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  “We’re a team,” Rone said. “And if Kate can tell me where to start looking, I’ll have a much better chance of catching the scent.”

  “Well, all right…” Thrace shook his head and looked at Commander Sylvan. “I’m glad you have someone with such excellent credentials working on this but to be honest, I still don’t understand why I’m here. I mean, I’m not even Kindred.”

  “No, but you’re the only one who’s seen the girl we’re looking for,” Commander Sylvan said.

  “Only in a vision given to me by Two—that sick bastard,” Thrace growled. The Dark Kindred who had finally been killed by his own scion was still a sore point with him. Because of him, Thrace had nearly lost Trin completely and he would never forget or forgive that.

  “Yes, but that might be enough to give Kate’s gift room to work,” Rone said. “If you could just let her touch you—”

  “I already did that with Commander Sylvan’s kin—the priestess, Nadiah,” Thrace objected. And he’d been reluctant to do it then. There were memories in his past, secrets he didn’t want anyone seeing. Trin was the only one who knew and she loved him anyway. But as far as Thrace was concerned, no one else needed to see what he’d survived.

  The tiny Earth girl seemed to understand his concern.

  “Don’t worry,” she said soothingly. “I’m not interested in looking at your past—just the vision you saw. I won’t go rooting around in your head, honest.”

  “Well…” Thrace frowned. “I’m not even sure what you could see.”

  She shrugged her slim shoulders.

  “Maybe nothing. But maybe I’ll get a flash of where the girl is and be able to lead Rone to her. It’s worth a try, don’t you think?”

  “There is no obligation, of course,” Commander Sylvan said. “But we would greatly appreciate it if you would try to help Rone and his mate find the girl. You know as well as we do what she faces if the Verrak assassin takes her.”

  Thrace sighed. The Verrak were cold and utterly ruthless. Death was the best the girl could hope for if the assassin got to her before they could. Most Verrak killed their target and left them in plain sight—a message to whoever had wanted them dead in the first place. But there were tales of some who took their prey to another location and played with them cruelly before finally taking their lives. He wouldn’t wish that on anyone.

  “Yes, I know. Very well…” He looked at Rone’s petite mate. “I’ll touch hands with you—that’s all. But not in public—not here in the Council Chambers.”

  “Of course not,” Commander Sylvan said swiftly. “Completely understandable. Please feel free to step into the antechamber outside.”

  “Agreed.” Thrace nodded shortly and left the chamber, followed closely by Rone and his mate.

  Once outside with the doors closed, he turned to face them.

  “Well then, let’s get this over with.”

  Silently, Kate held out her hand. It was tiny, even smaller than Trin’s and it was swallowed completely when Thrace took it in his own. She closed her eyes and Thrace watched her warily, waiting to feel her in his brain. But there was nothing—just the feel of her cool, smooth hand in his and the rapid, light beat of her pulse in the tiny, bird-like wrist.

  Gods, he couldn’t help wondering how Rone was able to love her without breaking her. She was so tiny—so delicate looking with her mass of red and gold curls and her pale skin. Was he concerned when they were together that he might hurt her?

  Finally she opened her eyes and looked up at Thrace.

  “Two things—first, I’m tougher than I look.”

  Thrace pulled his hand away quickly.

  “You never said anything about reading thoughts!”

  “I didn’t and I can’t. But sometimes when I touch someone I get a sense of what they’re thinking or feeling. So I appreciate your concern for me but I assure you, Rone is very, very gentle.”

  Thrace was convinced that her mate would be angry but Rone only sighed and shook his head.

  “Worried about you was he? With a big, hulking male like me?”

  Kate nodded.

  “Well, you have to admit you’re a scary looking guy.” She grinned at him and he smiled back.

  “Forgive me,” Thrace said. “I never meant…”

  “It’s all right.” Rone shook his head. “We get that a lot—especially when people find out I’m Wulven.”

  Thrace shook his head.

  “I don’t understand. I’m Havoc myself, not Kindred. And honestly, I’d never heard of Wulven Kindred until now.”

  “We have a double nature,” Rone explained. Much like the Rai’ku Kindred.”

  “Now them I have heard of. My mate’s friend has what the humans call a brother-in-law who is Rai’ku Kindred. ” Thrace frowned. “Don’t they have a ravenous beast within which comes out and devours females?”

  “That’s right.” Rone nodded easily, his blue eyes gleaming.

  “So you’re the same?” Thrace stared at him. It would certainly explain the strange animalistic air of the other male.

  “In a way. Of course, our beast isn’t the same as the Rai’kus’ but it can be deadly to the wrong person.”

  “Which is anyone but the female who tames it.” Kate’s voice held a hint of pride. Clearly she had accomplished this task and had no fear of her mate’s beast.

  “But enough about us,” Rone looked at his mate. “Did you get anything?”

  “Sure did—she’s in Southeast US. Or she was in the past twenty-four hours.”

  “And you know this for sure?” Thrace asked.

  She nodded. “Positive. Where exactly is a little harder to say—maybe the Northern part? Anyway, it helps narrow things down a bit. And I got a visual—if I see it, I’ll know it.”

  “Well then, let’s go,” Rone said. “We can take a shuttle down to the nearest HKR and start looking right away.”

  “You go get the shuttle ready, honey.” Kate spoke to her husband but she was looking at Thrace. “I’ll be there in a minute.”

  Rone gave her an unreadable look but then nodded briefly and left the antechamber.

  Thrace frowned. “I’d better go too. I’m sure my mate—”

  “Trin,” Kate said. “Trin is waiting for you and she doesn’t even know the difficult choice you’re trying to make.”

  “What?” Thrace growled, frowning. “Just how far inside my head did you get?”

  “Farther than I do with a lot of people.” Kate sounded interested. “Not sure why that is. I just wanted to tell you—what you want to do is the right thing. I know it’s tough but you’ll be glad you did it.”

  “I know it’s the right thing.” Thrace was, in an odd way, relieved to be talking to someone about what had been weighing on his mind. “I made up my mind to do it long ago. It’s my mate, Trin—I’m afraid she’ll object.”

  “She may at first.” Kate nodded thoughtfully. “But you need to persist. You want to protect her and the Knowing tells me she’s going to need that protection in the very near future.”

  “Thank you.” Thrace nodded. “Hearing that…brings me peace. I didn’t know if I should bring it up to her or not.”

  “Do it.” Kate nodded decisively. “You’ll be glad you did. Okay, well…” She clapped her hands together. “Rone and I have a girl to go find.”

  “Did you know about him when you first met him?” Thrace asked, unable to help his curiosity. “About his beast, I mean?” It was an intrusive question but since she seemed to know his private business, he had no qualms about questioning hers.

  Kate looked thoughtful.

  “I knew he was dangerous—the most dangerous man I’d ever met. But I just couldn’t keep away—isn’t that funny?”

  “The Goddess works in strange ways sometimes,” Thrace murmured, thinking of his own situation with Trin. “Very strange.”

  “That’s certainly true.” She smiled and nodded at him. “Well, thanks for your help. And good luck with your other
issue.”

  “Thank you.” He nodded back. “I’ll take your advice to heart.”

  “You do that.” And with a final bob of her curly head, she was gone.

  Chapter Eight

  “Where are you taking me? What are you going to do with me? Please let me go!”

  “I am not going to hurt you—I swear it by the Goddess,” Tragar assured her but his promises seemed to fall on deaf ears. Her eyes were wide and golden again, not surprising since any stress was likely to bring her Kit’tara to the surface.

  Tragar frowned. It might not be surprising but it wasn’t good, either. He had no idea how long it had been since her Tenrah or Shift had started. He’d been watching her from afar for over a solar week but he’d never seen her eyes change color or smelled that hot scent on her before today. Still, she might have been hiding it, trying to suppress it. For all he knew, she could move from the first stage or Kalor to the second stage, Scintil at any moment. And the more upset and agitated she got, the faster her Shift would progress. Seven Hells, he’d heard of some Khalla that went through all four stages—from Kalor to Scintil to Vlammen to Hel—all in a single day. And if that happened…

  If that happens she’ll die.

  The thought worried him so much it was hard to concentrate on the controls of his shuttle. He hit the light refracting tech and punched up the thrusters, getting them into the air so swiftly it pulled a gasp from her lips.

  “Oh my God—where are we going?”

  “I told you,” Tragar said patiently. “Back to my ship first. Then eventually to Rageron.”

  “But you can’t just take me away from my home! I mean, I’ve never even been to Europe—hell, I’ve never even been to Canada—and now you’re taking me away from my whole entire planet? You can’t do that!” She watched with wide eyes as the Earth retreated below them.

  “I can and I must. Both to protect you from the forces outside that threaten you…as well as the ones within.” He turned to her, letting the autopilot guide the small shuttle through the atmospheric layers. “How long have you been feeling it?”

  “What?” She shook her head. “What are you—”

  “Don’t play games,” Tragar growled. “I see your eyes.”

  “My…” She put a hand to her cheek as if she could feel the color change. “Is…are they doing it again?”

  He nodded shortly. “How long have you been having the waves of heat—those that betoken Kalor, the first stage of Tenrah? Tell me how long you’ve been feeling them and be accurate—your life may depend on it.”

  “I…I don’t know.” She shook her head. “Ten days? Two weeks…maybe more? They came on so gradually. I thought—I hoped—I was imagining them.”

  “What about dreams?” Tragar demanded. “Any prophetic dreams lately?”

  “Prophetic dreams?” She shivered. “No, nothing like that. Just nightmares.”

  “They can take the form of nightmares sometimes,” Tragar said grimly. “They often do.”

  “I…” She shook her head. “I don’t want to think about that. How do you know all these things have been happening to me anyway? The dreams, the heat waves…the way my eyes keep going all weird?”

  “I was taught to recognize the signs of a Khalla as part of my malehood ceremony,” Tragar said, throwing a glance at her. “Not that I thought I would ever see one—your kind are extremely rare.”

  “Okay, look—what was your name again? Tigger? Taber?” She turned to face him, dragging her gaze from the retreating Earth.

  “Tragar,” he supplied. “Rivin Tragar.”

  “Right. So, Tragar, what even is a Khalla?” “You keep saying it and throwing around all these weird, foreign Kindred words I don’t understand. What is it you think I am? Tell me now so we can clear this up and you can take me home before we get out past Pluto or something.”

  Tragar frowned.

  “A Khalla is a female Beast Kindred, of course. A very special kind of female.”

  “But I thought your people didn’t have females—isn’t that why you instituted the draft where all eligible Earth girls have to register and might get called to the Mother Ship?”

  “The Kindred do have females, they are just extremely rare. But even the other branches of Kindred produce more females than we Beast Kindred do.”

  “So Rageron is a whole planet populated only by males?” She shook her head. “How is that possible? How do you not just die out?”

  Tragar gave a soft growl of frustration.

  “No, the whole planet is not populated only by males. We do have females—those from the native people of Rageron whom the Kindred interbred with. But such a mating almost always produces a male child. For a male Beast Kindred to mate with a female and produce a female Kindred child—that is rare. Even more rare is when that female turns out to be a Khalla—only a few are born in every generation.”

  “And how are Khalla different from regular females?” Emily asked. “I mean, how can you tell when a girl’s going to turn out to be one?”

  “They look different from the rest of our people—before they go through their Tenrah, anyway.” He nodded at her.

  “Okay, and after they go through it?”

  “They are special—some are imbued with powers or gifts that can only come from the Goddess. In fact, the Khalla are believed by many to be a physical manifestation of the Goddess—her way of walking among us for a time.”

  “Okay, nobody ever accused me of being a goddess before.” She shook her head. “So you only have two or three of these special Khalla born every generation on your planet which is light years away from mine and somehow you think I’m one of them? That doesn’t make any sense.”

  He shrugged. “To me either but there it is.”

  “Do you think that’s why I was…was targeted? Why that Dark Kindred guy wanted me dead?” She shook her head. “God, I don’t even know any Dark Kindred. I mean, other than that horrible time when they were attacking the Earth…but that’s over now. We’re at peace.”

  “I do not know why he wanted you dead but he was very definite about it,” Tragar said grimly. “Whether it has to do with you being Khalla or not is anyone’s guess.”

  “But if he sent those dog things after me—those sniffers—is he going to send more?”

  “It’s a possibility,” Tragar admitted. “But I don’t want you to worry about it.” He looked at her intently. “As long as you are with me, you’re safe, Emily. What we need to worry about now is your Shift. The Tenrah of a Khalla is a very dangerous and difficult time.”

  “You act so sure that I’m one of these people. These Khalla.” She still sounded skeptical.

  “I know you are—your scent is unmistakable.”

  “How can it be if you’ve never seen or, uh, smelled a Khalla before?” she demanded.

  Tragar took a deep breath though he knew it probably wasn’t advisable. Her scent was like a drug—a warm, feminine musk that spoke of heat and need. It drew him despite his iron will and the vow he had taken when he entered the Verrak never to seek female companionship again. Clearly the little female was unaware of it herself—she was looking at him expectantly, waiting for an answer.

  “I know because I’m male. I cannot mistake the scent of a female in heat,” he said at last.

  “In…in heat?” She looked at him uncertainly, twisting her fingers together in her lap. “You’re saying I’m—”

  “That is what the Tenrah is—the passage into sexual maturity for a female of my kind.”

  “See, that’s just ridiculous,” she scoffed, sounding relieved. “I mean, I’ve been, uh, sexually mature since I was twelve and started my period.” Her cheeks got pink. “Not that I want to discuss things like that with a complete stranger but if that’s what it takes to convince you—”

  “First blood does not mean a Khalla is ready to breed,” he interrupted.

  “But I’m thirty-one!” she protested. “I mean, the idea that I’m only just now rea
dy to…to…” Her cheeks got positively red. “It’s just ridiculous.”

  “Thirty-one cycles is not old for a female of my kind but it would betoken a late Tenrah.” Tragar frowned. “Something must have caused your natural Shift to come later.” He raised an eyebrow at her. “Some traumatic incident—some mental or emotional anguish?”

  She bit her lip and looked away. Tragar cursed himself for a fool. He knew what that blond male had done to her. Gods, why hadn’t she allowed him to punish him properly earlier? He’d had to content himself with breaking every bone in the male’s dominant hand to keep him from touching a female against her will again, but it wasn’t nearly enough to pay for the pain he saw flickering in Emily’s eyes.

  “Forgive me,” he said roughly. “I should not have—”

  “Never mind,” she interrupted quickly. “The point is, you’re saying you can tell I’m a Khalla by the way I smell. Well…” she lifted her forearm, brought it to her nose and sniffed deeply. “I don’t think I smell any different.” She looked at him defiantly. “Not a bit.”

  “That is not where your mating scent comes from,” Tragar growled softly, allowing his gaze to drift to the V between her thighs.

  “Oh!” Hastily she crossed her legs. “But I—”

  “Even if you discount your scent, the signs of a Khalla entering Tenrah are there.” He gave her a long, steady look. “Your eyes…the waves of heat…the dreams…your Kit’tara coming forward.”

  “You said that before too—what is a kit…kit…?”

  “Kit’tara. It is the Khalla’s hidden or second self. It is the female you will become when your Tenrah is completed.”

  “What?” He seemed to have struck a nerve because she sat up straight and looked suddenly much more anxious. “You’re kidding, right? You’re saying that the other is going to take over completely? That she wins?”

  “Well, essentially—”

  “No!” She banged her small fist on the console, causing the ship to swerve alarmingly. “No, she doesn’t get to win—she doesn’t get to take over! I won’t let her—I’m Emily—I’m me—not some alien, feral wolf girl with golden eyes and a taste for blood!”