Targeted

  “You mean…spank her?” Tragar had asked incredulously.

  Xen’dex had nodded.

  “Indeed. Before the two parts of the Khalla merge, the Kit’tara is a reckless force—all appetite and no caution. She is like a defiant child, intent on getting what she wants. And like a defiant child, she does not enjoy punishment. So you must use whatever means necessary to drive her back. If not, the Kit’tara may force the Khalla to go through the stages of Tenrah too quickly and cause madness or death as it emerges.”

  It was only this old memory that Tragar had to go on—only the hope that he could keep Emily safe from herself and from the new hungers and desires being born inside her that led him to do as he did now. He would never have raised a hand to a female otherwise—especially not a Khalla. He gave her another hard, measured slap to her bare buttocks and noticed that she had suddenly gone limp in his lap.

  “Khalla?” he muttered uncertainly. “Emily?”

  Then he heard the soft sound of her sobbing and his heart clenched in his chest.

  Gods, what had he done?

  Chapter Nine

  Emily finally stopped struggling and lay limp across the big Kindred’s knee, the tears rolling down her cheeks. The other had at last receded and with her she had taken the shameless lust and reckless desire Emily had been feeling ever since she took the first, deep breath of his scent and lost herself in need. She was left with only a sense of shame so deep it seared her to the bone.

  Oh God, the way I acted…the way I came on to him…I practically begged for it! It was the same way she had acted with Grayson all those years ago back in college. The same behavior which had gotten her into the worst situation of her life. But do I learn from my past mistakes? Do I? Oh, no—I have to go and repeat them! Repeat them and make a fool of myself. God, what’s wrong with me? Why can’t I control myself?

  She had no answers for the questions. It was tempting to blame the other and say it was all her fault but though Emily tried, she knew deep down it wasn’t a valid excuse. “Your Kit’tara is part of you,” Tragar had told her and she knew it was true though she didn’t want to acknowledge it. She wouldn’t have acted that way if somewhere, down inside, she didn’t want to.

  “Khalla? Emily?” The spanking stopped abruptly which was a relief—that big hand of his really hurt when it connected. But even when the pain stopped, she couldn’t stop the tears. “Emily?” he asked again and raised her gently to look her in the face.

  “Don’t.” Emily pulled away from him and tried to sit on the side of the bed but her bottom was much too sore. “Ouch!” She jumped and turned on her side, rolling away from him.

  He got up without a word and left her there. Emily didn’t blame him. After the way she’d thrown herself at him, of course he wanted to get away. That thought didn’t help the pain and shame she felt, however. Rolling onto her stomach in the middle of the vast bed, she buried her face in the gold and red coverlet and let the sobs take her.

  Why am I like this? What’s wrong with me? Why can’t I fight the urges—fight the other when she comes forward?

  Maybe because you don’t want to fight her, whispered a snarky little voice in her brain. Maybe because you’re bad and you want bad things…wrong things…maybe you deserve everything that’s ever happened to you…

  The flow of self recrimination was cut off abruptly when something damp and soothing was applied to her stinging bottom.

  “Oh!” Emily jumped and looked around to see Tragar sitting beside her. He had a bowl filled with liquid in one hand and with the other, he was pressing what felt like some kind of cool compress to her wounded behind. “What…” Emily cleared her throat and tried again. “What are you doing?”

  “Trying to make amends.” His rumbling voice sounded deeply remorseful. “Will you allow it?”

  “I…um…” Emily suddenly became aware that her nighty was still rucked up and her panties were down around her knees. She felt almost unbearably exposed but her ass really did hurt and the cool cloth was as soft as silk to her stinging flesh. Tragar was watching her patiently, waiting to hear her answer. Finally, she nodded and buried her face in her arms. “All right,” she whispered.

  “Forgive me.” His deep voice was surprisingly filled with pain. “I told you there are ways to hold the Kalor back but I didn’t want to use them on you. I…I felt I had no choice.”

  Emily felt a jagged little laugh escape her. “Of course not. “I gave you ample reason to do what you did.”

  “It was the only way to drive your Kit’tara back,” he murmured, dipping the cloth in the bowl again and pressing it gently to her sore bottom. “You were becoming most…insistent.”

  “Insistent about throwing myself at you. And asking you to…to… Oh God…” Emily muffled a fresh sob against her arm. “God, I’m so sorry…”

  “No.” Suddenly she was being lifted from the bed until she came face to face with him. The big Kindred held her gently but firmly by the arms and looked into her eyes. “No,” he said again, frowning. “You don’t need to be sorry.”

  “Yes I do after the way I acted—the way I let her make me act,” Emily flared at him.

  “The Kit’tara is a force to be reckoned with,” he said gruffly. “When it emerges, it brings uncontrollable desires…unquenchable lusts. You are not to blame for any of that.”

  “Yes, I am,” Emily said stubbornly. “I should have controlled it—should have found a way to shut it down somehow.”

  He frowned.

  “There was no way for you to—”

  “You don’t understand,” Emily interrupted. “That—what I was doing? The way I was acting? That was exactly how I was acting the night Grayson and I…the night he…that night.”

  Emily didn’t know why she was telling him this—admitting things she hadn’t even told her older sister, who was the only one she’d confided to about what had happened. But somehow once she started, she couldn’t seem to stop.

  “I…I was all over him,” she whispered brokenly. “Right out in the bar in the open—everyone saw it. I was shameless—exactly the way I was with you just now. Only Grayson didn’t try to stop me—or himself.”

  “Of course not. He is a male without honor.” He sounded angry now but Emily could tell it wasn’t at her—he was still enraged at Grayson. It made her feel better to hear the anger in his voice and know it was directed at her attacker but she still wasn’t sure she deserved his absolution.

  “I didn’t want him to stop,” she said in a low voice. “Not at first. Not until he started to…to put…to put himself inside of me.” God, she could barely get the words out but somehow they had to come. This was like a wound that had been festering much too long—the poison had to come out. The big Kindred seemed to understand.

  “Go on,” he murmured though there was a pained expression on his face. “Say what you need to say.”

  “He…it…” Emily shook her head, trying to put what had happened into words. “I wanted it so much—felt like I’d die if I didn’t have it. If I didn’t get…”

  “Get bred,” he finished for her.

  Emily looked down at her hands. “I was going to say if I didn’t get fucked.”

  “Breeding is the culmination of Tenrah,” he told her. “But it must not happen until the Khalla has passed through all four stages. An early breeding often means death.”

  “I wanted to die,” Emily whispered, looking up at him. “It…it hurt so much. But it wasn’t just the pain. It was the…the wrongness.” She shook her head. “I can’t explain it any better than that. It just felt so awful… like I was doing something unnatural and sick. Something perverted…”

  “He wasn’t your species,” Tragar rumbled. “Your body knew that. A male Kindred can mate with almost any receptive female, no matter the species. But a Khalla can only be bred by one of her own kind.”

  “So that’s why it hurt so much? Why it felt so wrong?” Emily shivered. “I mean aside from the fact that h
e was…doing what he was doing after I begged him not to.”

  “Your body rejected him. Or tried to anyway.”

  “I did try,” Emily said fiercely. “I fought and kicked and bit and shouted for him to stop.” She looked away. “He wouldn’t.”

  “As I said, a male without honor.” His deep voice was little more than a growl and she could see that his large hands had bunched into fists, as though he was longing to hurt Grayson—to make him pay for his brutality all those years ago. His anger on her behalf gave her the courage to go on—to finish what she needed to say.

  “Afterwards he…” She swallowed and her throat clicked dryly. “Afterwards he said no one would believe me and I knew he was right. So many people had seen me coming on to him…so many people saw us leave together—saw me practically dragging him out of there. Grayson said he only…only gave me what I asked for. And…and I did ask for it. Right up until he started doing it I wanted it—needed it. And then it all changed. The other deserted me—she got me into that mess and then she left and I was stuck and I couldn’t get away…”

  “It wasn’t your fault or the fault of your Kit’tara either.”

  “Yeah, right.” She looked away.

  “Look at me.” He lifted her chin. “It wasn’t your fault, Emily,” he repeated firmly. “You were in Tenrah—in heat on a planet that knows nothing of such things. But even if you hadn’t been—even if you had been the Earth female you believed yourself to be—he should have stopped when you asked him to.”

  “He said he couldn’t. He said once you push a man too far—”

  “That’s lisht,” he said harshly. “In your language, ‘bullshit.’ A male can always stop—a male with honor will always stop when a female asks him to.”

  Emily wanted to believe him—wanted to let the load of guilt she’d been carrying for years drop away but it was hard…so hard to let go of a burden that had almost become part of her.

  “But the way I was coming on to him…”

  “Was it the way you were acting towards me?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.

  Emily nodded and hung her head.

  “Yes, like I said. Exactly.”

  “Look at me, Emily.” He lifted her chin again. “The way you touched me…the feel of you in my arms…and most of all your scent…” He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. “Gods,” he nearly groaned, looking at her again. “All these things are incredibly arousing—you are incredibly arousing.”

  “I…I am?” She couldn’t help feeling surprised. For so long she’d thought of herself as just a mousy little kindergarten teacher—a plus sized girl with a slightly pretty face and nothing much else to recommend her. Yet here was this huge Kindred warrior saying he found her “arousing.” How could it be?

  “You are,” he murmured. “Yet I didn’t take what you offered because I knew it was wrong—knew that I was wrong for you.” He frowned. “That bastard who hurt you should have done the same—could have done the same. He should have stopped.”

  “I…he…”

  “Listen…” He looked at her intently. “You had the right to change your mind. You had the right to say no—no matter what you felt or wanted before. When your feelings changed it was your prerogative to end the encounter. He should have accorded you that right and respected your choice.”

  “Thank you.” She couldn’t bear the intensity in his golden eyes and had to look down at her hands. “Thank you, I…I’ve never been able to tell anyone all of it before—not even my sister. I…I don’t feel quite so ashamed anymore.”

  “We have all done things we feel shame for,” he said briefly.

  “What are you ashamed of?” she asked curiously. “I mean, you said you’re an assassin—are you sorry for the people you’ve killed?” Then she bit her lip. Oh God, had she really just asked him that? What had possessed her?

  “That is not the shame I speak of.” His voice was low, almost too low to hear.

  Emily could hear the warning bells going off in her brain but somehow she couldn’t stop herself from asking.

  “What is it then?

  For a moment, she almost thought he might answer. Then his face darkened and he rose abruptly.

  “It was nothing. Nothing that concerns you.”

  Silhouetted in the fire light, he looked absolutely huge—a black shadow with golden flames for eyes.

  “Wait, please…” Emily held out a hand to him but he stepped away from her.

  “It’s true—I have killed again and again,” he said in a low growl and when he looked up at her, his eyes had gone from gold to crimson red. “I have renounced the Goddess and stained my soul black with sin.”

  “You…you have?” Emily heard the squeak in her voice but couldn’t stop it.

  Slowly, he nodded.

  “I have abandoned training, faith, and morality to get where I am and I have never failed to kill my target…until now.”

  “You haven’t?” Another frightened squeak she seemed unable to control. Say what you wanted about the other, but when she was around, Emily certainly felt braver. Just now she felt terribly alone in her own skin. As well as extremely small and vulnerable.

  The huge Kindred nodded again.

  “And do you know why I cannot kill you?”

  “Um…” There didn’t seem to be any reason at all. “I…I…”

  “Because though I have abandoned every other aspect of my former life, I cannot abandon biology. Your scent forbids me to spill your blood. It awakes protective instincts in me that insist you must be shielded at all costs. At all costs.” He emphasized that as if it was very important.

  “So if I smelled different you’d just…just pull the trigger?”

  “Without hesitation.” He was glowering at her now, as if she could help the way she smelled to him. “I am a member of the Verrak. We kill without pity or remorse. Look at me, Emily.” His eyes blazed even brighter. “I…am…Death. And I have never stayed my hand until now.”

  Something flared in her—maybe the other or just her own natural defiance—she didn’t like feeling backed into a corner.

  “Well I’m sorry you can’t bring yourself to kill me,” she snapped.

  “Don’t be.” He looked away, staring into the fire. “I may have ample cause to regret it but you will not. I will protect you though it costs my life to do so.” Abruptly he seemed a little less scary—almost sad, Emily thought.

  “Tragar—”

  “I must go,” he said abruptly. “This will be your room. Make yourself comfortable for the duration of the trip.”

  “But…but how long will that be?”

  But he had already turned and left her sitting on the bed. Emily watched him go, having no idea what she should do or what might happen to her next.

  * * * * *

  Tragar paced outside the room, up and down the metal corridor that led from the living areas of his ship to the bridge. Gods, what was wrong with him? Was he allowing himself to go soft?

  He’d promised himself he would keep her safe and protect her from any harm or other would-be assassins—what he hadn’t promised was to have to reassure her, or to ease her pain, both physically and emotionally.

  But after the spanking, he’d felt obligated to try and allay the discomfort he’d caused by bathing her softly rounded bottom with a cloth soaked in cooling elixir. And then, when she’d told the details of the human male’s attack on her, he hadn’t been able to help himself from trying to ease that pain either. The hurt in her eyes was too much to bear—too much for him to remain silent. He’d wanted to let her know the assault wasn’t her fault. That the guilt didn’t lie with her but with her attacker.

  And then you almost answered her question about your past—about your secret shame. Tragar shook his head at his own foolishness. How often had he pushed that old hurt out of his head? How often had he refused to confront it? And yet the moment she asked him, he was ready to spill his dark past into her lap like so much bilge water. What in the
Seven Hells was wrong with him?

  It’s her scent, he told himself uneasily. It has to be her scent. It’s working on me—making me want to admit things…tell things I’ve never told anyone. I must stand firm—I must be strong enough to keep myself apart…and to keep my hands off her lush body.

  That wouldn’t be easy though. He could still vividly remember the feel of her in his arms—the brief taste he’d had of her lips. Gods, she had no idea how lovely she was—how absolutely irresistible. Still, he had to resist somehow. If he meant to keep her safe he would have to guard her from both the outside forces trying to kill her, and a too-rapid acceleration of her Shift.

  To the list of possible threats, Tragar now added himself. If he couldn’t resist her sweet scent—the scent of a Khalla in heat and needing to be bred—he might as well just fulfill his contract and kill her now. A shot with a sonic rifle would be less painful than a wrong and premature breeding. Especially since she’d already been through it once and the trauma was still lingering with her.

  He shook his head grimly. It was a wonder the rape she had endured hadn’t killed her. But it had delayed her Tenrah considerably. He was certain, however, that she would not be spared again. If he couldn’t control himself, if he took her the way ever fiber of his being urged him to, she would not survive a second premature breeding. Emily must be allowed to go through all four stages of her Shift and then be paired with a proper chosen mate. It was the only way she could be safe.

  I will be strong, Tragar promised himself sternly. I will protect her from everyone…including myself.

  Chapter Ten

  “What am I going to do now?” Emily paced up and down the small but comfortable room the big Kindred had left her in. She wanted to leave it and explore the rest of the ship but she was afraid he might not like that. Was she a prisoner here? She wouldn’t have thought so before. He’d seemed so kind…so understanding there for a while. The way he’d talked to her about what Grayson had done had made her feel better about herself than she’d felt in ages. And then…