Phaze Fantasies Volume 4 Read online

  On one wall there was a green carved marble mantle flanked by a dark leather club chair. Black bookcases filled every other wall, from floor to ceiling, every inch of shelf taken with books.

  Over on an oak desk there was a lamp. Although she didn't want the light to wake anyone up, her curiosity to learn more about her new husband won, and she lit the wick and trimmed it low.

  It was a masculine room, but more than that, it was imposing. It was centuries of learning, knowledge, and writing all in one room. Knowing Martin he'd searched every nook and cave of the earth trying to find a cure for the Scorpicos and found every book on healing ever written.

  She loved that about him. He was passionate in his purpose to find the solution. Failure couldn't be an option. The responsibility of his profession and his calling carved itself into every line on his face. In his case, it made it a wonderful face. One filled with character and depth that she wanted to know more about.

  She dragged her finger along the shelves as she read the titles, some in languages she didn't recognize. It amazed her that he never gave up. That he sacrificed everything he was to help others. It made her feel unworthy, that held in comparison somehow she was lacking. She hoped that he didn't see that part of her. She was sure he did, she couldn't hide her faults very well, but she wanted to ice herself up nice and sweet so maybe it filled in her weak spots enough to pass muster.

  For the past few years she and Martin had been circling in the same sphere, helping the city orphans in any way they could. With his training, his efforts were more practical, but she was able to provide a safe house for some of them. At least, she hoped she did.

  She turned the knob on the lamp and watched as the flame disappeared, then sank into his club chair and stared up at the stained glass. Off to the side in a basket was an old wool blanket and she pulled it up over her and buried her face in it, wanting to hide like she did when she was a child. It surprised her when it smelled like Martin. Not strongly, like he used the blanket every day, but traces, and she brought it to her nose and inhaled, letting it comfort her.

  The scariest part of the day had nothing to do with the shooting, or the marriage, but that she didn't like the overwhelming wanting she now had for him. Now when she saw him she itched to run her hands through his hair, and smell his skin. She anticipated the gleam in his eye, and how it made her knees weaken.

  As long as he had been Doc Detweiller, she never had to think about him as a man. He was a professional, a business man, even a healer. But never once did she see him as just Martin. A man who withstood the most excruciating embarrassment with courage that left her in awe. Her respect for him tripled today. Unfortunately, her desire did, too.

  She could admit now that he was right when he told her she needed time to adjust. It was mortifying, what she'd done. Acting like a cow-eyed adolescent wasn't the route she had planned to take on asking him to sleep with her. Apparently she wasn't that good of a seductress, because nothing she'd tried had worked, and when he'd said no it was a severe blow to her pride. What she had left after the day's adventures. Helping him fill the vial had been the most sexually exciting and embarrassing thing she'd ever done. It made her think of him in ways she couldn't ever erase from her mind.

  And she didn't want to.

  Chapter Five

  As soon as Martin closed the door behind him, it opened once more and Xavier and Canine bounded through, oblivious to his mood and need for solitude.

  He couldn't blame the boy. Or the dog. Huge changes took place in the house today. Xavier was used to privacy, as they all were, and now there was a houseful of children. They would all need to know about Xavier's condition and he was sure Xavier wasn't comfortable with that. Canine settled in with a grunt on his blanket on the floor at the foot of the bed.

  "Have you met Amy yet?” Xavier splayed himself across Martin's bed with his feet hanging off the edge.

  "No, I haven't. I'm sure I will tomorrow at breakfast. Katerina has told me some about her."

  Xavier started bouncing his legs. “She helped Mathilde get all of the children settled in and fed."

  "Well, that was good of her. I'm sure Katerina would expect no less."

  "And she helped feed them all, too."

  "Good.” Martin took his shirt off, folded it, and placed it on a chair even though it was filthy. He resisted the urge to ball it up and throw it into a corner. “How do you feel about everyone coming here to live? I would have spoken to you about it, but I had to make a sudden decision."

  "Everything is great. After I helped clear the supper table I took Amy out to the pond and told her about things here. She's not much older than I am."

  Martin sat on the edge of his bed and tried to understand what he was hearing. “You brought her out to the pond?"

  Xavier never went to the pond with anyone. It was his private place, and Martin had always allowed him privacy there. He was amazed Xavier shared it with Amy so quickly. But maybe not. Xavier knew he didn't have long.

  "Yeah, and she's like me, she can't sing at all. I did my impression of that Stone Heart song that makes Derwold laugh all the time? She snorted. We cracked up."

  Again, for the zillionth time today, Martin was dumbfounded. He'd always heard parents joke about children coming with a manual, and he never understood the joke. Maybe it was that Xavier wasn't his child, and that altered the way they related to each other. But now, he wanted that imaginary handbook because he had no idea how to proceed.

  Xavier expounded on the perfection that was Amy, and Martin turned responses over in his mind until he knew there would be no right way to deal with Xavier's feelings. If anything, Xavier himself knew the problems that were ahead of him. But Martin knew confrontation would only make the boy defensive.

  Maybe it would be better if he let them both go, but under a watchful eye. Knowing what he did about Amy, if her heart became involved and Xavier died—and he eventually would if Martin couldn't find a cure—it wouldn't be fair to her to bear the death of everyone she loved in her life. The strongest of people couldn't bear such heartbreak—it would only be right that Xavier be honest with her and let her make the decision. But he would have to do it before they became more emotionally involved. It didn't leave much time, because the boy was enamored.

  It was devastating to watch Xavier going on about her. He deserved to love someone, and he needed to be loved in return. And to know that Doc was responsible for keeping him alive so he could have those things ... Doc wouldn't know what to do if he couldn't find a cure. Time was running out for Xavier. A few months were all he had left. And there was the very real possibility that the precursor wouldn't work at all. He thought it was a viable theory, but it was still a theory.

  Would Amy be happy with a few months? Did they realize that if the hormones didn't work, Xavier's last days would be in full spider form trapped in the cage until there was no shred of the humanity that was once Xavier left?

  Then Doc would have to give him a final injection that would stop his heart. His throat swelled with the thought. For as much as Doc wanted Xavier to have someone, knowing that it would end in such pain didn't seem like the responsible decision.

  "And then she skipped a rock across it and when we came back to the house I helped her with folding all the laundry that they brought for the little ones."

  Doc swallowed past the ache in his throat. “Xavier, she sounds wonderful—"

  "She is! Did you know that she can speak French fluently?"

  Martin put his hand on the boy's thigh. “Xavier, you need to think about your health, how it will affect your relationship with her. Do you want her to be hurt if everything goes wrong?"

  In an instant Xavier's face went from open and animated to harsh and angry.

  "It won't! You'll find a cure for me, I know you will. You're a genius."

  Xavier's childlike faith was Martin's undoing. He looked at the ceiling and blinked. “Xavier, I'm just a person, I may not be able to figure out a cure in
time. You need to think about that and how it can hurt her."

  Xavier's brows drew down. “I won't hurt her."

  "You won't mean to, but it will happen."

  "No, I won't."

  "Xavier,” Martin pitched his voice low and calmed himself down. “You can't have a physical relationship with her."

  "It's not like that!"

  "No, it's not now—but it will be one day if you get closer. It's a natural progression. How will you tell her you can't have sex? That she can't ever have children with you? Is it fair to her to not tell her these things and let her make a decision?"

  "You just don't want me to be happy!” Xavier stood up, his face scarlet, and squared himself off.

  Martin had to calm him down. He put his hand out and beckoned Xavier to sit. “I, more than anyone, want to see you happy, Xavier. But you're old enough to understand that it's your responsibility to tell her these things, and let her make her decision. That is what being a grownup is about."

  "I will tell her, you just don't understand how it feels to love someone! You don't have anyone like Amy and you don't get it."

  How did a person who spoke three languages do such a piss poor job of communicating with an adolescent? Now what did he do? He wished Kat were awake and here to help him, because he knew that he was making it worse. He had no idea how to fix it, either.

  "We can talk about this tomorrow, Xavier. I'm tired and I don't know how to make this better with you now. Maybe you're tired, too, and need to get some sleep. You change earlier when you haven't had enough sleep. You need to be careful, especially with Amy and the other children here."

  "Stop telling me what to do! I'm not an idiot."

  "No, you're not. But we both need some rest. We can talk about this tomorrow?"

  "You're an asshole!” Xavier stormed out, slamming the door so hard it shook the hinges.

  Doc rubbed his eyes, and let the pain of his frustration sit in his chest for a few minutes. He needed to feel it. It fed him. It was the force that drove him every day, and it was the fear that kept him up at night.

  He could forgive himself of many things, but failure was not one of them. If anything, now he needed to work twice as hard, to find something before Scorpicos not only destroyed Xavier, but those now in his care.

  He pulled a clean shirt from the armoire and called for Canine to come downstairs with him. The dog followed at his heels, the ever faithful companion in the labs even when he was there for days.

  Right now he needed a drinking partner and headed towards the library where his decanters were. Not too much, but enough to calm him down and let him focus on something other than death. As he passed the door Katerina was behind, he paused and wondered if she slept well. If she had everything she needed. Maybe he could go in and check, to make sure.

  What he would like was for her to take him in her arms and tell him that he would find the solution to his problems. Or maybe she would be his research partner. Anything, but most of all to find oblivion and rest in her body. The second he thought it, he felt guilty. Wasn't that exact need what he chastised her for this evening? And now he understood why she needed him. Because those few moments of lost time were balm to a person's soul.

  As excruciating as the Marriage Office had been, he liked sharing those moments with her. He felt more connected to her because of them.

  And he wanted her now, because of the desire he saw in her eyes, but he lifted his hand from her doorknob and kept walking down the hall and stairs to the library.

  The door opened with its usual creak and he walked over to the sidebar to pour a snifter of cognac. He couldn't take the stress anymore. Maybe it was just the fact that it was a different stress added in to his normal amount. Stress was a part of his life. Sexual tension was not.

  Normally he would just take care of himself as just a bodily function and get back to work. He always thought more clearly after an orgasm anyway.

  But now it was a tangled skein of desire and need and the only relief he wanted was Kat.

  There were always women in his life, but they were more of an ancillary position. Something he used to amuse him or take care of his sexual needs. He didn't admire or respect any of them, that was for sure. They'd always wanted him for his position in the community, for safety and what he could provide. He didn't blame them, even getting food was a Herculean task, but he wanted more than to be someone's assurance of a meal and a place to sleep. He wanted someone to help him in his pursuit, what he felt was his calling. He'd always wished for someone like her, and now they were married.

  When he'd gone to try and convince her to sell him the shipment of orchids he never expected for her to refuse him. As far as he was concerned, only a fool would refuse the amount of money he offered. It was more than a person could wish for, and at one hundred eighty thousand dollars for one hundred orchids, he thought it was a great return on her investment.

  What he didn't know was that she needed the shipments to ensure the safety of her orphans. He thought she was providing a luxurious existence for them, and if she was, all the better for her. But it was nothing like he assumed.

  Instead she was barely keeping them alive and having to pay the Mayor's council in contraband so she could never reach higher for help.

  As he turned the problem over in his mind on the train, he couldn't think up any other solution. And the worst part, was realizing he didn't mind. Not that he was ambivalent. Instead he found himself enjoying the thought of spending his days with her.

  He stood in front of the bar and finished the drink, then went over to the table to turn on the gas lamp. It flickered to life, casting a glow over the room, and he went to his desk where his papers and research books lay out exactly as he'd left them.

  Quickly he scanned where he left off, trying to pick up the train of thought. He heard Canine's muffled mumble and turned to find Katerina, sleeping in his chair with his old baby blanket tucked under her chin.

  * * * *

  Kat knew he stood over her, but she kept her eyes closed anyway. She came downstairs to get away from him, not to have him staring at her. Maybe if she pretended to sleep long enough, he would leave her and walk away. Not likely, with her luck. Especially today.

  He grabbed a corner of the blanket and covered the side of her leg, which she must have kicked off after she fell asleep. It wasn't what she expected him to do. So she lay there, pretending to sleep because she couldn't figure out if she wanted to screech at him or thank him. Or beg him again to fuck the chaos away. It would have to be screeching, that she could take back or apologize for. Sex—you couldn't pretend it didn't happen.

  A wet snuffle nosed her thigh and her eyes flew open, startled and scared, but knowing nothing would hurt her.

  "Canine, you woke her,” Martin chastised the dog in a husky whisper.

  She faked a yawn. “You couldn't come up with a better name than that?” She sat up, but kept the blanket secure around her. It wasn't the best nightgown to wear. But then she hadn't intended on being caught in dishabille.

  "I didn't have time to think of one that suited him."

  Why was she talking about a dog's name? This was not the subject they needed to discuss. But she didn't want to talk about the other things, either. So, dog's names were a good subject after all.

  His face held more worry than it did before, and she could tell he hadn't slept at all either. Damn it, she didn't want to pity him, it sucked away all that good, ferocious anger. Anger that could have been an effective tool in keeping him away from her for a few days. Or months.

  He sat on the rolled arm of the chair and pinched the bridge of his nose. “There have been some developing circumstances that I think you should be apprised of. Apparently, while we were gone, Xavier grew a bit of a crush on your Amy."

  "Xavier?” She tried to stay calm. The last thing Amy needed was a suitor.

  Martin's forehead wrinkled. “Xavier is the Scorpicos youth I've been working with and using to develop th
e Scorpicos cure."

  "So, he's a part time bug."

  Martin frowned. “Being cruel won't help the situation."

  "I don't mean to be cruel, but that is what he is, is it not?"

  "Yes.” He sighed.

  "Amy has dealt with more horror in her life than most people, and that is considering the wars and the fallout from them. It would be unbearably cruel to have her grow any affection towards him and then have him die.” The blanket slipped down her shoulder and his eyes followed it.

  "I told him as much."

  "And what did he say?"

  "That I had no idea how he felt."

  She snorted. “Typical. Was there any sulking and slamming?"

  "Yes. To both."

  "Well, apart from the disease, he sounds normal.” It didn't make her any less apt to strangle the kid. He had no idea. “They're quite selfish at that age and can't see the world beyond their own needs and expectations. Cut him some slack, I know adults who are no better."

  "But what should we do?"

  She could tell by the tone of his voice that he was reaching the end of his ability to cope. His words were very precise and his voice controlled. How she understood that, she had no idea, but it made her want to put her hand on his thigh and reassure him.

  "We watch them. If you demand that he not pursue her, he will, fourfold. It's happening here, in the house, so we can supervise and make sure that it doesn't go too far. Don't forget, Amy may reject him."

  "That worries me more."

  The mask fell from his face and she saw all of his anxiety and burden that he carried for this child. For all of the Scorpicos youths. It made him look tired and old, and her heart squeezed.

  He inhaled, and went on, “Xavier is fragile. For all of his bravado, he skirts the precipice of destruction constantly now. He's moments from losing complete control of the disease. Once turning, never being able to return to human form, it eats away at his humanity. He wants nothing more than a normal life. To have friends—everything that encompasses a life for a nineteen-year-old. And he wants love. He has no family, they deserted him when they realized that he was afflicted. Does he ask so much, that he has someone to love him? I do, but it's not the same, and he knows that."