by Owner
Var did lust after her, but he had lusted before. His feelings for her were different, more intense. Protecting her filled his chest with something he could not name. He looked into her face. Fates blessed her with beauty. Bess could have anyone she wanted. Why would she choose him?
She was his. His mate. That made the difference. He would make her choose him.
Chapter 28
How had he let Koda talk him into this, Reaf wondered. His mate, Osiria, sat on a stone bench along the wall to watch the empaths practice. The high brick wall that enclosed the partly shaded area loomed above her. When he caught her eye, she gave him an encouraging smile. All these years and Osiria still took his breath away.
Again, Reaf wondered how Koda had talked him into this. Osiria was Koda’s aunt and they had taken him in and raised the young Leader and Var after Koda’s parents died in what they now knew was an ambush set up by Veck, one of Koda’s uncles.
The empaths needed training. Koda asked Reaf to train them. Train them to do what? Reaf ground his teeth together.
Destiny and Anna entered and spoke to him before they took a seat beside Osiria. Now all three females watched him intently.
The empaths unnerved him. Their power appeared to be without end. Reaf experienced it when Claire projected her emotions after she found out Koda lied to her. Scary enough, but then she used her power of projection in the arena. Although he did not see it himself, he heard the warlords talk about it when they returned.
The wealthy elite of the Conglomerate paid huge sums of danon to watch a young woman be torn to pieces and killed. The sickness within the Conglomerate must surely rot their society from the inside out.
Koda and the warlords with him had witnessed the event at the arena. Destiny was with them to help rescue Claire. What they did not know at the time, was that when the empaths were together, they became exponentially stronger. He wondered if the Facility knew that. Maybe that was why they had taken such care to keep them separated.
Destiny pulled the essence from the crazed crowd. Claire projected those emotions back to the spectators. The resulting carnage made quite an impression on the warlords who witnessed it. When they were finished, only the warlords and the two empaths walked away. No one else survived.
From what Reaf heard, Bess, the empath Var went to rescue also wielded great power. He wondered at the wisdom of sending Var to handle a powerful female. Var cared only for duty and rules and punishment for those who failed to follow those rules. Of all of them, Var was the least likely to find a mate, ever. Reaf sensed that Var carried more scars on the inside than he did on the outside.
Koda was reluctant to allow females to be involved in battle. Reaf agreed with him. True, the empaths fought for their right to exist. Still, he did not like the idea of these small females being exposed to the horrors of war no matter how powerful they were. Fighting should be reserved for males, but he had come, he would hear what they wanted of him.
Claire entered and smiled at him.
Reaf knew she probably read his reluctance. Empaths were spooky. The wise person was careful to keep his emotions to himself. If they touched you, they could see all kinds of things you might not want anyone to see.
Koda and Claire’s relationship, on solid ground now, had begun as a volatile disaster.
“Good morning, Reaf,” Claire said. “We are honored that you agreed to work with us. Thank you.”
Reaf nodded and gave a small, formal bow.
Claire smiled at him. She probably meant to reassure him. It did not work.
“We need to learn about your battle tactics, so we will know how our skills may fit into what you do,” she said.
Reaf digested that. “I do not condone females in battle.”
Claire nodded. “I understand that and I respect it. But, we are all fighting for the right to exist. The Conglomerate will steal from you and enslave many, but they will destroy us. The bounty on us will encourage mercenaries to join with them and hunt us.”
She paused. “Would you tell us to wait patiently for death? Or would you help us fight for our lives and those of your people?”
The empath made a good argument. She knew his weaknesses and she did not play fair. He hid a smile as he thought what a perfect match she and Koda made.
Reaf had been alive longer than the others, and his memories of the Great Destruction were still vivid. He knew all too well the ruthlessness of the Conglomerate.
Now the Conglomerate had more trouble than they could deal with in their own society. They needed energy krystiles and Koda refused to trade with them. Reaf thought it fair. The Conglomerate had caused the ruin of many societies, including his, when they denied his people Trade Status years ago.
Now the Conglomerate needed energy, but they had nothing Koda needed, except the empaths. If they ever figured out how much Koda wanted the empaths, things might change for the worse.
And that secret could not remain a secret for long.
The empaths were right, they all fought for their right to exist.
“I will help you,” he said. “What do you want to know?”
Claire smiled again. The empaths asked many questions, and Reaf answered.
Then they discussed their abilities and how best to use them.
He learned a great deal about their capabilities. As the day wore on, he realized they would be assets in the coming war and, while his people excelled at combat, they needed the abilities of the empaths.
While Osiria watched, they stood in a circle and joined hands. Reaf felt the empaths reading him. He experienced no pain and it did not feel particularly invasive. They held back. He wasn’t sure how he knew that, but he did. The empaths respected his privacy and read from him, only the things they needed to know for battle and for their survival.
After they read him, they showed him what they could do. Reaf staggered from the power he saw. It was a good thing the MX were on the side of his people.
***
Walking back to their rooms with Osiria beside him, he told her, “The empaths are right. We are great fighters, but they hold more power than I could have guessed. I fear it will take our combined skills to survive the coming battles.”
“What of this empath Var has gone to collect?”
Reaf smiled at Osiria. “You are still concerned about the little empath Var is rescuing. That is just one more reason I love you. I am proud to have you as my mate. I do not speak of that often enough.”
Osiria turned her troubled eyes to him. “Var has always been broken inside. He never allowed himself to fit in because he did not believe he deserved anything. He blames himself for his mother’s death and does not form close relationships with people because of it. Var has made his life all about being hard and following the letter of the law.” She sighed. “I worry if he will be able to deal with a sensitive and sheltered little empath.”
Reaf’s brows drew together. “I think Var has met his match. He will have his hands full with that one, but I think it may work out very well. If anyone deserves our concern, it is Var.”
Osiria stopped walking as if she needed all her energy to concentrate. He saw the question in her eyes.
“From what I saw of the empaths today, the one Var attempts to bring home to us is very powerful. I think we should worry about Var getting hurt, not the empath.”
Chapter 29
Standing in the road. Bess blinked. It was a dream. She was walking in someone’s dream. No, it was no dream. It was real and she was awake.
In the dream, Amage begged for her life, just as she did now.
Bess sorted through it all. She’d been sleeping. Mack had left them much earlier and Var was checking on the horses. Bess had dreamed and… the dream brought her here.
Amage lay staked out on the ground, crying and hurting just steps in front of her. This was too real.
Myra stood with some men in a circle. Bess knew hurting Amage was at least partly Myra’s idea, but how had Myra known how t
o tap into her dream state and pull her here?
She knelt down to touch Amage’s hand. Her skin crawled when she received a clear view of the damage done to her. Myra had used deceit to get Amage involved in her plan. After Amage was tied and tortured, Myra had whispered that Bess could help her. With that level of pain, Amage had reached out to her. The poor girl didn’t even realize she’d done it, but Myra knew. Bess wanted to slap the smug look off Myra’s face.
Var rode his horse into the circle and pulled it up short in a cloud of dust. The raw emotions churning out of him froze her heart. His expression was set in stone, the firelight enhancing the scars on his face.
Armed riders surrounded them. There were so many! She had sleepwalked to help Amage. Now they were caught in Myra’s trap and it was her fault. Perhaps she should have explained her dream walking gift in more detail to Var.
Myra used the gentle Amage as bait. A man stood behind Bess with a long knife at her throat. “We will take the MX now, warlord.” He spoke to Var.
Bess saw the strung arrows in the bows of the men who surrounded them. There were too many for Var to fight. She touched Var’s hand to share with him the knowledge that Myra betrayed them. She’d never communicated like that with Var.
She pulled up short when the sharp blade touched her throat before Var’s growl stopped her in her tracks.
Var’s light blue eyes pierced her as he whispered. “Do whatever you must to survive until I come for you. I will come.”
She managed a small smile. “I know.”
“You will be hurt if you don’t go with them.” She felt vulnerable without Var’s presence, but she knew she had to go with them else they would hurt Var. And they would hurt her if he made a moved to get her.
A hard hand grabbed her arm and dragged her further away from Var so that she could no longer see him. Staying on her feet required all her attention. “Don’t hurt him!” Bess twisted and screamed.
Two men wearing gloves tied her hands together with rope. “Do not let her touch you,” someone warned.
“Don’t kill him,” the leader told the mounted men. “The king wants him alive.”
They fell on Var then. Like a pack of wild animals, the air filled with grunts, curses, and the sounds of fists hitting flesh. She smelled blood and knew that some of it belonged to Var. In the confusion, she tried to twist away from her captors, but there were four of them and they picked her up and hauled her to a man waiting on a horse.
She felt Var’s pain and cried out.
Var killed some of the attackers and hurt some others. In the end, though, he had been right. He could not overpower so many.
Horses stamped and reared. Men jostled each other. Everyone wanted to subdue the warlord. In the melee, someone grabbed a handful of her hair and pulled her away from the madness of the mob.
The entire time Myra was pelting her with horrible thoughts. That she felt Myra’s delight in the trap she’d set for them was infuriating.
Bess projected. It was ugly. She knew great satisfaction of her own when she tore through Myra’s psyche and reaching into her dreams, pulled out a horrific nightmare. Myra screamed and fell to the ground, blood coming out of her nose and ears. Good, at least she managed to wipe that smirk Myra’s traitorous face.
She turned her concentration to Var and shut everything else down.
The man who held her hair jerked it while the others lifted her up and over. She fought, but ended up face down over the saddle as the rider pulled away from the throng.
She turned, trying to see Var, but too many bodies were in the way. “What are they doing to him?” Her voice sounded raspy. Every stride of the horse knocked the air out of her.
The rider never bothered to answer her.
A group of men surrounded the horse she was on. They rode two by two to a large castle with many outbuildings surrounding it. Heavy wooden gates protected the castle.
The darkness and her position over the back of the horse made it difficult to see, but she thought the structure had three or four floors. It was built of large stone blocks that shone gray in the gloom. Each stone held the pain and suffering of the slaves who cut it and dragged it to this place to assemble. A cold shiver ran up her spine, and she feared she would throw up from the sickness and pain of the place before she shielded against it. Bess shivered, a strong sense of foreboding almost smothered her. Fiery torches lit the castle walls and the disjointed shadows that leapt on the walls reminded her of deformed monsters from a fairy tale. The castle radiated evil.
Thick wooden doors opened and they passed through into a courtyard. The place appeared larger on the inside. After dismounting, they went through a vestibule into a golden gathering room. Iron lamps with many candles hung from the high ceiling. Torches burned in iron sconces that lined the walls. In the center, a circular stone structure held a fire.
The man at her side practically dragged her into the room and led her around the fire toward a man who sat on the throne. How tacky. Yes. Under different circumstances she would be giggling. This gilt chair had to be the gaudiest one in existence. She felt his sense of importance from where she stood.
Bess looked at the large man on the throne. He had dark brown hair that hung limp past his shoulders. His features were coarse and his lips too full for his face. Bess thought he did not rest easy on his throne. He left her standing while he finished whatever he read. Contrived, she thought. He wanted her to see that he had more important things to deal with than her. And he loved the power it gave him to make her wait.
The king’s fingers, like pale sausages, motioned them forward. A belly poked out of the fine fabric of his robe giving him a shiny egg shape. He was so covered in sparkling gems that Bess was sure if he had another one, he would have to hold it in his hand. The dark hair on the backs of his small hands gave her an uneasy feeling. Just because he seemed a fool to her, did not mean he was not dangerous.
When he turned his attention to her, he took his time looking her over. “What have we here?”
The man beside her spoke. “Your plan worked, Sire. We found the warlord where we waited, and took this woman. She has slave markings, but the woman Myra assures us this one is MX.”
“Uncover her, let me see her eyes,” the king demanded.
The man beside Bess jerked the veil from her hair. Tiny, metallic sounds of the pins hitting the floor were swallowed up in the great hall. She heard gasps from the audience when masses of red curls spilled out. When Var held her hair, he got a handful of it and it didn’t hurt like the individual pins this oaf ripped out. Now with her face exposed, she was careful to control her expression as well as her emotions. Instinct told her to show no fear. She looked evenly into the king’s eyes.
“She is a bold one.” The monarch smiled. “Are you one of the eMpaths with eXtra abilities? One of those they call MX?”
“Yes. I am.” Bess had done more than just communicate Myra’s treachery to Var, she had borrowed some of his courage so that her voice was filled with confidence when she answered the king.
The crowd murmured until the king held up a hand for silence.
She sensed another MX nearby. He already had an empath here? Var and his people were collecting empaths, was the king also starting a collection?
“Bow before the king,” the man beside her said. Bess bowed her head and straightened immediately. She was an empath of the Conglomerate. No. Not anymore, but she bowed as a courtesy to their customs.
A small smile touched the lips of the king. “Green eyes and – is that red hair? I have never seen that color. Is that red? It is bright. Touch her skin.”
The man reached for her hand.
“Take your glove off,” the king said.
She knew the man was nervous even without her empath gift as he removed his glove.
Bess allowed him to take her hand. She read that he thought he might go insane from her touch. He tried not to show his fear. There it was, the dream she wanted from the man.
Bess stood still and felt the king’s anger. She’d upstaged him in his own throne room.
“Well, are you insane now?” the king snapped at his guard.
“I am unchanged, my liege.”
“So, the tales of the touch of an empath driving men insane are false.” The king lifted his bulk from the massive throne and descended the steps slowly, his sandaled feet peeking out from under the purple robes he wore. “It makes one wonder what other of your myths are lies. All of them, perhaps?”
He stopped in front of her. “Your wrists show that you are a slave. How did that come to be?”
“I don’t know,” Bess answered.
“Who marked you?”
“The warlord.” She kept her voice even.
“Ah. He tried to hide your identity.” The king smirked. “The warlord is not as crafty as he thinks and certainly no match for a king.” He smiled at his audience before turning his attention back to Bess.
What a pompous peacock! Bess kept her disgust from her face. Many of his people smiled and agreed, even though she felt the negative emotions in the room. She had to work to keep her feelings to herself. This king embodied all that was wrong with the Conglomerate.
“What did the warlord want with you?”
Bess considered that. What did Var want with her? He had gone to a lot of trouble and expense. And all he wanted to do was take her somewhere safe? Everyone in this place would laugh at her if she told that story and a little voice inside asked why she believed it.
“I don’t know what he wanted with me, Sir.”
The king walked around her and took his time looking her over. “Empaths are in great demand,” the king said. “I think you will prove helpful to me. I know you will want to be useful.” His gaze felt dirty on her body. He took his time. “Of course, I expect your full cooperation. It will be much easier for you if you admit my superiority and accept your place as my servant.”
She blocked the flash of anger that tried to blaze out of her. Bess would have known his emotions even if she hadn’t been an empath. The lust was in his eyes.
