Page 3 of Forbidden

At the mention of the Pilot, the obviously battle-hardened man blanched. “Dear God! And you expect me to believe you aren’t suicidal?”

“Sergeant, I want to kill as many Gothies as I can. Now, as a surgical nurse, I probably won’t have the opportunity to actually kill any at all, but maybe I can patch together a few of our men and women who can.”

“Well,” he said, his focus once again on the files and papers scattered on his desk, “if there are no other more recent incidents, you’ve cleared the waiting period by exactly one day, but I suspect you did that on purpose.” He referred to the mandatory two-year enlistment waiting period set up by the UWA just after the Pilot incident. Too many men and women had thrown their lives away needlessly after that massacre, and Earth didn’t have the people to spare.

“I watched them butcher my husband and my son, Sergeant. The only reason I’m still here is because I can still have children.” A lie, but then again so was the rest of her story. “I should have been on a transport back to their home world, but I managed to get away after I killed a couple of them.” God help her if anyone found out differently.

Mahoney sighed. “You realize that just being a nurse isn’t going to cut it at the Front. There will be other training you’ll need before we can send you in.”

“What other training, Sergeant?”

“For one thing, the doctors and nurses at the M.A.S.H. units there do more than surgeries. They actually have to go into the field and get the wounded more than half the time, so you’re going to need some training in emergency evacuation and medical intervention. That can take at least six months to complete at best.”

“Would it help speed things up if I told you I am a nationally registered emergency medical technician paramedic as well as a nurse?” she asked with a smirk. She knew very well it would make a difference. She had been planning this since the day her family died… andheleft. “I’m perfectly qualified in the areas you just mentioned.”

“I see,” Mahoney said. He paused to stare at her as if sizing her up. “Well,” he finally continued, “I’ll run this by the regional commanding officer and see if we can get you out there in a couple of days.” He stood and offered her his hand. “I’ll be in touch, Ms. Garrett.”

When she would have pulled her hand from his, his grip tightened. “I want you to really think about what you’re doing, Anna. That place is as close to hell as anyone can ever see. Some of the weapons they use are designed to make the torment last as long as possible. They make what they used at the Pilot look like squirt guns.”

Anna smiled. “Thank you, Sergeant. I’m making this request with my eyes wide open. I know what I’m getting myself into.” That statement was only partially true.

She knew about the Front, but she didn’t know about Kahn the Merciless, and he was the reason she was going there in the first place. She knew that, if she could survive, she would eventually find the man because his forces would push back the battle lines and the chances of her getting captured were great. She was taking a huge gamble that he’d see her before she was killed, but it was one she had to take. She had dreamt of the man every night since he had saved her and two things were very clear to her -- he needed her more than ever, and if the dreams didn’t stop soon, she’d probably die from unfulfilled lust.

?* * *

A week later, she sat on a bus filled with determined, if frightened, men and women headed to a little place near what used to be Lexington, Kentucky -- the state’s own little piece of hell nicknamed the Front. She was going there intending to be taken as a prisoner of war by a race of people who didn’t take prisoners. She was walking into the lion’s den and, God help her, she had never been more excited in her life.

Chapter Two

“I don’t care if you have his leg,” Anna snapped to the enlisted nurse. “The Gothies will be here long before we could possibly get it packed for transport.” They made their way through the M.A.S.H. unit, preparing for the latest attack. Anna had been in Lexington three months, and was now the most senior medical staff member.

She felt for the young soldier, she really did, but they didn’t have time for niceties. “Give him a choice, Lieutenant. He can either stay here and hope the Gothe’maran will be so kind as to reattach his leg before they kill him, or he can be moved out with everyone else and lose it. And I don’t plan to leave anyone behind.”

Other than herself, of course. She’d make sure she was captured and damn the consequences. But she got the feeling thatheknew what she had planned and would be waiting for her.

Suddenly, there was a flash near Anna’s surgical suite. A deafening silence followed it, as if all sound had been simply sucked into a vacuum. The air around her seemed thick and unbreathable. Dizziness swamped her and she fell to her knees with a jarring thud. Her hands instinctively flew out to grasp whatever was in reach to steady herself. As the room spun around her, she looked up… and her eyes locked with those of Kahn Mak’un.

He stood in the doorway of the tent, his soldiers fanning out to check the other collapsed bodies round the room. She thought that odd because the Gothies usually just killed everyone they came across. He moved toward her. Her last thought before the blackness claimed her wasHe’s found me at last.

?* * *

What had happened to the humans was tragic. And those deplorable acts had been done in his name. Kahn could see the fear on the faces of those people of Earth he met as he walked through the tiny camp. They knew who he was and thought they knew what he stood for. He had never been a part of the zealous faction of his government that had invaded Earth, and he certainly never condoned the slaughter of these people, ofanypeople. All of this had been done behind the king’s back. All in the name of “saving the race.”

His people were warriors. Unfortunately, in their blood frenzy, most of those who had come to Earth in the beginning had forgotten that honor had to be met in battle. No matter what a superior officer ordered. There was no honor in killing women and children. The madmen that had started this had brought tens of thousands of his homeland’s warriors, and Kahn doubted that there was a single one left who had not forsaken his honor for the kill.

Now, he had to clean up the mess. And that was proving as difficult as he expected. These people had lived in terror for almost three years. His job now was to round up every last warrior and get the hell off this planet. Some of them had heeded the return call, but more than half of them had not. They had chosen to continue their “search” for Earth women to bear children who could be raised to fight in the stead of homeland warriors. Gothe’mar then could fight wars without risking the lives of their people, thus expanding their empire. The notion was not honorable. It was disturbing that so many warriors had gone along with it.

In truth, Kahn suspected most of them simply enjoyed the violence. Such was the nature of his people. It was why they were taught to control their baser instincts from the time they were able to learn higher skills, even before they were of schooling age. Extreme emotion had no place in Gothe’maran society.

Now, it was taking all his control to keep from savagely killing every rebel warrior he came across. They had shamed him. They had shamed his people. And they would pay for every drop of blood they had shed.

Especially that of his woman’s family.

True, he would not have been able to claim her had her husband been alive, but he would gladly have let her go if it would have meant she would not have been tormented by the loss. He doubted he would ever forget her cries of anguish as she knelt over her baby. Still, now he felt only overwhelming joy. His soul had found its mate. This time he would not let her go.

He stood there watching her as she was overcome by thetol’sun-- the silent light. Her hair and skin were as pale as the rays of sunshine on this light-filled world. Slight of form, she still had lush curves that he could discern through her clothes. He itched to remove the offending garments to see the body of his mate.

She found him just as she gave in to the vertigo caused by the passive weapon. As he watched her slump to the ground and felt her acceptance of him, he thought that maybe, just maybe, he could claim her without causing her more grief. Because he knew there was no way he could let her go now that he had found her again. She was his, and honor, as well as his every instinct, demanded he claim and protect his mate at all costs.

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