25. Kaelus #2
“For research, of course. I wanted to see if males as devoted to their mates as Kindred could be turned savage as long as their women weren't drinking the veloria nectar. And guess what—they can. As you will find out firsthand very soon.”
Kaelus felt sick all over again. Sendar’s mate, Galandra had known.
She had discovered what her husband had done, perhaps intending to expose him—and Sendar had murdered her for it. Then he had stood in that ancient containment chamber and spoken of her death as though she had simply slipped beneath the water while he was absent.
“You drowned her,” he growled.
Sendar shrugged.
“I had to—she would have destroyed everything.”
“She was your wife. The woman you were meant to care for and love and protect!” Kaelus said hoarsely.
The other male frowned.
“She was an obstacle—nothing more.”
Kaelus could hardly comprehend his words. On Titus Four, where males dedicated their lives to protecting their wives, Sendar had murdered his own goddess because she had discovered the truth.
And now he intended to turn Kaelus into a weapon against Clair.
As if his thought had given the virus strength, The burning in Kaelus’s neck intensified and heat began spreading downward beneath his skin.
His pulse quickened and his already acute senses sharpened in a way he recognized immediately as abnormal.
The lights overhead suddenly seemed painfully bright, and he could hear the faint whisper of air moving through the Archive’s ventilation system.
He could smell the sterile crystal surfaces…
the ancient, preserved blood samples…Sendar’s sweat…
And beneath it all, faint but unmistakable, lingering on his own clothing from the night before he smelled Clair.
Her scent—sweet, warm, and feminine—filled his senses and his body reacted instantly.
A surge of violent desire slammed through him and his shaft was suddenly throbbing with need.
Kaelus’s stomach dropped—it was beginning. The virus was working on him—soon he would be nothing but a mindless, rutting beast!
Sendar saw his expression and smiled.
“You feel it, don’t you?” he murmured. “You feel the Savage Syndrome taking hold. You feel it changing you.”
Kaelus ignored the mocking words. Think—he had to think while he still could. How could he get out of here?
The doors were sealed and Sendar controlled them. He had a blaster that could blow a hole in the side of a building. Clair was already on her way, and unless someone warned her, she would walk directly into the building.
His com unit! Maybe he could call her—warn her before it was too late.
Kaelus grabbed for it and found it dead.
Sendar smiled again.
“Oh, didn’t you know? Communications are blocked within the Archive.”
Kaelus wanted to fucking kill him! Just rip the weapon from his hand and crush his throat.
But then he felt another pulse of lust. The virus—it was already pushing at the edges of his reason. He could not allow himself to waste time. He had to get away to where Clair couldn’t find him…to where he couldn’t hurt her.
But where could he find a place like that in the Blood Archives?
Think, he urged himself, trying to control the hunger that was taking huge, ravenous bites out of his reason. Think!
He thought again about rushing Sendar and trying to disarm him. He could probably reach him before the male fired. Probably.
But if he was wrong, if Sendar shot him badly enough to incapacitate him, then Clair would arrive and find him helpless to warn or protect her.
Worse, if Sendar merely wounded him and the virus continued spreading through his system, Kaelus might become even more dangerous.
He searched desperately for another option—there had to be one. There was always another option. A scientist didn’t stop because the first hypothesis failed.
Think, he urged himself. Fucking THINK!
Heat rolled through his body again and his heart pounded harder. The faint trace of Clair’s scent clinging to his clothing suddenly seemed unbearable.
He pictured her beneath him…soft and open and trusting. Then he imagined covering her petite, curvy body with his own huge, brutish one…he pictured slamming into her, filling her over and over as she cried out beneath him…
NO!
Kaelus snarled and slammed both fists against his own thighs as though physical pain could drive the image away.
“No,” he said aloud. “No, I won’t do it!”
Sendar laughed, his copper eyes ugly with glee.
“Oh yes,” he said. “You’re going to do it and I’m going to record it.
” He pointed with his free hand to something with a light that was hovering over their heads, buzzing softly.
“See that? It’s a recorder-bee and it’s filming right now.
Once I get the footage I want, I’ll send it to the Kindred Mother Ship and frame you for the deaths at the Glenvarren colony.
You’ll be condemned to death while I continue my research. ”
Kaelus shut out his voice with an effort.
Goddess, please, he thought, sending the prayer desperately towards the heavens. Please, I love Clair—I’d rather die than hurt her!
And then, impossibly, a voice answered—not in his ears, but in his mind.
It was warm and powerful and unmistakably feminine.
“Run warrior!” it ordered.
Kaelus sucked in a breath.
“Goddess?” he asked in a low, trembling voice.
The voice came again, filling his mind with a strength that was not his own.
“Run to the place where you can secure yourself. You must be restrained if you do not wish to hurt the woman you love!”
Suddenly, Kaelus understood—the old Containment Center…the rows of black restraint chairs with their heavy cuffs to hold down savage males.
Sendar himself had shown it to him. The bastard had led Kaelus straight to the one place in the Blood Archive where he could make himself harmless.
For the first time since the needle had entered his neck, hope broke through the terror.
Thank you, Goddess! he thought.
Then he turned and ran as though the Seven Hells were behind him.
He ran because Clair was coming. He ran because he loved her.
And if saving her meant chaining himself down like a savage beast before she arrived, then that was exactly what he would do.