She gestured to the closed bedroom door a few feet away.
Curiosity passed over his face and he went to it, resting his hand on the knob. "May I?"
"Yes, of course."
He opened the door. Danith felt a shock of intense sexuality from where she stood and her body reacted. She backed to the farthest corner of the mainspace, considered going into the front grassyard.
Holly turned to her with raised eyebrows. "So?"
"In the middle of the bed. The necklace. Supposedly a HeartGift."
He disappeared into her bedroom. "Hmmm. I think I see it. It has a roseamber heart? With a flaw in the shape of crossed swords? It's difficult to see…"
Danith raised her voice. "Do you think you could take charge of it?" A tendril of hope curled through her. Maybe she could get her bedroom back. Having her innermost sanctuary off limits added to her stress.
Holly popped his head through the open door. "I don't think I'd better touch it. T'Ash is sure to be unhappy with me as it is. If I retrieve his HeartGift from his lady's bedroom—" He shrugged. "There could be a real fight. And as much as I enjoy fighting, not with T'Ash. He has a tendency to take things too seriously, not to mention the odd time or two he went berser—" He snapped his mouth shut.
Danith chewed her lip, wondering how she could get her bedroom back. She sighed at Holly's refusal. "Very well. Could you bring me some clothes please, HollyHeir?"
"Call me Holm. My pleasure," he said, back in the bedroom. A few short minutes later he had a nice selection of her clothes neatly stacked on her settee.
"Underwear?" he asked.
Heat flushed her face. "Third drawer of the bureau."
Holly patted her on her shoulder. "Consider me a brother. T'Ash does—did." He brought back half the contents of her drawer. "I like the bold colors but think you should invest in something a little more sexy than commoncloth cotton for T'Ash."
Danith choked.
"I've always found merchandise from the shop Queen of the East extremely fetching."
She stared at him in disbelief.
A rustle and clink.
Holly spun, whipping his blaser from its holster. Princess ambled in the open front door, bedecked, as was usual now, in one set of ruby beads, three silver chains, a heavier golden one with an amber pendant, and her diamond earclip.
He stared at her in apparent awe. "Now, that is one beautiful cat."
Danith rolled her eyes.
"I'll bet Zanth is positively eaten up with jealousy."
Holly stooped down and trilled his tongue in a mock purr.
Princess jingled to him and allowed him to pet her.
He glanced up at Danith. "We Hollys breed hunting cats, you know. Once you have established yourself, give me a call. We'd like to put you on a retainer as our Animal Healer. Also, I believe you could be of great help in determining the best genetic strains to breed for. A Healer has access to so much information at a DNA level, that your insight would be very useful."
Danith managed a nod.
With one last pat to Princess's head, he stood. "I'll arrange for delivery of a small bedroll. T'Ash had his covered with llamawoolweave, so it will include that. It has been a pleasure, D'Mallow." He held out his hand.
She put her own in his, and he raised it to his lips and kissed the back. It was the first time that had ever happened to her, and Danith suppressed a disappointment that it hadn't been T'Ash who had made the gesture.
"Merry meet," Holly said.
"And merry part."
"And merry meet again. Until later, D'Mallow." He bowed and left, closing the front door behind him.
Danith stared around her. Her home, even her cat, had changed in three days. It staggered her. After a while she went to a tiny closet and unfolded a pretty pale green and shot-silver scarf, placing it over the top of the jewelry chest.
Princess had sniffed the curving, carved legs and wound herself through them. Now she sat looking up at the top.
"No," Danith said firmly. "You can't jump on top of it. You will never make it with the weight of all your jewelry."
Princess mewed a little pleadingly.
"No. You will land on the scarf and go skidding off the cabinet. Then you will be embarrassed and have to pretend you didn't do something foolish. Besides, I'm going to put the scrybowl on top of it. You know how you hate the scrybowl." Princess—when she was Pansy—had dumped the bowl over on herself no less than four times.
Danith hurried to the kitchen, returning to the mainspace with her scrybowl. It was much larger and heavier than the small china bowl it replaced, but it also felt incredibly comforting since it contained her first use of Flair.
Her fingers automatically traced the cloisonne lines. When she set it up and stood back, she found the pale leaves on the bowl matched the scarf. As the creamy yellow background matched her walls. A scarf she had purchased matched a bowl T'Ash had made. It was frightening.
Again and again she ran her hands over the pattern of the bowl, imbuing it with her own lifeforce, hopefully banishing T'Ash's. Hoping they didn't meld instead.
She should call her friends but didn't know what to say. Despite everything, she wasn't sure of her status. What would happen to all her common friends if she became noble? The Clovers were very important to her. She must keep them in her life. She would need the support of friends. She shivered. Her old life was looking better all the time.
A rumbling came against his chest. T'Ash knew it was Zanth's heavy purr. He opened his eyes.
You awake. Me guarded. All fine. Feel good?
T'Ash stretched. He felt great. His energy levels had mostly replenished, no doubt helped on a little by Holm, T'Holly and T'Ivy, damn their hides. He moved carefully, but no hint of hangover, stiffness, or weariness bothered him. He took stock, inside and out. There was a delicate touch that smoothed the way for his healing and strength—D'Holly. She had a light hand with Flair, as light as Danith's would be.
Danith. T'Ash smiled and stretched more, testing his strength. Not complete, but sufficient enough for the Passage. He pushed dread from his mind, and concentrated on the unfamiliar mellowness of his mood. With the dregs of his weariness, his depression had eased, and he almost recaptured the sense of triumph he'd experienced when he'd first realized he'd meet his HeartMate. Hope fizzed through his veins.
Hungry! Skipped breakfast.
"Both of them? Here and at Danith's?"
No lunch, either. No snack. Even sewer rat sounds tasty.
T'Ash shuddered. He sat up and the llamawoolweave cloak slid onto the floor. When he picked it up, his fingers caressed its soft texture, as soft as Princess's fur.
Danith. He'd slept on the bedroll he'd purchased for her. He had broken a promise to her, inadvertently, but she didn't trust him in the first place. To break a promise, no matter how small, would only deepen her distrust. Damn!
"Holly!" he roared.
A full-sized holo blinked on. "Merry meet, T'Ash. I hope you feel well. No need to worry about anything—"
"Stop."
The prerecorded holospell froze. T'Ash narrowed his eyes. Despite Holm's usual lilting tones, the image looked a little strained around the mouth, Holly's expression a trifle tense.
Zanth sniffed. It was barely a sound. Listen to Holly. Good man.
T'Ash turned and glared at his Fam.
Zanth lifted a paw and began to lick it.
T'Ash turned back to the holo. "Go."
"—I set major temporary spellshields to reinforce the regular ones on your Residence. It can't be breached. I also dropped by D'Mallow's—"
"D'Mallow's? Cave of the Dark Goddess. D'Mallow."
"—and told her you were indisposed."
"Meddler. Strolled over to make time with my woman while I was asleep."
"—and ordered a bedroll for her. I didn't retrieve the HeartGift from her bedroom. Nice piece, though, what I could see of it. She looks a little frazzled. Try not to push, T'Ash."
; Holm's gray eyes seemed to focus on T'Ash. "I don't think a Passage will bring what you want, but also don't think you'll heed me, either." The holo man shrugged. "Take care. The vial is on your desk. I left your old ring with D'Mallow. Slipped it in a bowl of stones. Her place is beginning to feel a bit like you—"
"Good."
"—If she finds the ring, and focuses on it, she'll learn a lot, won't she?"
"Oh, Lord and Lady, too much."
"But every little bit helps. My brother, Tinne, is restless—"
T'Ash snorted.
"—and Mama won't be able to keep him here longer than a septhour or two after dinner. He'll be by then for his main gauche. T'Holly sends his regards. Merry meet again." The holo vanished.
Time for food. Zanth didn't wait for T'Ash, rudely opening the door with a Fam Word and loping to the small room they used for dining.
When T'Ash entered the room, Zanth was licking his whiskers, then pressing a lever for a second helping.
T'Ash extended his senses—his cook had not been in that day, Ioho, but had left several meals, both warm and cold, in the no-time pantry. T'Ash reviewed their images and chose a thick bifuth steak, potatoes, a selection of green vegetables, and a large carafe of willem juice. It would prime him for the Passage.
Dessert. I deserve dessert.
"What do you want?"
Mousse. Cocoa mousse. Cook made lots. Too much for just you.
T'Ash frowned. There was no such thing as too much cocoa. He stockpiled it like jewels. It was a luxury that both he and Zanth shared.
Know something.
Zanth's sly tone alerted T'Ash. He raised his brows.
Want big portion of mousse. Bigger than My head.
"You shouldn't ever eat things bigger than your head."
Mousse fluff.
"True."
Know FamWoman has lots of cocoa.
"Does she now?"
Zanth nodded and licked his chops. Bars and drops and covered nuts and fruit, cocoadrink.
T'Ash snapped his fingers, and a large plate of soft cocoa mousse appeared. Zanth plowed into it.
T'Ash sat and summoned his own dinner, then worked his way through it without tasting, planning for the Passage and muttering spells to brace and protect himself.
As he slipped the last spoonful of cocoa mousse into his mouth and let the delicious treat melt on his tongue, Zanth jumped on the table.
T'Ash eyed him.
Me not on table when you eating. You done.
"It's a rule."
Me know rule. You done. When you do Passage?
"In about a septhour."
Me go hunt. Be back by then. You swing wild when Passage.
"Thank you for returning."
Zanth lashed his tail. Don't like. You leave more mousse for Me.
"I will."
Good. Life is good. You re-mem-ber.
"I won't die."
Promise?
"If I die, the T'Ash Residence is yours."
Don't want by Self. Too big. FamWoman will be nice here.
"I agree."
Even Princess.
"Yes."
Cat has no taste. Smug in his superiority, Zanth left.
Breathing deeply, T'Ash lay naked on his back, fitting into the trunk pattern of the Rainbow Serpent and World Tree in the HouseHeart. The mosaic floor beneath him was as warm as his body, the room was lit by a faint yellow glow. He had cast the greatest of circles, purified himself, honored the Lord and Lady. Now it was time.
He sucked the mixture from the vial. It tasted both bitter and sweet. A tang sank into his tongue that he knew was his own taste. A flavor of ripe apples—Danith's flavor—lingered.
Power whipped through him, stripping all the control he had built over years away in atoms, scattering it to the four directions, filling him with emotions, memories, and hot desire. His body roused.
He rested on the cool earth, felt the softest breath of air, the tiniest droplet from the fountain, the most minute flicker of heat of the fire.
Fire! Fire and fire and fire. Engulfed, enveloped by fire. Fire that seared the screams from him before he could voice them. Fire that exploded through him. Fire that ate his Residence. And his Family.
He jerked into a protective curl, all muscles tense. How could he have forgotten? Even the smallest detail? He remembered all, all. He cried and screamed.
His memories imploded inside him. His power and Flair spiraled wide.
A rough, wet tongue against his equally wet cheeks. Zanth.
A cold, snow-laden swirling breeze in a gray day. The Residence, his ancestors.
A small, gentle hand stroking his face. Danith.
Danith.
His years in Downwind flew at him in stunning, dreadful images. Death, decay, filth. His second passage—gleeful, wild fighting beside Holly. Plunging his aroused body in willing, wanton women. Scents of blood and fear and victory.
The vengeance stalk flashed, more fighting. Rage unleashed until he berserked. The cold FirstFamilies Guildhall. Judging eyes. Pride. Anger. Triumph.
His last Passage—the sexual hunger, his Flair firmly fixed, chained to bedrock, channeled. Ah, Lord, the desire. He'd seen his HeartMate in one sparkling instant, felt her generosity and strength and Flair. And with trembling fingers had fashioned a HeartGift Necklace.
Danith. Danith. Danith.
His body writhed with passion. He needed her. He reached for her with all his might.
Something called to Her. The Necklace. Slowly her wits dissolved under the pressure of molten sensuality battering at her mental shields.
She rose as if sleepwalking and glided to the bedroom door. She flung it open. A wall of sexuality struck her, penetrated her, so real that it felt like large, strong hands drew her to the bedsponge.
She fell to her bed, her fingers claiming the necklace, clutching it between her breasts. Her vision misted until she could barely see. He was in shadow, but she knew his powerful body, his intense gaze. T'Ash.
Not Claif. Never Claif. Now she knew she could never go to Claif Clover. Only T'Ash. For an instant she wailed, then the hot desire poured through her again, banishing all thought, all feeling except passion. All desire except for learning his body, letting him learn hers.
T'Ash lowered himself to lie beside her, and the air in the room heated with his presence and his scent—hot steel and hard man. She had trouble breathing. Her throat dried with the searing desire pulsing through her blood. Her breasts swelled, their crests tightening in aching passion. Damp heat flooded her womanflesh, and she waited for his touch, her hips tilting, waited for her man, the one and only for her for the rest of her existence.
His fingertips feathered over her body and she whimpered. They weren't the calloused hands as she remembered, but they were T'Ash. He teased her with the lightness of his touch, until she hungered for his hands on her body, firm and demanding.
He pulled her atop him, and his big body encompassed her. His torso supported her body and arms, his legs, slightly spread, were solid and muscular under hers. He was everything.
Her blood beat in her ears like a hammer on an anvil, and she wanted him more than she had wanted anything in her life. She slithered down his slightly haired body until his sex touched that most needy part of her.
Now big hands curved around her hips, and with a powerful surge, he joined them. She thought she screamed with pleasure she'd never felt before, pleasure built of emotion as well as passion, but the sound never reached her ears.
She trembled, too shaken at all the tumultuous feelings inside her to move. She wanted only this man. She needed the touch of only his body. She craved the all-encompassing climax that only he could give her.
Waves of intense, pulsing sensation flowed through her until they built to unbearable heights, and whirled her tumbling into an undertow of ecstasy that went on and on and on.
He plunged into her and his power swept her away once more. She felt the throbbing of his shaft,
and it was the most exquisite sensation she'd ever had.
His body arched in explosive release.
Before his breathing could even, before he lost himself once more in resurging desire, he jerked to his feet and dashed the sweat from his eyes, stumbled over to the fountain and plunged into the water, then staggered out of the pool.
With a whisk of a Word he dried himself and walked unsteadily to his old workbench. Passion filled him once more, burning his blood, pounding through him. And he mastered it, as he had once mastered Flair, and used them both, now.
Jaw clenched, he designed and cut. Shaped and hammered. Sculpted and engraved. Now and again he had to pause, to concentrate on cooling his blood, ignoring his erect flesh, conquering his lust. Then he continued.
As he worked, he chanted.
He was T'Ash. T'Ash. T'ASH!
Of the GreatHouse T'Ash. Of the Thirteen GreatHouses. Of the twenty-five FirstFamilies. Of T'Ash's Phoenix. A noble son of a noble house. Honorable. Strong. Flaired. Determined on his course. He would have his HeartMate.
Everything he ever was and everything he hoped he could be, he sent into the earrings and the marriage armbands.
He reached once more for Danith. And found her. Her soft body clung to his own, her full, round breasts against his chest, the width of her curved hips cradled his manhood.
With control he didn't know he had, he ignored both his throbbing passion and hers. He demanded her essence, and he found it. Love. Generosity. Flair. Strength.
Keeping her close, eyes barely seeing, fingers working by instinct, he melded their vibrations together into redgold knotted earrings and four redgold marriage armbands.
And when he finished, he yelled in triumph, holding the earrings and her marriage bands in his hands, his own arm bracelets around his wrists. He raised his arms and power, the power of the room, the power of his ancestors, the power of the Lord and Lady flowed through him and into the jewelry.
He staggered to the soft permamoss pallet and collapsed. Too exhausted to fight the continuing relentless psychic winds of Passage, he was sucked down. Buffeted by winds of destiny, he saw two different fates unroll before him.
HeartMate Page 16
