Although indoor plumbing had been installed at some point, it was primitive. However, it had the virtue of rarely failing and required no power other than your own in order to work. All that was required was to obtain a bucket of water from the well via the hand pump by the door and then use it to flush the stool into the septic pool below.

I'd often heard tales of remarkable power sources that kept lights burning and wheels turning and sent ships flying through space, but the denizens of my planet considered them abhorrent, as well as damaging to the environment, and had left them behind when they migrated from Earth to establish the original colony. I myself found it peculiar that such conveniences could be considered abhorrent, while the concept of slavery was not. I suppose that having slaves to attend to such mundane matters made it all possible, but, in my opinion, slavery was wrong in and of itself. That slaves didn't exist on most other worlds was a well-known fact, but here on the planet Utopia, well, let's just say that no one was willing to give an inch when it came to relinquishing property.

I had never traveled offworld and, while some aliens did visit us from time to time, Utopia didn't have what you'd call a thriving tourist industry. We were too *38 *12*.

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backward for most people; adhering to an old standard of ways that some people might have found quaint, though primitive, and so, for the most part, very few were able to see any attraction. Utopia didn't produce any products that weren't readily available on a hundred other worlds, though we did produce some very fine pottery. Anything remotely resembling modern technology had to be obtained offworld-which included anything but the most rudimentary implements such as cookware, farming tools, as well as, I'm sorry to say, the occasional sword-but interplanetary trade wasn't terribly common, and technological marvels tended to be shunned.

There was much more excitement to be had on other worlds that had no qualms about using their technological abilities to the maximum extent, though we did receive the occasional visit from beings who longed for a more simple and peaceful existence-which was part of the reason for our colony to begin with. Space travel was remarkable in and of itself, and even in our culture we knew it existed, for it was as a result of such marvels that we had been able to colonize this planet with any degree of success.

Ironically, there were still some who refused to believe in such things, but I had seen enough to know it was true even before I'd met Leo; in fact, the chosen ones existed solely because of those other worlds.

We witches were hybrids-the result of the mating of women skilled in the ways of herbal medicine with alien beings who possessed seemingly magical powers- though those matings had occurred many generations in the past. I wasn't sure how many other witches were *39 *12*.

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Cheryl Brooks out there at any given time, or exactly how our powers varied. The sisterhood was scattered far and wide, and rarely trespassed into each other's domains.

Leo, himself, was more living proof that those other worlds existed. I had seen species even stranger than Leo-but none that were more attractive. Just watching him walk back into the room made me fight to keep from gasping aloud. Everything about him made you want to sit and stare at him, even the way he moved, and this was especially true now that he wasn't wearing a stitch of clothing.

He seemed to possess some remarkable recuperative powers, as well. When I'd suggested to Rafe that he return for him in a month, I'd been skeptical because, at the time, I hadn't been certain that Leo would even survive, let alone improve so quickly. Perhaps what I'd sensed when I felt his life force waning was simply his way of shutting down in order to heal himself. It wasn't the first instance I'd encountered of a species that was able to do that, so I had no reason not to believe it.

Of course, if every species were capable of selfhealing, I'd be out of a job-which, the more I thought about it, might not be such a bad thing, because then I would be free to do something different with my life.

Perhaps I could simply be a normal person, as opposed to one of the chosen.

But I was one of the chosen, and, as such, had certain duties to perform. With that in mind, I busied myself with brewing a pot of alowa bark tea, which would not only help him to rest, but would also aid his body in fighting infection.

My intentions were good-and I'll admit I had made *40 *12*.

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it fairly strong-but if his wrinkled nose was any indication, he didn't care for it.

"What's the matter?" I asked. "Don't like the taste?"

"It is...bitter," he replied, stifling a sneeze.

"Some people just can't take their medicine," I teased, though without much feeling. "I'll put some spearmint in it the next time." Taking the cup from him with a forced smile, I realized I wasn't feeling particularly chipper myself. Perhaps I needed to take some of my own medicine. After adding some powdered stevia root, I handed it back to him. "Try it now."

Taking a cautious sip, he nodded his limited approval before going back to his pallet by the fire to drink it. I went on preparing another tisane when, after a bit, I realized that he was simply lying there, watching me.

"What are you looking at?" I asked finally.

"You," he replied. "What do you do here all alone?"

"Just things," I said, somewhat defensively. "Taking care of my animals and anyone else who comes to me for help. In summer, I keep pretty busy planting and gathering the herbs I need for healing-and food to eat, of course. It's much...quieter in winter. I read a lot."

I, for one, welcomed the restful time of winter, when the simple chores of keeping myself warm and fed were what occupied most of my time-the cozy warmth of a wood fire and hot food had a regenerative effect, preparing me for the hard work of the warmer months.

I loved studying the ancient lore in the leather-bound volumes that lined the shelves of my cottage. Some revealed medical techniques that dated back to old Earth, and I longed for a day when my skills would be truly challenged.

*41 *12*.

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Cheryl Brooks I wondered briefly if the kind of technique to which Leo seemed to respond so well would be applicable to the males of other species, but I couldn't quite see myself trying it out. I struggled unsuccessfully to get my mind off his unique attributes and could only be grateful that he couldn't read my mind as well as Desdemona.

"You are alone much of the time, then?"

I nodded. "Mostly. I like it that way." Or I had, until recently.

"Perhaps you should buy a slave," he remarked, his lips curling into a smile. "Then you would not be so alone."

Ignoring the implication that I should buy this particular slave for myself, I said, "It takes money to buy a slave, Leo, and, unfortunately, I rarely get paid in currency. I'd have to trade something, and the only thing I have that might be worth the price of a slave is my horse, but since I don't truly own her, I can never sell her, either."

He gazed at me with those golden eyes as if he would peer into my soul. "Perhaps you prefer to be alone," he observed. "I am here with you now, and yet you continue to work and to stare into the fire as though I were not."

"I'm just thinking, Leo!" I sputtered, still a bit on the defensive. "I'm not trying to be antisocial!"

"But I believe you are."

"No, I'm not!" I insisted. "Why would you think that?"

"I am here on my bed before the fire, wishing very much to mate with you, and yet you pretend that I am not here."

"Hey, now!" I protested. "I spent a very cold morning looking for you, pulling you out of a snowdrift, and then sat here with you for hours! I can't help *42 *13*.

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it if you slept through it! I combed your hair, kept you warm, put ointment on your back-all those things!

I'm not pretending you aren't here! Believe me, you've kept me busy all day!"

He made no further comment, but simply yawned and stretched before lying back to lounge by the fire, the flickering light from the flames illuminating his body and casting warm highlights on his tawny hair. But though he seemed to relax, his gaze never wavered. I went on with my various chores, but I could feel his eyes upon me, no matter where I was, or what I was doing. I tried not to look at him, and in that respect, I suppose he was right-I was avoiding him. He'd been right about other things, too, for I was alone much of the time-and usually preferred it so-but I knew that if I let him, Leo could become too much a part of my life, and then, just when I knew I wouldn't ever want to part with him, Rafe would come to take him back.

Still, Leo was nothing if not persistent, and, finally, I couldn't take it anymore.

"Besides," I went on, snappishly, "I prefer to 'mate'

with people I know. You're a...stranger to me."

"No, I am not," he disagreed. "You know me very well. But you are afraid."

"Afraid?" I echoed. "I wouldn't say that. You aren't that scary! And I don't know you well at all!" I had been fairly intimate with him, but it wasn't my fault he'd sprung the cursed thing on me and drugged me with it.

It was almost as if he had cast a spell on me, causing me to crave him. I'd managed to justify it that much, for I'd never done such a thing with anyone before-and certainly not with someone I was supposed to be healing!

*43 *13*.

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Cheryl Brooks And, yes, I'd gone in search of him, but not only because I'd wanted him back. When you are treating someone, there's a certain obligation not to misplace them in the process.

"I did not say that you were afraid of me," he said.

"You have other fears."

"And you don't know as much as you think you do,"

I countered.

"You think not?" he asked with a wry smile. "I have seen, and I have learned." For some reason, the way he said it took the smugness out of his remarks-it was simply a fact, not a boast.

"What am I afraid of, then?" I asked. "Tell me."

"You are afraid of finding something you want more than this life you lead, and that it will make you feel discontented when you do find it."

It was almost as if he had been reading my mind, or had been engaged in some sort of a cat-to-cat mental exchange with Desdemona. Of course he, of all people, should know a thing or two about how it felt to be discontented. The odd thing was that, despite his status as a slave and his unsuccessful escape attempt, he seemed to be the most contented man I'd ever met. Of course, all the purring he was doing might have had something to do with why I felt that way.

The trouble was, his purring was much louder than that of your typical house cat, and, as such, was difficult to ignore. He wasn't nagging at me, precisely, but was simply refusing to lie there and be ignored. I busied myself by chopping up meat and vegetables for a stew, turning my back to him, and doing my best to drown out *44 *13*.

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his purring with the sound of my knife pounding on the wooden board.

I was so intent on making noise that I didn't notice when his purring ceased, enabling him to steal silently across the room to come up behind me, unannounced and unnoticed. Startling me just a bit as he threaded his arms around my waist, he leaned down to lick at my ear, biting it gently, sending thrills of intense desire flying over my skin, nearly making my hair stand on end.

Fortunately, I was finished making the stew and had only to hang the pot over the fireplace, or we wouldn't have gotten anything to eat that night, because Leo's scent, or aura, or presence-or whatever it was about him which made him so irresistible-threatened to overcome me. He wasn't holding anything back or being coy about it. He wanted to mate, as he put it, and it was becoming perfectly obvious that he wasn't going to leave me be until he did just that.

"If this is your way of trying to send me into another stupor so you can escape again," I muttered as I hung the stew pot above the flames, "you can forget about me coming to your rescue. I've pulled you out of a snowdrift for the last time."

"I will not attempt to escape again," he said, with a slow, sensuous sweep of his tongue on my neck. "Now that I know I have time to be with you, I will stay to-"

he paused, letting out a long, loud purr "-enjoy it."

The feel of his hot, wet tongue on my skin sent waves of desire flaming down into the depths of my body to boil there until I simply gave up, leaning back into him, feeling the warmth of his body against my back, letting it envelop me with the need for him.

*45 *13*.

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