Time to maneuver, give a little, take a little. “Mr. Jorkan, how long to look into the feasibility of landing Mondragon and his friends on Psyclid?”
“A day to red-flag the mission as too dangerous. If it’s not, fifty hours to work out a plan.”
“A compromise, Mondragon,” Tal said. “We will consider the problem of landing you and your team on Psyclid on one condition. Kiolani stays here.”
“No!” Kass’s amber eyes blazed. He’d really pissed her off this time. Did she want to leave him that badly, or was she simply challenging his orders? Again.
“S’sorrokan’s conditions, take it or leave it,” Tal intoned. “Remember me? I’m the man with the transportation.”
Mondragon didn’t even glance at his companions for their reaction, but he exchanged a long look with Kass. A look Tal didn’t like. “Very well,” the sorcerer said, “condition accepted.”
Kass came close to shooting to her feet, right then and there, and informing them that she ruled here. Any decisions of this kind were hers to make, not anyone else’s. But if she did, Tal really would find a way to lock her up. So far he seemed to consider Jagan’s “Highness” a joke, but if he knew the truth, he would never risk the life of Psyclid’s Princess Royal.
And, besides, she really didn’t want to leave him. Or Astarte. Or Zee-Zee, Dorn, Mical, Anton, Joss . . . Ah, goddess, and what about K’kadi? As soon as the ship landed, he’d dashed off to visit his mother. She couldn’t just go off again and leave him. Not now, when she’d finally realized how selfish she’d been to follow her own willful path, abandoning all those she’d left behind.
But if she hadn’t, she wouldn’t have Tal.
Or all the anguish that went with him.
He was about to wind up the meeting, she realized, all plans on hold until Dorn’s report was ready. “Captain,” Kass inserted quickly. “Jagan has, as usual, not been entirely truthful.” All heads turned her way. For the first time in days she could feel Tal. Perhaps, after all, there were emotions that remained untrampled. “Coordinating Psyclid talents into what we call enlasé is a dangerous practice, strictly forbidden. That much combined power could easily explode into the same kind of tyranny we are trying to put down.”
“I can control it,” Jagan asserted.
“You cannot be certain.” Kass held up an imperious hand. “Which is why we need to visit Crystalia, consult with the king and the ParaPrime before we take so much as one step toward Jagan’s plan.”
“I do not agree—”
Kass waved Jagan’s protest aside. “Do not be so full of yourself, Jagan, that you forget the power of the ParaPrime or the respect given her by our people. You ran. She stayed and faced the invasion, shoulder to shoulder with Ryal. She endured an occupation while you were wallowing in the pleasure palaces of Hell Nine.”
Careful, my pet, or I’ll turn you into a slimeworm.
Ignoring Jagan’s threat, Kass turned to Astarte’s three highest-ranking officers, who were strangely silent, as if watching a theatrical performance. “I suggest a reconnaissance team that includes both Regs and Psyclids. K’kadi to disappear the shuttle, Jagan, myself, Dorn or Mical, with Anton Stagg and Joss Quint as security. There’s a park adjacent to the palace where we can land. I can get us over the wall and into the royal chambers.”
“Whoa!” Dorn protested. “Way too much risk.”
“Not if we’re invisible,” Jagan inserted.
“If K’kadi’s with the shuttle, then how—”
“K’kadi is not the only one with illusion skills, if you will recall,” Jagan returned smoothly. “I can create blank space more easily than I can create a huntership or a monster.”
“You’re saying we could walk right into the palace,” Tal said, emphasizing each word, “and no one would see us.”
“Yes.”
“Mal-lick!” Mical Turco didn’t bother to hide his awe.
“Feasibility on both ideas, Mr. Jorkan,” Tal ordered. “This begins to get interesting.”
“And not so suicidal, after all.” Dorn shook his head. “Easy to forget Psyclids are freaks.” But he was smiling, taking the sting out of the words. Kass grinned right back.
“Meeting adjourned,” Tal said, “until two nights from now, same time. And, Kiolani, please stay. We have unfinished business.”
Uh-oh. Kass sat back down in her chair, folded her hands in front of her, and waited, making a sincere effort to appear meek and subservient, a definite stretch of credulity after she’d just seized control of the meeting and turned their plans toward her mission, not Jagan’s.
Spiders. Large hairy ones in your bed. Jagan’s hiss filled her head as he passed by on his way out.
One teeny speck of a spider and I’ll have Tal throw you in the dungeon!
You always were difficult, my pet.
Tal stood and moved down the table, seating himself directly across from her. For a moment his sky blue eyes studied her as if she were his own private puzzle, a challenge he had to solve, and then he surprised her. “You have doubts about Mondragon. Tell me.”
She’d expected . . . she’d thought . . . Dimi, but the man was aggravating. Even now, in private, he was talking business.
Kass clasped her fists in front of her mouth, struggling to find the right words to explain something so ephemeral she barely understood it herself. “One of the duties of the ParaPrime,” she said at last, settling her hands back in her lap, “is to keep watch over the Sorcerer Prime. Do you recall the ancient saying, ‘Power corrupts and absolute power corrupts absolutely’? That is the fear with all Sorcerer Primes. We must be ever vigilant they don’t go too far.”
“And letting him organize a multitude of psychic talents could go very wrong.” It wasn’t a question.
“It is a grave consideration,” Kass admitted solemnly. “I fear the ParaPrime may consider Jagan’s plan more dangerous than the Reg occupation.”
Tal blew out a breath. “Mallick!” He looked straight into her eyes. “Your opinion, Kass? The fate of the rebellion could rest on what we decide here and now.”
“If only I had the power of foretelling . . .” Kass offered a wan smile, but no words of wisdom came. “At first, when I heard Jagan’s plan, my heart leaped. Psyclids fighting back, freeing themselves, not waiting for Reg rebels to do it for them. But to rid our planet of the occupation, he would have to practice enlasé, a melding of many minds, which is strictly forbidden.”
Kass frowned, gazing across the room toward the green marble fireplace. “I applaud Jagan’s initiative, knowing it to be strategically sound, undoubtedly as effective as it is infinitely terrifying. For a moment, I even allowed myself to gloat over what such an enlasé might do.” She folded her hands, resting them on the table, her delight in the vision of a free Psyclid fading from her face. “But then I realized turning the Sorcerer Prime loose is not a decision either of us should make on our own. Without the approval of Ryal and Jalaine, there can be no enlasé. Our people would not stand for it.”
Kass frowned, searching for the right words to explain a concept unknown in the ordered world of Regula Prime. “Enlasé has been strictly forbidden because the combining of many minds can conjure power beyond imagination. Terrifying power. Dare we unleash it? Jagan, like so many of the exceptionally gifted, can be . . . unpredictable. Difficult. It is uncertain if anyone can control him, not even the Queen, who is the current ParaPrime.”
“Is the gamble worth the risk?” Tal prompted.
“Freeing Psyclid?” The thought misted Kass’s eyes, but not so greatly she didn’t see Tal flinch. What was it about a woman’s tears that unmanned even the strongest male? “I am Psyclid, Captain. I have no choice but to say yes. And if the situation turns worst case, Jalaine and I together can manage the Sorcerer Prime.” At least she hoped so. Eight years ago they had managed him. How else had she escaped to the Regulon Space Academy instead of fulfilling her destiny as Jagan’s bride? But his powers had grown since then.
Tal stood. “I am aware we have other matters to discuss,” he said in the cool, impersonal tone he might have used to give orders to a maid, “but I believe this is neither the right moment nor the correct setting. Goodnight, Kiolani.”
He was dismissing her? Without a single word about last night?
Grimly, she stood, offered a stiff nod. “Goodnight, Captain.” Back straight, she strode out of the Green Salon. He could beg, plead, go down on bended knee . . . she was never letting him back into her bed again.
Now there was her biggest fantasy yet. All he had to do . . .
Kass stalked out, taking great care to close the door soundlessly behind her.
Chapter 33
Pausing only long enough to lock the door to her tower suite, Kass dropped onto the white and silver brocade sofa and stared, stunned, into space. She could not possibly have suggested the one thing that would force her to tell Tal the truth. A mission to Crystalia. Just saunter into the palace under the noses of Reg guards. Consult Ryal and Jalaine, king and queen of Psyclid. Mama and Papa. Not to mention the undoubted presence of M’lani. Lovely, energetic little M’lani, who was only thirteen when Kass left home. Family all.
The reunion was bound to be dramatic. Tearful. Yet she, eldest daughter of the House of Orlondami, was the one who suggested a Reg officer and Reg marines accompany them. How could she have been so stupid?
Because, of course, her plan not only made sense, it was essential to ensure the success of Jagan’s more far-reaching plan, Psyclid’s freedom. Something of far greater importance than the Princess Royal’s love life.
So she was going to have to tell Tal the truth. And lose him—
Kass froze, shoulders stiff, head slightly cocked to one side. Not a sound within or without the walls of the tower, yet she felt him. Tal here?
In front of her, not a sign of life. Slowly, Kass turned, knowing she would find nothing, and yet . . .
The area behind her was, as always, beautifully decorated but empty of life.
Stress had finally done it. She was crumbling under pressure, so fearful of losing Tal that she’d somehow tumbled into the fringes of Jagan’s black arts, conjuring Tal’s essence out of thin air.
No. Neither Psyclid ParaPrimes nor Fleet-trained princesses crumpled under pressure. Slowly, Kass rose to her feet and tip-toed toward the bedroom. Strange behavior in an empty room separated from the main body of the castle by the width of the tower staircase. Who could possibly hear her? And yet . . .
Frowning, Kass paused in the bedroom doorway. What in the name of the goddess . . . ? Someone had drawn the curtains around the four-poster bed, completely closing it in. Tal! By some miracle he’d come to her. Her heart sang.
Then plummeted to her toes. Not Tal. Only someone using the black arts could have materialized in her bed.
Jagan!
Kass charged toward the bed, ripped back the curtains. “How dare you?” she roared. “Get out of my bed this instant before I toss you straight out the window!”
“I thought you’d be pleased,” said a puzzled male voice—not Jagan—from the bed’s dark interior. “Why else did you leave the secret panel ajar?”
Tal? Kass sank onto the edge of the bed, holding her head in her hands. “I wasn’t yelling at you,” she muttered, shock throwing her back to the days of Cadet Kiolani when Captain Tal Rigel was the god who ruled her universe and she was striving so hard not to make any mistakes. “I thought Jagan had conjured himself into my bed, and I had no idea I left the panel ajar. But I was rather upset, as I recall,” she added, attempting to salvage a bit of her pride.
“Shall I leave?”
He’d come to her, and they were quarreling. Again. Now that her eyes were adjusting, Kass could see him quite clearly in the ambient light drifting in from the sitting room. Everything she’d ever wanted, lying in her bed, and she seemed to be doing her best to send him away. Time, time, she needed time to jumpstart her brain. “No, of course not,” she breathed. “But I’d really like to know how you found your way through the maze of passages.”
He must have sensed her softening, because Tal grinned. “Easy. The way to the tower was the only passage that was clean. Did you do that yourself, brave girl? I found the broom and the lantern just inside the tower panel.”
“There were spiders . . . and mice and rats and bats, but I fought them off, all for you. And when you weren’t there, I waited for you,” Kass declared, building momentum. “Such a delightful surprise, I thought, finding me naked in your bed. And then you came back and fell on me, smothered me. You were drunk!”
Tal held up a hand, palm out. “Guilty as charged. And I don’t blame you for tossing me on my ass. I deserved it.”
Kass hung her head. “I am truly, truly sorry—”
“As am I. Believe me, it won’t happen again. Particularly,” he added, emphasizing each word, “if you don’t run off and leave me again.”
“There’s the expedition to Psyclid,” she reminded him gently.
“You won’t be leaving me. I’m running the op.”
“You can’t!” Kass slapped the bedcovers just short of Tal’s naked thigh. “You’re the heart of the rebellion. You can’t take such risk.”
“No risk. Invisible, remember?”
“Only if everything goes as planned.”
Abruptly, Tal sat up, his broad shoulders level with her eyes, his suddenly serious face hovering over her. “Kass, don’t you see? It’s a matter of respect. The rebellion is making first contact with the king and queen of Psyclid. I’m the one who has to do it.”
“Of course you are,” she murmured. That should have been obvious from the moment she suggested the plan. To the Regs, she was merely an adjunct of the rebellion, a useful weapon, but she held no official position. S’sorrokan, not Ensign Kiolani, would negotiate with Ryal and Jalaine.
The only postive note to Tal crushing her pretensions to power was that he clearly didn’t sound like a man who knew he was lying naked in full view of the Psyclid Princess Royal. He sounded like the ever-responsible Tal Rigel who would always do what had to be done, no matter the risk. The trouble was, that wasn’t the man she wanted at the moment. Kass kept her eyes down, hiding a naughty smile. Men—even Fleet captains and rebel leaders—were so easily distracted. All it took was . . .
She closed her hand over his half-mast erection, ran her fingers down the velvety coating until she touched the soft blond curls at the base. Then slowly back up, squeezing gently, rhythmically—Tal groaned, his body sliding back to prone, head falling back against the pillow. Kass played with the damp tip, her lips curving in satisfaction as moisture spilled onto her fingers. The male portion of the miracle of life, now oozing from a rock-hard penis belonging to a man who had definitely put thoughts of the rebellion aside.
And somehow she would be the woman who provided the other half of the magic mix it took to make children. How, she was unsure, but she would find a way. Surely, when he got over being angry at her deception, he’d realize what an asset an alliance with a future queen and ParaPrime could be.
Tal Rigel had not coldly, calculatedly planned all this. She wouldn’t believe it.
Kass rose on her knees, moving to straddle Tal’s hips, then slowly, almost teasingly, lowering herself onto him. Ah, goddess! The exquisite pleasure of the contact was not only felt in her most intimate parts but reverberated in her mind, as she felt Tal’s pleasure as well as her own. He was special, so very special, her gateway to a world of sensation her fantasies had never dreamed of. To a love far beyond anything she had ever imagined. The scent of him, the sheen of his skin, the ripple of muscles that brought joy not fear. The mind that challenged her own. His shining honor barely tarnished by one small slip from grace.
And you’re going to risk all this by telling him you’re L’ira?
Ruthlessly, Kass quashed her inner voice. Tal wasn’t the only one in need of the healing forgiveness of sex.
&nbs
p; As his hands rose to play with her breasts, from featherlight flicks to the insistent kneading of growing passion, Kass threw back her head and developed a rhythm that excluded all problems, present and future. Yes, yes. Faster. Tal, only Tal. Ah, goddess, but it was glorious. Minds and bodies joined. Faster. Sparks flying. Heads filled with joy. Bodies . . .
The room went nova, sparks lighting the cavernous tent of the large bed as Tal’s body followed hers into oblivion. Boneless, Kass slid forward, resting her head on his chest, her maternal urges easily dismissed. Princesses did not do birth control as they were presumed virginal until marriage, but Kass had no doubt Tal Rigel had been sexually active since a very young age and was fully protected against an accidental child. So no worries there, although she admitted to a twinge of disappointment.
Bearing Tal’s children was . . . falling back into fantasy. Someday, perhaps, when their world was a safer place.
Tal’s arms encircled her and held her tight as their bodies quieted, the stunning power of their joining giving them peace. Soulmates. No matter what happened, this special bond could not be broken.
And on that thought, the world rushed back. In spite of Tal’s warmth, Kass shivered.
The next morning Kass sent for B’ram Biryani.
“How may I serve you, midama?”
Solemnly, Kass regarded the elderly servant who had known her since birth. It wasn’t easy to admit she wasn’t omnipotent, but Veranelle’s majordomo was loyal. He would never tell.
“Biryani, tell me what my people think of my . . . relationship with Captain Rigel.”
The old man drew in a sharp breath. “Highness, it is not my place to say.”
“I ask for information, Biryani, not an endorsement.”
“Ah.” B’ram Biryani found his favorite line of sight just past Kass’s left ear. “Though born a Regulon, which he could not help,” the majordomo pronounced, “the captain heads the rebellion against the Empire. Which makes him our hero. For him we have great respect. As we do for you, Highness. It is the general opinion that you are fairly matched. There is even great rejoicing in some quarters,” he added more carefully. “Some fear the Sorcerer Prime almost as much as the Empire.”
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