“Don’t,” she said to Harryx again. “Please, oh my husband! Don’t scare me like that! Did Chanx tell you how frightened I was of the Hallorook as a child?”
“Chanx?” For a moment he looked blank and then a look of understanding flooded his face. “Oh, your older brother.”
“He used to tease and taunt me with tales of the Hallorook,” Nallah explained with a shiver. “He used to pretend it had taken over his body and that soon it would take mine.”
“He did, did he?” Harryx sighed a frustrated sounding sigh and she heard him mutter, “Goddess damn it!” under his breath.
To Nallah these were warning signs that things were not going right and that she had only a short time to keep her husband from exploding into rage. Quickly she slid from the couch and knelt at his feet.
“Please, oh my husband, allow me to pleasure you with my mouth,” she said in her most appeasing tone.
“What?” Harryx looked at her as though she had never submitted before. “Why would you want to do that? What are you doing?”
“I…I’m submitting,” Nallah offered in a quavering voice. “I thought…you look upset. I thought you might feel better if you used me.”
But this only made Harryx look more upset. Sighing, he raked a hand through his hair again.
“Look, sweetheart, you don’t have to do that,” he said, leaning forward and looking at her intently. “Please don’t think that every time I get upset I’m going to hurt you.”
“I…I don’t think that,” Nallah whispered, although in truth, the possibility of violence was always uppermost in her mind. She couldn’t help it—despite his recent change, her husband had spent years arbitrarily punishing her for slights, real and imagined. She couldn’t lose the habit of fearing him in just a few days.
Harryx scrubbed one big hand across his face.
“Of course you think that,” he muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose as though to drive back a headache. “What else would you think considering how that bastard treated you in the past?”
Nallah felt another cold shiver run down her spine. There he went again, talking of himself as though he was a different person—he had done that several times since waking from his coma. And there was the way his eyes changed color sometimes, from blue to black. Could it be the person she was speaking to really wasn’t her husband? Could it be that the legend of the Hallorook were real?
“My husband,” she said, her voice quivering. “Of…of whom are you speaking?”
“Hmm?” He looked at her, his eyes far away—and back to their normal blue color, Nallah saw. Maybe she was imagining the whole thing—letting her imagination run away with her as she had as a child.
Maybe you’re being foolish and you’ll be punished for it if you’re not careful, whispered a warning little voice in her head.
“Nothing.” Nallah looked down at her hands. “Perhaps I should go and prepare your dinner. Are you hungry?”
“Not especially.” Harryx sighed. “Look, sweetheart, we need to talk about the Ritual tomorrow.”
“The Ritual?” Nallah’s blood was suddenly icy in her veins. All thoughts of her childhood terror of the Hallorook left her, abruptly replaced by an all too real and present fear of what she must endure at the temple tomorrow.
“Yes, the Ritual of Procreation.” Harryx looked decidedly unhappy. “I can tell you’re not looking forward to it any more than I am.”
“Why…why would I not look forward to it?” Nallah tried to paste a smile on her face but it felt wooden and forced. “It is the one day a year that we are honored to show our devotion to the God-King through the performance of…of fertility.”
“Which basically involves me putting you on some kind of altar and forcing myself inside you.” Harryx spat the words, as though he hated the very thought. “Well, I won’t do that to you, baby. I swear I won’t.”
“But…” Nallah looked up at him, confused. “But you must, my husband. Anyone who refuses to partake in the performance of fertility is declared an enemy of the State and of the God-King himself. We will both be locked away if you refuse to…” She swallowed hard and heard a dry clicking in her throat. “To take me.”
Harryx got up and began striding around the room.
“There’s no way to get out of it? I mean, I just came out of a coma. What if we just tell them I’m too sick to perform?”
“That might have worked if you had not showed yourself at the offices of the Inner Circle the other day,” Nallah said cautiously. Honestly, she couldn’t understand why Harryx was so upset. Though they had never talked about it before—then again, they never talked about much of anything—she had always had the distinct impression that her husband liked performing the Ritual at the temple.
He seemed to take a fierce joy in riding her as hard as he could and leaving blood on her thighs mixed with his seed leaking out of her. Not that the priests came close enough to see the tell-tale scarlet streaks on her pale skin but it was a point of pride to her husband to use her thoroughly and hard during the performance of fertility.
But now the very idea of going to the temple to perform with her seemed to be extremely upsetting to Harryx.
“So there’s no getting out of it?” he demanded. “No way to avoid going and performing?”
“I…I’m afraid not,” Nallah faltered. Although the God-King knew if she was allowed she would certainly avoid it. “We…we must do what we must,” she said, which was exactly what her mother had always told her about a woman’s role once she was married.
“But I don’t want to hurt you like that!” Harryx exclaimed. “Goddess damn it—you’ve had enough rough treatment, sweetheart. I never want you to have to go through anything like that again!”
“You…you do not have to be rough, then, if you don’t wish it,” Nallah whispered, barely daring to look at him. “If…if you wish to be gentle this time, my husband…”
“I was being gentle last night when I entered you with my fingers and it still made you freeze up,” he pointed out roughly.
Nallah felt a thrill of fear. Here it was—the reason he was angry with her. Could a beating be far behind?
“Please, my husband,” she said quickly. “Forgive me for the way I acted. I only—”
“No, baby—no!” He sank to the floor beside her. Kneeling across from her, he took Nallah’s face in his hands and stared at her intensely. “I’m not saying I’m mad at you—it was all my fault! I’m saying I don’t want to enter you again—to penetrate you—until you’re ready. Do you understand?”
“I do and…and I don’t,” Nallah admitted. “You have always…always liked performing the Ritual before, my husband.”
“That’s because I was…was a different person. A real bastard.” He sighed. “I guess that’s the best way I can put it. But I’m not that person anymore—not since I woke up from the coma.” He placed a soft kiss on her forehead and stroked her cheek. “I don’t want to hurt you, baby,” he said in a low voice. “I’m just trying to think of a way not to.”
Nallah looked at him, uncertain how to feel. In the past few days she’d almost felt like she was falling in love with her husband all over again—if she had ever really loved him in the first place. She rather thought she hadn’t—she’d had a girlish infatuation with the tall, strong officer of the Inner Circle and had felt incredibly lucky when he picked her, of all girls, to buy as his wife. But infatuation wasn’t love.
Then later, when he had shown her his true self—the man who desired to hit and hurt her—she had lost that infatuation and felt nothing but fear. But now…now he was so different.
Hallorook? whispered a voice in her mind but Nallah pushed it away. There was no such thing as a Hallorook—it was just an old legend. She had to attribute her husband’s change of demeanor and attitude—indeed, the change of his entire personality—to the bump he’d taken to the head and the resulting coma.
But could she ever really love and trust a man who had
done the things he had done to her? Could she feel for him the way she wanted to?
Nallah just wasn’t sure. But she did know one thing—there was no way to get out of the Ritual.
Chapter Fifteen
So the Hascions had a legend about a body-snatcher demon and Nallah’s brother had used it to terrorize her as a child—of all the rotten fucking luck!
Reeve strode back and forth, pacing the bedroom floor with his hands clenched in his hair. His attempt to tell Nallah what he really was had been a complete disaster. She’d looked at him like he was a ghost or a demon—something that meant her harm. Thank all the Gods that she hadn’t believed he really was this “Hallorook” thing!
But in the meantime, what were his options? He had no way to tell her who he really was and no idea how he would avoid hurting her at this fucking Ritual coming up tomorrow night. Also, he had no clue how he was going to get her away from this fucked-up world when she didn’t even know who he really was.
What in the Seven Hells was he going to do?
“Why don’t you fake it?” Olivia asked when he explained later that night after Nallah was fast asleep on her side of the bed and he was able to leave Harryx’s body for his nightly rendezvous with the Mother Ship.
“Fake it?” Reeve frowned at her but he was eager to hear her opinion. The Earth woman had become a valued ally in the time he had been on this mission. She didn’t seem to judge him for being a snatcher and she was easy to talk to about Nallah.
“Sure.” She shrugged. “Fake it. I mean, how closely are those judges or priests or whatever they are even watching?”
Reeve winced. “Not too closely, I don’t think. I guess I can go back and study Harryx’s memories to be for sure but I fucking hate to do that.”
“He was pretty rough with her, huh?” Olivia’s voice was low and compassionate.
“He raped her,” Reeve said shortly, running a hand through his hair. “Every fucking time he ever took her it was like that. Not an ounce of tenderness or kindness just…” He shook his head, trying not to recall the awful things he’d seen in Harryx’s memories. “Gods,” he burst out finally. “I know that’s not how her people see it—it’s probably not even how Nallah herself sees it. She just thinks she’s being a good wife and submitting. But that kind of brutality…entering her when she’s not ready, holding her down, making her cry…” He couldn’t go on.
“Seeing that must be really hard for you,” Olivia said quietly.
“That doesn’t begin to cover it.” Reeve drew a deep breath, feeling the rage build inside him. “I just wish I could kill him for her. You have no idea how hard it is to go back inside his body knowing what he’s done. I fucking hate the sadistic son-of-a-bitch!”
“He sounds like a horrible person,” Olivia agreed. “Do you think Nallah will ever be able to move past what he did to her?”
“I think maybe…in time. She’s warmed to me quite a lot even though she thinks I’m him, just because I’ve been treating her like a person instead of a sex toy. But if I have to penetrate her during that damn Ritual…” Reeve rubbed a hand over his face, hearing the scratch of whiskers against his palm. Gods, he really needed to shave. His body was getting neglected while he spent so much time out of it.
“Then don’t penetrate her,” Olivia said softly. “Just simulate it—pretend. Get close to her and, you know, grind your hips.”
Reeve frowned. “I guess that could work—as long as the priests don’t come and check to make sure I, uh…” He cleared his throat. “Came inside her.”
“Check to make sure they don’t in Harryx’s memories,” Olivia directed. “And then just pretend.”
“It might work.” He nodded slowly. “I just wonder though, how traumatic putting her in that position will be.”
“You mean going to the temple or—”
“I mean literally putting her on her hands and knees,” Reeve said dryly. “It’s the only way he ever takes her. As impersonal and as painful as possible—that seems to be his fucking motto.”
“Don’t do it like that, then,” Olivia counseled. “Pick a different position if you can. Maybe face-to-face so you can reassure her.”
“That might be the best I can do,” Reeve admitted. He nodded at Olivia. “Thanks. You’re…very understanding.”
“Something bad happened to my sister, Sophia back when we were in high school,” she said in a low voice. “So I know a little about it. When Sylvan found out…” She shook her head.
“What did he do? Did he kill the bastard who hurt your sister?” Reeve felt the blood-lust rising in him. He wanted nothing more than to murder Harryx for hurting Nallah.
Olivia shook her head. “No, but he took a gelding machine and went down to Earth and made sure he could never hurt any other woman again.” She grinned a little. “It was extremely effective as I’m sure you can imagine.”
“I want to do more than castrate fucking Harryx Parokk,” Reeve growled. “He’s been hurting Nallah for years now. I wish I could double the pain he’s given her and feed it back to him—preferably with my fists.”
“I guess you’ll have to put that on hold until you finish your mission,” Olivia said.
“Oh, I’m going to finish it, all right,” Reeve assured her grimly. “Commander Sylvan is right—there’s no fucking way the Hascions ought to be allowed to spread their brand of sadistic sexism throughout the universe.” He sighed. “But I want to do more than stop them from spreading—I want to get Nallah out of there.”
“Would she come?” Olivia asked. “If you told her? If you explained what you are and how you’ve been using your talents to, uh, control her husband?”
“I don’t know. I just don’t know.” Reeve shook his head tiredly. This extended snatching was wearing him out and he’d had a hard time getting into his body again. It was worrisome. “I tried telling her something about it,” he admitted to Olivia. “But apparently her people have some kind of legend about a body-snatching demon who takes over people and makes them into monsters or something.” He sighed. “I don’t know if Nallah would be up for coming home with a confirmed Hallorook, even if the alternative was staying on Hascion Five.”
Olivia frowned. “A what-a-rook?”
“A Hallorook. It’s what they call the body-snatching demon,” Reeve explained. He sighed again. “Besides, wouldn’t swooping down through their protected airspace so I could kidnap one of their citizens cause some kind of war between their people and ours? I thought Commander Sylvan wanted to keep things subtle.”
“Just leave that to me,” Olivia said mysteriously. “My husband, Baird, is the head of the Kindred Fleet and he tells me they have some excellent new stealth tech. After all, the Hascions can’t call kidnapping if they have no evidence that anyone was ever there to take Nallah in the first place.”
“You’d help me like that? Even though I’m a snatcher?” Reeve couldn’t hide his surprise.
“You have a good heart,” Olivia said firmly. “I can see how deeply you feel for this girl, Nallah. And it sounds to me like the Goddess put you in the right place at the right time to help her.”
“I just don’t want her to be hurt anymore, especially if I wake up her bastard of a husband getting in to trash their wormhole research,” Reeve growled. “It’s not like I have any, uh…” He cleared his throat. “Any romantic designs on her.”
“Oh no, of course not.” But there was a little smile on Olivia’s lips. “Speaking of Nallah, shouldn’t you be getting back to her?”
“I probably should—I’ve been here an hour already.” Reeve sighed. “Not long now. Tomorrow is the Ritual day but the day after that I’m back at Harryx’s work and hopefully into the lab.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow night, then. Or Sylvan will,” Olivia said as he laid back down on the sensu-bed which automatically began to massage his arms and legs.
“See you then.” Reeve smiled at her. “Thanks for being easy to talk to.”
“I’
m a nurse.” Olivia smiled at him. “It goes with the territory. Now go spend some more time with Nallah. I’m sure she’s missing you.”
“As much as she can when she still thinks I’m her abusive asshole of a husband,” Reeve said darkly.
Then he closed his eyes and sent his spirit flying outwards into the blackness of space, speeding towards his host’s body and the woman he had to admit he had fallen in love with.
Chapter Sixteen
The Temple of the God-King was resplendent, with gold and scarlet banners hanging everywhere and black marble hallways burnished to a high shine. Nallah felt her stomach turn over as she and Harryx walked through the crowded outer area, filled with common folk already performing the Ritual and giving their offerings of sex before the large, golden alter of the God-King which filled the entire left wall of the temple.
Everywhere there were women on all fours, their husbands plowing into them from behind, demonstrating their dominance and giving a performance of fertility. Some men were concentrating on thrusting as deeply as possible while others were pulling on leashes attached to choke-collars their wives wore. Both actions showed intensity and reverence for the God-King, who was at the same time, ruler and deity of Hascion Five.
Nallah watched with sympathy as one of the women wearing a collar put a hand to her throat—her lips were blue. Every year there were always some wives who didn’t survive the Ritual simply because their husbands were careless and pulled too hard, cutting off their air or crushing their throats.
At least Harryx has never used a choke collar on me, Nallah thought, looking away from the awful sight. Of course, he wasn’t above using his hands sometimes—she had often worn a necklace of purple bruises after he had taken her. But since he preferred to take her from behind, the angle for choking wasn’t as good, so she had never actually feared for her life, thank goodness.
Nallah thought that none of the women she saw on their hands and knees looked happy to be there—even the ones without collars—but what could any of them do? To refuse to participate in the Ritual of Procreation was an insult to the God-King which would result in death. Everyone from the poorest of the poor to the rich and elite had to give an offering of sex and prove that they were trying to procreate.