by Ivy Barrett
“Know me.” His hands pressed against her cheeks as he knelt in front of her and covered her mouth with his.
She closed her eyes and surrendered to the kiss and the unbelievable melding of their spirits. His lips moved across hers, his tongue gently teasing. He soothed her. She relaxed and the exchange flowed more freely.
Images passed through her mind, imparting information with echoes of emotion. Fane in his youth, his heart open and joyous, thrilled by the possibilities of life. Love, innocent and pure, warmed Cassie as she watched Fane court his wife. Then the tranquil happiness was shattered by terror and fury more bitter than anything Cassie had experienced before. She trembled and moaned, instinctively drawing back from the pain.
The memory stream sped and images rained down upon her, stinging her mind like sparks. Endless years of drudgery and pain, muted by helplessness. Sense passed in a blur of resignation.
Nothing can change the past.
Fane’s voice sliced through the memories, drawing her back toward the present.
Consuming passion washed over her in dizzying waves. Cassie saw her naked body entwined with Fane’s, easily recognizing the scene. Three years ago, the second time they made love. But this was different. She sensed the resentment threaded through his pleasure.
I knew I had to leave you.
They were in her apartment now. He stood beside her bed, staring down at her still form. He longed for her, needed her yet responsibilities pressed in, oppressive and cloying. Faces flickered, eyes filled with hope and expectation, alight with a sense of awe. His people, the forgotten souls in his underground kingdom.
With a cry of utter frustration, he turned from the bedroom and began his search of her apartment. Codes, access codes shrouded in death—Nicho’s death. Cassie shuddered and propelled herself onward, speeding through the memory.
Fane sat at an access terminal, scrolling through a message index. Her father’s messages, accessed with the stolen codes. Fane spotted a familiar name—a well-known assassin—and opened the message.
Friday night. Make it look like a break-in. She’ll be at the opera.
Cassie fought against the memory as the pieces snapped into place. Max might have been deluded, but he’d told her the truth. Her father had ordered the hit on Nicho. The realization sank into her mind, bitterly cold and inescapable.
Another flurry of images swept across her mind: pain-contorted faces, shattered lives, endless suffering. And her father’s influence threaded through each like a poisonous cord. So much suffering. So many lives destroyed in his quest for power.
Stop! Make it stop! She writhed, the mystic net intolerable, her being inundated.
Fane slowed the current, narrowing the stream to a tight, manageable trickle. He eased out of her mind as she rushed from his, desperate to escape the suffering.
She collapsed in her seat, tears stinging her eyes, desolate and shaking. “Why would he… It can’t be true. It just can’t.”
Fane gathered her hands in his, concern and compassion shining in his eyes. “I wasn’t sure how to tell you. No matter how much I prepared you, I knew it would hurt like hell.” He kissed her knuckles, mutant light fading from his eyes.
“I can’t deal with this right now.” She took a deep, shuddering breath. “My God, how do you live with all that pain?”
“I’ve had a long time to accept my past. I didn’t mean to overwhelm you.”
“My father is responsible for Nicho’s death.” She had to say the words out loud, to acknowledge the fact so she could begin to process the emotions.
“Your father is responsible for a lot of things,” Mal Ton muttered.
Fane shot him a warning glare. “I suspect you only know your father as well as he wanted you to know him.”
“I feel like such a fool.” One tear escaped and then another. Had her entire life been built on lies? Nicho was a spy, Fane had seduced her for the access codes, and her father was… utterly corrupt. With steely determination she batted away the tears. If she released her emotions right now, she would never stop crying. “Did you break the link?” she asked Fane, desperately needing a distraction. “I can’t feel you anymore.”
A soft smile curved his lips. “I’m still there, love. The connection is just more focused now, less intrusive.”
Fatigue washed over her, a soul-deep weariness her stubborn nature couldn’t combat. “Why do I feel so sleepy?” She could hardly keep her eyes open.
“Blending can be exhausting for an untrained mind. You experienced my entire life in less than a minute. Don’t fight it. Get some sleep. We’re still a long way from Protaria.”
She didn’t think to question the suggestion as he helped her adjust her seat. She snuggled into the slight recline and closed her eyes.
* * *
“What did you discover?” Mal Ton asked a few minutes later.
Fane brushed his fingertips along the side of her face, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. She was so beautiful, so… innocent. She might be surrounded by deceit and depravity, but her spirit remained pure. “We know more about her father than she does.”
“She probably doesn’t want to know. Denial is a common survival mechanism.”
“It’s more than that. Howyn intentionally fragments all his projects. Separate teams work on various elements and only a select few are aware of the final purpose. Cassie has never been included in the select few. He’s always kept her isolated, or rather insulated, from the full picture.”
“Does he doubt her loyalty?”
It wasn’t a simple question. He’d sensed a deep-seated conflict in Cassie, but he wasn’t sure if she understood the cause. She had serious doubts about her father, yet she had never felt strongly enough to openly challenge him.
“He told her the practice protects her, that it decreases the chance of her being kidnapped or interrogated.” As he spoke, Fane pulled her safety restraints around her torso and fastened them in the middle of her chest.
Mal Ton shook his head. “I guess Max didn’t get the memo.”
“Her current project is like all the others.” He returned to his seat beside Mal Ton and pivoted to face the main view screen. “She’s programming nanites to absorb and amplify psychic energy, but she isn’t sure what the nanites will power once they’re charged.”
“Psychic energy? As in, the sort of energy we produce after surviving mutation?”
Fane nodded. “The very same.”
“I don’t like the sound of that,” Mal Ton muttered.
“She’s uneasy about her father’s intentions too, but he insists it’s safer if she doesn’t know the details.”
Mal Ton’s teal gaze lingered on Cassie for a long moment before he returned his attention to the control console. “Did you put her to sleep or was she worn out by the memory transfer?”
“A little of both. I’d rather she be unaware when we enter the Underground. She’s less likely to take off if she doesn’t realize how close she’ll be to home.”
“That’s presuming she doesn’t know the location of the Underground already.”
“She doesn’t. I checked.”
“Can we trust her?” Mal Ton turned toward Fane as he folded his arms over his chest. “And more important, how long do you intend to keep her? This barter system might fool her, but I’ve seen the way you look at her. You have no intention of letting her go.”
Fane smiled, unable to hide his reaction. “My intentions toward Cassandra are none of your business.”
“If you say so.”
* * *
Cassie floated in velvet tranquility. Weightless and languid, she drifted through dreams and memories, unable to distinguish one from the other. She was intrigued by the images, yet they held no real power over her. If she was impressed by what she saw, she lingered. If not, she simply turned away.
Her lab appeared within her mind, the image detailed and glaring. She shook her head and t
he image disintegrated like spun sugar beneath a sudden rain. She’d squandered too much of her life surrounded by sterile equipment and speculation. This was the last place she wanted to visit during this unusual dream.
And this had to be a dream. There was no other explanation for what she was experiencing. Still, she’d never felt anything quite like it. All of her senses were heightened and she could control her movements and thoughts.
She pictured sunlight and golden radiance erupted around her. The brilliance blinded her and warmed her skin. The combination of imagination and omnipotence sent shivers racing along her nerve endings and excitement zipping into the center of her chest. A distant echo of unrest pinged within her mind. Something had upset her, something painful and ominous. Why couldn’t she remember? She didn’t want to remember! It was so peaceful here.
Launching herself skyward, she left the distinct clutter of Sanctum behind. Thoughts of expectations and obligations peeled off her in layers, reshaping and liberating her. The wind caressed her body and whipped her hair across her face. She didn’t know where she was going, but it didn’t matter. She was exhilarated, soaring, spinning—free.
Strong arms wrapped around her from behind, drawing her back against a solid chest. Fane. She knew the warm spice of his scent and the shape of his hands. His touch was firm without hurting, capable and sure. His arms sheltered and protected. She was safe with Fane, cherished.
Cherished? What an odd word to attribute to an enemy.
A smile bowed her lips and she rested her head against his shoulder. They might have been born on opposite sides of the conflict, but Fane was not her enemy. He would caress and tease, arouse her slowly until she screamed in release. And she would welcome each demanding kiss, revel in passion’s onslaught.
“Are you dreaming too?” she asked without turning around.
“Does this feel like a dream?”
Mist swirled around them, blurring their surroundings, creating a surreal pocket where only they existed. “I know I’m not awake, but I… I don’t know what this is.”
“Does it matter? You’re in my arms and you’re safe. Let that be enough for a while.”
The dizzying rush slowed and she turned within the circle of his arms. “I shouldn’t want this. I shouldn’t want you.”
“But you do?” he asked hopefully. Passion and tenderness made his eyes shine like polished peridot. His lips parted and curved, awaiting the smallest encouragement to begin their sensual campaign.
“You’ve enchanted me,” she whispered. “Made me helpless against your appeal.”
He chuckled and leaned in, brushing her temple with a light kiss. “What did you expect from a sorcerer?” His arms tightened, pressing her snugly against his chest and groin. “I can’t get enough of you.” He rolled his hips, drawing her attention to his growing erection. “As soon as I find release inside you, my love, I want you all over again.”
His hands cupped her ass and drew her to her toes. He aligned her mound with his shaft and rubbed against her, skin on skin. She groaned then shivered violently as heated tingles cascaded through her body. “Why can’t I resist you? I shouldn’t feel this way.”
He framed her face with his hands, all playfulness gone. “I am not creating these feelings, Cassandra. My pheromones were returned to normal a long time ago. And as for my Faundi skills, I would never use my power in that way. Making a person willing is just as despicable as taking them against their will. You can tease me about it, if it makes you more comfortable with our attraction, but it’s important that you acknowledge the truth.”
She dragged her gaze away from his earnest expression, not yet ready to surrender completely. “Where are we? What is this place?”
“There are many terms for where we are. Some call this astral perception or a metaphysical plane. You’re aware, but not awake. Think of it as a waking dream.”
She’d basically come to the same conclusion, so his explanation didn’t seem as fantastical as she’d expected it to seem. “Why did you bring me here?” The answer to that pressed against her belly. They were naked and he was aroused. No, they were both aroused.
“I didn’t want Mal Ton to watch us fuck,” he whispered the words against her lips.
Desire spiraled through her chest and lodged between her thighs, yet reality intruded, an unwanted reminder of her true circumstance. They were on their way to Protaria and she was his prisoner. Her body sagged against one of the ship’s high-backed seats, safety restraints holding her in place.
Fane pinched her ass, drawing her deeper into the waking dream. “Would you rather entertain Mal Ton? I don’t think he’d mind.”
“No.” She focused on her desire for Fane, immersing herself in the illusion. Their time together had always been stolen, secretive. Why should this be any different? “I don’t want to share this with anyone.”
“Then you admit you want me?”
It wasn’t a challenge, more like a crossroads. His gaze reflected the depth of his longing and the devotion he yearned to bestow upon her. A responding ache pulsed within her, making her hunger and burn. All she had to do was accept him, take the first step and they would be fulfilled.
“I’ve always wanted you,” she admitted with a sigh. “I wanted you the first time I saw you and I want you now.” This was a dream. Why shouldn’t they indulge their need for each other? No one was harmed by their love.
Their love? Shit! She’d done it again, attributed them with emotions far deeper than lust.
He smiled, obviously pleased by her response. If he heard her mental ramblings, he didn’t react to them. “Where shall we go? Have you ever seen the ocean?”
“In vids, not in person.”
“Then hold on tight.”
She wrapped her arms around his neck and closed her eyes. They were propelled through space, speeding like a comet across the sky. His mouth found hers, the kiss demanding and deep. She curled her tongue around his and sifted his hair with her fingers. His hands caressed her back and squeezed her bottom though his embrace remained strong.
The momentum slowed then stilled, and her toes touched something coarse and… sandy! She opened her eyes and gasped. A strip of white beach stretched off to her left and right. In front of her churned an ocean, vibrant blue with cresting waves and shimmering currents. A salty tang drifted on the air as it wafted across her face and played through her hair. She dug her toes into the sand and spread her arms, lost in wonder.
“This is amazing.” She took a deep breath and looked at Fane. “Where are we?”
“Not where. When. This is Stilox before the war.”
Sadness burst within her, blurring her vision with unshed tears. The war, her father’s betrayal, and all the suffering crashed down upon her with punishing force. She covered her mouth with her hand and shook her head, unable to speak.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart. Please don’t cry.” He caught her tears as they escaped with the sweep of her lashes. “I didn’t bring you here to upset you. I wanted to share the beauty of this memory. When I think of Stilox, this is how I see it.”
He pulled her into his arms and she buried her face against the warmth of his throat. “How can I ever make things right again?” Grief and shame took turns pelting her composure. “So many have lost so much,” she sobbed. “And Father…”
Easing her back, he looked into her eyes. “You are not your father. You are only responsible for your actions and the decisions you make now that you know the truth.”
“I’ve had suspicions for years. I should have been more diligent, should have been less selfish. I’m so ashamed and so angry.” A violent shudder illustrated the depth of her emotions.
“That’s understandable. But give yourself a break. You can’t reshape the course of history in the blink of an eye. We have to take each day as it comes and make the most of each opportunity.”
“I want to kill him, yet I want to wake up and find this was al
l a bad dream.”
“Fight or flight. Basic survival instincts.” He caressed her damp cheek with the back of his hand. “The shock will subside and the pain will ease. We have plenty of time to plan a new strategy.”
She turned and faced the ocean, unconcerned with her nudity. A cool breeze caressed her skin and Fane’s strong arms settled around her waist. The rolling rhythm of the water soothed her, eased the emotional trauma to the back of her mind.
He rubbed his cheek against her hair, his arms secure without constricting. His body warmed her skin and stirred an electric awareness. The setting was so romantic and her emotions were so raw. She needed to lose herself in the moment, to feel something other than sorrow.
Blinking away the rest of her tears, she slowly rotated within the circle of his arms. “I want to touch you,” she whispered. “I need to drive back the pain.”
He brushed his lips over hers, not a kiss really, just a teasing glimpse of the pleasures to come. “I’ll help any way I can.”
She looped her arms around his neck and pressed her breasts against his chest. “You like to restrain me and I never get to enjoy you with my hands.” She whispered the words against his parted lips.
He chuckled and stepped back, lowering his arms to his sides. “I exist for your enjoyment. Touch me, taste me, do anything you like.”
She caught her lower lip between her teeth, thrilled by his uncharacteristic passivity. Just looking at his naked body built the tension between her thighs, but there was no telling how long his mood would last. She splayed her fingers against his chest, absorbing the heat and smoothness of his skin. Was his chest naturally hairless or had he permanently removed it at some point in the past? She tried to remember if he’d possessed chest hair when they first met, but the detail remained elusive.
Another deep chuckle escaped his throat. “You never stop thinking, do you? Your curious mind never slows down.”
Her gaze returned to his face. “I thought you couldn’t read my mind any longer.”