HeartMate Page 11

  He explored her mouth thoroughly and she strained upward, arching her body against his. More than desire was revealed in his kiss, an echoing loneliness, a craving that would overwhelm her, claim her forever. And even more. In the depths of him was the bedrock of his powerful Flair.

  His arms locked around her, lifting her from the ground. The movement collected her wits. She could never match him in strength, physical or psychic. She could never match him in status or wealth.

  She pushed against him, scrabbling for words that would put an end to this once and for all. His energy, the potent electricity between them, was frightening in its power.

  "Stop!"

  With evident reluctance, he dropped his hands and stepped back. Danith didn't dare look down his body. She knew he was aroused. She'd felt him.

  "I don't want this," she said.

  "No?" It was a challenge.

  Her smile felt more like a grimace. "I want an easy life, and you are not an easy man."

  His 'eyes darkened to midnight. "True. Life is never easy. Foolish to think so."

  She retreated out of the hot-iron-masculine smelling forge and into the sweet sunlit, flower-scented grassyard. "Why don't you leave me with a few illusions, GreatLord? Like, life is easy. Love is undemanding. Noble GreatLords are not predatory debauchers of common, Flairless women. Please don't scry or send any more gifts or flowers." She turned.

  Before she took a step, he'd caught her hands again.

  "Let me go."

  "No. What do you mean, common and Flairless? Nothing common or Flairless about you, woman!"

  Chapter Six

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  Danith blinked at T'Ash's forceful tone. Laughed.

  He slid his palms up and down her arms. Her laugh strangled on the flowing energy.

  T'Ash raised a black brow. "You hum with Flair. Fine and complex and very, very strong." He squeezed her fingers.

  She gasped at the small jolt. "That's just you."

  "No."

  "Just us, then."

  A smile quirked his mouth, reflected in his eyes, now a dazzling blue. "Maybe. Nice, isn't it?"

  She made an exasperated sound. "Let me go."

  "No. You don't believe me about your Flair."

  She shook her head.

  His mouth hardened. "You don't believe my words about the seduction spell or about life. You don't believe in my honor or your own uniqueness and Flair."

  A mew and a buzz sounded in her head.

  T'Ash glanced at his Fam. "Zanth agrees. Your aura is pink. There's only one pink person, he says."

  "He talks to you?"

  "Another thing you don't believe? That I am not telepathic with my Fam?"

  "No. I mean, yes. I believe that. I've heard of that before." She tried futilely to break his hold. She believed in his strength, too. He hadn't noticed her brief struggle. Inwardly she scoffed at herself. She could never begin to match a man who worked at an anvil and forge.

  "Not many people would question my honor to my face." He scowled at her. She stood mutinously. Banding one hand around both her wrists, he touched her cheek. "But, then, you are not just anyone. You're my He—You're special. A special pink person—the color of your aura, and special to me."

  His thick brows had lowered. She felt him searching, considering, doing something with his great Flair. His Flair as great, or greater, than his physical strength. She shivered.

  "Come with me. I will prove it."

  "Let me go!"

  "No." He glanced at her impatiently, let one of her wrists go, but kept the other. He hauled her rapidly across the grassyard separating his forge from his Residence. Zanthoxyl loped ahead of them.

  She dug in her heels, to no avail. "Let me go!"

  He stopped. Looked down at her. His jaw set. "Do you want to walk or be carried?"

  Her eyes widened. "You wouldn't."

  Just that suddenly his mood changed. He grinned. Large, white teeth flashed. "Yes, I would. I was once a Downwind scruff. Now, as Zanth informs me, I'm a Noble scruff."

  "I never meant to call you that," she said, finally admitting the shame it caused her. "I didn't mean to insult you."

  "No? Now I don't believe you." He snorted, then started off again.

  "At least slow down so I can keep up!"

  He shortened his steps and curbed his pace. She was surprised at his action, pleased, and it allayed her anxiety. She moistened her lips. "Prove what? Where are we going?"

  He stopped. When he looked at her, his saturnine face was the epitome of honorable nobility. It shook her.

  "We're going to my ResidenceDen to use my Testing Stones. I created them, and I'm the very best with stones. There are no stronger, more sensitive testing tools on Celta." His voice rang with pride.

  Blood drained from her head to her feet. She felt cold. Not again. Not to fail one more time. "No."

  He released her, bent down to level his eyes with hers. "I pray you trust me in this, Miz Mallow. If you cannot trust the man, or the GreatLord, please trust the craftsman's Flair. I swear by my lost Family that I would not lie to you in this."

  "No. I cannot do this."

  His eyes remained steady on hers, blue gaze intent. "Yes, you can." He held out a hand. "Please."

  She didn't have the courage for this, but she couldn't refuse the look he gave her. She placed her hand in his. And when his fingers enveloped hers with strength, they gave her not only a shock of pleasant sensation, but a bit of courage.

  He stopped before arched and glowing reddwood doors, ornamented with redgold straps and nails.

  Lifting her hand, he placed it in a depression. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. A frisson of tingling waves washed through her. She was caught close. Cherished. Released.

  Her breath caught in her throat.

  "The Residence Identify has memorized your essence." T'Ash bowed. "Miz Mallow, you are welcome to my home, at any time, whether Bel shines or twinmoons glow. You have only to ask and you can enter."

  This unnerved her more than anything else that had happened. Except for the kiss.

  An odd look of uncertainty passed over his face. "It's ugly."

  "Your Residence is splendid."

  "No, it's ugly. You should be prepared." Once more he held out his large palm. Once more she placed her hand in his.

  Warmth and gentleness enveloped her fingers.

  He opened the door with a Word, glanced down at her. "You'll remember the Word?"

  Her ears still rang with it. How could she forget? "Yes."

  "Good." He drew in a deep breath, then tugged her over the threshold.

  Zanthoxyl awaited them. Danith hadn't seen him enter, but the Residence must be riddled with Fam doors. She was sure the place was built after T'Ash and Zanthoxyl became a Family.

  The thought snagged her attention. A Family. T'Ash and Zanthoxyl were a Family, very small, very close, but indubitably a Family. She had thought T'Ash a loner.

  She shook off the idea. T'Ash and Zanth were only two loners together, that was all.

  T'Ash reached to a row of hooks next to the door and pulled on an ash brown silkeen robe. Long and flowing, it covered his near nudity. Danith regretted the hiding of his body as much as she felt relieved that so much stunning virility was concealed. Her unruly gaze had returned time and again to the hard delineations of his muscles.

  She looked around. T'Ash was right. His Residence was ugly.

  She couldn't imagine living in such a sterile place. All the walls were white and stark. Not a photo, painting, tapestry, or holo hung on a one of them.

  The halls were so empty their footsteps echoed. Danith glanced down at the mellow oak flooring. It should not have sounded as lonely as it did.

  The ResidenceDen, when they reached it, was no better. An octagonal room with warm paneling, the chamber should have been welcoming. It wasn't. The room contained only a desk and chair, and four straight-back chairs of no particular style. Two of the chairs sat in front of th
e desk. The other two were awkwardly placed in two angled corners.

  T'Ash sat down behind the large desk that had seen better days. It needed to be oiled and cared for. Here and there a new chip showed lighter wood; so did the claw marks on one leg.

  She frowned at Zanthoxyl.

  He twitched his whiskers.

  Turning to T'Ash, she said, "You should get Zanthoxyl a post to scratch in here and save the finish on your desk."

  T'Ash looked up, an arrested expression in his eyes. He craned to see the scratches on the desk, then shook his head. "You're right."

  He smiled, slowly, gently, and Danith found her heart beating harder. He turned his gaze to his Fam. "I would never have thought of that. Zanth, what sort of post would you like?"

  Danith rubbed her temples, her ears filled with a drone. When she looked at T'Ash he seemed expectant.

  "Well?" she asked.

  His gaze became no less intent, but he shrugged. "Zanth says he wants a furra hide post with a platform on top. Higher than the desk surface," T'Ash ended dryly.

  Danith chuckled.

  Both T'Ash and Zanth appeared inordinately pleased.

  With a Word, T'Ash summoned a small tray with tea, sweet, and a mug of steaming water onto the edge of his desk near her. "Please, drink. I know you like tea."

  Danith flicked a smile. "No, thank you. I'm too nervous."

  He frowned, with a wave of his hand the items disappeared. He reached down and Danith heard a drawer open, stick, and open farther. It needs some wax on the runners, she thought.

  Reverently T'Ash pulled out an intricately carved case.

  Danith tensed.

  Zanthoxyl sauntered over to her and nudged her hand with his head. With a sigh of relief, she began to pet him, rubbing the thick scars before his flat ears.

  His purr roared in her head.

  The top of the case rose at a spoken Word from T'Ash. An array of egglike stones radiated color and power.

  Danith gasped.

  She had never seen anything so beautiful.

  She had never seen anything so fearsome.

  She believed T'Ash now, at least about the Testing Stones. They would be the best on Celta, because, as he'd said earlier, she did trust the craftsman.

  T'Ash hummed a little lilting folk ditty under his breath. Zanthoxyl purred in rhythm.

  T'Ash touched the eggs, pulled several out, polished them, and repeated a Word. Each time the stone glowed a little brighter, each time his eyes dulled a little.

  Danith stilled. She had always felt there was great Flair inside her, had always wanted to free it and fulfill some yearning in her soul, but since the goal was forever out of reach, so were the consequences. Flair demanded a price, paid in time and learning, energy and strength. Seeing T'Ash today, thinner and wearier, and comparing him to the man she'd seen two nights before, was her first lesson in the cost of Flair.

  Her breath stopped. The next septhour could change her life. Forever.

  A deep gong reverberated throughout the Residence. T'Ash lifted his head, touched a finger to an imaging crystal. In the large projected holo a man paced back and forth before the greeniron gates.

  "Holm Holly," T'Ash murmured, too low to catch the man's attention.

  T'Ash stared at Danith, as if weighing her.

  She stiffened. Had he lied when he'd said she was special to him? Would he be ashamed for her to meet another noble?

  His eyes narrowed.

  The gong boomed again.

  A corner of T'Ash's mouth quirked. "The Hollys don't have a minute of patience amongst them."

  He raised his voice. "Heir of the Hollys, you are welcome."

  The image closed in on Holly's handsome face. One silver-blond brow lifted. "I thank you, GreatLord T'Ash. Entrance, if you please. I wish to speak to you about my commission and my brother," he responded, equally formal.

  T'Ash inclined his head. "Zanth will meet and escort you."

  Now both brows raised. "As you please."

  Pop! Zanthoxyl disappeared, startling Danith. She wondered who had teleported him, or if he'd teleported himself.

  The holo, now shrunk to a few centimeters hovering over the edge of T'Ash's desk, showed both Holly and the Fam.

  "I think, for both our sakes, that we should have a witness to your Testing," T'Ash said.

  Even more tension settled in Danith's shoulders. Continuous quivers ran through her. Her stomach tightened at the thought of Testing again, particularly before such powerful men who were strangers to her.

  The distant clang of a door came, then the sound of a cheerful male voice in conversation and various cat-speakings.

  "Danith," T'Ash said.

  She jerked her gaze from the closed door.

  T'Ash stood, his eyes as intense as ever. "I will introduce Holm to you. You will not offer your hand."

  She stared at T'Ash. Before she could reply, T'Ash uttered the entrance Word and the door opened. Zanthoxyl strutted in and stopped by her chair.

  "T'Ash, Tinne told me—" Holm stopped when he saw her. "Well, well."

  Danith rose.

  Holm made a suave, sweeping bow.

  T'Ash crossed to him and offered his hand. Holm shook it, but when he began to step around T'Ash to greet her, T'Ash blocked him.

  Devilish amusement lit Holly's eyes. Oh, this was a dangerous man, all right, Danith thought. In a completely different way from T'Ash. Still, he might be easier to manage.

  "Miz Mallow, may I present Holm, the Heir to Holly GreatHouse. Holly, Miz Mallow." T'Ash frowned at her, as if making sure she would follow his instructions.

  "Greetyou, HollyHeir. I'm Danith Mallow," she said, tilting her head to see the rangy man behind T'Ash.

  He grinned at her. "Meeting a fair lady first thing in the morning is always a pleasure, and an omen of good luck."

  T'Ash snorted. "I see you peace-bonded your sword and blaser. Too bad you can't do the same with your charm."

  Holly laughed.

  "Miz Mallow is here for Flair Testing. Please witness," T'Ash said.

  Holly bowed again. "Delighted."

  "Take yourself off to a corner chair and try to be inconspicuous. Miz Mallow is nervous."

  She'd forgotten to be, until T'Ash reminded her. She stared at him in annoyance, plopped into her seat, and bit her lip.

  "I, inconspicuous? Impossible. No one—" Holly broke off as his gaze rested on the Testing eggs. "Lord and Lady, T'Ash…" he breathed with awe. "I've never seen such stones. Bless me, the sheer power…" He sent a speculative look at T'Ash. "How much does it cost to Test with those?"

  "More than you can spare. Speak with T'Holly if you wish to arrange an appointment." T'Ash moved back to his desk.

  Danith jumped up. "I can't afford this. I must be going."

  T'Ash glowered at her, and when he spoke, it was in his soft, dangerous voice. "I once told you that I, T'Ash, set the price on my work. And it is not a matter of cost between us, is it, Danith? It is a matter of honor."

  Danith hesitated, then nodded.

  T'Ash smiled, and his eyes lit to silver-blue, and contained the sweetness that had shaken her in their kiss.

  "Ah!" Holly said, the one word laden with realization and satisfaction.

  "Sit," T'Ash said. .

  They both sat, Holly in a chair behind Danith.

  "Now, Danith, relax. Breathe deeply and evenly. We will wait a few moments until you compose yourself."

  Each of her nerve endings seemed to tremble. She didn't think she could relax. Zanthoxyl butted her hand, and she stroked him in the cadence of his ever-louder purrs. Soon she breathed as slowly as the cat under her palm.

  "Good. Very good." T'Ash looked up and smiled at her once again, this time it was so free and easy that it made him look years younger. "Now. Your palm, Miz Mallow."

  Danith put her right hand, palm up, on the desk. He placed his thumb in the hollow and closed his eyes. Once more Danith felt the cycles of his power in a tiny contact. They
rippled through her.

  He raised his lashes and his eyes were more brilliant than ever. He opened his free hand and a clear, smooth crystal egg flew into it. "Close your eyes."

  She wanted to run. She swallowed.

  "You can trust me. I've worked with those of great Flair before. Just last night I tuned a—an object to a young man's vibrations."

  Danith inhaled deeply and closed her eyes. When he fit the stone in her hands, it felt neither hot nor cold, light nor heavy. It was as if she curled her fingers around air.

  The room was completely quiet. She couldn't even hear the sound of Zanthoxyl snuffling or her own breathing.

  "Look, Danith," T'Ash coaxed.

  She opened her eyes. The stone lit the room, casting deep shadows around the furniture. Her fingers clamped over the crystal. Light seeped red from between them.

  She cried out and dropped the egg. It fell to a felt mat.

  T'Ash smiled. Now his gaze showed gentleness. Until he picked up the egg. His eyes went blank and a tremor passed through his large frame. As light faded from the crystal, his skin took on color. A few lines eased from his face. He set the stone carefully in its velvet-lined depression in the box.

  His eyes met hers, bluer than they were before. "Energy. Your energy, Danith. You see with your own eyes that you have great Flair."

  "I witness." Holly's voice rang from behind her. "Max strength was indicated. The Tester will be accepted into the Nobility upon request."

  "No!" cried Danith.

  Zanthoxyl put his forepaws on her knees and made a noise Danith supposed should have been reassuring. It hurt her head.

  "Miz Mallow doesn't seem to have a great opinion of us." Holly sounded amused. "We are a varied class."

  They weren't.

  "Just look at the Fam before you," Holly continued. "Or T'Ash there, born a noble ThirdSon, with power to spare and a Downwind past. Or myself—easy, kind, honorable—"

  "Time for the next phase," T'Ash said. He turned the box to face her, the eggs arranged in a rainbow from black obsidian through deepest purple, blues, greens, yellows, oranges, reds to darkest maroon. Some contained veins and speckles, some glowed with one solid color. "Touch any or all. Pick them up, and focus. They will evidence the type of your psi ability."