by Kara Fey
Padraic framed her face in his hands and glared down at her. “Perfect. You’re hunting a Luci, and she’s hunting a royal spy.”
“A Luci?”
“Aye. Like Kamara. Someone who implants memories or hallucinations with a touch.”
Charla had to admit the odds were not stacked in their favor. But life was never easy. Wasting energy bemoaning the fact was not her style. She shrugged and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling his lips down to hers, and kissed him.
He opened his mouth, thrusting his tongue to duel with hers in a battle of wills that left them both breathless and hungry for more. Padraic wrenched open the zipseam of her uniform and exposed her mons. Never in her life had she wanted anything more than to wrap her legs around his waist and slide down over his cock. Her pussy throbbed. Her outer lips ached with the pain of being overly engorged and desperate.
Magic rose, vibrated in the air, and heightened her awareness of him. Every breath he took burned in her lungs. Every beat of his heart pounded through her chest. And his desire roared through her to explode in her cunt.
“Padraic…” Charla’s fingertips jumped, zapped by small sparks of magical energy where they moved to his waist. She couldn’t wait another moment without spontaneously combusting. Yanking the wrap from his hips, Charla jumped up, locked her legs behind his back, and then lowered herself onto his thick shaft.
Teeth clenched, Padraic then slid his hands around to hold her buttocks. She realized he must be careful to avoid the moon daggers strapped to either thigh. He carried her forward until her back met the soft padding on the wall, pinning her there, impaled on his cock. She actually feared the heat of her skin would burn through her uniform.
“You’re not going anywhere alone.” Padraic pounded into her flesh to accentuate every word. “That old bitch will destroy you.” And you’re mine.
The last thought hung in the air between them. A part of her wanted to deny his claim, but the rest of her, the part stretched over his cock, the hands buried in his hair, the traitorous voice in her heart that begged to keep him, thrilled at the idea. “What would you do with me, Padraic? I’m a Moon Warrior, not a pet to be kept on a leash.”
Rock hard and merciless, he shoved her legs open wider, plunged deeper. She gasped and buried her face in his neck to keep from screaming with need. “Shadow Masters are too powerful to keep, Charla. You have to choose.”
Never had she felt anything this erotic. Every ounce of her body vibrated with awareness and magic. The head of his shaft bumped her womb, sent a shockwave of energy through her entire body, and branded eternal knowledge of him into her on a cellular level.
This much pleasure would surely kill her. Now was not the time to talk, or decide her future. Right now all she wanted was to slide up and down on his thickness, spread her legs wider, and take more of him. Deeper. Harder. Faster.
Squeezing her inner muscles, Charla caressed his length with the moist heat of her core and forced him to stop talking. With a smile, she nibbled the skin of his neck, ran her tongue along his collarbone, and rode him like a wild beast in heat until they both lost control.
Chapter Seven
“Where is she? Are you sure she’s here?” Charla watched the market carefully. Once again hidden behind the holographic image of an ugly male, Charla walked with Padraic through the crush of unsavory slavers toward the area he’d indicated to her on the station map.
“Yes. I saw the woman in your vision on this station right before you spoke to Kamara. She is well known, and feared. It is rumored that she controls everything that happens here. They call her the Ghost. Everyone knows she exists, but few can remember her face.”
“Anthea doesn’t control this station. That’s impossible.” Even as she said the words she caressed the daggers hidden beneath her cape. That was the old, naïve girl talking, the one who’d never been a mother, who’d never been betrayed. Never hated. It would be so easy for a memory planter to remain unseen, to direct others, to annihilate people’s lives. “I hope you’re wrong.”
“I’m not.”
Before Charla could summon a response, she saw her. The sight of her mother’s well-loved face was like a blowtorch firing into her stomach. “Goddess.”
“Are you all right?” Padraic’s hand wrapped around her arm when she stumbled.
“There she is.” She thought she was prepared to see her mother, confront her, and coldly walk away. As much as she hated her past, the last eight years of love and guidance wouldn’t allow thoughts of murder. Truth was an axe that had cut her in half, and now she fought with every breath to hold the pieces of her soul together.
Familiar and soothing, Padraic’s consciousness merged with hers, honed in on her visions of the woman Charla both loved and hated. Conflicting memories fought a war within her. She’d known two mothers, the one who’d destroyed her young life and the kind mentor who’d stood by her side these long years. There was no reconciling them.
“Be careful.” Padraic pulled his hand from her arm. “I’m right behind you. Whatever you do, don’t let her touch you.”
Padraic’s presence reassured her as nothing else could. He was the one person she knew wouldn’t lie to her. Ever. She knew him intimately. Walking beside her, resplendent in black and sexy as hell, he was a dream come to life. A dream she’d never even known she had.
Her plan was dangerous, but simple. With her newly mastered talents, she planned to enter her mother’s mind and discover the truth about her sons. About everything.
The woman she hunted stood behind a table wearing long red robes. Braided blond hair, streaked with gray, hung halfway down her back. Although the woman looked thin and fragile, Charla wasn’t fooled. Her mother was both agile and quick. And, if she were like Kamara, she’d see right through the mask.
With her mother’s attention drawn to what another elder said to her, Charla walked to within two steps and stopped. Hands rock steady, Charla reached up to her neck and deactivated her mask. “Hello, Mother.”
The woman turned her head atop a long elegant neck. Shock registered in her eyes for a brief moment, then receded. There was no warm welcome, no hint of love in her mother’s cold and calculating eyes. Charla couldn’t shake the feeling, no matter how ridiculous, that her mother’s body had been possessed. This woman’s eyes promised death. Something was not right.
“Charla. I was told you’d left the station.”
“Not until you tell me what you did with my sons.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Anger flared in a halo of red energy around her mother’s form, then receded into a tightly controlled pattern. The lie falling from her lips set off every internal alarm Charla had. Chest tight, hands balled into fists, Charla fought the urge to punch her.
“I remember everything, Mother. How you murdered Hanrey, tore my sons from my arms…” Rising with her anger was a heady surge of magic. It pooled in her blood and stalked a target like a Rhion beast waiting to strike. The fire of it made her eyes burn. Her mother’s gaze widen in shocked response. “I remember the touch that stole my memories.”
“I see.” The answer held no denial, no games, and no regret. The last nearly tore Charla’s heart from her chest. She fought back the swell of tears she’d held in tight control until now. Her own mother…
“No, Charla, I am not your mother.” The woman turned to the table beside her and pressed a small red button on a summoning device. “My sister always had a soft spot for you. But I have the gift of sight. I knew you would betray us the first time I held you in my arms, when you were still bloody and fighting for your initial breath.”
Undisguised hatred poured from her gaze. Charla stepped back in shock. Her aunt stepped forward, forcing her to retreat yet again as another new memory surfaced. Her mother and identical twin sister arguing over Charla on her fifth birthday. Aunt Graza had wanted her killed after her testing. Said she was too dangerous. Said she would destroy them all…
“Yes. I see you rem
ember now. I tried to convince my sister to kill you, but she was always weak in that regard. Even when you betrayed us with that farmer’s son, she refused to allow me to punish you. Instead, she stayed home and coddled you while I was banished, sent to oversee our operations here in this hellhole crawling with the dregs of humanity.” Graza took another step forward and raised her hand. The supernatural energy surrounding her flared to brilliant white, nearly blinding Charla’s newly awakened senses.
Padraic’s voice was a cool balm. You are the stronger now. Take the information you need. Strength flowed into her. Her aunt didn’t stand a chance of resisting two Shadow Masters.
Her aunt dove at her, determined to initiate physical contact so she could control Charla’s mind once again, but Charla was faster. Brutally and without forgiveness, Charla poured her consciousness into her aunt’s body, invaded her soul like the black shadow of death.
Merciless.
Though she was strong-willed and determined to resist, Graza’s mind lay open before Charla like a well-read map. Charla commanded her body to remain still, then dove deep, unlocked doors and Garza’s hidden memories. Shaken by the hatred and resentment her aunt felt harbored, Charla nearly lost her connection when she discovered her sons had been sold for fifty thousand Galactic two days after being taken from her. Her aunt had sold her sons. And her niece.
“You bitch.” Staggering from the revelation and betrayal, Charla lost control of the link and popped back into her own body. “The slavers in the tunnel were yours.”
Now on her knees, her aunt slowly rose to her feet and swayed before her. “You brought this on yourself when you betrayed us. You disgrace your Sisters, your family, our House. You are too impure to rule the House of Lore, to be queen.” Raising her right hand she signaled to someone behind Charla. A heartbeat later Charla felt the sting of bots racing into her bloodstream from a quill sticking out of her neck. “You’re a long way from home, Charla. Even your mother won’t be able to save you this time.”
“Perhaps.” In moments she would lose consciousness. She felt the slaver closing in on her, eager to pound his body into hers, to beat her, to break her. Padraic’s presence was shimmering on the edge of her awareness, like a ghost. Like a shadow. She couldn’t allow her aunt to win, no matter the cost. Let the slaver come. I’m sorry, Padraic.
Her aunt was escaping, walking away like a queen. Focusing the last of her will and drawing on the knowledge gained from Padraic’s memories, Charla again invaded her aunt’s mind and stopped her retreat. The strain of maintaining her presence in two bodies at once was like a thousand needles puncturing her brain, but she ignored the pain. She only needed a few seconds. With speed born of years of practice, Charla hurled her dagger through the air and imbedded the silver half-moon in Garza’s heart.
An agony of fire ripped through Garza’s chest and her own. Charla’s heart stuttered, and her knees buckled. Her scream of pain echoed Garza’s.
Everything went black.
Chapter Eight
Padraic forced his heart to beat, to squeeze the blood from its chambers, from hers. Too infuriated and worried to bother with stealth, he pulled the Stinger from its holster and shot the slaver kneeling over her between the eyes.
Lying on the floor, pale as death, Charla lived because he forced her to live, still a shadow in her mind. His heart beat for hers. His lungs filled with air and hers followed. His essence actually ached and he realized their Binding had already begun. If he lost her now the black void in his soul would never be whole again. If he survived at all. God help him. He’d been a rebel and a loner for years. And now, if he couldn’t save her, life held no more appeal than death.
Padraic knelt and lifted her into his arms, buried his face in her hair. “Damn you, woman. Five minutes in my mind and you think you’ve mastered your gifts?”
He felt the others approaching then. Women. Antheans. Hot, elemental rage boiled to the surface. He would kill anyone who tried to touch her or stop him from taking her.
“Please, Cross-Worlder, I can help.”
Padraic looked up to see a woman in silver robes approaching. Older than Charla, compassion shone in her eyes, and the healing gifts shone in brilliant golds and greens in her aura. Padraic knew better than to trust blindly, but with his soul locked in the struggle for life within Charla’s body, he couldn’t scan her as he normally would.
She took another step and black hair streaked with gray cascaded around her shoulders. “Please. We are not all like Garza. We’ve been waiting here, growing and learning to harness our magic.” In a flash of silver she knelt on the floor across from him, Charla’s unconscious form between them. Padraic stared into her deep blue eyes and saw excitement. “We’ve waited impatiently for her to come.”
“What?” He raised his Stinger, resting its tip in the middle of her forehead. The elder didn’t give off the psychic stench of insanity, but what she said made no sense.
“Since the prophecy at her birth, we have waited. She will launch the revolution.”
“What revolution?” Several more women approached in different colored robes and Padraic realized they were all communicating telepathically. None seemed hostile, but he pulled Charla closer to his chest and focused his energies in case he needed to attack. Her warmth seeped into his body and her scent teased him with memories of hot steamy sex and paradise. He didn’t want her in battle, he wanted her safe in his bed. “What are you talking about? She left Anthea to find Hana, not to start a war.”
“Let me heal her. She will know what to do.”
He didn’t have much choice. Already his body tired of holding her in this world. His lungs burned and his heart ached, labored for every beat. “She’s linked to her aunt. I’m not sure you can help her.”
“Aye. I can heal the damage to her body.” The elder placed her hands on Charla’s chest and closed her eyes with a knowing smile. “Your Binding will take care of the rest.”
* * *
God, she was beautiful. Perfect. His. Physically healed, she lay comatose in his bed, her golden hair spread beneath her like a halo on the silver bedding, her face vibrant and her body calling to his.
Alive.
Yet not.
Padraic drained the last of his ale and checked his ship’s navigational controls once again. Everything was operating as it should. They’d safely left Tantra 9’s docks this morning. The ship could run itself until they arrived home or he turned it off, which left him free to pace and choke on helplessness every time he looked at her unconscious body.
The healer had indeed repaired the damage to Charla’s internal organs. Her touch brought instant relief to both of them. Padraic’s heart beat on its own, his lungs didn’t have to fight for air, but his soul was still torn in two. How could he bind them together if Charla never woke up?
He’d asked the healer and her answer hadn’t pleased him. She said he’d have to pursue her in the Shadow Realm, the place Death called home, where dreams were born. It was a place even he was not eager to visit. Were he not a Shadow Master, the attempt would kill him. Even with his gifts, he wasn’t sure he’d make it back.
But Charla waited.
“Hellsfire!” Charla’s favorite curse flew easily from his lips. He spoke to her, despite the fact her soul was far beyond the reach of his words. “And you said males were a pain in the ass.”
Padraic stripped, lay down beside her in bed, and pulled her into his arms. Should neither of them return, he wanted his last memories to be of her scent, her warmth, and her soft body cradled next to his. Her hair tickled his lips as he spoke to her. “Listen to me, Charla, I’m coming for you. Do you hear me? I’m coming.”
With one last deep breath, Padraic pulled her essence into his lungs and let go. Immediately his spirit hovered above the bed and he saw the body heat of the couple lying there, inanimate empty shells waiting for their souls to return. A silvery cord still connected him to his body, and with brutal determination he severed it, cast h
is soul into the riptide of the Shadow Realm.
Immediately, darkness enveloped him, tossed him like a leaf in a flood through the realm beyond normal time and space. Then the motion stopped, and he hovered. Nowhere. Everywhere. There was nothing but silence so deep a heartbeat would have sounded like a cannon’s boom.
Focus! He had to find Charla. To find her, he had to open his eyes.
Since he had no physical form here, the desire to see was all that was required. Awareness returned, but this reality was different. Energy flowed and pooled around him, at times swirling, at others stopping for a moment to assume the outline of a form before disappearing again in the ocean of existence flowing around him. Pure energy. Nothing more. How would he ever find her in time? Charla? The name reverberated through the mass around him and was swallowed by it.
Then he heard her laugh. Dizzying and electric, reality shifted around him until she stood before him, laughing and waving good-bye to someone he couldn’t see.
“Charla?”
Covered by a red robe that swirled around her ankles in the cosmic winds, she turned to him and smiled. “Padraic. It’s about time.”
Padraic held out a hand to her, half afraid she would disappear in the swirl around them, but she surrendered her smaller hand to his keeping. In the real world she was beautiful. Here, she was ethereal and the love shining from her eyes nearly blinded him. “Are you all right?”
“Aye.” She held out her other hand to him. “I thought I would die, but you’re holding me to the other world, aren’t you?”
“I couldn’t let you go, Charla. I love you.”
Her smile widened. “I know. I can see it as plainly as you see my love for you. There are no secrets here.”
“The Shadow Realm, the place of Death and nightmares.”
“And dreams.” Charla floated into his embrace and wrapped her arms around him. “Take me home, Padraic. I’m ready. And I have a lot to tell you.”
“I have to bind your soul to take you back.”
