Fire Pearl

by Cyndi Friberg

  His brow arched above his sunglasses, but he didn’t argue. She had been anxious to experience a casino ever since the Seeker Circle revealed one in disjointed images and flashes of color. Random spikes of emotion guided her steps—joy, anticipation, anger, despair. The Conservatory was order and tranquility, meditation and discipline. She licked her lips and gazed around, mesmerized by the blinking lights.

  “Are we here to play or find Aria?”

  She shot him a disapproving glance. “Have you ever seen a casino before?”

  “Of course. The outer rim is thick with pleasure lounges.” He pulled her off the main walkway and between two rows of slot machines. “Do you even have a plan?”

  “This was the first image revealed during the Seeker Circle. She is or has been in this room.” She twisted her arm out of his grasp and straightened the sleeve of her dress. After a lifetime in modest robes, she couldn’t bring herself to don jeans or shorts.

  “So we just wander around and hope we bump into her?”

  She scowled at the sarcasm in his tone. “You are a very bad slave.”

  He threw back his head and laughed then caught her around the waist. “You like your slaves bad. You like them…” His word trailed away and he released her as suddenly as he had pulled her into his arms. As if in a trance, he moved across the aisle and pulled an advertisement off a support beam. “What is this?”

  Noll looked over the glossy poster in confusion. “It’s designed to create interest in a presentation called Star-Crossed.”

  “Well, this,” he tapped his finger against the upper corner of the poster, “is Aria.”

  She took the poster from him and stopped a passing waitress. “How do we arrange to see the next performance of this show?”

  “You don’t, doll.” The young woman tucked her tray under her arm and the upper curve of her breasts swelled into view. “Star-Crossed is closed indefinitely. The first Juliet was killed in a car crash right after she quit the show. The next one disappeared a couple weeks ago. Now everyone’s saying the show is cursed and they’re having a hell of a time recasting the role. Preston is about to have kittens.”

  A certain inflection in her tone made Noll suspect Preston wasn’t a cat. “Who is Preston?” She glanced at Faujer. She didn’t have to see his eyes to know he was enjoying the waitress’s provocative outfit.

  “Producer-director. He’s going to lose his shirt if he can’t get this thing off the ground again.”

  “I’d like to speak with him.”

  “You can ask at the box office.” She told Noll where to find it. “You might get lucky and catch him in the building.”

  “What did she say?” Faujer’s head turned as the waitress walked away.

  Add insatiable to the list. Noll crossed her arms over her chest. She was his mistress. He should be focused on her. Ignoring how closely her thoughts resembled jealousy, she cupped his chin and turned his head back around. “She said Aria disappeared a couple of weeks ago, which is when Evan and Dro Tar were here.” She should punish his insubordination. She should strip him naked and… Stop it!

  “Then we’re too late. She could be anywhere.”

  “A massive surge of Mystic energy can leave an imprint on objects around it. If we can find the place where Evan Summoned the Storm, I might be able to figure out where they took her.”

  “There are an awful lot of ifs and mights in that strategy.”

  “If you have a better idea, I’m willing to listen. If not, remain silent.”

  The polite young man at the box office directed them to Preston Carmichael’s business office. Preston’s executive assistant wasn’t nearly so polite. She demanded identification and argued with each of Noll’s suggestions until Noll used her Mystic voice to compel the contrary human into paging Preston.

  They sat in the small reception area, waiting for Preston to join them. Noll couldn’t decide if she was more annoyed by the argumentative human or Faujer’s overt interest in every female they passed.

  “If Evan and Dro Tar already found her, this is a waste of time.”

  Noll glared at Faujer and paralyzed his voice. “Apparently your definition of obedient is different from mine. I told you to be quiet.”

  He swallowed repeatedly, both hands rubbing his throat. She was about to release his vocal cords when a short, stout man approached them.

  “Sorry to keep you waiting, it’s been one hell of a day.” He glanced at his executive assistant then focused on Noll. “I gave my statement to the police last week. What exactly do you need from me?”

  Unsure if Faujer would behave, Noll stood and moved in front of him. “I don’t need anything from you. I’m hoping to help.” She produced her most charismatic smile. “I’m a consultant of sorts. I work with various police departments and private investigators.”

  He rubbed his eyes, not bothering to conceal his aggravation. “You’re a psychic?”

  “There are many labels for what I am.”

  “Do you see dead people?” For some reason he found the question funny.

  “I need to spend a few minute in Aria’s dressing room. Is that something you can arrange?”

  “First hallway on the left, second door on the right.” He pointed toward the archway beyond his snippety assistant. “If you’re hoping to find something you can sell online, you’re wasting your time. The dressing room was cleaned out days ago.” He disappeared into his office without a backward glance.

  She motioned for Faujer to follow her. The dressing room was small and sparsely furnished. Apparently Aria hadn’t spent much time here. Faujer whipped off his sunglasses and pointed to his throat with a menacing glare. She released his vocal cords and he grabbed her, one arm trapping her arms against her sides, the other hand tangled in her hair.

  “Don’t ever do that again,” he snarled, his face mere inches from hers.

  “Then obey me.” Excitement sizzled through her senses, speeding her pulse and making her weak. She could slam him across the room with a thought or paralyze his lungs. Her aching body protested the thought and demanded her surrender. Part of her needed this, craved his ungentle hands and demanding passion.

  He cupped her breast and rubbed his erection against her belly. “Tell me to come inside you and I’ll obey.”

  “I already had you inside me.” Two steps outside the throne room, Faujer had pushed her up against the wall and yanked her robe up past her breasts. The rattle of his chains had been the most erotic sound she’d ever heard. She had wrapped her legs around his waist and let him take her right there in the corridor. Shameless. Wild. She’d never come so hard in her life.

  “That was an appetizer.” His thumb circled her nipple and he continued to rock his hips. “I’m always better the second time around.”

  “I have to scan the room.” Even to her own ears, her voice sounded breathless and needy.

  “So scan. I’m not stopping you.”

  Trapping her against the edge of the vanity, he skillfully unbuttoned her dress. She should protest. They were on a mission. He couldn’t take her whenever he felt the urge. She had to establish her authority.

  “Do you want it hard and fast, or slow and easy?”

  She laughed. “Are you capable of slow and easy?” It was a possibility they’d have to explore at a later date. Her body ached, already wet and ready for hard and fast.

  He unzipped his jeans and reached for the hem of her dress. She slapped his hand away. He must learn that she was in control, that her pleasure came before his. “It will seldom be as easy as it was in the corridor.” She looked into his defiant eyes and said, “On your knees.”

  Pushing his pants below his hips, he stroked the impressive length of his erect cock. “Why wait? I’m more than ready right now.”

  “Well, I’m not. You are mine to do with as I will, and I want you on your knees.” With a mutinous glare, he continued the steady rhythm. A bead of moisture appeared at his tip. “If you come like that, I’ll make yo
u impotent.” His hand immediately stilled.

  “You can do that?” He sounded skeptical.

  “I have an even better idea.” She focused on his erection and infused her voice with Mystic energy. “From this moment forth, you will be unable to come without the sound of my voice.”

  He moaned and covered himself with both hands. “What the hell did you just do? It burns!”

  “You will only find release when I allow it and I’m losing interest fast.”

  His fingers fisted in her hair. “You bitch! Undo it, now.”

  She didn’t flinch from his aggression. The slight sting heightened her excitement. “Obey me or you’ll spend the rest of your life hard.” He sank to his knees and glared into her eyes. Shifting out of her dress, she fought back a triumphant smile. She didn’t want to push him too far too fast. “Clasp your hands behind your back and arouse me as I deserve to be aroused. I want to feel your tongue, and only your tongue, caressing my clit.”

  “I’m not a relician.” He gritted out between clenched teeth. “That’s how women pleasure each other.”

  “Lucky them. It’s also one way skilled men pleasure their women.” She spread her legs and reached behind her, bracing herself against the sides of the vanity. “Now get busy.”

  He locked his wrists behind his back and leaned in slowly, having to angle his head to reach her. His obvious reluctance amused her as she anticipated the first brush of his tongue. Knowing he had never tasted a woman was nearly as thrilling as seeing such a powerful man on his knees.

  His tongue touched her, pulled away then circled her with more conviction. She looked down into his glowing eyes and a spontaneous orgasm shook her. Damn it. She’d wanted this to last, to savor the gentle swirl of his tongue.

  Without permission, he lifted her, draping one leg over his shoulder and guiding her other foot to his thigh. She gasped and arched, sandwiched between the vanity and his mouth. He could never remain passive and she needed his aggression as much as he craved control. His lips closed around her clit and he sucked until a harsh cry escaped her throat. Yes! That’s what she wanted, what she dreamed about. He traced her slit and pushed into the very heart of her. Stars, it felt good! She grabbed his hair, holding him in place and urging him on. He licked and sucked, licked and sucked while she trembled and moaned.

  He pushed two fingers into her core and centered his mouth over her clit. Flick, thrust. Flick, thrust. On and on he went. Tension built until her muscles rippled and her body shook. She came and came again before he finally released her.

  Hooking his hands beneath her knees, he pushed her legs up and back. “Hold yourself open like this. I want to look at you.”

  She bit her bottom lip and clasped her knees, positioning herself as he demanded. The cool surface of the mirror pressed against her back and his gaze scaled her sex. “Now.” She panted. “Fill me now.”

  He laughed. “It will seldom be as easy as it was in the corridor.” He traced her creamy slit with the head of his cock, his gaze boring into hers.

  His commanding demeanor thrilled her, made her insides quiver and burn. She pressed her lips together, refusing to beg. He circled her opening then pushed in just far enough so she could feel her body expanding around him.

  “Better?” His tone held a hint of mockery.

  “Deeper.” She canted her hips. “More.”

  Easing his hands under her bottom, he lifted her, adjusting the angle of their joining as he thrust to the hilt. She waited for him to pound into her as he had done before, ready for their consuming passion to sweep her away. Instead he pulled his hands out from under her and played with her nipples. His fingers rolled one tender crest and heat spiraled through her abdomen. Her core throbbed, attuned to each firm pinch.

  “Which do you like better my cock or my tongue?”

  She closed her eyes, trembling helplessly. Sensations washed over her, hot then cold then hot again. “Cock.”

  Awareness flowed through her. A distant echo. A faded memory. Faujer pulled back and thrust deep, pressing her against the mirror. Mystic energy surged, stealing her breath and making her head spin. The mirror absorbed her, blending vision with reality. She focused on the new sensations as Faujer found a slow, steady rhythm. It was almost as if each firm stroke drove her deeper into the vision.

  Mauve-streaked silver hair spread out over a lavish mound of furs. A woman’s long legs clasped her lover’s sides as he thrust into her. Noll moaned, the woman’s pleasure joining with hers. Reaching, scanning, Noll isolated the woman and melded with her consciousness. Her lover kissed her deeply, his touch both possessive and tender. The woman buried her fingers in his hair and opened her eyes.

  Noll gasped. “Lord Drakkin.”

  Faujer clasped her throat, his gaze burning into hers. “Say my name.”

  “Vision.” She forced the word out and tugged on his wrist. “Don’t stop.” His grip eased, though his thrusts grew more forceful. Frantically scanning for the woman’s being, Noll reestablished the Mystic connection. She poured energy across the link, but the image remained distorted. She pulled back and scanned the couple’s surroundings.

  Clutching her hips, Faujer pounded into her with unrelenting determination. Noll ignored her body’s demands and searched the vision. Their location was clear yet somehow out of sync. Lord Drakkin gathered the woman against him and rolled, arranging her astride his hips. The vision receded, like water seeping between her fingers.

  “No, damn it! I’m almost there.” She wrapped her legs around Faujer’s waist and rubbed her back against the mirror. A temporal shift! So few were capable of manipulating time. If she hadn’t seen Drakkin’s face, the possibility never would have occurred to her.

  “Let me come, you bitch!” Faujer draped her knees over his arms and pulled her bottom off the vanity. “Say the words. Let me come.”

  “Not yet! I know where they are.” She closed her eyes and scanned, blocking out every distraction. “I still need to know when.”

  Chapter Three

  “My sisters?” Aria pressed her lips together and tried to keep the sarcasm out of her tone. When she’d openly challenged him before, he kissed her into silence. She wasn’t about to open that door for him again. He obviously sensed her loneliness and had no problem using it against her.

  But why did he persist in mocking her? Each time she’d been ready to believe his fantastical story, he added a new level of ridiculousness. She wasn’t a space pet’s bastard. She was the love child of a powerful Mystic and a former queen. Yeah right. And now she had siblings? Why not riches untold and her own magic powers?

  Her memory conspired with her captor, mocking her with the recent past. What did she call visions and spontaneous teleportation if not magic powers?

  It couldn’t be true. It just couldn’t. Nothing good ever happened to a Rodyte slave.

  “You have two half-sisters,” Drakkin persisted. “E’Lanna was mother to all three of you, but they have a different father. You also have a half-brother, but we won’t get into that right now.”

  Her head was still spinning from all he’d told her so far. If the space pet who had raised her wasn’t her mother, and that was one massive if. She wasn’t even Rodyte. Well, her father had been half Rodyte, but she was mostly Ontarian.

  The only hope she had of disproving this nonsense was to… Why bother trying to convince a madman that his fantasy world didn’t exist. It was a waste of energy. She should just play along and look for any opportunity to escape.

  Images of endless hills of sand spreading toward the horizon filled her memory. No one could survive out there in that vast, desolate desert. Unless she suddenly developed the ability to teleport at will, she was stuck here with this lunatic.

  Reining in her useless thoughts, she focused on the current tangent. “What were my half-sisters doing on Earth?” She’d just let him spin his tales. At least it was keeping him occupied.

  “They were sent to Earth at the beginning of the G
reat Conflict. According to Vee, they would have arrived on New Year’s Day.” He retrieved the crystal disk from his pocket then handed it to her. “This is your sister Charlotte.” He waited as she examined the image, shifting the disk to different angles. The woman was lovely. Her warm brown hair and the regal tilt of her chin reminded Aria of their mother. He held out his hand and she returned the disk. “And this is Krystabel.”

  Her brows drew together as she gazed at the second image. “They have both the same parents? They don’t look anything alike.” Krystabel’s hair was blonde and she had a small, heart-shaped face with pale blue eyes. She appeared delicate, almost fragile, with none of the nobility so evident in Charlotte’s face.

  “I’ll explain what happened to Krystabel, but let’s take this one step at a time.”

  Aria closed her fingers around the disk with a nod. It was pointless to argue with him. She’d swung from despair to elation and back. At the moment she hovered on the fringes of depression, wishing he’d just tell her why she was here. “Who sent them to Earth and why was it necessary?” She didn’t really care about the answers he concocted, but it seemed important to him that she listen.

  “Your mother hid the twins on Earth to protect them from the House of Joon. The House of Aune and the House of Joon were at the heart of the Great Conflict.”

  “Sounds like Star-Crossed.”

  He nodded. “The Ontarian version is far more complicated and even more tragic. Sacrifice didn’t result in peace as it did in the Shakespearian fable. When your mother was murdered, the Great Conflict escalated into civil war.”

  “I’m sorry.” She didn’t know what else to say. The plot of Star-Crossed was more real to her than the Great Conflict. Even if every word he said was true, these people had lived and died without her ever knowing them.

  “Your sister Charlotte is the current High Queen.”

  Half-sister to a queen is almost as good as a princess. She kept the sarcastic comment to herself. “Is the House of Aune still at war with the House of Joon?”

  “They have managed to secure a tenuous peace.” He was staring at her again, as if he wanted to devour her. “The Joint High Council rules Ontariese now. All six of the great houses are represented on the council.”