Shadows of Mallachrom, Book 1: Blue Fire

by Michelle Levigne

  They don't expect me here. His mental voice was thick with smugness. We should have tried disguises years ago. It's pretty uncomfortable, but it works!

  "It's about time you got here," she growled. "Piper, believe it or not, this slacker is my new bodyguard," she added, for the benefit of the disguised Rover officer and the likely spies sitting in her outer office. "Fortunately, in his case, appearances are very deceiving. Make sure all his clearances are expedited. You, get in here."

  She retreated behind her desk. Petroc said nothing until the door slid closed. Padding in his shoulders and around his waist and a hint of pot belly did more for changing his appearance than the beard and dyed hair caught back in a knot.

  "I ought to break your nose," she muttered, and braced herself on the surface of her crowded desk. She ached to fling her arms around him and never let go. She had dreamed of him, wanted him there, and knew she didn't dare indulge fatigue-induced lust. "What do you think you're doing here?"

  "Hide in plain sight. The last place they'd look for an escaped, dangerous character is right next to the new head of security. Right?" Petroc settled down on the edge of the desk, towering over her.

  "If something happens to me--" She gasped as he took hold of her hand. That simple contact sent an electric jolt through her. She thought his eyes flickered blue.

  "That's why I'm your bodyguard. It's perfect."

  "It's horrible. All we need is one bomb to take out both of us. My Rovers will follow Burkan, but who will the Taken follow if you're dead or incapacitated? And what are you doing on your feet?" she continued, trying to tug her hand free.

  A shiver ran up her back as he pressed the scar on his thumb against the scar on hers. She needed to hold him. She was glad to see him and furious and hated feeling so tired she couldn't control her emotions. Anger was safer.

  Why had he never kissed her? She wanted him to kiss her until neither of them could breathe. She wanted to experience the passionate kind of kisses she had seen between her parents. The kind that broke after many long moments, but only so her father could scoop up her mother in his arms and stagger out of the room. Rhianni had wanted to be married just because her parents were so happy, because they made kissing seem so fun, and because laughter had always echoed from their bedroom.

  "I'm fine. The more I move around, the better I feel." Petroc smiled that lazy smile and his dark eyes flashed blue again. The Shadow influence mesmerized and soothed her. "I couldn't rest, worrying about you. Besides, there are things we need to take care of, face to face."

  "Like what? We talk in our minds every day, every hour, practically." She took a few deep breaths to fight the warm, humming sensation flowing through her from just the touch of his hand. What if he increased the contact between them? Would her brain completely short-circuit? "You probably are safer here than anywhere else right now. There's no one else I'd trust my life with--if my Rovers weren't here," she hurried to add.

  Petroc grinned wider, which made her want to hit him. Then her breath caught as he tugged on her hand, drawing her closer.

  "Anni, why did you cry when I was sick?" He tugged her across her desk.

  "What?" She leaned so far forward she started to lose her balance. He caught hold of her shoulders and lifted, and she ended up sitting on the desk. Papers slid to the floor and she slid across the surface until they were face to face.

  "You cried because you love me." He snorted laughter when she tried to jerk free and couldn't. "Admit it."

  "Petroc Ash, I am on duty--"

  "And a good Rover leaves personal needs for after the mission. I know. This is more than emotions, Rhianni. You love me. I know it. If it's half as much as I love you, I'm the luckiest man in the galaxy."

  She forgot to breathe, staring into his big, dark eyes that seemed to swallow her alive. The humming from his touch grew stronger, until she couldn't hear anything but her own heartbeat and Petroc's voice echoing in her head. He released her shoulder and gently stroked her cheek, creating a heat that threatened to melt her bones. Rhianni couldn't repress the moan that seeped out of her tight throat. She closed her eyes.

  Petroc kissed her, warm and soft and lighter than a bird's wing as his lips stroked across hers. Blue fire exploded behind her closed eyelids and she gasped. He deepened the kiss, taking advantage of her parted lips to claim territory. A whimper escaped her as she lifted her arms to wrap around him. Petroc laughed, the sound muffled in her mouth as he enfolded her in his arms and finished dragging her across the desk. The contents of her desk slid to the floor and Rhianni barely heard the crash through the thudding of her heart. It was a good thing her office was soundproof as well as bomb-proof.

  "Open your eyes, Anni," Petroc whispered, still close enough his voice tickled her lips. He maneuvered her around so she sat on the edge of her desk. His hands slid down her back, drawing another moan from her. He grasped her thighs, parting her legs so he could lean against her with her legs wrapped around him. That made her freeze and her eyes flashed open.

  Petroc's eyes were blue, like the fire that protected her in her dreams. Like Shadow eyes. Like the power that bound the Taken together in her dreams.

  "Your eyes are blue," he whispered, just before he kissed her again. Deeper, warmer, his hands clutching and caressing with bruising strength even through her uniform and protective shock suit.

  Something shifted inside her. The tangle of her thoughts cleared. Rhianni leaped back and forth between the present moment and memories. Petroc's hands were familiar. The taste of him was sweet, rich and smoky, and familiar. The heat of him pressing against her, familiar. She knew how it would feel when he lay on top of her; she knew exactly how their bodies would fit together. She knew where to touch him to make him laugh, growl and moan.

  "It's you!" she gasped as she pushed back from him. It physically hurt to lose the touch of his mouth.

  "Yeah, it's me." Petroc laughed and bent his head to resume their kisses.

  "No, you don't understand." She pressed her fingers against his lips to stop him. "I've had dreams. Waking dreams. A lover. And now..." She swallowed hard, still trying to integrate the understanding that surged inside her, making her dizzy even as it battered doors open in her mind. "It wasn't dreams. It was you, loving me ever since I realized what boys were for."

  "Dreams." Petroc's sudden stillness sent a jolt of icy fear through her.

  Rhianni wondered if he would think she had been unfaithful all these years, making love to someone else in her mind--no, it had been him. She just hadn't known it was him, hadn't seen her lover's face, hadn't known his voice, hadn't--

  She muffled a tiny shriek when Petroc bent his head and sucked on the lobe of her ear.

  Just like her dream-lover did.

  "That's proof enough," he growled. "You taste even better than those dreams. But it wasn't dreams for me, either." Then he took her mouth prisoner again.

  The churning sea of information suddenly calmed and poured through her mind, polar opposite to the fire tumbling through her flesh. Rhianni understood. No need for questions, when their minds melded more intently than their bodies tried to be. She tightened her embrace, her legs twined around his, on the verge of weeping with the intensity of the needing.

  It was like she had been wearing a flash helmet all her life and the darkened shield had finally been removed so she could see clearly.

  They were joined soul to soul, more firmly than any vows or registration could ever make them. She knew Petroc had been holding back, wanting her and refusing to sentence her to death by binding her to Mallachrom forever. She knew, in a blinding instant, everything the Taken had endured during the years of the Talroqi occupation, how they had learned to go into the Merger, their suffering at the hands of doctors and teachers after the Liberation, and the growing danger of the Black Pit.

  "Me!" she gasped, and broke free of Petroc's kiss. "You sensed me, when I arrived. The Black Pit reacted to me coming back. It wants me. That's why Grandmother wants
me to go investigate it. Not to kill me--it needs me for something."

  "Just like the Shadows need you," he whispered, nodding. His eyes faded back to normal. He licked his lips; they were dark as if bruised. Rhianni could only imagine how she looked. His beard stubble had scratched her face, but all her senses were so highly tuned right now, she had enjoyed it. "Shaina speculated the last piece of the weapon against the Black Pit had either arrived or been...formed, I guess."

  "Me. But how?" Part of her screamed frustrated laughter. Why discuss these things when she wanted Petroc kissing her?

  Her mission had just taken last place priority in her life.

  Forget her mission--it was no longer on the list.

  "You're the next level of Taken. Bound to Mallachrom before you were born. The Shadows can reach you more clearly than they can us. Whatever the Black Pit wants, maybe it thinks you can give it total control over Mallachrom. The Taken can't do that for them. Not yet."

  "The children." Rhianni shivered as the tingling heat between her and Petroc slid away. "That's why the children have been kidnapped. The Pit wants children born here, looking for the next step up."

  "But we hide Taken children," he whispered, nodding. "The ones who don't live in our secret settlements are watched all the time. Even when they seem to be totally alone, there's always someone to protect them."

  "Danil--"

  "He's safe. I sent him away. I promised him we'd have lots of brothers and sisters for him. Hope you don't mind," he added with a crooked grin.

  She bit back an urge to say she wanted to start making a baby right that moment. Petroc laughed and snatched her tight up against him again--and she knew he read her thoughts.

  "It's going to take some getting used to," he muttered against her mouth.

  Rhianni hoped it took forever, to get used to his touch for real now, his kisses for real now, instantly knowing what he thought and felt, the aching need for him. She wanted it to stay fresh, powerful and startling for the rest of their lives.

  Chapter 18

  "Does that door lock?" Petroc muttered. His hands slid down to cup her bottom and lift her off the desk. He turned and stepped back, so he sat on the chair and she straddled his lap.

  "Automatically." Vaguely, she remembered she had an appointment coming.

  "Not for half an hour." He laughed at her pique that he picked the thought from her mind so easily. "Only when we're touching. Only when we're this close." A hungry growl touched his voice, vibrating through the place where their minds touched. "I want to get a lot closer."

  "Nothing and no one will ever come between us again?" Rhianni leaned back and held up her thumb in front of his nose. Petroc grabbed her hand and pressed her scar to his lips.

  When he released her hand, he cupped her cheek, traced the line of her jaw with his fingertips in a caress that made her shiver. Then his fingers drifted down to the closure for the high collar of her uniform.

  "How do you open this thing?"

  "Roc!" She squirmed, which did amazing things to the melting, churning sensation deep inside. The heat radiating from Petroc seemed to skyrocket in response. "This is my office."

  "I already looked over the schematics--bodyguard, remember?" His grin, the brief sparkle of blue in his eyes gave her a totally new understanding of what he meant by guarding her body. "It's soundproof and bomb-proof and that carpet looks pretty comfortable."

  "We're not married yet!" Rhianni thought of her fairly comfortable bed in the house the Council had given her. Maybe it was silly, but she wanted things perfect, comfortable, private, the first time she made love with Petroc.

  "Yes we are." He caught her hand, pressed his scarred thumb to hers and interlaced their fingers. His hand was large, calloused and hot enough to make her break out in a sweat. "We've been married since we were kids. I'm sick of waiting for you, Anni. I've been aching inside for so long and now you've come back--I feel like I'm alive again. If we don't make love pretty soon, I'm going to explode. You're my mate, my wife." He closed his eyes and his mouth, like a man slamming a door.

  "Either of us could die tomorrow," she whispered, catching what he hadn't wanted to say or think.

  "Battlefield mentality, just like your father used to tell us. Not exactly the pretty words you should hear, but--"

  Rhianni attacked, smothering his words with her mouth, twining her fingers through his hair to hold him still. Petroc froze for two heartbeats, then he matched her with intensity and hungry need. She laughed, the sound muffled in his mouth as their tongues collided, dueling for space and control, until the contest turned into a caress. His hands roved over her body, tugging at her clothes, cupping and caressing every curve. He found the way to squeeze the magnetic tabs on her collar to open her uniform.

  "No fair!" Petroc's wail hinted at laughter. He pushed her back to arm's length so her tailbone balanced on his knees. "What is this thing?"

  Rhianni burst out laughing. She tugged back the flaps of her tunic, revealing the glossy, fluorescent blue shock suit encasing her. Not a seam or opening; the flexible armor looked painted on her.

  "My shock suit. It has medical and tracking sensors built into it and protects me from acid darts, fire, minor impacts, even explosions."

  "Without your helmet?" He ran a fingertip down the sleek curves of her suit, between her breasts. Rhianni shivered at the caress. He grinned. "Not much protection, is it?"

  "Inverse proportion to the attack," she managed to say with only a minimal tremble in her voice. "My helmet is over there. Plenty of time to get it on if someone tries to break in here." She gestured vaguely into the corner of the office.

  "Who designed this thing? The Eternal Virginity Society?" He kissed her when she laughed again.

  "Be fair, Roc. I wasn't planning on getting married when I got dressed this morning."

  "You're making me pay for ambushing you."

  "I'm making you pay for not kissing me the day I came home."

  "We'd still be in bed, if I'd kissed you then," he growled softly. His hands were hard but gentle enough to make her shiver as he tugged her tunic off her arms. "Now, how do I get you out of this gisseg shell before I tear it apart with my teeth?"

  Her desk alarm chimed. It was built into the desktop, along with her computer. Rhianni wished it had been swept off the desk and broken when Petroc pulled her into his arms.

  "What's that?" He sighed, probably guessing.

  "My appointment is ten minutes away."

  "Can't do everything I want in ten minutes."

  "We won't be able to get ourselves looking normal, let alone my office." She scooted backwards off his lap and when Petroc didn't stop her, something deep inside her belly throbbed in protest.

  She closed up her uniform while Petroc shoveled her papers and report chips and all the other clutter back onto her desk. Rhianni was glad she had worn her hair in a simple ponytail this morning--easy to yank the clip free and finger-comb her hair back into place after the mess Petroc had made of it with his hungry caresses. Her lips felt bruised. She could only pray the signs of his kisses weren't as visible as they felt.

  The intercom pinged. They both froze. It pinged again.

  "Captain?" Piper cleared her throat. Rhianni suspected her assistant knew exactly what they had been doing, despite the soundproofing. "Captain, Mistress Callee is here to see you."

  Rhianni nearly said, 'who?' then remembered: Janese's married name. Janese had become the liaison between the new military office and the Council.

  "In a moment," she finally responded. Her voice sounded normal. She hated her ability to dissemble. "I'm still finishing up a few things. Tell her a minute or two more. My bodyguard will be coming out, Piper. Make sure all his passes are in order, so no one gives him any trouble. And give him a key card to my quarters," she hurried to add.

  "Yes, captain." The intercom squealed as the connection broke.

  "Good timing?" Petroc murmured. He raked his fingers through his hair, yanking it back
into place. For a moment, a flash of fury wiped away the aching, hungry lassitude left in the wake of their interrupted love play.

  "Rotten timing."

  He stole one more kiss before they finished putting themselves and the office back together. Rhianni decided her desk wasn't any worse off than it had been before he pulled her across it into his arms. She prayed she could say the same about herself.

  "What's this meeting about? Anything I need to do besides stand here and intimidate your visitor?"

  "Roc..." Rhianni was relieved when her mind started to race, meaning the last twenty minutes of scorching play hadn't totally fried her circuits.

  Janese had made no effort to contact her since that attack in the courtyard garden. Rhianni had hoped to have at least heard from her when she had her baby. But more important, Janese had known Petroc when they were children. She was Mistress Shoreel's assistant. She probably knew everything the woman and her coterie of thieves were doing to the planet. Janese hated the Taken. Could she recognize Petroc despite the years and his disguise?

  "You have to leave. Janese is out there. Remember her, from when we were children? Her brother died in the Talroqi invasion, but she survived. She's my grandmother's assistant. She could recognize you."

  "Janese?" Petroc frowned and shook his head slowly.

  "She claims she's a Taken. She isn't, is she?"

  "I know every single Taken. Even if they can't enter the Merger, it lets me touch their minds. Janese was never part of it." He shook his head again, his frown deepening. "Why would she claim to be a Taken? How could she work with your grandmother if she was one?"

  "I don't know, but I think I made a huge mistake. Roc, she says she married a man from the Second Wave, and Taken killed him. She should have died with him if she was a Taken, shouldn't she?"

  "Probably. We don't go halfway with things like that. People laugh at us, for being so careful about not touching other adults. Now you know why."

  "Incineration," she whispered. "Roc, if she lied about her husband and being Taken... I don't know. There's a huge clue ready to slap us both off our feet, but I can't see it clearly."