“Ofcourse.” A slow, cruel smile spread over Betina’s face. “You are still theDefiled One, therefore you must makethe sacrifice. Whether it is your own pain you offer or another’s, it mattersnot but the stroke must come from your hand. The Goddess demands it.”

“I…butI can’t.” Trin’s mouth was so dry shecould barely speak. She had been prepared to lop off her own finger or ear orpoke out her own eye but the idea of doing such violence to Thrace turned her stomach.

“Youmust,” Betina declared. “It appears you have chosen to give a finger.” Shenodded at the cleaver Trin was still holding. “Prepare his hands.”

Thepriestess holding the choke-chain around Thrace’s throat reached out but hehad already placed his large hands on the small pedestal where the otherinstruments of sacrifice were laid.

“Doit,” he said quietly. “Do it, Mistress.”

Trinlooked wildly at him. “I can’t hurt you like that—I won’t do it!”

Heleaned forward, looking at her intently.

“It’sall right, baby,” he said softly, for her ears alone. “If this is what theywant in order to clear your name, then do it. I want you to.”

“No!”Trin looked down at the cleaver clutched tight in her sweaty palm. Oh Goddess,why was she still holding the awful thing? She dropped it quickly, as though ithad burned her and it fell with a ringing clatter upon the stone floor. “No, Ican’t hurt you like that,” she said in a louder voice.

“It’sthe only way,” he insisted.

“No.”Trin shook her head and backed away. “I can’t do it. Not when I…” She looked athim longingly. “Not when I still love you,” she said softly.

Itsounded like the entire group of assembled priestesses had drawn in a breath atonce. Betina looked enraged and her mother looked scandalized.

“Howdare you!” the high priestess shrieked.“How dare you speak words of sacrilege and shame here in the presence of theGoddess—in the very inner sanctum of her temple? How dare you love a male?”

Butneither Trin nor Thracewas looking at her.

“Ilove you too, baby” Thracesaid softly. “I never stopped. Please leave this place and come with me now. Iswear I’ll devote the rest of my life to making you happy.”

“Therest of your life won’t be very long—I can promise you that, male.”

SuddenlyBetina was right behind him. In one motion she drew the long, jeweled daggerfrom her flowing sleeve and with her other hand, she grasped Thrace by his thick, black hair.

“No!”Trin gasped.

* * * * *

Thrace wasabout to die and he knew it.

Hewould have surged to his feet and fought his way free—even with the choke chainand the manacles he was certain he could have done it—but for the razor sharpblade pressed against his throat. The priestess behind him held the advantage.One swipe of the dagger would sever all the blood vessels in histhroat—possibly even cut off his head. There was nothing he could do but holdstill and look at Trin.

Shewas crying openly now, tears running down her face as she watched the highpriestess threaten him. More than anything else, her tears made Thracecrazy. He wanted to take her in his arms and comfort her, wanted to kiss themaway and promise her she would never cry again.

Butmostly he wanted to kill the high priestess who was holding him for puttingthose tears in Trin’s lovely dark eyes in the first place. Trin was his female,to love and cherish and protect. He needed to keep her safe and happy and thisbitch had broken her inside, filling her head with guilt and her heart withdoubt. Making her hate herself simply for loving him.

Andnow she was going to kill him right in front of Trin. He didn’t want to die buteven more than that, he didn’t want Trin to watch him die and think it was allher fault.

“I love you,” hemouthed at her, afraid that if he spoke the words out loud the priestess wouldslice his throat immediately. “Trin, Ilove you so much!”

“Please…”Trin begged, looking at the priestess. “Please let him go and don’t hurt him.I’ll give the Goddess whatever she wants—I’ll cut off my whole hand and pokeout both eyes. But just please, don’t kill him!”

“Toolate for that, Defiled One.” A cruel, triumphant smile was playing overBetina’s thin lips. “The Goddess has chosen her sacrifice and it is thismale—the same male that defiled you in the first place. He must die for what hehas done that his blood may feed her hunger for justice.”

Shestarted to draw the blade across Thrace’s throat and he felt thesharp kiss of the cold steel as it bit into his flesh. Already a warm trickleof blood was running down the side of his neck and soon it would all be over…

“Idon’t think so.”

Thevoice belonged to Charlie, who was pushing her way through the assembled lesserpriestesses, a destroyer held in one hand. Thrace cut his eyes to the left andsaw that Becca had the other weapon and was holding it on the two priestesseswho had been guarding them earlier. How had they done it? They must have takenthe opportunity when everyone was looking at him and Trin to catch their guardsby surprise and disarm them.

Howeverit had been accomplished, the prisoners were free and Charlie was pointing thedestroyer right at Betina. She looked supremely confident and comfortable withthe weapon in her hand—almost as if it was an extension of her arm.

“That’sright—just hold it right there,” she said, coming to a halt right besideBetina. “And don’t try anything funny. I’ve been a law enforcer back on my homeplanet for a long time and I know my way around a gun. True, this one’s alittle funny…” She gestured with the wide-mouthed destroyer, nudging the highpriestess in the ribs. “Looks like it could blow a hole the size of a barn doorright through you. But its’ still just a gun and I’m not afraid to use it.”

“I’mnot either.” Becca was turning from side to side, keeping the other priestessesat bay as she made her way to the front of the crowd. Not that any of themseemed to want to try anything, other than the ones she and Charlie haddisarmed. They were watching with impotent frustration but they clearly had ahealthy respect for the weapons which had been taken from them. A wise choice,in Thrace’sopinion. He didn’t know how big a barn door was but it was certainly true thata destroyer could make a sizeable hole in whatever—or whoever—it hit.

“Okay,now step away from Thraceslowly,” Charlie directed.

Betinasnarled at her. “Why should I? I can cut his throat before you can pull thetrigger—I am sure of it!”

“Thatmay well be,” Charlie said steadily. “But if you do that, I’m going to shootfor sure. Ask yourself, hon, are you really ready to die just to make yourpoint?”

“You…youblasphemer!”

Thrace couldfeel the high priestess’s hand shaking and for a moment the blade bit deeperinto his throat, drawing another rivulet of blood. He had a sudden moment ofcertainty—the priestess was crazy and she was going to do it. She was going tokill him even if it meant her own death.

Heheld his breath and commended his soul to the Goddess.

Please, Mother of All Life, if Trin and Iare not to be together in this life then let us meet again in the next…

Then,miraculously, the sharp pain against his throat eased and the high priestessstepped back and away from him.

“Good,that’s good,” Charlie said evenly. “Just keep going and keep your hands where Ican see them. You—drop that chain you’ve got around Thrace’s neck and uncuff him now.”

Abruptlythe steady pressure of the choke chain eased and the priestess who had beenholding it knelt before him to unlock his manacles with shaking hands. Theyfell to the stone floor with a clatter and she scuttled away, as thoughfrightened that Charlie might shoot her even though she had obeyed orders.

Thrace stoodat once and went to Trin. She rushed to meet him and he enfolded her in hisarms, feeling her tremble against him.