Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Acknowledgements
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Eighteen
Nineteen
Twenty
Twenty-one
Twenty-two
Twenty-three
Twenty-four
Twenty-five
Twenty-six
Twenty-seven
Twenty-eight
Twenty-nine
Thirty
Thirty-one
Teaser chapter
Praise for Heart Thief
“I loved Heart Thief! This is what futuristic romance is all about. Robin D. Owens writes the kind of futuristic romance we’ve all been waiting to read; certainly the kind that I’ve been waiting for. She provides a wonderful, gripping mix of passion, exotic futuristic settings, and edgy suspense. If you’ve been waiting for someone to do futuristic romance right, you’re in luck, Robin D. Owens is the author for you.” —Jayne Castle
“Returning to the planet Celta, the world of psychically gifted people first introduced in the RITA Award-winning HeartMate, Owens spins an entrancing tale . . . Although the setting is fresh and totally captivating, it is the well-developed characters, both human and animal, that make this story memorable. Crafty villains, honorable, resourceful protagonists, and sentient pets drive the plot of this fast-paced, often suspenseful romantic adventure. As have others before her (e.g., Anne McCaffrey, Marion Zimmer Bradley), Owens has penned a stunning futuristic tale that reads like fantasy and is sure to have crossover appeal to both SF and fantasy fans.” —Library Journal
“Owens has crafted a fine romance that is also a successful science fantasy yarn with terrific world-building. The second in a series, following HeartMate (2001), Owens’s latest stands on its own.” —Booklist
“A tremendous science fiction romance that affirms what many fans thought after reading the prequel (HeartMate): that Robin D. Owens is one of the sub-genre’s giant stars. The story line is faster than the speed of light, but more important is this world’s society seems so real that psychic powers feel genuine . . . [a] richly textured other planetary romance.” —BookBrowser
Praise for HeartMate, winner of the 2002 RITA Award for Best Paranormal Romance by the Romance Writers of America
“Engaging characters, effortless world-building, and a sizzling romance make this a novel that’s almost impossible to put down.”—The Romance Reader
“Fantasy romance with a touch of mystery . . . Readers from the different genres will want Ms. Owens to return to Celta for more tales of HeartMates.”—Midwest Book Review
“HeartMate is a dazzling debut novel. Robin D. Owens paints a world filled with characters who sweep readers into an unforgettable adventure with every delicious word, every breath, every beat of their hearts. Brava!”
—Deb Stover, award-winning author of A Moment in Time
“A gem of a story . . . sure to tickle your fancy.”
—Anne Avery, author of All’s Fair
“It shines and fans will soon clamor for more . . . A definite keeper!”—The Bookdragon Review
“This story is magical . . . doubly delicious as it will appeal to both lovers of fantasy and futuristic romance. Much room has been left for sequels.”—PNR Reviews
Titles by Robin D. Owens
HEARTMATE
HEART THIEF
HEART DUEL
If you purchased this book without a cover, you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as “unsold and destroyed” to the publisher, and neither the author nor the publisher has received any payment for this “stripped book.”
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either
are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously,
and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business
establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
HEART DUEL
A Berkley Sensation Book / published by arrangement with
the author
PRINTING HISTORY
Berkley Sensation edition / April 2004
Copyright © 2004 by Robin D. Owens.
All rights reserved. This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission. The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated. For information address: The Berkley Publishing Group, a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc., 375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.
eISBN : 978-0-425-19658-8
BERKLEY SENSATION™
Berkley Sensation Books are published by The Berkley Publishing
Group, a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.,
375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.
BERKLEY SENSATION and the “B” design
are trademarks belonging to Penguin Group (USA) Inc.
http://us.penguingroup.com
To Mom
With your vignettes and running stories,
you made me a writer
Love, Robin
Acknowledgments
My first-draft readers, critique buddies, and proofreaders: Kay Bergstrom (Cassie Miles), Janet Lane, Liz Roadifer, Sharon Mignerey (www.sharonmignerey.com), Steven Moores, Judy Stringer, Anne Tupler; Leslee Breene (www.lesleebreene.com), Sue Hornick, Alice Kober, Teresa Luthye, Peggy Waide (www.peggywaide.com); Abbey Adams (www.hometown.aolcom/abbeywrite/index.html. ); Charlotte Ballard, Leslie Dennis (www.leslieanndennis.com), Terry Hennessy, Janet Miller (www.janetlynnmiller.com), Margaret Marr (www.margaret-marr.com), Wendy Onizak, Pam Payne (www.pamelaarden.com), Shelby Reed (www.geocities.com/shelbyreed34/), Delyn Eagling, and Rose Beetem.
Nicole Spencer, who took time to help me with fight scenes even before we knew I’d publish.
Mary O., Red Oak, and Morgan who helped with the Healing scenes.
My Webmistress: Lisa Craig (www.lisacraig.com).
The folks who helped me with Labyrinths at: The Labyrinth Society (www.labyrinthsociety.org/).
Veriditas® The Voice of the Labyrinth Movement (www.gracecathedral.org/labyrinth/index.shtml).
Those who made the labyrinth in the carousel house of the old Elitch Gardens.
And, Mom, when I began writing this, I really didn’t anticipate drawing orange tabby Mama cat and seven orange tabby kittens into our lives. But now you have Wilbur the Wonder Cat.
Visit me at www.robindowens.com or www.robinowens.com, where the kittens can be admired.
One
DRUIDA CITY, CELTA, 403 years after Colonization, Summer, Month of Holly
The audio page shrieked into Lark’s bedroom, wrenching her awake. “Lark, teleport to Primary HealingHall now!”
Mayblossom Larkspur Hawthorn Collinson teleported to the HealingHall intake, instinctively channeling her adrenaline rush from being jerked out of sleep into her psi power—Healing Flair. Agony encircled her. Her nose twitched at the smell of blood and other spilled bodily substances.
Lark stumbled into a cleansing tube and croaked her name. A spell whirled around her, whipping her quilted p
ajamas, sterilizing her. The door opened.
Another Healer grabbed Lark’s wrist and hustled her to a body, placing Lark’s hands on a trembling, bloody body. “Heal!” she instructed.
Lark focused on her job, her vocation, the reason she’d survived after her husband’s death. The present abdominal wound was deep and deadly. Even as she stopped the bleeding, started closing the awful slashes, she knew she felt a broadsword cut. “Blood here!” she ordered.
Her nose quivered again, now noticing the whiff of flesh burnt by blasers. Rage rose with her gorge. She swallowed the reaction and used her fury to pump energy into the dying man.
A duel. A terrible, senseless duel! From the moaning around her and the twelve broken auras she sensed, it had been more than just one-on-one. A melée, a street fight. She mentally listed the four feuds going on. As her eyes adjusted to the light, she looked down at the colors the man wore, dark gray and green—a member of the T’Holly household.
Again she had to swallow. This feud was the worst. The Hollys and the Hawthorns. There’d been hostility between the Hollys and her Family as long as she could remember. She’d hoped the conflict would fade; instead it seemed to intensify.
Both GreatHouses belonged to the colonists’ FirstFamilies, powerful in wealth and status and Flair. If the combat continued, it could disrupt the whole city. And as Hawthorn FirstDaughter, she’d be subjected to Family pressure.
When her own caring Healer husband had run to help and died in a Noble skirmish, she’d broken her ties with her Family. Nobles’ pride in feuding, nobles’ selfishness in wanting their own way at any cost to others, nobles’ convoluted affairs had killed her Ethyn. Bitterness had eaten at her for years before she’d regained balance. After a while, she’d managed to reweave a thread with her Family. With this feud, she’d once again have to choose Healing or walk away from her relatives.
A soft-squash container of blood was placed between her hands, on the young man’s stomach. “His name’s Eryngi Holly; will he live?” asked the other Healer, Myrrh.
Lips compressed, Lark nodded.
Myrrh hesitated. “There are some Hawthorn men here.”
Lark fixed her attention on Healing the Holly guard.
“The Hawthorns have fewer injuries. I didn’t see your brother or nephew, but your cuz Whitey is here,” Myrrh said.
Lark stabilized the man’s bloodflow and energy, and Healed the lower intestinal layers. “You can finish Healing his organs and skin. Who’s next?”
“Tinne Holly has a blaser burn on his thigh. Holm Holly, his brother, asked for a FirstLevel Healer after Eryngi was seen. A Healer is administering pain relief.”
Holm Holly’s name plucked Lark from her brooding. “The Heir to the Hollys is here?”
“Yes, with his brother and a Healer in Nobleroom One.”
“Of course.”
Myrrh raised her brows at Lark’s sarcasm. “You’ll need to be more diplomatic if you want that appointment as head of Gael City HealingHall.”
Lark grimaced. “You’re right. Is anyone else injured worse than Holly? Perhaps I should see cuz Whitey.” Even though he was her least favorite family member.
“Only this lad bore a life-threatening wound. The others are all being treated. Holm Holly said he’d wait for you.” Myrrh slipped her hands under Lark’s to take over the Healing, then frowned in deep concentration. Myrrh’s complexion paled as she concentrated on chaneling energy from the Universe to use it for complex, delicate Healing.
Lark turned and marched away, re-sterilized herself in the tube, straightened her lavender commoncloth pajamas, then proceeded to Nobleroom One.
As she faced the gold-inlaid door, she inhaled deeply and battled a sense of injustice. Primary HealingHall Noblerooms held all the best furnishings and equipment. Privacy and luxury for the privileged class. Nobleroom One was the best, reserved for FirstFamilies Lords and Ladies.
She shunted aside a contrasting vision of the barren wards of AllClass HealingHall, where she also worked. Noble or common, an injured person needed her Healing skill. This thought came easier now than it had when her husband had died.
As she entered the room, Holm Holly rose from a comfortchair, his expression serious. “How’s my kinsman Eryngi?”
“He’ll recover.”
Holm’s eyelids lowered. “Thank the Lord and Lady.”
“Yes.” She glanced at her patient, Tinne, on the healing bed. He winked at her. ThirdLevel Healer Gelse nodded.
Lark turned back to Holm. She studied him, telling herself she scrutinized him for hurt, nothing else. He looked immaculate, every silver-gilt hair in place, not a smudge on his bloused shirt and trous, not a tear in his elegantly woven cloak thrown over a chair. “You were in the fight, HollyHeir?”
His jaw muscles flexed. “An ambush.”
He said nothing about her name or Family, and she appreciated his courtesy. She raised her chin. “You don’t appear any worse for wear.” There weren’t even perspiration marks on his clothes, but then there wouldn’t be; the cloth would carry a spell to erase those. With the thought, Lark became aware of his scent, musky and attractive.
“I don’t look bedraggled because I’m the best at my skill,” Holm said. He dipped his head. “As are you, Mayblossom.”
She gritted her teeth. She hated her first name, but hadn’t corrected him when they’d had their first real conversation since they’d been youngsters. That was two months ago, after a planning session for the charity ball to fund AllClass HealingHall. He’d escorted his mother, D’Holly.
The way he used Lark’s given name reminded her that no matter how she denied her class, she had grown up his equal and he still considered her that, though she was the widow of a common man.
Crossing to the healing bed of layered permamoss covered in silkeen, Lark took Tinne Holly’s hand. She nodded to Gelse and smoothly transferred pain relief duties.
“My heartfelt thanks, GraceMistrys Gelse,” Holm said, flashing a charming smile.
Gelse looked as if she might melt. Then she shook her head as if to disperse bemusement and left.
Lark stared down at the handsome blond youth of twenty. “GreatSir Holly, it’s been a while since I treated you.”
“Three years ago, my second Passage, when I fought my death-duels in the slums of Downwind, when I helped T’Ash.”
“When T’Ash saved your hide,” Holm said.
Tinne grinned, and Lark couldn’t suppress her own smile. She lifted the poultice off Tinne’s thigh. His trous had been cut from the injury, but the ends of the fabric appeared melted. The burn was bad, a third-degree streak from his knee to the outside of his hip. From the amount of relief she’d been applying, she’d thought it a first-degree burn. He must have a high pain threshold. She wondered if it ran in the family and glanced at Holm, only to meet his intense scrutiny.
His gaze switched to Tinne. “You’ll wear a scar from that one,” Holm said.
“Really? That makes six,” Tinne replied with relish.
Lark set her teeth at the sentiment, but built a layer of Healing energy between her hands and the burn. “So, what have you been doing, GreatSir, besides playing blaser-target?”
“Not my fault. Those fliggering Hawth—”
“Tinne,” Holm warned.
“Ah.” Tinne pinned his gaze on Lark and smiled winsomely again. She had the unmistakable Hawthorn coloring of blue-black hair and violet eyes. “Sorry, GreatMistrys Hawthorn.”
“Call me Lark.” Lark carefully repaired the muscle, intertwining lengths of sinew, siphoning more energy faster.
“Yes. I’m grateful for your skill. I don’t feel a thing, and it’s looking much better—” Tinne started to sit.
Even as Lark jerked her head at Holm, he pushed his brother back to the bedsponge.
“GreatSir Tinne, I’m sure your family has an estate and an occupation for you,” Lark said, trying to distract his mind while she Healed his body.
“Yeah. Second
sons always get the fighting and fencing salon, The Green Knight.” He sounded pleased. “My G’Uncle Tab is teaching me, so I can become a Master and train youngbloods for the duel, street fighting—”
“Exercise and entertainment. Sport. Exhibition bouts,” Holm continued easily.
Tinne’s gray-blue gaze went to his brother. “Huh?”
Lark used a spurt of anger and disgust to Heal. The muscle glowed with health. The flow of the Universe through her picked up some of her own energy, tiring her. She concentrated harder at sloughing the dead skin away, bringing new skin to the top, transforming the cells to the proper shape and thickness for an outside layer. She quickened her pace, but didn’t forfeit an atom of care. In a few seconds she was done. “Finished. Sending record to Primary HealingHall Library and T’Holly Residence.”
“Immediate payment authorization of all Holly charges to the HealingHall,” Holm commanded.
“Funds transferred,” stated both the deep male tones of T’Holly Residence and the comforting feminine voice of Primary HealingHall.
Tinne sat up. With a pretty, rhyming verse, Lark placed a spell on the injury, keeping it clean, but letting the flow of air through to the wound. “The bandage spell will diminish over a week. Have your Healer examine the burn daily.”
“Despite the fact that we are the Family that needs one the most, we have no household Healer. Perhaps you would be interested in the position?” Holm asked.
Shock forced Lark to look into Holm’s gray eyes. She felt a tiny jolt. Small though it was, it was still a little stronger than the quiver she’d experienced the last time they’d met. The intervals between their meetings were decreasing, just as her reaction increased. She found speech. “Impossible.”
Heart Duel Page 1
