Reeve didn’t like the dark alley one fucking bit. He wouldn’t have chosen to take it but this was the way Nallah led them. And since his host’s memory banks came up blank when he entered a query for “walking home” he felt he had no choice but to follow her.
Still, when the big bastard stepped out in front of them and said something about punishing women, it was a nasty surprise. Reeve hadn’t expected to have to fight in his host’s body—especially without any weapons. But he was prepared to do what he had to. At least Harryx was big and reasonably strong.
“Such a pretty little woman too,” the bastard at the end of the alley purred, eyeing Nallah who had shrunk back behind Reeve. “All ripe for punishment.”
“Look, asshole,” Reeve growled, taking a step forward and thrusting out his chin aggressively. “I don’t know who you are but this is my wife. So fuck off before you have the worst night of your life.”
The male drew back. In the dim glow from the end of the alley, Reeve saw surprise written on his lumpish face.
“Your wife? Of course she’s your wife. Didn’t you bring her here for a punishment?”
“I don’t know what you mean by ‘punishment,’” Reeve growled, although he was afraid he did. “But you touch one hair on her head and I swear by the Goddess I’ll end your fucking miserable existence for you right here.”
Again the male looked shocked—although why he would be surprised that a husband would protect his wife, Reeve had no idea. He dropped back in confusion, freeing the mouth of the alley.
Better get out of here while we have a chance.
Reaching behind him, Reeve grabbed Nallah’s hand and pulled her around to his side—the side away from the lumpish thug who’d threatened them.
“Come on, baby,” he muttered, keeping the other male pinned with a threatening glare. “Let’s go. Almost home.”
The man drew back in confusion and Reeve saw there were several others behind him, standing just beyond the mouth of the alley. Gods, what had they planned—a gang rape? What kind of sick place was Hascion Five anyway?
He gave the gang his best “don’t fuck with me” stare, keeping himself between them and Nallah, daring them to take him on. Seven against one—they would probably kill him if they all jumped him at once but he was damn sure going to take four or five of them with him on the way. For some reason though, they just stared at him until he and Nallah were out of sight.
“Whew.” Reeve drew a deep breath as they came out onto a well lighted sidewalk next to a busy road where hovercars and trucks were whizzing past almost soundlessly. “That was fucking interesting, huh, sweetheart?” he remarked.
Nallah didn’t answer and he realized her hand was trembling in his and she was taking deep, shaky breaths as though she was trying not to cry.
Poor little female—she was probably scared to death! Can’t say I blame her.
“Hey…hey.” Reeve stopped and turned to face her. Though she wasn’t really his female, he still felt responsible for comforting her. After all, his number one rule as a snatcher was not to fuck up anyone’s marriage, no matter what he might do to the other parts of their life. He had to care for her as her real husband would—it was only right. “You okay?” he asked her gently.
“I…you…” Nallah seemed to be having trouble getting the words out.
She was such a tiny little thing that Reeve had to crouch down to get a look at her face—or rather her veil. All he could see above it were her large golden eyes. They were shiny with unshed tears and her breath was hitching unevenly.
“Hey, sweetheart,” he said, his heart touched by her obvious anxiety. “It’s all right. It’s all over now. They won’t bother us again.”
“You…you didn’t give me to them.” Her words came out in a tight voice, as though she was still fighting not to cry. “You didn’t give me to them. I…I thought you would, my husband.”
“What?” Reeve thought he must be hearing her wrong or maybe misunderstanding the Hascion language. But that couldn’t be right—when his soul overtook a host’s body, he had immediate access to their language and speech centers. It should be physically impossible for him to misunderstand her. “What did you say?” he asked. “Why would I give you to those bastards?”
“I thought…” Her breath hitched again and she turned away so that her words were muffled. “I thought you might be…be tired of me.”
“Tired of you?” Reeve could hardly believe what he was hearing. “So you thought I’d just give you away in a dark alley to some asshole? What would make you think that?”
He couldn’t keep the incredulity out of his voice but his tone seemed to strike Nallah the wrong way. She fell to her knees in front of him.
“Forgive me, my husband.” Her voice was low and raw. “Forgive me for misunderstanding you. Thank you for choosing to keep me by you. I swear you will not regret your decision.”
“Of course I’ll keep you by me.” Reeve still felt bewildered. Was there some kind of cultural thing he wasn’t understanding here? Was it common for males to get tired of their mates on Hascion Five and leave them to be raped and killed?
Surely that couldn’t be—everything in him rebelled against the idea. He was a Kindred first and foremost and that meant respect and reverence for females. Also, once a Kindred warrior formed a bond with a female, they spent the rest of their lives together. The idea of abandoning a much beloved mate to a fate like the gang of thugs who had waited in the alley was unthinkable—unimaginable.
I must be misunderstanding, he told himself. There’s no way this can be right. He needed more time to access his host’s memory banks and try to find out the cultural norms here on Hascion Five.
“Forgive me,” Nallah whispered again and he realized she was still on her knees on the rough sidewalk.
“It’s okay, sweetheart,” he said soothingly. “Everything is going to be okay.”
Wanting to reassure her, Reeve reached out to brush a lock of hair out of her lovely eyes.
“Oh!” Nallah flinched back violently, as though she thought he meant to strike her.
Quickly, Reeve pulled back his hand and held up both palms in a non- threatening gesture. But her lovely eyes were still full of fear.
What in the Seven Hells?
He was beginning to get a bad feeling here—a very bad feeling. He’d seen this kind of reaction from females before when he jumped from body to body, culture to culture. It was the look of a female who had been hit and abused. What kind of a person was his host anyway? What kind of male was Harryx Parokk that his own wife feared him and thought he might leave her to be raped and killed in an alley?
Not a very fucking nice one, I bet, Reeve thought grimly. Which probably meant he shouldn’t be very nice either. Not abusive exactly, but he should at least be cold and distant—anything else would arouse Nallah’s suspicions.
But that frightened look in her large, golden eyes was more than he could bear. He couldn’t stand to have her fear him like this—didn’t want to treat her like dirt just because her husband apparently did.
So instead of drawing away, he knelt down beside her on the sidewalk and took her gently by the shoulders.
“Hey, it’s okay, sweetheart,” he murmured, rubbing her upper arms lightly. “Not gonna hurt you. Let’s just get home, okay?”
“O…okay,” she whispered brokenly and drew a deep breath.
Reeve wondered how she wasn’t crying right now. Not that he thought crying was a weak, female reaction but he recognized that emotions were closer to the surface for females than they were for males. And the fact that they’d nearly been attacked and she’d apparently expected to be raped and possibly killed should have elicited a stronger reaction. But though her eyes glittered with unshed tears, not a single one fell and she didn’t sob—not even once.
“Come on,” he said. “Let’s get you up.”
He got to his feet and, holding her gently under one arm, lifted her to a standing position. When she came up, he saw with a frown that she must have skinned her knees on the rough sidewalk. The thin fabric of her long white robes had two red splotches on it.
“Hey—you hurt yourself.” He looked closer at the bloodstains but Nallah drew back uneasily.
“It is nothing. I will wash my garments later,” she said quickly as though it was her robes that mattered.
“Not worried about your clothes, sweetheart—I’m worried about you,” Reeve told her. He would have to tend to her wounded knees later. In the meantime, though, he couldn’t let her walk home hurt.
Bending, he scooped her up into his arms, causing a muted gasp from Nallah.
“Oh my husband,” she exclaimed. “What…what are you doing?”
“Carrying you home,” Reeve said. “Just relax sweetheart. I’ll carry you back to the domicile…uh as soon as I figure out where it is.” He cleared his throat. “That knock I took on the head made some of my memories a little bit…fuzzy. So if you could point the way?” he asked hopefully.
Mutely, Nallah pointed a finger down the long sidewalk. She still looked uncertain about being held by him. In fact, she was nearly as stiff as a board in his arms but it couldn’t be helped. If her husband had given her reason to fear him, there wasn’t much Reeve could do about it now—all he could do was take her home and tend to her wounds.
“Okay, thanks,” he told her. “Let’s get going.”
Getting her settled more comfortably in his arms, he began the last leg of their journey, hoping they would be back at Harryx’s domicile before too long.
* * * * *
Nallah couldn’t believe what was happening. First her worst nightmare had come true when the gang arrived looking to punish her. But what had happened next left her reeling with surprise.
Not only had Harryx not left her alone for punishment and disposal at the hands of the gang, he had actually threatened the other males and declared that he would fight them if they tried to hurt her. She had never expected him to do anything like that for her—never. At most he might have growled that she was his property and he wasn’t through with her yet. But she’d never thought he would put her off limits so decisively—not as a piece of property but almost as if he…
As if he cared for me, she thought, and immediately pushed the idea away. Harryx didn’t care for her. He had no interest in her other than as a cook, cleaner, and receptacle for his seed. He’d made that clear from the moment he bought her for his wife.
So why is he acting this way? Protecting me? Being nice to me? Carrying me home because I hurt my knees?
For the second time she wondered if the blow to the head he’d taken in battle had somehow changed him. Was that possible? He had said it had made some of his memories fuzzy. Was that the reason for his strange behavior? And if so, how long would this new attitude last? How long before whatever damage he’d taken to the brain healed itself and Harryx was back to his normal self?
I can’t trust him, she thought, making certain to keep stiff and unyielding in his arms. He could change back at any moment.
Or he might still be waiting to beat her when they got home. But somehow, Nallah didn’t think so. Harryx didn’t seem angry in any way. In fact, he seemed…almost gentle in a way he never had been before. It must have been the head injury that made him act so.
Nallah just hoped this new gentleness would continue although she was dreadfully afraid it might fade away to be replaced by her husband’s usual rage at any moment.
In the meantime, she held herself silent and still, watching him from the corner of her eye as he carried her tirelessly home.