Ontarian Legacies 1 Shadow Assassins

by Cyndi Friberg

  “How relieved I was to be free of the maze.”

  “Sure you were.” Stalking to the tub, he encircled her upper arms with his fingers and dragged her to her feet. “You weren’t thinking about the pleasure we shared or how abruptly it came to an end? You weren’t imagining my mouth on yours or my hands roaming over your body?”

  “You’re an arrogant jerk! The only thought I had of you was how relieved I was to be rid of you.”

  “Right.” Sweeping her legs out from under her, he lifted her into his arms. “That’s why we’re both naked in the one room where you weren’t restrained. You want this as much as I do.”

  He was right. This was where she’d learned his name, where he’d first brought her to orgasm, where she’d begun to think of him as a person, not her captor.

  “Before or after?” he asked.

  “Before or after what?”

  “Are you going to explain how you saw my entire life in the blink of an eye before or after I fuck you senseless?”

  Heat unraveled within her, sending tingles to all her erogenous zones. He was rude and domineering, arrogant and relentless. She understood the events that had shaped his past now, but understanding didn’t change his personality. He would ravish her, devour her -- and she wanted nothing more.

  “After,” she breathed, her toes curling in anticipation. He sat on the smooth bench and arranged her astride his lap. With no preliminaries, he found her entrance and thrust home. She cried out, her inner walls rippling as she adjusted to his demanding length.

  “No more pretending.” His thumb circled her clit, while his other hand explored her skin, sweeping from her neck to her knees. “I’ve never felt as alive as when I’m inside you.” He paused to roll her nipple, and Echo groaned. “Did you summon me here?” he asked.

  The ache was gone. He filled the void, completing her. “I must have.”

  He rolled his hips, pushing his shaft deeper. “Not good enough. Say you want me inside you.”

  “I want you inside me.” This wasn’t real. Dream, fantasy, or vision, it didn’t matter. She could indulge her longings one last time, allow herself to experience the pleasure she’d only known in Varrik’s arms. There was nothing to stop her, no reason to resist.

  He began to move, pairing each shallow thrust with the circular motion of his thumb. “Kiss me,” he ordered. “I want your tongue in my mouth.”

  She took his face between her hands and pressed her mouth over his. Before she could deepen the kiss, however, his tongue surged into her mouth. With a chuckle, she gave him a little nip and resumed her sensual exploration. She traced his lips and enjoyed the soft inner flesh of his mouth. Finally, she curled her tongue around his, accepting his bold response. Their tongues slid from his mouth to hers and back again.

  His rhythm changed. He filled her with deep, driving thrusts, his thumb stroking up one side of her clit as he pushed in and down the other as he pulled out. She squeezed him, rocking her hips in time to his upward lunges. So hot, so sweet, so -- perfect.

  Tension gathered low in her belly. Her core contracted, and her womb tingled, preparing for release. She dragged her mouth away from his and arched her back. Her throaty cries filled the chamber. His hands moved to her hips, and he thrust to the hilt, triggering her orgasm with his thumb. She shook, her thighs clenching his hips, while her inner muscles pulsed. Good. So damn good! Why was it only like this with Varrik?

  He lifted her off his lap, and she realized he hadn’t joined her in release. He was still hard and ready for another position. Turning her around, he bent her over until her forearms rested against the bench. She moved her legs apart without having to be told.

  “Oh, stars, I could spend the next two cycles just looking at you.” He knelt behind her and caressed his way from her knees to her bottom. “Your skin is flawless. Your body designed for pleasure.”

  Not just designed for pleasure. Designed for his pleasure. Her passion-muddled mind accepted the distinction with a shiver. He traced her slit and eased one long finger into her throbbing core. It was a teasing reminder of what she’d been enjoying a few moments before.

  “Do you want more?”

  “Gods, yes. I need you inside me.”

  “Need.” She could hear the smile in his tone. “I like the sound of that.”

  But he didn’t give her what she needed. He sat on the floor and ducked beneath her, resting the back of his head against the bench. Raising her hands to the crystal wall, she watched his eyes as he grabbed her hips and pulled her toward his waiting mouth. Parting her folds with his tongue, he effortlessly located her swollen clit. Darts of pleasure flew into her belly and up her spine. Would he ever allow her to explore his body as thoroughly as he explored hers? Having a ravenous lover was blissful, but these pleasures should be shared.

  Bending her knees, she brought herself closer, pressed against his lips and eagerly rode his tongue. It was so decadent, so blatantly erotic. He held her securely and tongued her with insistent care. Restless sensations gathered, spinning outward until her skin tingled and her nipples ached.

  As if the sweet lash of his tongue weren’t enough, he eased his hand between her thighs and pushed two fingers into her sopping core. She whimpered and arched her neck, her hair brushing the small of her back. His hand pumped slow and deep, his little finger sneaking up to rub against her other hole. Would he push inside as he’d done in the shower? Oh gods, did he intend to take her there? With a strangled moan, she came in hard, pulsing waves. He left his fingers inside her until the last ripple passed.

  “I think you liked that.” He circled her with his little finger and smiled into her eyes. “Shall we explore?”

  “No. I want to touch you and taste you. You’ve barely let me ...” He moved so fast and ignored her so completely that she let her objections trail away. Scooting out from under her, he positioned her as she’d been before, leaning over the bench, braced on her forearms.

  “You didn’t happen to manifest a tube of lubricant while you were --”

  “I don’t want you to do that to me.”

  He chuckled and trailed his fingers down her spine. “I know I could change your mind, but this is your fantasy not mine.” Before she could reply, he positioned himself between her thighs and entered in one long, steady drive. She should be accustomed to his size by now. Still she held her breath as her inner muscles stretched around him.

  Holding her hips with both hands, he thrust, establishing the forceful rhythm they both craved. She arched her back into each stroke, reveling in his aggression. One of his hands moved to cup her breast, catching the nipple between his strong fingers. He knew just how to touch her, how hard to press her, before the intensity became pain.

  Their cries filled the chamber as he pushed deep, again and again. She canted her hips, lifting her bottom in an unconscious invitation. His hand swept down her side and caressed the small of her back. All the while he drove into her fast and hard. He squeezed one of her bottom cheeks, his thumb dipping in between. She squirmed away from his probing thumb, but he located his target, doing no more than rubbing her for a long while. Gradually she relaxed, focused on the smooth slide of his thick shaft.

  “You’re so wet. So, ready -- for anything.” He pushed his thumb inside with his next thrust. She clenched her hands into fists and whimpered. His shaft already stretched her to capacity. The additional fullness drove the sensations higher. She didn’t think it was possible for the pleasure to be more intense, yet a new level of excitement unfurled within her.

  He left his thumb lodged inside her, content with her surrender. His hips never stopped their strong rocking as she accepted this new intimacy. Only after the tension eased from her back did he begin to move. He drew his thumb nearly out as he thrust his shaft deep. Swirling heat passed through her abdomen. Her inner muscles constricted, accenting the duel penetration.

  “Oh gods ...” She panted. “Oh, Varrik!”

  It was all the encouragement he n
eeded. Working her body with ruthless skill, he sent sensations ricocheting from her abdomen to her chest and back. Pleasure built within her, heat combined with tension, urgency ready to spring. Her knees pressed tightly to the smooth edge of the bench as he claimed her trembling flesh.

  He brushed the hair away from her neck as he drove deep one last time. She shook beneath and against him, lost in the shattering orgasm. His mouth fastened onto her skin, marking her as he pumped his seed into her body. She hung suspended by the pleasure, breathless and shaken. He caressed the mark he’d created with his tongue as she drifted down from the powerful climax.

  The last tingle hadn’t yet left her body when he whispered above her ear, “Let’s see if the water’s still warm. We need to talk.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Varrik looked around the crystal chamber as Echo settled back against him in the bathtub. If she hadn’t intentionally summoned him to the metaphysical plane, then where the hell were they? Her soft, supple body felt so good, he wasn’t sure he cared where they were. Still, ignoring the conflict brewing in the maze wouldn’t make it go away.

  “What will happen when you return to the maze?” she asked, her thoughts in line with his.

  “I’ll convince North I had to release E’Lanna to protect her from South. That’s not only plausible; it’s more or less true.”

  “What about me?”

  “As far as North knows, I’ve got you stashed somewhere beyond the maze. At this point it’s better if North believes I still trust him.”

  “What are you hoping Mother can do for you?”

  “If we can round up the elders before it comes to an all-out war, the rest should be pretty straightforward.” He wrapped one arm around her slender waist and cupped her breast with his other hand. “Don’t try and distract me. You absorbed a whole lot more of my life than I sent to you. How did you do it?”

  “I’m not sure there’s a term for what I do. Uncle Trey calls it Mystic voyeurism.”

  “Uncle Trey? The Director of Covert Ops?”

  “That’s the one.”

  Her fighting skills and her calm composure, it was starting to make sense. “You’re a covert agent?”

  “Among other things. Each time Uncle Trey wants to use me, he has to convince my parents that I’m absolutely essential to the mission. I wasn’t lying about my career aspirations. I really do want to belong to the Symposium some day.”

  “In the meantime you were trained as a covert agent at the City of Tears?”

  “Most of my instructors came to me. It’s a security nightmare whenever I go anywhere.”

  “All right.” He marveled at her courage. Why would the High Queen’s daughter put herself at risk? She certainly didn’t need the compensation. “How does this voyeurism work?”

  “I establish a link and watch all or part of a person’s memories. Unlike what you do, when I share a person’s life the memories remain intact.”

  “We were only linked for a moment. In that time you were able to memorize every event that happened in my life from Sekall’s execution to the present?”

  “It’s a bit more complicated than that. I remember everything I see, but memories aren’t always accurate. Emotions and perspective can taint the events. I can view four different people’s recollections of a situation and get four very different accountings of what took place.”

  Varrik nodded, his mind spinning on ahead. “Still, some facts aren’t changed by emotion.”

  “What are you getting at?”

  “If you viewed North’s memories, would he show you the location and layout of the maze?”

  “As long as he actually knows where it is and how it’s laid out.”

  “The elders are the only ones who do.” It couldn’t be this easy. Hoarding information had been the primary strategy for controlling the occupants.

  “My parents will never allow me to return to the maze. Is that what you’re thinking?”

  “Our ignorance has kept us weak. It’s called the Shadow Maze for a reason. There is a central common area, but the rest is a twisting web of corridors and cells meant to isolate and confuse.”

  “You’ve lived there your entire life, and you don’t know the layout of the maze?”

  “I have more access than most, but I’ve only been in the North areas.”

  “You can manipulate memories.” She paused to look at him over her shoulder. “What prevents you from finding the information you need?”

  “My gift doesn’t work that way. I’m only vaguely aware of the memories I erase.”

  She squirmed against him, obviously uncomfortable with the direction his thoughts had taken. “Let’s wait to see what my mother has to offer. You may not need me.”

  He smiled against her damp hair. It didn’t matter what the High Queen offered him. He would always need Echo.

  * * * * *

  With a ragged sigh, Echo emerged from the sensual haze. She was back in the palace, alone in her bathtub, a blanket of iridescent bubbles floating on the water. Every touch, every consuming sensation had been so real. Had she subconsciously summoned Varrik to a shared dream? To her knowledge, dream sharing wasn’t among her abilities.

  How long had she been lost in the fantasy? She hadn’t activated the jets or the heating mechanism, so it couldn’t have been long. The water was still warm.

  She blew out a shaky breath and stood. “Dry.” Warm air swirled around her body as she reached for a wide-toothed comb. She touched the adjacent wall and said, “Mirror.” The silver matte surface transformed, reflecting her image. Her troubled gaze stared back from a face shadowed with fatigue. She was free. She was safe. So why was she miserable?

  Dragging the comb through her long hair, she ignored the conflict twisting through her. Varrik was a phantom, a dark and dangerous memory. They might occupy the same planet, but they were from completely different worlds.

  A faint discoloration drew her attention to her neck. She stepped out of the tub and closer to the mirror. As he thrust into her body the last time, Varrik had marked her with his mouth. She remembered the pleasure/pain of the forceful suction. Her physical body had been affected by whatever Mystic phenomenon brought them together. She pressed her hand against her abdomen and closed her eyes. She hadn’t bothered to construct an energy barrier. Was it possible she would conceive?

  With a frustrated sigh, she slipped on a dressing gown and walked into her bedroom. Who could she ask without unleashing pandemonium? Either of her parents would blame the incident on Varrik. After all, he could manipulate minds.

  She glanced around her bedroom, restless and confused. Easily twice the size of Varrik’s private quarters, the room had every comfort money could buy. She dismissed it all with an indifferent shrug, longing for a rumpled bed -- and stout wrist cuffs.

  Someone tapped on the privacy panel. Expecting her mother, Echo squared her shoulders and reinforced her emotional shields. She was too upset right now, and her mother saw too much.

  “Come in.” The panel slid open and Saebin entered the room. Relief washed over Echo and she rushed into the older woman’s arms. Saebin was her favorite aunt, the relative with whom she spent the most time.

  “You look like hell, sweetheart.”

  Echo laughed. From anyone else, the comment would have made her angry, but Saebin never pulled her punches. Dressed in a light blue pantsuit that complemented her blonde beauty, Saebin was just what Echo needed. When Echo had expressed an interest in becoming a covert agent, Saebin volunteered to mentor her. In the ten cycles that followed, they had formed a bond closer than friendship.

  “I’m so glad you’re here,” Echo said.

  “I thought you might need a sounding board right about now. A sounding board that wouldn’t be devastated by whatever you had to say.” They moved to the sitting area across the room. Echo chose a soft armchair, and Saebin sat on the sofa facing her. “A Mystic healer and a conventional doctor examined E’Lanna. Guess what they discovered?”r />
  “That the compulsion can’t be deactivated without Elder North?”

  “How’d you guess?”

  Brushing her damp hair away from her face, Echo shook her head. “I told Mom and Dad what it would take while we were in the cottage.”

  “Did you really expect your parents to take your word for any of this? You’ve been ‘brainwashed by that villain.’ They have to protect you from yourself.”

  “Oh, please.” Echo crossed her arms over her chest, annoyance knitting her brow. “Do they really think I’m that weak? Even if Varrik had forced himself on me -- which he didn’t -- it wouldn’t have shattered my mind.”

  “I know what brainwashing takes. It can’t be done in a matter of days. Besides, I’ve seen you in action. Your parents will always see you as a little girl.”

  “Varrik is half Rodyte. I’m sure they’ve empowered him with all sorts of wild abilities.”

  “You saw into his mind. What are his true abilities?”

  “He can teleport and manipulate brainwaves. He’s had the most experience working with memories, but he can construct compulsions almost as strong as those designed by the elders.” Echo licked her lips and glanced away from Saebin’s crystal-blue gaze. “I saw the world from his perspective. It wasn’t a pleasant reality.”

  “Has he been ruined by his past?”

  “No. It’s made him ruthless and suspicious, but his heart is --”

  “Noble?” Saebin chuckled. “Your mother has taken a passionate dislike to the word.”

  “Regardless of her opinion, the word is accurate. Varrik is noble and selfless and resolute. He’s also stubborn and desperate.” Embarrassed by her own vehemence, Echo cleared her throat and said, “Mother promised Varrik she would keep his location a secret. Is the entire Joint Council downstairs?”

  Saebin shook her head. “Just Tal, Trey, and Lyrik.”

  “The Head Master of the Conservatory, the Director of Covert Ops, and the Overlord.” Echo pushed to her feet and tightened the belt keeping her robe closed. “This isn’t going to help Varrik. We need to move quickly and stealthily.”