Mystic Flame (Beyond Ontariese 4) (8 page)

She shook her head. Her attraction to Evan
wasn’t the problem. It was more complicated than that. Part of her
wanted to believe he was responsible for the mission’s failure. She
needed someone else to blame.

Guilt and grief swelled from deep inside
her, squeezing her stomach and drying her throat. “Director Detrik
didn’t want to use me, but no other female operative would agree to
go.” Evan didn’t reply, so she turned around. He’d paused the
journal and pushed back from the table. “I’d never collaborated
with a Mystic before. You intimidated the hell out of me.”

A smile curved the corners of his mouth. “It
was the first mission I’d commanded. I was probably more
intimidated than you.”

“I didn’t want to like you. You were so
arrogant.” She crossed to the table and slipped into the chair
facing him. “I had far more field experience than you did and still
they chose you to lead the team. That really pissed me off.” Their
cabin on the smuggler’s ship had been continually monitored,
greatly limiting what they could say. “There was so much I wanted
to ask, so much I needed to know.”

“Ask me now. I’ll tell you anything.” His
voice wrapped around her with silken temptation, but she couldn’t
see past the contacts disguising his eyes.

She swallowed hard and glanced away. Her
curiosity would have to wait. The incident loomed between them like
a specter. Until it was vanquished, the rest was moot. “Was there
really another ship?”

“Yes. I take it you never read my addendum
to the official record.”

“I figured you’d just lie to protect
yourself, so I didn’t see the point.” She sadly shook her head. “It
was more than that. I didn’t want to know.” Her pride groaned with
the admission.

Resting his forearms on his knees, he leaned
forward. “I don’t understand. What did you gain by believing I was
a coward?”

Her lips trembled. She pressed them together
as memories flooded her mind, Bron’s easy smile, Fitz’s smoldering
gaze. Evan scooted his chair around the table and took her hands,
cradling them between his warm palms.

She raised her gaze to his and her
determination faltered. “Take off your contacts. I can’t do this if
I can’t see your eyes.”

“I will if you will,” he offered with a
hesitant smile.

After a quick stop in the bathroom to store
their contacts in plastic cases, they returned to the living room.
Evan sat in the same chair he’d vacated while Dro Tar crossed to
the sofa situated against the adjacent wall. His natural lime-green
eyes watched her with cautious expectation. She released her
tension in a long, low sigh. At least she could see him now.

“I was in a social alliance with Bron before
the mission,” she began. “I didn’t know if they told you that.”

“I suspected you two had been lovers. I
didn’t realize the relationship had ended so recently.”

“It didn’t actually end.” She drew her legs
up before her and wrapped her arms around her knees. “He was
furious when I applied for the mission. His only recourse was to
apply as well. He knew I’d be paired with a Mystic and he knew I
would… He knew sex might be necessary for the role I’d agreed to
play.”

Evan opened his mouth then raised his hands,
obviously at a loss for words.

Cut to the chase. He doesn’t need this
much detail.
“I was shocked when you zapped off the ship. I
lost focus and one of the smugglers grabbed me. Bron charged the
bastard and then all hell broke loose.”

In a blur of graceful movement, Evan was out
of his chair and kneeling in front of her. He raised his hand to
her face and searched her gaze. Compassion shone in his eyes,
making her heart flutter. “I only had an instant to act after I
sensed the signal. I tried to warn you but—”

“Don’t you understand? Bron was protecting
me when he was killed. He shouldn’t have had to protect me. I
shouldn’t have let you distract me.” She arched away from his
touch. His hand lowered to her neck. “I needed to blame you so I
wouldn’t feel so damn guilty.”

He sat beside her and gently stroked her
arm. “We were trained to protect each other. Bron was only doing
his job. You can’t blame yourself for his death. The smugglers were
responsible.”

She shook her head. “Bron knew. He looked
into my eyes and knew what I felt for you had nothing to do with
the mission. I shouldn’t have let you get to me. I should
have—”

Dragging her into his arms, he cut off her
words with his mouth. Her body unfolded, resting half on and half
off his lap. His lips gentled after a brief moment of demand. He
tilted his head and gave her bottom lip a playful nibble. “No one
expected the mission to last as long as it did. We had no way of
knowing how we would react to each other.” He shifted her against
his chest, cradling the back of her head with the bend of his
elbow. “We met our objectives. The smugglers were apprehended. Even
the crew of the second ship was eventually caught.”

“How did you escape? For that matter, how
were they able to keep you captive? You can teleport.”

“You make it sound so simple.” He paused for
a moment as his thumb traced her lips. “In my youthful arrogance, I
overestimated my range. I was lucky to solidify. By the time I
thwarted their plans, I was so weak I could hardly move.”

“How long did it take you to regain your
strength?”

“They fed me little and kept everyone away
from me so I couldn’t siphon energy. It was only when they decided
to interrogate me that I was able to acquire what I needed.”

She’d been taught how to offer energy to a
Mystic and the process still overwhelmed her. When energy was taken
without the donor’s cooperation, the energy was tainted and the
donor was often damaged.

“I managed not to kill them, though I doubt
they would have extended me the same courtesy.” He dragged his gaze
away from her face and let his hand slip to her shoulder. “The
memorial services for Bron and Fitz had already taken place by the
time I returned to Ontariese. Director Detrik told me the mission
was considered a success, but I couldn’t accept the cost. I was
team leader and two men had died on my watch.”

“I know you renounced your title and asked
to be retrained.”

He nodded. “I wanted to take responsibility
for my actions. I don’t pretend to be blameless. If I had warned
the team about the ambush instead of trying to be a hero, we might
have been able to blast our way out.”

“Or we might have lost the entire team.”

“Life is filled with possibilities.” His
voice was low and reflective, his gaze fixed on her mouth. “We’re
never completely sure the decisions we make are correct. I’ve tried
to learn from my mistakes, but I am not a coward.”

Time itself paused as he raised his gaze to
hers. All the bitterness melted away, leaving a vague sense of
longing. She missed her friends and ached for the future she might
have built with Evan. “It was easier to believe you deserted us
than to accept responsibility for Bron’s death.” Her voice was
barely a whisper.

He sat her on his lap and framed her face
with his hands. “Repeat after me—I am not responsible for Bron’s
death.”

“I am not responsible for Bron’s death.”

“Let’s try another one. Loving Evan did not
contribute to the tragedy.”

She shook her head, her lips parting in a
reluctant smile. “I never said I loved you. There’s that Mystic
arrogance again.”

He laid her back across the couch and arched
over her. Interlacing their fingers, he drew her arms over her head
and settled his mouth on hers. She inhaled his scent, relishing the
teasing brush of his lips against hers.

“I missed you.” He didn’t allow her to
reply. Tracing her lips with the tip of his tongue, he warned her
of his intention then eased into her mouth. His taste, the silken
slide of his tongue against hers, the urgency, no one kissed like
Evan.

Angling her head and curling her tongue
around his, she savored the heat and the intimacy. She needed to
touch him, to rediscover the wonder of being with him. His warm
breath wafted across her moist lips as he pulled back.

“We can’t do this.” He panted. “I have to
figure out why we’re here.”

“I think this is why we’re here. I think Tal
wanted us to work things out.”

He shook his head, his ravenous gaze moving
over her face. “Tal didn’t trigger my vision. He might have sent
you after me, hoping we’d reconcile, but the crisis is real.”

“Show me.” She tightened her fingers around
his as he started to get up. “Show me what you saw in the
vortex.”

She wanted his mouth on hers, or better yet,
his entire body wrapped around her. Instead, he pressed their
foreheads together and told her to close her eyes. As soon as she
lowered her lids, color and light burst within her mind. Bending,
shifting, like a Mystic kaleidoscope, images flashed through the
color in rapid succession. She was about to dismiss the fragments
as simple distortions when emotion bombarded her mind. Trepidation
squeezed her heart. This was real. Someone was in danger. For just
an instant she saw thick-lashed lavender eyes, filled with fear and
hopelessness, then the image disappeared into the colors and the
vision dissolved.

“Who is she?” Dro Tar whispered.

He eased back and met her gaze. “That’s what
we have to figure out.”

Grat held the palm-size device level with
his face and said, “Full spectrum display.” A three-dimensional
grid rose from the surface of the scanner. Malos had assured him
the scanner would pick up the Mystic’s energy pattern. As long as
Dro Tar was still with the Mystic, Grat shouldn’t have any trouble
executing his objectives.

Stone-cold fury washed over him. The mission
was familiar. Neutralizing a threat was nothing he hadn’t done
before, but he’d left this life behind after he met Dro Tar. Her
effervescent personality and undaunted spirit had motivated him to
change. He’d sworn he’d never hunt again and he’d meant it.

He shook away the thought. His intentions no
longer mattered. If some faceless Mystic had to lose his life to
ensure Gine’s safety, so be it. He’d disable the Mystic, retrieve
the journal and return to Ontariese with Dro Tar.

Then Malos would pay for making him break
his vow!

Malos insisted the only way to avoid
detection was to make sure the transport conduit never touched the
ground. So he’d dropped Grat into a field adjacent to the airport
with all the care of a garbage scow. Stunned and aching from the
impact, Grat had walked to the terminal and located one of the
yellow vehicles Malos had described. The vehicle then delivered him
to the hotel and Grat secured a room.

First and foremost, Grat had to locate the
Mystic. According to Malos, the scanner was accurate but its range
was limited. The city’s attractions were congregated in two primary
locations, downtown and the Strip. He would organize each into a
manageable grid then begin his search.

If only he had some form of transportation,
the search would take a fraction of the time than if he attempted
it on foot. A brochure for helicopter tours lay on the nightstand.
He shook his head. An aerial search might take him out of scanner
range. He needed an automobile and someone capable of operating it
while he scanned each building within the grid.

He picked up the primitive audiocom and
punched the button connecting him with the front desk.

“May I help you?”

“Yes, I need to arrange transportation to
take me about the city.”

“Tourist information is on the table, sir,
and there should be a directory in the nightstand. Dial nine for an
outside line.”

“Though I speak your language, I am unable
to comprehend your writing.”

After an audible sigh the clerk muttered,
“The concierge left for the day. I’ll have to roundup someone who
can help you.”

“My time is valuable. Please conclude your
rounding up quickly.”

“I’ll do my best.”

“This person will come to my room?”

“Yes, just give me a few minutes.” Without
further interaction, the agitated person ended the call.

Annoyed by the complication, Grat paced the
room. He hated being dependent on others even to this small degree.
Unfortunately, the urgency of this mission hadn’t allowed for
detailed planning.

It took longer than a few minutes, but
someone finally knocked on his door. He looked through the tiny
magnifying lens to make sure his visitor was an employee then
opened the door.

“The front desk said you needed help calling
a cab.” The young man wore black pants and a short sleeved shirt
with a graphic Grat had seen displayed in various places throughout
the hotel.

“Is a cab the yellow vehicle that
transported me here from the airport?”

“Yeah.”

“Then that is not what I require. That
driver expected compensation for the duration of the ride as well
as the distance travels. I need an escort for several hours,
perhaps longer.”

“You want an
escort?
”

Grat wasn’t sure why the young man
emphasized the word, so he attempted to clarify. “I know no one in
this city. I need—”

“I’ve got you covered.” He walked over to
the desk on which one of the audiocoms was located and punched
numerous keys with his middle finger. “These guys will take good
care of you.” Smiling broadly, he handed the awkward device to
Grat.

“Racing Hearts Escort Service,” a pleasant
female voice came across the line. “Your satisfaction is
guaranteed.”

He returned the young man’s smile as he
said, “I’d like to arrange for an escort.”

“Any luck?”

Evan looked up from the journal and folded
his hands on the tabletop. Dro Tar reclined in the contoured spa,
the bubbling water more or less hiding her nudity from view. An
intriguing combination of brown, green and gold, her gently
swirling eyes never failed to captivate. She wasn’t trying to
distract him. She didn’t have to try. Ever since she’d emerged from
the bathroom wearing nothing but a fluffy white towel he’d been
unable to concentrate.