Sought(11)

“It is the AllFather’s wish to keep you as you are,” Xairn said stonily. “I only obey his orders.”

“But you’re not like him.” She leaned forward, her eyes wide.

At least they aren’t green. Instead they were a brown so light it was almost golden. Amber, maybe. Xairn shook his head. “You’re wrong. I am exactly like him. I am his son.”

“That doesn’t matter. You may have his…his eyes…” She swallowed nervously. “But you don’t feel like him.”

“I haven’t laid a hand on you. Nor will I.”

“I didn’t mean feel in a physical sense.” She picked up one of the nutra-wafers he’d pushed over to her and began to nibble it. “I meant, whenever he’s near me I sense this…this evil. Hatred, malevolence—call it whatever you want, but he carries it with him like a cloud. With you…” She shrugged and took another nibble. “I don’t feel that.”

Xairn thought of telling her she would soon feel a great deal more. The AllFather was only abstaining from taking her until he reached his peak, when his seed would be most potent. It was only a matter of days—weeks at the most—before this human female became the new mother of the Scourge race.

She would probably lose her mind in the process.

It doesn’t matter. Nothing matters.

“I am his son,” Xairn repeated, not having anything else to say. “I obey his commands and do his bidding.”

“Not always,” she said softly. “Yesterday I told you I was hungry. Today you brought me three of these cardboard pop tart things instead of just one.”

Xairn frowned. “I have to keep you in good physical condition for the AllFather. I have been charged with your wellbeing.”

“Still, I want to thank you.” She looked at him earnestly. “Maybe someday I can return the favor.”

“You will never be in a position to do me any favors.” Xairn turned to go.

“Please…” Her voice tugged at him for some reason and he looked over his shoulder.

“What is it? I have other duties besides you to attend to.”

“I’m cold,” she repeated. “If you could just bring me some clothes. Or even a blanket.”

“Your constant complaints are annoying.” Xairn reached under his chin and unfastened the black cloak he always wore. It was cold on the Fathership—not that any of the vat grown soldiers noticed. Finding a new cloak would be difficult, if not impossible—he’d bought this one by chance from a clothier on a fringe colony. Still, he told himself, being a little chilly was better than listening to her whining. “Here,” he said and tossed it to her.

“Thank you.” She reached up to catch it and he caught a glimpse of her full breasts and berry brown nipples, tight with cold. The sight bothered him for some reason but he didn’t have to see it for long. She huddled quickly beneath his cloak, pulling it tight around her. “I really mean it, thank you so much,” she said.

“Keep your thanks,” Xairn said coldly. “I’ll get the cloak back when the AllFather is through with you.”

She drew in a sharp breath and her large amber eyes filled with fear. Xairn didn’t wait to hear if she had anything else to say. He slammed the heavy plasti-steel door and keyed in the lock code.

The girl was nothing to him. Nothing.

But as he walked down the bare metal corridor, he couldn’t help thinking that amber was almost as troubling a color as green.





Chapter Six





Kat was floating.

Not in the disembodied sense. This time she could feel her body, her limbs heavy with unspeakable exhaustion, her skin tender to touch. She wasn’t fully aware of her surroundings but one thing was clear—someone was taking care of her.

Gentle hands lifted her into warm water and strong arms held her securely while someone else washed her hair. The sensations were so soothing she wanted to drift away to sleep. But I am asleep, aren’t I? If not, why can’t I wake up?

The same hands dried her off and put a straw between her lips. Kat sucked reflexively and a delicious, fruity flavor that seemed to be a cross between watermelon, strawberry, and some other fruit she couldn’t name filled her mouth.

“That’s right, my lady,” a deep, somehow familiar voice murmured. “Drink deeply. Nourish yourself. It’s almost time to attempt the bond.”

What bond? Kat wanted to ask, but she was stuck, held in the same, strange limbo she sensed she’d been in for days. Was it a coma? They said that people in comas retained some consciousness and heard everything that was said to them. But would she be able to drink from a straw if she was truly unconscious? Kat didn’t think so. It was all very confusing.