Reckoning

by T. J. Michaels

  “We bring news on a taint we discovered in the magical Realms some time ago. The Realmwalkers have been following the aura of foul energy. It is that of a man who journeys through the Place Between Worlds and into the Realm of the Dream. Since one can appear as one wishes in that Realm, this man chooses to appear as a bright and glorious being to attract whatever person he seeks.”

  RuArk sat back, puzzled. A being of light? This certainly didn’t sound like what Bryan and Ricard had described. He motioned to Azel to continue.

  “Once he gains their attention, he transforms into a dark, black clad creature with pale translucent skin, white hair, white eyes and elongated canines.”

  “Fangs? Noman,” RuArk whispered, more intrigued than before.

  “Yes, he appears as such. But in the Dream, we could not tell if he was truly a Noman or if he appeared as one to inflict fear into the hearts of the ones he wished to control.”

  Over the next couple of hours, RuArk learned more than he cared to about the unseen danger that dogged their footsteps. Now he understood the extent and limitations of this Dreadlord. Thankfully, an amateur in the use of the magick, he was not skilled enough to manipulate any person with innate Gifts, a person mated to a person with the Gifts, or anyone who was bound to RuArk through a pledge of loyalty.

  He was relieved that all Gaian, along with Rhia, Joan and every Draeman soldier who’d sworn to serve him were all safe. However, the bastard could manipulate just about everyone else.

  All this Dreadlord’s prey needed to do to ensnare themselves was to accept him, either purposely or out of mere curiosity. It was all the invitation he needed to invade their dreams and control them with promises of glory or horrors so ghastly they were too afraid to resist.

  Unfortunately, those faithful to Rhia could be used because she didn’t carry the cord of magick tied to the title, Protector of the Realm. With so many people outside of RuArk’s covering, how the hells would they ever know who to trust?

  “Thank the Ancestors he is limited to controlling only a few victims at one time,” the Grandfather said.

  “But if those victims have authority to command others, that introduces another problem.” RuArk’s head was beginning to pound with the weight of it all. Just when he seemed to get his mind wrapped around the danger to his lifemate, a new problem appeared.

  Azel interrupted his thoughts. “This may explain why he chose the Draeman man, Bryan. He was a man of authority, his father a member of the Council of Seven, very close to the sire of your lifemate, yes?”

  “Yes,” RuArk ground out through clenched teeth, “And Ricard was the brother of Rhia’s lifelong friend and companion, Brita.” But RuArk had another question. “If this imposter Dreadlord really is Noman, how would one of their kind come to learn our ways? It has been lost to all but our people since the Breaking of the world.”

  “Yes, Wind Storm, but remember the Gifts were once common to all people. All those who have a Source have the ability to use it. It is the place from where our Gifts flow. If the High Counsel, who was taught to touch his Source and walk the Dream by the Fire Storm’s mother, why would it be impossible for anyone else to learn such a thing?”

  “I believe I am beginning to understand. Thank you, Grandfather. Thank you, friend Azel.”

  But in his mind all he could think of was Rhia’s Draeman slang that summed up this whole situation.

  Fucked all to hells!

  Chapter Eleven

  RuArk bolted out of bed, his stomach tied up in knots and a fine sheen of cold sweat covered his body. Sensing no immediate threat, he lay back and rolled toward Rhia, seeking the warmth and solace of her touch. It was still dark out, but she wasn’t in bed. He snatched up her pillow, noting it was still warm. She hadn’t been gone long, so why were alarms screeching in his head?

  He threw himself into a pair of trousers and stalked out the bedroom door, all thought focused on Rhia. The second the life bond flared to life he felt her distress, but there was no sign of her in their apartments. Where the hell was she?

  Halfway through the living room, a new urgency filled his heart almost to the point of physical pain. Rhia’s curved dagger was one piece of steel she cherished above all else. It belonged to her mother, and she never left it behind, even if she were just going to the bathroom. But here it lay haphazardly in the middle of floor.

  Out of their apartments, RuArk flew down the staircases on silent feet. No sign of her in the great hall, the kitchens, nor her sparring room. Without breaking stride, RuArk called out to Lunis, who was just entering his offices.

  “Lunis! Rhia?”

  Grimacing, the steward pointed toward the hall near the kitchens that led to the back of the villa. RuArk moved faster at the man’s worried expression, and he was down the hallway, out the thick beveled glass doors, and down the steps into the rear courtyard in a bound. His heart dropped into the pit of his stomach as he took off at a dead run towards his mate.

  Under his favorite tree was Rhia, her arms wrapped around its trunk, holding on for dear life as she heaved up her guts. As long as he’d known her, she’d never been sick, not even as a child. Knowing she had fallen asleep before eating the night before, she surely needed what little she had in her stomach this morning.

  He frowned at her greenish pallor and ignored her gasp of surprise and miserable moans as he lifted her easily in his arms. RuArk took the stairs three at a time and had her back in their apartments and laid out on a couch in a flash.

  Kneeling on the floor next to her, he took her hand and gently stroked the inside of her palm. “What is it, sweetheart? Why are you ill?” he asked, his voice hard with concern.

  RuArk glowered when she lowered her eyes without giving him an answer. Something was wrong and he didn’t particularly feel like playing games about it. She wanted to keep quiet? Fine, he’d get his answers somewhere else, but get them he would. He left her side and disappeared through the bedroom doors to return fully dressed, blade and knives secured and boots laced. In his arms, he held a set of clothes and a light cloak for Rhia.

  “Lift your hips,” he demanded, stripping off her robe and easing a pair of buckskins up her legs, covered by a gray sarand. RuArk tuned out her fussing, held out her cloak and said, “We will sail across the river to see the Grandfather. He will know what to do.”

  “RuArk, I don’t think my stomach can take a trip across the river. At least not right now. Just give me a minute and I’ll be fine,” she said, looking down at her feet.

  What. The. Hells? Rhia avoiding his gaze? It was both an odd, yet telling, move on her part. Why? Because it was fucking unheard of, that’s why.

  “Stubborn ass woman!” Unmoved at the comical look of surprise on her face at his choice of Draeman curses, he pointed toward the door. “I will not give you and your stomach one minute. Since you choose not to tell me what I wish to know, we’re going. Now.”

  RuArk nudged her out the door and made her sit on the large patio at the front of the house while he sent a Groomsman for his horse.

  “Oh come on,” she protested. “I can certainly walk down to the stables.”

  “Not today. Not after what I just saw.” She grumbled, but sat nonetheless.

  A few moments later, with her tucked in front of him on his stallion’s back, he settled them into a slow easy pace down to the low gates and out of the estate. The closer they got to the three-story building that housed the Society of Physicians, the more the woman fidgeted.

  As they rode, she avoided conversation and wouldn’t say a word. Rhia was hiding something and not doing a very good job of it. Fine. He would have his answers one way or another. Instinctively reaching for his Source to heighten his sensitivity to their life bond, the bond flared. He knew he had her attention when she craned her neck and practically yelled up at him.

  “RuArk, no!”

  “Then tell me what I want to know, Rhia.” She blushed furiously. Her mouth opened, but nothing came out. Holding her chin fir
mly so she couldn’t turn away from him, he practically snarled at her. Damn it, he couldn’t protect her if he didn’t know what was going on. “Tell me,” he demanded using a hard-edged tone reserved for her most stubborn moments.

  “It’s nothing,” she whispered with a wavering sigh. The tears gathered in her eyes before her spine went ramrod straight and she didn’t utter another word. Enough was enough. RuArk stopped in the middle of the road and glared at her.

  “Rhia, I do not like when my woman lies to me.” In that moment, he let the reality of how much she meant to him flow down their bond. Rhia was more than a responsibility, more than a pledge of honor to her father. He hadn’t ever told her, was just coming to terms with it himself, but he loved her more than life. If anything should ever happen to her...

  No. He pushed the thought away, refusing to go down that path. He simply couldn’t bear it.

  He dismounted and led his mount over to a small park across the road and tethered him to a tree. He sat down in the thick manicured grass, and pulled Rhia down into his arms. Settling her in his lap, they cuddled beneath the shade of the broad branches.

  “Rhia Greysomne Miwatani, you will share your concern or I will keep you here until the snows fall.” He kissed the top of her head, taking the heat out of his words. No response. Even his threats of punishment weren’t working? Tilting her head up for a kiss, he couldn’t believe his eyes. She was asleep! Why was she so tired all the time? Yes, he was a demanding lover, but even RuArk couldn’t take responsibility for this level of fatigue. After a gentle shake, her eyes drifted open to squint against the sun.

  He absently stroked the thick cottony locks of her dark, flame-streaked hair. She looked up at him, tried to stifle a loud yawn and again he watched her choke back tears. This time, he allowed everything he felt to show in his eyes, in every line of his face. She had to know how worried he was for her.

  “We don’t need to go to the Physicians,” her voice was so soft, he barely heard her. She repeated her words and stiffened in his arms. He went still and waited.

  “RuArk, I said we don’t need to go to the Physicians. There’s nothing wrong with me.”

  “How can you say that? I know what I saw! You were clinging to a tree heaving...”

  “RuArk, I’m pregnant.”

  “...up your guts! You have never been ill, and we will go find out what...” RuArk snapped his mouth shut. “What did you say?” he asked, his voice pitched low, part irritation, part disbelief.

  “I said I’m pregnant, damn it. Look, I know we didn’t plan to have children, but please don’t be angry.” He recoiled as if she’d kicked him in the groin. In fact, her words made his belly cramp. How could she say such a thing? When he opened his mouth, the words were cold, flat.

  “You thought I would not want our child?” He was appalled. Not because she carried his baby, but because she thought him less than a man. Only a Noman would despise his own flesh and blood.

  “Well, you’ve asked me if I wanted children someday, but we didn’t plan for this. I-I just didn’t know if...”

  Her voice trailed off as his expression morphed into the most contemptuous that he could muster. How could she believe that he, a man who had sworn himself to her in both word and deed, would not want their baby?

  But when her tears began to roll down her cheeks, he felt like a complete heel.

  RuArk winced at the anguish in each sob. There wasn’t anything he hated more than seeing Rhia cry. It wasn’t something she did often, so when it happened he knew she was truly miserable. He wrapped her in his embrace, and tucked her head beneath his chin. Crooning soft words of understanding, he kissed her gently on the top of her head.

  “I’m sorry, Ree. I’m not mad about the baby. I’m mad you didn’t tell me, love.” RuArk’s anger melted as her tears continued to flow unchecked down her soft cheeks. Hell, perhaps he would bawl, too. And since when did warriors have such depth of feeling? Maybe they were both pregnant?

  Then, it hit him. She’d had all the symptoms for weeks now. He thought on how tender her breasts had been. So tender, in fact, she couldn’t bear to be touched. Even when he pressed her to his chest for a gentle hug, it had been too much. Not only had Rhia been unusually tired, her moods had traveled from happy to sad, and back again so fast, his head spun. And just this morning he’d witnessed the true evidence of her condition when he stepped outside to see her holding onto a tree, retching like a sick puppy.

  Finally, he asked, “When are you due?”

  Rhia sniffled. “Around New Spring. About six more months.”

  He took a deep breath and wished he could kick himself. How could he have missed so many clues? Some Protector of the Realm he was. Hell, he’d paid more attention to the way she dressed than her well-being.

  “Rhia, love, I’m so sorry. I should have known. There is no excuse.” He plunged ahead and let the words she most needed to hear tumble from his lips. “I love you, Fire Storm. You and our child.”

  “Y-You love me? Really? B-But what happened to the whole ‘warriors don’t love’ business?” she asked with a watery tilt of her lips, using his sleeve to wipe her wet face.

  “Rhia, you are my heart. This child is you and me. I am humbled.”

  She threw her arms around his neck and squealed, “Oh, RuArk, I’m so glad you’re happy. We never agreed to have children so soon. We just don’t do it like this in Draema. I mean, children are planned and there are so many other things I know you want to do. A child right now...”

  “Rhia, all I want is to love and protect you, and care for our family. Before all else, that is my desire. It is every warrior’s desire.”

  As they sat under that sprawling tree, pride welled up in his chest. Pride like he’d never felt. He was going to be a father. The Fire Storm was having his baby. Their baby. Suddenly, he couldn’t contain his happiness. He jumped up, grabbed her by the waist and swung her around with a loud whoop.

  A couple of warriors patrolling the park stopped and stared, their eyes wide with incredulity. RuArk didn’t care that they saw him without his Protector’s face plastered firmly across his features. He was going to be a father!

  The gawking warriors quickly realized what they were doing, wiped the disbelief off their faces, and strode away. Suddenly, he needed to get her home, to see her cared for. Setting his lifemate on her feet, he took her hand and practically dragged her toward his horse.

  “Wait, where are we going?” Rhia called, her shorter legs scrambling to keep up as he strode across the grass.

  “Home. You need to eat something, and then you will rest.”

  She shook loose from his hand, her voice sultry and soft. “Wind Storm,” she crooned, “I don’t want to go home yet. Why don’t we duck into the grove over there and, uh, spend some time together?”

  Great Ancestors, the little warrior was trying to seduce him! He thought of all the times he’d set out to do the very same thing and his blood sang with the need to make love to her. But her body was tender and sensitive. Pounding into her on the hard ground or up against a tree was out of the question, whether she liked it or not. He slammed his granite mask into place and bit the inside of his cheek to hide a chuckle when she glared.

  “We are going home. You will eat, then you will rest,” he scolded. When they reached the villa’s stables he wasn’t surprised when Rhia stormed off, leaving him behind to care for his mount. He watched her go, too happy to care that she was annoyed with him.

  Besides, he had plans for his little Fire Storm that involved lots of sweating and orgasms. Now that he was calming down a bit, he accepted that if Rhia wanted to roll around naked with him, there was no reason to refuse her. She knew her body better than anyone on the planet, so if she was up to it, then so was he.

  His mind did a one hundred eighty degree turn, and with furrowed brow, he handed the reins over to a Groomsman and headed toward the building that now housed a central office for his commanders. There was no forgetting the fac
t that someone wanted Rhia, and from what he’d uncovered so far, they wanted her alive. But who? Why? And with a baby coming, it was more important than ever to solve this dark mystery.

  * * * * *

  Rhia awoke to a completely quiet apartment. She lay in their bed and listened. It didn’t sound like anyone was around. She closed her eyes, reached for her Source, and thought on her husband to invoke their bond. Her heart warmed as she thought about how different her life was because of this man. She hadn’t known about the Source or Gifts or much of anything Gaian, and now here she was, using the magick as if she’d known how all her life. After a few seconds, she felt him out in the living room. His back was to her as she tiptoed toward him looking curiously around their apartments.

  Rhia’s breath caught in her throat. Her warrior husband stood in the middle of the open glass doorway of the terrace with nothing on but a breech, which was basically two small pieces of leather tied around his lower body. No trousers, no buckskins. He was practically naked. The man was breath stopping, rugged and just damn beautiful. Bronzed skin stretched over rippling muscle that glowed with health under the bright sunlight pouring onto the balcony. Glorious dark hair hung loose, lifted every now and again by the warm breeze so that it floated across his back and gave subtle peeks at his broad back.

  Rhia’s tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth.

  She took another step, growing just a bit nervous. It was too quiet. No one knocked on the door. No one ducked in or out with a report for the Protector. What the hell was going on?

  “RuArk, where is everybody?” she asked warily.

  He turned on her with a growl and a devilish grin, every mischievous intention written clearly across his face. She shrieked and turned to flee, but her catlike reflexes weren’t fast enough. His arm shot out and caught her before she’d taken two steps. She squealed and laughed, feeling like a child who’d just received her favorite candy and a tickle on the belly.