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Cursed Page 3


  “Well, I’m not. So don’t talk to me.” Her eyes flicked to his once more in the mirror and just as quickly flickered away. Stavros noticed that her cheeks were dark pink. Had he discomforted her somehow? The thought was oddly intriguing—as was the sweet scent that rose from her small body. It reminded Stavros of the Earth plant called honeysuckle. It must be her perfume—an artificial scent many Earth females wore for some reason. It was very pleasant but even better was the warm, feminine musk underneath it.

  Stavros shifted his feet and legs in the cramped back seat and another scent, not nearly as pleasant, rose to greet him. He grimaced. Apparently he hadn’t been as fast as he’d thought when the male he had threatened had voided his bladder. The male had been wearing the truncated trousers Earthlings called “shorts” and his urine had obviously splattered the lower front of Stavros’s leathers and his boots.

  Seven Hells, Stav swore to himself. At least the leather of his trousers had kept the urine from soaking in and touching his skin but it was still unpleasant to be wearing the waste fluids of the other male.

  They were getting farther and farther from the lights of town, the car taking a steep turn as it entered a twisting trail leading up and up and up. From the windows Stavros caught glimpses of trees and bushes and very occasionally, a lone dwelling. He estimated they had gone quite a way—possibly farther than he could walk on foot if he wanted to get back to the HKR building before dawn. It was a good thing he knew how to drive an Earth car—he might have to “borrow” this one once he escaped.

  In the meantime, however, the itching, tickling sensation in his brain had grown fainter and less insistent. Stavros wasn’t sure if whoever was trying to contact him was giving up or if the signal was somehow being blocked out by the bulk of the mountain they were climbing. It didn’t matter though—no matter how faint the signal became he still had to answer it.

  No matter what he had to do, he would get away at the first opportunity and get back to the HKR building.

  * * * * *

  Charlie sighed as she turned the car off the main road and entered the rough, rutted dirt path that served as her driveway. She lived in a genuine log cabin which had been built around the turn of the twentieth century. It had been falling to ruin before the former owner had bought it and remodeled it extensively. Charlie had gotten it for a song when he had to move away because he was a friend of her father’s—or had been before her dad passed away from a stroke the year before.

  It was a beautiful home but the location was fairly remote and isolated—she only had two neighbors and neither of them was within hearing distance even if she shouted. Charlie had always liked the isolation in the past. Even though getting up and down the mountain during the winter snows could be a bitch, she loved the peace and quiet. Now, however, her house’s lonely location worried her. She was up here alone with a dangerous prisoner—a dangerous, extremely large prisoner. Which meant she was going to have to be on her guard every minute.

  A sharp cramp from the vicinity of her pelvis reminded her that wasn’t going to be easy. Her period was coming fast—she needed to get the big Kindred secured quickly before the pain made it hard to function. She just hoped this wasn’t going to be one of the really bad ones.

  About once or twice a year she had a period with cramps so bad they were actually debilitating. Comparing these to her regular cycle was like comparing a light tension headache to a migraine. During these “below-the-belt migraines,” as Charlie had come to think of them, the only thing that helped even a little were prescription muscle relaxers. Unfortunately, as well as easing the cramps some, the meds also made her loopy and completely unable to drive or work.

  Since the “migraine periods” were a fairly rare occurrence, Charlie could usually take a day off work and stay in bed when one of them hit her. She didn’t like to do that—it made her feel week and girly. But there was no arguing with the stabbing, grinding cramps that overwhelmed her. They felt like someone had cut open her abdomen and was slicing up her insides with a meat cleaver. She was no good to anyone while she was in that much pain—there was no cure but to take the meds and sleep it off.

  Please, not tonight, she thought, as another, stronger cramp stuck her. I don’t need a bad one tonight. Not when she had the big Kindred to deal with. There was no way she could take her muscle relaxers with him in her house. She would have to remain hyper-vigilant at all times and being strung out on pain meds was not an option.

  Another cramp struck like an angry horse kicking her in the belly and she heard a soft noise that sounded like a grunt of pain from the back seat. Dragging her mind away from her own discomfort, she parked the car and looked in the rearview at her prisoner. The big Kindred’s eyes were narrowed and his jaw was clenched.

  “You have a problem?” she asked sharply.

  “I don’t,” he replied, frowning. “But—”

  “What is it?” Charlie was ready to get out and escort him into her house. She had to get moving before her period fully arrived. “Come on—speak now or forever hold your peace.” She motioned at him impatiently.

  “Nothing.” He shook his head and looked away. “I am fine.”

  “Good. Now let me tell you how this is going to go.” Charlie held his eyes in the mirror as she talked, despite the fact that it made her really uncomfortable to have eye contact with him for some reason. “First I’m going to get you out of the car,” she said, holding up one finger. “When I do, you’re going to be as quiet and sweet as a little lamb.”

  “A what?” He frowned. “Is that some kind of Earth creature?”

  “It’s a baby sheep,” Charlie said. “And it’s known for its meek and mild temperament.”

  “A lamb…” He appeared to be trying to place it. Suddenly his eyes narrowed. “I know where I’ve heard that—I went out to an Earth restaurant with friends and was served lamb chops with a vivid green goo.”

  “That would be mint jelly, I guess,” Charlie said. Then she got irritated. “Look, we’re getting off subject. The point is, you’re not going to give me any trouble because I’m going to have my Glock on you the whole time.” She drew the gun and held it up to demonstrate.

  He scowled. “I agree that your crude projectile weapon gives you the upper hand but if you think I will sit still and meekly allow you to make me into chops and green goo you are very much mistaken.”

  “Nobody’s getting turned into chops unless they misbehave,” Charlie said steadily. “Is that clear?”

  “Perfectly.” He nodded.

  “Good. So we’re going into the house—my house filled with my stuff. Which means I’m gonna get pissed off good and proper if you break anything or make a mess. I may not be the world’s best housekeeper but I am particular about keeping things in one piece. So no funny business.”

  He blinked. “I wouldn’t dare to engage in humorous activities on your premises.”

  “Good. Because listen up, big fella—you’re huge and I’m just one woman alone—don’t think I don’t know that. What it basically means is that if you put so much as a toe out of line I’ll shoot first and ask questions afterwards. Got it?”

  He nodded soberly. “I understand. I have no margin for error while I am in your domicile.”

  “Got it in one, buddy.” Charlie nodded approvingly. “Okay, so out we go.”

  She climbed out of the car and opened the back door. She expected him to step right out but it wasn’t that easy—the big Kindred was so crammed in he had a struggle getting out. Also, his arms and hands were still bound behind his back which left him little to balance with.

  Finally, Charlie leaned forward and hooked one hand under his muscular arm while keeping the Glock firmly trained on his head.

  “C’mon, big boy,” she muttered. “Let’s—” Suddenly an acrid, unpleasant smell hit her nose. “Hey!” She glared at him. “Don’t tell me you sat back there and pissed yourself!”

  “I most certainly did not,” he growled, his dignity cl
early injured. “It was the male I dragged off the female he was trying to rape. He was intoxicated and fearful for his life—so much that his bladder let go. Some of his urine got on my flight leathers and boots.”

  Charlie made a grimace of disgust as he finally struggled free of the car and stood erect.

  “Well that’s what too much cheap beer will do to you. Not that I’m surprised he wet himself in fear with you behind him—you’re a big son-of-a-bitch.”

  He frowned down at her. “You keep making remarks about my size—I am no larger than most of my kind. It is not my fault that Kindred males are on average, twenty percent larger than human males.”

  “It’s not your fault but it still makes you damn big,” Charlie muttered.

  “It was my understanding that according to Earth customs, it is rude to comment on the shape and size of another person’s body,” he remarked. “I have not said that you have full hips and a rounded posterior—though I might if I was so inclined.”

  “Watch it!” The size of her hips and ass were a definite sore spot with Charlie. “I don’t appreciate personal remarks,” she told him.

  “So it’s permitted for you to talk about me but I cannot talk about you?” he shot back. “Why are you allowed to notice and remark on my size while I am not supposed to mention your luscious backside?”

  “Luscious?” she blurted without thinking.

  “Extremely.” His eyes glinted in the dim glow of her porch light as his gaze traveled over her body.

  Charlie felt her cheeks flaming—the way her looked at her made her feel like she was wearing a leave-nothing-to-the-imagination bikini instead of a professional looking, boring gray pantsuit. For some reason her pulse began to race and her palms were suddenly damp on the handle of her Glock. What the hell was wrong with her? Her strange reaction to the big warrior made her even angrier than his remarks.

  “Look, I don’t care what you think of my ass—you better keep it to yourself, buddy,” she snapped. “That kind of talk will get you shot as fast as acting up will.” She waved the Glock menacingly.

  “Very well,” he said stiffly. “I will refrain from mentioning your personal attributes if you will refrain from mentioning mine.”

  “Deal.” Charlie prodded his arm with the gun. “Now let’s get moving. I don’t have all night.”

  Chapter Four

  They got into the house just before another cramp hit her. It nearly doubled her over and to make matters worse, the big Kindred chose that moment to stumble.

  “Get up!” Charlie snapped at him, trying to ignore the pain. “I don’t have time for this.”

  “Sorry,” he growled, giving her a distinctly unfriendly look. “I was momentarily incapacitated through no fault of my own.”

  “Yeah right, whatever.” Charlie poked him in the back with the gun. “Move forward, straight ahead. First door on the right.”

  He moved in the direction she indicated and stopped in front of the white reinforced wooden door.

  “I cannot go in or work the doorknob unless you free my arms,” he reminded her.

  “Yeah, right—you wish,” Charlie snarled. The cramps had settled down to a dull ache for the moment but she knew soon they would rev into high gear. And instead of being able to take her medicine and lie down, she was stuck guarding this big bastard all night. It didn’t exactly improve her mood.

  The Kindred frowned at her. “You cannot leave my arms bound indefinitely—you yourself said that would result in circulatory and nerve damage and they are already completely numb. I know I am your prisoner but I’m certain you are not allowed to permanently maim me by leaving me shackled.”

  “Fine, whatever.” Charlie reached around him and pushed open the door. “We’ll figure something out. Just get inside.”

  He walked in readily enough, then lifted his head to sniff the air.

  “This is your room,” he said, looking at her.

  “The whole house is mine, in case you didn’t notice.”

  “Yes, but this is where you sleep.” He sniffed again, like a dog trying to catch a scent. “Your essence is everywhere. It is sweet and fresh…and very warm.” His deep voice dipped into a growl on the last word, making her heart pound faster for some reason.

  “Hey, what did I tell you about personal remarks?” Charlie demanded, irritated again by her reaction to him. “Keep it to yourself!”

  He shrugged his broad shoulders. “I was just wondering why you would choose to place me in your own personal sleeping quarters when there are clearly other rooms available in this domicile.”

  “None of your business,” Charlie said through gritted teeth. “Just get over to the bed.”

  She had been planning on putting him in the spare room to start with but she’d admitted to herself reluctantly that it just wasn’t strong enough. Her bedroom was the most secure room in the house. Also, the king sized bed had a heavy, hand-carved oak frame with bedposts as thick as her arm—they ought to hold up even to the strength of a Kindred. She hoped, anyway.

  The Kindred walked over to the bed, staring down at the gold and scarlet patchwork quilt Charlie’s grandma had made her before she passed away. Then he just stood there.

  “What are you waiting for?” Charlie didn’t even try to keep the exasperation out of her voice. “Sit down.”

  He glanced at her. “I would but I do not wish to soil your sleeping platform. I assume you do not wish this colorful covering to smell of the human male’s urine?” He nodded significantly down at his black leather trousers and tall black boots.

  Charlie cursed tiredly under her breath. No, she didn’t want Grandma’s special quilt to smell like the drunk would-be rapist’s pee. It was actually pretty courteous of the big warrior to think about that but she wasn’t in the mood to be grateful. The beginnings of the deep, bone-weariness that marked the advent of one of her truly bad migraine-periods was starting to set in, making her wish she could curl up in the fetal position on the bed herself. But at least for now the cramps had eased a little.

  “Fine,” she said. “Take them off.”

  Obligingly, her prisoner toed off his boots and kicked them aside. But then he just stood there, looking at her. “I will continue if you free my hands. Otherwise, I cannot manage.”

  Charlie wasn’t nearly ready to free his hands yet. Before she did that, she wanted him sitting on the bed ready to be cuffed to the bedposts. But before he sat down, the leather trousers had to come off. She shook her head.

  “Or you can help me, if you wish.” He raised one dark auburn eyebrow at her, as though daring her to take him up on his offer.

  “Fine,” Charlie snapped. “But I’m only doing this to save my grandma’s quilt. Don’t get any ideas.”

  Cursing under her breath again, she held the gun on him with one hand and reached for the front of his leather pants with the other.

  “There are magnetic tabs at the front,” he said, tilting his pelvis towards her helpfully. “If you release them you should be able to pull my leathers down.”

  Keeping the gun on him, Charlie started reach for the front of his trousers…then stopped.

  “Wait a minute—are you wearing underwear?” she demanded. “I want to know what to expect when we get these off of you.”

  “I am wearing underbriefs,” he said shortly. “They look something like the garments your people label ‘shorts’ but then are of a thinner fabric and cling closer to the skin.”

  “Oh. Okay then—good,” Charlie said, somewhat mollified. At least she wasn’t going to get an eyeful of his package when she pulled down his tight leather trousers.

  She took a moment to consider the fact that she was about to de-pants an alien criminal who was also her prisoner right in her bedroom. Surely this was breaking all kinds of rules and the powers that be would not approve. Then again, just having the Kindred here in the first place was a major violation of at least a dozen different protocols so that was just too bad.

  “Here goes,�
�� she muttered. He was wearing a plain black t-shirt so she had to reach under it and grab the top of his waistband. She tugged hard…and nothing happened. She tugged again, harder with the same result. She was just getting ready to give a truly massive pull when her prisoner’s deep voice interrupted her.

  “That isn’t how they work,” he rumbled. “You have to reach in and find the release catch before the magno tabs will detach from each other.”

  “Reach in?” Charlie looked at him sharply. “Listen buddy, if you’re lying because you think I’ll uncuff your hands and arms just to avoid reaching into your britches, you’re sadly mistaken. I’m not afraid of your little trouser snake.”

  “Firstly, I do not keep an Earth reptile in my leathers. And secondly, I am telling the absolute truth,” he said with a straight face. “Think about it—if the magnetic tabs were too easy to release my flight leathers would be in danger of coming off all the time.”

  “Oh, I doubt that,” Charlie muttered. “Considering they appear to be painted on. All right, let’s try again.”

  Taking a deep breath, she slid her fingers into the waistband of his tight leather trousers. His skin was very warm against her knuckles—almost hot as though he had a furnace inside him—and this close, Charlie couldn’t help feeling dwarfed by his huge size. He literally towered over her like a mountain of muscle but she refused to let herself be intimidated.

  You’re the one with the gun, she reminded herself sternly. So keep it together and let’s get this finished.

  She was trying to follow the front seam of his trousers but all she could feel was smooth fabric instead. Where the hell was the damn release he was talking about? She reached further and further down…and then she felt a lot more than fabric. Suddenly something hot and hard and truly massive was bumping against the back of her hand.

  “Hey!” She glared up at the big Kindred, wanting to know if he’d tricked her. To her surprise, his cheeks were red and his jaw was clenched.