“The House of Aune and the House of Joon,” Charlotte said thoughtfully. “Are there other houses?”
“There are a total of six. When Frim dar Joon launched his campaign to reorder life on Ontariese, each of the six great houses was forced to choose sides. The House of Joon rules the Reformation Sect and the House of Aune heads the Traditionalist Sect.”
“And the two sects have been at war ever since?” No wonder he hated Dez dar Joon.
“For many cycles—which is roughly equivalent to your years—the Traditionalist Sect was much more powerful than the Reformation Sect. We did our best to ignore their radical views and continue on as we had always lived.”
He paused and his gaze drifted off into the distance. Whatever happened next had affected him personally and painfully. Charlotte knew the expression all too well. She didn’t rush him. She knew how that felt too.
“Twenty-five cycles after the Great Conflict began, Fro dar Joon, Frim’s son, declared war on the Traditionalist Sect. Frim had terrorized E’Lanna, but his focused aggression was nothing compared to the chaos his son unleashed.” He swallowed, and when he spoke again, his voice was deeper, softer. “Life was changed in ways you cannot imagine. The peaceful Ontariese that had flourished for eight millennia ceased to exist. The evil ambition of one man…”
“How long has the conflict been going on?” she asked.
“This is cycle eighty-nine of the Great Conflict. Six cycles ago, Shadow Assassins killed my mother and two sisters. In the past fifty cycles, no female bearing the name of Aune has been allowed to live.”
Pity and compassion gripped her heart. She went to him. Kneeling in front of his chair, she captured his hands in hers. He allowed her touch and his gaze caressed her face.
“Do they only target women?” she asked gently, feeling sick inside.
“Women? My sisters were six and nine, hardly women. They kept my mother alive for three weeks before they allowed her to die. But yes, the vast majority of their victims are female.”
He took a deep breath. Charlotte felt his fingers tighten against hers and then he rushed on.
“Because the House of Aune is matriarchal, Fro dar Joon knew that slaughtering our women would force us to conform to their reformations. Many joined the Reformation Sect out of fear or some hope that they could end the Great Conflict. Still bowing to their insanity is abandoning everything Ontariese was and could be again. The Traditionalist Sect must defend the ancient ways and the sacred codes.”
He spread his legs and Charlotte moved closer. “How can you defend yourselves against such ruthlessness?” she whispered. The spicy scent that always surrounded him grew stronger. Was it released by emotion?
“Since the onset of the Great Conflict, every female Aune has been hidden, born in secret and forced to use whatever means necessary to conceal their identities.”
“But the House of Joon finds them?”
“It does not seem to matter what we do, Reformation spies are everywhere. And their Shadow Assassins… They’re Mystics recruited because of their skill-set and conditioned to be ruthless, nearly mindless murderers.” He could not speak for a time. “My mother and sisters were the last females with even the faintest of blood ties to the High Queen. With their deaths, we thought the Reformation Sect had finally accomplished their objective, yet Joon did not seem satisfied.”
She sat back on her heels, stunned as she realized what he was implying. “You think I’m one of these…descendants?”
“What I think is not important.” His hands closed around her upper arms and he drew her back to her knees, bringing her close against his chest. “This must be what Dez dar Joon believes. It is the only reason he would seek you out. The only reason he would question your parentage.”
She licked her lips and stared up into his eyes. “But it isn’t possible. How could it be possible? It would mean that I’m—not human.”
“You said you had dreams of a woman you believe to be your mother. Can you form her image within your mind?”
“I’ll try.” She closed her eyes and pictured the woman who had haunted her dreams for as long as she could remember.
His fingers brushed against her temple. “Can you clarify her face?”
Shaking her head, she opened her eyes. “Her face is always in shadow. I’ve never seen her clearly.”
His hand returned to her arm, his thumbs lightly rubbing. “I need to scan you, Charlotte. We need to know.”
She stiffened, knowing he was right but dreading the invasion. “I… The night I found you on the mountain, the strangest thing happened. I wiped the mirror and when I looked at my reflection, my eyes were swirling like yours.”
“Has it happened since?”
“No. I thought I was seeing things. You had me just a little stressed out.”
He smiled and traced the curve of her cheek with his fingertip. “Let me scan you. I’ll only touch what you allow me to touch. It shouldn’t take me long to determine if you have any spark of Ontarian energy. That’s all we need to know.”
His hands moved to frame her face and she trembled. She grabbed his wrists and arched away from him. “But you took energy from me. Weren’t you able to tell if it was human or Ontarian?”
“Charlotte,” he said softly. “I won’t hurt you. This is different than what I did before, much easier. When I took energy from you, I was nearly dead. I was too weak to scan you. Just try to relax.”
She closed her eyes, waiting for the push, the alien penetration of his mind into hers. His thumbs brushed across her cheeks and his fingers sank into her hair. Her breathing shuddered and she pressed her lips tightly together.
“Relax,” he whispered. His lips brushed against the corner of her mouth as he whispered the word again.
“Kiss me,” she said, needing a distraction from her fear.
He touched the other corner of her mouth with a light, teasing kiss then gently rubbed his lips across hers. Charlotte tilted her head to the side and parted her lips. His mouth pressed, moved and caressed. She didn’t understand the sudden urgency that expanded within her but she wrapped her arms around him and stroked him with her tongue.
She captured his throaty groan in her open mouth and became bolder. Arching into him, she tasted him, fascinated by the texture and the heat of his mouth.
One of his hands moved to splay across the back of her head and his arm circled her waist, pulling her more tightly against him. He kissed her deeply with slow, sensual sweeps of his tongue.
She couldn’t think. Her head spun and her senses filled with Tal. She wanted more. She wanted him.
His hand found the hem of her sweater and bunched the material until he found bare skin. Clutching his back, she met each thrust of his tongue eagerly with her own. His hand stroked her back, his kiss devoured her mouth and gradually she felt his touch within her mind.
He was careful, tender, and she opened to him, letting him explore. They continued kissing long after the scan had finished. The intimacy soothed her, feeding her basic need for affection.
Tal drew away, his lips lingering against her skin.
“What did you find?” she asked, breathless and tingly.
“I am not sure,” he confessed. He rested back in the chair but took her hands in a loose grip, preventing her from retreating entirely. “You seem human and yet there is something different as well. I cannot explain it but there were gaps, areas that were inaccessible to me.”
“Is that unusual? I wasn’t blocking you intentionally.”
“I know. And yes, it is highly unusual.”
“Then could he be right? Am I Ontarian?”
His gaze searched her face before he relented with a frustrated shrug. “I do not know.”
She pulled her hands from his and stood. “But Joon must. He knows something we don’t or he wouldn’t be here.”
“That would seem likely.”
Her heart pounded and she pushed her fingers through her hair. “If he think
s I’m a descendent, it can only mean one thing. Dez dar Joon means to kill me.”
Chapter Six
Standing at the kitchen window, Charlotte enjoyed the extraordinary view. Beyond the rows of charming Victorian cottages rose Aspen Mountain, ski runs streaking its face like undulating stripes. A sky so blue it seemed to glow provided a backdrop for fluffy white clouds.
“Charlotte.”
She glanced over her shoulder. Tal stood in the archway and her pulse picked up speed. She felt his gaze travel over every inch of her exposed skin. Did he do it intentionally? Was he able to stimulate her nerve endings with just a look?
“Dro Tar will bring you food when she returns. She suggested you enjoy the bathing facilities within her chamber.”
Charlotte hadn’t heard a phone ring. “How did she contact you?”
“She contacted Trey and he contacted me. My telepathic abilities require an initial linking. I’m not linked with Dro Tar.”
“I see,” she said, setting down her glass. She didn’t understand half of what he said. Or she understood his meaning, she just had no idea how such things were possible.
A long, hot bubble bath suddenly sounded very appealing.
The “bathing facilities” proved to be a large, jetted tub. She carefully locked the bathroom door and turned on the water. A spa-style bathrobe was folded neatly on a shelf in the walk-in closet. She set it beside the tub.
She poured liquid bubble bath under the running water and the soothing scent of lavender filled the air. A glass of wine would have elevated the scenario from pleasant to perfect but she wasn’t complaining. She quickly shed her clothes and sank into the sudsy water’s warm embrace.
Relaxing against the sloped contour of the tub, she waited for the water to cover the intake valve so she could activate the jets. She pushed her thumb against the stiff button, listened to the rumbling hum then groaned as the water pulsed rhythmically all around her.
She closed her eyes and let the tension seep from every muscle in her body. How could so much stress be packed into less than two days? It felt like a lifetime since the first crash of thunder disrupted her solitude.
Images rolled through her mind as she lazily reviewed the events. She’d felt only fear and pity when she first saw Tal’s gaunt face, but his touch sent her senses reeling and tempted her with possibilities. He emanated power and mystery. Yet he could be kind and protective. She wanted to understand him. She wanted to… She didn’t know what she wanted. A shapeshifting alien had no place in her well-ordered life.
As if to mock that conclusion, his face solidified within her mind. He smiled and her lips parted of their own volition. She felt the feathery brush of his fingertips against her cheek and gasped. His touch had been tangible, distinct.
She tried to open her eyes but felt disoriented, as if she floated in an endless sea, not a bathtub. The sensations pulled her, drew her deeper into the sensual spell. Her head lolled against the tub, her arms floating at her sides. Lethargy stole her strength and curiosity overcame her fear.
This wasn’t real. It was a vivid fantasy, a continuation of the feelings he had unleashed with his kisses. She felt secure within the illusion, free to explore her own desires.
She concentrated and focused until she saw him clearly. He stood beside the tub, smiling down at her. Without a word, he tugged off his boots and shifted out of his long vest, leaving his chest bare.
He knelt, his smoky gaze boring into hers. Her heartbeat accelerated and she slowly licked her lips. Muscles bunched across his shoulders. His chest and abdomen rippled with intriguing definition. She wanted to touch him, to stroke her hands over each contour of his torso. Still she couldn’t move.
“Relax,” he whispered. “Let me touch you.”
She heard his words, but like the images, his voice was inside her head. His fingers stroked along her jaw and her tongue darted out nervously. This wasn’t real. So why could she feel his fingers?
His thumb traced her lower lip and she touched it with the tip of her tongue. She tasted the faint salt of his skin.
This wasn’t real.
Leaning over her, he squeezed her shoulders and ran his hands down her arms. She heard a faint splash as his hands sank beneath the surface of the water and felt his knuckles brush the outer swell of her breasts. A shiver racked her body and she felt her nipples gather beneath the bubbles.
This wasn’t real.
Fear speared through the sensual lassitude and Charlotte tried to struggle. She couldn’t move. She could feel his hands sliding across her flesh but she couldn’t move. Panic welled up within her. This wasn’t right.
“Stop it,” she whispered. “Please, stop.”
His features fluctuated subtly. A flash of turquoise flickered through his eyes.
This wasn’t Tal!
This couldn’t be real!
But she could still feel his hands. He caressed her neck and dipped again to cup her breast. “Oh yes,” he murmured.
Charlotte battled the illusion. She fought the images, screaming and screaming, but she knew the sound was only in her mind.
“I know who you are,” she shouted. “I know what you’re doing!”
“Do you?” The voice changed and then the image. His features sharpened, his face narrowed. The long strands of his hair faded to white and his eyes turned turquoise. His hands slowly circled her neck and he grinned. “It’s really very simple. You come to me tonight or you die here and now. I would prefer to be your mentor, but I cannot allow you to fall into the hands of the Mystics. They have done too much damage already.”
His hands tightened around her throat and Charlotte gasped for breath. She felt her airway compress and close.
She couldn’t breathe!
In terrified waves of panic, she broadcast her peril. She reached out with every fiber of her being for Tal, for Dro Tar, for any creature in the universe capable of hearing.
The pressure on her throat loosened and Joon brushed her brow with a mocking kiss. “I’ll make this even easier. Show me where you are. I’ll come to you. Surely that’s better than death. I don’t want to hurt you.”
Someone pounded on the door.
“Show me now!” Joon demanded. “Make your choice.”
She felt hands shaking her. And still the illusion remained. She could see Joon, could feel his hands choking her, but in reality, someone shook her body and frantically called her name.
Her body was dragged from the tub and clutched against something warm and solid. Tal’s voice called to her from very far away.
“Don’t fight him. Fight the illusion. He can only hurt you if you believe it’s real.”
She focused on Tal’s voice, clung to the hope triggered by his words.
“This isn’t real,” she whispered, staring directly into Joon’s turquoise eyes. “You are not real.”
The pressure around her throat lessened and she quickly drew in a deep breath.
“I’m real enough to snap your neck,” he sneered then his expression softened. “But that’s not what I want for us. Show me where you are and I’ll protect you forever—or defy me and pay the price.” His eyes narrowed and the pressure increased again.
“Charlotte, let me in,” Tal insisted. “Accept me into your mind.”
She felt the push of Tal’s entry but she didn’t fight it. She welcomed him, opened eagerly, and he materialized within the illusion.
Tal wrapped his arm around Joon’s throat and ordered, “Let her go!”
Joon struggled, rocking forward and jerking back. He twisted his hands but lacked the leverage to snap her neck. Tal plunged his thumb and forefinger into Joon’s eyes and Joon screamed.
Joon butted the back of his head against Tal’s chest. She heard the crack of bone on bone. Tal continued the pressure against Joon’s eyes, but Joon’s hands remained locked around her throat.
This isn’t real! She repeated the words in her mind, forcing herself to accept their truth. Her senses reject
ed the fact. She could see him. She could feel him—and she couldn’t breathe.
Rage threatened Tal’s control. He wanted to rip Dez dar Joon’s head from his body but that wouldn’t help Charlotte. She had to force Joon from her mind or she would die.
“Charlotte,” Tal said urgently. “Stop fighting him. Relax and your throat will open. He is not really choking you. He has made you believe an illusion.”
Her terror-glazed eyes stared up at Joon. She was not listening.
“Charlotte, look at me. Look only at me.”
She dragged her gaze away from Joon and looked at Tal directly. He immediately intensified their link. He filled her mind with images, confusing the illusion, weakening its hold. She gasped and sucked in a ragged breath.
“He’s not real. He’s not here.” Tal commanded her attention with his voice. “Look at me, Charlotte. Come back to me.”
Tal felt the illusion slipping.
“You’re not real,” she croaked out, her gaze moving back to Joon.
Tal blocked Joon’s sudden mental lunge. He absorbed the energy before it reached her, pain ricocheting through his being. He recoiled from the mental assault, momentarily losing focus. Joon’s presence intensified and his smug laughter rang through the illusion.
“You’re not real,” she said more forcefully. She raised her arms and peeled Joon’s hands away from her throat. “Get out of my mind.”
Joon muttered a curse and turned on Tal. “You cannot protect her forever, seyati. If she steps beyond your grasp for even a moment, I will find her.”
Tal didn’t respond to Joon. The illusion disintegrated, taking Joon’s image with it.
Tal sat on the bathroom floor, cradling Charlotte’s trembling body against his chest. He stroked her back and rocked her gently. She clung to him, dragging air into her lungs in long, ragged gasps.
Not again! Never again would a Joon harm an Aune. Not while Tal lived and breathed. His body shook with determination and he buried his face in her hair. He had to get her to Vee. Vee would know how to unlock the hidden spaces within her mind. Vee had access to knowledge even Tal didn’t understand.
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