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  Was a virgin, she thought. I was, but not anymore. I’m no longer intact. The Sisters always said no proper male would want a female if she wasn’t intact.

  “I don’t care if she was a virgin or not—she’s still a little slut. Consorting with a slave no less!” the Queen hissed, shaking her. “You’re lucky your father and I found a husband for you, young lady—if not I would be casting you out on the street.”

  “Mother please—I’m sorry!” Brynn cried. “I can’t help it—I love Varin! Please…please don’t make me marry Sovereign X’izith! If you don’t want me anymore, just disown me and let me go. But don’t force me to join with a male I don’t love!”

  “The deal is done—you’re bought and paid for,” her mother snapped. “And speaking of deals, the one you made with me is off.”

  “What?” Brynn looked up at the Queen with wide, wet eyes and felt a tremble of dread run through her. “What do you mean?”

  “Your Kindred slave is as good as dead.” The Queen gave her a look of cruel satisfaction. “I hope you enjoyed saying goodbye to him, Brynnalla because you’ve signed his death warrant yourself.”

  “What? No! Please, no!” Brynn gasped and struggled, trying desperately to get back to Varin. He had risen, still chained to the wall with blood dripping from his wrists. There was a look of pure rage in his eyes—a hate so deep it could only be born of love.

  Love for me, Brynn thought miserably. But I killed him—it’s my fault he’s going to die!

  “I might be a slave,” the big Kindred growled, glaring at the Queen. “But I care more for your daughter than you ever did. You’re supposed to protect your children—not fucking sell them off to the highest bidder!”

  “No more of this!” the Queen declared. “I will not stand by and be insulted by a—

  “What is the problem? I expected the Princess delivered to me some time ago. Where is she?”

  The buzzing, familiar voice made Brynn’s skin crawl. With dread, she looked up and saw the thin, awkward form of Sovereign X’izith coming down the dungeon hallway. He was so tall he had to stoop, crouching over in an almost insectile way with his elbows splayed awkwardly out to the sides as he rubbed his filthy hands together.

  “Oh, my deepest apologies, Sovereign!” the Queen exclaimed. “I had just finished taking care of the matter with the Princess and I was about to get her cleaned up and bring her to you.”

  “You will do this at once! You have your payment and I tire of waiting,” X’izith hissed. “You will prepare the Princess and place her—with the proper tribute of a new bride going to her husband—in the ship I have waiting just outside your balcony. It will take her to my home planet.”

  “Oh, of course, Sovereign.” The Queen dropped a little curtsey. “And…if you do not mind me asking, where will you be?”

  “I will follow shortly thereafter,” X’izith hissed. “But first I would have words with this male who disrespected and attacked me.”

  “Oh yes.” The Queen’s face hardened. “Do just as you please with him—he is under a death sentence anyway.”

  “No!” Brynn struggled in her mother’s grip but she couldn’t break free. “No—don’t hurt him!”

  “Do not worry yourself, Princess…” X’izith’s strange purple eyes jittered in their sockets and his thin lips twisted into a parody of a smile. “I will not touch your beloved slave. I wish only to speak to him.”

  “No!’ Brynn cried again. “Varin!”

  “Brynn!” he shouted but then, with the Queen on one side and the captain of the men at arms on the other, Brynn was being dragged down the dungeon hallway, separated forever from the only man she would ever love. Though she fought and cried and kicked, she couldn’t get free.

  As they rounded the corner, she felt her heart die inside her.

  Never, she thought. I’ll never see him again…

  Chapter Eighteen

  “Now then, slave…” X’izith buzzed, staring down at him. He was a tall son of a bitch—Varin would give him that. The Sovereign reminded him of a death mantis—a predatory insect that came out at night to catch other, smaller bugs and eat them alive.

  “What is it you want to say?” he demanded. “Or did you just want to take a shot at me while I’m chained up and helpless?”

  “Oh, I doubt very much you are ever completely helpless,” X’izith hissed. “You seem most resourceful to me. Which is why I wanted to talk to you. It will give me great pleasure to show you that no matter what you do or how resourceful you are, you will be unable to change the course of events which I have planned.”

  “What in the Seven Hells are you talking about?” Varin demanded. They were alone now, the two of them—everyone else had left the dungeon to go with the Queen and Brynn. So his words echoed emptily against the stone walls.

  “You shall see what I am speaking of.”

  X’izith rose suddenly to his full height so that he loomed over Varin even more. Reaching behind his head, he seemed to be doing something to his scalp. Then, with a sickeningly meaty sound, his face came off, hair and all, to reveal a visage so alien…so wrong…that for a moment Varin struggled to comprehend it.

  Huge compound eyes stared at him unblinking and long, gold-tipped antennae unfolded to scan the air. In place of a nose and mouth the thing had curving, serrated mandibles that looked sharp enough to bite off a finger…or a hand.

  Goddess above—it’s a fucking insect! he thought, his heart seizing in his chest. A huge one—like the one that carried off Amalthia!

  “You—” he choked, and then couldn’t get out any more.

  “Yes, me.” the insect thing buzzed in a high, hissing voice. He sounded enormously pleased with himself—if insects could have emotions, that was. “I, Sovereign Ysldred X’izith of the Hive, wish to declare myself to you before I go.”

  “Declare what? What…what do you want here?” Varin demanded, his voice sounding hoarse and unreal in his own ears.

  “What do I want with Galen Prime, you mean? Why to harvest it, of course.” X'izith’s gold-tipped antennae twitched. “The Hive have had their eye on this ripe little world for some time, but I had to be certain the females were compatible for breeding purposes first.”

  “Breeding purposes?” Suddenly Varin felt sick—so filled with horror that he couldn’t contain it. “The Princess,” he whispered. “Brynn…”

  “Will be my latest bride—filled to capacity with royal grubs.” X'izith clicked his curving, serrated mandibles together and Varin could have sworn the bastard was giving him a self-satisfied grin.

  “You can’t,” he growled. “Leave her alone! Stay away from her!”

  “I will breed her, slave—do you hear me?” X'izith hissed. “Breed her and fill her with my grubs. They will fill her, growing and growing until they eat their way out of her slender little body and she dies in agony. Do you hear me?”

  “I’ll kill you!” Varin raged. A red curtain of pure fury dropped over his vision—surging forward, he yanked against his chains. “I’ll fucking kill you, you son of a bitch!” he roared.

  “You will not live to see the light of another day,” X'izith buzzed in smug satisfaction. “Nor will any who live on this little planet. As soon as I have word that the ship with the Princess on it is on the way to my Hive, we will descend on this little world and pick it clean. There will be nothing left—not a single inhabitant will survive our culling. The females will be taken for the breeding and gestation of common grubs and the males and children will be thrown into the flesh pits for food. All…shall…die.”

  “No…no!” Varin shook his head, unable to take in the enormity of what the tall, insectile bastard was saying. “You can’t do that—can’t kill so many innocents!”

  “I can and I will.” X'izith stood back and cocked his head to one side, staring at Varin with his black, soulless eyes. “I just wanted you to know that before I left, slave. I wanted you to die in agony…and now I am certain you will.” He clicked his man
dibles with satisfaction. “Just pray your mistress, the Queen, kills you before I and my soldiers come to do it. No matter what method of death she chooses, it will be easier than what we have planned.”

  Then he put back on his mask and strode out into the stone corridor, his boots clicking emptily in the echoing silence.

  * * * * *

  Varin shouted himself hoarse, trying to get someone’s attention—anyone who would listen. Anyone who would stop Brynn from getting on that ship and arm the planet against the coming invasion.

  But the one who finally came to see him was the Queen.

  “What is it, slave?” she demanded, glaring at him. “If you’re protesting your own death, don’t bother. Luckily for you, the slavers I had Lady Tasmina send a message to sent me an offer too good to refuse—even for the satisfaction of killing you.” She arched an eyebrow. “So you’re to be sold, not killed. Not that I told Brynnalla that before she left. Let her think you dead—it’s what she deserves, the little slut!”

  “No.” Varin shook his head. “No, tell me you didn’t already send her off on that ship! Tell me you didn’t give her to him!”

  “She went to be with her new husband,” the Queen said primly. “There’s no use getting upset about it—ladies are wed and leave their home planets. It happens all the time.”

  “And does it happen all the time that the lady’s new husband is a fucking insect?” Varin demanded.

  “What?” The Queen glared at him. “What are you talking about? You’re not even making sense!”

  “I’m talking about the fact that Sovereign X'izith isn’t humanoid,” Varin exclaimed. “After you left he stayed here to gloat—and the first thing he did was to remove his mask.”

  “Mask? What mask?” the Queen demanded.

  “The mask that makes him look almost humanoid but not quite. Think about it,” Varin told her urgently. “You know there’s something wrong with him! His hair is a strange color…his limbs are all off at odd angles… he even smells wrong!”

  “No.” The Queen frowned. “He’s simply from a different species. And if his features seem a bit strange…”

  “A bit strange?” Varin roared. “His eyes move around in their sockets like a pair of fucking balls—bouncing around like they’re not looking at anything. And that’s because they’re not—his true eyes, the ones he had under the mask, are huge—insect’s eyes! He’s an insect!”

  The Queen began to look uneasy but she shook her head.

  “That’s ridiculous. A giant insect dressed as a man—who ever heard such desperate fairy stories? You ought to be ashamed of yourself, slave.”

  “Listen to me,” Varin begged her in a rough voice. “I’m not making this up! He told me he intends to strip all of Galen Prime once he’s sure the Princess is well on her way to his Hive. And as for her…as for Brynn…” He swallowed, his throat dry with dread and horror. “He wants to implant her with his…with his Goddess damned seed. He said he’ll fill her with fucking grubs. Do you hear me?”

  The Queen’s eyes had been growing wider and wider but now her face clenched tight and she gave a short, sharp shake of her head.

  “No,” she said. “You’re lying. And I won’t hear any more of it. Guards!” she called down the corridor. “Come escort this slave to the merchant who is waiting at the top of the dungeon stairs. He has already been paid for—they can be off at once.”

  “No!” Varin struggled as they came forward to unlock him. “No, you have to let me go—go to the Princess. And then you need to mobilize the entire fleet! Tell the Master of Ships he has to—”

  “Enough—I won’t listen to another word of this fear-mongering!”

  Raising the silver remote to his collar, the Queen pressed a button and Varin felt a surge of the purest agony he had ever felt stab through him. It was so great, he felt like his head was exploding.

  No, the Princess—must get to Brynn!

  He struggled, fighting as hard as he could but at last the pain was too much. With a final shout, his vision filled with a burst of brilliance and he sagged in his chains, unconscious.

  Chapter Nineteen

  “Finally waking up, eh? Took you long enough. It’s been near on a solar week since they brought you in.”

  The unfamiliar voice in his ear made Varin jerk awake, his eye scanning the darkness. He was chained somewhere—maybe in the hold of a ship? He could hear the hum of the engines around him and there was also the sound of many people breathing or shifting restlessly in their sleep.

  “Slaver,” he remembered aloud. “I was sold to a slaver—the Queen sold me.” There was a thick manacle around his left wrist, covering his obedience band which still throbbed despite the way he’d shredded his arms almost to the bone trying to get free and save Brynn from her fate.

  I failed her…failed her and they took her away…

  The memory surged through him and made him yank on the thick chain that bound him to the wall. He had to get loose! Had to get back to her and save her before that evil insect bastard did what he had promised!

  “Don’t bother trying to get free,” the voice beside him advised. “It’s a fool’s errand, so it is. These manacles and chains they got on us are pure titano-silver. Ain’t no getting out of one—lessen you’re willing to cut your damn hand off.”

  “I will if I have to,” Varin said grimly. “Anything to get out of here and get back to where I need to go.”

  “Oh, and where’s that? Back to Brynnalla of Galen?” his companion asked.

  “How did you—wait…” Varin realized he was bare-chested. “You must have read her name on me.”

  “It’s kinda hard to miss,” the other voice said dryly. “And it’s not always so dark in the hold. Sometimes they give us a bit of light.”

  As he spoke, the ship lurched, causing a rustling and a few half-voiced protests from the other passengers—(other slaves Varin wondered?) A nearby door swung open a crack and a shaft of light crept in—enough for him to see his companion.

  He was an older male, balding and paunchy with a strange set of intricate blue designs tattooed on both cheeks and temples. He saw Varin studying him and grinned.

  “Yeah, I ain’t much to look at, am I? Nothing like so fine a specimen as yourself. You might wonder why the slavers are botherin’ to transport my sorry ass across the system.”

  “Why are they?” Varin asked bluntly.

  “Why, because my first master did me a great service, lad—he had my brain reconfigured. I’m a Tempath.”

  Varin had heard of such beings—those whose brains had been altered to hold vast amounts of information—far more than even the biggest computer system. Because of their vast storage capacity and the fact that locking information inside a living being was more secure than trusting it to a machine, Tempaths were often sent great distances with secret communications. They were considered the ultimate in knowledge storage and secure transfers of information.

  He frowned. “I have heard of such things but I’ve never met one of your kind,” he said to the male beside him.

  “Well, I’m pleased to meet you—Jorath’s the name. And you are…?”

  “Varin,” Varin said. “You must have seen a lot in your time.”

  “I have. I’ve been all over the galaxy and beyond,” the old male boasted. “Even been beyond Night’s Window.”

  Night’s Window—also known as “The Blind” by some peoples—was a vast cloud of cosmic dust that ran for light years in every direction. It was considered impenetrable by everyone—at least, everyone Varin had ever heard of.

  “Nobody’s been through Night’s Window,” he said, frowning. “You’re joking—or lying to me.”

  “If I’m lying then why do I know what you are?” Jorath challenged. “You’re Kindred, through and through—I knew it the first minute I saw you.”

  “You know my people?” Varin sat up, suddenly interested. “You’ve seen others like me?”

  “Aren’t many left on
this side of the Blind,” the old Tempath said. “But on the other side, there are all kinds of Kindred. Beast Kindred…Blood Kindred…Twin Kindred…” He looked at Varin curiously. “What kind are you?”

  Varin shook his head.

  “I don’t know. I have no memory of my early years. No memory of anything before my bonding with my Mistress, Princess Brynnalla.”

  Just saying her name made his heart ache. Gods, what must she be going through right now? Had she reached the Hive which X’izith had spoken of yet? Was he hurting her even now?

  “Gods!” he muttered and yanked again on his chain.

  “Simmer down, Kindred,” Jorath said dryly. “Even if you did manage to get free, there’s not a hell of a lot you could do in mid flight. We’re due to dock at Helion Gamma in a few more solar hours—that’s the place to make a break for it. If you don’t mind having holes burned in you by one of the slavers’ blaster, that is.”

  “Helion Gamma…where is that in relation to Galen?” Varin muttered to himself, trying to think. “Or to Zhymur for that matter?”

  That was the name of X’izith’s home planet, wasn’t it? He had only what the Queen had said in passing to go on but he hoped she’d gotten the name right. It was his only clue to Brynn’s whereabouts.

  “Zhymur?” The old Tempath’s voice was suddenly hoarse. “Why in the universe would you want to go to such a hell hole as that cursed place?”

  “You know it?” Varin looked at him eagerly.

  “I know of it.” The male shivered. “More than I want to, anyway. One of my masters was trying to find a way to conquer the Hive. He sent spies—a lot of them. Only one got out.” He tapped his temple. “I carry his memoirs here, poor bastard. What he saw there drove him mad.”