“I’ll explain everything when I’m certain it’s safe to release the temporal shift. I’m not sure how Aria will react to all I must teach her. We need this time alone.”
“I understand. Training women is always challenging.” A sardonic smile framed his teeth and made the gold rings in his dark eyes glisten.
“This will not be that sort of training.”
One of his brows arched dramatically, but he left the challenge unspoken. Instead he indicated their surroundings. “Do you have everything you need?”
“Everything and more.” Drakkin inclined his head in a customary show of respect. When he raised his face again, he found Indric’s gaze narrowed and assessing as it swept over Aria.
“Where did you find a jumanna?” The glint in his eyes now had nothing to do with humor.
Gathering Aria close against his chest, Drakkin stared at his friend. “The resemblance is striking, I admit, but she is not Bilarrian. Her mother was from Ontariese and her father --”
“Was Rodyte?” Indric crossed his arms over his chest, his expression hardening. “The Rodytes are our genetic brothers, whether they choose to acknowledge the fact or not. Rodyte blood can produce Bilarrian gifts.”
“Her father was only half Rodyte. The jumanna are rare even in full-blooded Bilarrians.”
Indric shook his head, clearly unconvinced. “What color are her eyes?”
Tension coiled through Drakkin. Aria’s eyes were closed and had been since they arrived. Indric couldn’t have seen the striking combination of lavender and mauve. Still, the question gave Drakkin pause. Aria’s mother had possessed vivid purple eyes, her father emerald green. So how had she ended up with the eyes of a jumanna?
“Look at her hair,” Indric went on, “it shimmers with strands of fire and her skin gleams with a pearlescent sheen. Do her nipples turn crimson when she’s aroused? A jumanna’s cream will intoxicate her lover, make him wild and insatiable.”
Drakkin fidgeted on the furs, stifling a groan. “I’m well acquainted with the legend, but Aria can’t possibly be a Fire Pearl.”
“It’s no legend, my friend. I spent one night with a jumanna in my youth and the memory lingers with me still.” Indric shifted his gaze from Drakkin to Aria and back. “They are creatures of sensuality and grace. Her pleasure will infuse your entire body and make your magic stronger. They can even trigger dormant gifts. If this woman is not yours already, claim her immediately.”
Indric didn’t understand the situation. Drakkin had promised to mentor Aria, to awaken her Mystic abilities, not explore her sexual aptitude. “She’s a woman in her sexual prime. If she possessed these abilities, it would have been discovered long ago. She might look like a Fire Pearl, but her magic flows from Ontariese.”
“If you have never been with her, how can you be sure? Awaken her with your kiss. Touch her and taste her and see if what I say is true.”
Drakkin could barely speak. Images rolled through his mind. He pictured Aria spread out on the furs, her glorious hair framing her naked body. She arched and sighed as he knelt between her thighs, his tongue exploring her crimson folds.
Cunning light ignited in Indric’s gaze as he continued to stare at Aria. “When you actually arrive in my camp it is customary to present her to me.”
A surge of protectiveness urged Drakkin to refuse. This was the sort of nonsense that started wars. “She is not a jumanna and you have been my friend for twelve centuries. Of course, I will present her to you.”
Chapter Two
Something prickly tickled the side of Aria’s face. She turned away from the annoyance and throbbing erupted inside her head. Where was she? The last thing she remembered was -- him. She remembered the man with the red-ringed eyes teleporting with her. Drakkin. He’d said his name was Drakkin.
Holding perfectly still, she eased her eyes open. She was lying on a pile of furs in some multi-colored tent. If he thought she was still asleep ... Her thoughts scattered as her gaze landed on her captor. Naked to the waist, he stood with his back to her. The sculpted perfection of his torso distracted her for a moment before she gave herself a mental shake. She needed to find a weapon, some way of defending herself.
She had to press her lips together to keep from laughing. He could materialize out of thin air and teleport at will. Would any weapon be effective against someone like him?
He pushed his tight, black pants past his hips and Aria sucked in a ragged breath. With or without those pants, his was the finest ass she’d ever seen. Tension rippled down his back, accenting the muscular definition. Had he heard her muted gasp?
“This climate is too hot for my usual attire.” He set his pants aside and reached for a stack of neatly folded white garments. “I’d hoped to change before you recovered.”
She held her dressing gown together and managed to sit up. This situation would be as intimidating as she allowed it to be. “You saw me naked in my dressing room. I guess this is only fair.”
He slipped on the loose linen trousers before he turned around. The matching tunic was still in his hand when his gaze collided with hers. “What I glimpsed in your dressing room left me eager to see more. Are you willing to show me?” He stalked toward her, desire shining in his eyes.
Maybe challenging him wasn’t such a good idea. She licked her lips and fiddled with the gaping halves of her robe, covering as much of her legs as possible.
“I didn’t bring you here to seduce you.” His fingers curved around her chin, drawing her gaze back to his. “If you are in need, however, I’d be happy to oblige.”
“Why did you bring me here?” She ignored his proposition and waited until he lowered his hand. “You said you knew my father.”
Her comment defused the tension and he tugged the tunic on over his head. “You might find the k’fal more comfortable.” He motioned toward a purple garment on her left. “I’ll even turn my back, if you insist.”
She scooted to the edge of the furs then stood. Picking up the dress, she shook it out with a sharp snap. Largely shapeless, the gauzy material would flow from chest to ankle, the front and back panels connected by two wide straps. Intricate embroidery decorated the upper band and created a lavish border at the hem.
Without glancing at Drakkin, she lowered the gown over her head and slipped off her robe. The k’fal had no sleeves to speak of, just the connecting straps. She pushed her arms through the openings and felt the material settle against her skin. “That is better.” She sighed. “Now, why would my father want to contact me after all these years?” How he had known where to find her was even more unsettling, but she’d start with the basics.
“Would you care for something to drink before I begin? It’s a complicated story.”
“No, thank you.” She spotted several chairs on the other side of the room. “Where are we? That might be a nice place to start.”
He followed her to the chairs and sat beside her before he started his explanation. “We’re on Bilarri, in the desert region of San Adrin, to be exact.”
She had no way of verifying his claim. They could be anywhere, including Rodymia. The first vortex had whisked her away to the relative safety of Earth. Had Drakkin tracked her down and brought her back? She focused on his eyes. All the Rodytes she’d seen, including her mother, had blue rings in their eyes. She’d always wondered why her eyes were a different color.
“Is Bilarri near Rodymia?” Her mouth was so dry, she struggled to form the question.
“You don’t need to be afraid. No one will ever hurt you again. I have pledged myself to your protection.”
He seemed sincere, but she knew how easily men could deceive with earnest words. Drakkin’s image had first appeared the same day she’d heard Faujer’s commander. She remembered his words, but the sound of the commander’s voice eluded her. Was it possible they were one and the same? She shook away the notion. Nothing in her dreams indicated a connection between Drakkin and Faujer.
“What makes you think I need
protection?” And why hadn’t he answered her question?
“I see fear in your eyes.” He reached for her hand. She snatched it away. “Perhaps my information will put you at ease.” With a flick of his wrist, he conjured a translucent crystal and handed it to her. “Hold it up to the light. Your father’s likeness is captured in the disk. His name was Vee. He was my apprentice.”
She looked through the crystal and saw a man with long white hair. At first glance he appeared old, yet his features were ageless. Wisdom shone in his bright green eyes and his expression was solemn, almost sad.
“You said his name was Vee.” Lowering her hand, she rested the crystal in her lap. “Is that why you came looking for me? Did he mention me in his will or something?”
“In a way. His death was sudden, but he sensed it approaching and made arrangements for your rescue. You will never want for anything again. I will see to it.”
“Right. You’re a kindhearted stranger sent by the father I never knew to whisk me away to a life filled with happiness and security. Oh wait, can I be a princess too?”
He chuckled and held out his hand. She passed the crystal back to him. “I’ll have to check the Wisdom of the Ages. I’m not sure what your title will be.”
She tried to relax. He was clearly crazy. She just hoped he was the harmless kind of crazy. “How long have you been looking for me? How did you know where to look?” Had he sent the dreams intentionally or had they formed some sort of unconscious link when she teleported to Earth? It was hard to think of him as a stranger when she’d spent so many nights observing random snippets of his life.
“This is where the story gets complicated. As I said, I trained your father, but he was far more than a pupil to me. He was perhaps the best friend I ever had, and I’ve had many.” His lips pressed together and pain flashed through his gaze. If she hadn’t been watching him so closely, she never would have seen the fleeting change. There was still a chance he was a brilliant actor, but a bit of her suspicion eased. “After Vee left Bilarri, he went to Ontariese and founded the Conservatory. He wanted to create a training facility where Mystics could flourish regardless of political affiliation or socioeconomic standing.”
“That’s a noble ambition, but why did he go to another planet to set it up? Would the people of Bilarri have opposed his ideas?”
“Everyone on Bilarri can manipulate magic, so political neutrality is moot. But that’s not why your father left.” He lifted one of the three decorative braids. “This is how I met Vee.”
“He was a hairdresser?” His gaze flew to hers and tension spiked for an instant, then he broke out in warm, rich laughter. She should probably suppress her smartass tendencies until she found out exactly what he wanted.
“These are familial braids. They honor my wives and the children who resulted from each union.”
“You have three wives?” She wasn’t sure why she was surprised. Polygamy was a common practice in many societies. It shouldn’t matter if he had a harem filled with eager women, yet something inside her rebelled. She’d seen his face, felt his hands grasping her hips as he filled her again and again. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she’d hoped this would eventually lead to that soft pile of furs.
He brushed the backs of his fingers along her jaw, a faint smile curving his lips. “Does the thought of my wives upset you?”
“No.” She tried to turn away, but he pushed his fingers into her hair and closed them into a loose fist. Though he wasn’t hurting her, pride insisted she grab his wrist.
Leaning toward her, he brought his face mere inches from hers. His moist breath wafted across her lips, his gaze hot and consuming. “I don’t believe you.” With just the tip of his index finger, he circled her nipple. She squirmed, unsure if she were trying to avoid his touch or increase the pressure. “If you’ll be honest, I’ll release you. If releasing you is what you want.”
Did she want him to release her or would she rather feel his mouth moving over hers? Desire had been simmering within her for the past ten months. Seeing his face in the mirror had fanned the spark into flame. Maybe a kiss would ease -- Not if he was married three times over!
“Honesty buys you the choice. Release or reward.”
“The idea of any man having more than one wife is upsetting to me.” He smiled and moved his finger to her other nipple. She tugged against his wrist and his fingers tightened in her hair. This was clearly a battle of wills and her body was fighting on his side. Would he cup her breast if she continued to resist? Would he kiss her with the explosive passion she’d sensed in her vision?
“Do you want me to kiss you? Is that why you’re provoking me?”
She didn’t know what the hell she wanted. That was the problem. Her body burned, aching to be overwhelmed, yet her brain knew it was foolish, perhaps dangerous to continue down this path.
“The thought of your wives bothers me,” she relented, “but I don’t know why it should. I know nothing about you.” So much for honesty. She knew far more about him than he realized, far more than she cared to admit.
He pressed his mouth over hers just long enough for the silken heat to register, then he eased back. “Bilarrians mate for life. I have outlived three wives.” His fingers slipped from her hair and he pushed to his feet. “Vee was one of the guards who accompanied my first wife from Rodymia.”
Breathless and rattled, Aria stood as well. Focus on your father. Figure out what Drakkin wants from you. “My father was Rodyte?”
“Your father was the son of an Ontarian slave and a Rodyte soldier. He had no idea he had Mystic abilities until he came to Bilarri.”
“The Bilarrians and the Rodytes are enemies. Why did you agree to marry a Rodyte?”
“It was a political union negotiated by my father.” He clasped his hands behind his back and faced her. “How much do you know about the conflict between Bilarri and Rodymia?”
“The Rodytes were driven out by the Bilarrians thousands of years ago. They were imprisoned on a remote planet because of their inability to manipulate magic.”
Amusement lit his gaze as he turned away. He walked to a small table near the tent’s opening, where a pitcher and two cups awaited him. After filling the cups with water, he returned to her side. “That’s accurate from the Rodyte perspective, I suppose.” He handed her one of the cups and took a sip from the other. “They’ve conveniently left out the fact that they were annihilating everyone who could manipulate magic, but let’s move on. While the Rodytes were ‘imprisoned’ on their remote planet, two separate groups emerged. One was determined to multiply as quickly as possible, advance their technology, and finish what they’d begun before the exile. The other group saw the ‘imprisonment’ as an opportunity to develop and prosper without Bilarrian interference.”
“What does this have to do with Vee?”
“By the time the militant Rodytes broke through the planetary shield, the peaceful Rodytes realized it was crucial that they distinguish themselves from their warlike brothers. Their leader approached the Bilarrian government and negotiated a treaty.”
“Your marriage was part of this treaty?”
“Yes. Benita and I had been married just over a year when she was murdered by a Shadow Assassin.”
“What is a Shadow Assassin?”
“A Mystic mercenary trained in stealth and brutality. They were used extensively during Ontarian’s Great Conflict.” He paused for a moment. She wasn’t sure if he was sifting through unpleasant memories or refocusing his thoughts. They had drifted a bit off course. “Vee should have returned to Rodymia after Benita’s death, but I’d sensed his potential and offered to train him.”
“And when his training was complete, he chose to explore his mother’s world rather than return to Rodymia.”
“Exactly.”
“How old are you? The man in the crystal appeared ancient, yet you were his mentor.”
“I’m not technically immortal. I can be killed, but my ability to heal and re
generate tissue ensures my longevity.”
“Are we talking hundreds or thousands of years?”
“I have seen eighteen hundred and seventy-three years.”
“Damn,” Aria muttered. “No wonder you’ve outlived three wives.” She wrapped both hands around her cup and returned to her chair. She needed to stop distracting him or they’d never get through the tale. “Back to Vee.”
“He was murdered by a rogue Ontarian who had teamed up with the Rodytes. The Rodyte agenda hasn’t changed much over the years. They’re still determined to destroy anyone who can manipulate magic, so they fostered a similar resentment in Ontarians who lacked Mystic abilities.”
She stared down into her cup, watching the light reflect off the surface of the water. So, some big shot Mystic had left his bastard growing in a space pet. Why should she care if he was dead? He had obviously been ashamed of her or he would have contacted her before his death. Unless ...
Afraid of the hope flickering to life within her heart, she looked at Drakkin. “How long has he known about me?”
His brow knitted and he set his empty cup aside. “He wasn’t able to leave us much information. We know the Rodytes were using you to control him.”
“That’s ridiculous.” The hope sputtered out before she could enjoy its warmth. “I know for a fact he’s not the only Mystic to utilize the services of a space pet. It couldn’t have caused that much of a scandal.”
Drakkin strolled toward her, his expression cautious. “Now I’m confused. What does this have to do with space pets?”
“You really don’t have a lot of information, do you?” She set the cup on the floor and shot to her feet, too agitated to sit. “My mother was a pleasure servant. Excluding the occasional space station, and my brief stay on Earth, I’ve spent my entire life aboard ships.”
“Of course. It would make you almost impossible to find. You were continually in motion.”
“Space pets are required to register each time they switch ships. Anytime he wanted to find me, all he had to do was check the register. You’ll never convince me he was searching for me all these years.”
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