Real Magic

by Lissa Michaels

  “Common decency demands that a lady knock before entering a man’s cabin. Or did you plan to catch me in the raw?”

  She sputtered. “How was I to know you slept in the… in the… nude!”

  Could her face possibly get any redder?

  “I didn’t want to wake you, but until I’m certain from where the danger lies, I must be with you at all times.”

  He stared at her, searching for the truth. She didn’t like him, but he sensed that she wouldn’t let that interfere with the `job’ she had to do. “I don’t like people in here when I’m sleeping.”

  “So Mayori said.”

  Drake stiffened. “What else did she say?” His quiet tone held an ominous quality even she couldn’t miss.

  She stared into his eyes. “What did Zanera do to you?”

  Drake went cold. He clenched his jaw and fists, refusing to break her stare. “That’s none of your business.”

  “It is if she means you harm. Mayori said she thought the woman had killed you.”

  “I told you it’s none of your business.”

  Jelena sighed, knowing she’d get nothing more from this stubborn raas. His startling blue eyes had gone icier than the frozen peak of Mt. Glenbrogue.

  “You ready to tell me how you got onto my ship without anyone knowing?”

  “Why should I waste the words?” She crossed her arms beneath her breasts and wished he’d put a blasted shirt on. She couldn’t stop ogling all that dark golden skin.

  Ali’ra, she acted as if she’d never seen a naked chest! Not that she’d ever seen a chest quite like his before. So strong, so utterly masculine.

  Instead of making him look vulnerable, his half-dressed state made him look large, more formidable. She shook her head, forcing her mind to his question. “You don’t believe in magic, you won’t believe my answer.”

  “Try me.”

  “I ported here.”

  “Transported.”

  “No, ported. I’m a level three mage,” —she pointed to her eyes—“I can’t use thought alone to go where I want, so I use an ancient teleportation spell and mental pictures.”

  “You’re telling me that magic is determined by eye color?”

  Jelena nodded. “That’s the way it’s always been.” She sat straighter in her chair. Was he finally starting to believe her? “Being level three, I can perform most of my magic through hand gestures alone.” Unless she was agitated. Then she had to rely on old spells to help her perform even the simplest magic. She’d been agitated far too often lately.

  “The higher mages don’t need spells to perform magic?”

  She shook her head, surprised that he seemed truly interested, but then they wouldn’t call him the Magician if he weren’t. “Only the highest can perform magic without the use of spells and incantations.”

  “How many classes?”

  “Five.” She counted them off on her fingers. “Jade, emerald, amethyst, sapphire, and zircon.” She’d never seen a level five with zircon blue eyes, they were few and very reclusive, but she imagined that if tali had the glitter of magic in his eyes, his would be the shade. They were stunning.

  “All vibrant colors of jewels?”

  “Extremely vibrant. I could show you.” Without waiting for his nod, she drew a circle in the air with her finger, whispering the vision spell as she did.

  The center shimmered and changed, revealing a green valley bathed in golden sunshine. A rainbow arched like a jeweled dome over the sparkling city in the valley’s center.

  “This is where you live?” The Magician’s awed whisper was so quiet she wasn’t sure she hadn’t imagined it.

  She nodded, glad that her first vision had affected him the way she’d hoped. It was impossible to look upon this mystical valley and not believe in the forces of magic.

  “Where is this place?”

  “I don’t know.”

  He turned his head sharply toward her, his eyebrow raised.

  “There are evil forces, wielders of dark magic, that we are forced to protect ourselves against. The location of our city must remain a secret.”

  “From your own people?”

  She nodded. “If I were captured, I could not disclose the information no matter what they did to me. I don’t have it.”

  Without another word, he turned to the vision. “You were going to show me the different levels of mages.”

  “Yes, I was.” She stared at him a long moment, wondering if he were really interested, wishing she had Enola’s power to read thoughts. She turned her gaze toward the circle.

  Enola appeared, kneeling on the walk in front of a blonde-haired little girl. She turned to face them, a welcoming smile on her lips. “Jelena, Draken,” she mouthed, nodding.

  Tali jerked back a step, his bare arm brushing the side of her breast, scorching her through the thin fabric of her blouse. “She can see us?”

  Jelena stifled a gasp. “She is Enola, a wise and powerful mage.” She was also mentor, confidant, and Jelena’s dearest friend in the galaxy. “She’s a level four. She can wield her magic through the use of hand gestures and thought.”

  “Her eyes are nearly black,” Drake said, wondering why the hell the old woman looked so familiar. She looked ancient, wise, yet not a wrinkle marred her flawless skin. Only her white hair and the tiny little laugh lines at the corners her deep sapphire eyes hinted at her advanced age. “Is she Nar’gadesh?”

  “No, she’s Nar’gatal, a teacher.”

  Jelena stiffened beside him as a slim, smiling man entered the circle to speak with Enola. Drake clenched his fists. Something about the man he didn’t like. “Who is he?”

  “Cordan.”

  “He’s a level two?”

  She nodded. “Emerald eyes. His magic is worked through a combination of spells and hand gestures. He’s also Nar’gadesh.”

  Drake watched as Enola spoke to the man. He jerked his head in their direction and glared, making Jelena flinch. After a moment, he spun on his heel and stomped away.

  “He’s angry with me.”

  “Why?”

  “I accepted this assignment.”

  “You could have refused?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why didn’t you?”

  “I’ve never turned down an assignment. Not even one as repugnant as this.”

  Drake gritted his teeth, watching as the vision followed the man’s retreating back, and wondered why the hell this slip of a woman had the power to make him lose his temper. One moment he wanted to tumble her onto her back, the next he wanted to strangle her. “Nothing’s keeping you here.”

  “I will see my mission finished.” Jelena wouldn’t let a jealous idiot choose her assignments! Cordan was with her when she’d been called to the oracle. He’d taken one look at the Magician’s image and had thrown a fit. At that moment, she’d given up any thought about refusing. She would not be dictated to!

  “I’ve seen enough.” Drake turned his back on the vision and strode to his bureau.

  “I haven’t shown you all of them yet.”

  “Another time.” He grabbed a shirt from the chair and yanked it on. She had a sudden urge to tear it off. Without another word, he grabbed his boots and strode to the door. It slid open in front of him.

  “Tali, wait!” She had no idea what to say, but she knew she didn’t want him to leave.

  He paused and looked over his shoulder at her. “What is Cordan to you?”

  Jelena’s breath caught in her throat. “He’s the man I’m expected to marry.” She whispered so quietly, she wasn’t sure he’d heard her.

  He stared into her eyes a long moment, then nodded and strode out the door.

  Chapter Three

  OUTSIDE THE door of his cabin, Drake yanked on his boots, fastened his shirt and stuffed the tails into his pants.

  He’s the man I’m expected to marry.

  Not the man she’s going to marry. Not the man she loves. But the man she’s expected to marry. What the h
ell did that mean?

  Clenching his fists, he headed for the Bridge. Damn it, he didn’t care! He didn’t care that she was promised to someone else. In fact, it made things a hell of a lot easier.

  She was just a tempting little piece of fluff, and he was better off keeping his distance from her. Wanting a woman who despised him had to be bad for his health. The sooner he got rid of her the better.

  They couldn’t use the ship’s transporters while in the spatial corridor, but once they were out, he had every intention of relieving little Miss Nar’gadesh of her repugnant assignment.

  Pausing at the door, Drake drew in a deep cleansing breath and let it out slowly, attempting to clear his mind and body of the tension twisting him in knots. It wouldn’t do for his crew, especially Mayori, to know that their guest had him so worked up. He wasn’t completely successful, but it would do.

  The bridge had the same thin carpeting his cabin had, and the curved walls the same plain shade of white. The far wall, the largest of them, was actually a viewport that doubled as a viewscreen, but was shielded by the blast doors during their flight through the corridor. The sight of stars streaking by faster than the speed of light would make even the strongest stomach rebel.

  The navigation and tactical stations sat closest to the viewport, manned by the best the Guild had to offer. Staggered behind them, on each side of the bridge, were the system operations and communications stations. Zeth, his regular com-tech, hovered over Mayori’s shoulder as she monitored communications.

  “I was just going to wake you.” Galen rose from Drake’s chair at the command console and sat in the one next to it as Drake took his place. “We’re about ready to pull out.”

  Drake nodded, ignoring Mayori’s questioning look as she glanced over her shoulder at him.

  Galen glanced from him to Mayori and back. “You all right?”

  Drake rubbed his eyes and nodded. “I didn’t get much sleep.”

  “She was in your room, wasn’t she?” Mayori’s back was rigid as she relinquished her chair to Zeth and strode toward him.

  No point replying. She knew.

  “Did she try anything?”

  Drake shook his head, annoyed that Mayori was so protective of him. He should be grateful but he didn’t need anyone looking out for him every second. Not anymore. He sure as hell didn’t want anyone to care. “She planned to watch over me while I slept.”

  They knew him well enough to know he’d sensed her and woke immediately. He couldn’t sleep with someone else in the room—especially a woman.

  “Okay, folks,” Tilgore said from the nav station. “Everybody ready?” He sounded the tone, warning the rest of the crew that the ship was leaving the corridor.

  They braced themselves against the pull of the ship slipping free of the barrier then the sudden jerk of the reduction in speed—a reduction so great it felt as if the ship came to a complete stop.

  “Open the blast shield,” Drake ordered.

  As the shield door slid up, Jelena materialized in the center of the deck. She’d shielded herself again; no one else noticed her sudden appearance. She rubbed her elbow, a pained expression on her beautiful face. “I’ll never get used to that.”

  She’d changed her clothes. Her short jacket and pants were purple, not blue. How had she managed that one?

  He’d seen far too many magicians’ tricks and psi abilities in his years away from Bellariss to believe real magic existed. Granted, her tricks were better than most he’d seen, but that’s all they were. Tricks.

  Jerking his gaze away from the body his eyes had lingered on far too long, he stared at the brown planet rapidly growing in the viewport.

  “So this is Regula, huh? It looks awfully dreary.”

  Instead of commenting, Drake glanced at the nav board on his console and checked to see how much longer before they reached orbit and he could be rid of her. Not soon enough.

  She walked toward him and leaned over his console to see what he was doing. Her soft curls brushed his hands. He jerked back, fighting against the urge to bury his fingers in her silky tresses. Dear gods, he’d never felt anything so soft in his life.

  “You all right?” Galen asked.

  “Fine.” He cursed how strangled his voice sounded.

  Jelena snorted, drawing his gaze to her pert little nose and soft rosy lips that had no business frowning. “If you’re going to do nothing but sulk, this is going to be a very long assignment.”

  “I don’t sulk.”

  “Huh?” Galen looked at him as if he’d lost his mind.

  “He’s talking to her,” Mayori said from the chair on Drake’s left. “She’s here, isn’t she?”

  Danak, the sys-op tech, turned his head sharply toward them. “Come on! You still trying to feed us that Guardian crap?”

  Drake slouched against the back of his chair as she turned her expectant gaze to him.

  “Aren’t you going to tell him it’s true?”

  He shrugged. “People have a hard time believing what they can’t see. You might as well show yourself. Your presence isn’t a secret.”

  “I’ve gone entire assignments without my nevash ever knowing I was present,” she grumbled, and waved away her shield.

  Galen reared back against his chair. “Geez! I’m never going to get used to that.”

  “I don’t believe it,” Danak whispered.

  “That’s your loss,” she muttered, her gaze on Drake.

  “Why can I see you?” He was only interested because it obviously bothered her that he could.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Hey, show us some magic.”

  Jelena turned to Tilgore, who’d swiveled his chair to gape at her, and shook her head. “I’m done with parlor tricks for today.”

  Drake folded his arms across his chest and nodded. About time she admitted that her magic was nothing more than tricks.

  The com beeped, drawing his gaze to the com station.

  Zeth nodded, his finger pressed against the small receiver in his ear, then tapped his console and turned to Drake. “Prince Morgan.”

  Drake straightened in his chair. “Put him on.”

  In moments, the viewport went from a clear view of Regula, to opaque, to Morgan’s larger than life image. With his sun-bleached hair held away from his face only by his thin royal circlet, he made quite a sight. Regal as hell.

  Jelena stared at the screen with her mouth hanging open.

  Drake grinned. Things obviously changed when a man got married. Morgan never blew off a beautiful woman’s admiration before. He went right into his tirade.

  “Where the hell have you been? I’ve been trying to reach you for hours!”

  Morgan didn’t scare him before his voice was reduced to a rusty whisper. Drake certainly wasn’t intimidated now. “Since when do I answer to you, ugly? Forgetting who you’re talking to?”

  Jelena gasped, jerking her shocked gaze to him. “Besides being dead wrong, are you out of your mind? How can you speak to the crown prince of Bellariss in such a way? Have you no respect?”

  Morgan chuckled, his amused gaze appraising Jelena for the first time. She had the good sense to blush from her outburst. “New recruit?”

  “No.” Drake scowled. “We just reached Regula. What’s up?”

  Morgan lifted an eyebrow, obviously expecting more of an explanation. He didn’t get it. “I see that scamp brother of mine is with you.”

  “Watch it,” Galen growled, rising to his feet. “There are ladies present.”

  Morgan grinned. “You two up for a game of Knives and Staves? I need to escape for a little while.”

  Escape. That single word brought to mind with a raging clarity Drake’s reason for coming to Regula—Threaden. He’d pay for what he did to Morgan. “I’m hoping to look up an old acquaintance of yours while I’m here, but it can wait a while. Everything all right?”

  “You’ve heard the expression out of sight, out of mind? Let’s just say I need to get out
of sight for a while. Ariana’s been very… hormonal and I can’t do much about it.”

  Drake chuckled. “We’ll meet you at Bardok’s tavern.”

  Morgan gave him a relieved smile. “Great, I’ll bring Gar and Alrik. See you in half an hour. Fontinara out.”

  The screen went blank then translucent, revealing they’d entered Regula’s orbit and were maintaining their course.

  “Tell me he didn’t mean what he said, that he’s avoiding his wife’s affections.” Jelena put her hands on her hips, her face tightened in what he figured was her version of ferocious indignation.

  “His wife is half Cantaran.” Drake nodded to Galen and headed toward the doors.

  She grabbed his arm. “Which means?”

  Drake jerked his arm from her grasp. “Which means she inherited the Cantaran mating fever from her mother.” He forced himself to be patient with her, yet at the same time wondered why the hell he bothered to explain in the first place. “Arousal brings on a burning that builds until she’s in agony or finds release. With her time so near, Morgan can’t relieve her pain so he’s trying not to cause it.”

  He turned his gaze to Mayori. “I’ll need my cape and blaster.” He strode through the doors and headed toward the transporter room. He paused, glancing over his shoulder at her retreating back. “And my knife. It’s under my pillow.”

  Mayori froze then turned toward him. The look on her face was a dead giveaway. She knew just how agitated he’d been when he’d left his cabin. He never forgot his knife—ever.

  She nodded and entered his cabin.

  Clenching his jaw, he turned toward the transporter room and found Jelena blocking his way.

  “Magician, my assumption was wrong. I’m sorry. Your friend is a considerate husband and will make a noble king.”

  “Yes, he will.” Drake moved past her and his chest brushed against her soft breasts. He forced himself to ignore her startled gasp and, more specifically, the blaze of heat that flared in his groin. She’d be gone soon and so would the itch to bed her.

  Still, it might be a good idea to look up Ishello while he was here. Her skilled hands could make him forget all about this tempting, blonde sprite.