Rebel Heart

by Young, Christine

  "I see pain," Aisling murmured.

  "So do I," Cameron muttered. "Get on with it. Finish your story."

  Aisling moaned. "I see agony, a horrible suffering anguish. Only the slightest fraction of hope is there. An opponent, offering help. It is not what she wants to do. She is innocent, but...but betraying you."

  "Hell!" Cameron ground out irritably. "You're talking nonsense. One minute you speak of a fragile white flower and the next it sounds like a lover's betrayal. Pain and hope. That's all there is any more. Aisling, it has been a long day..." But deep inside he knew her words could easily be true. After all, if he wasn't mistaken, she was speaking of Victoria DeMontville.

  "She is the one that holds the flower, fragile, like a delicate porcelain doll, strong as her ancestors before her. He has located her, after all these years of banishment, for there is discord surrounding her; she creates it even as she breathes and her heart beats against her breast. She works passionately for the good of others. They'll come for her, again and again, seeking more than her knowledge, more than her beauty, seeking fortune and name, and all material things."

  "A rebel without purpose," Cameron muttered, tiring of her mad ravings, yet knowing full well whom she spoke of.

  "But a rebel who could be nurtured into a blossoming flower with the proper care," Aisling prompted.

  "Water and fertilizer?"

  "You purposely jest."

  "Aisling, I know that I must see Drake, and I do not intend to keep him waiting longer."

  Aisling's eyes were closed again. "Dove-gray eyes and whiskey-colored hair. A scent of summer sunshine and a cool mountain lake, skin like velvet. She is swimming amidst the waves, breakers toppling over her. Now I see her rising from the foam, sunlight beating against the sand, see the curve of her breast, the tender sweetness of her soul, the length of her legs, the innocent gentle nature of her heart..."

  "Aisling, unless you can wave your magic wand and conjure her this instant, be quiet," Cameron said with a hint of annoyance. Yet he was disturbed by everything the old lady had said. Aisling was annoying. Truly annoying. He had easily formed an image of the woman as Aisling spoke and he wanted more than anything to disprove her statements.

  A pain-filled shuddering swept through him. He discovered himself angered once more with Victoria DeMontville, with this woman who was destined to betray him. And he had no intention of joining with her, mind or body, on this quest of discovery.

  Yet still, when Aisling had described the woman...

  He had felt the most puzzling sensations, as if their destiny was truly intertwined.

  He tensed his muscles, fighting the illusions hovering in his mind, battling the nightmare that threatened the cities and the ghosts haunting his soul.

  "There is a foe to conquer. Move with caution and speed. Watch behind you and guard the girl with your life," Aisling warned.

  "Aisling..."

  "Sleep well, Cameron Savage," Aisling said as she turned to leave.

  Then just as she had come, she silently evaporated into the mist of darkness and forested mountains.

  "Damn." With long forceful strides, Cameron moved directly to Drake's lodgings.

  One of Drake's guards stood at the gates. "Cameron Savage?" the man asked cautiously. "I was told you were coming."

  Cameron arched a brow and strode past the guard. "Were you now?"

  "Savage," Drake boomed out.

  The tension in the room was brittle. Drake paced. Silence overrode all the revelry outside as if it were a carefully planned diversion for the news Drake waited to hand out.

  Drake was a formidable man. He was tall, with a head of deep chestnut hair and a handsome, well-sculptured face. His eyes were a clear hazel, a color that added a touch of humanism to an otherwise dangerous looking man. By nature, he was considerate, except when someone or something he held dear was threatened. Drake hesitated in his pacing, pointing to the table where documents and manuscripts had been strewn, but where now, atop those papers, lay all types of correspondence.

  Cameron did not move as he studied Drake. Drake's change of mood was oddly disconcerting.

  "Something wrong?"

  The calm facade seemed to dissipate from Drake. The lines of his brow drew together in a deep frown and he lifted a paper off the top of the stack. "Jonathan is concerned. He is weary of playing emissary and peacemaker in this deadly game. After all, if he fails, chaos will reign in the cities. The fear, Cameron. It is the fear, not the diseases, that creates the weakness."

  "I'm doing all I can. I'm not a diplomat, as well you know," Cameron reminded him.

  Drake poured him a glass of burgundy then slowly sipped his own, deep in thought for the moment. Cameron waited for Drake to continue.

  "Leave the fate of the entire nation to one man?" Drake asked then shook his head. "I know Jonathan is not the only clear-thinking man in the advisory committee, but he is the only one who speaks in favor of the Outsiders and maintains a level of consistency. Politically speaking, none of the others can be trusted. Civil war could erupt once more. Morray has come to the forefront and he is not without his followers."

  Cameron kept his silence. Quentin Morray was evil and treacherous. If he had followers, perhaps Drake's concern was warranted.

  "How powerful?"

  Again, the furrows deepened across Drake's brow.

  "Enough to cause worry among the council of representatives. He's a voting member now."

  "Could he sway the assembly?" Cameron asked.

  "Not yet, but he does have lobbyists, powerful ones waiting in the wings. Cameron paused. It was not his concern. If a vaccine was found, all Morray would try to do would be for naught. Without the debilitating fear of sickness, the City Dwellers would rally against him and his kind once again. The senate would be strong and listen to reason.

  But until that time Morray could squeeze the life from the people, and Jonathan, faced with a hungry foe, would have to scramble. Morray didn't hold all the power yet. He needed a catalyst within the City, someone the people loved and respected.

  A vacillating situation. Dangerous.

  "Morray will stop at nothing," Cameron said bluntly. "He's already one of the most powerful overlords in the country. But the coalition has no proof."

  Drake nodded. "I'm glad you agree with me. We must protect not only ourselves but the City people as well." Drake hesitated a moment. Then he said quietly, "That's exactly why you're going to team up with Tori DeMontville."

  Cameron laughed outright. Then he quickly downed his wine. "But I have just set up my lab; painstakingly, I might add."

  "True. I'll keep it running while you're gone," Drake said flatly.

  "I'm on the verge of a breakthrough. I've spent years getting to this point." Cameron's hold on the fragile stem of his wine glass threatened to snap it in two.

  Drake did not back down.

  "The news from Tower City bothers me more than any argument you could come up with. Too many thieftakers are growing far too bold. Outsiders, disillusioned with their lives, would trample their heritage as well as the cities into dust. Morray aligns himself with these men, slowly gathering them into a powerful force. It is a volatile situation and Tori is the catalyst he seeks. Cameron, you have worked hard the last two years, isolating yourself from all. Now you must do an about-face. You must cast yourself into the political arena. Remember your duty and your pledge to the late DeMontville."

  "A vow I was coerced into making."

  "And you are honor bound to keep."

  Cameron clenched his fists and sank into a chair. He could refuse this mission. Certainly. But then Drake would toss him from his lab. Drake's mind was set. "You needn't remind me," Cameron retaliated, his tone hard.

  "Endless possibilities await you on this path."

  The expression in Cameron's amber eyes turned guarded. "Very funny."

  "Hardly. Tori DeMontville will be in Tower City when you arrive. All her research notes will be there also. Isn't
that what you've secretly wished for? Access to her files? You knew this time would arrive."

  "This is all based on the theory that Tori DeMontville will cooperate," Cameron commented. "Do you truly think she'll allow me uninvited access to her data banks?"

  Drake grinned. "Now that sounds intimate. Perhaps you should try a little honey instead of the vinegar that flows from your mouth, and you'll have more success."

  Cameron arched a grim brow. "Have you ever tried to sweet talk a piranha?"

  Drake laughed loudly. "A piranha you say?"

  "Worse," Cameron continued politely. It really made no difference to him. He would handle her by whatever means he needed to establish absolute control.

  "Were you informed of the codicil to Advisor DeMontville's last will and testament?" Drake asked, steepling his fingers beneath his chin. "Jonathan had the temerity to write me a short and very concise note when he heard of your planned departure from Reding." He leaned close to Cameron. "Do you have any idea what he wrote? What the additions were?"

  "No. Tell me."

  "I thought you would never ask. It seems DeMontville knew his daughters well. Although this hasn't been done for hundreds of years, he saw fit to play the betrothal game. Quite underhandedly too. He bequeathed his entire estate and the hand of his daughter, Tori, to one Cameron Savage, refusing to allow Vanessa marriage or Tori complete ownership of the lab until Tori was safely wed."

  Marriage? No power on earth could entice him to marry Tori DeMontville. Except a solemn promise made to a man he respected. What did he care if Vanessa married, but he knew DeMontville would never leave it up to him. Cameron felt a debilitating curiosity.

  "My compliance?" he insisted.

  "Blackmail." Cameron started. Blackmail? Hell. The mere thought of the incident he referred to still heated his temper.

  Mentally, he recounted the meeting in the forest that day. The thieftakers surrounded Advisor DeMontville, the two thieves caught in the middle. After that, all hell broke loose. It was extremely dangerous. At the time, he had pitted himself against an organization he believed in, and worked for, in order to protect the laws he cherished.

  Didn't DeMontville know that no one else had been there that day in the woods when the thieftakers made their stand against him? No one had seen him. When he'd stepped from the trees, everyone else was either unconscious or had left the scene. No one knew, except DeMontville, that he'd interfered.

  Or could he possibly have entrusted the information with someone else, perhaps Jonathan, even if it created severe complications if the information reached certain people. If anyone discovered he'd stood against the thieftakers...

  "Jonathan," he said, as his gaze met Drake's.

  "Well," Drake demanded, "and do you recall a solemn promise you made to Advisor DeMontville?"

  "I remember the promise."

  What difference did it make? Cameron wondered for one bleak moment. There were women like Zaria in the world to satisfy a man's physical needs.

  And he decided wryly, any female could be managed.

  Any woman at all.

  And more so than most, Tori DeMontville needed to be governed. Ruthlessly governed.

  He stretched out his hand. Drake clasped it in his own.

  "This is always such a pleasure." he said, his words spoken in a deceptive drawl.

  Drake laughed.

  "For luck then, Savage. Is this so bad?"

  "Yes. I'll need all the luck in the world just to survive her tantrums. I can well imagine her reaction when she discovers the codicil for herself.

  "Oh, she already has--in a way. The terms were read to her, but Jonathan, coward that he is, did not give her your name. Yet even then, she refused nourishment for three days, setting the convent in turmoil."

  Cameron felt long fingers of foreboding slowly squeeze his heart. "I'm supposed to wed this termagant."

  Cameron walked out into the revelry into the blazing summer night.

  Damn Jonathan...and old Aisling. He was doomed.

  He drew in a sharp breath, recalling the old lady's prophecy.

  Pain and betrayal.

  Hope.

  Tori DeMontville. The intellectual with the beguiling dove-gray eyes, and the thick whiskey colored hair...

  Wild and impetuous as a summer storm.

  Ah, but they would have the joining of two minds. If we don't kill each other first, he thought to himself. Actually, there was a challenge to this arrangement, perhaps even a compromise in the making. Access to her data banks. She would fight him.

  He would not allow her opportunity to betray him.

  His grin spread slowly across his face. Perhaps Tori DeMontville had met her match. As his wife, she would owe him certain compensations. Strangely, he remembered telling Jonathan he would gladly see to her obedience. He had simply not imagined he was volunteering.

  Suddenly, he was eager to confront his destiny. Tower City awaited him as well as a woman.

  "It seems there are some very archaic additions, yet binding in the extreme," he mumbled softly to himself. "Very binding."

  Kaitlyn

  "You cannot return," Drake told the man sitting by the window.

  "Robert, your survival is more important than anything else. Even this far away you have had an impact on the coalition. The letters and the books you have written have set the mood of an entire country," Kaitlyn said.

  Robert had aged in the last few years as they all had. His hair was graying and lines of worry etched deeply around his eyes. Pretending to be dead, the last seven years of life spent in isolation and under as assumed name had seemed to drain energy from his very sole.

  She loved him more today than the day they married.

  "Quentin Morray has to be stopped. I cannot sit by and watch him gain power and money while I do nothing. I know that distance from the seat of power does not help the cause or the coalition. So many medical strides have been made in the last seven years. Mistakes of the past will not be made again. The people must give this a chance." His jaw tensed.

  Kaitlyn watched as the snow fell to the ground, covering the earth in a blanket of white, reminiscing the past seeming to take over much of her time. Happier days were something she longed for with all her heart. The last seven years had been filled with a peace she knew would not last but she had also felt a huge hole in her heart. "The girls are well prepared to take on the lab. Nessa has grown in every way imaginable." Moisture filled her eyes as one lone tear slid down her cheek and she hastily wiped it away.

  "And Tori is just as rebellious as she has ever been," Robert said, a smile lighting up his face at his words. "She and Cameron Savage should get along quite nicely. No boring moments for them."

  "Her courage knows no boundaries. Tea anyone?" Kaitlyn asked, abruptly changing the subject and turning away from those who might be able to read her emotions.

  "I would like that," Drake said with a laugh. "I'm not really the tea drinking type. Any spirits to put in it?"

  Robert nodded, seemingly absorbed in thoughts, his face blank and eyes focused somewhere out the window. Kaitlyn would have liked to be privy to those thoughts. She knew from experience he would share what he wanted when he wanted.

  Kaitlyn moved from Robert's side to the tea tray that had just been delivered to the parlor. She poured three cups, bringing Drake and Robert a cup along with sugar and milk. "Spirits in the liquor cabinet if you are so inclined," she said.

  "And that truth is what frightens me the most," De Montville said frowning. "If she still has a knack for finding trouble, I'm sure Quentin Morray will be on her doorstep within the hour of her arrival in the city."

  "Needless to say, until the snow stops falling and melts, there is no way for you to return home. You will have to content yourself with letters to respectable senators and the advisors within the city," Drake said.

  "Jonathan is gaining respect and with that comes power. The other senators are listening to him. You do not have to return and put
your life in danger once more." Kaitlyn wondered if she was self-centered. They had shared so much in the last few years. She didn't want their life together to end. She would miss him so much. She didn't think she could do this a second time.

  "You must leave the dangerous work to the younger generation. Look inward and evaluate what you have to offer and the best way to have the biggest impact." Drake said. "I have spoken with Cameron Savage. His lab has made great strides. He has worked diligently on a cure for the virus. I have heard he is on the threshold of a new discovery." Drake cleared his throat.

  "Tori and Nessa will return to Tower City within the week. All that can be done has been done," Kaitlyn said, wishing she could be there to meet them, to protect them. No, they were competent adults. They didn't need her mothering or her protection.