THIRTY - FIVE

By the time Payne got herself dressed and went out into the hall, her twin was gone.

The blood on the floor told her in which direction he had headed, however, and she followed the trail down the corridor and into the glass-enclosed space marked Office. Inside, the little specks of red cut a path around the desk and disappeared through a door, so she went over and opened up -

Just a closet. Nothing but supplies of papers and writing instruments.

There was more to it, however. There had to be. The track of droplets terminated at a wall of shelving.

Patting around, she searched for a lever or release to shift the casing over, all the while replaying the scene of the mirror smashing.

She had such fear, not for herself, but for Vishous - and what she had driven him to. Again. She had wanted a relationship with her brother. Not like this, though.

Never this toxic interplay.

"You getting anywhere?"

She looked over her shoulder at her healer. Standing in the doorway to the office, he was still wet, but no longer dripping, and had a white towel wrapped around his neck. His short, dark hair was askew, as if he had rubbed it dry and left it as it stood.

"I cannot find the way through." And wasn't that apt on so many levels.

Payne wasted some time just staring at the neatly lined-up stacks of yellow pads and boxes of pens and orderly rows of things the purposes of which she could only guess at. When she finally gave up and stepped out, her healer was still in the doorway to the office, still staring at her. His eyes were black with emotion, his lips thin ... and for some reason, his expression made her realize how fully clothed he was.

How fully clothed he had always been whenever he had lain with her.

He hadn't let her touch him, had he.

"You agree with my brother," she said darkly. "Do you not."

It was not a question. And she was not surprised when he nodded. "This isn't a long-term thing," he said with horrible gentleness. "Not for you."

"So that is why I have not had the pleasure of your sex."

His brows flared briefly, as if her candor discomforted him. "Payne ... this can't work between us."

"Says who. It is our choice whom we - "

"I've got a life to go back to."

As her breath grew tight, she thought ... how incredibly arrogant of her. It had never occurred to her that he had somewhere else to go. Then again, just as her brother had pointed out, how much did she know of him?

"I've got family," he continued. "A job. A horse I have to go see."

Payne walked over to him, approaching him with her head high. "Why do you assume it is an either/or? And before you try, do not waste words telling me you do not want me. I know it is true - your scent does not lie."

He cleared his throat. "Sex isn't everything, Payne. And when it comes to you and me, even that's just about getting you to where you are now."

At that, another chill ran through her, sure as if there were a draft in the room. But then she shook her head. "You wanted me, healer. When you came back here and saw me in that bed - your scent was nothing about the condition I was in, and you are a coward if you pretend otherwise. Hide if you will, healer - "

"My name is Manny," he snapped. "Manuel Manello. I was brought here to help you - and in case you haven't noticed, you're on your feet. So I have. Right now? I'm just waiting until you people rip into my brain again and leave me strapped to separate night from day and dreams from reality. This is your world, not mine, and there is only either/or."

Their eyes locked together, and in that moment, if the facility had been on fire, she would not have been able to look away ... and neither, she realized, would he.

"If it could work," she said roughly, "if you were allowed to come and go as you pleased, would you stay with me."

"Payne - "

"My question is clear. Answer it. Now." As his brows rose, she could not tell whether he was excited or repulsed by her brashness, and she did not care in that moment. "The truth is what it is, spoken or not. So we might as well have it all out."

He slowly shook his head. "Your brother doesn't think - "

"Fuck my brother," she countered. "Tell me what you think."

In the strained silence that followed, she realized what she had just said, and wanted to curse anew. Dropping her head, she stared at the floor, not in meekness, but out of frustration. Females of worth did not use words like that, and they did not pressure people for a tea towel, much less something like this.

Indeed, a proper female would stand by as the eldest male of her family handled the big decisions in her life, shaping the course of everything from where she lived to unto whom she was betrothed.

Outbursts. Sex. Swearing. Any more of this and she was going to make Vishous's wishes come true, because her healer - Manuel, that was - would find her so unattractive he would beg to be taken away from her with no memories of their time together.

Would she never fit the Layla standard of feminine perfection?

Rubbing her temples, she muttered, "You are both right - just for the wrong reasons. You and I could never last, because I am not a good match for any male."

"What?"

Tired of everything ... of him and her brother, of herself, of females and males in general ... she waved him off and turned away. "You say this is my world? You have that so very wrong. I do not belong here any more than you do."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

Verily, he might as well get the true picture of things on his way out. What the hell.

She stared over her shoulder. "I am the daughter of a god, Manuel. A deity. That glow you call forth from me? It is her very essence as an entity. That is what she is. As for my father? He was nothing but a sadistic bastard who imparted unto me the urge to kill - that was his 'gift.' And do you want to know what I did with it? Do you?" She was aware that her voice was rising but was singularly disinclined to quiet herself. "I killed him, Manuel. And for that crime against mine bloodline, for that offense against the standards of behavior for females, I was imprisoned and held for centuries. So you are too right. Go - and do it now. It is for the best. But do not think that I fit in here any better than you do."

With another curse, she pushed past him and strode out into the corridor, figuring Manuel would find himself freed very shortly -

"It was your brother. Wasn't it."

The calm, low words echoed down the barren hallway, stopping not just her feet, but her heart.

"I saw the condition he's in," Manuel said in a deep voice. "Any chance your father did that to the guy?"

Payne slowly turned back around. Standing in the middle of the corridor, her healer was showing neither shock nor horror, just an intelligence she was coming to expect from him.

"Why would you think that," she said in a dead tone.

"When I operated on him, I saw the scars, and it's pretty clear someone tried to castrate him. Extrapolating? From my limited interaction with him, I'd say he's way too touchy and aggressive for anyone to get the better of him. So it was either a gang of people or somebody who got him when he was really, profoundly vulnerable. I'm thinking the latter is more likely because ... well, let's just say I'd be surprised if abusive parents didn't happen for your kind, too."

Payne swallowed hard, and it was a long, long while before she could find her voice. "Our father ... had him held down. A blacksmith was ordered to tattoo him ... and then get a pair of pliers."

Manuel squeezed his eyes shut briefly. "I'm sorry. I'm really ... damned sorry."

"Our father was chosen as a sire for his aggression and ruthlessness, and my brother was given over to him when he was very young - whereas I stayed up at the Sanctuary with our mahmen. With naught to pass my time, I watched what transpired down here on Earth in the seeing bowls and ... over the course of years in the war camp, my brother was abused. I brought this to my mother time and time again, but she insisted upon adhering to the deal she had made with the Bloodletter." She curled her hands into tight fists. "That male, that forsaken, sadistic male ... he was not capable of siring sons, but she guaranteed him one so he would agree to mate with her. Three years after we were born, she relinquished Vishous unto our father's cruelty whilst she did her best to force me into a mold I would ne'er fit into. And then that last episode where Vishous was ..." Tears speared into her eyes. "No more - not any longer could I do nothing. I came down here and ... and I hunted the Bloodletter down. I held him to the ground whilst I burned him into ash. And I do not regret it."

"Who put you in jail?"

"My mother. But the imprisonment was only partially because he was dead. Sometimes I believe it was more her colossal disappointment in me." She wiped her face quickly and rubbed the wetness away. "But enough of this. Enough of ... all of it. Go now ... I shall speak to the king and send you off. Good-bye, Manuel."

Rather than waiting for him to respond, she headed off once more -

"Yes, I want you."

Payne stopped, and then looked over her shoulder again. After a moment, she said, "You are a fine healer and you have done your job, as you so aptly pointed out. We have no further cause to speak."

When she resumed walking, his footsteps approached fast and he caught her, wheeling her around. "If I didn't keep my pants on, I couldn't have kept myself out of you."

"Really."

"Give me your hand."

Without looking, she held one unto him. "Why ever for - "

He moved fast, putting her palm between his legs, and pressing her into the hot, hard length at his hips. "You're right." He moved against her, his pelvis undulating, the arousal pushing against her palm as he started to breathe deeply. "Even as I tried to tell myself otherwise, I knew that if I got naked, you were going to stay a virgin only long enough for me to get you on your back. Not romantic, but really, totally fucking true."

As her lips parted, his eyes dropped to her mouth and he growled, "You can feel the truth, can't you. It's in your goddamn hand."

"Do you not care about what I did ..."

"You mean with your father?" He stopped the rubbing and frowned. "No. To be clear, I'm a lex talionis kind of guy. Your brother could easily have died from those wounds - I don't care how fast you people heal. But more to the point, I'm willing to bet that father/son bonding moment fucked his head up for the rest of his life - so yeah, I don't have a problem with what you did."

Retaliatory justice, she thought as his words sank in.

Tightening her hold on him, she resumed what he had stopped, tracing up and down his sex, stroking. "I am glad you feel this way."

And wasn't that true on a lot of levels: His erection was delicious, so hard and blunt at the tip. She wanted to explore him as he had her ... with her fingers ... her mouth ... her tongue....

Manuel's eyes briefly rolled back into his head as he gritted his teeth. "But ... your brother's still right."

"Is he ..." She leaned in and licked at his lips. "Are you sure?"

When she drew back, there was a sizzling moment as their eyes met ... and then, with a growl, he spun her around and pushed her into the wall.

"Be careful," he growled.

"Why." She dipped her lips to his neck and slowly, inexorably dragged one fang up over his jugular.

"Oh ... fuck ..." With a desperate curse, he locked his hand on hers, holding her palm in place at his hips, obviously trying to refocus. "Listen to me. As good as this is between us ..." He swallowed hard. "As good ... Shit, look, your brother knows what's doing - I can't take care of you properly and - "

"I can take care of myself." She pressed her mouth to his, and she knew she had him when his pelvis began to push forward and ease back again: He may have halted her hand, but his body was more than making up the slack on the friction front.

"Fucking hell," he groaned, "do you want me to come right here?"

"Yes, I do. I want to know what it is like."

More kissing. And even though he was the one gripping her and pinning her against the wall, she was the aggressor.

Manuel pulled back, but only, it seemed, upon a great struggle within himself. After taking a number of deep breaths, he said, "You asked me whether I would stay if I could? In a heartbeat. You are beautiful and sexy and I don't know what the hell your mother or anyone else is doing comparing you to anything or anybody. Nothing comes close to you ... on any level."

As he spoke, he was lethally serious and abidingly sincere ... and the acceptance he offered was as generous as it was unique: She had never gotten it from anyone. Even her own brother wanted to deny her her choice of mate.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"It's not a compliment. That's just the way it is." Manuel kissed her mouth softly, and lingered with the contact. "But the Goateed Hater is still right, Payne."

"Goateed ... Hater?"

"Sorry. Little nickname I dreamed up for your twin." He shrugged. "But even still, I really think he does have your best interests at heart, and you do need someone other than me long-term - whether I can stay here or not is just part of the problem."

"Not in my eyes."

"Then you need to see more clearly. I'm going to be dead in another four decades. If I'm lucky. Do you really want to watch me age? Die?"

She had to close her eyes and turn her head away at the thought of him passing away. "Fates ... no."

In the quiet that followed, the energy between them changed, shifting from everything sexual ... to a different kind of yearning. And as if he felt as she did, he tucked her in against his body, holding her tightly within his strong arms.

"If there's one thing that I've learned as a doctor," he said, "it's that biology prevails. You and I can do all the deciding we want, but the biological differences are nothing that we can change. My life expectancy is a fraction of yours - at most, we'd get a ten-year window before I'm in Cialis land."

"What's that?"

"A very, very flat, gelded place," he said drily.

"Well ... I would go there with you, Manuel." She pulled back so she could look into his beautiful brown eyes. "Wherever it is."

There was a beat of silence. And then he smiled sadly. "I love the way you say my name."

Sighing, she put her head on his shoulder. "And I love saying it."

As they stood there, one against the other, she wondered whether it was for the very last time. And that made her think of her brother. She was worried about Vishous and needed to talk with him, but he had chosen to leave her with no way of finding him.

So be it. Difficult as it was, she would let Vishous go temporarily for now ... and focus on the male who was with her.

"I have something to ask of you," she said to her healer - Manuel, she corrected herself.

"Name it."

"Take me into your world. Show me ... if not everything, then something."

Manuel stiffened. "I don't know if that's such a hot idea. You've been on your feet for just over twelve hours at this point."

"But I feel strong, and I have ways of dealing with travel." Worse came to worst, she could just dematerialize back here to the compound: She knew from the seeing bowls that her brother had surrounded this facility with mhis, and that was a beacon she could readily find. "Trust me, I shall be in no danger."

"How would we get out together, though?"

Payne stepped from his hold. "You re-dress your body whilst I take care of everything." When it looked like he was going to argue, she shook her head. "You say biology always wins? Fine. But I say to you, we have this night - why should we waste it."

"More time together ... is only going to make it harder to leave."

Oh, how that hurt. "You said you would grant me a favor. I have put it upon you. Is your word not your bond?"

His lips thinned out. But then he inclined his head. "Fair enough. I'll go change."

As he headed back to their room, she returned to the office and picked up the phone, as Jane and Ehlena had shown her how to do. The dialing went well enough - and the butler doggen answered in a cheery voice.

This had to work, she told herself. This absolutely had to work.

In the Old Language, she said, "This is Payne, blooded sister of the Black Dagger Brother Vishous, son of the Bloodletter. I should wish to speak with the king, if he would grant me the courtesy."