The Warlord and the Fem Read online

  His dark eyes sharped on mine, and I saw calculation flicker in their depths. Then, reluctantly, he said, “One coupling would not be enough for me, Kyna.”

  I lifted a brow at his honesty. “Another man might have taken me to bed, thinking to seduce me into yielding.”

  “Aye,” he said steadily, and reached out a big hand to touch my cheek, his fingers leaving a wake of heat. “But another man would not be me.”

  And another man would be harder to resist, I thought. But I could not yield to him. I knew what it meant to be bonded to a warlord, and I did not think I submit so utterly.

  “But perhaps,” he said softly, “you’ll allow me to court you as a civ male would. Give me a chance, Kyna.”

  I looked at him, at the warm, heated chocolate of his eyes. “Very well,” I said, before I knew what I was about.

  Then, silently, I cursed myself.

  ***

  I watched Baird’s long fingers close gently over the black queen and move her into position to threaten my king. “Check,” he said, his deep voice amused.

  Damn it. I scanned the board, realizing he’d beaten me yet again. He’d ruthlessly, systematically stripped me of my pieces, and I had nowhere left to go. True, I’d made inroads of my own; all he had left were his king, a knight and the queen, but even so, he’d managed to trap me. With a groan, I tipped over my own king in a gesture of defeat. “Damn, Baird, you got me again.” Laughing, I looked up into his eyes – and froze.

  His dark gaze was hungry and fixed on my mouth. “Ah, if only you meant that.”

  I felt heat roll from my belly all the way into my face. Disgruntled, I knew I was blushing. I never blushed. I looked away from his face and began putting captured pieces back on the board, concentrating hard on what I was doing. “Another game? You’ve won ten games to my eight, and I want revenge.”

  “I think not. I find I am too ... restless.” He stood. I didn’t look at him, knowing the sight of that big, hard body clad in snug black unisuit would do serious damage to my eroding self-control. But as he strode away, I couldn’t help stealing a look at his muscular butt. Oh, Lady.

  Lyonet blocked my view of it as she stepped up to the table we’d occupied in the rec hall. “On behalf of woman everywhere,” she said, and swatted me across the side of the head. I yelped in shock. “Hey, what was that for?”

  She leaned across the table and glared into my eyes. “Every woman on this ship would give her left nipple to sleep with that man, but the only one he looks at is you. And all you do with him is play chess. He gets up from this table with a hard-on that I, personally, will dream about for weeks, and you just sit there playing with your pieces. Are you flatline?”

  My fingers tightened around Baird’s knight. “It’s more complicated than you think.”

  “It must be complicated as all hell if you’re playing board games when you could have both legs wrapped around that incredible ass. And don’t tell me you’re not tempted, because I saw you leering at it as he left.”

  “Yeah, I’m tempted, but he wants a lot more than one night of hot sex.”

  “Good. Give it to him.” Lyonet dropped into his abandoned chair.

  “You don’t know what he wants.” To give my hands something to do, I started gathering up pieces and putting them briskly on the board.

  Lyonet leaned forward and looked hard into my face. Her jaw dropped. “You’re scared of him. I didn’t think you were scared of anything. What’s going on?”

  I didn’t answer as I carefully lined up the pieces, concentrating on getting them in mathematically straight rows.

  “Talk to me, Kyna,” Lyonet said, one of her hands wrapping around one of mine. “I’ve seen you charge mercs twice your size with a grin on your face and mayhem in your heart. Why on earth would you be afraid of sleeping with the hottest thing either of us have seen in years?” “He’s a warlord, Lyonet. Genetically engineered.”

  “Yeah, I figured that out when he kicked Jogox’s ass. So? And what the hell’s a warlord?” “It’s a long story.”

  “I’m not going anywhere.”

  I sighed and picked up Baird’s black knight again. Nervously, I began to turn it over and over in my hands, concentrating on its smooth contours. “About three hundred years ago, a group of colonists settled this planet called Vardon. It was back when all those weird little colonies sprang up, all those religious sects and lunatic groups. This one wanted to form a matriarchy – women running the show. They thought they could create a perfect world if they eliminated male aggression through genetic engineering, making their male citizens more like women.”

  “Sounds like a real good way to get a lot of lousy lovers.” Lyonet said, rolling her eyes.

  “Exactly. Anyway, it wasn’t long before they started having trouble with a neighboring planet. Colonists there wanted Vardon’s mineral reserves. The Vardoneese fought them off, but just barely. After it was over, they decided then needed a race of warriors to fall back on if they ever had a similar problem, so they created the Warlords. Stronger, faster, nastier than damn near anything human, and a lot of things that aren’t.”

  She nodded. “Sounds like Baird, all right.”

  “Uh huh. Thing is, turns out their perfect soldier came with a sex drive that was that much more powerful than an ordinary human’s.”

  Lyonet’s eyes lit wickedly. “This is sounding better and better all the time.”

  “Not to the Vardoneese. They’d been systematically eliminating their own sex drives, so the sudden presence of all these amorous males disconcerted them, to say the least. Plus, the men were so damn strong, sleeping with one could be hazardous to your health. They tried eliminating the sex drive, but what they got was even nastier – a warrior that was cold and vicious and basically uncontrollable. So they decided to go with the oversexed version, while adding loyalty and a highly affectionate nature. Then, to give their supersoldier something to sleep with, they created the Fem – female versions of the warlords.”

  I saw her jaw drop. “That tattoo on your face – you’re one of them. Why the hell didn’t you tell me you were genegineered?”

  “Because I’m not, technically. My parents were. Dad was a warlord, Mother was a fem. I just inherited their genetic characteristics.

  “The strength and speed.”

  “Right. Anyway, about thirty years ago, the Vardoneese went through one of their periodic political convulsions. They decided the Blood People – that’s us – were responsible for the wars they kept getting themselves in. If we didn’t exist, they wouldn’t be so quick to rely on violent solutions.” “Oh, bullshit,” said Lyonet. “They’d just end up hiring merc units like everybody else.” “Probably, but they didn’t see it that way. They deported the lot of us. Every last warlord and fem, to the far corners of the galaxy. They were afraid if they put us in one place, we’d come back and conquer them.”

  “Paranoid bunch of bitches.”

  “Got it in one. So anyway, Baird was raised on one of those colonies. But everybody in the colony had come from the same basic genetic root stock. They didn’t have enough genetic variation to sustain the population. The colonists decided to send their unbonded warlords and fems out to look for Blood People they could bring home as mates.”

  “And Baird found you.”

  “Looks that way.”

  “And he wants to make it permanent.”

  “Yep.”

  She learned forward and glared into my eyes. “So what the hell’s the problem?”

  I clenched my fingers hard around the knight. “I don’t want to become his slave.” Lyonet blinked, startled. “Come again?”

  “The warlords are very ... dominant in bed. And fems ... we’re designed to give them what they want. To submit.”

  She leaned back in her chair and lifted an eyebrow. “I have trouble imagining you as submissive.” “We’re not. Ordinarily. In combat, we’re designed to function as backup. Not as strong, but better at some things warlords ca
n’t do because of their sheer size. Agility, speed, getting into tight places. We’re cool and controlled when they’re in riatt – the berserker frenzy Baird used to beat Jogox. We keep them from getting carried away and making mistakes.”

  “Sounds like equals more than master and slave.”

  “And equals are exactly what we are -- outside the bedroom. Inside...”

  “... He wants to tie you up and screw your brains out. So? I don’t see why you’d find a few sex games intimidating.”

  I shook my head. “What if it’s more than games, Lyonet? I’ve never actually known any warlords other than Baird, and I’m not sure what I’d be getting into. My father died when I was young, so I never really knew him.” I swallowed and looked down at the knight, finding I could not quite meet

  Lyonet’s perceptive green gaze. “My did sister bond with a warlord she met off-planet when I was fifteen or so. She brought him to our home on Fairworld, but they stayed only a short time before they left for his colony.”

  Her eyes sharpened, and I knew she’d read the discomfort on my face. “Something happened during that visit, didn’t it?”

  I glanced up, then away. “I saw them together. One night. I heard her cry out in pain, and I went to help. They were out in the garden. She was tied, and he was ....” I stopped and swallowed. “God, he was beautiful, but the look on his face was so feral. And my sister – she was in pain, and yet she loved it. I didn’t interfere, but I didn’t leave either. I just stood there in the shadows, frozen. Watching.”

  “Yeah, I can see how something like that would spin out a fifteen-year-old virgin.” Lyonet’s expression was compassionate. “But just because your brother-in-law played rough, that doesn’t mean Baird would.”

  “But that’s how warlords are, Lyonet. Erotic dominance is part of their nature. I researched it on our house comp, and I talked to my mother about it. She said I would understand once I was bonded.”

  Lyonet’s eyes widened. “And that’s what you’re afraid of.”

  I nodded. “What I saw in that garden scared the hell out of me. But part of me was ... excited. I don’t want to lose myself that way, Lyonet. I’m a soldier. I don’t want to be mastered by some genetic imperative a bunch of techies programmed into my ancestors.”

  She shook her head. “Damn, girl. I see your point. But here’s another thing you need to keep in mind.” Leaning forward, she met my eyes. “Baby, you’re not fifteen any more. And I think it’s time you find out just what your nature is. Because it sure as shit isn’t going away.”

  I knew Lyonet was right, of course. I just wasn’t sure I had the guts to explore that particular dark corner of my psyche.

  For one thing, I’d have to go to Baird to do it, and I wasn’t sure he’d let me go.

  ***

  A month went by as Baird courted me – with more restraint than a civ male would have shown, to tell the truth. We played chess and talked, me of my life as a mercenary, him of his as a warlord. But no matter how carefully he hid it, I could sense his hunger, humming just under the surface like thousands of volts of electricity flowing through a power cable. When he’d touch me, I could almost feel the snap of it.

  At such times, the part of me that feared him would babble a warning. I was testing his control to the breaking point, and knew it. Yet I found I didn’t want to back off. He was so damn charming, so intelligent, so rock-bottom decent that I couldn’t bear to walk away.

  And he wasn’t the only one who hungered.

  So often, some casual movement of that big body would send my desire leaping – the flex of a muscle, the curve of his chest, the hot, dark glitter of gold striations in his eyes.

  What I didn’t realize was that Baird knew it. And like the skilled warrior he was, one day he took advantage of my weakness.

  He asked me to fight.

  “It’s been a long time since I’ve practiced with one of the people,” he told me over lunch one day. “I’m afraid my dueling skills are getting rusty. The first time somebody challenges me to a formal duel, I’m going to get minced.”

  “I don’t know how much competition I’d be,” I told him, ignoring the flare of heat that rose low in my belly. “I haven’t practiced with a sword and dagger since I left home. Mercs don’t duel – it’s either fists or straight to homicide.”

  As I watched, the gold striations in his eyes brightened. “Oh, I’m sure any contest with you would be well worth my time.”

  I knew what he was up to, of course. I suppose that’s why I agreed. The part of me that hungered for him wanted to overcome the part of me that feared him. He wasn’t the only one who wanted an excuse to lose control.

  We reserved one of the small practice courts during the late watch. When I arrived, he was positioning a padded exercise mat on the floor for us to fight on. I didn’t comment, though the people have never been concerned with falls during practice. If you’re so clumsy as to get hurt hitting the ground, you probably deserve it.

  I knew Baird wasn’t concerned about falls.

  He rose from his task as I sauntered in. As he turned to look at me, his eyes widened. So did mine. I wore a tight black breastband that left my arms and belly bare and revealed a great deal of cleavage. A pair of skin tight black huggers cupped my ass and hips, ending at mid thigh.

  He’d also dressed to tempt in the male equivalent – his own pair of huggers and nothing else, so that his beautiful chest was bare. His eyes were shot with gold striations of hunger like a night sky cut with lightning bolts. He’d left that long, silken hair loose to tumble around his broad shoulders. Baird, no fool, knew what my weakness was

  But neither of us commented on the other’s dress -- that would have been an admission that we knew what we were really there for. Instead his eyes flicked to the blunted practice sword and dagger I held in either hand as he gathered up his own from a case on the floor. “Nice weapons.” “Not as nice as yours. May I see?”

  He moved over beside me. I was instantly aware of the heat of his body as he handed me his sword and took my own. I made a quick pass through the air with the blade, feeling the precise balance that made it seem almost weightless. “Beautiful.” I held it at full extension. “It’s a little long for me, though.”

  I looked up to see him staring hungrily at my cleavage. “I think you can manage,” he murmured. “I’ll stick with my own for now.” I hid a smile, feeling my excitement leap as I returned the sword. “Shall we begin?”

  Baird smiled slowly. “Oh, yeah. I’m more than ready.”

  My heart pounding hard, I turned and moved to the other side of the mat as he fell into guard on his side. Lifting my weapons, I stared into his gold-shot eyes and waited for the signal to begin. “Begin,” he murmured, and we did, staking each other slowly, watching eyes and hands. Baird wore a hot and wicked smile, but his eyes glittered with fierce determination. A month before, I would have viewed his intentions with misgivings, but now my nipples peaked at the thought of what he wanted to do to me. I realized at some point I had begun to trust him. Anything he did when we made love would be something we both enjoyed.

  He tested me with a flick of his blade. I parried neatly and reposted, driving in my own attack, which he scooped aside with his dagger. At the same time, his blunted rapier tested my defenses again, and again I parried it with my own dagger. We disengaged and danced apart again.

  And so we toyed with each other. With his greater strength, he could have pounded my weapons aside and scored off me easily, but he fenced on my terms – his speed, agility and skill against mine in a lovely dance of steel.

  I found myself half hypnotized by him, by the grace and quickness of his big body, by the flex and play of muscle as he moved. And I could feel his eyes on me, on my breasts and legs, lingering between my thighs as I lunged or retreated. The mood of sensuality growing between us intensified until I felt my breath come shorter, not with exertion, but with desire.

  Suddenly the blunted tip of his blade flicke
d out and raked gently across one of my pointed rock-hard nipples. I gasped at the wave of heat that zinged through me at the contact.

  Baird’s gold-striated gaze met mine. “A touch,” he purred.

  I nodded, acknowledging the point as a hot blush of raw lust rolled up my face.

  I attacked in a long, hard lunge that shot my body forward. Baird knocked my sword aside with his rapier, but at the same time his dagger dipped. The rounded blade stroked right between the lips of my sex in a bold, erotic caress I could feel even through the tight fabric of my huggers. Stunned, I let my body collide with his. For a moment we were chest to chest, his hot, damp skin pressing against my breasts. Eyes widening, I starred incredulously at his face. He gave me a taunting grin.

  “Point to me,” he said, his breath puffing gently against my face, smelling ever so slightly of brandy and mint.

  I leaped back. He laughed softly.

  Lazily, he began to circle me, standing not in a swordsman’s crouch now, but with shoulders back, his magnificent chest on display in all its heaving, sweat-streaked glory. Letting my gaze dip, I saw he had a massive erection.

  “You may not know this,” Baird said, his voice a dark rumble, “but back on Vardon these were called mating duels. Fems and warlords would meet to test each other. If the fem won, she’d usually seek another opponent. But if the warlord won...” He grinned. “...he didn’t let her go for a very long time. Often she’d end up with her circle filled.”

  I remembered the touch of his fingertip on my tattoo a month before, filling the half circle with his blood.

  “Sounds like a plan to me,” he said softly.

  My mouth went dry, but I made myself give him a taunting smile. “Only if you win.” “Oh,” he drawled, his eyes darkening, “I will.”