The Bilarrian simply smiled and said, “I know.”
Chapter Ten
Dro Tar had interacted with Drakkin enough to know he had a sense of humor. The fact that he intimidated the hell out of Mystics made him all right in her book. “So what brings you by?”
Jet-black hair just brushed his shoulders, while a cluster of thin braids extended to mid-chest. His eyes fascinated her, so different from the gently swirling eyes of the Ontarians. The outer mass had a faint blue tinge, while red rings separated his black pupils from his equally dark irises. She’d never found him devastatingly handsome. “Striking” more accurately fit his appearance.
“Tal told me where to find you, and this brings me by.” He unfolded his long fingered hand, revealing a facetted crystal disk.
She took the disk from his palm and held it up to the light. An image of the woman from Evan’s vision was perfectly captured within the disk. “Holy shit! Take a look at this.” She tossed the disk to Evan, her hands shaking.
“Do you know who she is?” Evan asked after looking at the image.
Drakkin shook his head. “I was hoping you could tell me.”
“Where did you get the disk?” She never doubted Evan’s vision was real, she just hadn’t been sure the image had anything to do with the journal until this moment. Visions were tricky things, so much depended on perception and interpretation.
“Vee sent it to me the day he died.” Drakkin glanced off into the distance, his gaze shadowed with memory.
“One of Vee’s last entries mentioned the message he had sent you and his confidence that you would act upon it.”
Drakkin acknowledged Evan’s statement with a regal incline of his head. “I’d be happy to act, if I had any idea what action Vee was requesting.”
“Which brings us back to the sat entries,” Dro Tar said. “Can Evan read them now?” Drakkin repeated the gesture, but a certain glint in his eyes made it appear mocking rather than regal.
“There are a cluster of entries shortly after the war began. ‘The Great Conflict is ripping my world apart, Chae Tra. Is there nothing ye can do to assist me’?” Evan shrugged his broad shoulders and looked at the Bilarrian. “The others are basically the same.”
“I remember the correspondence.” The red ring in Drakkin’s eyes flashed and he began to pace. “It was not long after he lost his soul mate.”
“Vee had a soul mate?” She’d known Vee by reputation more than interaction. Still, it was hard to picture him in love. He had always seemed distant, somehow removed from the everyday grind. Perhaps this explained why.
“He refused to speak her name and requested that others abide by his wishes.”
Evan leaned in and whispered, “She was High Queen when the Great Conflict began.”
E’lanna dar Aune was Vee’s soul mate? The revelation sent Dro Tar’s mind reeling. “Does Tal know?” Living for a thousand years created all sorts of interesting complications. “Were they related?”
Evan shook his head. “Vee comforted her after Frim dar Joon betrayed her. She honored her vows until he set her aside. Tal and Trey descended from one of the daughters she produced with Frim dar Joon.”
“I doubt Vee’s personal life is the reason we are here.” Drakkin’s tone took on an impatient edge. “The Great Conflict is over, even if its legacies remain.”
“Vee asked for your assistance in his messages.” Dro Tar guided the conversation back on course. “Did you help him?”
“Members of the Symposium are bound by vows of political neutrality. Vee was not yet a member, but he understood the necessity for our position. I found his adamancy shocking.” Drakkin paused, then a sardonic smile curved his lips. “I offered him information and suggested courses of study, but I did nothing that compromised my standing with the Symposium.”
“This happened more than a hundred cycles ago.” Confusion knitted her brow. “So what was Malos trying to hide?”
“The last three entries are much more recent,” Evan said.
Drakkin stopped directly in front of them and clasped his hands behind his back. “Let me guess, they encourage me to consider sponsoring a bid for reconciliation.”
“Reconciliation?” Dro Tar rubbed her forehead. Solving mysteries was tedious. She wanted to kick in doors or blow something up. “Ontariese has never had a problem with Bilarri.”
“Reconciliation with the Rodytes,” Drakkin clarified.
“I’m still confused. Vee asked you to encourage your people to reconcile with the Rodytes?”
“Asked is a rather mild term, more like hounded, pressured, and coerced. He was relentless in his insistence that I reopen negotiations with the Rodytes. I was insulted. In fact I found the concept was so out of character for Vee that I came to Ontariese to discuss it.”
Evan made a sound part laugh and part cough. “I remember the conversation. It literally shook the Conservatory.”
Dro Tar expelled an impatient breath as her mind struggled to connect the fragments. “Why would Vee give a damn about the Rodytes?”
“That’s what I asked him at the time. The more I pressured him about the motivation for his insistence, the more belligerent he became.”
“Vee, belligerent? I can’t picture it. He was always so -- serene.”
“I mentored him.” Drakkin rolled his shoulders and eased his stance, his arms now hanging at his sides. “Believe me; he had to work at being serene.”
Evan touched her upper arm, drawing her attention. “You told me sat is a code indicating a message is being coerced or transmitted under duress. All the messages utilizing that word are out of character for Vee.”
“Who or what could motivate Vee to champion such a bizarre cause?”
“The answer is in the question,” Drakkin said. “Each time Vee attempted to influence me, it was on behalf of the Rodytes.”
“The Rodytes have some nifty toys, but they’re no match for a Mystic,” she objected. “They’ve spent a lot of time and energy trying to develop technology that allows them to duplicate or neutralize Mystic abilities. Why would Vee ...” Understanding kicked her like a horse. It suddenly made perfect sense. “They had something on him or they were threatening someone he cared about deeply. Motivational tactics never seem to change.”
“But who?” Evan fidgeted, his features tense and thoughtful. “Vee never even considered another social alliance and he had no living relatives. Who would be so vulnerable to a Rodyte threat that Vee would cooperate to protect them? It doesn’t make sense.”
Drakkin took the crystal back from Evan and studied the device from every angle. “Are there other entries in his journal I have yet to see?”
“Just one. ‘My only regret is never hearing her name again.’”
“E’Lanna. He must have meant E’Lanna.” As Drakkin spoke her name, light erupted within the disk. Vee’s image arose from the flat surface.
“Her name is Aria. I trust ye understand.” Vee glanced away. Determination burned in his bright green eyes when his gaze returned to center. “You must find her, Chae Tra. She has no idea of the secrets locked within her mind. I leave her in thy capable hands.” The disk blinked out and the image disappeared.
“What the hell was that about?” Dro Tar pressed her hand against her chest, anticipation pulsing within her like the beat of a bass drum. “Who is Aria?”
“Vee often told me he dreamed of the children he should have shared with E’Lanna. Their daughter’s name was to be Aria.”
Tingles broke out on Dro Tar’s arms and questions whirled through her mind. “Could the woman in Evan’s vision be Vee’s daughter? How long after the Great Conflict began did E’Lanna die?”
“They were in hiding for over two cycles right after the war began. It is possible E’Lanna bore Vee a daughter during that time.”
“A vision brought me to Las Vegas,” Evan told Drakkin. “I saw the same woman whose image is captured in the disk. She was terrified. I can still feel the urgency that
filled the vision. If she is Vee’s daughter, then you must begin your search right here.”
“We’ll help you in any way we can,” Dro Tar volunteered. “I’m not real familiar with the city, but I know --”
“You will return to Ontariese.” Though quiet and calm, Drakkin’s tone brooked no refusal. “Malos must be apprehended and his followers dispersed. Tell everyone else the journal was destroyed.”
Dro Tar crossed her arms over her chest, narrowing her gaze on Drakkin’s face. This was her adventure with Evan. She didn’t want it to end.
“You said it yourself, sweetheart.” Evan wrapped his arm around her waist and gave her a tender squeeze. “Vee entrusted this secret to Lord Drakkin. I was only the messenger.”
“But what’s with Malos? There was nothing in the journal incriminating him.”
“He knew,” Evan said simply. “There is only one way Malos could have known the Rodytes were using Aria to manipulate Vee.”
“He’s a Rodyte spy.” All the pieces fit together in her mind. Whether she liked it or not, Drakkin was right. Their work here was finished, while his had just begun.
Evan turned her toward him, his gaze caressing her face. “An interrogation will have to confirm his involvement, but that would be my bet.”
“After watching you play roulette, I’ll back your bet any day.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and smiled into his eyes.
Epilogue
Dro Tar and Evan stood at the high, arched window gazing out at the moonlit night. A lavish bedchamber surrounded them, hinting at passion and intrigue. The simulation was flawless. Knowing it was a holographic projection didn’t prevent Dro Tar from being swept away by the setting. Misty clouds drifted across the moon and she snuggled back against his chest.
“We were so close,” she said quietly. “I can’t believe this will all go to waste.”
“You’ll find another programmer. I predict your fantasy emporiums are going to be hugely successful.”
“Why, thank you, kind sir.” Glancing over her shoulder, she found his gaze bright with speculation. “What are you thinking about?”
“Will all the adventures involve vampires?”
“We thought -- I want to launch with the vampire scenarios then branch off into other fantasies.”
“Then you might want to reconsider the name of your endeavor.”
“You don’t like Vampire Adventures?”
“Misadventures, is more like it.” His hand sneaked around and gave her bottom a playful pinch.
“Misadventures.” She chuckled. “You’re right, it suits me better. Misadventures it is.” After pausing for a thoughtful moment, she said, “I’m still short one programmer.”
“We’ll get you a new programmer. The brothers dar Aune have promised to pull some strings if that’s what it takes.”
“Pull some strings?” She turned in his arms and smiled up at him. “Listen to you. I didn’t think Mystics ever got the starch out of their shorts.”
He returned her smile, his gaze warm and caressing. “I can be quite adaptable.”
His formal response made her laugh. “Of course you can.”
They’d been inseparable since they returned to Ontariese, reveling in each shared moment, each new discovery. Dor Tar knew she wouldn’t be satisfied until all the loose ends were neatly tied, so she chose one task to accomplish each day.
Malos lasted less than an hour with the Mystic interrogator. The process was simple when the interrogator knew what he was looking for. At Dro Tar’s insistence, Gine had been told Grat died in the line of duty. She didn’t see any reason to sully Grat’s memory or complicate Gine’s future by revealing his brother’s sordid past.
“Gine’s uncle was approved as caregiver this afternoon,” she told Evan. “We’re officially off the hook.”
“I wasn’t opposed to taking care of him.”
“I said we are off the hook.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and stepped closer. “I want children -- eventually -- but I’d like to ease into the teenage years.” He nuzzled her neck and she pushed her fingers into the soft thickness of his hair. “What are you going to do with your time now that you’re mentor-less?”
“Tal suggested I take on an apprentice,” he whispered against her neck, sending tingles racing down her spine.
She eased back a bit, needing to see his eyes. “You’re more than qualified. Do you think you’ll enjoy being a teacher?”
“It’s a Mystic’s responsibility to share his wisdom with future generations.”
“Thank you, Vee.” He smiled, but sadness crept into his gaze. Everyone who knew Vee shared the same sense of awe. Dro Tar wished they’d crossed paths a little sooner. She pressed a gentle kiss against Evan’s lips before she asked, “Has anyone heard from Drakkin?”
“Not yet. The director of the Symposium isn’t used to checking in with others. Besides only a select few know the nature of his search.”
“I hope he finds her.” The woman’s image flickered through her mind, elegant features and lavender eyes. “I’d love to meet Vee’s daughter. She must be extraordinary.”
“We can only imagine, unless Lord Drakkin succeeds.” Cupping her cheek with his palm, he brushed her forehead with his lips. “What’s left on your to do list?”
“Just one thing.” She watched his expression closely as she whispered, “Officially declaring a social alliance with Evan cet Roumi.”
Warmth and tenderness ignited in his gaze and his lips parted in a breath stealing smile. “I’d be honored to accept, but we need a witness if we’re going to make it official.”
“True.” She looked at the inviting bed, anticipation making her heart pound. “I guess it can wait until morning. I have other plans for tonight.”
Book 2:
Drakkin’s Aria
Prologue
Tingling and breathless, Aria Myer rolled to her side and snuggled against her lover. Faujer sprawled on his back, eyes closed, panting. She smiled, pleased by his obvious satisfaction. At times the responsibilities of commanding a Rodyte Cutter distracted him from their lovemaking. Tonight, however, he’d been ravenous, almost insatiable.
She glanced at his ruggedly handsome face, framed by curly dark hair, then trailed her finger from the base of his throat to his navel. He caught her wrist before she could complete the descent.
“Go to sleep.” His tone was more grumble than command, so she splayed her fingers against his belly and tried to relax. Desire simmered and her body ached, despite their recent tumble. She savored the excitement of having Faujer inside her, but true fulfillment always remained just out of reach.
The past few weeks had conspired to keep them apart. It wasn’t that she needed to be near Faujer night and day, but he’d been especially preoccupied lately. She slipped out of bed and crossed the compact cabin. Sector patrols kept the ship continually in motion. The all male crew knew better than to speak with the captain’s woman; even direct eye contact was discouraged. She understood the practice was for her safety. Still, she was restless and often alone.
Stepping into the utility room, she activated the cleansing mist. Her mind drifted as the fresh smelling spray coated her skin. Her mother had been a space pet, the sort of pleasure servant assigned to most Rodyte ships. Faujer’s security team had stopped the ship on which her mother was stationed for a routine inspection. Annoyed by the delay, one of the crewmembers sneaked away for a quick visit with her mother. He found Aria alone in her mother’s cabin instead and decided to break in the new pet. Faujer responded to Aria’s terrified screams and challenged the brute for the right to her virginity. A vicious fight ensued and Faujer killed the abusive man. Knowing the crew would turn on the women as soon as he left the ship, Faujer had seen no option but to take them with him.
Night after night, Aria waited for Faujer to claim his prize. Even her mother didn’t understand why he hesitated. When he finally summoned her to his quarters, he explained that he had no desire
for a pet. If she were willing to be his lover, he would welcome her in his bed, but he wouldn’t share her with his crew.
She had no misconceptions about the nature of their relationship. She was his sexual consort, nothing more. Turning to face the mist dispenser, she rubbed the silky film into her skin. Faujer’s possessiveness had allowed her to avoid her mother’s vocation, but he treated her with no real significance, no true affection. Despite their passionate interludes, she felt isolated and empty. If only there were some way she could reach beyond his disciplined reserve. If only ...
Her heart gave an uncomfortable lurch, so she let the thought trail away. She was the daughter of an insignificant space pet. Why should she expect more out of life? She scrubbed her hair and ignored the ache building deep in her abdomen.
Echoes of sensation rippled through her body. Warm hands stroked her flesh and a hungry mouth moved against hers. She brushed the tops of her breasts and dipped low across her belly. Faujer always took her quickly, thinking only of his release. She was there to pleasure him. Her satisfaction was incidental. Tonight had been no different. He’d kissed her briefly, caressed her long enough to make her wet, then thrust fast and hard until he shuddered with release.
Her nipples gathered as she imagined his lips, his tongue, his teeth, nibbling and sucking her breasts until she cried out and arched her back. The images focused, making the fantasy more intense. Sweat gleamed on his smooth chest. Dark tendrils of hair clung to his sculpted cheeks. He knelt between her thighs, pressing against her entrance.
No. She wasn’t ready. She was never ready when he took her. She eased her hand between her thighs, imagining his fingers touching her, building her need. Immersing herself in the fantasy, she pictured him raising one of her legs to his shoulder and gazing into her eyes.
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