by Cara Lake
“Well, Let us see what we can do to convince you that our way is best.” Abrasax pressed a button on his desk.
As Tyr’s brain mulled over any number of scenarios for locating Sal’s girls and ensuring Irina was safe, the door opened and a tall female entered. Her skin was pale, almost translucent and the green eyes that blinked beneath pale gold lashes were a mesmerising emerald, glittering with lustful promise. He found himself staring in rapt attention, as she moved toward him with a fluid swing of her hips that encouraged her golden hair to sway from side to side in hypnotic waves.
The female was dressed head to toe in a dark-green leather bodice and skin-tight trousers that clung to her curves like a wetsuit, appearing almost damp. Her skin glistened as if she had recently showered and was still moist. It was surprising that although he found her attractive, he felt no heat stirring his blood, no heart stuttering in his chest as it did with one particular female.
He stood when she entered, as did Abrasax. “Ah, Rusalka, my sweet!” exclaimed Abrasax, “how good of you to come so quickly.” Tyr imagined he heard a certain irony in his voice.
Rusalka smiled, her head tilted toward Tyr, her eyes darting his direction. “I would have come sooner if I known exactly who your guest was,” she replied in smooth silky tones. She walked toward him and ran her fingers up his arm and then slowly across his shoulders and back. “I do so love a man with muscle,” she purred at his neck, “and yours are pretty damn fine.” Sashaying away, glancing provocatively over her shoulder. “Did you bring him for me to play with, Abra?” she asked pouting, draping her lithe body across back of the sofa.
“Calm yourself. Tyr and I have business, perhaps when it is done, you two can play. Until then why don’t you pour us both a drink?”
Her eyes rolled in Tyr’s direction as if to say that Abrasax was a big meanie for spoiling their fun, but she did as he said, all the while exaggerating the movements of her body and glancing at him flirtatiously to gauge his reaction.
Tyr managed to contain himself and gave his full attention back to Abrasax. He continued to maintain his rigid self-control, even though she decided to perch herself on the arm of his chair, having poured him a whiskey. She ran her hands up and down his chest, purring softly as Tyr carried on the discussion with Abrasax, keen to garner as much information as he could. Feign surrender, play dumb, and keep options open.
* * * * *
Irina, watching from the red room, increased the volume just as Tyr asked, “What do I have to do for all this?” Her mind tried to process what she was hearing, but some of the words Abrasax used were unfamiliar. All she could see was Tyr, agreeing to some sort of business transaction with Abrasax who had apparently killed Sal, and now Tyr was going to work for him!
At his next words any remaining slivers of hope that were lingering in her chest died. “She means nothing to me.” The words cut through her and twisted serrated daggers in her heart, a clamp squeezing out the remaining blood. And then that female—all over him like a rash! And he just sat there, relaxed, a beautiful evil, sipping his whiskey as if discussing the weather!
An overwhelming sense of betrayal and disgust erupted like a volcano in her chest. The pain was excruciating. She almost doubled over as it ripped into her gut and she had to steady herself to make it to the bed. Irina sat on the edge holding her stomach, arms wrapped around her waist, trying to hold herself together as little pieces of herself were torn away. As she listened to the words that were killing her, hot tears welled in her eyes, tears containing all the guilt, disappointment and sorrow entwined with her past, her family—and him.
How could she have been so stupid? She had still clung to a small thread of hope that perhaps she was mistaken in him, but the evidence against him was mounting. His reaction to her at the police station had been nothing but fake, some kind of ploy to string her along. He might not have killed Sal but Abrasax had and now Tyr was signing up with him! Although why she should care what he did, she didn’t even want to consider. She didn’t really know him—it was just the weird connection she felt tangling her in knots. And why had they brought her here? That was something she couldn’t fathom. Unless it all stemmed back to the day her family died. She had always felt deep down that it was her they were looking for. Had they now found her? Was Abrasax the instigator? Well, she may be Miss Pacifist but she was no pushover.
Irina made her way to the bathroom and splashed her face with water. It quelled the volcano inside and she gazed at her face in the mirror. Her reflection was haunted, her eyes hollow.
“I’ll make him pay,” she vowed, “and if I ever get my hands on that furniture whore, I’ll tear her eyes out and eat them for breakfast.”
Irina steeled her thoughts on payback all the while trying to stifle the incessant drumming of a thought that questioned why she should care at all. Tyr Bellor was a faded shadow, a wisp of vapor, a nothing. As far as she was concerned, he no longer existed on her radar. But if that was true, why was her last thought before sleep overtook her, the image of dark curling lashes crossing obsidian dark eyes?
Chapter Eleven
“We are beginning to feel rips in the fabric of the universe. Realignment is close,” announced Cygnus to the assembled Concordia members, the ruling council of the Eunomi Alliance. Eleven pairs of eyes looked his way. The council members, all with grave expressions, sat expectantly waiting for Cygnus, their leader, to elaborate.
They had come together in the great hall of their capital on the planet Auriga where the Eunomi Alliance made its home. Seated around a crystal table that swirled with ever-changing patterns of the skies, they watched images flashing from the blue sky and white clouds of Earth to the green-yellow sunsets of Lyra and the violent orange-purple of an Ophiuchus winter storm.
The great hall itself was perched atop a high peak overlooking the city of Magellania that lay sprawled below in all its glory, a sparkling white alabaster carpet of spires and domes. The Aurigi adored the skies and so built upward, each home a pinnacle that rose sharply in reverence toward the source of their energy, the three suns that gazed down on them, replenishing, sustaining and nourishing. A supply of never-ending warmth and security, of treasured wiccani light magick that had so nearly been lost during the upheavals of the last Realignment eight hundred years ago.
The great hall was open to the elements, a circular structure of columns holding up a crystal glass roof that allowed the council to soak up the warmth and enjoy the golden rays while the meeting was in session. Today the mood was serious and the focus was on recent events that indicated the beginning of the next Realignment. Reports of discord and dispute were being relayed from all parts of the galaxy.
“There is disturbing news from Earth. Current disputes are escalating. Our operatives report that truces are being broken, old conflicts are resurfacing and the possibility of global warfare erupting is now more than certain.” Cygnus’ voice was weary, heavy with regret.
“We have reached a critical moment,” continued Sollarus, sitting to his left. “The Earth conflicts are not the only ones escalating. Raids by Discordant rabble on Lyra have increased. There are many refugees fleeing into the cities trying to escape their reach. Slavery and poverty on Ophiuchus are at epidemic proportions and the Eridani are also on the verge of a full-scale civil war.”
The mood around the table was somber. Each of the council members having lived through previous Realignments knew that their only hope lay in the search for and recognition of Esseni dualities.
“Do we have any news on the whereabouts of Esseni potentials and whether they have manifested yet?” someone queried.
All eyes turned to Etanin, the controller of Eunomi protectors whose job it was to ensure potential Esseni were shielded from Discordant eyes. “We have news of an identified pairing that we have recently made contact with.” She paused, her blue eyes narrowing unhappily. “It’s not good news.”
“Have they manifested?” asked Tellurus, his clear gray eyes con
cerned.
“They have made contact but we are not sure yet how close they are,” replied Etanin in measured tones, belying the gravity of her words. “There has been a complication.”
“The Discordants have found them also.” It was a statement not a question. Rastaban had voiced what they had all been thinking.
“What pairing is it and who is dealing with the fallout?” questioned the tall blonde at Cygnus’s right hand. “Do we have a warrior in place to counter the Discordants?”
Cygnus paused and looked at Terra. “We believe it is War.” Immediately tension crackled in the air.
“So Peace is also revealed?” The question was anxious.
“It appears so,” replied Cygnus, “and Cassiopeia is shielding her with Merak.”
“That’s unfortunate.” Tellurus spoke the words no doubt the whole council were at one in thinking. Terra laid her hand over his. “Maybe not.” Terra spoke calmly. “Cassiopeia has a lot to prove.” Tellurus turned to pierce her with his slate-gray eyes. “That is what worries me,” he said.
Later, after the council had spent some time debating their next moves, Tellurus drew Terra aside from the rest of the gathering onto the balcony overlooking the Aurigan capital. They both gazed out at the beauty of the city, considering again how lucky they had been to preserve its beauty during the last Realignment eight hundred years ago.
At last Tellurus spoke. “It is not forgotten how War was lost to the Discordants during the last Realignment. Cassiopeia I know feels great regret and guilt.”
“Perhaps then she is best equipped to stabilize the current situation,” came the cool reply.
“I hope so. The Balance needs it. Another eight hundred years of instability is unthinkable.”
“I believe Cassiopeia will prevail. I have been watching. So far the dualities are on track. She reported that the Taijitus are in evidence and also that their auras are revealed, so the pairing must have felt the connection.”
“That is good,” replied Tellurus cautiously, “but even so we have been in this position before and lost out in the end. The auras make it easier for the Discordants to recognize them and they can be very persuasive recruiting to their cause. They prey on greed and power and the worst elements of Earthani instinct. They can be hard to resist.”
Terra turned to him raising her clear-blue eyes to his face. “Have faith in your daughter, Tellurus, she has a good heart and good instincts. I know we can rely on her.”
Tellurus clasped Terra to his chest and breathed in her scent. It warmed his heart. “Cassiopeia is so much like you, Terra, loyal, strong and optimistic. If you say she will prevail, then I believe you. I will always believe you.” Terra smiled sadly at her husband, her beloved for the last three thousand years. “There is always hope,” she said simply.
“I know, my love, but I can’t help but wonder what will happen if we don’t win.” Tellurus posed the question that was at the very heart of the Concordia’s mission.
Terra could only reply with honesty and a shake of her head. “Pray to Gaia that we do win,” she said, “because if we do not, the universe will rip itself apart.”
* * * * *
Cassi was frantic. She had not been able to find Irina at the station after the terrorist attack so she had raced home thinking she would find her there. But there was no sign of her and when Leo called to ask if Irina had arrived home safely, alarm bells began to sound. She contacted Merak, distraught. He reassured her to stay calm.
“We would have felt a rupture if one of the dualities had been lost,” he said. “She’s still alive. I’ll get one of the wiccani trackers to scry for her position. The auras are visible now so the shielding is less impenetrable. Sibyl can probably manage it.”
Most wiccani, beings with the ability to use light magick, their powers sourced from the sun and stars, were based on Lyra and Auriga. However, there were a number like Sibyl who had settled on Earth and as allies of the Eunomi often assisted in the hunt for Esseni using their light magick to scry, trace and provide protection shielding.
“I’m sure Sibyl can but that’s why I’m worried,” said Cassi. “It means the Discordants could find her too, and Bellor has escaped. It’s not on the news yet but Leo told me what really happened. What if he has already been corrupted by them? Leo said that Irina left to come home but what if they already have her?”
“Then we do what we must,” replied Merak.
Cassi swallowed the knot of panic that sat heavily in her throat, her worst fears rising. “I can’t lose another one,” she whispered. “I just can’t.”
* * * * *
After his discussion with Abrasax, Tyr was shown to a room by Rusalka. She made it clear that she’d be happy to stay if he wanted her to, but Tyr had a lot to consider and needed to clear his head. Besides, any thoughts of that kind were securely tied to a pair of amber eyes and soft chocolate brown hair. Jesus! He’d had his pick of girls throwing themselves at his celebrity status. And yeah! He’d taken them, lots of them. But truth be told, he hadn’t wanted them. Not really. Not the way he wanted her. Christ! Just thinking about her gave him a hard-on.
He pictured her alone and scared. The fact that he barely knew her was immaterial. She was somehow connected to him and the strength of that tie was such that Tyr knew instinctively that he would do all in his power to make sure she came to no harm.
He knew that she was safe for now, having listened to Abrasax’s recent proposal but he still wasn’t sure whether she was an innocent pawn in all this or a complicit one. Still, at least he knew he would see her tomorrow. Tyr spent the night unable to sleep, his thoughts constantly drawn to Irina and her whereabouts. It took a major effort on his part to focus his attention on other information that Abrasax had disclosed.
Apparently Abrasax owned a pendant that had belonged to Tyr as a child. He remembered that it had been his only possession for a while after he had been kicked out of his home by his drunken uncle and left to roam the streets. It was something he had treasured and never sold. He was never sure why he hadn’t taken that step. Selling it would have given him cash he so desperately needed to survive. Instead he’d kept it, treasured it as a reminder of his almost forgotten mother, the physical weight of it, a proof of her past existence. Eventually it had been targeted and stolen from him one night as he slept under the railway arches by one of the larger boys in the gang, and Tyr remembered the devastation he had felt at its loss.
His fury had been such that when he’d found out the name of the thief, his reaction had involved a bare-knuckled confrontation with the boy. Tyr had conquered him even though the boy was twice Tyr’s size. He had gained the vengeance he desired but not been able to reclaim his treasure, the thief having already sold it. Tyr had been crushed to lose his one and only connection to his dead mother.
Somehow his prized possession had ended up with Abrasax, who told him the pendant was a symbol of an Esseni potential. It was a spherical crystal pendant with two distinct chambers. One side of his was red, the other clear. Abrasax had told him it was one of a pair before locking it back in his safe. Tyr wanted it back.
Abrasax had then divulged that there was another pendant, currently in the possession of a Eunomi sympathizer, Merak Espenson, the lawyer whose firm Irina worked for. In fact, Irina was his adopted daughter and the blonde lawyer, Cassiopeia Shedir, his niece. So it appeared that this connection to Irina was not a coincidence. Abrasax wanted the other pendant. He claimed it was essential for harnessing the power of Esseni and needed to be out of Eunomi hands.
Tyr did not believe for a moment that Abrasax had no other means than to use Tyr to get it back. However it seemed that for whatever reason he wanted Tyr to use his links to Irina to steal back the pendant for him. Tyr’s confusion over Irina had intensified even more. It still looked like she was playing him, maybe not for Abrasax as he had originally surmised, but for the Eunomi. According to Abrasax, they also wanted his “essence” and would stoop to any means to g
et it.
Abrasax had then promised Tyr all sorts of training as a Discordant warrior, a place within their army as a commander, unimagined riches and power. Did he believe him? I believe only in myself. Tyr knew without a shadow of doubt that everything Abrasax was doing was for his own gain. He was an eight-foot-tall, yellow-eyed, scaly, smelly alien, for fuck’s sake, and he was holding Melanie and Delora’s lives to ransom. For now, Tyr decided he would go with the flow and if all went well, eventually get to hear what the Eunomi had to say. Tomorrow he had a job to do and Irina was part of that. His heart thumped, battering his sternum with the knowledge that he would have to play it cool, and to pull off Abrasax’s plan, he would have to play her. Double bluff.
Chapter Twelve
Irina had returned to the bedroom after splashing her face, to find the screens switched off. She had then fallen asleep on the red bed, having been brought food by a brawny individual who placed it on the table and left without saying a word. She was exhausted. The events of the day came crashing down on her, an oppressive weight on her shoulders. Tyr Bellor was not a man she could trust. The station had been attacked and people had died! She had been kidnapped and kept prisoner.
Oh and not to mention, Tyr Bellor was a betraying bastard.
It was now morning and Irina had awoken to find clean clothes on the end of her bed along with a breakfast of croissants, orange juice and coffee. Well, at least she wouldn’t starve. She didn’t particularly want to stay dressed in the dirty skirt and blouse that had been through an explosion, so she changed into the skin-tight jeans and fitted black shirt they had left, curious but also faintly embarrassed that Abrasax knew her size.
The door opened and the brawny individual motioned her toward the door. He spoke no words but Irina again caught a glimpse of yellow in his eyes, reminding her of Shax and the man in the car from the day before. There was something very inhuman about the way they looked. Something she’d never noticed about Shax until now.