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  He remained serious. “You should not wander the countryside alone.”

  “I have no choice. I go when I need to. It isn’t like I can call on Jemyalli. She only makes it up about once a month or when she wants to tell me about someone she pimped me out to.”

  They walked the rest of the way in silence until they were at her door. She opened the door and stepped inside.

  He sighed. “You don’t even lock the door?”

  “There is nothing here to steal.” She shrugged and took the bag from him. Rhoda unpacked the shampoo and conditioner, tucking them into her bathroom. The pumice-style soap went into her studio, and her bottle of brandy went into the cupboard.

  Drehl left her home and went out to his transport. He returned with a box and several small parcels. “Under is a security specialist. I will ask him to take a look at your home.”

  She blinked. “That isn’t necessary.”

  He cocked his head. “I am aware of that, but I will sleep better if I know you are safe.”

  He placed the box in her studio, and she peered around him. “What is that?”

  “A present for you. Open it.”

  She flicked the latch of the box loose and opened it. Neatly slotted inside were blank canvases. “How did you know I was running out?”

  “I checked. Open the bags.”

  She opened the bags and couldn’t fight the pleased smile as high-end pigments filled each bag. “Thank you. It is so thoughtful…thank you.” She got to her feet and hugged him.

  His arms came around her, and he sighed. “I want to do more.”

  She inhaled his unique scent. “I know you do. I just want you to know—”

  A knock at the door broke into her sentence.

  She scowled. “Remain here please. There are usually only two types of people who come up here. Clients are one.”

  She didn’t tell him who the other was, but as the banging sounded again, she winced. Rhoda opened the door and inclined her head in greeting. “Hello.”

  “Rhoda Evergreen?” The immigration officer scowled down at his clipboard and looked up again. His red eyes were cold.

  “Yes.”

  “I am here to inspect your property and assess your employment status.” He smiled coldly. “Of course, I could be persuaded to skip the inspection.”

  She groaned, and to her shock, Charm walked out of her studio and looked down at the official. “What is going on here?”

  The official panicked. “I am here on a routine greeting, Guardian. Nothing more.”

  “It seems like considerably more. This sort of thing is illegal even by Yacaro standards. I will be speaking to your superior, and his, about this. This artist has saved the lives of thirteen citizens of our world and deserves to live her life without fear of losing her home.”

  The immigration official was backing away as Charm moved forward until he stumbled off her porch and ran for his one-man grav sled.

  Rhoda was shocked as she watched the official leave in a spray of dust and gravel. Charm turned, and as she watched, his suit slowly folded away from him until he stood in the same clothing he was wearing earlier.

  She blinked. “You are always in uniform?”

  “Technically, yes. Now, I have a proposal that will cease your worries about being thrown off Yacaro.”

  He put an arm around her waist and escorted her into the studio. He prodded her to sit on the stool she kept for clients. Drehl walked out and returned with two glasses of wine. “Here. Drink. You need it.”

  Rhoda sipped at the wine, ignoring what it was going to do to her hormones. “What is your idea?”

  “Marry me.”

  Her head swam from more than just the wine. “What?”

  “Marry me. You will become a citizen, a Genaran, and be invulnerable to the machinations of the politicians and officials.”

  “How will marrying you make me a Genaran? Isn’t it a species?” The wine must be working, because she was considering it.

  “It is more a state of infection. We adapted so well to the nanobots that Genar used to treat us that our bodies generate them constantly now. Mine are slightly more aggressive and I am able to control them after they leave me. That is what gives me my place as a Guardian.”

  She blinked and gulped some of the wine. “So, I would be infected and therefore get the Genaran classification if we married? How do you manage with other women?”

  “I use protection. The nanites only leave when requested to.”

  “So, that is how your talent works?” She licked her lips and set her glass aside.

  “To a certain extent. Every once in a while, the Genaran population has a person born who contains a gland, which creates an abnormal amount of the nanites. I can send them out and control them via my voice.”

  She blinked and shifted toward him, her body starting to rev into high gear. “I do like your voice.”

  He leaned toward her, and his belt chirped again. He groaned and gave her a swift kiss. “I want an answer when I return.”

  Drehl put on his armour on the way out, and when he left her home, he took off. Her com unit flared to life and Drehl’s voice hissed at her. “Lock the door, Rhoda.”

  Smiling, she latched the door and leaned back on it as she fought to control her breathing. When a knock brought her out of her daze, she smiled and turned to open the door. “Did you forget something?”

  Five immigration officers were standing on her porch, and she only vaguely saw the fist that came at her face before everything went dark.

  Chapter Eight

  Cold water sluiced over her, and Rhoda gasped as she woke up. Her hands were shackled together, and she was in a minute cell barely big enough for her to pace her own body length. “What the hell?”

  The department head stood in front of her cell door. “It would have been easier for you if you had not refused to pay, painter.”

  She winced and touched her eye. “I didn’t refuse to pay.”

  He scowled. “You refused to pay the officer this time.”

  Rhoda shook her head, watching his posture go from smug to aggressive. “I didn’t refuse the officer. The Guardian that was in my home refused to allow me to pay and sent your officer on his way.”

  “What Guardian?”

  “Charm.”

  Uncertainty changed his posture again. “Charm was in your home? Why?”

  “Because I was involved in a hostage situation yesterday. I had been injured, and he was coming to check on me.” It would be easy enough for him to confirm that she had indeed run into the Guardians the day before. “He took offense to your officer’s suggestion that I should pay to remain in my own home as a participating part of Yacaro society.”

  The department head disappeared from her cell door, and she continued to sit in the holding cell. Based on her assessment of the change in light across the hall, she estimated that an hour had passed.

  An officer stood in front of the cell and said, “You have a visitor.”

  “How could I have a visitor, no one knows I am here.”

  She got to her feet and stood with the dried blood of her split cheek itching. A man with elaborate clothing and the skin cast of a Genaran stood in front of her. His eyes wore the same tattoos as Drehl, and his face was so familiar to her that she gave a graceful bow. “Your Highness.”

  He smiled grimly. “It seems my brother has declared himself to you.”

  “That depends. Who is your brother?”

  He chuckled. “Drehl. He is away on…business and asked me to check on you. Imagine my surprise when your home had been ransacked and your studio destroyed.”

  “They…” She dropped to her knees at the thought of her work in tatters. “Everything?”

  He frowned. “Most of the canvases that were on display were sliced to ribbons. It was the seizure notice on your door that gave me a clue as to your whereabouts. How much did you fight?”

  She shook her head. “I didn’t. I opened the door and wa
s greeted by a fist. How bad does it look?”

  “Half your face is a disturbing colour that I am guessing is not normal for your species.” He gestured, and the officer unlocked her cell door. “Our first stop will be a physician.”

  She cleared her throat. “What is our second stop?”

  “My home. You will remain there until Drehl returns from his business. It is safe for you, unlike your current situation.” He offered her his arm, and she placed her cuffed hand on his.

  They walked out of the holding area, and he paused while the officer outside the holding area removed her cuffs. The harsh red bands on her skin made her frown and the frown made her wince.

  “So, Rhoda Evergreen, how is it that my brother knows you are the one for him?”

  She cleared her throat. “I sketched his destiny, and I was in it. It was the first time I have ever appeared in my own work.”

  “So, you convinced my brother that you were his destiny?”

  “No. He insisted that the original sketch was correct despite the fact that I was trying to destroy it.”

  The prince signed documents at the front desk, and the officer cringed away from him.

  She cleared her throat. “What is your name?”

  “Kebril. Prince Kebril if you want to be formal.” He ushered her into a transport, and his driver took off.

  He spoke clearly. “Ysmas, take us to the Genaran medical centre.”

  They elevated above traffic, and the jolt of speed pushed her back into the comfortable seat, as well as caused an ache in her head.

  Rhoda looked down and saw the capitol under them as they increased in speed. “They were going to deport me.”

  She shuddered at the thought of being shoved onto the first low-class transport leaving Yacaro. Most of the cheap seats involved being sent in cold sleep, and once you were out, you were fair game. She didn’t have a lot of marketable skills aside from her paintings and sketches so that was the least appealing of any option that she had been presented with. Life as a slave didn’t suit her temperament.

  “Yes. They were not pleased that I appeared. Apparently, one of the Guardians declared you to be off limits for extortion. I can guess which one.” Kebril smiled.

  “You would probably guess correctly. He was…concerned when an officer came to my door and demanded a bribe.”

  Kebril rubbed his face. “That sounds like him. How long have you known him?”

  “Three days in total.”

  Shock was printed on his features. “Three days and he declared himself?”

  She nodded. “It shocked me too. Mind you, so did the sight of myself in his arms when I drew the sketch.”

  He chuckled softly. “You were not interested in him?”

  “I am drawn to him, interest does not enter into the question.” Unless she was drinking, then that grey skin and those dark eyes were all she wanted.

  They sat silently while her head took up a steady beat that made conversation unappealing. Kebril noticed it, and he kept quiet while the driver took them across the continent and into the Edival mountain range.

  A city appeared in the groove between two mountains. Their transport descended and landed on the roof of a building with a landing deck.

  Kebril helped her out of the vehicle, and as she stepped out, she clung to him for support. Her legs were weak, her head spun and she was nauseous.

  Medical staff came out to greet them, and after one look at her, they took her in and she was riding a hover bed into the scanning units.

  Rhoda listened to the murmurs that broke down her injuries. Apparently, while her skull was the most painful due to a crack, her ribs were injured, and she had internal bleeding where kicks had been administered.

  Kebril was nearby while they were listing her injuries, and as they began treatment, he turned and left the exam room.

  Rhoda watched the medics carefully as they set about working on her body. She was stable in two hours, and they put her in a patient room to rest.

  Kebril came in, and he stood next to her bed. “Drehl will be here shortly. He will administer your healing, and you can accompany him to his home.”

  She blinked. “I thought I was going to your home.”

  “That was before we knew the extent of your injuries. You need additional healing beyond just the bruising. It is an intimate procedure, and he will be the one to assist you.”

  “This is about the nanites, isn’t it?” She frowned. “He is going to use his to heal me.”

  Kebril nodded. “He is one of the few that can donate enough to cure this damage immediately. I mean, you would still heal, but it would take weeks if not months for you to be up to full health.”

  Rhoda rubbed her forehead. “How long until Drehl comes?”

  “Is the pain bad?”

  “No, the pain of knowing that my work has been destroyed is worse than my headache.”

  He shook his head. “Artists are a strange breed.”

  She sniffed. “I prefer to think of us as random events in the population.”

  Kebril sat at her side and took the data pad that controlled the entertainment screen.

  “Are you planning on staying?”

  He chuckled and scrolled through local news feeds. “You have to be kept awake until you are healed. I will honour my brother’s choice and keep you company.”

  She made herself comfortable and watched the news of her arrest and subsequent release. The reporter made note of the fact that witnesses indicated she had not resisted and yet still suffered a beating. An inquiry was being launched, and she could not be reached for comment.

  The close up of her bruising and the blood down her cheek from the open tissue made her wince. “I looked like hell.”

  “You did. It was a little startling to see that the woman my brother had described as lovely and almost crystalline was puffy, bruised and dazed.”

  An image of Rhoda from the gala appeared on the screen, and Kebril looked at the picture and smiled. “Ah, that is quite the difference and quite the gown. Your wardrobe was empty when I arrived. You will have to start from scratch, I am afraid.”

  She groaned and leaned back into her pillows. “That is going to be a pain. Trying to find something to fit is complicated.”

  “Well, we can make that easier. Pick a style and your scanned measurements will allow local seamstresses to bid on the right to make your gown. It is a fairly fair system. You decide if you want to accept the bids or not.”

  She reached for the controls. “Can you show me how to do it and help me pick things that are appropriate?”

  He grinned. “Of course. Now, shall we start with underwear?”

  He took charge of her shopping, and together, they worked through the night until Drehl returned to heal her.

  Chapter Nine

  Rhoda felt him enter the building, and as he walked into her room a few minutes later, she was sitting up and smiling tiredly. She didn’t speak. She didn’t want to wake Kebril up.

  Drehl looked like hell, but he walked to the side of her bed, took her in his arms and lifted her for a kiss.

  As his tongue slipped into her mouth, she felt a tingling in her blood that started at their kiss and ran through her body. The ache in her head slowly began to fade, as did the pain in her face.

  Drehl’s arm under her lifted her until her breasts were pressed tightly to his chest and she clung to his shoulders.

  “Glad to see you made it, Drehl.” Kebril’s sleepy voice was amused.

  Rhoda didn’t turn to look at Kebril. She kept her eyes closed and her mouth linked with Drehl’s. Every slide of his tongue sent spikes of heat and energy into her, and she wanted more.

  When he parted from her, she made a sound of protest, but he kissed her forehead and her cheeks to calm her. “Good morning, Rhoda.”

  She smiled, and the swelling faded from her face. “Good morning, Your Highness.”

  He laughed and shifted so that one arm was under her knees, another behi
nd her back. Kebril was already standing, and they left the hospital room with a nod to the staff.

  “Why do Genarans need a medical centre anyway?”

  Drehl whispered, “Not all have enough nanites to effect healing.”

  “Oh.”

  They left the centre, and he tucked her into his sleek transport. Drehl spoke to Kebril for a moment and gave him a short hug before he returned to take the controls.

  Rhoda thought he was going to pilot them, but the ship took off without him doing a thing.

  She could see that he was seething between irritation, concern and relief, and she didn’t know what to say. “So, your brother seems nice.”

  He gave her an amazed look before snorting and pulling her into his lap. “Kebril came to see you in an effort to convince you that you were unsuitable. When he saw what had been done to your home and then your person, he had to act the gentleman.”

  She blinked. “Oh. He seemed perfectly nice.”

  Drehl chuckled and hugged her. “You charmed him. He also loves shopping for women. Combine the two and he was putty in your hands.”

  She conjured the image of Kebril and putty was not the word she would use for the physical monolith he presented. “He did seem to enjoy the shopping. He was more into it than I was.”

  Drehl nuzzled her neck. “He enjoys choosing clothing for his women. Consider it a fetish.”

  She shivered until what he said sank in. “What? He was getting off on it?”

  He chuckled and his lips worked over her skin. “Not in your case, but he did enjoy the hunt and working toward practical instead of titillating. Of course, he slipped in a few of his personal preferences, but they should be fairly easy to spot.”

  “Why not in my case?”

  His hand caressed her hip. Drehl lifted his head, the glyphs on his face giving him a serious expression. “When I healed you the first time, I left some of my nanites active in case you encountered one of my kind. Basically, when Kebril spoke to you, you had my marks in your bloodstream.”