by Kay Hooper
Tremayne stopped several feet away and stared at her with a hunger that was alien to everything she knew and yet awoke sensations in her body she instinctively understood, however much they shocked her. For a moment he seemed unsure what to say. When he did speak, his voice was abrupt but not hard or harsh. “What in hell are you doing leaving the city this late in the day?”
Roxanne lifted her chin and fought inwardly to hold her voice steady. “Sanctuary is not a prison.”
“I know that.” He was impatient now, frowning, but his eyes were still darkened with more primitive feelings. “But it’s afternoon now. You could be caught out here when the Curtain falls and be in danger.”
“I know I’ll be outside the city tonight, it’s unavoidable.” She didn’t know why she was telling him this. “I have to cross the valley.”
“The only thing on the other side of the valley is the village.”
“Yes. It is.”
“Why do you have to go there?”
Her chin lifted another inch, and the blue eyes flashed. “Not that it’s any of your business, but my mother lives there.”
Was she being truthful? Or had she given herself enough time to heal from what had been done to her and meant now to find the men who had attacked her? Tremayne hesitated, every instinct warning him not to admit to having knowledge of what had happened to her; if she wanted him to know, she would tell him herself. Before he could say anything, she was going on, her voice soft but not at all weak.
“Wherever I choose to go is my own concern. If you’ll excuse me, I have a great deal of ground to cover.”
She made as if to walk past him, giving him a wide berth, but Tremayne turned with her and fell into step. “I haven’t seen the village yet except from a distance.”
Roxanne didn’t stop walking or look at him, but her fingers tightened around the walking stick. “I don’t believe I invited you to accompany me.”
“If I waited for that, I’ve a feeling I should grow old and crotchety before I heard it,” he said a bit dryly.
She nearly smiled, but they had reached the forest, and she knew the Sentinels at the gate would soon lose sight of them. Did she really want to be alone in the valley with this male? Even if he seemed different from the other male wizards, a difference that roused strange feelings inside her, and even if Serena and Merlin’s odd relationship made such a thing at least imaginable, could she afford the risk?
A part of her wanted to take the risk; but it was impossible, her mind kept insisting. Even if their trip across the valley was peaceful, he was bound to interfere with what she had to do, and the last thing she wanted was to be forced to fight him.
“Roxanne?”
“I don’t need your company,” she said carefully, refusing to look at him. He was an arm’s length away from her side, yet she was overwhelmingly conscious of him, tall and powerful and a wizard. She should be afraid of him, yet she wasn’t….
“You will when the Curtain falls,” he said matter-of-factly. “If I’m with you when any of the village men see you at night, they’ll assume you’re my concubine.”
“I belong to no man,” she said, her intense voice so low, it was almost a whisper.
“I know that, Roxanne. But what’s the harm of protecting yourself with a bit of deception? Come, allow me to travel with you, please.”
“You ask for too much. I don’t know you, but I know what you are, and I have no reason to trust that.”
Tremayne was silent for several steps, then said, “At night both of us are unable to use our powers in the valley, and during the day you could injure me as easily as I could injure you; I would say the risk you run in trusting me is a lesser danger than the one you face from the village men. I wish only to be with you, Roxanne. Can’t you accept that?”
She was silent.
Still Tremayne felt hopeful. She hadn’t said no, after all. He kept his voice easy and neutral. “We should be able to cross the valley and return in two or three days, don’t you agree?”
After a moment she said, “That is … the usual time it takes for the trip.”
He managed not to yell in triumph and was even able to speak calmly. “Good. Is your mother expecting you?”
“No, though I usually try to visit every few weeks.” Roxanne felt guilty as soon as she spoke, but the feeling didn’t prevent her from lying to him.
“You plan to be in the village only during the day, of course.”
“Of course.”
Tremayne thought about it for a moment, then frowned. “Your mother is powerless?”
“Yes.”
He looked quickly at her delicate profile, finding her expression a bit tense but composed. “Then your father is a wizard?”
Guarded blue eyes met his briefly. “Yes,” she replied in a flat little voice. “Though, of course, he knows nothing of my existence. If he had known, I would have been killed at birth like all his other female oftspring.”
Tremayne felt a sudden shock, a peculiar certainty that might have been psychic. “Roxanne … who is your father?”
Her smile was filled with a terrible irony. “Your host and kinsman, Tremayne. Varian is my father.”
The male guards and female wizard Sentinels were so astonished when Roxanne walked off with a male wizard that they were drawn several steps away from the gate as they looked after the shocking pair. That was how Kerry was able to slip through the gate and out of the city unnoticed.
On her back she carried a small pack that matched Roxanne’s, and she walked with a stick that, also like Roxanne’s, was nearly as tall as she was. She managed not to giggle and give her presence away as she snuck out behind the guards and Sentinels, but she was so excited, she could hardly bear it, and nearly danced with delight. In all her eight years, she had never been allowed far enough from the city to lose sight of the gate, and then never alone.
She hadn’t been sure she could sneak out when Roxanne left, since children were never allowed out alone, but Tremayne’s appearance had provided the distraction that had made her escape possible. And it was an even better game to follow Roxanne when she was with that tall male wizard with the smiling eyes and kind voice. He would tell her more about the sea beyond this valley’s mountains; she just knew he would.
And Roxanne wouldn’t be too awful mad, surely. After all, Kerry could take care of herself. She had a good sense of direction, she knew how to conjure something simple to eat if she got hungry, she was real good at conjuring fresh water for drinking and mirrors from sand, in case one became necessary, and she had Chloe in her backpack for company.
She slipped into the woods slightly north of Sanctuary’s walls and made sure the trees screened her from sight of anyone standing near the gate, then she turned west in the general direction the other two had taken and marched on happily, wondering where Roxanne was going.
The morning air was a bit chilly even after the sun came up, but to Serena it felt good. Still, after she’d followed the stream a few yards and found a level place on the mountainside with a wide, deep pool suitable for bathing, she murmured a quick spell to warm the water to near body temperature to make the bath more enjoyable.
She stepped out of her slippers, then unbuckled her loose belt and dropped it to the bank. She wrestled the robe up over her head and tossed it aside with a sigh of relief; even though Merlin had lined the garment in silk, it was still the bane of her existence—heavy, shapeless, and making every move she made look and feel awkward. The white shift was better, though not by much; it, too, was shapeless, but it was thin, light, and rather silky to the touch. In Sanctuary she’d gotten used to sleeping in it. She drew it up over her head and dropped the garment to the ground, baring her body completely to the chilly, damp morning air.
The net confining her hair was quickly and easily unfastened and discarded, and Serena shook out the long, fiery tresses, running her fingers through them and briefly massaging her scalp. Then she stepped down into the warm water, wading
out slowly to the center of the pool. There the water was just deep enough so that when she sat on a flat rock she absently conjured for a seat, it covered her breasts and nearly her shoulders.
She tipped her head back and splashed water on her hair until it was thoroughly wet, then conjured a dollop of her favorite shampoo. Even as she lathered her hair, she couldn’t help smiling as she remembered how puzzled Merlin had been when she had carefully memorized the chemical composition of the shampoo.
“Why do you want to conjure shampoo?” he’d asked.
“I don’t. But you never know when I might,” she had answered blithely.
He’d only shaken his head when she had also memorized the chemical compositions of various other things, including conditioner, her favorite soap, and selected perfumes and cosmetics, but Serena was definitely grateful now to vanity or whatever other motive had urged her to do so.
She luxuriated in her large bathtub, washing and conditioning her hair, then stood up to soap her body from head to toe. After that she just sat on her rock, her clean hair floating about her in the warm, fragrant water, while she moved her arms languidly through it and looked around at her surroundings.
Even up here it was ugly. The trees were taller than those down in the valley, but they were twisted and bore leaves of weird shapes and colors. There wasn’t much grass, just a blue-green moss that was thick and not attractive, and most of the area was rock. The rising sun painted the stone with faint gleams of iridescent color as it touched bits of quartz and mica, but even that didn’t improve them very much.
The raw look of the stone reminded her that it probably was new, forced up to the surface as Atlantis twitched and heaved in its death throes. She wondered idly if one of the almost-daily earthquakes would open up a fissure to drain her nice bathtub, and grimaced at the thought. It was a necessary but unwelcome reminder of how unstable this place was. All of a sudden she wanted to go back to their camp and Merlin. But before she could get up, she heard a twig snap nearby, and turned her head slowly as the hair on the back of her neck quivered a warning.
“Well, well, well,” Varian said, hands on his hips and feet braced wide as he grinned across the water at her. “Did Merlin roll you around in the dirt instead of providing a decent bed, bitch?”
“My name,” she said evenly, “is Serena.” The strongest reaction she had to this wizard was disgust and anger at being called a bitch.
He bowed slightly, mockingly, and responded in a hatefully soothing voice. “Serena, then. Shall I join you? It’s always nice to have someone to wash your back.”
“No, thank you. I would as soon share my bath with a herd of muddy cattle, six pigs, three disturbed skunks, and a few poisonous snakes.”
His eyebrows went up, and he laughed. “Such an image of depraved and debauched desires, my sweet.”
Serena felt her mouth twist in loathing. Naturally he would put a sexual connotation to whatever she said. Merlin had been right; Varian was the most amazingly libidinous creature. A bit fiercely she said, “What I meant is that even filthy, stinking, and poisonous animals would be preferable to you. Would you mind leaving now?”
He was smiling. “I’m going to enjoy taming you, Serena, no matter how long it takes. But you needn’t fear—I never abuse my bitches. No, you’ll be willing, and when you scream out in pleasure as I ride you, you’ll be grateful that I decided to mark you as mine.”
Silently Serena lifted one hand and pointed to the small, scarlet heart at the base of her throat, which she was constantly aware of.
Varian shrugged dismissively. “Do you think that’s going to stop me?” He made a slight and not very graceful gesture with one hand.
The gurgle of moving water became louder, and Serena looked over to find that the narrow place where her pool spilled over this small basin and continued down the mountainside had been opened up, not by an earthquake but by Varian; the water level was sinking rapidly.
For a moment she considered going on with the charade of powerlessness, but Varian’s arrogance made her so mad that all she thought about was taking him down a peg or two. So he thought she was virtually helpless, unable to withstand his powers or his supposed skills as a stud? So he thought she was just going to sit here meekly while the draining water left her naked and exposed to his greedy eyes?
Like hell she would.
Her discarded clothing lay on the bank some feet from Varian, but Serena ignored the garments—she was sick of them anyway. Instead she decided it was time to change her appearance.
Of course, being Serena and being mad as hell, she brought about her transformation with a bit of theatrical flair.
It was a relief to rip away the mask Merlin had so carefully taught her to hide her powers behind, and as she gazed across the water at Varian, she had the distinct pleasure of watching his face drain of color as her power became something he could now sense. She smiled at him gently and performed the impressive trick of altering her environment.
Before the sinking water level exposed her breasts, the pool began to churn and bubble. Within seconds a whirlpool circled Serena, the frothy white water easily hiding her body from Varian’s stunned gaze. She conjured a few gusts of wind to blow her loose hair about dramatically, and with slow grandeur she rose from the center of the whirlpool perfectly dry and dressed like no other woman in Atlantis.
Fawn-color trousers, tight enough to cling to every curve, were tucked into knee-high boots. A fawn-color vest that snugly shaped her small waist and generous breasts was belted in place over a full-sleeved blouse, which was tightly cuffed at her wrists, and was silky and pale green. Over it all was a rich fur cloak around her shoulders that was loosely fastened by a thin gold chain with a round emerald on either clasp.
While Varian gaped in shock, Serena strolled across the churning water to the bank several feet away from him. (She’d always wanted to walk on water, but had never gotten the chance.) As soon as she touched land, the pool quieted and continued to drain rapidly down the mountain.
Hands on hips, she faced him with a tiny smile.
“A woman of power,” he almost whispered.
Serena mocked him with just the sort of half bow he had used earlier. “That’s right. Merlin isn’t the only wizard of Seattle, you see—so am I.”
“No—you’re his property—”
“The hell I am. Where we come from, Varian, women don’t belong to men—wizard or powerless.”
“You bear his mark.”
Before Serena could respond, Merlin’s quiet voice sounded behind her.
“To protect her, Varian, in case she was caught outside Sanctuary at night.”
Serena turned her head and watched Merlin walk toward her. For a moment she forgot everything except the need to sense if her earlier attempt to heal him had been successful. He looked the same, she thought, though perhaps there was less strain in his features and a certain thoughtful quiet in the liquid darkness of his eyes.
But was there an open door to permit him to heal? She couldn’t tell.
He reached her side and looked her up and down deliberately. “Nice outfit.”
“Thank you. Sorry about dropping the charade without discussing it first, but this … this moronic bastard made me crazy.”
“I figured he would eventually,” Merlin admitted to her in a rather dry tone, and turned his gaze to the still frozen Varian. Politely he told the older wizard, “She is indeed a woman of power, Varian. A female wizard. A rather talented one, as a matter of fact.”
“How is it possible you travel together?” Varian asked in a voice that cracked slightly.
Serena waited for Merlin to answer, curious to know how he would. He had been careful when they’d first arrived, only observing, reluctant to do anything else, including providing information unknown to these people. But she had the feeling that he was now perfectly willing to shock Varian, and she didn’t blame him one bit.
Lifting an eyebrow, Merlin feigned puzzlement. “Why wo
uld it be impossible? Surely you don’t believe Atlantis is the center of the universe, governing the rest of the world in all ways, including customs between men and women? No, Varian, outside this twisted little kingdom of yours is an entirely different world. Serena and I travel together because we wish it. We’ve been together for years.”
“She’s your concubine?” Varian demanded hoarsely.
Softly Merlin said, “No. My mate.”
Already surprised by the out-of-character way he seemed to be taunting the other wizard, Serena nearly gasped at Merlin’s words. She had the odd feeling he meant it, that whatever else he said, that statement was truthful, and she didn’t dare look up at him, because she was afraid she wouldn’t be able to control her expression.
Luckily, Varian was too shocked himself to notice her wonder. He stood stiffly, staring at them, his armor of arrogance certainly dented—if not split wide open—by this living, breathing impossibility even he, in his wildest sexual fantasies, had seldom considered attainable.
If he had stopped to think at all, he never would have risked himself, but he had the confused impression of a threat they represented to his vision of the world, and it was characteristic of him that he struck out to protect himself, roaring in a kind of dumb animal fury.
The stream of energy that shot from his outstretched hand was white-hot and aimed accurately to strike both Serena and Merlin, a target made easier since they were standing so close to each other. Swifter than thought, both of them lifted a hand, acting instinctively and in concert to block and then repel the destructive energy.
What happened then—should not have. Both Merlin and Varian knew that; Serena had no idea, simply because she had never considered what was likely to happen if the energy stream of two wizards—let alone three—collided, and because she had never been called on to defend herself against another wizard.
What happened was visible to all of them in the heartbeats granted them to ponder. The separate energy streams of Merlin and Serena—his white-hot and hers tinted the searing blue of the base of a flame—met scant inches from their outstretched hands and twined together in an almost sensuous motion, forming a single ropelike shaft of living, writhing power. It sliced through Varian’s energy stream like the steel hull of a battleship slicing through water, struck him midchest with an audible craaack, and knocked him thirty feet down the mountain slope.