Betrayed by Trust

SEDUCE THE ENEMY …
STEAL HIS LEGACY …
RUN FOR YOUR LIFE

January, 1979. The Vietnam war is over, the oil embargo and long gas lines a bad memory, and Three Mile Island is just a power plant that few have ever heard of.

Marianne Benton works for the Trust, a secretive organization guarding against abuses of paranormal power. Her next assignment: rescue an Elemental Spirit from slavery—by seducing the heir to an occult dynasty.

As a former Green Beret, Dan Collier knows how to follow orders. His assignment: help Marianne sleep with another man. After that: keep her alive.

Falling in love is optional.

LIGHTBRINGER

A Celestial Affairs Novel

“You won’t want to put it down.”

~ Roxy Rogers, author of
Gabriel’s Release
and
Be Careful What You Wish For.

“Riveting! I can’t remember the last time I enjoyed a book so much. Ms. Robertson has written a compelling story with engaging characters and a well-paced plot.”

~ Caroline Mickelson, author of
From Mangia to Murder
and Witch Weigh.

“I stayed up way past my bedtime because I couldn’t put it down.”

~ Casey Wyatt, author of
Mystic Ink
, and Mystic Storm.

DANGEROUS TALENTS
and
FORBIDDEN TALENTS

“A great tale of adventure and romance, beautifully imagined and deeply engaging from beginning to end!”

~ Diana Gabaldon, bestselling author of
Outlander, An Echo in the Bone
, and the
Lord John Grey
series.

“Grabs you from the start with excellent pacing, fascinating characters and culture, and a satisfying romance. I want more!”

~ Jennifer Roberson, bestselling author of
Karavans
, the
Sword Dancer
series,
The Chronicles of the Cheysuli
series, and
Lady of the Glen
.

“Romance, peril, and magic: what more could anyone ask?”

~ Dennis L. McKiernan, author of the
Mithgar
series, and the Faery series.

VEILED MIRROR

“Quick supple writing—an unusual and gripping tale—and did I mention sexy?”

~ Melanie Rawn, bestselling author of
Glass Thorns, The Diviner
, and Spellbinder.

“
Veiled Mirror
kept me guessing until the very end.”

~ Jordan Summers, author of the
Moonight Kin
series, the
Phantom Warriors
series, and Red.

WITH HEART TO HEAR

“A delicious tale, beautifully rendered and hotly sensual.”

~ Kathleen Kirkwood, author of
A Slip in Time
, and
The Defiant Heart
.

“Ms. Robertson combines a lush prose style with a sharp eye for characterization and detail. You will not be disappointed.”

~ Jody Wallace, author of
Pack and Coven, A Wintertide Spell,
and
A Mage By Any Other Name.

For Kathryn Kane, friend and fan. I can only imagine the adventures you’re having now.

Late January, 1979
San Diego, California

I
looked up from the keyboard of my
DEC
10 computer terminal and smiled as Barry Mackson appeared in the doorway of my windowless, closet-sized office. My office, if it could be called that, had once been a butler’s pantry in the old Victorian that now housed the San Diego chapter of the Trust. A knee hole had been carved into the lower cabinets, and I perched on a padded bar stool, keying in data on paranormal and occult activity occurring in southern California, Arizona, and New Mexico. Most days there wasn’t much input, so I also spent a fair amount of time playing Adventure.

Instead of leaning against the wall and proposing an evening stroll along the Embarcadero or a margarita in Old Town like he usually did, Barry stood silent and rigid, his fair-haired good looks and up-to-the-minute three-piece suit set off by the dark wood of the door frame.

I didn’t usually date the guys I work with, but I’d made an exception in Barry’s case. I’d been a little surprised when he’d singled me out, but he was just too good looking to say no to for very long. We’d been dating for about a month. Last night his charm and persistence had paid off, and we’d made love. The memory of his smooth broad back under my hands, his heat filling me, shot an arrow of excitement between my thighs.
My pulse sped.

Barry flashed the quicksilver grin I found so appealing, but it wavered around the edges, chilling the warmth that was rising in my belly. Clearly he wasn’t thinking about last night.

“Come with me. Mr. Foxworth wants to meet you.”

That was definitely not what I’d expected him to say. I didn’t even try to hide my shock.
“Foxworth?”

Isaac Foxworth was the omnipresent but faceless head of the Trust—at least, that’s how it seemed. His presence and influence was felt everywhere and in every decision, even though he wasn’t often seen. He didn’t need to be. All he had to do was make his wishes known and Kincaid and the other directors executed them without question. Mr. Foxworth didn’t often leave his isolated headquarters in Nevada, seldom visited the local chapters, and he certainly didn’t take meetings with lowly data processors like me.

I shut my mouth and fell into step beside Barry, anticipation quickening my pace. “What’s going on?” I asked softly, craning my neck to catch a glimpse of his expression. Even in heels I barely came up to his shoulder. I didn’t want to draw the receptionist’s attention, even though Maria had to know Mr. Foxworth was in the building. Maria didn’t gossip. No one who worked for the Trust did and kept their job. But her sharp eyes gave the impression that every event she observed was being filed away for future use.

Barry shot me a sidelong glance. “That’s for Mr. Foxworth to say.” His evasive answer only increased my anxiety.

I followed Barry up the curving, dark wood staircase to the second floor, then a narrower, dog-leg flight to the third. His muscular butt was at eye level, distracting me a little from my nerves. He surfed most weekends and had the buns and thighs to prove it. I confess, it was partly my desire to squeeze those cheeks that got me into the sack with him. Unfortunately, the view didn’t last. Too soon we were at the top floor.

Mr. Kincaid’s secretary, Betina, said, “They’re expecting you.”

Barry rapped on the six panel door, then let me precede him into the Director’s office. Dark wainscoting and glass-paned barrister’s bookcases lined the walls. Mr. Kincaid’s broad desk took up most of the space in front of the wide bow window, but he wasn’t sitting behind it. Another man was silhouetted there, his face hard to make out with the afternoon sunlight shining brightly from behind him. A coffee service sat to one side, but he didn’t offer us a cup.

He rose and gestured at the leather club chairs facing him. “Please have a seat, Miss Benton, Mr. Mackson.” He didn’t bother introducing himself. He didn’t need to.

Barry took the seat to my right. I sat, smoothing my suit skirt under my butt in the lady-like way my mother had taught me. Apparently Mr. Foxworth hadn’t heard that Ms. was the preferred form of address for women in the workplace these days, but I wasn’t going to correct him. For a moment he just looked at me in silence, as if he knew what I was thinking, then resumed his seat behind the desk. I fiddled with my
MIA
bracelet, then stopped myself from fidgeting.

“Are you involved with anyone at the moment, Ms. Benton?”

I barely noticed he’d switched to using ‘Ms.’ This wasn’t the sort of question an employer ought to ask, but then the Trust wasn’t the usual sort of employer. Somehow I kept myself from glancing at Barry.
He knows. Why else would he ask?

“I just recently started seeing someone.” The Trust had no official rule against dating a co-worker, but I saw no reason to invite trouble.

Mr. Foxworth nodded as if that were the correct answer. “And are you a virgin?”

I gasped and felt myself color. I was glad now that he hadn’t offered coffee—I might have spewed it across the polished mahogany desk. Never in my worst nightmare had I imagined being asked such a question by a man old enough to be my grandfather. Sunlight backlit his silver hair, giving the impression of a halo, though the arrogance radiating from him didn’t seem in the least angelic. If this man disapproved of me and Barry sleeping together, he could fire both of us with one word.

I wished I could see his face, read there what his interest in me was, but ultimately it didn’t matter. I liked my job and I wanted to keep it, but I wouldn’t be cowed. “That’s none of your business, sir.”

Foxworth chuckled. “Normally, you’d be correct, Ms. Benton, but the Trust has an important project in mind for you, and your answer is pertinent.”

The public face of the Trust was the Foxworth Educational Foundation, a philanthropic organization. It funded scholarships and research grants to several universities. It’s real purpose, however, was to collect information about anomalous, occult, and paranormal events and the individuals involved in such activity. Very few people knew how that information was used, and I wasn’t one of them. My sex life was neither anomalous, occult, nor anything other than normal. Why would Foxworth possibly need to know about it?

Barry touched my hand briefly. “It’s okay, Marianne. I already told Kincaid.”

Horror stole my breath for a moment, and I gaped at Barry, boggled that he would share that with our boss. “What? Why?”

Barry gave me a weak smile, but didn’t meet my eyes. I returned my attention to Foxworth and tried to pull what dignity I could around me. “So you already know I’m not a virgin. Why ask? We’re healthy adults. There’s nothing wrong with what we did.”

This was surreal. Why would the head of the Trust come to San Diego for this? Were they about to fire us? But if that was all it was, Kincaid would have done it.

“No, Ms. Benton, I’m not about to fire you. Your jobs are safe.”

My attention sharpened. This was the second time Foxworth had seemed to read my mind. There were psychics on the staff. Was he one of them? Was that how he kept such close tabs on everything going on within the Trust?

“Mr. Kincaid told me you’ve been sleeping with Mr. Mackson, but I need to learn how comfortable you are with your sexuality. That’s why I’ve asked you these personal questions. Our project requires a discrete young woman who has nevertheless embraced the modern, more progressive cultural attitudes.”

Now I was really confused.
He wants a woman who doesn’t think sex needs to be saved for marriage.
That described most of the women I’d known in college. What was this all about? I was pretty sure this wasn’t a personal fishing expedition. The sexual vibe wasn’t there, and there were much better ways to find a mistress. I decided to be as direct as he’d been. “Why?”

“You will not be under any compulsion to accept this assignment. You are free to refuse. However, what I’m about to tell you is quite delicate. Regardless of what you decide, you cannot discuss this with anyone outside the project, not even within the Trust. Do you agree?”

He’d piqued my curiosity. There was no way I could refuse and leave without knowing what this was about. “Yes, of course.”

“You’ve heard of the Golden Path?”

Most of the information I entered into the Trust’s database was from the west coast states, but I still knew about the Path. “They’re a fraternal organization based in France that likes to use occult trappings in their meetings. They sponsor a children’s medical charity and host an annual fund drive.”

Foxworth nodded. “On the surface, that’s all true. Publicly, they’re the fraternal organization you described. Beneath the surface, however, they’re something quite different.”

“Like the Trust,” I said.

“They are
nothing
like the Trust.” Foxworth’s tone sharpened with hostility and I retreated into my chair.

He waved his hand as if to brush aside my alarm, and continued in a hard tone. “The Golden Path has been influencing trade and politics in Europe for a thousand years. They’ve had a finger in every major pie since the turn of the first millennium. They persuaded King Phillip and Pope Clement to exterminate the Templars. They incited Isabella and Ferdinand to destroy the Moors, who preserved mathematics and science though the Dark Ages. The carnage of the Civil War might have been avoided if not for their interference. No. They are
not
like the Trust, Ms. Benton. Never
forget that.”

The muscles in Mr. Foxworth’s jaw jumped once, twice, before he continued in a calmer tone. “The Trust has long known there was an occult connection to their activities, but we thought they were mostly dabblers, and that their influence was the usual economic and political sort. Only recently have we learned that they’ve been drawing upon a true Power.”

“What kind of power?” I asked.

“They’re using an Elemental Spirit, a Gaian, to fuel goals that are becoming increasingly ambitious and alarming. World leaders are being subverted by magic to adopt policies and instigate wars so Le Premier and the other corporations they control can profit from arms sales and raise prices of scarce resources. They’ve used spells to create unnatural outbreaks of disease so they can sell medicine at exorbitant prices.”

“People are suffering, Marianne, all for profit and power,” Barry said.

“And their influence is growing,” Foxworth continued. “It’s all quite legal, and quite evil. We need your help to pull the plug on them. Cut them off from the source of their Power.”

My stomach clenched. Politicians were swayed enough by money; what hope did average people have of controlling their own lives if magic was being used to stack the deck against them? What Foxworth was saying was horrible, but what did he expect me to do about it? “How am I supposed to do that? I don’t know magic. I’m not even psychic!”

“Actually, the tests you took when we recruited you show you have a fair amount of latent talent, but that’s not what we need from you now, Marianne. May I call you that?”

He might as well. He already knew about my sex life. He couldn’t get much more personal. I nodded.

“The Golden Path holds a Gaian captive. Aldwyn is an Elemental Spirit whose strength they’re syphoning to use for their own twisted purposes. He volunteered fifteen hundred years ago to protect Guinevere’s last surviving child.”

“Guinevere!” I’d thought she and Arthur were the creations of poets.

“That’s the name most know her by. Her actual name was Gwenhwyfar, the white Fey. Arthur was destined to bring order to the world with Guinevere by his side. Unfortunately, their enemies proved too strong. Their first three sons were killed, but Guinevere escaped to a convent, where she bore the last of Arthur’s sons in secret. As Arthur lay dying, the Gaian, Aldwyn, swore to protect his line.”

“But what has this got to do with me?”

“Over the centuries, Arthur’s enemies evolved into The Golden Path, and 160 years ago they discovered a way to bind and use Aldwyn’s Power. He’s been serving them unwilling for well over a century. It is our goal to eliminate their unnatural influence in Europe and the middle east. To do that, we need to free Aldwyn and prevent the Path from regaining their hold over him.”

All very interesting, but he still hadn’t answered my question. “What has this got to do with whether I’m a virgin?”

Foxworth pressed his steepled fingers against his pursed lips and considered me for a moment.

I knew I wasn’t going to like what he was about to say.

“Lucius Altesse is the owner of Le Premier Industries.”

I frowned. “I recognize the company, but I’ve never heard of him.”

“That’s because he prefers to keep a low profile. Altesse lets the CEOs of his various corporations take the limelight. He doesn’t need or want the public’s interest. He’s one of the Circle of Five, the ruling body of the Golden Path, and the man who personally holds Aldwyn in thrall. He’s guarded both by magic and by mercenaries.”

“And you want me to get close to him?” I didn’t bother to tone down my incredulity.

Foxworth shook his head. “No, you won’t need to have any contact with him. His son Conrad has just transferred to
UCSD
. Altesse the younger is not fond of restrictions or his bodyguards, so you should be able to approach him.”

I was still waiting for an explanation, and my temper flared. “And do what exactly?”

Foxworth ignored my tone. “Seduce him and conceive his firstborn child.”