razorsedge

by Lisanne Norman

  Mental barriers fell before the sheer onslaught of physical sensations. He knew instantly what pleased her and responded to it.

  Her hands cupped his face, teeth nipping his cheek, her tongue taking turns with the bites, then her hands moved down his back and across his hips, her claws tracing patterns of fire, making him shudder with pleasure. Anger and bitterness were gone, all that mattered for both of them was now.

  Sensations merged till it was impossible to tell where one ended and the other began. This was a pairing such as neither of them had experienced before. Deep inside, Rezac knew that this night Zashou had bound him to her in a way no female had ever managed— and that it had very little to do with their Link.

  The moment of unity shattered into a thousand shards as their bodies climaxed, their minds fragmenting and separating yet still Linked— till death.

  *

  As his surroundings came back into focus, he found himself lying on his side, Zashou cradled against his chest. He lifted his hand to her face, running hypersensitive fingertips across her cheek, wanting the moment to last yet only too aware of its bitter sweetness. She was everything he’d ever dreamed of in a mate.

  For the first time, her eyes were gentle as they looked at him, and he sensed what he’d never thought to find within her— an equal attraction to him that she could no longer conceal. Then footsteps sounded outside.

  “Zashou?” a voice called quietly. “Are you awake?”

  Rezac pulled away from her, the moment utterly lost. Rolling soundlessly off the bed to the floor, he let out an oath and a low growl, ears flattening, tail beginning to lash from side to side.

  He won’t come in, sent Zashou.

  He’s your mate. I haven’t the right to be here.

  We’re Leskas, she replied. He won’t come in. We were given this room for us, Shanka knows this.

  The floor outside creaked as Shanka waited for a moment before leaving.

  “This whole situation is impossible,” growled Rezac, turning away from her to look out of the window. “I refuse to hide in the shadows from him!”

  “You’ve antagonized him enough, Rezac. Don’t cause any more trouble between him and me.”

  He turned back to look at her. “Why don’t you leave him?” he asked abruptly. “You don’t love him.”

  “That’s not true!”

  Rezac made a sound of disgust. “Have you forgotten what we just shared? I know exactly what you think of him.”

  She looked away for a moment. “At least Shanka has never treated me like you did,” was her angry retort. “What you just did to me was tantamount to rape!”

  Rezac growled deep in his throat, ears flattening sideways in anger. “Is that what you intend to tell Shanka? That I raped you? You’ll say nothing about how much you wanted me, and enjoyed our pairing?”

  “I didn’t enjoy it, I merely tolerated it, and you must be mad if you think I would tell Shanka about tonight! I told you, you’ve caused enough trouble between us already!”

  Angrily, Rezac reached across the bed for her and pulled her toward him. Taking her firmly by the arms, he shook her. “There’s nothing that can sever our Link, short of a mutual suicide pact,” he growled, “and I’ve no intention of dying! As for your husband, I gave up living in shadows when I left Ranz for Khalma. You’re mine now, not his!”

  “I don’t belong to you or anyone,” she hissed, trying to pull away from him.

  “Don’t you?” he said, drawing her close and covering her face and neck with tiny bites and licks, ignoring her efforts to escape him. He felt the pull of their Link flare again and her struggles grew less frantic before finally they stopped.

  A shudder ran through her body as her hands clutched his arms, and she lifted her face to his.

  Relaxing his grip on her, he nuzzled her ear. “See?” he whispered. “You can no more fight the Link than I can.”

  “Shanka will have to accept it,” she said, putting a tentative hand up to his face.

  “Will he also accept that I can’t keep my hands off you, whether or not I want to?” he demanded. “Only when I touch you does the pain inside stop.” His claws flexed out, pricking her flesh despite her long fur. Instantly aware he had hurt her, he nevertheless didn’t retract them.

  He pulled her close again, once more covering her face and neck with sharp bites and licks, ignoring her small cries of pleasure as he breathed in her scent, surrounded his senses with all that made her Zashou.

  Breathless, she wrapped her arms round him. It’s the same for me, she sent, a soft moan escaping her. This Link isn’t fair to either of us.

  “What’s fair?” he asked with a harsh laugh. “I’ve never known fair!” He let her go and turned away, the anger building up inside him again. He picked up his tunic and quickly pulled it on. “Good night.”

  Ignoring her mental distress and confusion, he yanked open the door and stepped into the corridor to the common room. Zashou’s room was almost opposite the open doorway. He could see Vartra there, taking a rare break, sitting talking to Jaisa. Beyond him Shanka sat with Tiernay. They all looked up as he banged the door behind him. Rezac felt the fur around his face and across his shoulders begin to rise.

  Shanka flinched, looking away from him. He knew Rezac had been with Zashou but wasn’t prepared to take up the other’s silent challenge.

  With an effort, Rezac contained his rage, pushing back the incipient tunnel vision that would have made him target Shanka. Ignoring them all, he crossed the lounge, going out through the other door and heading for his room.

  He slammed his door shut, locking it behind him. If he had his way, he’d share Zashou with no one. If he’d a mate like her, he’d not want any other lovers. He knew he could satisfy her to the point where she wouldn’t notice anyone but him.

  He flung himself into the chair, annoyed that he’d left her, and that he’d hurt her. Even now, through their Link, he could feel her distress. There had been no need to leave, he could have stayed all night had he wished, she’d not have turned him away. That was the problem; what she felt for him was only because of the Link. Why in all the hells did it have to be her? Why not a female he cared nothing for? Why couldn’t he accept what he now had with her? Because you want her to care for you, came the answer.

  His anger was abating now into despair. He got up and went over to the drawer unit, pulling open the top one. His hand closed round the bottle of sleeping pills Vartra had given them all. So many telepaths in one building would make sleep impossible at times, he’d said, and insisted they all take some in case. The sooner they got that shielding device mass-produced, the better. Then at least they could all get some peace in their own rooms.

  He swallowed two pills before thinking to read the label. Only one at night. He shrugged, throwing the bottle back in the drawer and shutting it. Why hadn’t he stayed with her? Why had he let his damned pride stand in the way? What they’d just shared only made him want her more and though the urgency born of their Link had diminished some, it was still not satisfied. He wasn’t satisfied.

  Lying down on the bed, he put the light out, realizing that unless she was always there, he would never be content. He tried to convince himself that what he’d said earlier was true. He didn’t want a mate, she’d only make him vulnerable, but it sounded hollow now. He tried to comfort himself with the thought that at least he had memories, but that wasn’t enough either when her constant presence in his mind only exacerbated his need to hold her, to touch her. The tablets began to make him drowsy, and gradually he drifted into sleep.

  The next morning, he woke before anyone. Silently he padded out into the main chamber, poking at the night fire, stirring up the glowing embers until they blazed high again. Throwing some more logs on it, he turned his attention to the dining table.

  Breakfast had already been left for them. When he unwrapped one of the loaves from its cloth, it was warm to the touch. He broke it open and, reaching for the knife, began spreadi
ng the butter over it, noticing as he did that there was a slightly more pronounced greenish tint to it this morning. He’d just placed some cold meat and cheese on it when Davies emerged from the other bedroom.

  “Morning,” he said, coming over to join Rezac at the table. “What kind of stunt did you pull on Jo last night? She was as mad as hell.”

  Caught with his mouth full, Rezac could do nothing but lower his ears in mute apology.

  “Look,” said Davies, helping himself to another lump of bread, “we’re going to be shut up here for God knows how long. It makes sense to get on with each other. The last thing we need is us falling out.”

  Swallowing the last piece, Rezac glared at him. “I did nothing to her!”

  “Keep your voice down! You must have done something or she wouldn’t have gone ballistic,” he said, grasping him by the arm. “I’m not your enemy, I’m actually trying to help. Now, what happened?”

  Rezac resisted the urge to pull away: he was telling the truth, his touch was friendly, and the Gods knew he needed a friend. “I was sleeping while you were at dinner. When I woke, I was linked to Jo’s mind,” he muttered. “I did nothing, honestly. I wouldn’t invade her privacy, but she thinks I did.”

  Davies let him go and turned his attention to the plate of sliced meat. “How d’you manage that?”

  “I don’t know. It’s never happened before— and I can’t be sure it won’t happen again. My Talent’s never been uncontrollable like this.”

  Davies took a bite from his sandwich, looking thoughtfully at him. “Linked, you said. Like the Link you have with Zashou?”

  “No,” he said automatically, then stopped, thinking for a moment. “Similar, but nowhere near as strong. The involuntary part is the same. I found it more difficult than I expected to disengage my mind from hers,” he admitted.

  As Davies continued to eat his sandwich, Rezac felt some of his defensiveness begin to dissolve. Relaxing the tensed muscles around his neck, he reached out for some more bread and meat.

  “Are you attracted to her?” Davies asked abruptly.

  The suddenness of the question made him jump. “No, of course not! She’s not my kind. How could I find her attractive?” he said, unable to prevent his ears lying backward in acute embarrassment. “You told me that only Vartra’s changes attracted us to each other as a species,” he said.

  “That’s true,” Davies nodded, “but I’ve been thinking. We’ve all been exposed to those changes of Vartra’s. It wouldn’t affect me, though, not being telepathic.”

  “How?”

  “That virus, it affected out people as I said. The Sholan telepath who was our contact had just gotten over it, and Jo went down with a mild cold or something on our trip out here. I reckon she’s had it. Kris certainly has. When you came out of stasis, both of you were, to put it mildly, run down and weak. You probably picked it up from them then. It’s a bloody miracle you even survived that long,” he said candidly, reaching for the jug of weak ale that was their main drink. He pulled over a tankard and poured himself a drink. “If you ask me, you’re the same as the Sholan telepaths back home. You’re as turned on to our people as they are to you. The telepaths, that is,” he amended, taking a swig.

  Rezac watched him in frozen shock. It made sense; it made a chillingly obvious sense.

  “I can see you agree,” said Davies, putting his tankard down. “I’ve never heard of Leskas that are more than two, but it doesn’t mean it can’t happen. As you said, you were the first to use Vartra’s virus. The changes in you haven’t been diluted by breeding, so who knows what could be? I’m no authority on all this, but I seriously think you should consider talking to Kris about it.”

  “No!” growled Rezac, breaking free of his daze. “He sees me as a rival for her now.”

  “Aren’t you?” said Davies quietly. “From just watching the way you follow her with your eyes, I’d say you were interested. Whatever else he is, Kris is a damned good telepath. He’s got to know how you feel. If your mind is reaching for hers and linking, and you want her, you’ve got to talk to Kris before this gets out of hand. We can’t afford to be divided among ourselves. What about Zashou? How is she taking this?”

  “She couldn’t give a damn,” Rezac muttered, pulling the jug over and pouring himself a drink. “She’s the only one I really want. Dammit, if I could stop this… attraction to Jo, don’t you think I would? I can feel the trouble it’s causing, too! I just can’t stop it!”

  “Then talk to Kris before it’s too late and he sees you as an enemy, not a friend in trouble.”

  His thoughts in turmoil, only one fact registered fully on his confused mind. “Why didn’t you tell me before about this telepath on the ship that brought you?” Rezac demanded. “Are you still in contact with her?”

  “No,” said Davies. “We decided not to tell you about her. It’s irrelevant now, in my opinion. We should have heard from her weeks ago, but Kris can’t sense her at all. He can’t even pick up the two Sholan telepaths who were brought here by the Valtegans.”

  Rezac began to growl. “Another piece hidden from me! It seems the lack of trust is already there.”

  “Look at it from our point of view,” said Davies reasonably. “Jo’s our leader, in charge of this mission. You have a problem with females in positions of authority, and we want to avoid any leadership wrangles. You do tend to try to take matters into your own hands.”

  Rezac winced inwardly, aware of the truth of the Human’s words. “Females are weaker, they let emotions cloud their judgment,” he said defensively.

  Davies raised an eyebrow. “And you don’t? For a telepath, you have to be the most impulsive one I’ve met, and I’ve met a few. I suppose it’s your age and background.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean? You know nothing about me or my background!” he said angrily, beginning to rise from his seat.

  “Sit down, and stop being such a damned fool,” said Davies equably, taking another mouthful of ale. “You’re not an adult yet, are you? Around twenty-five or so? All males from eighteen to thirty are now sent off-world with the Forces to train their natural aggression. The only ones exempt are Telepaths, Warriors, and the Brotherhood, and they undergo such a rigorous disciplinary program that they aren’t about to go berserk at the drop of a hat— like you’re about to do,” he added.

  This made Rezac pause. He’d been told none of this. His world had obviously changed drastically. Slowly he sat down again.

  “Females run a lot more of life on Shola than anyone cares to admit,” Davies continued. “I can see it, being on the outside. On balance, I’d say it was a matriarchy with a high degree of meritocracy and equal opportunity— once the males are old enough to come home. You’re going to have to get your head round that before you get back, otherwise you’re just not going to fit in. You’ve got a problem with Jo running things, and you reckon it’s up to you to step in and make the hard decisions because we won’t. Forget that, Rezac. We chose Jo because she can make them. She had to out in the field on Keiss. She made some real hard decisions there, ones she still lives with today, so don’t write her off as just a female. Fit in with us, Rezac, make an effort, then you’ll find it easier to go to Kris and get his help with Jo. He’s more likely to be able to reach her than any of us. Now, do you want to know what we found out last night at dinner?”

  “Yes,” said Rezac, between clenched teeth. No matter how badly he’d been insulted by this hairless individual beside him, he needed to know what had happened. Dammit, he could break him in half with one hand! What justification had he for talking to him like this? Because he’s right, came the little voice again. He was growing to hate his conscience!

  From the start, it had been obvious that Taradain was interested in Jo. He’d had her seated beside him, on his father’s right hand, whereas the men had been consigned to Killian’s left. All evening he’d leaned over her solicitously, seeing she had plenty to eat and drink, though she drank sparin
gly. Both food and wine had been a pleasant change from their normal fare of ale and fatty meat. Even the bread had appeared almost white by comparison with the gritty gray-green flat loaves they were usually given.

  “Belamor! I see you’ve managed to join us after all!” Killian said, his voice carrying effortlessly across the hall. “Join us at the high table.”

  Davies had looked up to see who it was.

  Neither the light of the twenty torches lining the great hall, nor that of the hundreds of candles in their sconces, could dismiss the shadows that seemed to cling to the hooded figure in the lapis-colored robe that slowly approached them. All that could be heard of his progress across the wooden floor was the regular tapping of his staff as it touched the ground with every other step.

  Davies felt a shiver course through him as he recognized the person they’d seen from the window earlier that day.

  He stopped in front of Killian, his face still concealed within the shadow of his hood. Davies was glad the broad table separated them.

  “These are my visitors,” said Killian, indicating the three of them with a wave of his hand. “Take that damned hood off, Belamor,” he added, returning to picking his way through the plates of meat in front of him. “I know it pleases you to wear it, but not at my table.”

  Davies watched as the hand that held the staff tightened, gnarled fingers whitening briefly. His eyes followed the other hand as it went up to pull back the hood. It was almost with relief that he saw the man was human after all. Gaunt almost to the point of emaciation, the faintly olive tint to his skin did nothing to dispel the image of a walking corpse that sprang into his mind.

  From beneath a black skullcap, wispy gray hair framed the hollow-cheeked face. It was enlivened only by the piercingly dark blue eyes that looked straight into his own. It was a brief glance, but Davies felt as if his mind had been invaded and stripped of anything that might be useful to the man in front of him. On Belamor’s forehead sat a thin circlet of silver, bearing in the center a single round green stone, twin in color to the larger one set atop his staff—