Guardian of Honor Page 20

  She knew the shattering neared when the crystals appeared, drawing together to make a bright star.

  Music started again. Her song? Was the other his? They twined together in a melody, strengthening as the crystals flowed to each other.

  They touched.

  Fireworks burst inside her, were her.

  Her cry mingled with Bastien's.

  He collapsed on her and she welcomed his weight, a sign of earthly reality in a fiery universe.

  This time the star that was two crystals lingered.

  There was a dark streak along one of the star points. It offended her. Didn't belong amidst all the lovely wonder.

  She sent a lightning bolt of her jade magic to the point, splintering it. In the next instant, she grabbed crystal shards and reassembled them into new, bright angles.

  Bastien jerked and howled, clutched his chest.

  Alexa sat up, watching, horrified, but it was too late. She hadn't thought that she'd hurt him. She'd just seen a flaw and fixed it.

  A flaw. The flaw he was born with as a black-and-white? Surely not. It wasn't that difficult to correct, so someone should have done it a long time ago.

  She shouldn't have repaired it. She had no right to mess with a person's magic. She just hadn't realized—She leaned over Bastien and stroked his bare chest, glistening with sweat that highlighted his scars.

  "Are you all right?"

  He grimaced, then smiled, stretched his arms and legs. "A pang is all, darlin.' I have them now and then." Picking up her fingers that played with his chest hair, he kissed her hand. "Don't usually have such frissons with a lady, though. Please accept my deepest apologies." Even in the dim dawn light, the red of embarrassment touched his cheeks.

  Frissons. A Lladranan word she didn't know.

  His smile froze, he glanced away. "I am a black-and-white, after all," he mocked himself gently.

  Alexa didn't like that he put himself down. The frisson-thing must be something that manifested in "flawed" people. She bent down and brushed his lips with hers, softly, softly, tasted his mouth with her tongue and hummed approval. Then she leaned back to observe him again. This time she combed his wonderful hair with her fingers. The black strands had a different texture than the silver, and the contrast was as pleasing to the touch as it was to the eye. "You are verr-y beau-ti-ful, black-and-white," she murmured. His chest hair was varicolored too.

  His body relaxed under the covers—at least most of it did. She saw one muscle that was raring to go. Since she didn't want to discuss anything, or admit her tampering, she let him draw her mouth to his for another kiss.

  "And I suspect you're still drunk, darlin'," he whispered just before their lips met and rubbed and explored.

  This was much better than any explanations. She'd deal with any complications of sleeping with Bastien later. Way later.

  She woke again and knew not much time had passed. Bastien still slept, so she studied him. So sweet and sexy. The sex had been fabulous, and the intimacy had filled her lonely heart. Most of all, they'd given and received equally. He'd been honest and hadn't wanted anything but a little loving. She sighed.

  Time to face reality. Holding and kissing and sex and intimacy was for the one night. No matter what sort of connection she'd felt, it wouldn't last. The simplicity of being with him would be fleeting. Real life would intrude.

  She should just take the gift of the night and leave. But she lingered. She liked how he looked, roughly handsome, not as elegant and classy as his brother Luthan. His cool hair, silver and black and tantalizing to the fingers. Incredible body, though scarred, strong, muscular, damn good on top and inside hers.

  Wincing at the thought of the scars and how much pain he'd endured, she flopped onto her back and stared at the beams of the stable. This guy was a real hero. He'd fought and probably felt the bowel-watering fear and still fought some more. She didn't know how he did it. Frankly, she didn't want to learn.

  She'd like him in her life, but quashed the thought. She'd always considered a relationship a partnership and had tried a couple on, but they hadn't lasted. Her best relationship—business partnership and deep friendship—had been with Sophie.

  At the thought of Sophie, she sat up and put her head on her knees. It was easier to recall Sophie, and all the fun they'd had together, here in Lladrana, than if she were back in Colorado where everything would remind her.

  Heaven knows what people thought had happened to her. Though she'd left the business in as good shape as she could have, that wasn't saying much, since half the partnership was gone. She shoved those issues aside. Nothing she could do about them.

  Nicer to stare at Bastien and remember the night. They'd been great together. Maybe, just maybe, it could carry over to the light of day. A partnership would be good, and perhaps easier in Lladrana. Partis and Thealia had a great intimate partnership, as did the other Marshalls who were married. Some Chevaliers were the same.

  She found she was needy, more needy than was wise. But she'd been alone so long, with everything and everyone very strange in this new world. Having as her closest companion a tiny pink fairy or a shape-shifting muff was more than a little odd. Was it too much to hope that maybe, just maybe, the intimacy with this man could last?

  He snuffled beside her, drawing her attention. Even sleeping he looked like Trouble—rough and dangerously attractive. It would be better if she locked away her odd yearnings. The upset he could cause in her life, just when she thought she was coping well and had found a place she finally fit in, could be more than the great sex and whatever "bond" they had between them was worth.

  But she wanted him. She set her teeth. This indecision wasn't like her. This emotional dependency. It may have been all too human to want a lover by your side, and she could understand her need, but it wasn't wise.

  And there was the sweet Song rippling between them, meaning a bond had been formed, no matter how small.

  What was that bond? Could it happen between a lot of people, or just a few? She knew it didn't have to be sexual, though she could understand why that would be a strong bond. Reynardus's Shield was his brother—this man's uncle—she realized. She hadn't asked the Marshalls or Sinafin or her teachers about the bond or bonds between Sword and Shield or lovers, so she only had herself to blame for being ignorant.

  "You're looking too thoughtful after a night of extraordinary sex," Bastien said, smiling.

  She glanced down to see him studying her.

  He stretched, his left arm extending from the blankets and wrapping around her. He pulled her back down to settle next to him. She had to admit the rumor was right. He had a great way with women.

  Alexa stroked his face. "Shalutationsh, Bastien." His face went completely still. His eyes widened, narrowed. "You're the new Exotique Marshall." It was her turn to freeze.

  15

  “You are the Exotique the Marshalls Summoned, aren't you." Bastien jumped from the hay and started dressing. "You must have a Jade Baton about you somewhere."

  "How do you know?"

  "I can see you now."

  She flinched. "Of course." She kept all intonation from her voice. Racial prejudice again.

  His gaze sharpened. "I didn't mean it that way."

  Alexa shrugged and stood shakily. She picked up her ripped dress, hunted for her underwear.

  The man cursed. "Everyone knows of the new Exotique, and my brother kept me apprised of events."

  "The very honorable Luthan," she said. "Bastien who is Trouble."

  His lopsided smile was completely charming.

  Finished dressing, he swept her a graceful bow. "That's me."

  "The rebel." She eyed his hair again. "You use the stories about black-and-whites to your own advantage."

  He raised an eyebrow. "Of course."

  Alexa blinked. She understood every word he said, every inflection of his voice, every nuance. Further, her tongue now mastered the language better. It was still difficult and imperfect, but she could
now speak and be understood. It must be from the link during their lovemaking. No wonder the Marshalls had wanted her in bed with someone that first night. When minds and powers connected during sex, some qualities were transferred. She wondered what Bastien had got.

  "I speak better now."

  It was the wrong thing to say. He stared down at her. "Merde, the Marshalls set this up, didn't they. And you were oh-so-willing. I should have guessed, but my magic is wild, it fluctuates. Sorry, the plan won't work."

  Her spine stiffened. She enunciated each word. "I did not seduce you. I did not even know you were here."

  His eyes narrowed. "Didn't you?" His lip curled. "You were a very convenient damsel in distress last night."

  She recalled the spider web—how natural was it? Shook her head, it wasn't important in this discussion. She lifted her chin. "I did not plan this."

  He raised his eyebrows. "Then the Marshalls did. They used us both. And they'd continue to use me if I hung around. I won't do that. Nothing will make me stay. When you Pairbond with someone, he will be your Sword or Shield. Fight with you and the Marshalls. You come with too many complications, Lady."

  Just what she'd felt about him, but she'd been willing to take a chance. Now he was rejecting her.

  So much for any intimacy, for any pitiful bond she'd felt. All illusion. Story of her life. Anger, hot then cold, swept her. "I would not dream of keeping you."

  "Good." His scan of her was long and penetrating. "I can't believe I didn't know it was you. Maybe I didn't want to. Maybe there was a befuddling spell?"

  "I don't know such a spell," Alexa said through gritted teeth.

  He shrugged. "Doesn't matter, this stupidity won't go any further."

  Humiliation and anger bubbled through her. She'd never had a one-night stand. She'd never had someone leave her so fast. True rejection.

  He slid down the ladder and led his volaran out of its stall. With a quick tuneful whistle it was saddled.

  Alexa crawled to the edge of the loft and peered down at him. "Thanks for the fu—" She got the correct, derogatory word from his mind but just couldn't say it. She'd thought it had been more than sex. He'd been tender, charming. She had thought they'd shared real intimacy. She licked her lips and substituted another word. "Thanks for the sex. It helped me immensely." Her clenched fists were out of sight.

  He turned back and looked nearly as angry as she did. The slant of sunlight coming through the half-opened door lit the silver in his hair, creating a blazing white aura.

  Bastien bowed low with a sweep of his ugly hat. Though she didn't know all the nuances of bows, she was sure he scoffed.

  "My pleasure, Lady Marshall."

  Then he and his prime volaran disappeared from view.

  She hurt, and wondered how in heaven she had gotten emotionally tangled up with him in just one night. Maybe it wasn't just last night. Maybe it had started even earlier...the night she saved him. A lot of people believed that saving another's life formed a bond. She remembered doing the deed, but it didn't seem that hedid. He'd been out of it that night, so it wasn't surprising. Nothing in the land of Lladrana would drag the fact that she'd saved his hide out of her. She couldn't bear that he might feel a burden and look at her with forced gratitude.

  But that wasn't the problem. The problem was that she felt something for him—some emotion that she didn't want to scrutinize. Felt a bond to him, more than to anyone else on Lladrana, even Sinafin—and just from sex. That was scary. What sort of hold on her could he have through sex if he pursued this affair? A good thing that he wanted to walk away—okay, face facts, he was running away as fast as he could, flying away. Could he have used magic on her? Since a black-and-white was supposed to have strange energies, maybe he had bewitched her without meaning to. Not good for her.

  Good that he was flying away home—Shit! His home was next to hers. She muttered a few more Anglo-Saxon words at this turn of events, then remembered he spent little time at his estate and more in the battlefield. She didn't think he'd be knocking on her door to borrow anything, and she certainly wasn't going to traipse over to his place.

  Time to shove the emotions aside and skate on a flippant surface, concentrate on shallow thoughts. She looked disgustedly at the dress he'd torn off her. She had her breast-strip, and the panties she'd insisted on having made, but she couldn't see slinking into the inn clothed only in underwear and a cloak. Besides, she had liked the dress a lot. It was very comfortable and a bright blue that flattered her very pale coloring.

  She chewed her bottom lip and tried to recall a mending spell. It was really a healing spell to be used on rent flesh, but it should work on cloth too.

  She started humming, remembered the three-note memory key to prompt the spell. Then the whole tune came. With a tip of herfinger shooting jade energy, she ran it down the rip and watched in great satisfaction as the fabric rewove itself. It only took a minute, and such a small amount of energy, that she'd recharge it just by walking back to the inn, drawing on earth energy.

  It still amazed her that she could tap into energy from the natural elements—earth, fire, water, even air sometimes, though that was the hardest for her. There were a lot of cool things about magic and Lladrana—including acceptable plumbing. Right now she really needed a shower.

  She dressed quickly, descended the ladder. Volarans peeked over a couple of stalls and whickered. She greeted them, then left the stables to step into another gray day. Except for a couple of vacations, she'd always lived in Denver, where the sun shone an average of three hundred days a year. This gray weather wore on her nerves. But at least it wasn't raining.

  When she reached her room, Sinafin sat in the middle of Alexa's bed, a big, fat, white Persian cat. Sinafin grinned, a grin all the more irritating because it was cat-smug.

  Have a good night? Sinafin purred.

  "It was a great night. This morning hasn't been so hot." Alexa stripped and ducked into the small corner bathroom, which held a shower cubicle. Turning the water on hot and hard, she decided to spare her vocal cords and communicate mentally with Sinafin. I told you I don't like it when you become Mrs. Morris's cat.

  That cat had been the bane of her existence when she'd been fostered by Mrs. Morris. Arguments about the cat had led to Mrs. Morris passing Alexa on to someone else. Just as well. Mrs. Morris had treated the cat better than any child she'd ever fostered—at least she'd given it more affection.

  I felt like a cat this morning, Sinafin said.

  Great. Dumped by a one-night stand most gracelessly, and now stuck with a snotty cat. Where are the others?

  I told them you were sleeping in. They are shopping for supplies in the city.

  Relief fluttered through Alexa. At least her humiliation wouldn't be public. The water streaming over her refreshed her, cleansing her of the sweat of man and sex. Good.

  Where is Bastien? Sinafin asked, purring again.

  Alexa snapped the faucets off, grabbed a towel to scrub her body so only her own scent rose to her nostrils. She tromped into the bedroom. Sinafin was lying on her back in the middle of the bed, front paws curled over a fat stomach, back paws sticking straight up, looking at Alexa upside down. Sinafin did cat very well.

  "How did you know about Bastien?" Stupid question—Sinafin knew everything. Alexa recalled Bastien's words. "Did you use a befuddling spell?"

  The cat didn't reply. Jeez, she really hated when Sinafin was a cat.

  Alexa asked, "Did you cast a spell on us to make love?"

  Sinafin purred. No. / would not flout your free will.

  "Huh. Bastien's gone, taken off into the blue."

  That got action. Sinafin rolled to a crouch, whipped her tail back and forth, growled. She stared at Alexa, then her whiskers twitched and her big blue eyes narrowed. You corrected his energy stream. He will be very powerful now.

  "Good for him." Alexa dug out her brush, went to a mirror and pulled it through the tangles of her hair.

  He is good for yo
u too.

  "The operative word here is was. Past tense." God, she was glad she could talk to Sinafin and use a large vocabulary, not halting, short words in Lladranan. "We had great sex. He was a wonderful lover. He was a...jerk this morning. He couldn't get away from me fast enough." That sounded like a whine. She would not whine over a man, especially a man she'd known so briefly.

  Everything about him was past tense. She had to get a grip. One night of hot sex and adieus shouldn't wind her up like this, even if she'd never before had a one-nighter.

  Sinafin leaped off the bed to cross over to a chest under the bay window, craning her head to look outside. He is gone.

  "Told you so." Now that felt good. Telling off Mrs. Morris's cat and having the damn thing know what Alexa meant. Alexa pulled from her bag her "longies," the shirt and tights worn under chain mail, and put them on.

  The cat turned back to her, stared at Alexa, then back out the window. There is a melody spinning between you.

  Alexa shrugged. She didn't think so.

  He will be back.

  Alexa snorted. "See if I care." But she'd decided. "I'm tired of traveling. It's time we return to the Castle." She was ready to study hard, fight hard, win her place in this world, prove to everyone, including a sweet-loving, hardheaded man, that she was the best Exotique ever Summoned.

  Joan of Arc step aside, Alexa had hit town.

  She trained and studied determinedly. When the alarm that called the Castle to arms clanged, she took the Field on horseback—four times the first week. She worked with a Sword and Shield team as an extra Shield, learning all the defensive tricks. Oddly enough, working with Mace and his lady was the easiest on everyone. Unsurprisingly, Reynardus refused to link with her.

  Alexa also Paired with various Chevaliers. She and Luthan were a competent but uninspired team. She thought she'd have trouble connecting mentally with the man—son of Reynardus and brother to Bastien—but the bond was smooth and comfortable.

  After the battles, Alexa walked the land and examined the fenceposts—those fallen and dead and those still pulsing with vitality. The inert ones were interesting to look at, but told her nothing. When she touched the live ones, there was something about them that she almost recognized, like an answer to a test question lurking in the back of her brain. And like such an answer, it couldn't be forced.