The Siren's Call (Fantasy, Science Fiction, Romance) (FORCED TO SERVE) (4 page)

Gwen stood to pace while they waited for him to arrive. “I have to walk. Sitting still for more than a few minutes drives me crazy. I require sleep aids to rest. There is an anxiety in me that I can’t seem to control no matter what I do. How many more Earth hours until we get there?”

“A little over thirty,” Synar said.

Gwen nodded, biting her lip, glaring at the door when Malachi walked through it.

“What did I do? I came as soon as I was summoned,” Malachi said, hating that both his tone and words revealed his defensiveness. He’d promised himself not to let anyone’s negative attitude affect him. Damn humans and their emotions. Now he was feeling guilty and getting riled up over nothing.

“Generic glaring at fate. Not really meant for you,” Gwen said, dipping her head. “Sorry, Malachi.”

“Just good to know it wasn’t something I did. I find myself oddly opposed to distressing females if I can avoid it,” Malachi said, still not used to people apologizing to him. “Sorry I over-reacted. Evidently, this physical body’s nerve centers are sensitive to strong emotions.”

He was definitely going to have to work on handling the acute discomfort he experienced over every tiny facial expression anyone made. He supposed most beings just ignored their feelings, but he had never been a stoic creature like his reluctant master. Conor’s life force had been much more volatile than Liam’s, but the body had better learn to release anxiety more quickly or it wouldn’t last long without melting down from stress.

Malachi looked at his summoner, willing his host body’s facial expression to show compliance and nothing of his churning.

“I’m assuming you’re discussing how best to rescue the Sirens,” he said stoically, taking a seat at the table.

Synar nodded. “We were wondering if you had any ideas about how to find them among the millions of other creatures on Terris Rein. Their slave collars will be scrambling their Siren ID implants. We don’t have the capacity to look for all Sirens among the entire planet’s inhabitants, much less to find just those particular two.”

Malachi blinked and thought about the dilemma. “Gwen can find her mate without technical aid, but she’ll have to be on the surface to do so. Above the planet, she is merely uncomfortable. Down there, the energetic pull will make her an accurate directional device. She will be compelled to be where he is.”

He turned his gaze to where Gwen paced. “Your mating cord is likely even now vibrating because we are closer to your mate, and probably painfully since you haven’t—well, you know—consummated your union to Dor—I mean, Lieutenant Zade.”

“So the growing anxiety is because we’re getting closer,” Gwen surmised. “I was right then. They’re on Terris Rein, or at least Zade is.”

Ania snorted as if there had been any doubt. Synar’s expression didn’t change. Neither of them had ever questioned Gwen’s information. It had resonated too strongly in both of them as a truth.

“Yes, I would say your upset is validation your mate is on the planet. Unfortunately, there is little that can be done to ease your discomfort now that the cord is complete. I suggest calming meds to take the edge off. On the plus side, once you’re within the vibrational atmosphere, you’ll be drawn right to him no matter what they do to hide him. His cord will be calling yours as well. His anxiety level will match or exceed yours, if what I read about Siren cords is accurate,” Malachi explained.

Very tactful
, Ania praised silently, smiling across the table.
You are handling this very well.

Malachi smiled back at Ania but said nothing in reply. Liam was obviously angry with his beloved host again, and he didn’t want to provoke the male into more anger with his mate for supporting him. Liam might not be able to intercept Ania’s communication since she’d learned to block out her mate and anyone else she wanted. Unfortunately for Malachi, he had the same mental link to both of them and was forbidden to block. Every time he tried, his energy blocks failed to hold. So his strongest thoughts would broadcast to both his caretakers.

He sighed and looked at his frowning master who was deeply worried about the Sirens and Gwen. Malachi once had found Liam’s compassion for family and friends annoying and unworthy of a demon’s master. Now he was a bit in awe that such tender emotions could exist inside the same male who would gladly and without regret lock him away for centuries in the demon’s amulet if his brother wasn’t already trapped in it.

Malachi was discovering that Liam was a male of extremes, which was much more similar to Conor’s character than Liam would want to know. But learning that his hereditary Synar master was strong-willed when crossed was why he had been on his best behavior and working hard to be seen as a helpful member of the crew. It seemed a much wiser course of action, and one Ania monitored anyway.

Ania was insistent that he show signs of caretaking to others. She never thought twice about ordering him to do the good deeds she wanted him to do, for practice or otherwise. Malachi figured it best to do the good deeds he chose and control his own fate as much as possible.

“Engineering might be able to calibrate a frequency from Gwen’s energy signature, which is now mixed with Zade’s. Then the Liberator’s scanner could be looking for one specific, strange, blended signature that would match hers, or perhaps its opposite. I’m not totally sure how mating energy works, but when I was in the cord, I noticed this strange entwining of energy. Quite fascinating, really. Anyway, the adjustment to filter out the collar’s energy would be the only difficulty, but you could hope they might take it off him while you’re looking,” Malachi suggested. “Or perhaps Chiang might have some idea about the settings. He once wore a Xendrin collar for two weeks.”

Everyone sat up straighter and stared speechless at Malachi over his pronouncement. Gwen walked back to the table and sat down to face him. He shrugged at the questions in her penetrating gaze.

“It’s not like I’m revealing secrets in telling you about it. Chiang and Boca were discussing it just today. All of Medical is talking about what kind of effect the collars are having on the Sirens and if they are going to need medical treatment once we get them back. Chiang mentioned he wore a collar during his healer training because they were still being used to control prisoners in some of Greggor’s remote locations,” Malachi reported.

Gwen shook her head in amazement. “Can I take Malachi with me to explain this to Engineering? I’ll pull Chiang from Medical as well.”

Synar nodded. “Yes. Tell Engineering they have thirty hours to have the scanner recalibrated. Use whatever materials are necessary. We’ll replace them later.”

Gwen stood and motioned to Malachi with her head before heading to the door. There was no doubt in her mind that he’d follow her. He’d do just about anything to avoid dealing with Synar, and she’d learned that without using her newly hyped-up intuition.

“You’re becoming quite the useful guy to have around lately,” Gwen praised, stopping and holding the door for him as he walked out with her.

Synar rolled his eyes hearing Malachi’s muttered thanks and frowned at their combined chatter as they walked away and down the hall.

“He is seeking to win over every female on the Liberator. How can you honestly believe that creature seeks to serve our good?” Synar asked, holding his mate’s unwavering gaze.

“I do believe it. Stop being so condescending about my optimism and Malachi’s compliance,” Ania ordered. “The demon is making every effort to be helpful and not to be offensive or any trouble. You owe him some respect for that, even if you cannot give him any of your trust. And he has been kind and helpful to the females he’s interacted with voluntarily. Of course they trust him.”

“In my room is a chest with the micro-dust remains of a thousand warriors. That’s only a fraction of what his power can do when unleashed. I have seen him destroy whole armies as well as individuals. And I assure you, no demon can be trusted,” Synar said. “What Malachi is doing at the moment is an act that serves him well. One day I will see his true purpose, and so will you.”

“I see now I should be even more grateful that the Creators of All did not give up so quickly on
my
capacity to be redeemed,” Ania said. “I assure you my transgressions as a warrior are almost as numerous and equally as bad as those Malachi made in the corporeal life that led to him becoming a demon. I could just as easily have shared his fate. I can kill with as little remorse as he does.”

“Yes—so you keep saying,” Synar said tersely.

“I will not bore you again with stories of my wicked past, but there is no avoiding the discussion we must have with the demon about the boundaries of his new life. Malachi once called me his child because we merged so much after the healing. However, I find now that he is in another body and not mine, our situations are reversed,” Ania explained.

When Synar’s expression didn’t change or show any sign of softening, Ania decided to say what she knew would get her mate’s full attention.

“Like it or not, the demon’s life in Conor’s body makes him like our first child, Liam. The two of us remain his keepers. We must guide him to good behavior and good thoughts. Conor’s body is not used to being celibate and will cause Malachi a discomfort that will test his resolve in ways we do not wish to deal with along with all other responsibilities concerning him. We need to allow Malachi to develop relationships, so long as he exercises discretion. When we order him on this matter, we must be specific and clear.”

“How do I command a being like him to indulge his physical urges, but not to harm the females in the process? What if he does not obey? What if he accidentally hurts a female because he cannot control himself? Even normal males fail in such matters,” Synar said, staring off and refusing to look at her.

“You have never once failed to be good to me, Liam. Have you ever hurt a female during bonding?” she asked.

“No. I have not. The closest I’ve come is when we—when you—you know of what I speak,” he said sharply, unwilling to discuss it again.

“Barely—since you seem to be having trouble finding the words to describe our intimacy,” Ania replied. “I actually enjoyed myself that day.”

“I did not like hurting you,” Synar said.

“You did not hurt me, and I know you liked what we did. Don’t lie to me. Or yourself,” she ordered on a laugh. “Be ashamed of how much you liked it if you choose, though I think it is a poor reflection on our relationship to do so.”

“I refuse to make you cry again,” Synar said fiercely. “Do not ask me.”

“Fine. I didn’t really care for that part either, but it was a good emotional release for me. I can see in your face that you are shutting down, so let’s stop talking about us and go back to Malachi. Regardless of what you think, his character is changing. Perhaps your relationship with him would be improved if you did not judge him unworthy of his very existence all the time,” Ania said.

“What do you suggest I do?” Synar asked snidely. “Turn him loose on the females in my crew and tell him to have a good time?”

Ania closed her eyes and took a breath. “I do not understand why the Creators of All have cursed me to be mated to a male so inflexible and short-sighted, yet one who bends in the wind with his own doubts. TALK to Malachi and come to some agreement with him—male to male—I care not about the exact details. I’m sure he knows what he needs more than we do. He’s older than I am and far wiser when it comes to being realistic. You might learn something from him if you genuinely listen.”

“You constantly defend him and refuse to acknowledge any truth of what I say about his abuse of power,” Synar argued.

“I can only judge him from his conduct with me, which has been as wonderfully compassionate as I have ever been treated. So yes—I defend him. And I want this resolved so I can stop thinking about it. He needs to be allowed to connect to others if he is to be reformed,” Ania said.

“I did not take on his reformation as a project,” Synar said testily.

“Be grateful I have my temper properly restrained today, Liam. If we can’t decide together what’s best for Malachi and reach a reasonable accord, how can you possibly ask me to consider having real children with you?” Ania demanded. “Not that I’m thinking about children, but the example suffices as a support in this discussion. I can’t imagine spending all our time fighting about what is best for them on top of everything else.”

Synar looked at the table and not at his willful, obstinate, unbendable mate who constantly accused him of the same character flaws. It was the first time Ania had mentioned children voluntarily, which meant she was giving it thought. He decided to focus on that positive turn in her thoughts for the moment.

And whether he liked it or not, Ania had a point about their endless debates over Malachi. They were always fighting and it always seemed to be around or because of the demon. Ania was right that some resolution had to be sought to boundaries and many other things. Perhaps she was also right that raising children would require them to have a calmer union. If so, it was going to take a lot of work.

“I’ll speak to Malachi about his private life when Dorian gets back. I may need him to explain to Malachi some of the things he did to…distract himself from thoughts of bonding. There are techniques,” Synar said quietly. “I used some during our time apart.”

“I’m well aware of the challenge of celibacy,” Ania said sharply. “I practiced several techniques myself for eight hundred years. You just work on finding an accord with the Demon of Synar that suits your Norblade sensibilities for taking care of Conor’s body. I’ll have the talk about other methods that offer relief when no appropriate bonding partners are around.”