Fire Pearl (Beyond Ontariese 5) (3 page)

A distinct scratching drew Drakkin’s
attention toward the overlapping flaps. He only knew one other
person capable of navigating a temporal shift, the person who had
arranged for the
nenalte
to be assembled here. “Enter.”

The man bent nearly in half as he eased
through the low opening. “I thought I felt your arrival.”

Drakkin smiled at Indric, Prince Regent of
the San Adrin. “I appreciate your hospitality.”

“You’re always welcome in my camp and you
know it. Of course, you’re not actually in my camp yet.”

“I’ll repeat the greeting when I am.”
Indric’s “camp” was actually a bustling city, largest and most
densely populated in the region. And Indric lived in a lavish
palace not a traditional
nenalte.

Indric bowed his head, sending his
gold-threaded black hair flowing over one broad shoulder. “If you
keep entrusting me with your women, I might start thinking you have
no use for them.”

“I trust you implicitly, and neither of these
women belongs to me.”

“Really?” He stroked his close-cropped beard
and gazed off into the distance.

“Krystabel has been to hell and back. If she
has caught your eye, you must—”

Indric’s gaze snapped back to his. “You have
nothing to worry about. She has eyes for one man and one man
alone.”

“What are you talking about?”

“He is frequently cradled in her arms.”

Drakkin realized he meant the boy for which
she was caring and relaxed. “There was more than passing curiosity
in your tone.”

One corner of Indric’s mouth quirked, but he
ignored the observation. “If this one does not belong to you
either, why have you brought her here? Your message didn’t
elaborate.”

“I’ll explain everything when I’m certain
it’s safe to release the temporal shift. I’m not sure how Aria will
react to all I must teach her. We need this time alone.”

“I understand. Training women is always
challenging.” A sardonic smile framed his teeth and made the gold
rings in his dark eyes glisten.

“This will not be that sort of training.”

One of Indric’s brows arched dramatically,
but he left the challenge unspoken. Instead he indicated their
surroundings. “Do you have everything you need?”

“Everything and more.” Drakkin inclined his
head in a customary show of respect. When he raised his face again,
he found Indric’s gaze narrowed and assessing as it swept over
Aria.

“Where did you find a
jumanna
?” The
glint in his eyes now had nothing to do with humor.

Gathering Aria close against his chest,
Drakkin stared at his friend. “The resemblance is striking, I
admit, but she is not Bilarrian. Her mother was from Ontariese and
her father—”

“Was Rodyte?” Indric crossed his arms over
his chest, his expression hardening. “The Rodytes are our genetic
brothers, whether they choose to acknowledge the fact or not.
Rodyte blood can produce Bilarrian gifts.”

“Her father was only half Rodyte. The
jumanna
are rare even in full-blooded Bilarrians.”

Indric shook his head, clearly unconvinced.
“What color are her eyes?”

Tension coiled through Drakkin. Aria’s eyes
were closed and had been since they arrived. Indric couldn’t have
seen the striking combination of lavender and mauve. Still, the
question gave Drakkin pause. Aria’s mother had possessed vivid
purple eyes, her father emerald green. So how had she ended up with
the eyes of a
jumanna
?

“Look at her hair,” Indric went on, “it
shimmers with strands of fire and her skin gleams with a
pearlescent sheen. Do her nipples turn crimson when she’s aroused?
A
jumanna
’s cream will intoxicate her lover, make him wild
and insatiable.”

Drakkin fidgeted on the furs, stifling a
groan. “I’m well acquainted with the legend, but Aria can’t
possibly be a fire pearl.”

“It’s no legend, my friend. I spent one night
with a
jumanna
in my youth and the memory lingers with me
still.” Indric shifted his gaze from Drakkin to Aria and back.
“They are creatures of sensuality and grace. Her pleasure will
infuse your entire body and make your magic stronger. They can even
trigger dormant gifts. If this woman is not yours already, claim
her immediately.”

Indric didn’t understand the situation.
Drakkin had promised to mentor Aria, to awaken her Mystic
abilities, not explore her sexual aptitude. “She’s a woman in her
sexual prime. If she possessed these abilities, it would have been
discovered long ago. She might look like a fire pearl, but her
magic flows from Ontariese.”

“If you have never been with her, how can you
be sure? Awaken her with your kiss. Touch her and taste her and see
if what I say is true.”

Drakkin could barely speak. Images rolled
through his mind. He pictured Aria spread out on the furs, her
glorious hair framing her naked body. She arched and sighed as he
knelt between her thighs, his tongue exploring her crimson
folds.

Cunning light ignited in Indric’s gaze as he
continued to stare at Aria. “When you arrive in my camp it is
customary to present her to me.”

A surge of protectiveness urged Drakkin to
refuse. This was the sort of nonsense that started wars. “She is
not a
jumanna
and you have been my friend for twelve
centuries. Of course, I will present her to you.”

Something prickly tickled the side of Aria’s
face. She turned away from the annoyance and throbbing erupted
inside her head. Where was she? The last thing she remembered
was—
him
. She remembered the man with the red-ringed eyes
teleporting with her. Drakkin. He’d said his name was Drakkin.

Holding perfectly still, she eased her eyes
open. She was lying on a pile of furs in some multi-colored tent.
If he thought she was still asleep… Her thoughts scattered as her
gaze landed on her captor. Naked to the waist, he stood with his
back to her. The sculpted perfection of his torso distracted her
for a moment before she gave herself a mental shake. She needed to
find a weapon, some way of defending herself.

She had to press her lips together to keep
from laughing. He could materialize out of thin air and teleport at
will with a struggling passenger on board. Would any weapon be
effective against someone like him?

That left escape. But she had no idea where
he’d taken her or why she’d been his target. Better to cooperate
for a time and gather information.

He made a waving motion with his hand and his
tight black pants disappeared. Aria sucked in a ragged breath. With
or without those pants, his was the finest ass she’d ever seen.
Tight and round and perfect for squeezing.

What was wrong with her? Regardless of his
appearance, he was her kidnapper, her captor. Her enemy.

Tension rippled down his back, accenting the
muscular definition. Had he heard her muted gasp?

“This climate is too hot for my usual
attire.” He poured water into a basin and quickly washed before
conjuring a pair of loose linen pants. “I’d hoped to change before
you recovered.”

She held her dressing gown together and
managed to sit up. This situation would be as intimidating as she
allowed it to be. “You saw me naked in my dressing room. I guess
this is only fair.”

The matching tunic was still clutched in his
hand when he turned sharply and looked at her. “What I glimpsed in
your dressing room left me eager to see more. Are you willing to
show me?” He stalked toward her, desire shining in his eyes.

Maybe challenging him wasn’t such a good
idea. She licked her lips and fiddled with the gaping halves of her
robe, covering as much of her legs as possible.

“I didn’t bring you here to seduce you.” His
fingers curved around her chin, drawing her gaze back to his. “If
you are in need, however, I’d be happy to oblige.”

“Why
did
you bring me here?” She
ignored his proposition and waited until he lowered his hand. “You
said you knew my father.”

Her comment defused the tension and he tugged
the tunic on over his head. “You might find the
k’fal
more
comfortable.” He motioned toward a purple garment on her left.
“I’ll even turn my back, if you insist.”

She scooted to the edge of the furs then
stood. Picking up the dress, she shook it out with a sharp snap.
Largely shapeless, the gauzy material would flow from chest to
ankle, the front and back panels connected by two wide straps.
Intricate embroidery decorated the upper band and created a lavish
border at the hem.

Without glancing at Drakkin, she lowered the
gown over her head and slipped off her robe. The
k’fal
had
no sleeves to speak of, just the connecting straps. She pushed her
arms through the openings and felt the material settle against her
skin. “That is better.” She sighed. “Now why would my father want
to contact me after all these years? I presumed my mother hadn’t
told him about me.”

Actually, Aria had presumed her mother didn’t
know who fathered her child. The one and only time her mother spoke
about it, she’d been so defensive, Aria never brought it up again.
Her mother had been a space pet. She was passed from man to man,
sometimes within the same day. Rather than pique her interest,
Drakkin’s claim only made her more suspicious.

“Would you care for something to drink before
I begin? It’s a complicated story.”

“No, thank you.” She spotted several chairs
on the other side of the room. They were low and backless. Still,
anything was better than sitting on that pile of furs. “Where are
we? That might be a nice place to start.” She couldn’t hope to
escape until she understood her situation. He was being courteous
and calm, but she couldn’t allow herself to be lulled by his charm.
She was his prisoner.

He followed her to the chairs and sat beside
her before he started his explanation. “We’re on Bilarri, in the
desert region of San Adrin, to be exact.”

She had no way of verifying his claim. They
could be anywhere, including Rodymia. The first vortex had whisked
her away to the relative safety of Earth. Had Drakkin tracked her
down and brought her back? She focused on his eyes. All the Rodytes
she’d seen, including her mother, had blue rings in their eyes.
She’d always wondered why her eyes were a different color.

“Is Bilarri near Rodymia?” Her mouth was so
dry she struggled to form the question.

“You don’t need to be afraid. No one will
ever hurt you again. I have pledged myself to your protection.”

He seemed sincere, but she knew how easily
men could deceive with earnest words. Drakkin’s image had first
appeared the same day she’d heard Faujer’s commander. She
remembered his words, but the sound of the commander’s voice eluded
her. Was it possible they were one and the same? She shook away the
notion. Nothing in her dreams indicated a connection between
Drakkin and Faujer. But could she trust her dreams?

She released a quiet sigh, not wanting to
reveal her anxiety. The longer he believed she was accepting this
without protest the better her chances were that she could surprise
him with an escape.

“What makes you think I need protection?” And
why hadn’t he answered her question?

“I see fear in your eyes.” He reached for her
hand. She snatched it away. “Perhaps my information will put you at
ease.” With a flick of his wrist, he conjured a translucent crystal
and handed it to her. “Hold it up to the light. Your father’s
likeness is captured in the disk. His name was Vee. He was my
apprentice.”

Tension wound through her, tightening muscles
and spreading apprehension. A lifetime of teaching surged to the
surface, compounding her agitation. He commanded magic with
effortless ease, obviously used to the benefits of his power.
Sorcerers were corrupt and cruel. Every Rodyte knew they couldn’t
be trusted.

Not wanting to upset him, she looked through
the crystal and saw a man with long white hair. At first glance he
appeared old, yet his features were ageless. Wisdom shone in his
bright green eyes and his expression was solemn, almost sad.

“You said his name
was
Vee.” Lowering
her hand, she rested the crystal in her lap. “Is that why you came
looking for me? Did he mention me in his will or something?” The
question made her want to laugh. What rich man would claim a space
pet’s bastard?

“In a way. His death was sudden, but he
sensed it approaching and made arrangements for your rescue. You
will never want for anything again. I will see to it.”

“Right.” She did laugh then. It was all so
preposterous, she couldn’t help herself. “You’re a kindhearted
stranger sent by the father I never knew to whisk me away to a life
filled with happiness and security. Oh wait, can I be a princess
too?”

He chuckled and held out his hand. She passed
the crystal back to him. “I’ll have to check the Wisdom of the
Ages. I’m not sure what your title will be.”

She tried to relax. He was clearly crazy. She
just hoped he was the harmless kind of crazy, the easily outwitted
kind. “How long have you been looking for me? How did you know
where to look?” Had he sent the dreams intentionally or had they
formed some sort of unconscious link when she teleported to Earth?
It was hard to think of him as a stranger when she’d spent so many
nights observing random snippets of his life.

“This is where the story gets complicated. As
I said, I trained your father, but he was far more than a pupil to
me. He was perhaps the best friend I ever had, and I’ve had many.”
His lips pressed together and pain flashed through his gaze. If she
hadn’t been watching him so closely, she never would have seen the
fleeting change. There was still a chance he was a brilliant actor,
but a bit of her suspicion eased. “After Vee left Bilarri, he went
to Ontariese and founded the Conservatory. He wanted to create a
training facility where Mystics could flourish regardless of
political affiliation or socioeconomic standing.”