Heart Search

by Robin D. Owens

  As they watched, white clouds faded to lavender, then to gray, the last of Bel’s rays flashed silver, and day became twilight.

  Tiana flattened her hands to her breasts, spoke in a hushed tone. “Such a lovely hurt. And I love you both, and my sister and my Family, but I want my HeartMate. I want to share such sunsets with him, and loving afterward.”

  “Or loving in a sacred grove as Bel sets,” Glyssa added.

  Yearning swelled so in Camellia that it stopped any words from escaping. Yearning and fear . . . and, underneath it all, old anger and embarrassment—all that she’d soon spill to Tiana and Glyssa.

  Dessert now, Mica said, walking back and forth across Camellia’s feet.

  Tiana sighed and Glyssa turned away from the window. Camellia rhymed a couplet and soft spellglobes lit in the mainspace and along the short hallway back to the ritual chamber and the room itself.

  This time when they entered, Camellia shut the door behind her, encasing them in privacy.

  “Girl talk,” Tiana said.

  I am female, said Mica.

  “So you are,” Glyssa said.

  And I want dessert. White mousse inside puffs. I do not want the puffs, though.

  “All right,” Glyssa said. “I want dessert, too. We need more plates.”

  Tiana was closest to the altar and opened one of the two cabinets in its base, pulled out a set of three plates with cheerful-tinted spring flowers scattered casually around the rim, set them on the table.

  Mica meowed. Where is My plate?

  “I’ll have to get you one,” Camellia said. She translocated a sturdy blue Fam plate from the cleanser to the bricked hearth of the fire.

  “Is our floral pattern still available?” asked Tiana, dishing out the dessert.

  “Yes,” Camellia said.

  “You always know,” Glyssa said.

  “We all have our little obsessions,” Camellia said. She took the mousse-in-puff and bit into it, nearly moaned as the taste of vanilla and white cocoa filled her mouth.

  “Mmmm,” all of them hummed appreciation, including Mica.

  “Luscious,” Tiana said. She’d finished hers first, and licked her fingers before rising from her pillow and moving to the fountain in the corner and washing her hands.

  “Speaking of luscious,” Glyssa said, white teeth snapping up another bite. “T’Hawthorn seems to be showing up in your life on a regular basis, Camellia.”

  Camellia had eaten half of her mousse puff and set the other half aside to savor for later—if she could. She took a big breath and said, “That’s because he’s my HeartMate.”

  Nine

  Glyssa choked.

  Mica squealed and tore around the room, leaping over the fountain basin. We knew it. We knew it. Me and Brazos. Camellia decided that feeding the cat sugar was not a good idea.

  “So how long have you known?” asked Tiana.

  “Since my Second Passage to free my Flair at seventeen.”

  Glyssa grimaced. “Ouch.”

  “I bespelled myself to forget.”

  “You’d have to, he was married to Nivea,” Glyssa said.

  “Yes.” Camellia’s teeth hurt, she was clenching them so. She rose and went to the fountain, let the cold water run over her hands. It helped calm her so she could stand to turn back to her friends’ stares.

  “It was that hurtful?” Glyssa asked.

  “Do you have any idea how it feels to link sexually with your HeartMate during the Passage fever dreams and know he is turning to his wife to slake his own lust?”

  Tiana jerked. Blinked. “Oh. That’s why you’ve been avoiding—”

  “Yes.”

  Glyssa got up and came to hug Camellia. “I’m sorry for pushing. I didn’t think.”

  “I didn’t think, either,” Tiana said, completing the group hug. “Forgive me.”

  It was good to feel her friends on both sides of her, with hugs just the outer expression of their emotional support. Tiana was softer of body and shorter. Glyssa was almost her own height and wiry. She broke away first and prowled with Mica.

  “That day. That first day in JudgementGrove when you won your china, when we were with Nivea. That upsurge of HeartMate Flair.”

  “Yeah,” Camellia said, sitting down and looking at the wine bottle. She’d have preferred tea. “I’ve thought a lot about that day. I was flying high emotionally because I’d presented our findings to the SupremeJudge and she listened to me and awarded me the tea set, if it could be found in the shipwreck.”

  “And Laev T’Hawthorn was going through his own Second Passage at the time. Everyone knew that,” Tiana said. She spread her hands. “The energies of HeartMate love spiked and spiraled through JudgementGrove.”

  Glyssa snorted. “And the stup of the boy saw the beautiful Nivea and decided right then that she was his HeartMate, not you.”

  “He barely saw us, we were too young, thirteen,” Tiana said.

  “And Nivea, being Nivea and a Sunflower with an eye on wealth and status . . .” Glyssa shrugged. They’d already been over that ground. Her brows dipped. “Must have been a shock to him on his wedding night when he tried to HeartBond with her and couldn’t.”

  “Yes, poor Laev,” Tiana said.

  Camellia didn’t think there was anything “poor” about Laev. He might look noble and elegant, but he was a lot tougher under that surface than people believed. She’d have thought her friends would realize this—but, like she had, they’d given little consideration to Laev Hawthorn—far above them in status.

  “Poor Nivea,” Tiana said more perfunctorily.

  Glyssa made a disgusted noise.

  Camellia looked straight at Tiana. “I was . . . glad . . . when Nivea died.” Again her jaw hurt.

  “Unsurprising,” Tiana said, but her hands were in her opposite sleeve pockets. She’d be thinking just as hard as Glyssa, feeling more. Camellia sensed the waves of empathy coming from them.

  “He’s free now,” Glyssa said. “You could claim him. You made a HeartGift during your Second Passage, didn’t you?”

  “No,” Camellia said.

  Her friends stared at her. “No!” Glyssa said.

  Camellia certainly didn’t want to explain that she’d spent most of her Second Passage in bed, thrashing with sex dreams, hating herself for connecting with a man who gave another woman fulfillment. “Why should I? I knew he was wed. I knew he was a man that would always honor his marriage vows despite anything.”

  “Of course he would,” Tiana agreed.

  “I’m not ready to claim him,” Camellia said.

  “So he’s a man who’s hurt you, too.” Tiana spoke softly.

  “Huh,” Glyssa said and plopped down onto her pillow, shaking her head. “You haven’t had any kind of luck, have you?”

  “I’ve had bad luck with men,” Camellia said, lifted her chin. “But I’ve had good luck in business.”

  Glyssa sent a pulse of comfort down their link and Camellia found it easy to smile after all. “And I’ve been blessed in my friends.”

  “Uh-huh,” Glyssa said.

  “I still think you should see a counselor about your issues with men,” Tiana said.

  Glyssa shot her a disgruntled look. “I’m usually the one who pushes too hard and too far. Let Camellia go at her own pace. Her father and uncle are—”

  Mean men! Mica said.

  “Right,” Glyssa said. “Her brother—”

  I have not met this littermate, Mica said.

  “Not worth meeting,” Glyssa said. “He’s weak. And Laev T’Hawthorn, the stup, still doesn’t realize you’re his HeartMate, does he?”

  “I doubt it.”

  Brazos and I will HELP! Mica bounced up and down.

  “Please don’t,” Camellia said, but noted that Tiana had turned a considering gaze toward the little cat. Then her friend met Camellia’s eyes, her own warm. Her head tilted. “I would say that if Nivea wasn’t ultimately pleased with her marriage, Laev T’Hawthorn wa
sn’t, either.”

  “With a woman who led him on, married him for his gilt and his title, betrayed him with other men? Who would be happy with such a marriage?” Glyssa added.

  “So he’s probably not eager to find and claim his HeartMate,” Tiana ended. But there was a note in her voice, a light in her eyes, a studied nonexpression on her face that Camellia had learned meant that she would be watching Laev, too.

  “She’s going to meddle,” Glyssa told Camellia. “She can’t help but meddle. Her nature and why she became a priestess. Has to try to fix things. Wine.” Glyssa topped off their wineglasses.

  We will help! Mica shouted again.

  “Just as you can’t help but be curious about everything and ask questions all the time,” Tiana defended.

  Camellia took her plate with the rest of her treat, sat down on her pillow. She’d revealed all and her appetite had come back. Mica crawled into her lap. Camellia smiled at Tiana. “And so I’ve told a secret.”

  “One of your secrets,” Glyssa said, nose twitching, changing her focus to Camellia.

  “All that I’m going to talk about tonight. So it’s Tiana’s turn. I told you, one statement regarding your secret.”

  “I am bound by a Vow of Honor not to reveal my secret,” Tiana said stiffly, as she always did.

  “Or what happens?” Glyssa pressed.

  “I can’t say,” Tiana said.

  “You won’t say,” Glyssa said.

  “I won’t say,” Tiana agreed.

  “But I think you’d lose your home.” Camellia let the last of the vanilla white mousse melt on her tongue. “You never invite us to your home. We don’t know exactly where you live. You told me, generally, of HouseHearts, so it must be an old house, a Residence.” She drank more wine.

  “I won’t say,” Tiana said, but a faint smile curved her lips.

  Glyssa lifted her glass and Camellia thought she was studying the flames of the fire as seen through her wine. A few heartbeats later she sipped, then angled her glass toward Tiana as if in a toast, shifted as if to settle more comfortably, met Camellia’s eyes, and gave her a sincere smile. “But we’ve talked about this, Camellia and I. There are legends you know. Of First Grove, the original Healing Grove of the colonists. Of the lost estate of BalmHeal, which only opens to those in desperate need.”

  “I can’t say anything. I swore a Vow of Honor.” The sentence left Tiana on a sigh. She stared at Glyssa. “What’s your secret?”

  “One of them,” Camellia added.

  Glyssa’s body braced. “I think, I’m sure, my HeartMate and I had a flaming affair for four days, five years ago, while he was passing through Druida. I didn’t realize who he was, what he was to me until later.” She flushed red that didn’t go with her hair. “I finally understood how much lust and Flair, singly and mingled together, can blind people.”

  Camellia thought her mouth hadn’t fallen open as wide as Tiana’s. She snapped it shut, still staring at Glyssa as her brain buzzed.

  Glyssa took advantage of their stunned immobility to fill their wineglasses. She lifted hers in a toast. “To HeartMates.”

  “You both know yours,” Tiana said wistfully but chimed her glass as Camellia and Glyssa did.

  Glyssa drank deeply. There was a wild hurt in her eyes that made Camellia share a look with Tiana. The two of them shook their heads. They wouldn’t press Glyssa now.

  Camellia was all too aware of the hurt a HeartMate could cause. Since she’d let that door inside her swing wide, had admitted Laev Hawthorn was hers, she’d experienced again all the pain and despair and anger. She couldn’t bear yet to talk to her friends about Laev, so she wouldn’t press Glyssa. Instead Camellia drank her wine.

  “I’ve set up an appointment for the three of us with the starship Nuada’s Sword, MidMorningBell tomorrow,” Tiana said.

  “You sent me a cache message. That time’s good for me.” Glyssa drank some more, but her body slumped a little as if tension had seeped from her muscles.

  “Fine,” Camellia lied.

  Tiana’s gaze went to the window, which showed a black night and pinpricks of stars. “I know I have a HeartMate. I want him.” She nearly slurred her words, snuggled into her pillow, then fell asleep.

  “So.” Glyssa wiggled a little more, sipped her drink. Her eyes were shiny, her voice a little clogged. “I suppose I can say that Laev T’Hawthorn is one good-looking man. Tell me all about those Passage sex dreams.”

  It must have been the short—very short—conversation Camellia had had with Glyssa about Passage sex that had primed Camellia. Or the fact that she’d finally admitted, out loud and to more than just herself, that Laev T’Hawthorn was her HeartMate. But after her guests had left and she’d checked the house security and fallen into bed and asleep, Camellia found her mind reaching for Laev’s.

  He, too, was asleep—and aroused. His lust flowed easily to her, without any emotional or rational-thinking barriers.

  She found it difficult to keep up the shields she’d built between them. Before last night, it had been so long since they’d connected sexually . . . four years since her own last Passage . . . and only two or three times since. Until her spell affected her dreams, too.

  The rare mental sex they’d shared—when he hadn’t turned to Nivea—had spoilt her for any other man. Camellia had gone ahead with occasional sex dates, and minor affairs focused on the physical, but hadn’t opened up emotionally with any of her short-time lovers.

  She didn’t intend to open up to Laev. But now it was safe to love him . . . no, have telepathic sex with him. He wasn’t married. He couldn’t hurt her by making love with his wife. He might not even recognize her, since he never had before.

  And the warm sensuality wrapping around her felt so good. She could give in to it.

  She could revel in it.

  The next moment she was in the large bed with him, pressing her body to his . . . just feeling him, his size, the texture of his skin. Her breath came fast. Maybe she wasn’t ready for this.

  It had been too long and last night too brief . . . but she’d touched him in real life now, been pressed against him . . . and now feeling him naked and front to front was so much different. Her hands trailed over the strong slope of his shoulders. She dared to touch the nape of his neck, feel the silkiness of his hair fall across her fingers.

  His hands clamped on her butt, kneaded, brought her close to his erection. In another minute . . .

  No! Not ready, not ready, not ready.

  With a gasp she jerked away and awake. What had she been doing!

  Enjoying herself. Enjoying Laev. Laev, her HeartMate, whom she was free to love now. Whom she was afraid to love now.

  Rolling off the bedsponge, she rose and headed for the waterfall room. Even as she stood under a tepid plunge of water, she swore. There would be no going back now, she understood that. Her libido would not be stuffed back into a box. Not when every day brought some reminder of Laev, or chance meetings, and destiny was determined to bring them together.

  Lady and Lord, she hurt from unfulfilled need, from her body wanting her HeartMate and her mind and emotions shying away from him.

  I don’t think you should do that, Mica said. She sat just outside the sill marking the waterfall area, protected from the wet by a Flair shield across the open doorway.

  Avoid Laev T’Hawthorn? Camellia replied blankly.

  Not that, either! Mica emphasized that with a short yowl that pierced Camellia’s brain. See, you don’t make sense. All that water on your head can’t be good for you.

  Camellia huffed, stopped the waterfall, and dropped the shield.

  Mica hopped back, hissed at the few droplets that evaporated before they reached her.

  Big baby, Camellia said. She dried herself under a quick heat lamp, contemplated sleep again, and decided to drink a soothing tea with a spell that would narrow the link between her and Laev. She’d concocted the recipe and made the tea herself. Some was in the kitchen no-time.<
br />
  A few minutes later she was asleep and dreaming of searching for something in a cavelike HouseHeart.

  The sexual climax rolled through Laev, leaving him shuddering with satisfaction and waking him. The best dream sex he’d had in years—well, since last night. The best sex he’d had since even before Nivea had died. They hadn’t had much sex in the last years of their marriage—only when Nivea decided it was time to try for an heir to the Hawthorn line again.

  The pounding of his heart eased from ragged after-orgasm and edged toward the rapid beat of caution. His HeartMate had been with him. He didn’t know her. Didn’t want to know her. They’d only come together because people, beings, had been pestering him about her lately, that was all.

  But he’d enjoyed the sex, even though she’d left him to experience release alone. Thinking about the brief encounter, he understood that the bond between them had been strictly physical. Nothing more than a tiny filament connected them otherwise.

  So she didn’t want to acknowledge him, either. His first stung pride gave way to amusement that he’d been irritated.

  HeartMate sex, without emotional trauma-drama. He liked that idea. And that was all he could accept now, perhaps all she could, too. Fine with him.

  He rose and headed to the waterfall room. Earlier he’d chanted a complicated spell on his sheets to keep them clean, and now the fragrance of herbs wafted from his bedroom.

  Glancing at the wall timer, he saw it was close to TransitionBell, that time of deep night when many souls passed to the next world. Energy still hummed along his nerves.

  Like the night before, he reached mentally for Cratag. The man was asleep. The Green Knight Fencing and Fighting Salon wasn’t open. With a roll of his shoulders, Laev passed through his suite to the sparring room on the end. There he stretched, then began a fighting pattern. It was more work than he’d anticipated. He’d lost his edge, but he’d get it back.

  “T’Hawthorn?” the Residence asked.

  Laev kicked high and grinned. The Residence had initiated a conversation! Ha! “Yes, Residence?”