Saber felt sick. “The war of the Clans…” It had happened hundreds of years before, but the bloody conflict was still well remembered. Every clan of the Touch Kindred had brought forward a male they felt should be leader, and none had been willing to compromise. The resulting civil war had decimated the Touch Kindred and cemented the belief of the other Kindred races that they were too volatile and vicious to be allowed to consort with the rest of the Kindred as a whole. It had resulted in the banishment of the entire Touch Kindred people—what were left of them after a winner had finally emerged, that was.
That leader had been Saber’s ancestor and up until now, the line of succession had never been broken. But I’m breaking it now, he thought to himself sickly. I’ve already broken it. Reddix is right—I’m forcing him into the public eye—forcing him into a life that’s going to be a living hell for him. And all because I couldn’t help myself and had to have Lissa.
“Stop.” Reddix put a hand to the flat plane of his abdomen. “Now you’re making me nauseous. Your guilt is like a stone in my gut.”
“Sorry.” Saber shook his head. “Reddix, I’m desperately sorry about all of this. But I love Lissa, and we’re already bonded. There’s nothing I can do.”
“I didn’t think there was. I just had to ask. Don’t worry, old friend, I’ve got a plan B.” Reddix sat back on the couch.
“Plan B? What are you talking about?”
The melted silver eyes inside Reddix’s hood flashed dangerously. “I’ve been to see Xandra.”
“The swamp witch? You went to see her?” Saber shook his head, disbelieving. “You’re joking.”
“I wish I was,” Reddix said fiercely. “It wasn’t a very fucking pleasant experience. But I needed help, and there was no place else to get it.”
“All Xandra can offer you—can offer anyone—is death,” Saber protested. “You need to stay away from her, Reddix!”
“Too late.” Reddix laughed, a deep, harsh sound that hurt Saber’s ears. “We’ve already struck a bargain—a bargain in blood. See?” He held out his arm and pulled up the sleeve of his hooded jacket.
On the inside of his wrist, Saber saw something that made his gut clench with fear and loathing. There, on his friend’s pale skin was a black mark shaped like a small, slithering creature called a lthss. It looked remarkably like the Earth animal called a snake except that a lthss changed color after it fed, by sucking the blood from its victim, going from black to red. The mark on Reddix’s inner wrist was still small and still black. But what color would it be when Xandra was done with him?
“Reddix,” he said. “You can’t do this. There has to be another way.”
“To overcome the RTS long enough to get Tilla pregnant and make sure the Clans don’t kill each other?” Reddix barked a bitter laugh. “I don’t think so.”
“But this is extreme,” Saber protested. “I really don’t think—”
“No, you don’t, old friend. You don’t think about anyone but yourself. But you know what? I do.” Reddix jabbed a thumb at himself. “I’m thinking of my little sister—of Minda. Did you know she’s found a male from the Wind Clan? He doesn’t have much status, but he loves her and he’s good to her. They’re already joined, and she’s going to have a baby. What do you think will happen to that sweet, happy little family if the Clans go to war? How long do you think they’ll survive? And who should Minda side with—the clan she was born into? Or the clan she married into?”
He stood suddenly and swayed unsteadily.
Saber jumped up to help him, but Reddix shook off his hand and took another step back.
“Stop touching me,” he muttered. “Just makes it worse.”
“Sorry.” Saber took a step back. For the first time it occurred to him that his old friend looked more than just tired—he looked sick. He couldn’t get much of a look at Reddix’s face with the hood in the way, but from the little he could see, his friend looked unshaven and unspeakably weary.
“I’d better be going,” Reddix growled. “I need to get back and tell your mother and father and the rest of our people I’m their next Overlord.” He snorted. “You can imagine for yourself their overwhelming joy at the prospect.”
“Don’t go just yet,” Saber protested. “Stay for a while and recuperate—you look terrible.”
“Don’t look nearly as bad as I feel,” Reddix rasped. “But don’t worry, I’m not running straight back to Tarsia yet. I have some unfinished business right here on that little blue-green ball of rock all our Kindred Brothers seem so fucking taken with.”