count on it,” he growled. He lifted his head, his fingers covering the lower portion of his face. “Were the plants on Ruesello destroyed?"

Kym shrugged. “Sejm says so in his journal, but I would not take his word for it."

"Perhaps a flyby of the rainforest and a purging of all the plant life there would be in order,” Cree said grimly, hating the thought of the destruction of the flora and fauna on that world.

"I'll see to it,” Kym said.

"You said something about phobias,” he reminded her. “What kind of phobias?"

Kym came to stand behind him and put her hands gently on his shoulders. “Such as your fear of running water,” she said. “Sejm had a debilitating fear of water and never learned to swim. Because he couldn't do it, he didn't want you boys to be able to do it, either."

"But the parasite..."

"Was indoctrinated right along with you,” Kym told him. “It, too, was a fledgling, Kamerone. It learned as you did. Told it would die, it believed the handler and has kept you from water."

"I can learn to swim?” he asked, knowing how much Bridget loved the water, but he would never allow her near it.

"Aye, you can. There is also the restriction about Reapers having only one mate. That was part of the indoctrination as you gained puberty. That prohibition had meaning only for Jarl, I suspect. He believed firmly in monogamy. Being able to make love to as many women as you like is completely possible."

"That's how he was able to mate with the Amazeen!” Cree whispered.

"Who?” Kym asked.

"He never went through the indoctrination at puberty so he didn't know he wasn't supposed to have the second one, the one he chose as his mate. It makes perfect sense to me now."

"Who are you talking about, Kamerone?” Kym repeated.

"It's not important.” Cree's jaw tightened. “What other lies did they feed us?"

"Only one that really matters,” Kym said as she slid her arms over his chest and held him. “There was no reason you could not have picked up your son and held him, Kamerone. You would not have done harm to the child. I can only surmise why such a hateful restriction was added to the others. My feeling is it was meant to control any tender feelings you might have developed should you ever encounter one of your bloodsons."

Terrible grief welled up inside the Reaper. “I could have held my Jaelin?” he asked in a wounded voice.

"Aye, Kamerone,” she replied. “You could have."

"Female offspring?” he asked, knowing how much Bridie wanted a little girl. “Can a Reaper give his lady a girl child?"

"I'm afraid that is one restriction that will always be. The original parasites were instructed to kill female zygotes and nothing can undo that, I'm afraid. The restriction is passed down from parasite to parasite. Sejm hated women and he had no use for them in his world so he didn't want his super warriors capable of producing warrior women. He would have been turning over in his grave had he known what Hael had planned."

"The sons-of-bitches,” Cree said. His headache was a crushing evil intent on rendering him unconscious with the agony it was producing. The extra Triso had made hardly any dent in the pain, but finally had squelched the nausea that had been rising up his throat.

"Are you still hurting?” Kym asked.

"What does it matter?” he countered. There was far more pain in his heart at that moment than in his physical body. He almost longed for unconsciousness so he would not have to think about the lost opportunities to hold his infant son.

Kym took her arms from around him and reached into her pocket for the second vac-syringe she had prepared for him. Not bothering to seek his permission, she felt along the left side of his neck for the throbbing vein and delivered the payload into his neck before he could stop her.

"Damn!” Cree cursed, slapping a hand to the stinging pain so quickly Kym barely had time to remove the needle from his flesh. “What did you do...?"

The Reaper would have tumbled from the chair had Kym not reached out to keep him from pitching forward. She smiled as she smoothed the hair from his forehead. “I remember that day as clearly as though it were yesterday,” she said.

It had been on Level Twelve of FSK-12 where she and Beryla Dean had found Cree in fierce battle. She'd stared as twelve Keepers, and just as many lower-ranking Shepherds did their best to keep an enraged Kamerone Cree from making his way down the corridor to Tylan Kahn's private quarters. Three men lay on the floor with broken jaws slung to one side; two nursed broken wrists, one a twice-broken arm; and three more were bent over, retching on the floor as they gingerly cradled their private parts in trembling hands. Not one of the security enforcers had been left unscathed by the swinging feet and punishing fists of the Reaper. Blood was splattered on the walls from smashed noses and broken teeth and the floor was slick with sweat and something the chemist didn't want to name. Even as she gaped at the ruckus taking place before her, Kym saw four men attempting to bring down the enraged warrior with their energy prods.

"He is very impressive,” Kym had whispered.

"Yes, but I have to put a stop to this before he kills someone,” the Director had stressed as she uncapped the two syringes in her hand, gripped them in her fists—needles pointed toward the floor, her thumb over the two plungers. She waited until Cree had been driven to his knees from a dual jolt of two energy prods then stepped forward and drove the needles deep into the flesh between his shoulder and his neck.

Cree felt the sting, slapped a hand up to his injured neck and bellowed with rage as he twisted beneath three quick jolts of electricity going through him. He saw Dr. Dean standing over him, he saw the syringes in her hand, looked up into her eyes with surprise.

"What did you do to me?” he asked before the lights went off and the floor dropped out from under him.

"You were such an imposing sight, my warrior,” Kym told him. “I will remember that day all my life,” she grinned. “And you aren't going to be any happier with me when you wake up than you were on that day."

Making sure he wouldn't fall out of the chair, she called her secretary on the vid-com and asked her to send for the two Amazeens who had brought Cree to her office, bidding them to bring two more so they could carry the Reaper back to his cage.

When Chanz and Aegean arrived with Deon and Tyrian, Cree was snoring lightly, his head on his chest.

"What happened?” Chanz asked.

"His headache had become so bad I had to put him out,” Kym replied. “He'll be quite the handful when he wakes up if history repeats itself.” She nodded toward the litter she'd had brought to her office while she waited for the Amazeens. “Be gentle with him, ladies."

"He's going to be as mad as a Serenian hornet fly that you knocked him out,” Aegean remarked as she and Chanz lifted the unconscious Reaper between them, staggering beneath his dead weight.

"Just remind him I won't be giving him any hephastiox this time around to make him gag,” Kym said with a laugh. “That should partially appease his sense of betrayal."

It took all four women to carry the four-handled litter back to the cage. Those Daughters the Amazeen's passed down the corridors of Fleet Command and along the pathway outside, inquired—anxiously, it seemed to Chanz—of the Reaper's health.

"He'll be all right,” Chanz assured them.

"He hasn't been tortured has he?” one woman asked, her eyes flashing.

Chanz looked at the woman. “No, why would you think he would be?"

"The Prophetess-Mother has no love for the Iceman,” another woman said. “Nothing could be put past her in regards to him."

"Don't call him that,” Chanz said. “He hates that nickname."

"My pardon,” the woman said, her gaze going to the unconscious Reaper. “I would do nothing to hurt him more than he has already been hurt."

They had reached the cage and Chanz had to fumble in the pocket of her jumpsuit for the keys to the Reaper's enclosure. She was straining to hold her handle of the litter and try to unlock the cage at the same time.

"Let me help,” the first woman who had spoken offered and rushed forward to take the key from Chanz. She made quick work of opening the cell and pulled open the door, stepping aside for the Amazeen's to take the unconscious Reaper inside.

"Thank you, Daughter,” Chanz mumbled.

"It is good to see someone provided a pillow and blanket for him,” another woman said.

"Aye,” Chanz concurred.

Placing the litter on the concrete floor, the Amazeens carefully lifted Cree and placed him on the blanket, his head upon the pillow. They exited the cage and Chanz locked it again, pocketing the key.

"Why is he unconscious though?” someone asked.

"Dr. Kym gave him a med for his migraine,” Chanz answered and watched those around her nodding with understanding.

"That is good,” the one who had asked agreed. “I had heard he had debilitating headaches."

"All Reapers do,” another said knowingly.

As the Amazeens made their way back toward Fleet Command, they saw other women converging in front of the cage. None seemed a threat to the sleeping Reaper.

"You think he'll be all right?” Aegean asked.

"I believe so,” Chanz answered. “The goddess is keeping our Reaper safe."

Chapter Fifteen

Caitlin had been searching for her husband and found him staring out one of the
DarkWind's
portholes, his head against the thick plexiform. The cybot he had programmed was standing twenty feet away, keeping watch on its master.

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