Irrevocably bent on ending this travesty and her foolishness, his gaze swept her daringly from head to toe, lingering at the soft curve of her breast, then the gentle swell of her hip. He meant to challenge her.
She had mocked him too many times.
Done him bodily harm. Attempted murder.
He stepped toward her. The fingers of one hand bound her wrists together, while his other hand moved boldly to uncover her head. She gasped, then a deep blush colored her face. A wealth of brandy-colored hair tumbled around her shoulders. Wild and unrestrained, just like the lady, it seemed to shimmer in the sunlight. With his gloves, he wiped away dirt from her cheeks. Only one smudge remained on the bridge of her nose. The sight of her small up-turned face, framed in cascading amber curls, made his breath catch, and his heart to pound fiercely. Even as he felt his muscles tighten, he realized he was staring into a pair of blue-gray eyes that appeared exceptionally innocent yet at the same time strangely beguiling.
"Admit it. You have disobeyed every law on the books," he whispered and gently ran his fingers through her hair.
"Take your hands off me. I understand quite well what brute force can accomplish. Now let me go."
He shook his head, still touching her. "Your name."
Her shoulders squared stubbornly.
"Enough," he said. "You'll stay with me."
Cameron froze suddenly. A movement almost twenty yards away caught his attention. The forest became mysteriously silent. Relief swept over him.
Jonathan Reese, his friend and confidant, stood in the shadows and with long forceful strides, approached.
Jonathan had come, dressed not in his usual City garb, but dressed as a barbarian, belying his position of counselor with the City and his authority with the coalition.
Cameron had known Jonathan for years. Jonathan was slightly smaller than he was, but Jonathan had a runner's grace and agility. Cameron held out his hand in greeting, and Jonathan clasped Cameron's hand in his. He carried a military rifle braced across his shoulders; a handgun rested in a holster around his waist. Jonathan's eyes were on his captive.
"Savage!" Jonathan called out in hushed tones, as if he meant to give warning. "Let her go."
Cameron was even more puzzled. He could not let her go, would not. Intemperate with an unrestrained need to discover her secrets, he would not allow the lady off this easy, despite Jonathan's command.
"I think not," he called out in defiance.
Jonathan's gaze flashed to his then to the girl's. Jonathan was furious with her, Cameron realized. Unspoken words flew between them as if they read each other's minds, the communication so subtle Cameron felt sure Jonathan knew this girl very well. A moment of jealous regard surged through Cameron, a fleeting thought of claiming this woman as his own insinuating itself in his mind, yet he quelled the impulse.
No matter Jonathan's command or his own feelings, he needed to know what went on here.
"Savage!" Jonathan called again. "Leave her. She is only a child and we've more important business this morning."
"I want my things back. And I'm not a child," she protested.
Cameron's lips tightened in a thin smile.
Cameron regarded her coolly and watched as she turned her head away. She lowered her lashes demurely. No innocent child would possess such a trick. Cameron almost smiled.
"Go," Jonathan commanded her. She stared, her gaze darting between the men.
He allowed her the freedom to leave.
She looked at Jonathan. "I cannot leave without my specimens. I..."
"Go!" Jonathan repeated. "Before I change my mind and take you back myself or before I allow Cameron Savage his request."
Cameron saw her eyes, clouded gray-blue, dusted beautifully with sparks of passion and fury. Eyes that seared into him and promised revenge even as she sought a way to retrieve the herbs scattered upon the ground. Eyes that matched Jonathan's.
Then she made one last request. "May I have the flower...the white one, there?" She pointed to it, her eyes pleading for this simple favor. Cameron wavered then began to deny her request.
"Yes." Jonathan interrupted his thoughts and before anything more could be said, she grabbed the fragile blossom and darted toward the convent walls.
Cameron watched Jonathan, the townsman, the coalition leader, a man who had done everything within his power to bring peace. "Everything is secure in my area. I would not have let her go, despite your command, had there been any sign of trouble."
"Do you know who she is?"
"No, although for a moment I thought...no."
Jonathan nodded. "You've guessed. Yet only logic forbids you acknowledge such a little hoyden is actually the daughter to DeMontville. My cousin."
"DeMontville's daughter? Which one?"
"Need you ask?"
"Tori..." The one word was emitted on a long drawn out breath. He remembered the first time he saw her. He'd been fascinated with her courage. Intrigued by her daring. Understood her wildness because it was inherent in his nature.
She was a little fool. With no sense to call her own.
Jonathan nodded again. "I'd swear to you she was up to no mischief, but I couldn't. She's had free run of the laboratory since her father banished her to this unholy place. She has set about to find the cure for the signe virus. And my friend, since that day in the forest, she hates thieftakers. Despises them."
"I figured that much out by myself," he said dryly. "I would have liked to take the flower back and have it analyzed."
"If I thought there was some basis for her research, I would have her lab dismantled and further use of the computers forbidden to her. She is far too impetuous."
"You cannot allow her out of the City again," Cameron warned softly. "Overlords use the trails nearby transporting goods overland to the sea. She doesn't think of the consequences before she acts. If she's in your care, Jonathan..."
"Only temporarily," he said stiffly. Then the slightest smile curved his mouth. "And I hasten to say that as soon as I can arrange a marriage for her, she will no longer be my concern."
"I'm not offering, but if I find she's causing more trouble, I'll gladly see she doesn't break anymore laws."
"You don't see the entire picture," Jonathan said softly. "She will not be controlled. She has suffered more than a woman should and now she feels invincible. No one can tell her what to do. No one."
"Her misdeeds might well see her dead," Cameron said angrily.
"She'll think twice about leaving the City again."
"Perhaps...but, if she were to stumble upon a thieftaker or a member of the syndicate, and if he were to take exception to her presence... Convince her to stay put and quickly."
"You're right, of course. I'll make sure she remains secure, even if I have to post guards at all her doors and windows," Jonathan assured him. Then he added urgently, "But now she has seen us together. What should I say to her?"
"Does she know of anything that has happened since she was banished here?"
Jonathan frowned. "Very little news reaches the outpost. It is why DeMontville chose this convent. The sisters who run it are not concerned with anything except their spiritual lives. Tori's been excluded from most everything a young girl does."
"No wonder she's turned into such a wild little creature."
"Don't be so harsh. They have kept her safe and the way her father felt, I believe he would have liked to strangle her himself." He paused. "So what do we tell her?
"As little as possible. I wouldn't want the responsibility that comes with encouraging her curiosity." As he spoke, he strode toward his glider. The camouflaged vehicle had blended into the forest.
Jonathan smiled slowly. He saluted smartly to Cameron as Cameron opened the door. "I wish you luck. God go with you."
"If we are successful, then perhaps we can sit back and relax," Cameron said, lowering the window and leaning out to address Jonathan. "One of the thieftakers has set up a handy little practice of ridding the th
ieves and the overlords of their rewards. He has played one against the other too many times and now I think it will all blow up in his face. When that is done, I will retire to the country and resume my own research."
Jonathan stepped closer. "You could do your research here. I'm sure Tori would let you have space in her lab."
Cameron grimaced. "So you'd have me play nurse maid?"
Jonathan leaned on the glider. "You know that's not my intent. She's brilliant-- perhaps a little incorrigible, but if the two of you put your minds together..."
"Our minds together?" Cameron glanced out the window, his eyes narrowing severely. "So tell me then, how would I accomplish this remarkable feat? The joining of two minds."
Jonathan's languid smile sent chills down Cameron's spine. "I'm sure you'd find it-- not so unpleasant."
A touch of humor in Jonathan's voice gave Cameron pause, but then Jonathan looked back to the City. "She knew better than to break the laws, and I know better than to allow her to reenter without the proper sterilization. Yet I don't have the heart."
"I could have killed her. And if she'd met another man...Lord, I hate to think what might have happened."
"So do I. But I don't know how to stop her."
"Then pray you find a way. If you don't, I'll find her, and despite her protests, I will see she does not bring this house of cards we have so painstakingly built to fall down around our shoulders," he said softly.
"It is of my opinion she should be locked from the lab and forbidden all reference data," Cameron continued. "Her father..."
"Her father is gone," Jonathan reminded Cameron. "Lost the very day he sent the twins away. His first goal was to find a way, to control the diseases. That is why she is so intent on finding a cure herself. That is why I'm afraid for her..."
"As well you should be." He rallied against the thoughts that found their way into his head, fought against renewed desire he had for the beauty with amber hair and soft gray eyes. "I am sorry for the loss of her father, but he lost control of her long before his death. Her banishment is proof enough."
"She's independent now. It would take a strong hand to control her. She has lived by her own rules for so long...in any case it would not be an easy task to make her biddable."
"Her foolishness will be her end one of these days. But it is not my concern." Cameron laughed softly.
Jonathan backed up a step. The glider lifted from the forest floor. "Happy hunting then."
With that last thought, the glider skimmed the ground for a momentum then finding an opening, turned and vanished from sight.
Nessa
Nessa sat on the grass outside the pavilion, legs crossed, hands on her knees, eyes closed, all stimuli shut from her mind. Her dog, a giant Great Dane stretched out beside her. "Ohm, ohm," she hummed relaxed and breathing deeply. She let the wind speak to her.
"Are you ready?"
The question rang shrilly in her mind. No, I'm not ready. Can't you see I'm concentrating?"
"Ohm," she tried to put the noise aside and focus on the words circling and dancing around her on the wings of the air. "Ohm..." The wind spoke to her of war...
War would bring devastation and no new understanding...
"Nessa." Nessa struggled against the intruder to her thoughts. Go away and let my mind float above and look down upon the earth.
"Ohm..."
Hamia rose as if to tell the intruder to leave. She became part of Nessa’s mind as Nessa became part of hers. Hamia looked around for a moment, absorbing the sounds and smells then she ran with the breezes that swayed around her.
Nessa heard fingers snap in front of her face, one, two and three.
"Nessa, you aren't fooling anyone."
Slowly Nessa opened her eyes and stared at Bevan, wishing his timing had been better.
"Bevan Antor, can't you give me a few more minutes?" Nessa unfolded her long legs and rose. She smoothed the baggy white pants she wore and tightened the black belt she sported at her waist. Slowly she crouched and brought her hands up in a defensive position. Still listening for the advice only she heard.
"Of course," Bevan said smiling at her. "But I think it would be wise for you to always be ready." He shifted back and forth on the balls of his feet, clenching and unclenching his fists. His eyes gave him away.
Trust no one. My father's death taught me that. "You are so conquered." Nessa felt a shiver of excitement rush through her.
The pair circled ever wary. Nessa held back, not wanting to make the first move. This had become a game with them. Bevan possessed less patience than Nessa. He always made the first move unless she sensed a weakness. She understood what drove Bevan; that he aspired to always be first. Yet he could rarely put together a strategy that would defeat her and that frustrated him so that he forgot to think rationally.
Nessa ducked the first punch, whirled and kicked, hitting Bevan in the back. He grunted, twisted and counter attached. Dancing and swaying, watching and waiting the couple fought. Bevan was not as quick as Nessa, but he was stronger. If she didn't protect against hits, she would lose. If she kept up her evasive moves, he would tire and leave her an opening shot.
On they fought, sweat trickled down Nessa's face and between her breasts. She didn't dare relax for even one moment. Letting down her guard would mean instant defeat and with the wrong opponent instant death. The wind swirled and hopped, picking up pieces of debris from the ground.
She saw the slightest opening, danced within inches. Bevan was thrown to the ground. She sprawled over him.
"Good job," he said. “Now let me up.”
"Promise you won't retaliate?" Trust no one.
A round of applause echoed through the cool evening night. A slight breeze carried the sound across the open meadow.
"Well done, maestros," The sensei approached, a grim expression on his face. His beard was long and white, his eyebrows shaggy. He was dressed in a robe of the same color. "You appear ready for your trial by combat."
They both bowed hands in front of them. Nessa had come to admire and respect this man. "I am," she said as she straightened, her posture and demeanor relaxed, her hands hanging loosely at her sides.
"As am I," Bevan said.
"Then we should go over the rules of combat. Most everyone else is assembled in the teaching room. Come with me." Without waiting for a response, he turned and made his way to a huge mausoleum. He walked slowly yet with a purpose, his walking stick hitting the ground in unison with his right foot as he strode.
"There are rules?" Nessa asked. She had thought this trial by combat had no parameters. That it was winner take all and those who lost would live to fight a second time. Her heart raced with anticipation of the night to come and what it had in store for her. If she passed this test, she would be allowed to work with her beloved computers for the next two years, honing her skills to perfection and learning. That was all she wanted. Hamia was in the woods now, running. Nessa wished she could run along side her, feel the wind in her face.
Bevan gave a snort behind her. "Of course there are rules. Rules to follow when someone is watching, and rules to be ignored when it is only you and your prey," he seemed to quicken his pace. He was closer to her now.
She heard his footsteps behind her. She had made plans for the confrontation with him. Excluding mistakes, they were the two best at this game of intrigue and warfare strategy. She didn't plan on making any oversights. The outcome with reward was all too important to her.
"Perhaps we can work together," he said as he finally caught up to Nessa and they walked side-by-side. "Think we can bring Hamia along to help? When she stands on her back feet she pretty much towers over every one.
"Perhaps that is not a good idea, Bevan. Either part. I'm pretty sure they don't allow dogs on the paths. It would be too dangerous for beast and man." Nessa didn't want a partner. She wanted to win. "But let's hear the rules. If two can win then I would consider you an excellent partner."
Nessa breathed in
the scent of wildflowers, tested the smell and taste of the wind. On the trails by the falls there would be very little wind. A breeze, if she was lucky. The trails were difficult to run on, the stairs slippery but she had practiced the course many times. She knew it backwards and forwards, knew all of the hiding places. Many of the participants had not even been on the course. But she knew Bevan had been diligent in his practice too. He would be a formidable opponent. The objective was to reach the north falls first.
Sensei waited at the doors, his arms folded in front of him, standing as still as stone. She didn’t know how he attained that level of patience. Then he nodded as each student walked past, his pale blue eyes probing and searching. It seemed to Nessa he silently questioned everyone.
Rebel Heart Page 5
