"And how do you plan to heal me, Liane?" With an effort, Karic propped himself up on his elbows. His green eyes were shadowed with suspicion, his mouth grim.
She was baffled by his sudden reserve. "Why, by a mind healing, of course. How else would I do it?" "In the usual manner. Cleaning the wound, then letting it mend on its own."
"It'll never mend right that way. There's been too much damage. You'll never walk on that leg again if you don't let me heal it my way."
"That's
my
choice, isn't it?"
Liane shook her head, her confusion mounting. "But why would you refuse my assistance? It doesn't hurt, and I can completely heal you."
Karic exhaled a deep breath and lowered his head to cradle it in his hands. "It's not the pain. I just don't want you in my mind."
He looked up at her, and the glance, though tinged with regret, was resolute. "Your powers are too strong. I fear I wouldn't have the strength to fight you off again if your healing turned into a mind seek. You saved my life, Liane, but I'm still not sure why."
An unexpected pain coursed through her. Didn't he know, couldn't he sense how she felt about him? Well, it was betteR he didn't. His powers were also strong. She was just as afraid she'd not have the strength to fight him. Each had a need to be cautious around the other.
"You think I brought you here to win your trust, then use it against you, don't you?" she demanded. "That I might be able to somehow slip another mind seek in and discover the location of your people's lair?"
Karic nodded. "If I'm wrong, I'm sorry, but I have to be careful. Too much is at stake."
He shifted to a more comfortable position. "Do you know why no one has ever captured a Cat Man alive before?"
She shook her head.
"Because we've all sworn to kill ourselves rather than risk revealing the whereabouts of our lair. If the Bellatorians discovered it again it would be over for us. I'd be dead now, if that new alarm system in Primasedes hadn't taken me by surprise. It incapacitated me just long enough for the guards to get there."
"You must have been terrified you'd be tortured into revealing the secret."
"Yes, I was."
Liane gently brushed aside a stray lock that had fallen into Karic's eye. "But we couldn't get anything from you, no matter what we tried."
"A man doesn't know what he can bear until he's tested."
His striking eyes slowly caressed her face.
"And I'm still not safe, Liane. Far from it."
She knew his words held more than an admission that he still feared for his physical safety, but she forced any further consideration of their meaning from her mind. She couldn't let herself dwell on itdidn't dare.
Her manner became that of a psychic healer to her patient. "Your concerns are groundless, and you needlessly risk disfigurement and crippling if you persist in your stubborn refusal. I cannot mind seek when I heal. You are in no danger."
"Don't patronize me, Liane," Karic said, stung by her cool rejection of his explanation. "I'll risk the crippling and disfigurement. Under no circumstances are you to attempt your psychic healing on me. Care for my wound in the conventional way, or don't bother at all!"
In the end Liane accepted Karic's terms. She knew he couldn't prevail when he was unconscious, and as she worked on his wound, he tried mightily not to slip into that blessed oblivion. His fists balled in the bedclothes, his face contorted with agony, but at long last he could fight no more.
His powerful form went slack, and Liane breathed a sigh of relief. She blotted away the moisture that had dampened her brow, then wet a cloth and wiped Karic's glistening face. Pain was a part of life, Liane knew, but Karic's pain had been so unnecessary. She was glad his stubbornness was at an end. When he awoke, he would not be able to undo what she had healed.
His anger, though, might be another matter, but she'd face that when the time came. For now, it only mattered that he was wrong and she was right. She had no intention of betraying him or attempting another mind seek. She already knew him too well as it was.
It took well over an hora to complete his healing. Trembling with fatigue, Liane surveyed her handiwork. The muscle and sinew were once again reattached to the bone, the flesh perfectly aligned. A thin, angry red scar was all that remained of the terrible wound. Karic would be thankfulsome sol.
She covered him with the blanket and walked away, her steps halting and awkward. He'd sleep for horas now, time enough to rest herself and replenish the strength that had drained from her during the course of the healing. Liane wearily lay down on the fur before the hearth. There was time enough to deal with the issue of what to do about Karic, time enough . . . later. . . .
Karic woke slowly, lazily, to bright sunlight shining in his eyes. He grimaced and lifted his arm to shield his vision. The presence of a normal looking hand, where only a sol before it had been swollen and mangled from Bellatorian instruments of torture, jerked him to full consciousness. He sat up in bed then fell back, a stomach-churning dizziness spiraling through his body.
Where was he? What had happened to heal his body so quickly? With a low curse, he felt his right leg. The wound had healed except for the faint remnant of a scar. It had not been a nightmare. The blasters had torn open his leg, and Liane had mended it!
Blazing with anger, his glance swung about the room. In spite of his demands to the contrary, she had healed him. She had ignored his request and, when he was helpless, had gone ahead and done just as she pleased. Even now, the information she may have gleaned could be on its way to Primasedes.
He found her asleep before the hearth. For a fleeting instant, as his gaze swept over her slender form curled so cozily in front of the fire, Karic's resolve to seek retribution wavered. Glossy black hair spilled across her shoulders and onto the fur bed, the red glint of the dying embers catching crystalline glimmers in her tresses. The thick fan of Liane's lashes rested gently against her high cheek-bones, and her mouth was tender and full in her slumber. She looked sweet, innocent, and oh, so desirable.
Karic cursed again, this time with a vengeance. Even in the face of her betrayal he wanted her still, but though the instinctual drive to mate and propagate his endangered species seethed in his groin, he was still human enough to temper it with reason. And reason told him to wait a while and discover the extent of her treachery. It was the only way to ascertain what she knew and how much of it she had already told Necator.
There were times when he cursed his human blood, believing it tainted the purity of his Cat Man lineage. His sire was Lord of the Cat Men. As his heir, Karic would eventually rule. It ate at him that he would come to that throne half-blooded, a painfully visual reminder of what they'd become in the name of survival.
But there were also times when his human side proved of more value than curse. Cat Men, for all their courage and physical prowess, reacted rather than thought, basing their actions on emotion instead of logic.
Since he'd come into his manhood and gained his rightful place on the Cat throne beside his father, Karic had tempered many a passion-laden issue with surprising wisdom and insight. He found, sometimes to his great distress, that he could be as cold-blooded as a Bellatorian when the need arose. Though the human blood ran bittersweet in his veins, Karic knew its value.
Limbs quaking with weakness, he rose and stumbled to where Liane lay, heedless of his nakedness. Sinking to his knees, he roughly shook her awake.
Liane groggily brushed the sleep from her eyes. Karic knelt there, towering over her. Though pale, his mane of hair disheveled, his eyes still smudged with exhaustion, he looked markedly improved.
Her glance swept over his muscular form, noting with satisfaction that no trace of his recent ordeal marred his body. She also noted that he was naked, and color bloomed in her cheeks.
Nudity was one thing when he was a helpless prisoner, another when he was ill and she cared for him. Now, when he was nearly well, his sexuality was too overt, too potent and too threatening. She scooted away from him.
"Karic," she murmured, "you must dress yourself." Liane motioned toward a nearby chest where there was a neatly folded pile of clothes. "Your loincloth was beyond repair. I found you some breeches and a tunic. Please put them on."
"Are you afraid of me, Liane?" he drawled with distinct mockery. "Afraid I'll rape you now that I am well? And if so, why would the presence of clothing on my body make any difference? You weren't afraid of me before when I was naked. It didn't keep you from pressing your body against mine during the mind seek.''
"Stop it!" Liane sat up. "Don't talk to me like that. You make it sound so, so"
"Loathesome?" he supplied with harsh sarcasm. "But no more loathesome than what you did to me. How dare you go against my wishes in my healing?"
Karic grabbed Liane by the arms and pulled her to him. She could feel the strength and heat of him through her gown. She swallowed a panicked sob.
"You invaded my body against my will," he snarled, his features contorting with fury. "I'd say you've more than raped me!"
Tears filled Liane's eyes. "II didn't mean it as such. It was for your own good. You were just too stubborn to admit it."
He couldn't bear her tears and pushed her from him. "It was still
my
body. I'll never forgive you for that."
"I don't care. I'd do it again."
Green eyes narrowed to glittering slits. "And what exactly
did
you do, aside from my healing, of course? How much more did you probe into my mind?"
"I didn't touch you except to heal." She grabbed his hand and brought it to her forehead. "If you don't believe me, look into my mind and see what I know of you. I've nothing to hide."
Karic's hand moved to entwine her hair, and he twisted her head back to expose the slim column of her throat. "And what would I find, sweet femina? Just what you wanted me to see? Do you think I'm that gullible?"
A long, lethal claw sprang out from his forefinger, and he stroked her neck with its tip. "Do you know how close you are to death, my little Bellatorian? Do you know how easy it would be to slit your throat with this?"
Liane's eyes widened, and she flinched. "It wouldn't change the truth," she whispered. "I'm a healer. I'd do it again. I'd have to."
The claw resheathed itself. "Do you realize the jeopardy I put my people in by letting you live?" The question was exhaled on a ragged rasp of breath. "What am I to do with you?"
"Find it in your heart to trust me?"
Karic laughed, the sound harsh and jarring. "You'll have to do better than that, Liane."
"Then trust this." She scooted closer as if to emphasize her words. "There was a man here. Teran Ardane. He's been given power by the High King of Bellator to investigate the improprieties on Agrica and make changes."
"Is he Bellatorian?"
"Yes, but"
"Then it won't help Agrica."
"No, Karic," Liane persisted, laying a hand on his arm. "He's not like the rest. He's a good man and will change things."
"Then where is he? Tell me and I'll go to him."
Liane sighed. "He's not here anymore. He had to return to Aranea. It was an emergency."
"And what emergency on Aranea could be of more import than the annihilation of a people?" He raised his hand to silence her when she attempted to reply. "Say no more about this Teran Ardane. His priorities are not mine. He means nothing to me."
"He's your people's only hope, Karic."
"No,
I'm
my people's only hope." The image of the Guide and the potential of turning its powers against its Bellatorian masters flashed through Karic's mind. "I have vital information. How long before I'm strong enough to travel?"
She knew he'd have to leave. It was better this way. "With further nourishment and rest, another two or three sols. You'll feel it when you're ready."
Two or three sols! Karic inwardly railed against the feebleness of his body. Even now Bellatorians might be on their way here, if Liane had ever told anyone about the hut. He was tempted to ask her but knew she'd lie if it suited her needs. Yet each moment spent here put him in increasing jeopardy. If he weren't so damn weak . . .
His keen eyes knifed into hers. "I expect your assistance until I go."
At her nod, he smiled grimly. "It doesn't mean I trust you, Liane. Far from it. Until I leave, I'm not letting you out of my sight. We'll eat together, sleep together, bathe together. Do you understand?"
Liane wondered if she could bear the next three sols without a bath. She nodded.
"Good." Karic rose and slowly made his way over to the chest. Picking up the pile of clothing, he turned. "I'm hungry. Can you cook?"
"Yes." She stood up.
"Then please make me something to eat."
He began to dress. It was an awkward sight, and Liane was tempted several times to come to his aid but knew he'd resent it. Finally, Karic fastened his breeches and glanced up.