The Healer's Kiss: Book Four of the Forced To Serve Series (15 page)

“Yes,” Malachi answered. “I want to put my shirt back on. It’s cold in here.”

Boca laughed at his complaint but shared his opinion. Medical was one of the coldest areas on the ship. She just hadn’t thought about Malachi being so affected by temperature.

“Okay. I believe you are now sanctified with the mark. Go in peace, Malachi Synar,” Boca pronounced.

“What a sarcastic little doubting Sumerian you are,” Malachi said, tapping her chin. “Now take off your shirt.”

“Nice try to view my body, but no,” Boca said, rolling up her sleeve. “Arm.”

Malachi put his hand over hers on her sleeve. “No—I am compelled to put a design on your shoulder. Please trust me in this, Boca. And you must not ask what the symbol is until you are on your mission. I swear by the Creators it will serve you to have what I give you.”

Boca opened her mouth to protest, but something in his gaze stopped her. “Are you worried for me?”

“Not in the way you think,” Malachi said, removing his hand. “But yes. This symbol is one of great strength. My instincts are saying you need it, and I am compelled. Arguing is a waste of our time. I will do no other.”

Boca considered his words for a few seconds then reached for her tunic bottom, whisking it over her head. She climbed up on the table Malachi had vacated and lay face down on it.

“Thank you for trusting me, Boca dear,” Malachi said with a grin. “Now I need to hurry before Chiang returns. I am sure he would not approve.”

“Of the symbol? Why would he care?” Boca demanded.

“Three hundred years old and two mates. Still, you are so naïve sometimes,” Malachi commented as he laughed. “You’re practically naked with me and can’t imagine why the Greggor might come in growling and snarling.”

Boca laughed at Malachi’s description of Chiang’s attitude. “He says he doesn’t growl.”

Malachi snorted as he drew the symbol that he’d memorized this morning, just for her. “He makes a sound like a wounded animal when he’s mad or just stressed over something. He’s loudest with you though.”

“
Exactly
,” Boca said with genuine relief, relaxing under Malachi’s confident strokes. “It’s so good to know I am not the only one who believes this.”

“Greggors have a special sound they use during mating. It’s kind of a keening moan that’s supposed to build arousal to the point of madness in their mates. You might want to consider soundproofing Chiang’s quarters before things get that far between you two. I know how easily embarrassed you are about intimacy,” he said, grinning at her muscles tightening in reaction to his criticism.

“We have been bonding. I have heard no such noise,” Boca admitted tightly.

Malachi snorted. “I’m not sure what you’ve been doing, but I assure you, it is merely preliminaries. As was most of what Chiang has allowed himself to indulge in up to now. I studied Greggor mating because I wanted to make sure you were going to be okay.”

“Cease your worrying. We are merely relieving each other. Nothing else is happening,” Boca declared.

“You need to stop lying to yourself. Sumerians are like Sirens. You need to approach such commitments cautiously. Mating is very different than bonding. Greggors are a bit animalistic in their real claiming. They have a unique method of enforcing their domination. You probably should look this up so you can be prepared,” Malachi advised.

“Your concern is appreciated, but I assure you nothing of that sort is going to pass between me and Chiang. We are of one mind about our resistance to commitment,” Boca said. “He has been honorable in that regard.”

Malachi leaned over the mark on Boca’s shoulder and blew hot breath on it until it completely dried. Then he placed his right hand over the mark and spoke the sacred names of the Creators, sending energy into it to reinforce his request.

When he lifted his hand, the mark was completely outlined in silver. Deciding to take that as their approval, Malachi smiled over his work. “May the Creators guide and protect you on your mission,” he said as he finished, smacking her once on her shapely rear as he moved away from the table.

Boca sat up and quickly yanked her tunic back on. “What rapport do you have with the Creators that you would call on them directly? I thought you hated them for what they did to you.”

Malachi picked up the marking wands and remaining ink, being as conservative as he could be with it. He wasn’t done marking yet.

“Did I ever say I hated the Creators? No, I did not. You might be surprised at my relationship to them, especially lately. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a date. I have to go see the delightful Trax siblings in their private quarters. Captain Synar has decided they are both to get a mark as well. Want to come along and help protect my host body? Rena doesn’t like me.”

Boca watched Malachi gathering up everything to take with him. She frowned at his friendly conversation, ashamed of her overreaction to his request earlier.

“I’m sorry if I have not seemed grateful. It’s not that I don’t appreciate your concern for me,” she said quietly. “I just…Shades of Kellnor. Being disrespectful in light of your willingness to ask the Creators for my safe return is without excuse. It is not my place to judge your agreements with them.”

Malachi tilted his head to the side and contemplated Boca’s repentant expression. Why had he never noticed how sensitive females were before Ania? Boca honestly thought her words had hurt him. She was as sensitive as Gwen about such things.

“Apology accepted. After all the time I spend teasing you, I don’t blame you for being skeptical of my motives. I swear it is only for your greater good. Now I would advise you to hide your mark from the hot-tempered Greggor until you are on Lotharius. But choose your own fate. You know I don’t fear him.”

After Malachi left, Boca reached over her shoulder through the opening in her shirt and touched the mark she couldn’t see. Her fingers tingled with energy as she pulled them away, but there was no ink on them.

“
Slaggika
,” she spat, sliding off the bed. “What demon would willingly pray to the Creators who cursed him? I fear them, even though they have been kind to me.”

Yet even as she complained, Boca felt their blessing washing over her. She could only concede that Malachi’s request for her had been answered.

Shaking her head at how strange everyone was acting lately, Boca set about cleaning up the medical tables in case they ended up with patients. She would pretend her mark didn’t exist until it was needed. Malachi’s serious demeanor helped her trust him. And she already knew she was going to need all the help she could get on the mission.

***

“This is such a small matter that I am willing to risk his wrath. If you want a different mark than what the captain chose, just tell me,” Malachi said, smiling at the Liberator’s new demon-powered lieutenant, who was frowning.

“What does a symbol matter? Do as you will. I’ll have you remove it before I leave the Liberator for my next duty station,” Seta said.

“As you wish.” Malachi carefully painted the outline for the symbol of the Creators on Seta Trax’s upper arm. “Are you settling in well, Lieutenant?”

“As much as is possible on this tiny ship,” Seta answered quickly, frowning at having revealed her disdain to the sharp-tongued medic, even if he seemed much friendlier lately.

“Don’t worry, Lieutenant,” Malachi said, finishing the symbol with a flourish. It was the third time he had drawn it that day, and he had one more to go. “Your opinions are safe with me. I am used to keeping my own counsel on nearly everything.”

Across the room, Rena huffed out a breath at the ridiculous conversation, not to mention the wasted effort to mark bodies that were not destined to last much longer. She met and held Malachi’s knowing gaze.

“I fear your sibling does not believe my words are sincere, Lieutenant Trax,” he said, still looking at Rena, who crossed her arms and glared at him.

“Perhaps I have reasons,” Rena said sharply.

“Really? Have I not kept your confidences so far,
Rena Trax
?” Malachi asked, emphasizing the name she used that technically wasn’t hers.

“Only so far as it has served you to do so,” Rena agreed flatly.

Malachi blew on Seta’s mark, setting the ink with demon energy, grinning when Seta’s eyes momentarily turned a hazy white in recognition.

“Tell me again, Medic. Why must my sibling have a mark as well?” Seta asked, feeling a power surge from where the medic was touching her. He had the most interesting energy of anyone on the ship. “Rena does not go on missions with me.”

“Two of our crew members were abducted recently by slave traders who had stolen a supply ship. It took us weeks to find them. Captain Synar is not going to let that happen again,” Malachi explained. “I believe he sees the two of you as a valuable pair that needs to be protected.”

“They risked abducting passengers from your ship? Were the captives that valuable to the traders?” Seta asked incredulously, pulling her arm around to inspect the mark when Malachi finished. Standing, she walked to her mirrors where she could get a better view.

“The captives were both Sirens. Lieutenant Zade and his mother were both sold into bonding slavery on Terris Rein. But we freed them—eventually,” Malachi said, motioning for Rena to come sit on the bed where Seta had been moments before. “Commander Jet discovered their location during a meditation. She can be surprisingly intuitive despite being mostly an Earthling.”

Rena walked to the bed and sat uneasily on the edge of it. She fought to not pull away when Malachi reached out and wrapped one of his large hands around her arm. Seeing him dip the laser wand into the marking ink, she forced herself to enter a calmer state. She had no problem with his task. The mark would not change her fate and she refused to let the flutters in the host body worry her.

“My assumption is that as a spiritual seeker, you will welcome the opportunity to wear the symbol of the Creators of All,” Malachi said, squeezing Rena’s arm tightly enough to prevent an easy escape.

“Like Seta, I have no preference. I will have the mark Captain Synar chose,” Rena agreed.

“
Solra Kokum Ynati,”
Malachi chanted out loud as he drew the outline of it on Rena’s skin. The ink set immediately but turned a brilliant blue. “Well, aren’t you special? That’s a very nice color.”

Rena stared at the strokes of black that turned the bright color almost as instantly as they were absorbed. “I must have a deformity.”

Malachi laughed and had to quit painting until he composed himself. “Stop joking or I’m never going to get this done.”

“I was not joking,” Rena said hotly.

Malachi met and held her gaze until she looked away. His body reacted as if she had stroked him to an aroused state. Ignoring it, he sighed and resumed painting.

“Don’t you think the Creators of All have a sense of humor? Maybe blue is their favorite color,” he suggested, mostly for the purpose of seeing her frown.

Rena huffed out another breath, exasperated at his coded statements. Not that Seta was going to notice. Seta was more concerned with how her mark looked when she flexed her muscle. “I’m sure I don’t know what the Creators are really like.”

Malachi leaned closer, pretending to inspect his work. “
Liar,
” he whispered softly, moving his breath along her ear until she shivered. Then he noticed the luminous quality of her cheek and the fine development of her facial features. He got lost imagining the pleasure of running his tongue up to the tip of her pointed ear, adding it to the growing list of debauchery his physical lust was generating.

When Rena gave him a knowing look, Malachi laughed again and turned his attention back to drawing the mark. “Sorry. I find you quite distracting.”

“But not me?” Seta asked boldly from across the room, walking away from the series of three mirrors she had installed on the miniscule standing clothes chest she was forced to share with Rena. The mirrors at least allowed her to see her whole self but were far from the mirrored panel on the Paladin that doubled as a visual com unit.

“Tell me the truth, Medic. Are Rena and I not similarly attractive? People usually think we compare more precisely than average dual-births.”

Malachi smiled at Seta’s very youthful female urge to compete for his attention. She was even more childlike in her reactions than Gwen. Where did Liam find these creatures?

“Indeed, that is a profound truth. But it is your sister’s—”

He couldn’t say energy. Though the statement would be absolutely truthful, Seta might take it wrong since the Ethosian lieutenant was a tracker who specialized in following energy. It would only hurt her ego to know how poorly trained in reading real energy she was. He smiled at the earnest confusion lighting her face, perhaps feeling a little sorry for her. If she were more in touch with her inner entity, her skills would rise to a completely different level.

“I believe it is Rena’s calm spiritual demeanor that draws me to her,” Malachi said finally, the lie rolling as easily off his tongue as any ever had. He smiled again at the frowning Seta Trax before turning a challenging gaze on the creature next to him. “Though I am sure the average male would be equally impressed with you both, the truth is your sibling is unique to me.”

“Indeed? Well as a concerned fellow crew member, I feel I must warn you about Rena’s nature then, Medic. My sibling is not nearly as calm as she appears,” Seta said on a laugh. “Frankly, you are the first male to favor her over me in a very long time. Most find Rena too intense.”

“Your comments betray your jealous nature, Seta. When have we ever been in competition? From my perspective, we have not ever been,” Rena said tightly, trying to ignore the warmth in her gut as Malachi’s approving gaze met hers.

“I have no doubts that you draw more than your share of admirers, Lieutenant Trax,” Malachi said, leaning over Rena’s arm and blowing on the now finished mark. “You have a nature that is very appealing, especially when your emotional fire is lit and burning brightly.”

Rena’s skin rippled beneath Malachi’s fingers, and her gaze flew to his in alarm. Though he spoke to Seta, she had the oddest sensation his words were meant more for her. He smiled at her discomfort while he continued speaking to Seta.