Mystic Flame (Beyond Ontariese 4) (2 page)

He pressed his lips against her, sinking his
tongue deep. She gritted her teeth and whimpered, sensations
welling up inside her. His warm hands on her thighs, his intimate
kiss, his gaze burned into hers. It was all more than she could
take. She cried out sharply and came in hard, shuddering waves.

Prolonging the distinct spasms with his
clever tongue, Evan dragged every last tingle from her body before
he raised his head. “Turn over.”

Lethargic and replete from the shattering
orgasm, she didn’t move fast enough. He flipped her over onto her
stomach then pulled her hips up until she understood what he
wanted. She folded her legs beneath her, resting on her knees. He
nudged her thighs apart and entered her in one forceful drive.

She cried out, surprised by his sudden
aggression and the stunning fullness of his thick length filling
her. He reached around and found her swollen clit, pairing each
deep thrust with a circular motion until she was gasping and
rocking to meet him.

“Mine.” He growled the word against her
hair, his hands firm on her hips. “Say it,
nephri
. Say
you’re mine.”

Her body squeezed him greedily as he thrust
into her. The intensity built. Her heart pounded against her
ribs.

“Say it!” He increased his speed and force
until she cried out with each demanding penetration.

“I’m—yours.” A pulse of scalding pleasure
like a Mystic flame burst from him and she screamed. He buried
himself to the hilt, his arm wrapped around her hips. Wave after
wave crashed over them, sweeping them beyond the ship, beyond the
danger, beyond reality.

They clung to each other. Their harsh gasps
the only sound. Wrapping her tight in his arms, he rolled them to
their sides, his body still lodged deep inside hers. He pressed
kisses against her neck and shoulder, one of his hands cupping her
breast.

“What does
nephri
mean?” she
whispered.

“It’s an ancient Mystic term.” His warm
breath teased her ear. “It means beloved.”

Mist rolled across the rutted path and Dro
Tar squinted into the darkness. A soft keening drew her attention
to the castle looming in the distance. She inhaled deeply, savoring
the fresh scent of pine and the complexity of smoke and roasting
meat. A cool gust made her shiver as clouds obscured the moon.

A well-muscled arm encircled her waist,
trapping her hands at her sides. She struggled. Her captor
tightened his grip, pressing against her back. Heat sank through
her clothing and his scent, an intoxicating combination of leather,
exotic spices and musk enveloped her. She sighed, relaxing in his
embrace. He gathered her hair away from the nape of her neck and
pressed his mouth to her sensitive skin. Warmth, pressure,
moisture, his kiss held the perfect combination of each. He scraped
his teeth over her flesh and cupped her breast.

“Did you honestly think you could elude me
so easily?” A faint accent colored his words, but his tone was thin
and nasal.

“Pause program.” She wiggled out of the
vampire’s embrace and crossed her arms over her chest. His
appearance was perfect. Midnight-black hair with just a hint of
curl, broad chest, narrow hips and long-fingered hands. Light
flashed on in the adjacent room, allowing her to see her business
partner. Grat Farlay stood at the control panel, clearly frustrated
by yet another delay. “So shoot me.” She motioned toward the
vampire. “His voice is still wrong. It needs to be deeper. Vampires
can seduce with a word, curl a woman’s toes by whispering her name.
John here needs a decongestant.”

“Deeper is a bit too vague,” Grat muttered.
“Tone, pitch, inflection, cadence. Where do I begin? I need an
audio sample, a starting point.”

“End simulation.” The holographic projection
dissolved, leaving her in a bare room with the robot she’d named
John Doe. “Go charge up. We’ll play some more later.” John moved to
the far corner of the simulation booth and backed against the wall,
engaging his charger prongs. Dro Tar left the sim-chamber and
joined Grat at the control console. “The atmosphere is perfect.
We’re stimulating all five senses. John’s AI integration has never
been more convincing, but that voice has to go.”

“I’ll move on to the bedroom sequence and
you go find me a voice.”

She nodded and crossed the lab, her mind
rushing on ahead. Sam Elliot had the rich depth she craved, but how
would Grat filter out that drawl? Taking the corridor to the left,
she headed for the tiny office in the back of their ramshackle
building. Sean Connery wasn’t much better. Who ever heard of a
Scottish vampire?

“Hello, Ms. Nex.” The deep male voice came
from directly behind her and tingles danced down her spine. “You
were surprisingly hard to find.”

She recognized Trey dar Aune with the second
sentence, but for just a moment she was back in the simulation
booth. “Say it again.” She didn’t turn around.

“You were hard as hell to find?”

“No, the first part and say it in that
hushed, sort of growly tone.”

He chuckled. “Hello, Ms. Nex. As adorable as
you are, you know I’m happily married.”

“Yes. Oh gods, yes!” She swung around and
grabbed his wrist, ignoring his startled expression. Dragging her
former commander behind her, she headed back to the lab. “I found
him, Grat. Oh boy, did I find him.” She pushed Trey toward the
console and activated audio record. “Say it exactly like you did in
the corridor.”

“What the hell is this about?”

“Just do it.” She gave him another little
shove.

“Hello, Ms. Nex. You have clearly lost your
mind.”

“Trey,” she cried. “We really need a voice
clip to use in this simulation. Just cooperate for once in your
life.”

His eyebrows shot up and he looked from Dro
Tar to Grat and back. “What are you simulating?”

“Vampire adventures.” Trey had never been
one to jump in blindly, so she rattled off a quick explanation.
“We’re creating entertainment simulations. Clients will be able to
hunt vampires or be a vampire or be seduced by a vampire. We need
your voice for the latter. So think of Krysta and give us a damn
voice clip.”

“What do you want me to say?” Annoyance
deepened his tone. She quickly called up the first few lines of the
simulation and pointed to the vidscreen inset in the control panel.
Trey rolled his eyes but recited the lines. “Did you honestly think
you could elude me so easily?” He paused. “Your scent is
intoxicating. Your skin is like silk. I hunger for the sweetness of
your nectar. I must know your taste.” He burst out laughing and
stepped away from the controls. “You have got to be kidding. No one
will make it through that rubbish with a straight face.”

“It’s a bit melodramatic, but you have to be
surrounded by the simulation and in the arms of the vampire before
it makes sense.”

“Whatever you say.” He crossed his arms over
his brawny chest, amusement glistening in his amber eyes. His hair,
an unusual mixture of vivid colors, always made Dro Tar think of
autumn leaves.

“Was there some reason you came looking for
me?” she asked.

He glanced at Grat. “I need to borrow her
for a bit.”

“We’re pretty busy,” Dro Tar said before
Grat could speak. “Is this important?” Trey wouldn’t be here if it
weren’t, but Grat needed to think she’d at least attempted to
resist.

“It’s very important and as usual you’re
uniquely qualified for the—adventure.” His lips quirked but he
didn’t quite smile.

She followed Trey across the lab, pausing in
the doorway. “Grat, he might be right. Let’s reconsider the
dialogue.” He offered a distracted wave then returned to the
controls.

Trey took her to a nondescript shuttle
parked in the small lot behind the building. She looked at the
shabby edifice with parental pride. It wasn’t much, but it was hers
and she could see the potential, even if no one else could.

“I know you’re retired,” Trey began.

“Semiretired. I’m always available for your
adventures.” She had served on three of Trey’s ships during her
cycles in the armed forces. He was the only commander her
rebellious nature could tolerate, so his promotion to director of
Covert Operations had prompted her resignation. If she was required
to wear a uniform, all bets were off.

Trey activated the hatch and motioned her
inside the shuttle. Tal dar Aune awaited them inside. Regal and
composed, Tal’s sculpted features revealed nothing while his
smoke-colored eyes saw everything. His sleek black hair had been
swept away from his face and formed a neat coil down the center of
his back. Dro Tar wasn’t fooled by his nonchalance. Tal could
strike faster than a cobra.

“Two Aunes for the price of one. Have I been
very good or very naughty?” Trey closed the hatch and crossed to
the expansive control console. This shuttle might look simple from
the outside, but it had all sorts of bells and whistles. “What’s
going on?”

“I need your help.” Tal’s tone was even
graver than usual. He sat in one of the passenger seats facing the
aft cabin. “I’ve done everything in my power to assure the
transition of leadership within the Conservatory progresses
smoothly, but a major setback has occurred.”

A pang of sorrow disrupted the rhythm of Dro
Tar’s heart. She hadn’t known Vee well, but his death had affected
so many of the people she cared about. “Vee named you as his
successor and transferred his wisdom and experience to you. How
could any of the Mystics object to your…promotion?”

“The ripples of discontent began before
Vee’s death. His passing has simply made the rebels bold.”

Sounded like a Mystic problem to her. So why
was one of the most powerful men on Ontariese asking her for help?
“What do you need from me? I’m not even a Mystic.”
Way to accent
the obvious
. She clasped her hands behind her back and did her
best to emulate his calm.

“The fact you are not a Mystic is part of
the reason you were chosen.” Tal scooted to the edge of the seat,
his gaze boring into hers. “Vee kept a journal detailing the
development of the Conservatory from its inception. Every
challenge, every success, many training strategies he only shared
with an elite few, all this and more is recorded in his
journal.”

“You’re talking about a physical book? He
wrote this stuff down—on paper?”

Tal shook his head. “Nothing so antiquated.
It’s a simple, portable device that stores a combination of audio,
visual and holographic entries.”

There was only one reason he’d be telling
her all this. “One of the rebels stole the journal?”

“The journal was stolen. Beyond that, my
information is muddled. We know who took it and a Seeker Circle
revealed where he went. This crime was witnessed by Master Malos,
but his account leaves me with more questions than answers.”

“According to Malos, who took it?”

“Who is not as important as why.”

She arched one of her eyebrows at the
obvious evasion. “I’ll bite. Why was the journal stolen?”

“Malos claims the thief intends to use the
information in the journal to sabotage my leadership.”

“You don’t believe the thief is involved in
the rebellion?”

“I believe Malos himself leads the rebels,
but my investigation has barely begun. I can trust no one at this
point, which forces me to look outside the Conservatory for
assistance. The man Malos accused was Vee’s apprentice. His loyalty
is beyond reproach. It is simply impossible that he—”

“Nothing is impossible and no one is beyond
reproach. Stop beating around the bush. Who took the journal and
where did he go?”

“Evan cet Roumi took Vee’s journal.”

Dro Tar just stared at Tal for a long
moment, her throat tight and dry. Trey knew how she felt about
Evan. Why would he bring Tal here if Evan was involved? She looked
at Trey, but the coward suddenly found something on the control
console that demanded his attention. After rubbing the bridge of
her nose with her middle finger, she turned back to Tal. “You said
the thief was Vee’s apprentice. Evan was already a Master-level
Mage when we crossed paths fifteen solar cycles ago.”

Trey turned around and met her gaze, his jaw
clenching before he spoke. “After Evan returned from the mission,
he renounced his standing at the Conservatory. He asked Vee to
assign him another mentor so he could be retrained. Much to Evan’s
chagrin, Vee named himself Evan’s new mentor. Evan thought it was
too great an honor. The reason for his request was to—”

“He blamed his cowardice on his mentor? ‘I
shit my pants and ran for the hills. Will you please retrain me?’
How pathetic is that?”

Tal stood, drawing her attention back to
him. His eyes began to swirl. Only Shapeshifters could control the
subtle movement universal in Ontarian eyes. Tal’s expression
remained impassive, but her belligerence had obviously upset him.
“Trey warned me that you harbored resentment toward Evan. I found
it hard to believe you would still be angry after—”

“You weren’t there! He deserted our team and
two of my friends died because of it.”

“Did you ask him what happened that day?”
Tal replied with uncharacteristic fervor. “Did you give him the
opportunity—”

“He blinked out in the heat of battle. What
is there to explain?”

“If she interrupts me again, I will silence
her,” Tal told his brother with an imperious scowl.

Trey crossed the cabin with two long strides
and placed his hand on Dro Tar’s shoulder. “This isn’t about Evan.”
She twisted away. “The information contained in the journal cannot
fall into the wrong hands.”

“It’s already in the wrong hands,” she
cried. “Evan is a sniveling—”

“Stand down, Dro Tar.” Trey’s tone snapped
with an autocratic inflection he seldom used with her.