by Ivy Barrett
He stirred and shifted, the sheet dipping low over his hips. Ignoring the temptation of his muscular body, she brushed his hair back from his forehead and whispered his name. Nightmares were a common affliction for restless spirits. Should she wake him or would it be more productive to attempt a dream meld? Both Miranda and their mother could effortlessly join their consciousness with others. During her ascension, Serena had sensed what Baylott and Kapali were experiencing. This was different yet likely within her power.
She focused on his strands, allowing the colorful flow to lull her. Terror blasted across the telepathic link and she gasped. She sensed the emotion, understood how profoundly it affected Matt, yet remained isolated from the fear.
His strands curled around her fingers then sank through her flesh. She groaned as the intensity increased. Determination drove back the fear and a faint image flickered within her mind. Hazy, the scene remained unfocused despite her struggle to clarify the image.
She saw a bed, not the wide comfortable resting place of a healthy man, but the narrow adjustable treatment table of an invalid. A man sagged against the mattress, emaciated, dying. Despite the tubes protruding from his face and body, he struggled for breath and shuddered with pain.
Who was he? Why was Matt dreaming of this old man?
A shadow fell across the bed. The old man shifted his weary gaze to a person Serena couldn’t see.
“Did you come to gloat?” His voice was thin and raspy.
“My life will not begin until yours ends.” Serena couldn’t see Matt, but she recognized his voice.
“Then get on with it. What are you waiting for?”
Strong, long fingers wrapped around the old man’s throat. His eyes widened and then he went wild, writhing and clawing at the hands, arching and bucking.
Serena had seen enough. Easing out of the meld, she pushed against the mattress and sat beside him. Matt twisted on the bed, fighting off the unseen assailant. He moved as if he were the man being strangled. He gasped, his breath wheezing and constrained.
“Matt.” She shook his shoulders. “Wake up. You’re dreaming.” He batted her hands aside and shoved her backward. “Matt, wake up!” Not wanting to find herself beneath him with his hands around her throat, she smacked him with a pillow.
The second blow brought him out of the nightmare. He shot up in bed and blinked repeatedly. “Where… What happened?”
“You were thrashing around like a wild thing, muttering in your sleep. Do you remember what the dream was about?”
He looked at her with wide, cautious eyes then shook his head. “It was just a dream.”
She couldn’t ask him about the old man without admitting she’d been in his mind. “That was a pretty violent dream. You don’t remember any of it?”
“I think someone was trying to strangle me.”
Or you were trying to strangle someone. His strands pulsed rhythmically, drawing attention to the unnatural constrictions. There was no indication of deceit, just frustration and conflict.
“Why would someone want to strangle you? Do you have enemies?”
“Not the sort who hunt you down and strangle you in your sleep.” He expelled a ragged breath. “I’ve always been my own worst enemy.”
“How often do you have nightmares?”
“Far more often than I’d thought possible.” Keeping the sheet pulled to his waist, he propped himself against the wall. “Give my mind a minute to clear and I’ll be fine.”
“Would you like something to drink? If I mix tersatta juice with hertinel tea it has a soothing quality.”
He shook his head. “Just talk to me.”
She sat facing him with her legs folded in front of her. The fullness of her robe covered her legs despite her immodest position. “You know more about me than I know about you. Do you have family? What do you do when you’re not designing fully functioning pleasure ’bots?”
“There’s not a lot to tell.” The tension eased from his posture, but the shadows remained in his eyes. “You know about my work and my work was my life for far too long.”
“Do you have siblings? Are your parents still alive?”
“I was accepted for citizenship on Halley Prime when I was nineteen. My father had been assigned to Chiron during the evacuation, but the life of a farmer held no appeal for me.”
She’d heard stories of the destruction of their homeworld, but it all took place before she’d been born. Each outpost served a unique purpose within the coalition, supplying a specific need. At least that’s the way it was supposed to work.
Temple-Tuttle, the spiritual center of the coalition, had remained neutral, mercifully removed from the recent rebellion.
“Your father remained on Chiron?”
“Until the day he died.” He rubbed his eyes. The fatigue in his expression made Serena think of the old man. “I secured visitor passes for him numerous times. He had no interest in leaving Chiron. Life was hard, but he said it was ‘honest labor’.”
“Meaning the way you make your living is not?”
“The way I made my living. That’s why I’m here. I have to let go of my past once and for all or it will destroy me.”
* * * * *
In the subterranean level of the Dark Star, Petra picked her way through the rubble of the burned-out laboratory. Memories pelted her from every side. Enthusiasm had bubbled within Matthias each time he showed her his latest invention. He smiled readily yet secrets lurked in his eyes. She had shared his life, perhaps his affection, but never the full devotion of his heart. There was a part of him she’d never been allowed to see, much less experience.
Though soot covered the floor and everything within the rooms had been reduced to charred debris, the walls were structurally sound. When she’d built her empire, she’d built it to last, and Matthias had hidden beneath her skirts, constructing his domain directly under the Dark Star.
The arrangement had worked wonderfully for years. Matthias maintained the anonymity he craved and she had control over the elusive Toymaker. So, how had it all gone so horribly wrong? Her meaningless indiscretions had been an attempt to regain his attention. Why hadn’t he been able to see that?
Matthias had ended his career with the elusive drama for which he was well known. He’d literally gone out in a blaze of glory, leaving her isolated and alone.
“I thought I might find you down here.”
The deep, rumbling voice belonged to Ebon, her head of security. He had been a popular Pleasure Master before announcing his retirement. Knowing the Palace inside and out had allowed him to slip effortlessly into his new role. Petra, on the other hand, was still smarting from his predecessor’s betrayal. She had no reason to doubt Ebon. He had served her faithfully for years. Still, it would be a very long time before she offered her trust to anyone.
“Was there something in particular you needed?” She turned to face Ebon, fighting to suppress the sorrow in her eyes. He was tall and heavily muscled, a handsome man ten years beyond his prime.
“Why don’t you seal off this level and be done with it?” He crossed his arms over his chest, a hint of impatience gleaming in his dark gaze. “There’s nothing here but bad memories.”
“I can’t stand loose ends. I need to know how he did it.”
“How he did what? You saw his body, Petra. Matthias is dead.”
“There is no way he slipped into oblivion without a parting shot.” She turned in a slow circle, visually searching the charred remains. No clue, no scrap of research. Matthias had left nothing behind. “The only thing that makes sense is if disappearing was his parting shot.”
“You need to let it go. Even if he is alive—which is impossible—this obsession is unhealthy. Matthias is part of your past. Focus on your future.”
“Matthias is out there. I can sense him.”
“Just for the sake of argument, let’s say you locate him. What good will it do? I’ve been around almost as long as you have. I know Matthias considered yo
ur relationship over long before he disappeared.”
She glared at him and flipped her hair out of her eyes. “Are you trying to piss me off?”
“No, I’m trying to make you stop wasting time on memories. Life doesn’t hold much appeal when you continually stare into the past.”
He turned and departed as abruptly as he’d come. She knew he was right, but it didn’t help. She’d tried getting over Matthias. She’d busied herself with work and torrid affairs. Nothing eased the ache. No matter what she did, her stubborn heart refused to let go.
Chapter Six
Serena and Matt spent the following day in casual conversation. Each time she brought up the nightmare, he changed the subject and all her questions regarding his past received polite evasions. In turn, she avoided the details of her ascension. It was a frustrating dance. They circled each other at a constant distance, neither willing to be vulnerable.
After a hearty midday meal, she suggested they climb to one of her favorite locations, a plateau overlooking the valley. They gathered basic supplies for the long hike and he put everything into his backpack. As they started through the jungle, Serena was disappointed by Matt’s quiet. He trailed behind her, his mood sullen and introspective.
“Have I done something to offend you?” She faced him, hands planted on her hips. In deference to the rugged terrain, she’d donned a short-sleeved jacket of red and gold with matching black shorts. Leather half boots protected her feet, and she’d braided her long hair.
“Your guards are making me uncomfortable.” Matt wore shorts and a T-shirt with the same boots she’d noticed when he originally stepped out of the jungle.
“What guards? Lutton dismissed my guards.”
“They were outside your cottage last night and have been trailing us all day. Do you doubt my ability to protect you?”
Before she could reassure him, he shrugged off his backpack and swung it to the ground near her feet then darted off through the trees. Branches snapped and grunts ensued. What was he doing? As if to answer her question, Matt reappeared a short time later, holding Fyn by the scruff of the neck.
Matt shoved the struggling guard to his knees as Vitik flew at him from the opposite direction. With a firm kick, Matt sent Vitik flying backward into the bushes. Matt snatched Vitik’s spear away from the stunned guard and snapped it over his thigh.
“I am fully capable of guarding Serena. Leave us the hell alone!”
Fyn struggled to his feet, chest heaving. She repeated Matt’s order in Perrlain.
“We will not leave you with this stranger.” Fyn handed Vitik the broken halves of his spear and stared at Matt with a combination of humiliation and mistrust. “It is our sworn duty to ensure your safety.”
“And it is my duty to balance his soul stream. How am I supposed to accomplish that if you’re distracting him?”
“We will not leave you,” Vitik insisted. “The order comes from Chief Amayis himself.”
“Then back off. Follow at a distance. You only need to be close enough to hear me scream.”
“There are many kinds of screams,” Fyn said with a smirk. “Which shall we interrupt?”
“If I am in need of your assistance, I’ll make sure you know it.”
They left the guards grumbling in the middle of the path. Matt grabbed his backpack, shot the guards a scathing glower then followed her up the narrow trail.
“Are you really in danger, or is your father being paranoid?” he asked some time later. “Tell me what’s going on.”
Perhaps if she trusted him with her secrets, he would open up to her. Hyalee had already given him a general idea of what transpired. Serena only needed to fill in the details to be free of the incident forever.
“Chief Amayis is not being paranoid and he is not my father.”
He paused and looked at her. “What are you talking about?”
“I was conceived when one of the Wikoli sorcerers forced himself on Naneka. He appeared to her as Chief Amayis, but she saw through the illusion and did her best to fight him off.”
“I’m sorry.” He sounded sincere. “I had no idea.”
“It was not a random act of violence. We believe it was a carefully planned violation, one meant to result in my birth.”
He reached for her hand, his tenderness uncharacteristic yet welcome. “Does your mother know who attacked her?”
She shook her head. Having lived with the shame her entire life, she was able to distance herself from the events. “She only knows he was Wikoli.”
He glanced off into the shadows. “It’s almost too horrible to suggest, but could the same man…”
She knew what he was thinking. The vile possibility that her biological father had invaded her ascension had crossed her mind more than once. “I sensed the villain before he could harm me. I’m safe. That’s all that matters.”
“I agree, but why have the Wikoli gone to all this trouble? Are soul seers so unique?”
“I’m not sure this has anything to do with my ability. The person who attacked my mother had no way of knowing what gift I would possess.”
“He knew the women of your family are strongly gifted by the Deity. As you said, this smacks of premeditation.”
She studied his profile for a moment, comforted by his strength yet undeniably aware of his masculinity. “You almost sound like you believe all this superstitious nonsense.”
“If I hadn’t met Miranda and witnessed her abilities, I might be more skeptical.”
They walked for a time in silence. He held back branches when the path was overgrown and helped her over craggy rocks on their way to the summit. She found his care charming, yet his reluctance to talk frustrated her.
A fresh breeze cooled her cheeks and dried the perspiration trickling between her breasts. She glanced at the clear blue sky, half afraid she’d see the hawk circling.
“How do the Wikoli differ from the Perrlain?” His musing tone drew her gaze from the sky. “How long have the two tribes been at war?”
“At one time, not that long ago, we were all one tribe,” she told him. He hiked behind her as the trail steepened. His hand cupped her elbow or pressed against her back from time to time, keeping the current of awareness flowing. “Temple-Tuttle was settled before Shardrake was struck by the comet. My ancestors came here seeking a simple, spiritually focused life.”
“Who instigated the hostilities?”
“The Wikoli have taken our beliefs and twisted them. They shun materialism, as do we, but their focus is no longer bringing honor to the Deity. The Wikoli live only to please themselves.”
“I’m not sure that answers my question.”
“We are not actually at war with the Wikoli. There have been no aggressive campaigns or violent battles. As time progressed, we developed different philosophies. We drew closer as a community, unwilling to allow outsiders to taint our beliefs. The Wikoli looked for ways to benefit from offworld curiosity.”
“So the Wikoli encourage tourists?”
“Definitely. They eagerly bartered and… This is all beside the point. You will not be interacting with the Wikoli and neither will I.” She glanced over her shoulder with a sigh. “Twice now I’ve offered you insight and candor. Both times you’ve responded by moving farther away from me.”
He chuckled. “You slept in my arms last night after I kissed you in one of the most intimate ways a man can kiss a woman. I don’t see how we can get much closer.”
“Tell me about Halley Prime.” She kept her tone light and conversational, not wanting this to become an argument. “What was the name of this place where you invented your…”
“Toys? I was once the finest toymaker in the entire galaxy. My inventions were in great demand. No one could equal their craftsmanship or ingenuity.”
“Did knowing others found pleasure with your toys fulfill you as a person?”
“As my reputation grew, I was able to network with other scientists. We applied my technologies to nonsexual a
pplications.”
She tried to keep the confusion from her expression, not wanting to return his attention to how different her world was from his. He glanced at her and chuckled.
“I’m not explaining this very well. Biomechanical and bioelectronic technologies can be used to replace arms, legs, even internal organs.”
“I’ve never seen someone with an artificial limb.”
“Not that you’re aware of. Cybernetic limbs are designed to be indistinguishable from the real thing. The really sophisticated ones even sweat and bleed.”
They reached the summit a short time later. Serena watched Matt’s reaction to her home. The wonder in his expression made it all seem new again. He took in verdant hills and meandering rivers before his gaze settled on the distant splendor of the Cliffs of Enarre.
“This is amazing,” he murmured, leaning his hip against a rock outcropping as he took a drink of water from the pouch slung over his shoulder.
“It’s an arduous trek, but I’ve always found it worth the effort.”
He nodded, staring out across the majestic vista.
She’d allowed him to dodge her questions long enough. Many people wanted to reshape their lives after facing death. She needed to understand why so much regret was threaded through his soul strands.
“Were others harmed when you became ill?” He didn’t immediately reply, so she asked, “Did you lose someone important to you?”
“You showed me yours, now it’s time to show you mine?” He continued to stare out over the valley, but a smile curved his lips.
“In more ways than one.”
After a quick sidelong glance, he began his tale. “The Dark Star caters to the most affluent citizens of Halley Prime. For the right price, they’ll provide any imaginable pleasure.”
She couldn’t imagine paying for sexual pleasure, but she kept the objection to herself. They had already established the glaring differences between their worlds.