Heartmate (29 page)

The cat door scraped open and shut. Zanth entered.

Eleven

“Shhh!” T'Ash hissed as Zanth paused by the cat-door
of the gardenshed.

Zanth burped loudly.
Many slow, fat skirrls.

“Haven't you had enough to eat, today?”

Zanth walked over to the permamoss pallet, deliberately clicking his claws noisily on the stone floor.
Snack. Missed many meals today. Went some Passage with you. Did much magic. Deserve skirrls.
He yawned, then his pink tongue came out and swiped at his mouth.

“How are the fires?”

Firemages control. Burn some deserted buildings in Downwind.
He sniffed.
One of My favorite holes.

“Too bad.”

Zanth jumped up to a bench where an old pillow, retrieved from T'Ash's cache, sat. He trod around on it, kneading it until it took his scent. He smiled, a sickeningly sweet smile, as sweet as a cat-smile got.

 
Danith awoke groggily, but her eyes widened at the
view of water droplets catching the morning sunlight as they trickled down a muscular back.

Lord and Lady, what had she done! Then she forced herself to calm. She'd been good. She winced. She'd reverted to the earliest childhood concept, “good.” Be “good” for your father when he gets home, her mother would say. Be “good” and follow the rules, Maiden Brigit at the orphanage would admonish. And she always had been. Good.

But as she caught a glimpse of T'Ash's hard profile, she knew it was no time to think of being “bad.” Too dangerous. Too damn dangerous. She couldn't afford the further complications in her life.

She scrambled to her feet.

He turned.

She'd hoped he'd smile at her, but he didn't. His gaze was as intense as ever, as challenging, as passionate. She didn't dare drop her glance to below his waist. He efficiently dried himself with a ragged towel.

“How's your foot?”

She glanced down at the bandage that swaddled her foot, then sat and peeled it off. She rotated her ankle, arched her foot, wiggled her toes.

“Great!” Her smile died at his smoldering expression. “I'm ready to go home.” She walked to the window and looked outside. “A bright and beautiful Discovery Day. A good omen.”

“Happy Discovery Day.”

“And to you.” She gazed at the green verdancy of the Blackthorn estate, noted the mixture of Celtan trees and Earth trees and hybrids. Danith lifted her gaze to the sky and rubbed her arms up and down. “Imagine leaving your home planet because you were persecuted for Flair.” She shivered. “All those long generations on the starships, being born and living and dying on the way to a new home. Or being locked in a timesuspension cube, flying to a new planet and a new future for your people and the culture you wanted to establish.” The sun, Bel, was a small blue-white speck radiant in the deep blue sky. Danith shook her head. “Such courage and hope.”

T'Ash crossed to stand next to her. She could feel his breath disturb her hair. “You have courage and Flair. But do you have hope of a beautiful new future?”

Danith tensed.

Before she could reply, he asked, “I gave you a bracelet with a charm of the ship,
Lugh's Spear
?”

Though she was gland he turned the subject, she bit her lip, trying to remember it amongst all the other jewelry he'd gifted her with. When she did, her heart softened. “Yes, it is very beautiful. You made the tiny spaceship?”

“My design, sculpted, then cast in silver.”

“Yes. Thank you.”

He watched her with wary hope in his eyes. “You didn't return it again?”

She cleared her throat, considered telling him of the antique jewelry chest Holm Holly had provided, and decided against it. “No.”

He smiled. “It is not too much as a Discovery Day gift.”

Perhaps not for the nobility, but it would have set Claif back a pretty penny, too much for a holiday token.

Danith smiled brightly and opened the door. “You look ready to go, too. Where is Zanth?”

He grinned and Danith's heart flip-flopped.

“Zanth has a standing breakfast appointment with my chef.”

Danith frowned. “It's Discovery Day. You make your chef work on Discovery Day?”

T'Ash blinked. “No. I have no live-in help; most of my Residence is cared for by permanent spells. My chef comes in on weekdays. For a moment I forgot it was Discovery Day. I wonder if Zanth remembered that the chef is gone.”

“So your chef is Zanth's first station in his daily food round?”

“Yes. The cat must have a food round. He's familiar with more GreatHouse Families than I.” He tossed the towel aside and held out his hand. “My strength and Flair are much restored. I can 'port us home.”

She looked at him in silence. Why could she never ignore that strong hand held out to her? She bit her lip again and took the few steps to place her hand in his.

“My house,” she said firmly, thinking it would be safer.

“Front or back?”

“Back.”

“All right. I'll visualize it and 'port us there. Try not to think of it yourself. We don't want contradictory images.”

“Fine.”

His brow furrowed.

His power built.

A flash of colors.

They arrived. She stumbled headlong.

With a smooth, effortless tug he steadied her.

Her mind stopped spinning. She blinked in the morning sunlight.

“Hello, Danith,” Claif said.

He lounged on one of the café chairs, studying Zanth, who sat near the food bowl on the stoop. Zanth watched him back.

Claif raised his eyes and smiled. His cheerful, guileless smile that always made her heart warm to him.

T'Ash pulled her behind his back, his grip changing to her wrist.

“Let me go!” she cried.

“You have an intruder,” T'Ash said emotionlessly.

“It's Claif.” She struggled to get free, but T'Ash wasn't letting go. With a frustrated noise she stepped to one side to see.

Claif rose slowly to his feet.

“Who?” asked T'Ash.

“Claif Clover,” Claif introduced himself. He looked T'Ash up and down, expression mild but a hint of anger in his eyes. “New friend, Dani, m'love?”

T'Ash pushed her behind him again. “Mine.”

Danith closed her eyes and ground her teeth. “Let me go. Now.”

T'Ash released her wrist, but kept his arms out, blocking her way to Claif.

“Interesting,” Claif said, staring at T'Ash's wide, bare chest and leather trous. He met her gaze and raised an eyebrow. “Sporting out of your league, Dani?”

“It's T'Ash,” Danith said.

“T'Ash,” Claif repeated in a meditative tone. He cocked his head. “Downwind background, noble status. Mitchella mentioned him. Downwind or Noble, he's still out of your league.”

Danith sighed. Claif was right. She rubbed her wrist.

T'Ash took a step forward. She got the impression that he was still primarily focused on her, and she'd have no chance to get around him.

“We two are a league of our own,” T'Ash said.

“You missed the party last night, Dani. The Family worried.”

How appalling, that she should cause good people anxiety. “I'm so sorry, there wasn't any place to scry from—”

“She was safe with me,” T'Ash said.

Again Claif scanned T'Ash up and down. Claif smoothed back his thick blond hair, cut short as this year's fashion demanded.

Danith caught herself looking at T'Ash's long, tangled black locks. He cared no more for current hairstyles than he did fashion. She wasn't sure why, or what it meant to her, and didn't have time to figure it out.

Just days ago Danith had thought Claif a fine figure of a man. Now she saw him in comparison to T'Ash. Claif was not as tall or as muscular. His blond hair and fair skin also made him appear less substantial than T'Ash. Claif's eyes were also blue, a darker shade than T'Ash's intense sky-crystal blue, but they still appeared washed-out next to T'Ash's.

Admitting to herself that she no longer wanted Claif, and admitting it to the men—and the Fam—were two different matters.

“I have a Discovery Day gift.” Claif patted his jacket pocket.

She smiled. “And I have one for you, too.”

He returned her smile. She wondered at his ability to completely ignore the large, scowling man between them.

“You are coming to the Family Discovery Day Ritual, aren't you? In Pink's big grassyard? After the ceremony there'll be quite a feast.” Claif's smile widened.

T'Ash spoke. “No. She's D'Mallow. She attends the FirstFamilies Ritual in GreatCircle Temple with me.”

“I'll make my own decisions,” Danith said between gritted teeth. “Let me by.”

When T'Ash shifted to block her every step, a surge of pure fire blazed through her veins.

Pop!

She 'ported to right before Claif.

She staggered and would have fallen if Claif hadn't reached out, caught her upper arms, and placed her on her feet.

T'Ash and Zanth snarled.

The little jump left her breathing hard, trembling with sudden exhaustion.

Claif brushed her face with the lightest of touches. His fingers carried no hard callouses like T'Ash's.

Zanth appeared at her feet, hissing.

“Zanth!” Danith said.

The Fam subsided into a continuing subvocal growl.

Claif's new smile was lopsided, echoing a trace of sadness in his eyes. “D'Mallow. A noble name. A noble lady. Perhaps you are, indeed, finally in your league.”

He took a step back and bowed formally, elegantly.

“Merry meet—”

“Claif—”

“Go away,” T'Ash said.

Zanth raised the note of his yowl.

“Merry part, and merry meet again,” Claif ended. “If it pleases you, come to the Ritual this afternoon. It starts Bel-high. Noon.”

“She attends the FirstFamilies Ritual at GreatCircle temple with me.”

Claif smiled again, the same half-smile. “This is a jeweler?” He looked at them both, then took a small gray velvet box from his pocket and placed it on the café table. “My gift cannot compete with his, but know this, it is given with all my love.” He turned and, spine straightening, walked away from them, around the corner of the house to the front path.

Danith reached for the box.

“Don't touch!” T'Ash ordered.

She flung him a simmering glance. All her nerves felt afire, as if a web of flame lived and grew within her. Before she could close her hand on Claif's gift, Zanth jumped on the table and carried it away in strong jaws, hissing all the while. He disappeared.

Danith stomped her foot. She opened her mouth to shout at T'Ash and nothing came out. He matched her glare. Finally she found and controlled her voice. “No! I will not attend the Discovery Day Ritual at GreatCircle Temple with you!”

T'Ash rocked back on his heels. He stared at her from narrowed eyes but clasped his hands behind him. “You will come with me.”

“I run my life, GreatLord. Me, Danith Mallow. I make my decisions, and I don't take orders from anyone anymore. I had enough of that in my old life. The Maidens at the orphanage, my boss.” She sent him a searing look. “You wouldn't know of that, of how petty a boss can be.”

He jerked a thumb at his chest. “Apprenticed four years to a mean glistensmith bordering Downwind. I know. We match, D'Mallow and T'Ash. You will be expected at FirstFamilies Ritual.”

Her vision began to fade behind a red haze. “I doubt that. I don't even start training until next Midweek. Or do you nobles insist on subservience of the newest at the very instant they're made noble? You allow no time—” Her words dried. She stumbled past him on the way to the door.

“Danith—”

Hot tears poured from her eyes. An emotional storm gripped her too hard for her to care about the sight she made.

A shouted Word and her door opened.

“Danith!”

“Leave me be. By all that lives in this universe, leave me be.”

“I'll be by to take you to Ritual one septhour before Bel-high.”

She barely heard him. Slammed the door in his face.

She staggered to the bedroom and shoved that door open. A faint, lingering sexual wave from the necklace washed over her. Her entire body torched into burning fire. Pain too dreadful to voice swallowed her.

She fell facedown for the bedsponge, turning her head at the last moment.