Fire Pearl (Beyond Ontariese 5)

by Cyndi Friberg

  She released a quiet sigh, not wanting to reveal her anxiety. The longer he believed she was accepting this without protest the better her chances were that she could surprise him with an escape.

  “What makes you think I need protection?” And why hadn’t he answered her question?

  “I see fear in your eyes.” He reached for her hand. She snatched it away. “Perhaps my information will put you at ease.” With a flick of his wrist, he conjured a translucent crystal and handed it to her. “Hold it up to the light. Your father’s likeness is captured in the disk. His name was Vee. He was my apprentice.”

  Tension wound through her, tightening muscles and spreading apprehension. A lifetime of teaching surged to the surface, compounding her agitation. He commanded magic with effortless ease, obviously used to the benefits of his power. Sorcerers were corrupt and cruel. Every Rodyte knew they couldn’t be trusted.

  Not wanting to upset him, she looked through the crystal and saw a man with long white hair. At first glance he appeared old, yet his features were ageless. Wisdom shone in his bright green eyes and his expression was solemn, almost sad.

  “You said his name was Vee.” Lowering her hand, she rested the crystal in her lap. “Is that why you came looking for me? Did he mention me in his will or something?” The question made her want to laugh. What rich man would claim a space pet’s bastard?

  “In a way. His death was sudden, but he sensed it approaching and made arrangements for your rescue. You will never want for anything again. I will see to it.”

  “Right.” She did laugh then. It was all so preposterous, she couldn’t help herself. “You’re a kindhearted stranger sent by the father I never knew to whisk me away to a life filled with happiness and security. Oh wait, can I be a princess too?”

  He chuckled and held out his hand. She passed the crystal back to him. “I’ll have to check the Wisdom of the Ages. I’m not sure what your title will be.”

  She tried to relax. He was clearly crazy. She just hoped he was the harmless kind of crazy, the easily outwitted kind. “How long have you been looking for me? How did you know where to look?” Had he sent the dreams intentionally or had they formed some sort of unconscious link when she teleported to Earth? It was hard to think of him as a stranger when she’d spent so many nights observing random snippets of his life.

  “This is where the story gets complicated. As I said, I trained your father, but he was far more than a pupil to me. He was perhaps the best friend I ever had, and I’ve had many.” His lips pressed together and pain flashed through his gaze. If she hadn’t been watching him so closely, she never would have seen the fleeting change. There was still a chance he was a brilliant actor, but a bit of her suspicion eased. “After Vee left Bilarri, he went to Ontariese and founded the Conservatory. He wanted to create a training facility where Mystics could flourish regardless of political affiliation or socioeconomic standing.”

  It was obvious he believed every word. Were delusions always so detailed? “That’s a noble ambition, but why did he go to another planet to set it up? Would the people of Bilarri have opposed his ideas?” She wasn’t sure she should play in to his lunacy, but she wasn’t sure what else to do.

  “Everyone on Bilarri can manipulate magic, so political neutrality is moot. But that’s not why your father left.” He lifted one of the three decorative braids. “This is how I met Vee.”

  “He was a hairdresser?” His gaze flew to hers and tension spiked for an instant, then he broke out in warm, rich laughter. She should probably suppress her smartass tendencies until she found out exactly what he wanted.

  “These are familial braids. They honor my wives and the children who resulted from each union.”

  “You have three wives?” She wasn’t sure why she was surprised. Polygamy was a common practice in many societies. It shouldn’t matter if he had a harem filled with eager women, yet something inside her rebelled. She’d seen his face, felt his hands grasping her hips as he filled her again and again. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she’d hoped this would eventually lead to that soft pile of furs. Even lunatics needed sex and she’d ached for a little affection longer than she could remember. Besides, if he fell into an exhausted sleep after fulfilling her fantasies, it would be the perfect time to slip away before this turned ugly.

  He brushed the backs of his fingers along her jaw, a faint smile curving his lips. “Does the thought of my wives upset you?”

  “No.” She tried to turn away, but he pushed his fingers into her hair and closed them into a loose fist. Though he wasn’t hurting her, pride insisted she grab his wrist.

  Leaning toward her, he brought his face mere inches from hers. His moist breath wafted across her lips, his gaze hot and consuming. “I don’t believe you.” With just the tip of his index finger, he circled her nipple. She squirmed, unsure if she was trying to avoid his touch or increase the pressure. “If you’ll be honest, I’ll release you. If releasing you is what you want.”

  Did she want him to release her, or would she rather feel his mouth moving over hers? Desire had been simmering within her for the past ten months. Seeing his face in the mirror had fanned the spark into flame. Maybe a kiss would ease— Not if he was married three times over!

  “Honesty buys you the choice. Release or reward.”

  “The idea of any man having more than one wife is upsetting to me.” He smiled and moved his finger to her other nipple. She tugged against his wrist and his fingers tightened in her hair. This was clearly a battle of wills and her body was fighting on his side. Would he cup her breast if she continued to resist? Would he kiss her with the explosive passion she’d sensed in her vision?

  It didn’t matter! She couldn’t let her neglected body distract her from her purpose—escape.

  “Do you want me to kiss you? Is that why you’re provoking me?”

  She didn’t know what the hell she wanted. That was the problem. Her body burned, aching to be overwhelmed, yet her brain knew it was foolish, perhaps dangerous to continue down this path.

  “The thought of your wives bothers me,” she relented, “but I don’t know why it should. I know nothing about you.” So much for honesty. She knew far more about him than he realized, far more than she cared to admit.

  He pressed his mouth over hers just long enough for the silken heat to register then he eased back. “Bilarrians mate for life. I have outlived three wives.” His fingers slipped from her hair and he pushed to his feet. “Vee was one of the guards who accompanied my first wife from Rodymia.”

  Breathless and rattled, Aria stood as well. He’d just revealed a glimpse of his dark side. If she challenged him or displeased him, he’d force his will upon her. Just like she’d been taught, just like her mother warned. She had to be careful, had to seem cooperative, even submissive. That’s what he expected, what every sorcerer wanted.

  Focus on the wild story. Figure out what Drakkin wants from you. “My father was Rodyte?”

  “Your father was the son of an Ontarian slave and a Rodyte soldier. He had no idea he had Mystic abilities until he came to Bilarri.”

  “The Bilarrians and the Rodytes are enemies. Why did you agree to marry a Rodyte?”

  “It was a political union negotiated by my father.” He clasped his hands behind his back and faced her. “How much do you know about the conflict between Bilarri and Rodymia?”

  She licked her lips. They still tingled from his brief kiss. How much more intense would it be if he kissed her for real, unleashed the— She had to stop thinking about sex. Drakkin hadn’t whisked her away for a romantic weekend. He’d kidnapped her for reasons she still didn’t understand.

  If he wanted a history lesson, she’d oblige him. “The Rodytes were driven out by the Bilarrians thousands of years ago. They were imprisoned on a remote planet because of their inability to manipulate magic.”

  Amusement lit his gaze as he turned away. He walked to a small table near the tent’s opening, where a pitcher and two cup
s awaited him. After filling the cups with water, he returned to her side. “That’s accurate from the Rodyte perspective, I suppose.” He handed her one of the cups and took a sip from the other. “They’ve conveniently left out the fact they were annihilating everyone who could manipulate magic, but let’s move on. While the Rodytes were ‘imprisoned’ on their remote planet, two separate groups emerged. One was determined to multiply as quickly as possible, advance their technology and finish what they’d begun before the exile. The other group saw the ‘imprisonment’ as an opportunity to develop and prosper without Bilarrian interference.”

  “What does this have to do with Vee?” All these facts were making her restless. She wanted to shake him and demand that he get to the point.

  “By the time the militant Rodytes broke through the planetary shield, the peaceful Rodytes realized it was crucial that they distinguish themselves from their warlike brothers. Their leader approached the Bilarrian government and negotiated a treaty.”

  “Your marriage was part of this treaty?” At least the tangent was starting to make sense. His thoughts seemed remarkable well organized for a madman.

  “Yes. Benita and I had been married just over a year when she was murdered by a Shadow Assassin.”

  “What is a Shadow Assassin?”

  “A Mystic mercenary trained in stealth and brutality. They were used extensively during Ontarian’s Great Conflict.” He paused for a moment. She wasn’t sure if he was sifting through unpleasant memories or refocusing his lies. They had drifted a bit off course. “Vee should have returned to Rodymia after Benita’s death, but I’d sensed his potential and offered to train him.”

  “And when his training was complete, he chose to explore his mother’s world rather than return to Rodymia.” They were finally back to Vee, her ‘”father”.

  “Exactly.”

  It was time to start pointing out the flaws in his scheme. “How old are you? The man in the crystal appeared ancient, yet you were his mentor.”

  “I’m not technically immortal. I can be killed, but my ability to heal and regenerate tissue ensures my longevity. I have lived about ten times longer than most Bilarrians.”

  “Are we talking hundreds or thousands of years?” Wow, when he’d constructed his delusion he’d put some serious effort into it.

  “I have seen eighteen hundred and seventy-three years.”

  “Damn,” Aria muttered, quickly hiding her disbelieving smirk. “No wonder you’ve outlived three wives.” She wrapped both hands around her cup and returned to her chair. Poking holes in his fantasy world hadn’t helped much. She needed to stop distracting him or they’d never get through the tale. “Back to Vee.”

  “He was murdered by a rogue Ontarian who had teamed up with the Rodytes. The Rodyte agenda hasn’t changed much over the years. They’re still determined to destroy anyone who can manipulate magic, so they’ve fostered a similar resentment in Ontarians who lack Mystic abilities.”

  She stared down into her cup, watching light reflect off the surface of the water. What if Drakkin wasn’t crazy? A shiver skipped down her spine. This seemed like an incredible amount of detail for a flight of fancy. Maybe there was a kernel of truth in his rambling story. It was certainly possible that some big-shot Mystic left his bastard growing in a space pet. Why should she care if he was dead? He’d obviously been ashamed of her or he would have contacted her before his death. Unless…

  Afraid of the hope flickering to life within her heart, she looked at Drakkin. “How long has he known about me?”

  His brow knitted and he set his empty cup aside. “He wasn’t able to leave us much information. We know the Rodytes were using you to control him.”

  “That’s ridiculous.” The hope sputtered out before she could enjoy its warmth. “I know for a fact he’s not the only Mystic to utilize the services of a space pet. It couldn’t have caused that much of a scandal.”

  Drakkin strolled toward her, his expression cautious. “Now I’m confused. What does this have to do with space pets?”

  And his house of cards comes tumbling down. “You really don’t have a lot of information, do you?” She set the cup on the floor and shot to her feet, too agitated to sit. “My mother was a pleasure servant. Excluding the occasional space station and my brief stay on Earth, I’ve spent my entire life aboard ships.”

  “Of course,” he muttered, staring past her as he rambled on. “It would make you almost impossible to find. You were continually in motion.”

  She shook her head, finally feeling like she had some control of the conversation. “Space pets are required to register each time they switch ships. Anytime he wanted to find me, all he had to do was check the register. You’ll never convince me he was searching for me all these years.”

  “It’s brilliant, really. The easiest way to keep you from trying to escape was for you not to realize you were a prisoner.”

  “Are we having the same conversation?” Her voice rose right along with her emotions. He hadn’t backed down from the obvious flaws in his ridiculous story. How could he remain so calm when she’d just proved him wrong? “I was never a prisoner. My mother was a pleasure servant.” She stopped herself before admitting how close she’d come to following in her mother’s footsteps. He didn’t need to know all the sordid details of her past.

  “Where is she now?” He sounded downright menacing. “I need to speak with her.”

  “She died four years ago.”

  He accepted the news with a stiff nod. “How did you end up on Earth?”

  “Apparently Daddy’s genes finally kicked in. I had this bizarre surge of… It’s hard to explain. I heard voices and saw images, and then I was sucked into a vortex very much like the one you used to bring us here.”

  “You spontaneously teleported?”

  “Isn’t that what I just said?” She flipped her hair out of her eyes and turned away from him. All his talk of planetary treaties and magic powers made her meager life seem all the more shoddy and she still didn’t understand what he wanted from her.

  Pulling the crystal disk from the pocket of his pants, he rolled it across his fingertips and held it out toward her. “Look.”

  She heaved a sigh of frustration then took the disk from him and held it up toward the light. Expecting to see the man again, she glanced at Drakkin then back into the disk. The image of a woman came into focus. Her golden-brown hair had been arranged on top of her head in an intricate pattern of ringlets and braids. Wide purple eyes dominated her features, but the angle of her cheekbones and the shape of her lips seemed familiar.

  “Who is she?” Aria whispered, unable to look away.

  “E’Lanna dar Aune.” He waited until she met his gaze to add, “She was your mother.”

  Chapter Two

  “Your wounds are healing nicely,” Quentin Keire, Crown Stirate of Rodymia, said in a softly mocking tone. “Are you ready to tell me what really happened?”

  Noll dar Joon watched Faujer closely, waiting for his reaction to Quentin’s provocation. Neither of the Rodytes could see her, but Quentin knew she was watching, had directed her to assess Faujer’s responses and scan his mind for any hint of deception.

  “I accept responsibility for my failure, Sire, but I have not lied to you.” Faujer kept his gaze fixed on the center of Quentin’s chest, a position neither subservient nor challenging.

  “You still contend that your prisoner just—how did you put it—blinked out of sight?”

  “I don’t know what happened. I woke up as Aria returned from the utility room. She stood beside the bed for a moment then light erupted around her and she disappeared.” He shook his head, the blue highlights in his hair gleaming. “She looked more surprised than I was. I don’t think she did it intentionally.”

  Naked and bound in magnetic restraints, Faujer was a visual feast. Noll’s gaze swept his muscular body, lingering with lascivious interest on his flaccid cock. Even at rest, it was impressive. How much longer and thicker w
ould it grow if she touched it, stroked it, drew it slowly into her mouth?

  “Noll, does he speak the truth?” Quentin casually walked to his throne and sat, apparently expecting her to take over the interrogation.

  Shit! She’d been too busy admiring his physique to scan his emotions. Easing into his mind, she sensed more frustration than fear. She probed deeper as she “shifted” into view. Rodyte leaders lavished riches and rewards on those in their favor while those who displeased them were lucky to escape with their lives.

  Instead of immediately answering Quentin’s question, she circled Faujer. “Had Aria exhibited any Mystic abilities before she ‘blinked out of sight’?”

  Faujer dared a glance in her direction then returned his gaze to the Stirate’s chest. “She mentioned disturbing dreams, but I had no idea she could teleport.”

  Noll moved through Faujer’s mind, fascinated by the intriguing combination of ruthless ambition and cunning. Savage, brutal, this man was descended from millennia of fierce warriors. Narrowing her scan, she searched memories and feelings directly associated with Aria.

  “You were following orders when you first took Aria to your bed.” Noll moved closer to Faujer as she spoke, itching to run her hands all over his magnificent body, to test his control and stamina. “Then she submitted so sweetly, and you found so much pleasure between her thighs that you ceased to think of her as an assignment.”

  “That’s not true!” His gaze burned into hers for a moment before he subdued his temper. “I won’t deny finding pleasure with Aria, but I never let myself forget she was a mission.”

  Framing his face with her palms, Noll gazed deep into his eyes. “Did you allow your prisoner to escape?”