LC03 Shield's Lady

by Jayne Ann Krentz

  Her chin lifted challengingly. “You’re going somewhere?”

  “We are going somewhere. You and I. From now on, Sariana, we will be doing most things together.”

  Sariana drew herself up to her full height which put her somewhere in the neighborhood of Gryph’s shoulder.

  “I was not aware you were going to be so possessive,” she stated. “Just because we were, well, involved for one night, does not mean you have any claim on me.”

  “No claim on you! Have you lost your senses, lady?”

  “You westerners are all alike.” Sariana glared at him. “High-strung and emotional. If you’re going to insist on conducting a temperamental scene over the subject of our relationship, I would prefer to do so later in my office. After we have analyzed what you found out about the missing cutter last night.”

  “I’ll just bet you would prefer to hold our discussion in your office where you can hide behind that black stone desk of yours and give lectures on the emotional nature of westerners. But I’ll be damned if I’m going to let you get away with that.” Gryph paused to take a grip on his temper. Patience, he reminded himself. This was a time for patience. He was dealing with a strong-willed, proud young woman who had been through a very disorienting experience. Her first sexual encounter with a man had not been anything close to what she had probably been expecting. She was only trying to cope with something that must seem very alien to her. “Sariana, I want to explain a few things to you.”

  “Such as?”

  “Such as the laws of the land,” he retorted gently. “You’ve been living with the Avylyns for several months. Hasn’t anyone ever mentioned the First Generation Pact to you?”

  “No. And I really don’t have time for a history lesson. Nor do I feel like listening to any legends right now. I’m on my way to breakfast.”

  She walked straight past him into the gallery and closed the door behind her. The scarlet-toe on her shoulder showed its teeth again in what Gryph decided was a very superior attitude for a lizard. It was an attitude the creature had clearly adopted from its new owner.

  Sariana made her way briskly along the gallery, the hem of her gown snapping at her ankles. Gryph watched her for a moment, absorbing the tilt of her proudly carried head, the straight line of her gracefully shaped back and the no-nonsense sway of her hips.

  It occurred to him then that his new Shieldmate had a full measure of pride as well as courage. She was trying very hard to pretend that nothing unusual had happened, but beneath that sweetly arrogant pose was a young woman trying in grapple with what must have been a very unsettling mix of emotions.

  Obviously she had decided on the approach she was going to use to deal with her problem. She was going to try to pretend nothing had happened. Gryph admired her spirit even while he was forced to struggle with his own temper.

  Automatically he touched the lock on his weapon kit, remembering the passion and pain and the unbreakable bond that had been forged during the night. Then he thought about Brinton dying in that alley because another Shield wanted the prisma cutter. Gryph had no choice. There was no time to continue the wooing process. He could not afford to wait on the convenience of his nervous bride. If she thought she could interview him later in her office and discuss their relationship at some unspecified time in the future, she had a surprise coming.

  He had tried to do this quietly and in private, but she had refused to listen to him. She was bent, as usual, on having everything her own way. To that end she was endeavoring to use her first major line of defense, her glib tongue. Her lack of fear of him was almost laughable. She still had no idea how indulgent he was being with her. She still did not know that under the law, her fate had been sealed last night.

  Gryph did not like untenable, unresolved situations. It was his nature to face matters and settle them.

  Perhaps the easiest, fastest and surest method of handling this situation was to force Sariana to face reality.

  Sariana swept into the breakfast room and realized just how late she was running when she saw the Avylyns already gathered for the meal. Five silvery blond heads turned toward her and five pairs of dark eyes took in the grim look on the face of the man striding through the doorway behind her.

  “The luck of the day to all of you,” Sariana said with all the cheerfulness she could manage. No one in the room could imagine how much effort it took. Her normally strong self-control was very shaky. She didn’t quite trust any of her emotions or feelings. She had known the moment she opened her door and found Gryph on the other side that life had suddenly become precarious.

  The only positive thing she could find in the situation was that she was becoming accustomed to the unpredictability of her life these days. Nothing had been straightforward or predictable since the day she had learned she had failed to make the cut at the academy. The only thing she could do was hold on to her self-control. At times it seemed that it was all she had left.

  The Avylyns made the proper greetings and then burst into exuberant chatter as they discussed the success of their annual ball.

  “It came off superbly,” Lady Avylyn chortled with great delight. “I was just telling Jasso that we were right not to stint this year. Not a soul suspected that we might be having a few trifling financial problems.”

  Lord Jasso nodded his head in satisfaction. “Quite so. You were right, my dear. Everyone was most impressed, I’m sure.”

  “Well I, for one, had a wonderful time,” Mara proclaimed, her eyes darting to Gryph’s face as if to be certain he had registered her comment. Sariana realized the younger woman was slightly miffed about Gryph’s lack of interest in being socially introduced to her friends and acquaintances. Sariana also suspected that Mara had developed a rather deep curiosity about the Shield.

  “You always have a good time as long as you dance every dance,” Bryer told his sister.

  “I didn’t see you sitting on the sidelines,” his mother said with a complacent smile. “You did a turn with every young lady in the room.”

  Bryer grinned. “What did you expect? I was merely fulfilling my responsibilities as a host.”

  Luri spoke up. “I don’t see what’s so great about dancing. Waste of time if you ask me.”

  The yellow-eyed krellcat, Luri’s constant companion, yawned in agreement and tucked its furry, sinuous body into a more comfortable position on the boy’s arm. The small creature eyed Lucky with surreptitious interest, but apparently decided hunting would not be permitted at the breakfast table. The cat went back to dozing.

  “Give yourself a few more years, Luri. You’ll change your mind,” his brother said.

  Luri opened his mouth to respond, but his attention was distracted by the lizard on Sariana’s shoulder. “Hey, you really like the scarlet-toe, huh, Sariana? I knew you would once you got to know it better. I told you they make great pets.”

  “Lucky seems to have adopted me,” Sariana said, examining the contents of the serving dishes. “I feel guilty leaving it in the cage now. The poor thing always looks so forlorn when I leave it behind.” She helped herself to a cup of tea and a breakfast muffin and politely ignored Gryph when he sat down across from her.

  “Did you have a good time last night, Sariana?” Mara asked with a direct look. “I saw you earlier in the evening but lost track of you later.”

  “You know I tend to keep earlier hours than the rest of you,” Sariana said. She sipped tea with careful restraint, aware that Gryph was helping himself to large portions from each of the bowls.

  “Sariana!” Lady Avylyn gave her a scolding glance. “You don’t mean to tell me you went to bed early last night? What about your friend Etion Rakken? He was looking forward to dancing with you again.”

  “I doubt that Rakken knew what he was missing,” Jasso said with a knowing smirk. “The banker was as drunk as a keenshee bird in a gullberry patch by the time the ball e
nded.”

  “As it happens I had business to attend to last night,” Sariana said. “Business I think we should discuss right after breakfast. If you would all be so kind as to come to my office as soon as we finish here, I would appreciate it.”

  “Business,” Mara repeated with a groan. “Who wants to talk about business this morning? I want to talk about the ball.”

  Lord Avylyn gave his business manager a sharp look. “Does this concern the cutter?”

  Gryph answered before Sariana could speak. “The prisma cutter has become Shield business.”

  Everyone turned to stare at him, including Sariana who didn’t have the least idea of what he was talking about. It was obvious his words meant something to the Avylyns. They looked distinctly startled.

  “Shield business?” Jasso exclaimed. “But how? Why? I don’t understand. That cutter has always belonged to the Avylyns. Our family has held it since the first crystal was sold to us.”

  “Calm yourself, Lord Avylyn,” Gryph said. “When the cutter is found, it will be returned to your family. I meant only that locating the cutter is now a Shield matter. I will pursue it for Shield purposes and when I find it, I will give it to you. I just want it clear that there is no longer any question of my working for anyone else in this matter.”

  Jasso was stunned. “You’re going to look for it for free?” he finally got out.

  Gryph glanced at Sariana and then gave his attention to his food. “Let’s just say that my fee has been paid in full.”

  Sariana suddenly realized that everyone in the room except Gryph was now staring at her. She sat tensely in her chair and, stared back in bewilderment.

  “Is something wrong?” she finally asked in irritation.

  “Nothing is wrong,” Gryph stated. “Eat your breakfast. You wanted a conference in you office after the meal? All right, you’ll have your conference.”

  Sariana bristled. “There is no need to take that tone with me. You may have decided for some obscure reason that you are no longer working for the Avylyns, but—”

  “I never was working for the Avylyns, remember? I was working for you. And you have paid me well.”

  Across the table Gryph’s eyes clashed with hers and Sariana felt herself turning pink. She was suddenly aware of the conclusions the Avylyns must be rapidly drawing from this small scene. Gryph was as good as implying that she had paid his fee last night while everyone else had been noticing Sariana’s absence from the ballroom. The implication was obvious. A flare of temper pulled her to her feet.

  If you will excuse me,” Sariana said through her teeth, “I will go to work. When you are finished, please join me in my office.”

  She was halfway to the door, her attention riveted on escape, when she struck something with the toe of her slipper. Automatically she glanced down and saw that the object on the floor was Gryph’s weapon kit.

  “You appear to have dropped something, Gryph,” she remarked icily as she bent over to pick it up.

  “Thank you,” he said with unexpected tenderness. He stayed where he was and gave her a curious smile. “I’m glad you found it. l hadn’t noticed it was missing from my belt.”

  “That’s hard to believe,” she retorted, remembering how he had awakened from unconsciousness the night she had detached the kit from his belt. “Here, you’d better take it. I certainly don’t want to be responsible for it.”

  Gryph started to hold out his arm but then he winced painfully and lowered it again.

  “Oh, your shoulder. I almost forgot.” Sariana was flooded with remorse as she recalled vividly just how much his shoulder had pained him the night before. For all she knew he was in much greater pain now that the light anesthetic had worn off. “Are you all right? You shouldn’t stretch it that way. You should take it easy.”

  “What’s wrong with his shoulder?” Luri asked with great interest.

  “Nothing that won’t heal in time,” Gryph explained. His gaze was still on Sariana. “If you would bring the kit over to me, l would appreciate it.”

  “Of course.” She moved toward him, aware of the cool prisma lock under her fingers. Last night that lock had burned itself into her palm, or so she had imagined. The punch served at the ball had certainly had a strange effect on her senses. Everything had seemed so incredibly intense. It was amazing what tricks the night could play on a woman’s senses. Wordlessly she held the kit out to Gryph.

  “Would you open it for me, Sariana?” he asked quietly.

  The silence in the room was almost overpowering. Sariana was aware that the Avylyns seemed frozen in their seats. Their attention was focused completely on the small scene being played out in front of them. In fact, they all appeared mesmerized by it.

  Sariana glanced down at the weapon kit and frowned. “Open it? But why?”

  “I need something inside and I would appreciate it if you would open the kit for me,” Gryph said, still speaking in that unnaturally soft voice.

  “Can’t you open it?”

  “My shoulder,” he said half-apologetically. “The pain seems to be radiating down into my hand.”

  “Maybe you should see another medic,” Sariana said quickly. “The wound might have become infected during the night. What about the fever? Has it gone completely?”

  “Hush, Sariana. I swear I’ll be fine. In the meantime, if you would just open the kit for me, I would appreciate it more than I can say.”

  She looked at the lock. “I don’t know how to open it.”

  “Just touch it, Sariana. Touch it the way you did last night and think of it as being open.”

  Sariana was suddenly overcome with the compelling urge to do as he asked. She had been curious about this strange pouch since the night she had taken it from his unconscious body. Now was her chance to see just what was inside. She was actually being invited to do so. She couldn’t wait.

  Eagerly she explored the lock with her fingers, finding no obvious mechanism. She looked up. “I don’t see how it works, Gryph.”

  “I told you how it works. Just touch it and think of the kit as being open.”

  He was speaking the words, Sariana realized, but his soft, dark voice seemed to be coming from somewhere inside her head, just as it had at times last night. She wondered if she was still suffering from the effects of the punch.

  “Open it, Sariana.”

  Instinctively Sariana obeyed. She touched the lock and pictured the weapon kit as being open.

  An instant later it was open. She stared down into the dark interior of the pouch, trying to see what lay inside. But before she could investigate further, Gryph reached out easily with his injured arm and plucked the kit out of her grasp.

  “My thanks, Shield Lady,” he said.

  Sariana frowned and started to ask him why he called her that, but she got no chance to do so. All five of the Avylyn, as well as two attendants who had entered the room to refill the teapots, were on their feet, talking and exclaiming at once.

  “Sariana,” Lady Avylyn said in loud accents that managed to float above the other voices in the room, “why didn’t you tell me, my dear? Last night when we talked you implied you were merely thinking of having an affair. You said nothing about marriage. I distinctly asked you if marriage had been mentioned.”

  Sariana swung around, her mouth open with astonishment. “Marriage? What are you talking about, Lady Avylyn?”

  “You opened his weapon kit,” Mara said in awed tones. “You opened a Shield’s weapon kit. He has chosen you for his bride.”

  Luri was bouncing up and down with excitement. “He told me only his Shieldmate would be able to open the kit. And you did it, Sariana. You really did it.”

  “Who would have guessed our little business manager would make a suitable bride for a Shield?” Bryer asked with a quick grin.

  Lord Avylyn waved his hand for silen
ce and then inclined his head very formally toward Sariana. “On behalf of my clan I extend our best wishes and congratulations.”

  “By the Lightstorm,” Bryer said, “this is sure a surprise. Wait until your folks hear about this, huh, Sariana? I bet they’ll be stunned. They don’t even know about Shields, do they?”

  “What’s in the kit?” Luri demanded eagerly. “Did you get a chance to see what’s inside? I’ve always wanted to get a good look inside a Shield’s weapon kit.”

  Sariana turned her appalled gaze back to Gryph. He was calmly sipping tea. His eyes met hers over the edge of his cup but he said nothing. She scanned the faces of the Avylyns. “Have you all gone crazy? What is this nonsense about marriage?”

  Jasso’s brows came together. “You must know that under the laws set down in the First Generation Pact you have allowed this Shield to claim you for his bride.”

  “I know nothing of the kind!” Sariana heard her voice rising to a shriek and frantically worked to control it. She never shrieked. “What are you talking about?”

  Lady Avylyn glanced doubtfully at her. Then she narrowed her eyes thoughtfully. “The Pact was made between the First Generation social classes of The Serendipity and the Shields. A Shield is entitled to search for a mate in any social class he wishes. But he cannot take you by force, Sariana. It is clearly stated in the Pact that the woman must be willing. Did Gryph rape you last night?”

  The beautiful little tea cup cracked and disintegrated between Gryph’s fingers. He didn’t move from his chair but his eyes were suddenly dangerous.

  “By the Lightstorm, I have done nothing against the Pact. I am a Shield. By definition that means I have obeyed the laws governing my marriage rights. Ask her.”

  “Ask me what?” Sariana was tense with a strange panic. “Will somebody please tell me what is going on here?”

  “Ask her,” Gryph ordered.

  Lord Avylyn turned to Sariana. “Sariana, you must tell me the truth. Did you give yourself willingly to this man?”

  Sariana was mortified. “How dare you ask such things in public or even in private. I know you westerners are far more liberal about—this sort of thing than those of us from the east, but surely you have some respect for a woman’s privacy.”