HeartMate Page 31

  Danith felt her Flair, guided it, and mastered it. It throbbed through her body as necessary now as her blood. As pervasive as life itself. She loved the current of it, reveled in it as she had so long wanted to do. She learned the basics quickly.

  Mentally weary and with some of her strength drained in the use of Flair, she still skipped into her home and ate a large dinner. T'Ash showed up as evening was turning into night.

  "I want you to come to a FirstFamilies conference. You are expected."

  "No."

  He stomped a circuit through the kitchen, the tiny dining room attached to the mainspace, the mainspace itself, and back. "This is important to me. We deal with Downwind matters, what must be done, how to craft a ritual that will mitigate the tension and ill-feeling."

  "I know it's important to you, and I thank you for inviting me, but I'm not comfortable with them—"

  "You think I am?"

  "I think you're one of them. You always were and always will be. And you know what must be done. The area of Downwind itself must be rehabilitated, so boys don't live in holes."

  His face froze.

  "T'Ash, can't you tell me of that time? Of the doors you keep shut on your memories?"

  "No."

  Danith wet her lips. His eyes sparked, but he made no move to her.

  "Aren't we close enough?" she asked.

  His jaw set and the blue blaze of his eyes intensified. "I want to be closer. I want the HeartBond—"

  "I'm not even accustomed to you as a lover, let alone a HeartMate." She feared total surrender.

  "How long do you need?" It was a challenge more than a sensitive question.

  "I don't know."

  He didn't say she was cowardly, but she only had to look in his eyes to see that he thought it.

  He turned on his heel and went into the mainspace, where there was enough space to teleport in and out. "I'll be back late."

  She didn't tell him not to come; her heart thudded hard at the thought that he might not come back to her. "Inform the Nobles they need to spend some gilt as well as craft spells," Danith called.

  "You tell them. You tell GrandHouses. You will be summoned to their Council, soon enough." He left with a bang.

  Zanth growled, startling Danith. He and Princess lay on opposite ends of her settee.

  Downwind fine. Holes good places. Good hunting.

  She stared at the cat, opened her mouth to argue, and knew she'd never be able to change his mind. "You're looking thinner."

  Zanth preened. Many 'roons dead. Many guards have new boots. He narrowed his eyes. Chef at Res-i-dence made cocoa mousse. In no-time place.

  "I don't know how to access the no-time."

  Zanth subsided into fake sleep.

  Danith shoved more gifts of furniture to line her walls and thought about storage, trying not to think about T'Ash, to no avail.

  He was an ideal lover, his hands slow and gentle and caring, his lips firm and demanding, his body hard and delightful against hers. She shivered in remembrance.

  During lovemaking, their needs had spurred the melding of thoughts. More and more their loving consisted of unspoken needs flowing from one to the other, being silently fulfilled by each, escalating into mind-numbing ecstasy. Every time they made love was better than the last. Again she shivered.

  She still didn't know what to do. The man thought she could instantly adapt to her new life. No doubt he believed he'd acclimated to Downwind in the same amount of time. The poor boy. The poor boy, Rand, who still lived within T'Ash and would not let her near.

  He'd shut that fragment of himself off, never to be exposed to anyone, never to be integrated into the GreatLord T'Ash. His Downwind years were to be ignored. His real life had started with his second Passage and the advent of Holm Holly.

  Danith firmed her lips. At least she was trying to blend her old life with her new. She was trying to keep her closest friends and the Clovers in her life, trying to make new friends who wouldn't judge her just by her new rank.

  The thought led her to action. She'd accept a dessert-party invitation with Mitchella over at Pink's. Despite the publicity of her nobility, she stubbornly refused to let the Clovers put any distance between themselves and her. Yet Danith felt the Clovers were only biding their time, waiting to see if she became D'Ash to completely sever the connection.

  Her Flair already separated them enough. She set her shoulders. She was determined that she would not lose the Clovers.

  T'Ash was another one who bided his time. He didn't like the Clovers. She'd returned Claif's ring, but T'Ash hadn't been satisfied. He stuck by his idea that she needed no one but him in her life.

  She did need him. And she needed him to need her, sensed that his desire for her went beyond passion, but that, too. he never said. He had an idea that he could outwait her, wear her down, that eventually she would give in to all his demands.

  Danith didn't think she could afford to.

  T'Ash stood in the shadows near Danith's house. She should move into his Residence. Lower St. Johnswort Street was too unsafe.

  She walked slowly, tired from her first day using and mastering her Flair, yet still with grace and a cheerfulness in her movements. His heart contracted. After every moment they spent apart, he realized his deep need for her.

  A worry had begun to nag him, a feeling that she was progressing well into her new life, striding confidently down a road—and leaving him behind. She was managing to weld her past and her future together into a strong whole, while he was beginning to realize that he'd ignored his past. He'd put it far behind him, refusing to acknowledge any strengths his Downwind boyhood had given him, trying to forget that part of his life.

  Did this make her stronger than he? He thought it might. It certainly added to the weight of the evidence that he did not deserve a woman like her.

  T'Ash froze. He lifted his head, scenting the tang of twisted Flair. Another lurked in the shadows, glided after Danith. The stalker waited for her to leave the strong and protective light of the nightpoles and turn up her own path. It was the last teenager of the triad.

  He was close and unshielded. T'Ash hit instantly and hard, spearing mental pain to the gangmember. The young man collapsed without a sound.

  T'Ash scanned the golden web of protection he had once again spun around Danith and fed it power.

  On her front porch Danith stopped and shivered. "T'Ash?" she called softly.

  He gritted his teeth. He wanted her. He wanted to HeartBond with her. She smelled of the Clovers. "Here," he said.

  He heard her sigh, then the soft opening Word for her door. Princess stepped out onto the porch and mewed. The cat looked in his direction and mewed again.

  "We should talk, we have much to discuss and decide. But I'm too tired tonight. Come to bed, T'Ash," Danith said.

  The fallen boy vanished from T'Ash's perception, teleported unsteadily away by his triad-twin who lay in the HealingHall.

  T'Ash sighed, too. "I'm coming." His weariness matched her own. He'd fought long and hard at the Council meeting, this time with words and images and dire warnings. And he'd won.

  If there would be no HeartBond with Danith tonight, at least she wouldn't ask him to reveal his past or his deepest self, not in words or in emotions. They would love. Then they would sleep.

  The next day, Danith's second day of apprenticeship, she Healed a dying housefluff, a genetic hybrid of an Earth rabbit and a Celtan mochyn.

  She laid her hands on it and could feel the waning life-force, the rip deep in its body. With gentle fingers, she stroked its soft fur and visualized her Flair as hands, finding the ruptured organ and mending it. Even through her concentration, she smiled. This spell was close to the first welding one that T'Ash had taught her, but refined now, completely personal and Healing. The use of her Flair, especially for others, was her highest good and her greatest joy.

  The housefluff jerked, trembled, opened its eyes, and rolled to its feet. After a pink-nosed snuffle
to Danith's fingers, it hopped away to where a little girl anxiously sat on a bench.

  She crowed delight and picked up the animal in her arms, dancing through the arch of the courtyard into a grassy meadow beyond.

  A mid-aged GraceLady followed the scene with a teary gaze, then touched Danith on the arm. "We cannot thank you enough, GrandLady D'Mallow. The veterinarians, the Healers—They had no hope. And it's a precious life to the Family."

  Danith thrilled. "My pleasure."

  Her teacher, a Heather Healer, looked startled, then shook her gray head. "It is incredible how fast you learn." Her face folded into pensive lines. "As with all great Flairs, you must sense the correct way of using your power instinctively, and only need some practical knowledge. Good. Very good."

  Exultation filled Danith. She'd freed her Flair and directed it as her inner self had always wanted. The whole process resonated with inherent lightness.

  She had to tell someone, and the only one who would understand would be T'Ash. Her two-day-old great-Flaired friends were too new, and her old Flairless friends wouldn't understand. That left only T'Ash. And she'd encourage him to tell of his own experiences, try and lure the child Rand from the formidable GreatLord. She would learn all of him, soon.

  She used some of her exuberance 'porting to T'Ash's Residence, where she found him deep in discussion with Holm Holly via scry holo.

  He glanced up at her arrival, a brief smile touched his mouth, then disappeared as his gaze returned to the holo of Holm Holly. "I will scout locations and set up a fund for the buildings and staffing. I expect the other Noble Houses to participate, if not in my project, then in others. Wheat, Rye, and Silkeen should take care of the docks. Perhaps—"

  "I understand, and I'll make sure they hear of your contribution. With effort, in a few years, there will be no Downwind," said Holly.

  T'Ash laughed harshly. "There may be no Downwind in Druida, but other cities—"

  "We will try our best!"

  "There will always be outlaws, people who don't fit in." His gaze slid to her. Did he still feel like an outsider? Even transacting the highest level of business with HollyHeir? Incredible.

  She blew him a kiss.

  His eyes rounded as he stared at her.

  Holm continued. "The misfits can explore the frontier, civilize it, carve out their own cities, disappear. I don't care. My concern is for the citizens of—"

  "My Lady's here. I go. Merry meet."

  Holm's holo looked around but didn't appear to see her. He sighed. "Merry part."

  "And merry meet again," T'Ash replied.

  "You're doing a fine thing—"

  "Fare well." T'Ash cut the call and stood behind a new, polished reddwood desk that matched a large cat platform against the wall. The platform had areas of furra hide that showed signs of sharp claws.

  "You're here," T'Ash said. He looked at her and all thoughts of the wonderful, hopeful things he had set in motion, all the flush of joy she'd had in her day, transformed into intense female awareness.

  His eyes dilated so only a startling, dark rim of blue showed in his saturnine face. Her heart pounded as his glance stopped on her eyes, then moved to her breasts. The flush of desire she felt creeping up her was mirrored in the increased color over his cheekbones.

  Without speaking a word, he readied her for his touch, for the possession of his body. She swayed forward without volition, giving way to temptation. A yearning ache started low and she could hear the raggedness of her breathing.

  His chest rose and fell rapidly. Slowly he walked to her, so slowly the heat spiraling within her felt as if it would melt her very bones.

  He touched her.

  Chapter Seventeen

  « ^ »

  T'Ash's fingers brushed against her cheek.

  She threw herself into his arms, then stood on tiptoes to nibble tiny kisses on his lips. The hot, smoky scent of him sparked her passion. "Mmmm." T'Ash lifted Danith against his body. His lips persuaded her mouth to open. He took it and drank like a man dying of thirst. Her mind reeled and she sank into blazing sensuality.

  Their tongues mated and his hips began to rock against her. He sat her on the edge of his desk and stepped between her legs. Though she wore trous, she was open to him, and his thick, hard shaft drew moistness from her core as her passion rose. She twined her arms around his neck, tilting her bottom until the cloth separating them maddened her.

  His large hands pushed down her trous and underwear, he freed himself.

  He plunged his velvet, steely length into her.

  Her neck couldn't support her head. It fell back. She whimpered with rising desire. "I need you," she panted.

  "Yes." His reply was guttural. The skin on his face pulled taut. He buried a hand in her hair and supported her head so that their gazes matched. "Look at me."

  Feelings trembled from him to her. His passion raged at the edges of control, but the tightness of her was something he craved. He would not move until his control broke.

  She moaned; she wanted his deep, hard stroking. She didn't think she could stand this waiting he demanded. She sent visions to him of her need for fast, intense mating. "Move," she pleaded.

  His body shivered, but he didn't yield. He remained solid and quiet inside her, growing with every pulse. With every breath she issued a little moan, the spiraling tension was unbearable. "Move!"

  His eyes blazed into hers, then narrowed. "Soon."

  She felt the tsunami threaten, but not soon enough. She raised her legs and clamped them behind his waist, forcing him deeper into her than he'd ever been.

  The pupils of his eyes widened until only a tiny bit of blue remained. They breathed unevenly together.

  "You know how I feel," he said.

  She managed a nod.

  "You know how you feel around me."

  She whimpered again.

  "Want you. Crave you. Need you!" he cried out, then pounded into her.

  She climaxed at his first thrust, screamed.

  Waves rolled over her, each more forceful than before at his plunging body. And he saw it in her eyes, felt everything.

  He lunged, his seed spurted deep inside her. And she felt his shattering pleasure, saw it in his unfocused gaze.

  She fell backward to the desk. His big body covered hers.

  It felt awkward, wonderful. She finally escaped his stare, but was too dazed to hide anything from him. Surely he could see love in her eyes, feel it in their bond, know that with him inside her she could refuse him nothing.

  But moments passed and T'Ash did not take advantage of her weakness. Their breathing steadied. He inhaled deeply and Danith knew he was savoring her scent. She trembled.

  "You are here, in T'Ash Residence." His voice held satisfaction.

  She couldn't deny it.

  "But our first time here should have been slowly, in my bed."

  She cleared her throat. "This time was slow enough. I didn't think I could bear the tension."

  He chuckled and nuzzled her neck, swiped his tongue across it, tasting her. She returned the favor. His taste went straight to her core, she tightened around him.

  His hips arched into her, he groaned. "This is not sex. Since we aren't HeartBound, I don't know what it is. I've never felt it before."

  She wanted to knock some sense into his head. Love. This was love, and he didn't recognize it.

  He didn't recognize it. How long had it been since he'd felt any loving arms around him? She knew the answer—since he was six. Was Rand finally coming out from hiding, letting her love him? And how long was this going to take, to learn him, to love him, to let GreatLord T'Ash know she would never hurt Rand?

  A timer struck the hour. The whispery Residence voice spoke. "You have an appointment at the AllClass HealingHall in twenty minutes."

  Danith put her hands on his face, made him look at her. His eyes looked bluer than ever, and defenseless. "You're going to visit the HealingHall." She couldn't suppress a grin. She'd nagged
at him to see the boys whose Healing he paid for, hoping that through them, he could accept the young Downwind man he had once been.

  "Yes." Vulnerability sat oddly on his strong features. She kissed his eyelids, his cheeks, brushed her mouth against his, sent him the upsurge of tenderness that swelled her heart.

  A tremor passed through him, and he gently eased himself away from her. "Cloth!" he said. An instant later a soft linen cloth appeared in his hands.

  He closed his eyes, evened his breathing. When he opened them again, he fixed his gaze on her. "Water from the HouseHeart."

  Danith blinked.

  A small rattle came from beside her, and she saw a ritual iron cauldron full of water. The fragrance of deep earth, hot smoke, a trace of jasmine, rose from the water. She shivered as the scent made its way through her lungs into her blood and her very bones. It was the scent of the T'Ash Residence, and even comprised part of the scent of T'Ash himself.

  T'Ash dipped the cloth in the water and washed himself, then straightened his clothes. They were ordinary trous and shirt in ash brown, nothing that would proclaim him a noble, neither his ankle or sleeve cuffs showed his status.

  He swished the cloth in water again and pressed the cool, wet linen against her, stroking her gently to clean her.

  Danith blinked, felt embarrassment tint her cheeks red. "We are using blessed water for washing? HouseHeart water?" Her mind boggled.

  T'Ash met her eyes, his expression serious. "To wash T'Ash and his woman the first time they mated in the Residence. It is an event."

  Danith blinked again. Before she could speak, he'd sent the cauldron and the cloth to the HouseHeart.

  She pushed herself off the desk, taking some papyrus with her. When she picked them up off the Chinju rug, she saw they were architectural plans for several buildings, with a phoenix standard above the door.

  "What's this? The project you were talking to HollyHeir about?"

  T'Ash stepped close and efficiently smoothed her clothing down her. It didn't keep her from leaning into his touch. His mouth quirked and then the slight smile disappeared.