by Kay Hooper
Meet with Antonia to discuss the future leadership of Atlantia? Was the whore mad enough to imagine he was that much a fool?
But when the rage faded, Varian considered the matter from another angle. Antonia was, after all, a woman of power. And he’d heard she was still beautiful. He owed it to himself to at least meet her—under the proffered flag of truce, as it were. And if she was still beautiful, well, he might just find out what a woman of power was like in bed.
But she suggested they meet in her city, and there was no way he would agree to that. He sent an alternate suggestion back to her, proposing that they meet in the Old City, where he would conjure an appropriate meeting place from the ruins.
Rather to his surprise, she accepted promptly, and they agreed upon an early afternoon three days away.
Serena and Merlin returned to their gate into time just three days before the end. Merlin was certain that Tremayne, Roxanne, and little Kerry had boarded their ship safely and departed from Atlantis. But, of course, they had no way of knowing if the future had indeed been changed by that, not until they passed through the gate into their own time.
“Assuming we were successful in changing the future,” Serena said as they stood on the mountain’s slope and looked out over Atlantis for a last time, “you’ll continue with my training, won’t you?”
“Of course.”
“And one day, if I’m patient and work really hard, I’ll be just as powerful as you are?”
“Not quite.”
She turned her head toward him. “You said I could become a seventh-degree Master wizard,” she reminded him.
Merlin smiled suddenly, a gleam of humor in his black eyes. “So I did. And I have every faith in your ability to do just that. But what I didn’t tell you is that Nola was wrong about my level. I’m a tenth-degree Master.”
Serena stared at him for a moment, then laughed. “Then I’ll just have to try harder, won’t I?”
“Yes—and I’ll enjoy it very much.” He leaned down and kissed her, then took her hand and turned toward the shimmering rock face that was their gate. He was carrying the box containing his staff under one arm. “Ready?” he said, halting at the gate to look down at her.
“I suppose.” She was almost as nervous as when they had come through the first time. What if they’d failed?
“Serena?”
She looked up at him.
“I love you.”
Very slowly she smiled. “I thought I’d have to wait a few millennia to hear you say that.”
“It’ll be true then, too.” His black eyes were tender. “Whatever happens, I want you to know that I love you with everything inside of me.”
She caught her breath and said shakily, “If … if nothing’s changed and the Council orders you …”
“We’ll find a place for ourselves somewhere,” he assured her. “Somehow. I love you, Serena. I’m not going to lose you, no matter what.”
She lifted her face for his kiss, virtually certain now that she was lit up like a Christmas tree with happiness. “I love you, Richard. I’ve always loved you.”
They looked at each other for a long moment, black eyes and green bottomless with love, their fingers twining tightly together. And then, with the past spread out behind them, they stepped together into the future.
Varian didn’t bother to reconstruct one of the ruined buildings in the Old City; instead, he merely erected a small, plain structure amid the rubble. He gave his creation two rooms that were separated by a closed door, some fragment of shrewdness warning him that Antonia might take offense if she found only a bedchamber awaiting her.
He made the bedchamber inviting, however, with a large and comfortable bed piled high with soft blankets, and a fireplace to provide warmth as well as golden light. In the main room, the one Antonia would first enter, he was more diplomatic, conjuring two comfortable chairs of precisely equal dimensions and setting them across from one another near that room’s fireplace. Then he produced a table on which were a number of delicacies, two pretty jeweled goblets, and a generous flagon of wine.
It was far more trouble than he was accustomed to going to in order to set the scene for seduction, but Varian didn’t begrudge the effort. Ever since he had been confronted by two pairs of wizards his curiosity—and his arousal—had been growing steadily. He’d found no satisfaction with his concubines; all he could think of was the intelligence, fire, and spirit he had seen in Serena, and the delicate beauty of Tremayne’s female. Riding a wizard had become his sole ambition.
He knew himself well enough to be aware that a part of the anticipation he felt lay in the risk: Any woman of power could injure him, and Antonia could quite possibly kill him. But he had thoroughly explored every avenue of sexuality except a coupling snatched from the very jaws of death, and the potential danger of such a ride, he had found, was a more potent aphrodisiac than anything else he’d ever known.
In fact, he’d been forced to hide his swollen arousal by making his trousers more baggy than usual and adding a loose tunic over his shirt. He had briefly considered conjuring a far more regal outfit than he normally wore, but in the end decided he had no need of fine trappings in order to impress anyone. So his shirt and trousers were of everyday quality, and the tunic was merely leather.
He stood by the main room’s single window, gazing out as he waited impatiently for Antonia to arrive. Like the nearby front door, the window was completely open, without glass or shutters; he’d decided they would both feel more relaxed if they weren’t “closed up” during the first tense minutes of their meeting.
It occurred to him that their meeting—most especially if it ended in the bedchamber—could last the remainder of the afternoon and into the night, which meant they’d be caught beneath the Curtain. The whore was accustomed to it, of course, but he wasn’t. He had, years before, descended several times into the valley at night merely to experience the effects, and he had once ridden one of his concubines beneath the Curtain to find out what it was like (incredibly exhausting, it turned out; he hadn’t been himself for days afterward), but otherwise he’d remained on his mountain.
Still, he reminded himself, if he and Antonia were caught here after the sun went down neither of them would be able to use power. And riding a female wizard beneath the Curtain might, after all, prove a different experience, one well worth attempting….
Antonia arrived nearly an hour later, leaving only a few hours of daylight for their meeting. As agreed, she was alone; if any of her Sentinels had accompanied her, they were to wait at the outskirts of the Old City unless and until they were summoned to attend their Leader. She approached Varian’s new building with a brisk and confident step, and he watched from the window as she followed the path among the ruins.
He was pleased by her red hair, having forgotten she was one of the rare redheads of Atlantia, and the graceful vitality of her slender body certainly belied her years; he knew she was roughly his own age, but she certainly didn’t look it—at least from a distance. She, too, wore plain clothing, a shapeless robe over a white shift, belted to hint at her slim waist, the colors drab. But that hair … Bright red, long, thick, and unbound, it was all the color she required to present a vibrant appearance.
Varian stepped back into the center of the room, his gaze on the wide, open doorway, absently adjusting his tunic to better disguise his arousal. He adopted a relaxed, unthreatening posture, arms hanging loose at his sides as he stood squarely on both feet.
Antonia entered the building, halting several feet from Varian. Her blue eyes studied him, and her expression was somewhat detached without being especially unfriendly. She even smiled slightly when she spoke in a cool but curiously intense voice.
“Hello, Varian. Thank you for agreeing to meet with me. I’m sure neither of us will regret it.”
He bowed slightly. “Anything to keep the peace, Antonia. I have every faith in our ability to come to some understanding. Shall we sit down?”
She went to the chair he indicated while he went to the other, both of them smiling and courteous and guarded. Varian was a bit disappointed to discover she looked nearer her age now that she was closer to him, but that didn’t change his state of arousal. He’d been less excited by the thought of riding a beautiful woman than by the thought of riding a female wizard, so a few frown lines and the slight roughening of the skin hardly mattered to him. Besides, her body, though slender, was certainly voluptuous enough to suit him.
He poured wine for both of them (she seemed pleased by the jeweled goblets, just as he’d expected; even the most lofty of females enjoyed pretty things), and for a time they merely sipped the wine, sampled a few of the delicacies, and talked politely about neutral topics—though there were few enough of those once the deplorable condition of Atlantia’s groundwater and the upsetting tremors had been discussed.
When the first silence fell, Antonia broke it with a smile and a matter-of-fact statement. “You know, of course, that Atlantia cannot survive under the present conditions.”
“I suppose not. But we have attained a kind of harmony, wouldn’t you agree?” He returned her smile, leaning back in his chair, with his legs extended and spread apart.
“Not so much harmony as an armed respite,” she disagreed in a polite tone. “You males keep to your mountains for the most part, we females cling to our city—and our society grows ever more shattered.”
“What do you suggest?” he inquired lazily, only one hand moving as he held his goblet and swirled the red liquid inside around and around rhythmically.
Antonia set her goblet on the table at her elbow and folded her hands in her lap, studying him. She had been a little disappointed at first; he was rougher and coarser than she’d expected, with none of Merlin’s grace or elegance—or strength. Though Varian was tall and solidly muscled, and his thick hair was the deepest shade of black, he seemed to her like a drawing of beauty and power that had been rubbed and smudged by an unkind hand. Lines of dissipation marked his handsome face, a certain heaviness hung about the jowls, and his black eyes were not liquid but were as hard and dull as two pieces of coal.
Still … there was something about him she found exciting. Physically, she found him quite compelling. The lacings of his shirt were loosened, revealing a riotously hairy chest that kept drawing her gaze, and his slumped posture was curiously provocative.
Antonia had concealed her own sexuality, wrapping herself in layers of calm, but as she went on talking to him she slowly, carefully, allowed that part of her to surface and begin probing toward him. Wary after the mistake she’d made with Merlin—moving much too quickly and bluntly—she intended this time to take things slowly. After all, it was hours yet until darkness fell.
“I suggest we try working together,” she said pleasantly. “It won’t be easy at first, but I believe Atlantia can only benefit. I’m sure we can devise a series of laws, for instance, to protect both men and women of power and enable us to live and work together as we did in the old days.”
“The other males like living atop the mountains,” Varian murmured. “I doubt they’ll be easily persuaded to change at this late date.” Her eyes, he thought, were lovely. Like the one still-pure lake left in Atlantia, blue and clear and seemingly bottomless.
“I’m sure you could persuade them to at least listen.”
“Perhaps—though I’d probably be more successful at using force rather than persuasion.” Had he thought her skin rough? Odd. She had the complexion of a much younger woman, he decided, translucent and silky in appearance. Just a touch of color, of inner heat …
Antonia smiled. “However you … command them … the means can be justified if our goal is reached.”
“Assuming we agree on the goal.” Her mouth was remarkably erotic, Varian thought, watching it move as she spoke and listening to the words with only minimal attention. The lips were red and full and moist, conjuring images in his mind of how they would feel and look touching various parts of his body, trailing across his skin …
“We can discuss what we mean to do,” Antonia said in a pleasant tone, and smoothly went on doing just that. Advancing suggestions on how they might repair the damages to their society, by either bringing the males down into the valley or allowing the females into the mountains. The latter made more sense as their removal from the valley might well cause the Curtain to disperse once and for all. Putting forth her ideas for new laws, for standards of behavior, for ways in which the men and women of power might work together.
As the sun sank lower and lower in the western sky, Antonia talked softly, explaining her ideas not because she expected him to approve of her plans but simply to fill the silence as she slowly exposed her potent carnality to him in the urgent bid to seduce him. She intended to rule him completely, to chain him and dominate him with silken bonds of lust, and to that end she worked subtly to fill him with a burning desire for her.
Only for her.
Her one experience lay in the brief encounter with Merlin, and from that Antonia had drawn one dangerously false conclusion. She assumed that in order to dominate a male sexually, it was necessary to light the fires of lust as well as provide a steady supply of fuel to maintain the blaze. Because she had found Merlin so cool to her, and because he had been able to resist her, her manipulation of Varian was as intense as it was subtle. She poured everything she had into the attempt, never realizing that all males were different, and that, for this particular male, filling his mind with erotic thoughts and his body with carnal sensations was like pouring oil on an inferno. The result—a conflagration she would have no hope of controlling once it burst its bounds.
Varian responded with nods, grunts, and other signs of agreement and/or interest—and he never took his eyes off her. Antonia was exciting herself as well as him, reveling in her sense of dominance as much as she was anticipating the experience of joining with him. Her body was hot and throbbing, there was an unfamiliar wetness between her thighs, and her nipples had tightened so much in a way that was painful. Exquisitely painful. Even her voice had become husky, the sound of it far more important than the words it spoke.
She didn’t know how much time had passed, but the light pouring in the front door had faded quite a bit when she finally allowed her voice to trail into silence. His eyes glittered, his face was sharp and almost hollow-cheeked as if with mortal hunger, and his slow breathing was audible. He was very still.
Enjoying the building of lust, Antonia decided to draw it out even more. She rose languidly from her chair and went to the window. The sun was down, and the first wisps of the Curtain were swirling over the valley.
Sharp disappointment lanced through her. She’d had no intention of remaining here after dark. Once the Curtain fell, she’d be unable to use her powers and he would no longer be under the spell she had so carefully created. She wouldn’t be able to control him, to completely dominate him. He might hurt her, and that was a risk she was unwilling to take. Much better to leave now, even if she had to begin all over again tomorrow …
“I must go,” she murmured. “Perhaps we can meet again tomorrow and continue?”
An odd, hoarse sound came from Varian, and even as she half turned from the window, he was striding across the room toward her. Antonia instinctively lifted a hand, but he was already there, his much larger hands grasping her wrists painfully, and his voice was like a growl.
“Go? What are you talking about, whore? You aren’t going anywhere—except to my bed if we make it that far …”
Shocked and incensed by the blunt words and rough handling, Antonia found herself hauled against his hard body as he tried to kiss her. His mouth—disgustingly wet—slid over her cheek and sharp teeth nipped at her bottom lip before she could jerk her head to one side.
“Stop that! Let go of me!”
“You want it, whore, you know you do. You’ve been licking your lips for the last hour,” he muttered, trying to hold the back of her head to keep her still.<
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Neither of them noticed the fine sparks that showered to the floor all around them, signs of building energy escaping its bounds.
Antonia gasped when one of his hands closed over her breast and squeezed roughly, and she struggled to get one hand free to slap him. The blow held her normal physical strength as well as other energy, and more sparks flew.
“No!” She hit him again, this time with pure energy, and though his body flinched his eyes burned hot with intent.
“A whore in my bed, that’s what I want,” Varian told her with a harsh laugh. “Spread her legs and ride her, haughty bitch. Insolent whore.” He was yanking at her robe, trying to pull the skirt up while attempting to get a knee between her legs. “I’ll have you—”
She hit him with another bolt of energy and instantly, fiercely, he returned the blow even as he was rubbing himself against her. Antonia staggered, but a snarl, almost a howl, of frustration, rage, and defeat erupted from her mouth. He was utterly, completely out of her control, mad with lust, and she knew she had lost her gamble.
He was bent on taking what she had dangled before him, by force if necessary and no matter how much both of them suffered for it. He would never be swayed by reason, never be turned back by anything she could do or say. Her only choice was to fight him, even though she knew with a hollow certainty how it would end …
“I’ll have you,” he repeated thickly, holding her buttocks to grind himself harder against her.
“No!” she shrieked, loosing bolts of her power and not flinching when she felt the heat of them herself. The jolts pushed him back a bit, but he still had hold of her and his eyes were molten now, blind and inhuman.
“You’re mine!” he roared, his power beginning to form an aura that was hot white and shot with streaks of pure black—energy so intense it emitted no light at all.
Antonia shrieked again, this time in pain as well as fury, and her hands were grasping now, clawing at his clothing, raking across skin.
“Never,” she panted, her eyes going unfocused as she reached for the farthest limits of her powers …