Everlasting

by Iris Johansen

  "Guards can be bribed and palace guards aren't nearly as uncorruptible as your brother would like to think."

  "A bribe takes time," Kira said skeptically. "The last time we broke her out of prison it took three weeks for Clancy and me to find a susceptible guard and persuade him it would be safe to take a bribe. You're only allowing yourself a little over twenty-four hours."

  "I'll manage." He didn't look at her as he shrugged out of his suede jacket and tossed it next to her suit jacket on the couch. "Trust me."

  "You seem to be saying that quite a bit lately,' she said with a sigh. "I don't have a great deal of choice, do I?"

  "You won't be sorry." He smiled. "Now I think you had better put on your shoes again and take me to see Marna. It would be a good idea to let her know what's in the wind so she can be prepared."

  "I thought we'd go later and have dinner with her."

  He shook his head. Karpathan and Stefan will assume we'll want to have dinner alone. We're lov­ers, remember?"

  How could she forget? All he had to do was look at her and she remembered how his mouth had felt on her . . . "All right," she said quickly as she walked to where she'd kicked off her high-heeled shoes beside the couch. "I'd forgotten." She slipped them on and gave her hair a cursory pat. "I'm ready."

  "Not quite." He walked toward her. "We've been alone in this suite for almost an hour, and we're supposed to be unable to keep our hands off each other. You look much too proper." She didn't feel at all proper. Her heart was beat-ing so fast she expected it to leap out of her breast at any moment. "Really?"

  He nodded slowly. "Really. Since we're going to be on public display, we should opt for authentic­ity." He took her in his arms. She hadn't thought her heart could race any faster, but she was wrong. "1 told you I didn't like to do anything unless I could concentrate my entire attention on it," he said. His fingers tangled in her hair and he gently tugged her head back. "Open your mouth, love." His tongue moved very delicately at first, slowly exploring the smoothness of her teeth and the dark cavity of her inner cheek, toying teasingly with her tongue. Then, with a sound that was a half-growl deep in his throat, the delicacy was gone. His tongue was spear-hard and his hands were hot and restless, running up and down her spine as if he couldn't touch enough of her. A low, keening cry trembled in her throat as she arched into his body, her mouth opening wider to take more of him. His tongue was moving rhythmi­cally, hotly, and his hands slid down to cup her buttocks and lift her into the hollow of his hips.

  Arousal. Stark, hungry, shocking. She gasped and pressed herself closer with a little incoherent murmur.

  Then, suddenly, Zack was stepping back, his chest moving heavily with the harshness of his breathing. He looked down at her flushed cheeks and bruised lips. "That's better," he said thickly. "But not quite good enough."

  "No?" she asked dazedly.

  His hands were quickly unbuttoning the pearl buttons of her silk blouse and drawing the mate­rial away from her breasts. He unfastened the front opening of her bra. "Stand still, love. It will only be

  a moment."

  Then his mouth was enveloping her nipple and suckling gently. His hand framed the swollen mound, pumping rhythmically as his teeth pulled and his tongue soothed.

  Stand still, he had told her. She couldn't have moved if she had tried. She couldn't do anything but look down at his dark head bent over her breast and watch as his lips and tongue moved on her flesh and drove her to the edge of insanity. Her breasts were lifting and falling as if she were run­ning and she had to open her mouth wide to get air to her oxygen-starved lungs. Every pulling tug, every teasing brush of his tongue seemed to be connected to a burning wire which led to the apex of her thighs.

  Then his head was lifting, his eyes, dark and wild and brilliant, staring into her own. "I think that should do it." His voice was hoarse and strained. "If I look like you do, there won't be any doubt about what we've been doing." His hands were trembling slightly as he fastened her bra and then buttoned her blouse. "Come on. Let's get out of here or we'll never get to see Marna today." His hand was beneath her elbow, propelling her toward the door.

  Her knees felt like warm butter and she wasn't sure they'd support her. "Your methods are a little drastic. Was all that really necessary?"

  He opened the door. "No, the kiss alone probably would have been sufficient to create the effect we needed for our audience." His eyes dropped com­pulsively to her full breasts pushing against the silk blouse. They were still swollen and taut and became even more so under his burning appraisal. "The rest was for me. I wanted to see you. I was hungry again. I think I'll always be hungry now. When we were in the throne room, all I could think of was how much I needed to have you on my lap as you were this morning, half-naked and wanting me, making those soft little sounds that—" He broke off, took a deep breath, and then let it out very slowly. "Later." Then he closed the door behind them and nudged her gently forward into the highly polished oak hallway. "I think it would be a good idea if you led the way, Kira. I appear to have lost my sense of direction at the moment."

  The two armed guards standing before the dou­ble doors of Mama's suite were garbed in the elabo­rate dark blue dress uniforms of the Tamrovian army and reminded Zack vaguely of stage extras he'd seen in an operetta he'd attended in Paris.

  They failed to challenge Kira as she opened the door and gave Zack no more than a passing glance.

  "Not exactly razor-sharp security," Zack mur­mured to Kira as he followed her into the elegant suite and closed the door. "This may be easier than I thought."

  "Stefan lets me come and go as I please," Kira said. "And everyone in the palace will have been told about you by now." The door opposite the sit­ting room opened and she was suddenly running toward the tall woman dressed in black who stood quietly in the doorway. "Mama!"

  Kira was immediately folded in the woman's strong arms, her diminutive frame appearing even slighter in contrast with Marna Debuk's massive build. Zack hadn't remembered her as being that tall. The Gypsy towered over six feet and vaguely resembled a lady wrestler. The features of her face were harsh and blunt and her dark, shining hair was clubbed just below her ears. That impassive face didn't look any different from the way he I remembered it over fifteen years ago. Her black eyes were just as snapping bright, her face as inscrutable and ageless as the day he'd first seen her when he was a boy of nineteen.

  Her arms were hugging Kira with the fierce maternal affection of a grizzly, but her eyes met Zack's over Kira's head. "You came."

  He smiled faintly. "You knew I would."

  "Yes. I knew." She gave Kira one final embrace and slowly released her. "It is done?"

  "No."

  Mama's expression sharpened. "Why not?"

  "Because I am not a chitka," he said softly.

  Her face clouded with anger. "I wanted it d—" She broke off and then gave a deep, booming laugh. "No, you are not a chitka," she said, shak­ing her head. "You never were, Zack. Though in this case I wish you had been. It would have been easier for me."

  "And for me too. But the easy way is not always he best way."

  Kira was looking from one to the other with exas­peration. "I'm still in the room, you know," she said pointedly. "I have the distinct feeling that I've just become invisible."

  "Go sit down, Kira," Marna said, not looking at her. "I must talk to Zack for a minute. We have

  things to discuss."

  Kira turned obediently away and then suddenly whirled back to face them. "The hell I will. I'm not an infant to be sent out to play while adults talk."

  Mama's eyes widened in surprise and then dark-

  e ned with a touch of sadness. "It has already begun then."

  "Oh, Marna, I'm sorry," Kira said, instantly con­trite. "I didn't mean to snap. It's just that I don't understand any of this, and both you and Zack are treating me like a child."

  "All right, stay," Marna said with a shrug. "It will make no difference." She faced Zack, he
r jaw set a trifle belligerently. "You accept the mondava?"

  "I accept it," Zack said quietly. "With all my heart."

  The belligerence suddenly faded, replaced by weariness. "That goes without saying. It has to be with all your heart or there is no mondava." She turned away. "It must be done as quickly as possi­ble. I'm finding this very difficult."

  "Tonight," Zack said.

  Her face took on a sudden fierceness. "No! You've had your chance. You can wait now until we can do it properly and with all due ceremony."

  Zack frowned. "The hell I will. We don't even know when that will be and I'm already going crazy."

  There was the slightest hint of malicious plea­sure in Mama's smile. "How unfortunate. Then you'll just have to arrange matters so the ceremony can take place quite soon, won't you?"

  Zack muttered a low oath under his breath. "Has it slipped your memory that right now we have to concentrate on your escape from Tamrovia?"

  "I thought you'd both forgotten," Kira said caus­tically. "You won't mind if I interrupt this cryptic conversation to remind you that we came here to inform Marna we're planning on getting her out of here tomorrow?"

  Mama's gaze moved to Zack's face. "How?"

  "Tomorrow night there will be a reception at the palace and people will be coming and going con­stantly. Your guards will be bribed to allow you to be smuggled out of here and through Belajo to the woods south of the city. A helicopter will be waiting there. Kira and I will join you as soon as we can get away from the reception. Then well take off. By dawn we should have crossed the border into Switzerland." He turned to Kira. "Are the grounds to the rear of the palace as well guarded as the main gate?"

  "Yes," she said thoughtfully. "But you won't have to take her out either the back or the front." Her eyes met Mama's and she smiled. "There's another way."

  Zack's brows lifted. "A flying carpet."

  She grinned. "Better. A secret passage in my apartment that leads underneath the grounds and the main gate and into a cave in the woods. All you have to do is arrange to have a car standing by out

  of sight of the palace."

  "A secret passage," Zack repeated, a little smile tugging at his lips. "I should have known. What else could I expect in a situation like this? Gypsies, palaces, and Balkan intrigue. It fits right in. I won­der why I even bothered to formulate an efficient plan."

  "It is efficient," Marna said slowly. "Just what I would have expected of you, Zack. I will make only one alteration."

  Zack frowned. "Alteration?"

  "The helicopter pilot will put us down in a clear­ing that I will designate, about eighty miles from here. He will be ordered to return in twenty-four

  hours." She smiled calmly. "And then he will fly us to Switzerland."

  "No!" Zack said. "It's too risky. The entire coun-tryside may be crawling with—"

  Marna held up her hand to stop him. "It is the only way I will go."

  "Marna, please," Kira pleaded. "I don't know what this is all about, but if Zack thinks it's too dangerous, then I believe you should do as he asks."

  A curious smile tugged at Mama's lips. "You trust him?"

  Kira met her eyes steadily. "I trust him."

  "Good," Marna said. "I trust him, too, but we'll still follow my plan and not his." She patted Kira's cheek gently. "Give in to me in this, little one. It is for the best, I promise you. For this last time, let me be the one to make things as they should be for you."

  This last time. The words were weighted with a strange sadness that made Kira vaguely uneasy. "Marna. . ." She stared at her helplessly. Then she turned to Zack, unconsciously squaring her shoul­ders. "Zack, I think we should do as she wishes. Can't you find some way to make it safe for her? It's only for one night and—"

  "All right." The quiet assent surprised her so much that she broke off in mid-sentence. Where she had expected to find resistance, she now found only gentleness and understanding. "Don't look so astounded, love. I know how you feel about Marna." He turned away. "I'll get to work right away rearranging my plans." His gaze met Mama's across the room. "I guess this means you're keep­ing Kira with you tonight?"

  Marna nodded. "Yes. We will have dinner together and talk of the old days and remember. I will send her back to you tomorrow afternoon."

  A crooked smile slanted his lips. "I suppose it wouldn't do any good to remind you that Kar-pathan will consider it a little strange for me to let her leave tonight, when we've put out the story we're a very hot item?"

  "Has Karpathan seen you together?"

  Zack nodded. "Yes."

  Marna smiled faintly. "Then there is no problem.

  Karpathan is not a chitka either. He has eyes to see what is there and many things not so plain." She paused. "He came to visit me a few times while you were gone."

  "He did?" Kira asked, startled. "Why?"

  Marna shrugged. "Who knows? He asked no questions. He merely sat and chatted and smiled. He knows I do not trust him. Perhaps he thought to work his magic on me as he does on Stefan."

  "Work his magic," Zack repeated thoughtfully. "A curious phrase. Are you crediting him with Rasputin-like powers?"

  "I do not know. There are men who are not easy to read," Marna said. "Some men are meant to con­trol the winds and others are meant to be buffeted by them." She looked directly at Zack. "Which do you. think is Karpathan's destiny?"

  "That's a good question, "'Zack said dryly. "Per­haps I'll invite him to have dinner with me. At least it would be stimulating and I'm evidently to be deprived of what I really want."

  "Only temporarily." Mama's sudden smile lit her usually impassive face with warmth. "I thank you for giving me this," she said haltingly. "I can

  already feel your power. You could have won if you'd cared to do battle."

  He shook his head. "Then I truly would have lost. We're not in competition, Marna. I'd be an ungrate­ful bastard if I didn't realize all I owe you." His eyes

  lingered for a moment on Kira's bemused face. "Stay with her," he said softly. "Love her, Kira, there's no one who deserves it more."

  Kira laughed a little shakily. "I know. I'm just wondering how the devil you do. A few months out of a lifetime fifteen years ago and you're suddenly blood relatives or something."

  Zack grinned. "Perhaps you're not far off the mark. The American Indian is supposed to have arrived in North America by crossing the Bering Strait in the dawn of history. Maybe my ancestors and Marna's wandered across Europe and Asia together at one point in time."

  Marna looked at him in surprise. "But why are you laughing? That's exactly what happened."

  Zack blinked and then shook his head resign­edly. "You didn't tell me.".

  "I do not tell anyone everything," she said. "Life would not be nearly as interesting."

  "Just a good deal simpler," Zack murmured. He opened the door. "Enjoy your evening, ladies. Ill see you tomorrow, Kira."

  Kira watched the door close behind him with an odd feeling of loneliness.

  "Kira."

  Marna's voice was soft and so was her expression when Kira turned to face her. "It's only one night, not forever."

  Kira smiled mistily. "I don't know what's going on. I don't know what's happening to me."

  "You know."

  Kira looked into her eyes. "I love him? How could I? I don't even know him."

  Marna shrugged. "You know him. He is the other half of you. When the two pieces come together there is no uncertainty. Accept it."

  "Marna ..." Kira suddenly came back into her arms. "I've never felt like this before. Help me."

  Marna's hand was gently stroking her hair. "I have helped you. Now you must help me."

  Kira's head lifted swiftly. "How?"

  "Forget him. Forget him for this one night and be my child again."

  Kira gazed at her for a long moment and then slowly nodded. "If that is what you want."

  "That is what I want." Mama gave her a quick, affectionate hug and then let her go. She
took Kira's hand and drew her over to the couch, pushed her down on the cushioned softness, and sat down beside her. Then she took her hand again with a companionableness that bridged all the years. "Do you know what I first remember about you? You were only a few months old when I came to the palace, and I was frightened, and lonely for my people. You were sleeping when they brought you to me. Then you opened your eyes and I knew I'd never be lonely again. I knew that as long as I had you to love and care for, there would never be loneliness or sadness or any battle I could not win."

  Kira felt an aching tightness in her throat. "We didn't win all the battles, Marna, but those we did win were won because you were there with me."

  "Talk to me," Marna said softly. "Remember with me."

  Kira hesitated, trying to grasp just what it was Marna needed. Then, with absolute certainty, she knew. It was the time for gathering memories and dreams of childhood so they could be stored lov­ingly away to make room for new dreams, new visions. Marna wanted to be named guardian of those memories because she was afraid she'd have no place in the new dream. It wasn't true, but Kira knew that words would never convince Marna. She would have to be shown. In the meantime, she would give Marna what she asked. She settled herself more comforta­bly on the couch, her fingers tightening on the hand of her old friend. "I think one of my very best memories is of the first time you took me to meet your people. I couldn't have been more than three or four, and I was so excited. It was spring and the entire Gypsy camp was bathed in sunlight. The horses' coats were gleaming and the paint on the caravans was so bright it hurt my eyes to look at them. Everyone was laughing and glad to see you. I felt a little shy among all those strangers, but you were holding my hand and I was so proud to be with you. I knew there was nothing to be fright­ened of as long as ..."

  For many hours they wove tapestries of memo­ries and love and togetherness. The light in the room mellowed and then faded to an intimate dusk as they spoke and remembered and prepared the way for the new harvest to come.

  Five

  Stefan towered head and shoulders above the small coterie surrounding him. His broad-shouldered form looked very impressive in the medal-bedecked blue uniform and his silver-threaded auburn hair shone as he stood under the magnificent crystal chandelier in the center of the ballroom. He was laughing, his face handsome.