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“Nadiah? Oh, thank God, she’s waking up.”

  Nadiah, blinked and caught a fuzzy image of Olivia’s pretty face hanging over her like an anxious moon. “Wha?” she whispered, her mouth too dry to speak properly. “Wha…what’s wrong?”

  “You fainted.” It was Sylvan, also leaning over her and studying her with his cool, blue clinician’s eyes. But far back in their icy depths there was worry as great as Olivia’s, Nadiah could tell.

  “I did?” She struggled to sit up—someone had brought her to the med station and put her in a healing cot for some reason—but many hands pushed her back down.

  “Lie still. You scared me to death.” It was Detective Rast, frowning at her sternly. “You were out like a light and I didn’t know what the hell happened.” He gave Sylvan an unfriendly look. “I still don’t.”

  “You don’t need to, Rast.” The normally cool and collected Sylvan looked annoyed. “It doesn’t concern you.”

  “The hell it doesn’t.” Rast glared at the other male. “It happened right in front of me. I’d say I have a right to know exactly what’s going on.”

  “And I’d say you’re wrong about that.” Sylvan frowned. “Continuing in that vein, now that Nadiah is awake, I need to have a word with her. Privately. So if you could just step outside…?” He raised an eyebrow at Rast, who looked prepared to be stubborn. But before the human detective could open his mouth, Olivia took his arm.

  “Come on, Detective. Let’s tell everyone that Nadiah’s going to be all right. They’re all worried to death out there and I need someone to help spread the good news.”

  Rast frowned at her, obviously knowing he was being manipulated but not quite sure how to handle it. Finally he put a hand on Nadiah’s knee and looked into her eyes directly. “Are you all right?” he asked, his deep voice surprisingly gentle. “Just tell me, sweetheart. I need to hear you say it before I go.”

  For some reason, Nadiah’s heart started thudding in her chest and she found it hard to meet those truegreen eyes of his. “I…I’m fine,” she finally managed to say. “Just fine.”

  “That’s bullshit, but at least you’re conscious.” He frowned. “I get that I’m not wanted and your cousin here wants me to keep my nose out of your business, but if there’s anything I can do—”

  “Thank you, but no.” Nadiah shook her head. “There’s nothing you can do.” Unless you can break a long standing blood bond, that is… But she didn’t say it out loud. Rast was human, not Kindred. Of course he couldn’t break the bond that bound her inextricably to her home world, so many thousands of light years away.

  “All right, then.” He patted her knee once and then withdrew. “I’ll be outside if you need me. For anything.” With a last frown at Sylvan, he followed Olivia out of the room, leaving Nadiah alone with him.

  “Well?” Sylvan rounded on her the minute the door to the small exam room snicked closed. “It’s the blood bond, isn’t it? It’s pulling you back toward Tranq Prime.”

  Nadiah sighed in defeat—there was no use denying it. “Yes,” she whispered, nodding wearily. “I’ve been feeling it for awhile but lately it’s getting worse. It’s almost like he’s yanking on it—trying to pull me back to him across space.”

  Sylvan frowned. “That’s possible, I guess. Depending on the strength of the bond.”

  Nadiah laughed bitterly. “It’s strong, all right. Mamam and Patro made sure of that when they linked me to Yo-dah.” She sighed. “I guess I should stop calling him by that childhood nickname—it always makes him so mad. I’d better use his formal first name since it seems I have no choice but to join with him. Y’dex.” The name tasted bitter on her tongue. “Y’dex, the one my parents chose for me. And they bound me to him as tightly as they could—that way they could be sure I wouldn’t run off.”

  A reluctant grin twitched the corners of Sylvan’s mouth. “I guess you proved them wrong on that score.”

  “Only for a little while.” Nadiah’s chest felt tight and there was a lump in her throat she couldn’t swallow. “But now…now I’ll have to go back. The pain is getting worse—it’s like someone is twisting a knife right under my heart.”

  “I could tell you were hurting but I had no idea it was getting so bad.” Sylvan sat on the edge of her cot, concern clear on his chiseled features. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Because…” Nadiah’s eyes burned and she blinked them rapidly, hoping to hold back the tears. “Because I knew you’d send me back. And I just wanted a little more time. I kept hoping I’d start dream sharing with someone—anyone. Because anyone would be better than Yo-dah—I mean, Y’dex. But…” The tears came now, she couldn’t stop them. “But the only person I ever seem to dream about is Detective Rast.”

  Sylvan frowned and shook his head. “You can’t dream share with a human, Nadiah. And even if you could, it wouldn’t do you any good.”

  “I know.” She sniffed and blotted her eyes on the sleeve of her tharp. It nuzzled her cheek comfortingly. “I know but it’s like he’s gotten in my head somehow and he doesn’t…doesn’t leave room for anyone else.”

  He sighed. “I’d tell you to make room but I’m afraid it wouldn’t do any good. I can’t let you stay here on the Mother Ship any longer—not when you’re in so much pain.”

  “I know.” Despair welled up inside her, threatening to drown her like a salty, bitter wave. “I know, Sylvan but it’s so hard to go back. So—ahh!” Her words ended in a gasp as a bright bolt of pain stabbed her. It slid between her ribs like a red hot blade, just below the heart, and ripped downwards. Nadiah doubled over in agony, clutching futilely at her chest and belly. The searing pain took her breath away and for a moment the room around her went gray and pinpoints of light danced in front of her vision.

  “Nadiah?” Sylvan pulled her upright, his deep voice filled with fear. “Are you all right?”

  She tried to laugh but the sound came out sounding rusty and weak. “Never better, son of my mother’s sister. I’m ready for a stroll around the sacred grove, can’t you tell?”

  Sylvan frowned. “This is no time to joke. We need to get you back to Tranq Prime and soon.”

  “I know.” The pain had dissipated but Nadiah’s forehead was damp with sweat and her mouth was dry. “I know it, Sylvan. I just hate to let him win—hate the fact that he has so much power over me.”

  “I hate it too,” Sylvan said grimly. “If it were up to me, the whole practice of blood bonding would be abolished. It’s archaic and cruel. And—”

  “Sylvan?” Sophia’s voice from the other side of the door interrupted his thought.

  “What is it, Talana?” he asked. “You can come in.”

  Sophia slipped into the med room and closed the door behind her. “It’s a call on the viewscreen,” she said, and Nadiah saw that her green eyes were troubled.

  Sylvan frowned. “A call from who? Whoever it is, tell them I will get back to them.”

  Sophia bit her lip. “I don’t think this can wait. It’s a call for Nadiah from her parents and…” She looked at Nadiah directly. “And I think your fiancé.”

  Nadiah felt her heart drop like a lead weight. “They’re all calling me at once?”

  Sophia nodded. “I’m afraid so. But, Nadiah, you’re not well—you don’t have to take the call.”

  “Yes, I do.” Nadiah crossed her arms over her chest and shivered. This was the call she’d been avoiding—the moment she’d been dreading from the first second she stepped foot on the Mother Ship for Sophia and Sylvan’s wedding. Now it could no longer be put off. “It’s not just a call, Sophie,” she said quietly. “It’s a summons. And I must go.”

  * * * * *

  Rast kept his head low and his eyes trained on the crack between the two medical drapes which shielded the cot where he was hiding. After leaving the room in the first place, he’d convinced Olivia that he needed to use the john and then slipped back to listen at Nadiah’s door the minute she started talking to Lauren and Kat.

 
Eavesdropping wasn’t exactly the most honorable way to get information but his time as a private detective had taught him that sometimes you got the intel anyway you could. Nadiah had a secret—a secret that was hurting her—and he intended to find out what the hell it was. When he was sure that Nadiah and Commander Sylvan and his wife were far down the corridor, he risked following.

  As he slipped down the long curving metal hallway, he thought about what Sylvan and Nadiah had said. He hadn’t gotten the specific details but it was clear she was being hurt by someone—being forced to go back to her home planet where she obviously didn’t want to go by this blood bond, whatever it was.

  The question is, who’s hurting her? And how can I get to the son of a bitch to hurt him back? He didn’t question the protective instinct that rose in him or the animal rage at the idea of someone causing Nadiah pain. He only knew that it needed to stop, now. And if no one else intended to do anything about it, he sure as hell would.

  There was something else she’d said too—soft words that echoed in his heart as he jogged quietly along behind his targets. “…the only person I ever seem to dream about is Detective Rast,” Nadiah had told her cousin. But there had been despair in her voice when she said it, as though that was a bad thing. And then Sylvan had said something about how she couldn’t dream share with a human—whatever that was.

  Rast couldn’t figure out what dreaming had to do with anything. Come to that, he’d had a few interesting dreams about Nadiah as well. Most of them were ordinary enough—he saw her talking to her friends or walking down the halls of the Mother Ship. But there had been one where she was in the shower with hot, soapy water running down her small but firm breasts…

  Stop it, he told himself sternly. No time for that now.

  And indeed, there wasn’t. Just ahead, he saw Nadiah, Sylvan and Sophia turn into the viewing room—a place he recognized from seeing it from the viewscreen of the Sarasota HKR building down on Earth. His first impulse was to go in with them and confront whoever was calling her. He’d threaten to pound them flatter than a pancake if they didn’t leave her alone. But years of detective work and caution made him pause.

  Get the facts first, he thought grimly, settling in the recessed doorway of the viewing room, just out of sight. Know your enemy.

  Since the three people appearing on the large, rectangular viewscreen were obviously aliens from Nadiah’s home world of Tranq Prime, he thanked fate he’d gotten a shot of the translation bacteria only offered on the Kindred Mother Ship. Originally he’d gotten it to help him understand different languages on Earth, now it appeared the bacteria would be much more helpful away from his home planet.

  Two of the people were older and dressed in furs—obviously Nadiah’s parents. Rast could see the family resemblance in their tall, slender bodies and blonde hair, not to mention the mother’s aristocratic features. But there the resemblance ended. The coldness in their blue eyes was nothing like the lively warmth that animated Nadiah’s—at least when she wasn’t at death’s door. And the look of stern disapproval on their haughty faces made it clear that she was in some kind of trouble.

  But as compelling as the parents were, Rast found his gaze drawn to the young man who stood between them the most. He was tall and thin but there was a wiry strength to his muscles that couldn’t be discounted—obviously he was stronger than he looked. His hair was a blond so fair it was almost white and his eyebrows and eyelashes were even lighter. They seemed to melt into his pale skin giving him the odd, lashless look of a white rabbit.

  Like Nadiah’s father, he was wearing the traditional male attire of Tranq Prime—a furry skirt looking thing Rast had learned was called a tharp and fur boots made from the hide of a vranna. The boots and tharp were both dark purple and they should have looked ridiculous on his thin, pale form. But the young man wore them with a patrician air of belonging, an unconscious arrogance that somehow put him above common concerns.

  Know your enemy, Rast thought again, studying the young man closely. Could this be Nadiah’s intended—the one called Yo-dah or Y’dex that she’d spoken briefly about back in Sarasota? Rast had thought the guy’s name was unintentionally hilarious but he had no urge to laugh now.

  There was a greedy look in Y’dex’s pale, bulging blue eyes as he looked at Nadiah’s slender form. The look of a rightful owner about to claim his property. And the property, apparently, was Nadiah.

  Chapter Three

  “Mamam… Patro,” Nadiah greeted her parents. “And Yo-dah—I mean, Y’dex,” she added reluctantly, nodding at the tall, lanky figure of her fiancé. “How are you?”

  Y’dex sneered at her, his thin face twisting in an ugly way. “I think the question is how are you, my dear one? Are you feeling quite well, lately?”

  Nadiah lifted her chin. “Yes, perfectly well, thank you.”

  He glared at her. “You’re lying.”

  “Of course not.” Nadiah shook her head, determined not to let him know how she really felt. “I’m fine. So if you simply called to ask about my well being, you can be assured of my health and we can end this conversation now.”

  Y’dex’s face twisted into an angry sneer. “You know that isn’t why we called.”

  “Nadiah, it’s time you came home,” her mother cut in. “We let you go to attend Sylvan’s bonding ceremony but that was ages ago. Now that it’s over, you need to get back to Tranq Prime.”

  “You didn’t let me go—I escaped.” Nadiah crossed her arms over her chest. “What makes you think I’m in a hurry to come home again?”

  Her father frowned. “You will come home, young lady. We have your bonding ceremony all planned.”

  “For the second time,” her mother emphasized, frowning. “And we expect you to be here this time.”

  Nadiah’s heart fisted in her chest, but she tried to keep her voice even and light. “Let’s be reasonable about this, Maman, Patro. Times have changed. I don’t want to be bonded to Yo—Y’dex anymore and I’m sure he doesn’t really want to be bonded to me.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong.” Y’dex smiled at her nastily. “I very much want our bonding to take place, my lovely Nadiah. I am anxiously awaiting it—almost as anxiously as the bonding night that will follow.”

  “Never.” Nadiah couldn’t keep the revulsion out of her voice. “I will never give myself to you.”

  “Oh, you won’t have to give yourself, my lovely.” Y’dex’s grin turned suddenly malicious and cruel. “I’ll be more than happy to take you.”

  “Maman, Patro, do you hear this?” Nadiah appealed to her parents. “Do you hear what he’s saying? He’s planning to rape me. Don’t you care what’s going to happen to me once your precious bonding ceremony is completed?”

  Her father looked uncomfortable but her mother merely frowned. “Our law recognizes no such crime after bonding. As your mate, Y’dex may do what he wishes and you must not complain.”

  Sophia, who had been standing beside Sylvan and squeezing his hand convulsively, could apparently no longer be silent. “So you’re saying that once they’re married, he can do whatever he wants to her and nobody cares? What’s wrong with you people?”

  Nadiah’s mother sniffed. “If it isn’t Sophia Waterhouse from that barbaric little backwater of a planet, Earth. What right have you to judge us, surface dweller?”

  Sophia’s cheeks turned pink with anger. “I have every right! You’re forcing Nadiah into a loveless marriage where she’s going to be abused. Now who’s barbaric?”

  “Talana…” Sylvan stroked her hair soothingly. “Gently, my darling,” he murmured. “Let me try.” Stepping forward, he nodded at Nadiah’s parents. “Greetings, Zeelah, Grennly.”

  Nadiah’s Maman and Patro nodded back genially enough and for a moment Nadiah felt a stab of hope. Maybe they would listen to Sylvan—he was older, an adult in their eyes instead of a naughty, wayward child who had run away from home—which was how they viewed her.

  “Nadiah is happy here on
the Mother Ship,” Sylvan began, obviously trying to pick his words carefully. “And she’s safe, under my protection. I do not think she wishes to return to Tranq Prime to be bonded. And since the blood bond was made when she was still a child, before she knew her own mind and heart, I think you should cancel the commitment you made on her behalf and let her go.”

  “Let her go?” Nadiah’s mother looked horrified. “And dissolve the connection we’ve planned with the Licklow family for years? Lose the status of joining with such a prestigious clan and adding our bloodline to theirs? Never!”

  “Besides, Kindred,” Y’dex put in. “You know as well as anyone else you can’t simply cancel a blood bond. It must be challenged and broken.” He raised one nearly-white eyebrow at Nadiah. “Have you found a Kindred champion to challenge me, my lovely one?”

  Nadiah hung her head. Goddess, how she wished she could answer that question in the affirmative. But there was no one to help—no one to undertake the burden she’d had thrust upon her at such an early age. She was on her own.