Chapter 4 - Ransom

And somehow her father thought she was nothing but a puppet. I mirrored her stance as I studied the woman who held my future in her petite hands.

Without her high heels, she was average height, average build, a little curvier than I preferred my women, but, fuck, were all her curves were in the right places. Her skin, its honey brown tone at odds with the seemingly almost new-baby surface, had my fingers itching to trace it. Jet black hair and almost silver-gray eyes completed the picture.

There wasn't too much resemblance between her and her parents, though. Other than height and mother's and daughter's hair color, there wasn't too much that had been passed down from the older generation. All for the better, in my opinion.

She made a noise deep in her throat, pulling my attention back to her face.

We'll see who is playing by whose rules, sweetheart.

She opened her mouth.

I held up a hand. "You can save your breath, Kiema. Your man down at the patrol desk gave me the lay of the land. But here's the thing: You can't afford to send me home without healing me."

Her nose wrinkled. "And why do you think that is?"

"Because if I'm not healed by the end of these ten days, then your parents lose out on quite a bounty."

She snorted, the sound almost dainty and ladylike. "What makes you think I care about that?"

Was she stupid? "One, because without them, you have nothing. Two, your whole world revolves around their whims. I saw that fortress you live in. Must be nice having the world at your fingertips. And three, not that it matters, but I'm sure you love your parents and don't want to see anything bad happen to them."

Her lovely face went stony for a couple moments. If I looked hard enough, I could probably see steam billowing from her ears. It was nice being right in my assessment of my opponent.

Score another one for turning Father's abandonment to my advantage.

"Fine. Most of the rules can go. Except for two of them." She stopped talking, raised an eyebrow.

"I'm open to listening to these rules. I'll tell you if they will or won't work."

She glared at me.

I bit back the smile that wanted to tug at my mouth.

"One, you really do have to tell me everything about you. Full medical, magical, and family history. I need to know if anything slipped by the pre-screen. There really are things I can't heal."

"I can agree to that. Next."

"Two, don't touch me. Ever. You touch me without my consent, this is done. Over. And you'll have no one to blame but yourself."

"What could be the possible legitimate reason for that rule?" Being told I couldn't touch her skin had me gritting my teeth and my fingers clenching into fists.

Kiema stared at me, head cocked to one side.

I waited.

She tipped her head to the other side. She looked like she was searching for something. "You really don't know, do you?"

I sighed. "Know what, princess?" I hated playing games.

Her nose wrinkled at the pet name. Her expression cleared quickly. "How my magic works. What will actually happen while we're stuck here for ten days together."

"I bare my soul to you, you decide if you want to heal more or not, which in this case you do heal me, then wham, bam, done and done."

She laughed, low and throaty. It pulled at my belly, tightened my groin. Such a sexual sound shouldn't come from someone so uptight I couldn't even touch her skin.

"Not quite, Seeker." She grabbed her hair up near the top of her head, wrapped it in one of those ties women, especially my sisters, seemed to have in unlimited supply. It sat like a messy flower sprouting from her skull.

"Explain it to me then."

She turned and walked to the kitchen.

I followed after her, a little bemused. Women don't walk away from me, not until I'm ready for them to, anyways.

Kiema got a glass from the cabinet and filled it with water. Not taking a drink, she turned and leaned her hips against the counter. She met my gaze head on.

"Once our skin makes contact, my spirit will merge with yours. I won't have a choice. And once I'm merged with your spirit, I will be compelled to heal you."

She raised a finger in the air as I opened my mouth.

I glared at her.

She returned my smug smile.

Touché.

"And that's if I can figure out what is wrong. If I can't figure out what's wrong, you don't get healed. Or I could send magic to areas that aren't actually in dysfunction and end up making your illness worse or make you sick with something else."

She made air quotes. "The ‘baring your soul' portion of this ritual helps me find what parts of you are actually in need of healing. No one will know you more intimately than me. That's why you can't touch me. I do the touching. Only. Ever."

What the fuck?

Kiema toasted me with her water glass. Tipping it back, she drained it all in one go.

"What the fuck?" I yelled. "No one fucking told me that you would have to go deep diving in my brain, emotions, and soul for this to fucking work!" I grabbed my hair with my hands, pulling it hard enough to sting my scalp.

She quirked an eyebrow. "Now you understand why you're not able to talk about the ritual with anyone. Not your best friends, not your lovers, not your dog. Not your diary. No one." She ran herself another glass of water.

"What happens to you?" I asked her.

Water splashed as her hand shook for a second. Cupping the glass with both hands, she turned back around to look at me. Her eyes were a little darker. "Don't worry about that. It doesn't concern you and won't impact my ability to heal you. As long as it's something I can heal."

"Why won't you tell me?"

"Because this doesn't work that way. You don't like it, there's the door. We haven't started. You're free to leave with full forfeiture."

I tipped my head back and let loose the scream that had been building all fucking day. I'd been made to believe this was going to be easy. A little here's my history, here's my cock, thanks for the healing, see you never, kind of thing. Not go tripping down memory lane with a complete stranger I didn't even really like in the hopes that she would be able to find that something special she needed in order to heal me.

I turned back to her. "Have you ever failed to heal someone?"

"Yes. His...illness...was added to my no-go list. But he's the only one in the twenty-five years I've been doing this."

That's something, at least.

The very fucking least!

"Why did your parents negotiate for ten days?" Kiema asked me, interrupting my line of thought.

"Because we didn't want to take the chance that this wouldn't work." I studied her once more.

Leaning against the counter like she didn't have a care in the world, I didn't know if I could do what she asked. Let her in. Let her rummage around in my brain and heart.

With a sinking feeling, I shook my head.

I couldn't do it.

No one got that close.

Not anymore.