Tainted Hearts (31 page)

“You know why.”

“I know the lies the elders use to control
us. I want nothing more to do with the world below.”

“There have always been lulls, shifts in
power, and periods of waiting. We are above these things. We answer
to a higher calling.” Varrik glanced at the woman. She remained
silent and watchful as Bemzire argued their case. “Even if the
elders allowed you to leave, how would you survive? You’re a
criminal according to the world above. As soon as they realize
where you came from, they will take you to the City of Tears.”

“Then sweep my mind. The elders might not
realize you have the gift, but I know you do. Use your ability on
me, so I have nothing to reveal.”

Varrik shook his head, his heart pounding in
his chest. If one of the elders sensed the emotions raging in this
room, they might join and penetrate his mental shields. He wasn’t
ready to be a sweeper, was still too conflicted to embrace his
destiny.

“Sweeping your mind won’t keep the overlord
from torturing you. If you think you’re a prisoner now, wait until
you’ve spent some time in the City of Tears.”

“Bemzire might have been trained as an
assassin, but he has never taken a life.” The woman finally spoke.
Her tone was calm, her expression resolute.

“He’s a hunter, one of the leaders, a direct
descendent from the south.” Varrik stared into her eyes, waiting
for her to argue. She said nothing, so he drove the point home.
“You were not the only woman taken during the hunt. Are all the
females willing to forgive?”

“It has to start somewhere,” Bemzire said
firmly.

Varrik turned back to his friend. “You
didn’t answer my question.” He crossed his arms over his chest,
gathering anger about him to drive back the pain. They were only
repeating Sekall’s heresy, but the topic dredged up unwanted
memories. Charismatic and shrewd, Sekall had been the biggest
threat the elders had ever faced. So dangerous, in fact, he’d been
silenced—while Varrik was forced to watch.

“We will live a quiet life in some secluded
settlement,” Bemzire told him.

Varrik snorted. “Does she know how to plant
and harvest? You’re certainly no farmer.” Bemzire raised his chin
and reached for his sidearm. “You see. Lethal instincts and
instantaneous reactions, cunning perception and faultless aim. The
only vocation you’re qualified for is military, and the warlords
won’t have you.”

“I have other abilities.”

“Ah, yes. You can create the illusion of
invisibility and move small objects with your mind. What value does
that have in the world above?” His crestfallen expression was
answer enough. “You’re a hunter, Bemzire, a trained assassin. Don’t
attempt to leave. They will kill you. One cycle with this female
does not need to end your life.”

“This is no life,” she sneered. “You
accomplish nothing. You don’t even destroy. You’ve become ghosts
with no purpose, obediently going through the motions of a
meaningless existence.”

He shot her so scathing a glare she took an
automatic step backward. “You won’t remember his face come morning.
You won’t remember anything at all. Now get out of my sight!”

Varrik waited until they left to vent his
aggravation. He kicked over a chair and released a string of curses
that echoed off the cold stone walls. Through sheer force of will
he kept memories of his brother buried deep in his mind. He had
idolized Sekall, absorbed every word he spoke like a sponge. It
took many cycles for Varrik to realize the true danger of his
brother’s radical thinking. Hope could cut more deeply than any
blade.

Their world might be bleak and lonely, but
there was no place for them in the world above.

With an infuriated hiss, he stormed from his
chamber and hurried toward the Council of Elders’ meeting room. He
had to protect Bemzire from his own foolishness. A guard announced
him then motioned him inside. The table, like the room itself, was
perfectly square. Each elder represented a geographical region,
north, south, east, and west. They sat facing each other, their
regions at their back.

“What can we do for you, Varrik?” Elder
North asked.

Varrik waited for the guard to shut the door
before he spoke. “Bemzire’s female is scheduled for release
tomorrow. He is planning to escape with her tonight.”

The elders exchanged pleased glances, then
Elder North stood. “Why have you chosen to warn us?”

“I honor the Customs. The laws are designed
to protect us all.” He squared his shoulders and added, “Despite
his misguided notions, Bemzire is my friend. I would rather not see
him sacrificed because of this woman.”

Elder North rounded the table and clasped
Varrik’s shoulder. “We have waited many cycles for Vade’s strength
to be revealed in you. We feared your brother’s influence had
poisoned your mind. This is encouraging, very encouraging
indeed.”

Echo dar Aune stood in the shadow of a
massive
storax
tree. Long, slender branches draped the
ground and trailed in the water of Mystic Brook. Twilight had
deepened the lavender-tinted sky, turning it a shade between purple
and gray. Fluffy pink clouds floated toward the horizon as
intar
larks sang out in the peaceful haze.

Drawing in a deep breath of cool, clear air,
Echo savored the solitude. This had been the longest week of her
life. It wasn’t every day that Overlord Lyrik’s sister got married,
and to add mayhem to complication, Crystal had joined with a
Bilarrian dignitary.

Lyrik refused to have the wedding in the
City of Tears, claiming the military outpost was far too dreary for
such a festive occasion. So relatives and VIPs from all over the
star system had descended on Mystic Valley.

Left to deal with the security nightmare,
Uncle Trey had insisted they combine the firepower of his special
forces with the protection of the Mystic shields. Her father, Head
Master Tal, hadn’t seen a reason to object, so he agreed to host
the wedding. Only those with Mystic abilities were allowed inside
the Conservatory, but the elegant visitor center was large enough
for the event.

“Is he here yet?”

Echo smiled at the anticipation in her
sister’s tone. “Soon,” she whispered, not bothering to turn around.
She could picture E’Lanna’s flushed cheeks and luminous gaze. The
dreamy expression had seldom left her face since Zane cet Malaque
rotated onto their security contingent. “Do you think they do it
intentionally?”

“Does who do what intentionally?”

“Do young, physically attractive men apply
to be our bodyguards?”

“They haven’t all been gorgeous like Zane.
Think about Leor. He was older than Father, and no one would
mistake him for handsome.”

“True, but his partner was Taminish.”

“It doesn’t matter what they look like.
They’re sworn to protect, not satisfy, us.” E’Lanna glanced into
the distance and clasped her hands in front of her, the epitome of
propriety and decorum. Echo wasn’t fooled by the pose. E’Lanna’s
nature was every bit as passionate as her own.

“The things I learned from Taminish had
nothing to do with safety.” Wistfulness took over her voice as her
mind filled with memories. Sensual exploration and youthful
exuberance had driven each encounter. What he’d lacked in finesse,
he’d made up for with enthusiasm. She would always think of
Taminish with a smile.

She turned toward E’Lanna and found her twin
staring back at her. The identical purple gowns they’d worn for
Crystal’s wedding accented the similarity of their features. On any
other day, Echo would have refused to indulge their mother and
chosen clothing vastly different from E’Lanna’s. Their golden-brown
hair and smoky-violet eyes made them hard to tell apart. Still, the
novelty of being mistaken for one another had worn off cycles
ago.

“What about Kiel?” E’Lanna’s brow arched in
challenge. “He was reassigned two cycles ago. Surely you can tell
me now. How far did you allow things to go? I know you didn’t let
Taminish do more than play, but what about Kiel?”

“A lady never tells.” Echo hid her guilty
smile by motioning over E’Lanna’s shoulder. “Our newest bodyguard
approaches.”

They’d planned their escape all evening.
Echo waited until the party was in full swing, then sneaked away
into the verdant meadow, still within the Mystic shields. Using
Echo’s disappearance as an excuse, E’Lanna went to search for her
sister. Last, Zane abandoned the festivities to investigate the
location of the twins. The ruse wouldn’t keep the other guards away
for long. Echo intended to distract them while E’Lanna and Zane
enjoyed the romantic setting.

A flicker of light drew her attention across
the brook. Her heart lurched then resumed its steady rhythm. She
squinted into the setting sun and scanned with her mind as well as
her eyes. Had someone else decided to escape the ruckus hall? A
line of lush trees marched toward the meditation gardens, which
butted up against the practice yard. She saw nothing out of place
and sensed no danger. So what had caught her eye?

“Thanks for this.” E’Lanna kissed her cheek
then wrapped her arm around Zane’s lean waist. “We only have a few
more weeks before Zane is scheduled for reassignment.”

Uncle Trey claimed the rotation kept a
balance of experience and fresh perspective on the security team.
Echo suspected the practice was also meant to keep the men from
developing personal feelings for the women in their charge. As
their reminiscence proved, the strategy wasn’t entirely
successful.

“Don’t be too long,” she cautioned. “Even I
can’t confuse them forever.”

Smoldering heat and sensual hunger flowed
through Echo’s mind as Zane swept E’Lanna into his arms. Echo
hurried along the grassy riverbank, leaving the lovers alone in the
dark. The intensity of her sister’s emotions drew Echo deeper into
the meld. She saw Zane’s handsome face and his blacker-than-night
eyes. Saw the tenderness and desire alight in his smoldering gaze.
She felt his hand glide across E’Lanna’s shoulder and dip inside
her gown to cup her breast. E’Lanna sighed, pressing into his
touch, wanting more than a few stolen kisses.

With concentrated effort, Echo eased out of
her sister’s mind and shielded her end of the link. She collided
with Lor dar Joon and gasped. His large hands clasped her upper
arms, steadying her until she regained her footing.

“Your face is flushed and your expression
dreamy.” A knowing smile parted his lips. “Either you were having
very naughty thoughts, or E’Lanna is with Zane—again.”

Lor had been her father’s apprentice until
he completed his training four cycles ago. Echo had spent half her
childhood enamored with him, yet she had come to think of him as a
close friend by the time she saw male appreciation in his eyes. Her
mother, High Queen Charlotte, would doubtlessly welcome a match
between them. The House of Joon had resented the House of Aune for
centuries. The hostilities escalated with frustrating regularity,
despite Charlotte’s best efforts to establish lasting peace.

“Did Father send you after me?” She smoothed
the heavily embroidered material of her bodice against her ribs,
her senses still humming. Strolling to a nearby tree, she leaned
against the trunk, needing the stability at her back. Her teasing
tastes of passion had never produced the sort of emotions E’Lanna
enjoyed with Zane.

Lor moved closer, the wind playing through
his curly blond hair. “As a matter of fact, he did. You shouldn’t
be out here alone.”

“I’m not alone.” She glanced up at him and
offered her best flirtatious smile. “I have you to protect me.”

He placed his hands on either side of her
shoulders, his turquoise gaze searching her face. “What makes you
think you’re safe with me?”

“You would never do anything to displease
Father.” A note of disappointment bled through in her tone.

“Unlike Zane?” He brushed her cheek with his
knuckles then reluctantly stepped back. “Are they out here, or were
you entertaining wicked thoughts?”

“I was enjoying the sunset,” she claimed
with innocent bravado.

“But you’d rather be enjoying passionate
kisses and bold caresses?” A strand of her hair flitted against her
check. He tucked it behind her ear, his fingers lingering against
her skin. “Will you stop moping if I kiss you?”

“I am not moping!” She averted her gaze. Lor
was handsome and experienced, intelligent and kind. She had often
wondered what it would feel like to kiss him. With a deep chuckle,
he pulled her into his arms and pressed his mouth over hers. She
wrapped her arms around his back and parted her lips, waiting for
the first brush of his tongue.

He took his time, nibbling at her lips and
tracing her mouth with the tip of his tongue. When he finally
delved into her mouth, she was panting and restless. His tongue
stroked hers, traced her teeth, then stroked hers some more. She
waited for the knee-melting heat, the rush of tingling fire E’Lanna
felt each time Zane kissed her. Lor’s mouth was warm, his body
strong, but the kiss was no more than pleasant.

Some unseen force slammed Lor forward,
knocking Echo against the tree. She yelped. He groaned then sank to
his knees. He was jarred sideways and flipped onto his stomach. He
went wild, kicking and thrashing as unseen hands restrained him.
Echo screamed, reaching out with her mind. Lor bucked and heaved
against the ground. Fire erupted around him, triggered by his
pyrokinetic gift.

E’Lanna’s mind reflected Echo’s fear. Was
the same thing happening to E’Lanna, or was she reacting to Echo’s
terror? Lor’s hands were trapped beneath him, while the grass
around him sizzled. Did the assailants know he could throw
fire?

She was dragged away from the tree, her
attackers vague distortions against the coming night. Invisible
arms wrapped around her, pulling her tight against a tangible body.
They were real. She just couldn’t see them.