Real Magic

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Real Magic Page 2

by Lissa Michaels


  Mayori sniffed his cape and wrinkled her nose. “I’ll empty your pockets and put this in the sanitizer.”

  “Thank you.” He strode down the corridor to his cabin.

  “Drake—”

  “Mayori, I appreciate your concern, but I’m doing this alone.” He turned his back on her worried frown and entered his cabin.

  “Suicidal son of a—”

  The door slid shut behind him, cutting off the rest of her insult. It was better that he didn’t hear what she said. She knew his reasons for deciding to complete this mission alone. She also knew he wouldn’t change his mind. Arguing about it was pointless.

  Mayori, Zanera, the whole drekking mess left him drained. Maybe that shower would help.

  Not bothering to turn on the lights, he pulled his shirt from his waistband, unclipped the fasteners that held it closed at his neck, shoulder and side, slid it off and tossed it in the direction of his sanitizer. Slumping into the chair near the door, he yanked off his boots then leaned his head back against the cool metal wall.

  Drake sighed, relishing the quiet hum of the Dryad’s engines after that noisy tavern. An image of a beautiful blonde-haired little sprite with the heart of a tigress formed in his mind. The looks she’d given him were far from admiring.

  He was by no means vain, but he was used to a certain type of behavior from women. They either wanted him or feared him, or wanted him enough to ignore their fear. But this woman hated him. He’d felt it clear across the room, and he wasn’t empathic.

  Why? He didn’t know her. Pretty little thing like her—he’d remember if he’d seen her before. She obviously knew him.

  Maybe she knew one of his marks, or had come too close to him during a hit, or maybe she’d been at one of the many Guild settlements he’d set up for refugees during the Jotnar occupation, before the rebellion.

  He shrugged. It didn’t matter.

  He’d seen her enter the tavern and settle in to watch him from what she probably had thought was a discreet distance. He’d wondered how long it would take her to attract all the wrong attention. It took longer than he thought.

  He’d seen the wolvern and several others finally catch sight of her, saw the wolvern going after her, but what he didn’t understand was why the beast changed his mind. A wolvern on the prowl didn’t stop when he had a female in his sights, yet by all appearances not only did he lose sight of her, he lost her scent as well. A mystery, but one Drake intended to leave alone. Figuring out this mystery would mean more contact with the lady in question, and he had no intention of ever seeing her again.

  What had she really wanted? He didn’t buy that Guardian frak for a second. The Guardian myths dated back a thousand centuries. Beyond the ruins of the shrines built in their honor, there was no proof that the Guardians or any of that magical race had ever existed, and there hadn’t been in a very long time.

  Years ago his old man and Galen’s father, Tremaine, had gone on an archeological expedition in search of the Guardians ancient city. They’d nearly succeeded in getting themselves killed, but they failed to prove that the Guardians were anything but myths. Drake wasn’t about to believe this woman’s claim to the contrary.

  So what did she want?

  A warning tone sounded through the ship’s audio system. The FTL engines were about to engage.

  Drake gripped the arms of the chair. Immediately, the ship tugged him against the seat, gaining momentum, then jerked, propelling itself into the spatial corridor that allowed ships to travel faster than the speed of light.

  Thump!

  “Ouch!”

  Drake grabbed his knife from his boot, leapt to his feet, and slapped his palm against the light control, all in the space of two seconds.

  His blankets were rumpled, his pillow dented, and a blonde, sleepy-eyed sprite sat in the center of his carpet, rubbing her hip, an embarrassed flush staining her cheeks.

  “I’m not used to space travel.”

  “What the hell are you doing here?”

  Jelena lifted her gaze to meet his and got as far as his chest. His question fled along with all hope of coherent thought. Not that she could have answered him with her mouth gone dry and her tongue suddenly stuck to the roof of her mouth. “Klemtal Ali’ra,” she whispered in awe. God’s image. She’d never seen someone she felt worthy of the shortened name, tali, until now.

  “I asked you a question.”

  She shrugged, pulling herself to her feet, and forced her gaze to his eyes. That was a mistake. The bright room displayed what the dim tavern and dark alley had hidden—a shade of blue she’d never seen before, a strange yet beautiful blending of blue and green, like the turquoise oceans of Talara, but so vibrant it took her breath away.

  Those eyes narrowed, forcing her to collect her thoughts. “You’re my nevash, tali. Where you go, I go.”

  His eyebrow raised and she groaned inwardly. Why had she called him tali? She brushed the seat of her royal blue pants with her hand then perched herself on the edge of his bed as if she hadn’t a care in the world, praying he didn’t see her embarrassment.

  Basha du! She hadn’t meant to fall asleep on his bed, but `porting herself from the planet to his ship so soon after arriving had used more energy than she’d expected. She’d only meant to rest for a moment, knowing he’d arrive soon, but the spicy male scent clinging to the pillow beneath her cheek and the soft mattress cradling her body had been too much for her drained body to resist.

  He brought up his wrist and tapped a button on the dull metal band, drawing her attention once again to his naked chest. A feminine voice immediately offered assistance, jerking Jelena’s gaze to his furious face.

  “Who the hell authorized a transport into my cabin?”

  No reply came, only the sound of booted feet running in the corridor. A green woman and a human male burst into the cabin with weapons in their hands.

  Jelena barely gave them a cursory glance before returning her gaze to him. Ali’ra, he was incredible. Definitely tali. In body, perhaps, but not in heart or soul. “Send them away. I’m here to protect you, not harm you.”

  “Drake, there’s no one here.”

  The confused male voice drew Jelena’s gaze to the young man. His long blond hair was pulled back and clipped at the nape of his neck. His height, taller than her nevash, and golden skin marked him a Bellarissian.

  “No, someone is here,” the green woman said. “I feel it.” The psychic energy she emitted rose the hair on Jelena’s arms.

  “She’s sitting right there on the bed.” Drake waved in her direction. “I’m not in the mood for jokes, so don’t even try to tell me you don’t see her. She didn’t get in here without help. I want to know who it was, right now.”

  “I’m not an untrained child. I don’t need help to port anywhere.” The woman’s amethyst eyes literally sparkled with anger.

  “To transport onto my ship you do.” Drake took a step toward her, clenching his fists only to realize that he still held his knife in his hand. With a jerk of his wrist, he sent it sailing.

  She flinched and the damned knife thumped on the carpet.

  He never missed! It should have embedded hilt-deep into the mattress, right between her splayed fingers. “Who let you in here?” he ground out.

  “Drake, I don’t see anyone.” There was too much question in Galen’s voice.

  “She’s there all right,” he said, watching those amethyst eyes of hers spark. “Somehow she’s shielded herself from you. She did it in the tavern too.”

  “She did?” Mayori tightened her grip on her blaster as her suspicious gaze squinted toward the bed, trying to see the woman for herself.

  Drake nodded. “When I caught her stalking me in an alley, she claimed she was a Guardian, sent by the gods to protect me.”

  Galen laughed.

  Drake grinned at her, watching her fury get the better of her. She leapt to her feet, her hand making a circle in front of her. Mayori and Galen gasped and jerked their w
eapons toward her.

  “I AM Nar’gadesh, a Guardian. How dare you laugh at me.” Her hands glowed as she stalked toward Galen, her fiery eyes keeping him frozen in place. Balls of blue fire formed on her raised palms.

  Drake lunged, putting himself between them.

  She gasped, jerking back. “Ali’ra, no!” She clenched her fists, extinguishing the fire, but not quickly enough to contain her power. It slammed into Drake with the force of a meteor, knocking the breath out of him, and sent him flying back into Galen. Galen emitted a pained “umpf” then they hit the floor, hard.

  Drake lay flat on his back, too stunned to move. He stared at the sparkling spots dancing on the ceiling and struggled to draw air into his flattened lungs.

  She leaned over him, her bottom lip caught between her small white teeth, her expression a mixture of surprise and concern. “Tali, are you all right?”

  “Get away from him you—”

  Galen groaned.

  Mayori stopped mid-sentence, mid-stride, her gaze bouncing from Galen to Drake, an agonized expression on her face.

  Drake nodded toward Galen.

  After a moment’s hesitation, Mayori knelt beside Galen.

  “Is this how you Guardians protect people?” Drake wheezed the words, his fist clenched against his aching chest.

  She looked away, a guilty flush creeping up her neck and into her cheeks. “I… I didn’t mean… You shielded him. Why?” Her surprise sent a hot surge of adrenaline flooding through his veins. She jerked back as he rolled to his knees.

  Putting a hand on the floor to steady himself against the dizziness threatening to topple him again, he glared at her. “What the hell did you expect me to do? Watch you kill him? He’s like a brother to me.” He shoved himself to his feet.

  She shook her head, reaching for him, and must have thought better of it. “I meant only to knock him on his insulting raas.”

  “Didn’t quite work out that way, did it?” Drake refused to believe those fireballs were harmless. Chances are, Galen would have been a nasty scorch mark on his wall.

  She didn’t deny it.

  Releasing a disgusted snort, he turned away from her, grasped Galen’s outstretched hand, and pulled him to his feet.

  Galen rubbed the back of his head and turned to look at her. “If this is what happens when you rile a Guardian, I don’t think I want to meet one of your Executioners.”

  Her vibrant amethyst eyes widened. “You know of the Nar’gadem? I am surprised.”

  “We know of them.” Galen grinned. “Our parents used tales of them to scare us into behaving.”

  The lilting cadence of her laugh sent a tremor of awareness through Drake that he had no desire to acknowledge. It also brought a memory of someone he’d loved once, someone who’d betrayed him.

  May the Executioners find you on that cursed planet and destroy you for what you’ve done. The fury of his intended mother-in-law’s voice blared through his mind with crystal clarity, even after all these years.

  A startled gasp jerked him out of his thoughts.

  Drek! He must have whispered the words aloud. They stared at him, Galen’s expression sympathetic, Mayori’s pained. The woman’s expression said she felt the curse well-deserved.

  Drake clenched his jaw, refusing to look away. “Out. Now. Take her with you.”

  “What should we do with her?” Mayori reached for her.

  “No!” She jerked away, raising her palms. The blue glow forming around her hands stilled them all. She met Drake’s gaze. “I’m your Nar’gadesh. Where you go, I go.”

  “I’m going to take a shower.”

  Her gaze jerked to his bare chest and lower.

  His body’s instant tightening didn’t improve his mood. He crossed his arms over his chest. She obviously wasn’t as against the idea of sex with him as she let on. Women and their blasted games! He held back a disgusted snort. “Does this long look you’re taking mean you’re considering joining me?”

  Her gaze shot up to his, her cheeks flaming. “No.”

  He nodded, expecting this answer.

  Mayori stiffened beside him. She’d heard the hesitation in the woman’s voice too.

  “Take her to the galley. I’ll be along shortly.”

  Mayori nodded but this time made no move to touch her.

  The woman opened her mouth to protest then snapped it shut and motioned Mayori to lead the way.

  Drake caught her arm as she passed him. “You hurt any of these good people and an army of Guardians won’t be able to protect you from me.”

  She stared at him for a long moment then gave him a tight nod and followed Mayori out the door.

  “You really think she’s a Guardian?” Galen asked.

  “I don’t know what she is, but I intend to find out.”

  ZANERA STARED at the larger-than-life image of Drake on her monitor and stroked her finger over the tattoo on the right side of his face. She traced each point of the star then along the blade and hilt of the dagger thrust through it. Just seeing that dagger made her hot and ready to drek.

  “Frak!” She wanted him. The sex they’d shared had been spectacular, but more than that, she wanted to drain him again. That last time had whet her appetite for more. And the rush! His life-force had given her such power! She’d gone too far, taken too much. It should have killed him, but it hadn’t.

  No, he’d fully recovered, but she’d scared him. He wouldn’t let her near him now, and she needed him. He’d give her the power she needed to destroy the force-field imprisoning the Jotnar on Chula. Now she knew that if she proceeded carefully, gently, she could use him for years.

  Blast! Why hadn’t he agreed? It was so much better when they co-operated.

  No matter. She would have him, one way or another.

  “What’s the matter pet? Wasn’t your love slave anxious to fall back into your bed?”

  Zanera turned her head and glared at Threaden. “Tell me again why I should let you live?”

  “The Jotnar will never follow you without me by your side.”

  No, they would follow her. With Drake by her side, she’d have the power to rule the entire galaxy. Not even those pesky Nar’galiras would be able to stop her.

  Chapter Two

  THE MAGICIAN’S warning still rang clear in Jelena’s mind as she strode through the door the green woman indicated. The warning confused her as much as it surprised her. Why would a cold-blooded killer warn her off like that? Why would he care? She was under the impression that he was close to no one. That any life was expendable, even his own.

  Forcing the confusing tali from her mind, she surveyed the room she entered. The word galley brought to mind mouth-watering aromas, copper kettles and pans hanging from racks, and chefs laboring over steamy colorful dishes that begged to be tasted. This sterile little room was unlike anything Jelena imagined.

  No chefs, no aromas—just four white walls (unadorned except for one of those computerized food contraptions and a small window), a glossy black floor, and two small white tables each surrounded by four black chairs that appeared bolted to the floor. Calling this place a galley was a blatant misuse of the word.

  She turned to the door and found her escorts watching her warily. And why wouldn’t they? If tali hadn’t stepped between them and forced her to come to her senses… Ali’ra, that had never happened before. “I’m a Guardian, a protector. You’ve nothing to fear from me unless you try to harm the Magician.”

  The green-skinned woman snorted and strode past her to the food contraption. “You really expect us to believe you after what you just did?”

  “Mayori’s right, you know,” the Bellarissian said, drawing her attention to the kindest pair of eyes she’d ever seen, eyes that held more than a touch of laughter. “I don’t believe those little blue fireballs of yours were harmless any more than Drake does.”

  Jelena’s cheeks heated. Basha, what was wrong with her? She almost killed him because she thought he was laughing at her.
This man probably found humor in just about any situation. It was his fault. Damn his black heart! He purposely mocked her, knowing it would make her angry. “I apologize for losing my temper.”

  “It’s not Galen you need to apologize to.”

  “I just got knocked on my infuriating ass.” Galen grinned. “What would have happened if you hadn’t snuffed them out?”

  Jelena turned and strode to the food contraption. “How does this thing work?”

  “You’re not going to tell him, are you?” Mayori asked.

  That she almost became the first Nar’gadesh since creation to incinerate her own nevash? “No.” Jelena met her gaze. Green eyes. Was there anything on this woman that wasn’t green? “My behavior was inexcusable. It won’t happen again.”

  Mayori stared at her a long moment then nodded and turned to the contraption. “Compared to those found in households, this food station is very basic.” She demonstrated as she spoke. “You press this pad to bring the menu up on the touch screen, then make your selection. It’s only programmed for about a dozen different meals, but we each chose our favorites.”

  “Which is the Magician’s favorite?” Jelena asked, unsure why she did. Curiosity perhaps?

  “The grain and veg dish. Why?”

  Jelena shrugged and watched Mayori make her selection, something called gorchok. After a few moments, the contraption chimed. Mayori slid open the small door beneath the touch screen and removed a shallow rectangular container. Green and yellow diced vegetables and a red sauce mixed with long, stringy pink things that looked like they should be wriggling.

  “It’s not the same as fresh, but it’ll do.” Mayori shrugged and carried her tray to a table.

  Jelena turned toward the contraption and shuddered. Now she knew why the Magician ate grains and vegetables.

  When she heard Galen’s soft chuckle beside her, she looked at him. “Those weren’t—”

  “Not the garden variety, no.” He grinned.

  She stared at the menu, wondering what hidden horrors these others contained.

  “Theledonians require a slightly different diet than we do,” he said, then whispered, “As long as you don’t choose a green item, you’re safe.”

 

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