Kim Knox - Pure Bond.pdf - Kim Knox - widez2

Pure Bond

Cover Art: Lisa Amrine

This is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are

products of the writerÓs imagination or have been used fictitiously and are

no construed to be real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead,

actual events, locale or organizations is entirely incidental.

All rights are reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in

any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of

brief excerpts or quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

Cam Vasek tossed the holy stone from hand to hand. ÐSo serious,

Doctor Jeroen. Am I destroying all of your precious data?Ñ

ÐWho are you?Ñ I stalked towards him and felt the little muscle jump

below my left eye. I knew exactly who he wasÈbut he didnÓt need to

know that. Yet.

ÐMe?Ñ Cam balanced the gold-green stone on the palm of his hand.

Its facets gleamed in the artificial white light cast by lamps hung from

grips all around the low cavern. ÐYou mean my fame hasnÓt spread to

your particular dusty corner of academia?Ñ

ÐIÓm glad to say I know nothing of your obnoxious self.Ñ

His laughter echoed and the holy stone of the long dead Adrienai

jumped, its facets sparking. Cam stared at it. ÐYÓknow, this thinks itÓs

funny too.Ñ

I blinked, the sudden spark of the stone making my pulse spike. I

hunted through my bag, pulled out a data analyser and pointed the sleek,

metal pad at the stone. ÐItÓs never reacted to anything before.Ñ I willed

myself to moved closer to him, so close the familiar spiced scent of his

skin filled my thoughts. Gritting my teeth, I fixed the analyser in the air

above the stone. The first part of my plan had just fallen into place. I

had to remember that.

ÐHow long have you been in this hole in the ground?Ñ

Cam stared around the cavern. Did he see the perfect replica of the

cut stone squatting on his outstretched palm? I focused on the stone, not

on him. Focused on how the still air rubbed uncomfortably damp and

warm against my skin and a thin slant of natural light hit the smooth floor

from the vent high above us, making me squint. Anything was preferable

to dwelling on him. Cam had dropped down through that man-made hole

only minutes before. Just as I knew he would. He looked back at me. ÐA

week? Two?Ñ

I tapped at the fluid screen of my analyser. ÐTwenty days.Ñ

ÐYouÓre kidding me.Ñ His gaze flicked around the shadows and fixed on

the narrow bunk shoved up against the wall with my jumble of stuff piled

around it. ÐTwenty days without climbing out toÈ?Ñ

My gaze flicked up and I frowned. ÐYour mind drops straight to the

gutter.Ñ

ÐSo IÓve been told.Ñ

Data streamed over the liquid surface of the analyser and pulled my

attention back to it. ÐAnd you seem proud of the fact.Ñ

ÐYou really donÓt know who I am, do you?Ñ I looked up and he lifted

his jaw, turning his profile to catch the light. ÐCam Vasek?" I kept my

face a mask of complete disinterest and faint dislike. ÐOh come on . Cam

Vasek? Leader of the Order of Cultural Exploration. IÓm famous

throughout the known-worlds.Ñ He smirked. ÐAnd banned on more than

half of them.Ñ

ÐMy dusty corner of academia has never heard of you.Ñ I pressed

more keys on my pad and held down a hard smile. ÐSo you canÓt be that

famous.Ñ

ÐI think living in a cave under a mountain has affected your brain.Ñ

ÐAh, insults now.Ñ I tilted my head. ÐYou know, this is really very

interesting.Ñ I grabbed the stone and moved away, holding it up to the

light. It slanted a warm beam of soft, green-gold light down to the sandy

floor. ÐSo what was your interest in it, Mr Vasek?Ñ

Anger ebbed from him and I bit back a smile. Served the arrogant

son-of-a-bitch right. You really donÓt know who I amÈ His words burned

through my brain. Oh, I knew exactly who he was. Who didnÓt? Cam

Vasek and his band of cronies, supposedly spreading the message of

sexual joyÈwhen all that he wanted to do was fleece the unsuspecting of

their wealth. I knew of his interest in the stone and I'd dedicated months

of my life to finding it. I hadÈand now, here he was...

He laughed. ÐEveryone who touches it becomes rejuvenated,

invigorated. It restores health and beauty. Who wouldnÓt want that?Ñ

ÐHas it worked on me?Ñ

His grin turned sharp and his eyes glittered. ÐAll right, almost

everyone.Ñ

So much for your infamous charm, Cam. I focused on the analyser.

The findings were scaling off the limits of the machine. My heart beat

faster. Oh, I had every intention of giving his precious stone to himÈjust

not in the way he planned.

Myths had surrounded the ancient stone, promising a wealth of things.

Later peoples had tied it to an ancient spring ceremony, where it had

formed the centrepiece of the ritual, said to focus the revitalising energies

of the strengthening sun. The stone's creators, the Adrienai, were said to

have used it as a marriage stone, binding one soul to another in complete

faithfulness. But what my readings actually confirmed was that the

Adrienai stone was a very sophisticated neural and DNA synthesiser.

Satisfaction tightened my gut. It would tie him to me and I'd enjoy

the resultÈbecause I had no interest in him. None. Not anymore. And not

even a soul-binding would change that. I'd take my revenge for how Cam

Vasek had found a rock, a lump of carved quartz more fascinatingÏ

I blinked as the stone lifted from my palm, spinning slow on its axis.

It spun higher, its facets flashing golden light into the shadowed corners

of the cavern.

ÐWhat theÏÐ CamÓs voice cut through my dazed thoughts. ÐIs it

meant to do that?Ñ

The ancient texts had always been vagueÏand crumblingÏso the

exact way the priests had used the stone to join the couple had eluded

me. From the data, it promised to be a form of genetic bonding.

The stone settled into the roof of the cavern, spinning in a hole carved

into the sandy rock. Being genetically bonded to Cam hadnÓt been my

first choice of revenge, but all other ways had eluded me. His followers

were fanatical, his wealth and power extreme as his ministry raked in

billions from the gullible fools who fell under his spell. Getting close to

him in any other way had proven impossible.

ÐI think it is supposed to do that,Ñ I said.

I glanced at him and in the now golden cast light of the stone I could

see where the spell would start to weave, where it had initially caught me.

He was tall, lithe with the carved perfection of a classical statue, only

accentuated by the staid black robes of his order. His golden hair shone

the same gleaming shade as the spinning stone. Wicked blue-grey eyes

fixed on me.

ÐYouÓre staringÈDoctor Jeroen.Ñ

I snapped my gaze away. Damn, my heat exchanger must have died,

because it was suddenly too hot. I pulled at the collar of my tunic, fingers

running slick against damp, flushed skin and I turned my attention back

to the stone high in the curve of the rock ceiling.

It slowed, slowed and then stoppedÈbut it didnÓt fall.

I let out a heavy breath. Was that it? Was I bound to him? Hell, I

didnÓt feel any different. That was easy enough. Now, IÓd tell him about

how IÓd altered who I really wasÏ

I rubbed at my throat. Each breath I pulled in didnÓt carry enough

oxygen. My burning lungs fought for air as a vortex swirled out from the

stone. It scoured the curved ceiling, spitting dust and grit down over my

face. And it was growing. Shit. This was not good.

ÐWe should get outÏÐ

ÐYes.Ñ Cam grabbed my arm, tugging me beneath the vent. ÐWait till

the air settlesÏÐ

The light shafting down from the vent vanished. A clatter cut through

the rumble of the swirling air and my ladder lay in a crumpled heap on the

sandy floor. I stared up. The vent slab I'd uncovered had dropped back

into place, the seams blending into the cavern roof as if they'd never

been. ÐThis is bad. Very bad.Ñ

ÐItÓs an illusion.Ñ CamÓs voice stayed calm, controlled and I didn't want

to admire him for it. ÐItÓs what, two and a half metres? IÓll lift youÏÐ

ÐYouÓll do no such thing!Ñ

ÐMe, or being rasped to pieces by grit and sand? WhatÓs your choice?Ñ

I glared at him but nodded. He bend and strong arms encircled my

thighs, just under my buttocks. Goosebumps prickled my skin at the

press of his face into the crease of my leg and the curve of my pelvis. His

arms tightened and he grunted as he lifted me. I had to grab at his

shoulders to maintain my balance, finding hard muscle beneath the thin

material of his robe.

I swallowed and desperately tried to ignore the sudden heat swelling

low in my belly. What was wrong with me? IÓd conditioned myself

against everything that Cam Vasek was. But with his face, his mouth , so

temptingly close to the source of my sudden ache? All of my mind

techniques, my hours of mediating simply melted away.

Kim Knox - Pure Bond.pdf

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