Forbidden Worlds - Box Set (20 page)

* * * *

The pain began as soon as the sedatives they’d given her wore off. Charity sat on the edge of her bed, moaning.

Outside her window, the Antarean moon popped over the horizon, casting the grounds of the A’Kosu compound in a wan, bluish light. Days here were short, only sixteen hours from sunrise to sunrise, and in half that time, Charity had gone from feeling nearly recovered to certain she was about to die.

She jumped when A’Kosu’an placed a hand on her shoulder. “What is it?”

“Something is very wrong. I think maybe the synthetic blood isn’t working.” Charity sank down onto the mattress and crawled toward the pillows. She stretched her shivering body out while A’Kosu’an opened her bandages.

“The wound is healing on schedule. Your skin is cool and dry and of a proper color for a healthy human. Where does the pain originate?”

“Here.” Charity pointed to the spot above her navel where a hot blade seemed to twist in her innards.

A’Kosu’an poked and prodded as doctors everywhere did. She frowned and hummed and muttered to herself, then poised her large hands over Charity’s stomach. A stab of panic clouded the soothing vibrations emanating from the Antarean’s hands and had Charity struggling to sit up. “It can’t be. I’m not...
pregnant
, am I?”

Just as she had at the mention of Kol’s name, A’Kosu’an stilled. Her wide hands fluttered for a moment, then resumed the gentle movements over Charity’s belly. “Forgive me. I thought for a moment you meant you had mated with A’Kosu’ri. I shouldn’t have assumed you did not have a mate elsewhere.”

“I did. I mean, I have.
We
have. But he told me he didn’t think we were genetically compatible.”

Now A’Kosu’an stopped her treatment. Her hands fell to her sides. “You are not. There is no pregnancy, but there is something else.”

Charity groaned. “Oh, no. Don’t tell me I’ve got some alien parasite growing in my gut?”

“You have A’Kosu’ri. This pain has no physiological cause. It’s unrelated to your injury. Therefore it must relate to your separation from your mate.”

Now Charity did sit up. “I don’t have a mate.”

“Your body says otherwise.”

“What are you talking about?”

A’Kosu’an stood back and crossed her arms over her chest. For a moment Charity wondered if the Antarean woman might be jealous, but she looked so much like Kol it seemed more likely they were siblings or cousins than lovers. “It’s best if A’Kosu’ri explains this to you. You should be with him before either of you become more uncomfortable.”

A’Kosu’an left the alcove with a flourish of the fabric curtain, and in her wake, Charity doubled over and rubbed her aching stomach. This made no sense. What could Kol have done to her to make her feel like this? Hopefully the medic had gone to fetch him and he’d be able to clear up all this mysterious Antarean doublespeak. In the meantime, though, Charity could do nothing but lie on her narrow bed in agony and wait for him to come to her.

* * * *

“I will not go.” Kol crossed his arms over his chest and attempted to stare down A’Kosu’an. Her true name was Gia, but even those closest to her rarely used it, as she preferred her medical title.

“This is a mating bond. There’s no need for both of you to suffer. Come to the infirmary for the night, and in the morning, if you are both well, I will dismiss you.”

“If this was a mating bond—and it’s not—but if it
was
, our being together now would only strengthen it. In the end, if the Elders choose to turn Charity over to the Valencian authorities, the pain of separation would kill us both.”

“Kol, you’ve given her your name. You’ve filled her. How can you deny the mating bond?”

“Because of the look in your eyes, Gia. You, each of the Elders, even Barok. You are all appalled by my actions and more than a little concerned by the fact that I’ve brought a human home to the compound. To pursue such a bond would shame us both.”

A’Kosu’an threw her hands in the air. “If that’s how you feel about mating with a human, why did you? Surely that tiny female didn’t hold you down and force herself on you.”

Kol silenced her with a warning glance. “It was not a choice either of us made. Lebron...the planet forced us.”

A’Kosu’an laughed. “I’ve heard many excuses for thoughtless copulation before, but that—”

“There was a pollen fall. Spore from the trees covered the area where we crashed. I explained it all to Barok earlier.” Kol strode across his room and returned with the shirt he’d worn on the planet. It still bore yellow smudges of the infernal dust and smelled rather strongly of...sex.

A’Kosu’an raised a brow and contemplated the shirt. “Pollen?”

“Yes. Clouds of it. It made all the higher mammals rut and we, being higher mammals, did the same.”

“May I have this shirt to take samples?”

“Take it. You may burn it when you’re finished. I never want to smell that scent again.”

“It is rather pungent.”

“Perhaps you can make an antidote.”

A’Kosu’an frowned. “That’s unlikely. It doesn’t matter how the bond came to be. If it exists, it can’t be denied.”

“No.” Kol opened the door of his quarters and bowed to A’Kosu’an, a polite but unmistakable dismissal. “But it can be broken.”

Long after A’Kosu’an left, Kol lay in his bed cursing his visions.

Until this mission he’d always considered them a gift. The Antarean colonists had found ways to extend their life spans and ensure good health. They’d bred the visions into their warriors to aid in battle and into their leaders in hopes they would be able to see the outcome of political decisions. The mating bond had assured loyalty among couples to strengthen bloodlines and keep families strong.

Today these gifts seemed like curses, not because he didn’t long for Charity’s touch, her unique taste and scent and the feel of her supple body in his arms, but because he could not justify the pain she would suffer if the Elders forced her to leave Antares.

He’d read of cases where the mating bond could be severed by less drastic means than the ritual betrayal enacted before the Council. Breaking the bond would bring its own brand of shame to his lineage, but at least Charity would be free to leave the compound and escape Gar Gremin’s wrath.

Kol tossed and turned and his stomach knotted. Sweat drenched him, making the thin sheets of his bed cling to his body.

He saw her standing before him in the darkness, her body nothing more than a silhouette. He sensed her reach for him and his body responded, readying for her, hardening in anticipation of plunging in to her willing heat.

Her voice echoed in his mind. “Tie me up again before you do it, just do it!”

He couldn’t deny her or himself any longer. He took her eagerly and with no thought to the consequences. The ecstasy of sinking his aching sex into her body replaced all logical thought and each thrust brought him closer to the relief he’d been begging for all day.

He woke gasping. His right hand, clenched around his still pulsing cock, was sticky with his own release. His body trembled with the force of it, and still his gut ached for her.

* * * *

Charity braced herself on the ornate door jamb outside of Kol’s quarters. Had she been in better condition, she might have been able to appreciate the intricate Antarean architecture and the sense of aesthetics and efficiency with which the tribal village had been constructed.

Unfortunately the short walk at dawn through the pastoral gardens and serene landscapes from the infirmary to Kol’s quarters had been made in haste and terrible discomfort. A’Kosu’an had left Charity on Kol’s doorstep, like a discarded waif.

“The Council has deemed you A’Kosu’ri’s legal and moral responsibility,” the Antarean woman had said. “He must care for you until they conclude their investigation.”

Charity might have questioned A’Kosu’an, but it was all she could do to remain upright. She forced a long, determined breath out between clenched teeth and rapped on Kol’s heavy wooden door.

When the door swung open finally, Charity managed a tight smile. At least Kol had the decency to look as bad as she...had felt just a moment ago.

The sudden absence of pain staggered her, and she wobbled. Kol caught her, but rather than scoop her up in his arms, he merely set her on her feet and glared at her. “You should have stayed away.”

Charity growled and pushed past him into the luxurious suite he called home. Lightheaded with relief, she couldn’t decide if she wanted to dance, or kick his tight Antarean ass into next week.

“Can you please explain to me how I can feel a thousand percent better than I did a minute ago? I’ve been in agony all night long and they tell me it’s your fault.” She stabbed a finger into his brawny chest. “Goddess help me, if you don’t give me some answers that make sense, I will not be held responsible for what I do to you.”

Kol let out a breath and lowered himself to an overstuffed chair. Charity glanced around at the décor, which was palatial and masculine. The dark walls had a rich appearance. Heavy accents of color hung here and there amid the lacquer furniture. On a raised platform sat a huge square bed topped with a tangle of bright white sheets. He’d had a rough night, too, apparently.

“How can just seeing you make the pain go away?”

“The mating bond is controlled by a retrovirus introduced into the Antarean bloodlines ten generations ago.” His reply was stiff and instructional. He didn’t meet her gaze.

“So you gave me a virus?” Her lips clenched. A’Kosu’an had conveniently left that part out.

“Yes, but not intentionally. The mating bond isn’t supposed to cross species, or even tribes.”

Something about that didn’t sit right with Charity, but the joy of being without the persistent pain in her belly dulled her anger a bit. She lowered herself to the edge of the bed and leaned back on her elbows, appraising Kol from across the room. “Well, something went wrong. Now what happens? We get sick every time we’re apart?”

“Only in the beginning. The effect grows more manageable over time, but the psychological result is to ingrain in our minds a need to be together to ensure...propagation.”

“Propa...but we can’t get pregnant together. Right?”

“No.”

Charity squinted at him in the dimness. “No we can’t or no, I’m wrong?”

“No, we can’t.”

“Well, we weren’t supposed to have a mating bond either, were we?”

Kol shook his head. He leaned forward and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands for a moment. Rather than anger, Charity felt sympathy and a deep affection for him. She wanted to go to him and touch him, to run her hands over his shoulders and down the lean lines of his back.

“Ummm. Does this also mean we’re going to have sex every time we’re alone, too?”

“No.” He rose, his spine stiff, jaw set. “That would solidify the bond. As uncomfortable as it is, we should stay away from each other and hope the effect wears down.”

“What? And go through that kind of pain again? I don’t think I can. I was shot—” She lifted the hem of her shirt to show off her bandage. “And that pales in comparison.”

“We cannot have sex. We can stay in the same area, and just avoid physical contact.”

“That’s fine with me.” She threw herself back into the soft sheets. “I’m going to avoid you by going back to sleep. I was up all night, and I’m exhausted. Why don’t you call A’Kosu’an and find out if there’s some kind of vaccine we can take to kill this retrovirus before things get really unbearable.”

Kol stared at her for a moment as if she were some type of bug in a jar. Finally, he turned on his heel and strode away, tossing a final, biting comment over his shoulder. “Things already
are
unbearable.”

Chapter 10

Hot water cascaded over Kol’s head, drowning his thoughts and calming his nerves. While his bond mate slept, he’d done as she suggested and searched the medical archives for alternatives to the separation ritual. He’d found nothing useful.

He’d walked around the garden beyond his bedroom, putting as much distance as he dared between them and still he’d ended up at the foot of the bed, contemplating the curve of her thigh that peeked out amid folds of the white sheets. His cock had stirred at the memory of his last vision of her. Or had that been a dream? He couldn’t distinguish one from the other anymore. Before his desires got the best of him, he’d locked himself in the shower.

First cold water doused his rising heat, then hot soothed his tired body. When he finished here, he’d wake her and explain the ritual. Charity was strong and she was no stranger to hardship or pain. She might welcome any chance to break this unnatural bond, even if it meant more physical discomfort.

The next vision slammed into his senses, stronger and more feral than any that had come before. His knees buckled and he braced an arm against the wall to hold himself upright while ghostly images swam around him.

She clung to him, and sweat drenched their bodies. He’d just climaxed, and still his seed pumped within her. Her wide, golden eyes held him transfixed while she whispered his name...then the thunder of an explosion rocked them. They tumbled together, gripped by fear, and the startled cries of his tribe mates filled the air. Somewhere, a battle claxon sounded, rending the stillness of a pleasant afternoon, and then everything went dark.

He came back to himself with Charity standing over him. She looked soft and sleepy and her tawny eyes were full of concern.

“How did you get in here?” He waved away her offer of assistance and pulled himself up from the cold tiles. He didn’t remember sinking to the floor, but the shock of the terrible vision must have brought him to his knees.

“There’s an emergency override on the bathroom lock,” she said. “I heard a sound and I thought you’d slipped in the shower or something.”

“I’m fine. You can go back to sleep.” He wanted her out of his sight before his raging desires took over. The vision had cured nothing. He’d seen destruction and terror, yet still he wanted her in his arms.

“I think we need to talk. Unless we find a way to cure this retrovirus, we’re going to be stuck together, aren’t we? We’re going to become dependent on each other.”

He nodded. He was already dependent on her. His next breath, his next heartbeat depended on her nearness. “It was a mistake. It was not supposed to happen.”

“I get that.” She seemed displeased, almost hurt. She turned her face up, studied the ceiling and crossed her arms over her chest. “I don’t want to feel this way and I’m sure you don’t either. So what do we need to do about it?”

The knock on his door came quietly, but it startled him nevertheless. He pushed past Charity, grabbing a towel to cover himself as he headed for the door.

A’Kosu’an stood outside in the dappled moonlight. Her expression told him more than he wanted to know. “The Elders have spoken to the authorities on Valencia and on Celrax and they’ve made their decision. They would like to see you both now.”

“If the news was good they would not be calling a meeting in the middle of the night.”

His tribe mate lowered her eyes and studied the tiles beneath her feet. “I only know what they have asked me to tell you. They are waiting.”

Kol nodded and shut the door. They would continue to wait until he was ready to see them.

* * * *

The night breeze stirred the fine hairs on the back of her neck, and Charity shivered. Kol walked beside her, his pace slow and deliberate, as they made their way from his quarters to the multi-tiered building the A’Kosu called their Great House.

Much of Antarean architecture was inspired by the Asian cultures of Earth, and nowhere was this influence more apparent than in the sliding panels and highly polished floors of the Great House. Tall, slender pillar candles lit their way through the entry hall and dim electric lights took the place of open flames in the Council meeting room.

Never in her life had Charity felt more like a criminal than she did at this moment. When Kol ushered her inside the sparsely decorated, dark-paneled room, and she faced the disapproving stares of the seven A’Kosu elders, she felt naked and a little bit dirty, as if she’d stolen something from
them
, rather than from Gar Gremin.

An old man with long white hair, wearing dark blue robes stepped down from the curving podium. Kol and Charity took their places at the center of the room as he approached them. When he stepped forward to face her and sketched quick bow, she saw sympathy in his eyes.

“You may call me A’Kosu’ban, which means Second Elder. I have been chosen to say that we are grateful to have been able to treat your injury and that we trust you are well this evening.”

Kol nudged her, and Charity nodded. “I am. Thank you for helping me.”

“I am told you call yourself by the name Charity-Foster and that you share this name with others. May we call you thus?”

“You may.”

“We have reached a decision.”

Kol stiffened beside her, and his fingers sought hers.

“I don’t recall asking you to make any decisions on my behalf,” she said, careful to keep both her gaze and her voice from wavering.

The Second Elder favored her with an indulgent smile. “No, you did not. The decision involves A’Kosu’ri’s request that you remain here under our protection rather than be turned over to the Valencian government.”

“Valencia is governed by a lying, cheating son of a—”

A’Kosu’ban held up a hand. “Well, while that may be true, Valencia is governed, nevertheless. And the A’Kosu tribe contracted with the Magistrate of Valencia for the services of a bounty hunter, whose mission was to capture a thief. To fulfill that contract, the thief must be remanded into the custody of Valencian authorities. While we sympathize with the plight of those on Celrax and other colonies on the Galactic Rim, we have received no formal confirmation that you acted in the interest of those colonies and not strictly for personal gain when you appropriated one half kilogram of selenite crystals from Magistrate Gremin’s storehouse.”

“Of course they won’t confirm I was working for them. I wasn’t. I’m working for the colonists. If the government on Celrax cared about the people there, they’d be fighting Gremin themselves.”

A’Kosu’ban held up one wrinkled hand, and Kol dug his fingernails into her palm at the same moment, silencing her. Obviously this was no time for a rant against the illustriously inept Celraxian government.

Reluctantly, Charity held her tongue.

“I personally do not doubt you, Charity-Foster. But my vote is only one of seven, and I have been overruled. It is our decision that you must be turned over to the Valencian government when their representatives arrive on the day after tomorrow. It would behoove you both to break your mating bond before that time.”

“Break it?” Charity whirled around and glared at Kol. “You didn’t tell me it could be broken! Not that it matters because what the Valencians might not have mentioned is that they’re going to execute me. Probably over the course of several excruciating months.”

One of the seated elders interrupted Charity’s rant by tapping a silver bell. The sharp clang silenced everyone and all attention turned to the single female who sat at one end of the podium wrapped in golden yellow robes.

* * * *

“A’Kosu’ban, what did you just say?”

Kol stared at Barok who looked typically pleased with himself. The old man had never been above making inflammatory statements in Council sessions.

“I suggested that A’Kosu’ri and Charity-Foster seek to break their mating bond through the separation ritual before the Valencians take her into custody.”

Yannick turned her pale gaze to the other Elders, all of whom shifted uncomfortably in their chairs. Demnar spoke next and annoyance pinched his doughy features. “Barok, you assured us A’Kosu’ri suffered from a stomach ailment.”

“That is what I believed at first.”

“Well, the woman is not Antarean. There can be no mating bond.”

“According to A’Kosu’an there can be,” Barok countered. He moved to the central position in the room, and everything about his demeanor challenged the authority of the rest of the Council. “Apparently an environmental toxin present on Lebron—the planet where A’Kosu’ri and Charity-Foster were stranded—caused a mutation in the bonding retrovirus allowing it to affect the female’s human physiology. I don’t claim to understand botanics or biology in depth, but A’Kosu’an’s findings are very interesting, and I encourage each of you to read the report she uploaded to the medical database earlier today. The mating bond was not initiated by A’Kosu’ri, nor was it intentional. To separate them now during the most potent phase of the virus’s life cycle would amount to executing them both.”

Yannick sat. She leaned back in her chair with a weary sigh. “I wish I had reason to doubt this fantastic tale, A’Kosu’ban, but I hold A’Kosu’an’s word in the highest regard. This changes my vote on the matter.”

Kol tensed. Beside him Charity seemed to coil, as if she were preparing for another outburst. He silenced her with a stern, sidelong glance.

“That makes the new vote two to five, I believe,” said Borak.

Demnar pounded a soft fist on the podium table. “Which means nothing. My vote remains the same. I will not see the A’Kosu harbor a criminal.”

Faran spoke next. The least forceful of the Elders, his voice floated on the still, warm air. “Three to four. We cannot force a bonded couple to break their bond.”

“Yes, we can,” Demnar countered.

Modric, Fourth Elder, cut Demnar off. “No. We cannot. There is no precedent. The choice remains with them. If A’Kosu’ri remains bonded, the woman becomes A’Kosu as well and therefore deserving of our physical and legal protection regardless of her guilt or innocence. It becomes our duty to hold her harmless until a trial has been conducted in full.”

Ceres, the youngest of the elders raised his hand in agreement.

“Then make the vote six to one in favor,” Emin, the final elder, said. “We would not turn A’Kosu’ri over to a foreign government without a full trial, and we cannot do so for his bond mate.”

For a moment the burden Kol carried seemed to lift. If Charity were to remain on Antares until a full hearing could be completed, they would have time to work on breaking the bond without the painful separation ritual, and she would be afforded all of the legal resources of his tribe. Surely they would find her innocent once they understood her plight.

His victory was short-lived, though. A new weight descended on Kol’s chest when Demnar rose from his seat. His green robes rustled in the quiet air. “Everyone seems to have changed their minds as easily as a flaredragon changes its spots. I, however, put forth this question: If the bond was not entered into willingly due to this toxin, then it is not a legal bond, but an accident of nature that should be corrected with utmost haste. Be aware the female is not Antarean, and bonded or no, she jeopardizes A’Kosu’ri’s claim to his lineage.”

The other elders shuffled in their seats again, and Kol’s shoulders sagged. Demnar was right. Kol’s lineage was at stake because he had not chosen an Antarean mate.

“If the bond remains in place much longer, it will become permanent,” Demnar added. “And A’Kosu’ri will forfeit his lineage. As such, neither he nor his mate would qualify for the protection of the tribe.”

Barok looked angry now. His clever coup to save Charity from extradition to Valencia had failed. “Then I propose we afford the bond mates time to choose their own destiny. Separate or remain bonded—and if they choose to remain bonded, we no longer have jurisdiction over A’Kosu’ri’s actions or choices. In that event, he should likewise be free to leave Antares with his mate and seek protection for her elsewhere.”

Yannick pounded the table. “I agree.”

Faran, Modric, Emin, and Ceres agreed also, which left only Demnar who seemed pleased with the outcome of his decree. He nodded and gave an unctuous smile. “I agree as well. It is unanimous. A’Kosu’ri will make his choice within two days, renounce his bond mate or renounce his lineage. I will gladly abide either choice.”

Barok hung his head and his narrow chest heaved with a weary sigh. “I am sorry, Kol’A’Kosu. I tried to help,” he whispered as he shuffled past them out of the darkening chamber.

Kol held still and silent while the Elders filed out. Then he turned to Charity. She looked as if she’d already performed the separation ritual. Her face seemed gaunt, and her eyes glittered with unshed tears.

“What are you going to do, Kol?”

He held her gaze for as long as he could, wishing the answers were simple. Finally he tugged on her hand and pulled into an embrace. “Whatever I must,” he said as full darkness descended around them in the empty chamber.

* * * *

The A’Kosu compound covered hundreds of square kilometers of temperate lowlands, descending to a long, narrow crescent of white sand beach only a short walk from the Great House.