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chilled body into the fierce heat of his, accustomed now to the rank smell. "There is an old Scottish blood vow," she said, wincing as he became a bit overzealous in feeding. She eased his head back a little to let him know he was hurting her and saw him look up

through his bushy brow. She smiled for his eyes were once more brown, not glowing red,

and his ears were back to normal.

"It says: `Ye are Blood of my Blood, and Bone of my Bone. I give ye my Body, that we

Two might be One. I give ye my Spirit, til our Life shall be done.'"

She heard him growl his agreement to the words and ran her hands through the dark

wet curls that were once more sleek and human.

"You are heart of my heart, Kamerone Cree," she whispered. "There is nothing I have that I will not share with you."

As he drank, she became lightheaded and when he sensed it, he withdrew his teeth. He

put his thumb over the puncture wounds and pressed firmly to stanch the flow of blood.

Before she could say anything to him, he was lithely on his feet, lifting her high against

his warm chest and carrying her back to the cave.

"I am sleepy."

"Aye," he answered. "You must rest now."

The last thing she saw before she drifted into a deep, healing sleep, was his worried

face—so handsome yet so infinitely sad—peering down at her as he lowered her to the

cave floor.

"I love you," she whispered.

Cree lay down beside her, gathered her to him, and drew her head to his shoulder.

"I love you, too, Bridget," she could have sworn she heard him say.

CREE STOOD rigidly at attention as Admiral Tylan Kahn reviewed the papers that

had been sent to him from the desk of the OIC of the Reaper Unit that morning. There

was a deep frown on Kahn's face and that usually boded ill for whoever had caused it. He

grunted once, snorted twice, and then let out a long exhalation of breath to indicate his

irritation. Looking up with his infamous scowl in place, the Admiral tossed the papers

aside then sat back into the comfort of his thickly padded chair to glare at the Reaper.

"I am not pleased with you, Commander," the Admiral said. "Not pleased at all. At ease!"

Cree shifted to parade rest, his attention locked just over the Admiral's head. His jaw

worked.

"You have something to say, Commander?" Kahn snapped.

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"I beg the Admiral's pardon, but I am a Captain."

"Not anymore you aren't," Kahn grated, daring the Reaper to contradict him. He

watched a momentarily spark of fury shoot through Cree's dark orbs as they lowered to

his. He held that murderous stare for a moment before Cree snapped his attention back to

the wall. "Aye, Sir!" Admiral Kahn drew in a long, cleansing breath then reached out to tap the papers he had been sent. "And I am not the only one experiencing displeasure at

your recent conduct," he stated. "Captain Kullen has signed a formal complaint against you concerning the reprimand you gave his Keeper. The Captain, who, by the way

outranks you as of this morning, is understandably upset that you did not come to
him
with the matter since it is
his
responsibility, not yours, to punish his crew."

Cree blinked, his rage barely held in check. It was bad enough to be reduced in rank,

but something else entirely to have an imbecile like Symthian Kullen outrank him. He did

not dare look at the Admiral for fear the man would see the murderous intent forming.

"I want an explanation from you, Mister!" Kahn hissed. "Why the hell did you not go to Kullen with this matter concerning Konnor Rhye?"

At the mention of Konnor Rhye's hated name, Cree's jaw tightened and a muscle

jumped in his lean cheek. "Sir, I could not find Captain Kullen when I was forced to

reprimand Commander..." He nearly choked on the name. "Rhye."

The Admiral's left brow cocked upward. "Really? And just where exactly did you try

looking for him, Cree?"

Cree's forehead creased. "I didn't exactly go looking for him since there wasn't time—"

"And then there is the other reason for Kullen's displeasure," the Admiral informed him The Reaper lowered his attention from the wall. "I do not follow, sir."

"The female," the Admiral snorted with disgust. "If what Kullen tells me is true—and I have no reason to doubt his word since
he
has never lied to me—both you and Rhye are

after the same woman."

"She is mine," Cree ground out. He raised his chin. "I purchased her legally."

The Admiral smiled nastily. "Aye, right out from under Rhye's nose, too, didn't you,

Cree?" When the Reaper did not respond, the Admiral shot up from his chair, his eyes

furious. "Didn't you, Cree?"

"Aye, Sir!" the Reaper shouted back.

Kahn said nothing for a long time, then he put his hands on his desk and leaned

forward. "To knowingly commandeer another warrior's intended simply because you

outrank him is a serious breach of military ethics. I am appalled that you were allowed to

do it."

For the first time, Cree felt a shaft of wariness lodge against his spine. Kahn was

known for his strict adherence to military protocol and any warrior who did not abide by

those strict regulations and mandates, often found himself billeted aboard a mining

station in the middle of hell.

"Despite the fact that he is your biological father, I can not understand why Drae Cree

saw fit to allow you to take another man's bride-to-be away from him." A hateful look

settled on Kahn's face. "At least, Konnor Rhye had honorable intentions in regard to the Terran female. What were your intentions, Commander?"

Once more Cree's eyes met the Admiral. "I purchased her as a domestic. To see to—"

"You had sexual relations with her," the Admiral cut in.

Cree's chin came up. "It was not my intention to take her as a concubine when I

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purchased her. It was only later that—"

"If I had been on duty that day, I can assure you, I would have denied your request and

censured you for making it!" It was on the tip of Cree's unruly tongue to say it was a

gods-be-damned good thing Kahn had not been OIC that day for there would have been

serious trouble had the request been turned down. Serious trouble and one dead Keeper!

The Admiral straightened, reading Cree's mind easily. "And you would have hanged

for it, Mister."

Cautioning himself to control his wayward thoughts around this psychic warrior, Cree

resumed his scrutiny of the wall above the Admiral's head.

Kahn folded his arms over his chest. "You not only had sexual relations with this

female without obtaining permission from my office, you did so without authorization

from the Ministry of Public Health." He grunted irritably. "Is there no end to your insubordination, Cree?"

The Reaper knew better than to attempt to answer that charge unless he wanted to end

up flat on his back on Dr. Dean's torture table again. He clenched his jaw and strove hard

to think about anything other than his dislike of Kahn and the very real possibly that if

the Admiral attempted to return Bridget to Konnor Rhye, there was going to be a murder.

"Oh, I think not," Kahn grated, watching Cree flinch. "Computer!"

"Yes, Admiral Kahn?"

"Send my orderly to bring Commander Cree's concubine to my office."

Cree's gaze flew to the Admiral. "Why?" he asked and could have bitten off his tongue when he saw the glitter of satisfaction flit through Kahn's frigid brown glower.

"Do you dare to question me, Lieutenant?"

Shock puckered Cree's face. He squeezed his eyes shut with helplessness, wincing at

the further reduction in rank. If he didn't mind his tongue and his wayward thoughts, he

was going to wind up—

"On a garbage scowl in the Epsilon Quadrant," Kahn finished the thought for him.

Cree opened his eyes, letting out a sigh of defeat. "Why are you doing this to me?"

Kahn smiled brutally, and then sat down at his desk. "You have brought all of this upon

yourself, Cree," he stated. He leaned back, threaded his fingers together and put them

behind his head to brace his neck. Stretching out in his chair, he observed the unease and

the hopelessness settling in on Kamerone Cree. "You have no one to blame for your

predicament, but you. I find it interesting that you do not realize that, Kamerone."

Once more the muscle bunched in Cree's cheek. Khan was six years Cree's senior and

had risen quickly through the ranks with a brutal agenda of his own. Those who had

dared to oppose Tylan Kahn, did so either from a lack of understanding of the man's

lethal nature, or else they had nothing to lose by pitting themselves against him. It was

said that when Tylan Kahn found something ìnteresting' while disciplining one of his

men, that man suffered the ignominy of a crushing defeat.

So what was there to lose?

"Dr. Dunne and I have formed a relationship, Admiral," Cree heard himself explain. He stared right into the other man's face. "One such as I have heard you enjoy with a certain Chrystallusian noblewoman."

The Admiral's smile faded. "Do you dare compare your situation with mine, Cree?"

Cree shook his head. "Not at all, Sir. I am merely making an observation."

Before the Admiral could reprimand Cree for his blatant lack of respect, the Vid-Com

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interrupted, announcing Bridget's arrival.

"Send her in!"

Cree heard the door shush open behind him and the soft swish of footsteps on the

Admiral's thick carpeting. He did not dare look at Bridget as she came to stand beside

him although he was more than aware of her body heat and the pleasant scent of her

perfume. The hands clasped behind his back tensed, wanting to grab her and run before

their lives could be torn apart by Tylan Kahn.

"Dr. Dunne," Kahn said, rising. He extended his hand to her in the time-honored Terran fashion. "Please, sit." He indicated a chair to the right of his desk.

Bridget glanced at Cree before graciously declining the offer. "Have I caused a

problem for Captain Cree, Sir?" she asked and wondered why Cree flinched at her

question.

"Let me assure you, dear lady," the Admiral smiled. "Any problems he has, Cree has created all on his own." He came around the desk and held the chair. "Now, please. I insist you sit."

Bridget knew she had no choice and took a seat. She cast another concerned look to

Cree, but he was staring at the wall, his body as rigid as stone. There was a white line

along his jaw and she knew he was grinding his teeth. Something had happened and she

heard alarm bells going off in her head. Be careful of this man, she reminded herself;

Kahn is dangerous.

"There is no reason to be afraid of me, Bridie," the Admiral said gently, drawing both Bridget's and Cree's attentions immediately to him. "I am told you are from the Midwest.

Iowa, is it?"

Bridget nodded slowly, hesitantly. "Yes, Sir."

"Ah, the Heartland," he sighed. "Isn't that what they call it on Terra?"

"Ah, yes. Yes, it is," she replied, glancing up at Cree, but he had yet to look at her.

"I would like to visit your world one day." He spread his hands. "Unfortunately, I have to leave such conquests of space to my men for the time being. Perhaps when I retire?"

He walked behind his desk and sat, leaning back comfortably in his chair. "I am told you are a biochemist."

"Yes, Sir."

"Fascinating work," Kahn remarked. "Had I not been destined for the military, I would have liked to have worked in that field, but, it was not to be since males are not allowed

in the scientific fields now."

"I wonder why?" Cree mumbled, causing Bridget to glance warily at his tone.

"You may go, Lieutenant."

Bridget looked around, but there was no one else in the room except for the three of

them. She frowned, then when the significance of what she'd heard registered, she

gasped, her head snapping toward Cree, her lips parting in shock.

"Aye," Kahn sighed. "I am afraid his little outing yesterday has caused Cree a bit of a problem."

"Sir," Bridget said, standing. "We were caught in the storm without means of

communications. Captain Cree tried to raise engineering, but—"

"Did I not tell you that you were dismissed, Lieutenant?" Kahn interrupted, swinging a brittle look at Cree.

Sensing more than just Cree's fury building in the room, Bridget put a calming hand on

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her lover's arm. "It's all right. I'll explain everything to him."

For the first time, he looked at her. "You cannot." He searched her face.

"Get the hell out of here, Cree!" the Admiral bellowed. When the Reaper looked at

him, and the Admiral saw sheer malice staring at him from murderous brown orbs, he

stood up slowly, his voice as soft as down. "Or do you want to spend another two weeks

on Dr. Dean's torture table?"

"Go!" Bridget was quick to say, pushing Cree. "Now, Kam. Go!"

Cree swallowed the bitter retort he had been about to make, snapped off a crisp salute,