IntimateEnemy (2 page)

“Just because she’s Vitca doesn’t mean she is anything like
our mother…or Father’s assassin. She is probably—”

“Damn you into a black hole, I’m not prejudiced against her.
How can I be? I’m half Vitca myself.” He clutched the cold railing, his
knuckles turning white.

“Fine, let’s go with that,” Wharm said, his voice soft and
unassuming. “Then tell me why you don’t want her.

“It’s not— I just…always imagined myself with a Nashete
female. Raising Nashete children together.”

Lone swallowed past the lump in his throat. Who was he
kidding? He was a complete hypocrite.
Faced with a Vitca intimate, I’d run
away?
He was as bad as all those bigots inside who sneered at him and his
dual blood younger brothers.

Still, he couldn’t bring himself to pursue his female. Not
with the wound of his father’s death so fresh and deep.

Using their sibling bond, Lone channeled his empathic
ability to fill Wharm and Kanaen with the scent and sense of his intimate.
“Find her,” he said, “and point me in the opposite direction.”

Wharm and Kanaen thumped him on the back with their fists
before moving off toward the nearest lifter to do what he should be
doing—pursuing his female.

Lone waited several minutes before leaving his spot on the
empty balcony to cross to a lifter and heading to one of the meeting rooms just
one floor above where a session was scheduled to begin soon. Just as the doors
began to close, he spotted Kanaen snatching an appetizer off a large, hovering
tray.

Sighing, Lone hoped Wharm was doing a better job at locating
his intimate. Even after he tried to calm himself with a deep breath and
meditative thoughts, his body stayed tightly wound. His trinity-of-being
remained needful of the completion only she could give him.

Since he was half Vitca, the necessity to come together
physically and intellectually was overwhelming. His Nashete side demanded he
romance and bond with her. He had to fight twice as hard as a male from either
race to keep himself from finding her, enticing her, claiming her.

He never regretted his dual blood more than in that moment.

He would not give in to his nature—either one—when it meant
bonding with a Vitca female. If that made him a hypocrite, he would just have
to learn to live as such a fraud.

Chapter Two

Holding her unsteady hand in front of her hotel room’s
flashing ID scan, Azure swore as the device failed to read the tiny microchip
imbedded beneath her skin. She needed to calm down. Stave off the trembling.
But after realizing the male in the lifter wasn’t Trius Daylor…or wasn’t
willing to admit his identity to her, and then sensing and seeing her intimate
on the ground floor…she could hardly take a steady breath, let alone keep a
steady hand.

I don’t want an intimate, I want to be free
, she
thought, even while feeling childish and irrational for thinking it.

Had he noticed her, the mesmerizing dual-blooded male who
was born to share her life? She hadn’t been able to ignore him. His scent alone
had captivated her, swept her up in a tide of lust and need.

Corra had been right, dual bloods smelled like lemon sugar,
and as the male belonged to Azure, the tart-sweet tang of him made her mouth
water and lips pucker for a taste, a kiss—and so much more. If he came after
her, she would never be able to resist him. It was simple biology, undeniable
instinct.

Overcome by her need to bond, she didn’t notice the tall,
dual-blooded male until he stepped up to her. With a gasp, she stumbled back
into the wall and looked up and then up again.

He didn’t belong to her, wasn’t her intimate, she thought
with a relieved sigh. But her relief was short lived when the large,
dark-haired male leaned down into her and inhaled, his sharp nose and soft lips
grazing her neck.

She jumped. Winced.

“Back off before I make you a eunuch,” she said, packing
power behind her words despite her intimidation.

He took a step back, one eyebrow arching up. “Have you
castrated many males,
kitchka
?” he asked, using the Nashete term of
endearment for sweet or loving heart. The laughter in his voice pissed her off.

“Yeah, I have. Lots and lots. And don’t call me
kitchka
.”
She lifted her chin, forced herself to meet his space-black eyes despite the
lie. Truth be told, she was always the one who ended up curled up, bleeding in
a corner. But she would never tell him about growing up with an abusive father.
This male may not be her intimate, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t attempt to
force a physical bond between them.

That’s exactly what her father had tried to force between
her and his business associate Oquin Pem, a male twice her age and half her
intelligence. And now that she had become a legal adult at twenty years old,
her father could marry her to whomever he chose. Her stomach lurched as she
thought of the handsome, shallow male whose credit was inherited rather than
earned. If not for her father’s business acumen, Oquin would have lost
everything by now. Still, he wanted more in return for the use of his credit.
He wanted Azure in his bed.

And so she had run.

“My name’s Wharm. I am here on behalf of my brother Lone,
your intimate. May I ask your name?”

She straightened her spine and said, “I don’t want him.”

His smile melted, sliding into a deeply lined frown. “You
could do worse than Lone, worse than a dual blood, believe—”

“I don’t care about that,” she said in a rush. “Look, I just
achieved adult status days ago. I want time. I need…” Her words trailed off as
her cheeks blushed hot. Why would she tell a stranger her desires, her dreams?
No way in the unseen universe would he understand.

The male scratched at his dark, closely cropped hair. “I
guess it’s true what they say about the compatibility of intimates. My
brother—let’s just say he’s not looking for a commitment either.”

“Good. I’m glad.” She wrapped her arms around herself and
rubbed her bare arms, trying to remove the chill that had seeped into her bones
when he’d implied her intimate didn’t want her. Never mind that she didn’t want
him. She’d just assumed, expected that he would desire her. Was there something
wrong with her? Something he’d seen and hadn’t liked? “So why are you here?”

“There’s a question,” Wharm said.

“Just forget it. Go. Leave me alone.” She waved at him,
trying to appear flippant. Wharm snatched her hand out of the air and brought
it to his mouth. He kissed her knuckles. The barest of touches. A gentlemanly
gesture given to draw her attention to his words.

“Lone is…misguided. He sent my brother Kanaen and me on a
mission to locate you…so he can avoid you.”

“Oh.” She stared awkwardly down the hall at a lifter as its
doors slid open and a happy Vitca couple stumbled out, kissing. “Well, good.
Tell him where I am then. Because we want the same thing.”

Wharm gave her a nod but didn’t leave. Azure refused to open
her door with the large dual-blooded male still standing there in front of her.
A thought hit her. A dual blood might know the leader of the underground union
movement. “D-do you know Trius Daylor?”

The male’s eyes widened, his dense brows rose. “Why do you
ask?”

“You do, don’t you?” Azure’s eyes suddenly stung with tears
of hope and relief.

“Yes. What do you want with him?”

She blinked fast, trying to stem the flow of tears. “I think
he might be able to help me.”

His gaze grew intense as he took a step closer. He lowered
his voice while a group of rowdy Nashete females sauntered past. “What do you
need help with,
kitchka
?”

Meeting his dark gaze, she prayed to the gods of the unseen
universe that she could trust him. “He has a reputation for helping females
disappear. My cousin is in an abusive marriage with a male who is not her
intimate.”

“And you?” he asked. “Do you wish to disappear?”

“My father wants to marry me to his friend Oquin, a male I
despise.” She pressed her hands against the lumpy, recycled plastic wall to
steady herself when her legs began to shake.

There was a long, drawn-out pause before Wharm responded.
“Not that you aren’t a visual delight, but why does this friend of your
father’s want you when you are not his intimate?”

She shuddered, remembering Corra’s bruises, the broken bones
and bloody lips. More, she remembered her father’s indifference. “My father is
my cousin’s guardian too. Oquin knows about the abuse she suffers. He knows
he’ll be able to do anything he wants to me. Use me as his sex slave. My father
will do nothing because he wants Oquin’s business.”

Wharm’s hands fisted at his sides. “What makes you think
this Oquin would use you as a sex slave?”

Azure couldn’t help dropping her gaze as she forced herself
to tell him. “He told me. Left nothing to the imagination.”

After a brief pause, Wharm asked, “How did you learn about
Trius? He’s not exactly a public figure.”

“I’ve been searching for someone who can help Corra ever
since she was married. Then I heard about Trius—he will help us. I know he
will. He’s courageous. Has a sense of justice. When I started to transition
into adulthood, I knew time was running out. I have to find him right away.”

“Hell of a risk. Running away from your father. If he
catches you, he could ask for your death as punishment.”

She shrugged. “I’d do anything for Corra. And I don’t want
to become anyone’s slave. Will you help me find Trius?”

With his thick arms crossed over his broad chest, Wharm
growled low in his throat, prompting Azure to step to the side and glance down
the hall to check for an escape route.

“Don’t be scared of me. I am…frustrated with you and with my
brother. The unseen gods have blessed you both, giving you to each other, and
you…turn away, ask for another male’s assistance.” He rubbed at the furrows in
his broad forehead. “But because of who you are to my brother, I will help you.
Even if that means bringing you Trius and not your intimate.”

Azure shook with relief, her whole body reacting to the new
hope she’d found with her intimate’s brother. “You don’t know what that would
mean to—”

“I’m not making any promises. Trius has his own agenda, and
more often than not, it doesn’t mesh with what others want.”

“I understand. You don’t know how much it means to me that
you’d even try.”

He gave her a solemn nod. “Confirmed or not, you are my
brother’s intimate. I will help you in any way I can.”

Meeting his fathomless eyes, she said, “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet.” He turned and walked away, his large,
muscular frame filling the hallway, his stride long and assured.

When he stepped onto the lifter, Azure held a much steadier
hand in front of the scanner. The door to her room slid open and she stepped
inside.

Small—no bigger than her walk-in closet at home—the room
held a bed built for two and a little cubby containing a toilet and shower.
Didn’t matter. Azure would rather live in a hole than return to her immense
home to be sold to the highest bidder.

She slumped against the wall and slid down to the cold,
metal-mesh floor, bringing her legs up to her chest so she could rest her head
on her knees. Her heart slowed and her muscles relaxed. For the first time
since she’d run, a sense of calm filled her.

An ally like Wharm didn’t come along every day, and with him
came Trius. The legend. The savior of the downtrodden, the weak and the
defenseless. She would convince him to help her and Corra. She had to.

Thoughts of her intimate invaded her mind. If he was
anything like his brother, she might marry him to foil her father’s plans—if he
would help save Corra—but her intimate didn’t want Azure so
that
wasn’t
an option. She’d caught only a glimpse of him, but he at least looked like his
brother—big and broad with dark eyes and midnight hair. He smelled even better.

What would he taste like, feel like?

Azure closed her eyes as desire licked over her and her body
grew hot with need. Her trinity-of-being demanded she leave her hiding place,
track down and initiate the physical bond with her intimate. Yet fear of
rejection held her in place as securely as any physical bindings.

* * * * *

Lone forced himself to remain still while his heart raced
and his blood seemed to burn him from the inside out. Gods unseen, he wanted to
locate his intimate and lay her down beneath his raging body until they were
both sated into oblivion.

His mind, heart and body were in agreement, meaning his
trinity-of-being would eventually wear him down. That is, if he didn’t stay
away from her, which for now meant staying on the lower floors where her scent
had all but faded.

For a distraction as much as anything, Lone wove his way
through a crowd of business males like him and approached his friend Trius. The
mountain-sized male leaned against the far wall, reading the night’s itinerary
with a relaxed slope of his shoulders—a rare sight.

“You look like you’re having…fun.” Lone tried to mimic
Trius’ comfortable pose but couldn’t pull it off. Damned if his skin didn’t
feel as though it had shrunk two sizes and was in the process of constricting
him to death like a snake suffocating his prey. He didn’t like feeling hunted.

Trius looked up and gave Lone his infamous half-smile, a
sardonic twist of lips that made his friend look more ruined than happy.

“Maybe this time talk of peace will grow into action.”

“Always the optimist.”

Trius gave him a droll stare. “You think?”

“Uh.” Lone cleared his throat uncomfortably. “Did you turn
off your comm? I tried to contact you when we arrived, but no answer.”

Trius shrugged. “I like to think of the peace talks as a
break from reality. I prefer to be out of the loop while I’m here.”

“Got it.” Lone frowned. “Just out of curiosity, who’s
covering for you in union territory?”

Trius pocketed his hands. “The members of our movement are
not children, Lone. They can look after themselves for a standard week.”

“If you say so,” Lone said, but even he could hear the doubt
in his voice.

He didn’t blame his friend for wanting a break from all the
responsibility heaped upon his head by the rapidly growing group of unionists
that included Lone and his brothers—those who refused to fight on either side
of the war. Members of the union came together at undisclosed places to work
toward ending the war. And they succeeded, doing more work than all of the
government-sanctioned peace talks combined. Yet the union movement was nothing
without its leader, Trius Daylor.

“Tell you what,” Trius said, turning to look at him. “Why
don’t you take over for, let’s say, the next few weeks and then see how you
feel about a couple days’ vacation?”

Lone held his hands up, palms out. “No offense intended. You
want some alone time? I’m heading in the opposite direction.”

Trius rolled his eyes at him. “Dramatic as always, good
blood.”

Ignoring the “good blood” compliment, Lone arched a brow.
“You’re calling me dramatic? After your little rant?”

Trius laughed, a quick, sharp bark of laughter as if his
amusement had exploded out of him without his intent or permission, a brief bit
of happiness that had snuck past all the pain packed into the male’s tall
frame.

“Point taken,” he said, straightening up off the wall.
“Looks like it’s time to take a seat. You staying?”

Lone looked around at the business people and politicians
folding their bodies into hover chairs for a discussion on the validity of
reinstating a divided-but-equal society. “I think I’ll skip it. I’m not in the
best frame of mind for irrational, unreasonable arguments.”

“I don’t blame you for passing over this one but you
shouldn’t miss the concert tonight. Musicians from both races will be
performing together for the first time in our lifetime. Should be something
that will speak to all of our trinity-of-beings.”

“I’d love to but, despite all my connections in the music
industry, I couldn’t score a ticket.” Lone and his brothers ran a very
successful musical instrument company that they marketed under their mother’s
Vitca name when in that territory and their father’s Nashete name when home.
Still, a concert that combined the two cultures was unheard of because even
artists suffered from racism.