Alliance Forged (27 page)

Lisella’s aura burred with confusion. “You don’t wish to grieve by yourself?”

“Not at the moment.” Alone, the pain in her heart would be too much to face. Too raw. Too ugly.

Kalan needed to heal. Annika remained with him there. Her relationships with her Servants were more professional than personal.
Mother
forgive her, but not even meditating or praying to the
Lady
was going to comfort her. Not tonight.

Being with the
Na’Chi
, with Varian, would help her cope with the worst of it. There was no one else she felt more comfortable with.

She took a steadying breath. “I’d like to return to the
Na’Chi
apartments with you.”

For a long moment, Lisella said nothing, as if contemplating her request. “All right. But first, there’s something you need to know about Varian. Something Taybor mentioned…”

V
ARIAN stalked across the main room of his apartment, every step filled with the same restless, angry energy as the last hundred. He glared down at the rug beneath his feet. Perhaps he’d feel better if he could actually hear the satisfying thump of his boots on the hard floor.

He shook his head. Who was he fooling? Battle-rage still rode him hours after the conflict.
Nine
hours. A first. Like a hearth full of embers, the sensation burned deep inside him, smoldering and hungry. Demanding he do something to feed the craving.

Beyond the walls of his room, outside in the corridor, the muffled laughter of children and the slap of bare feet on stone darkened his already foul mood. Usually the sound of them playing games brought him peace, but tonight the noise only added to his aggravation.

His fingers flexed. He could
feel
the sweat-slick skin of his last victim’s head on his palms. The vibrations of vertebrae grating together as he snapped the demon’s neck remained imprinted in his hands. The bitter stench of fear still lingered in his nostrils. Four
Na’Reish
demons lay dead in the clearing, thanks to him, and each fed into the darkness inside him.

Not good enough
.
Not this time.

A good warrior had fallen.

Adrenaline surged through him again, fueling the hunger, nourishing the anger, changing them into something deeper, hotter, and gut-rippingly painful. Growling, he stalked back past the table in the center of the room. The candles in the candelabra flickered with the breeze of his passing. Light glinted off two flagons, a single cup, and the covered plate of a meal long since gone cold.

Another pass. This time he scooped up the cup perched on the edge. He gripped the glazed side tightly and stared at the dark crimson liquid contained within. Mouth thinning, he drank what was left in it, savoring the rich iron tang of
geefan
blood as it slid down his throat. He picked up the flagon to refill the cup and found it empty.

Varian eyed the depleted containers. Two were usually enough to sate his blood-hunger and lull the beast within an hour after consuming his fill. The physical hunger was gone, but the other still remained.

Beneath his skin his muscles twitched. The urge to hurl the cup against the wall and listen to it smash beat as hard as his pulse. His hand shook as he placed the cup down again.

Why wasn’t that part of him submerging? Returning to the darkness where it belonged? He sucked in several deep breaths.

Issuing another growl, he scrubbed both hands over his face, then grimaced at the itchy feeling of dried blood and sweat that still remained on him from the battle.

Mother of Light
, a bath wouldn’t go astray, if only to get rid of the
Na’Reish
stink from his skin. He plucked at the ties on the thick leather vest. Maybe that would settle his other half.

A quiet knock at the door came as he flung the heavy vest over the back of a chair. He ignored it and unbuckled his weapons belt.

The knock occurred again, a little harder. “Varian? It’s me, Zaune.”

After hearing Kalan would be all right, he’d returned to the
Na’Chi
apartments, declining the younger scout’s invitation to join them in the common room to eat and feed, preferring the solitude of his own room, too wired to risk remaining among company.

“Go away.” Words whispered through gritted teeth. “Not. Now.” If Zaune thought he’d changed his mind, then the scout would find out he was mistaken. It was tempting to send him away, but he couldn’t ignore the possibility that Zaune might be here for another reason. Raising his voice, he called, “What?”

The latch on the wooden door lifted and it swung open. The young scout peered into the room, his expression wary. “There’s someone here to see you.”

Varian tensed. The last thing he wanted right now was a visitor.

“Varian, may I come in?” Kymora’s soft, melodic voice came from behind the scout.

The sound of it wound its way through him until it pooled in his gut. Everything in him went tight, alert. The feeling it evoked was primal.

Wild
.

He froze. The last thing he needed was Kymora sensing him like this. He backed away from the door and put the table between them. The edge of the leather belt bit into the palms of his hands as he squeezed it.

Zaune’s gaze dipped, noting his movement, then it narrowed. When Kymora started through the door, he held an arm out to block her from entering. The protective gesture provoked the beast in him while his human half lauded the scout.

“Now’s probably not the best time,” Zaune murmured.

“Varian?” The slight hoarseness in her voice made it crack as she spoke his name. His gaze snapped to her face. She looked pale, tired;
dark smudges ringed her eyes. The wildness inside him clawed to get free. Every instinct screamed that he go to her.

He
couldn’t
.

She should go. He didn’t want her here.

Liar.
The word exploded from the darkness in his mind.

He threw the belt on the table, harder than necessary, and it clattered against the wood.

Kymora flinched. A fine tremor ran through her body; her fingers flexed around her staff. She stood firm.

You need her.

Invite her in. She needs you.

He frowned, then inhaled. Her scent filled his lungs, a familiar combination of sunshine and sweet flowers, but there was a darker undertone, slightly soured.

Grief. Sorrow. Sharp and raw.

And it reminded him why he couldn’t deal with her now. She needed comfort, but he was the last person she should be relying on to provide it.

“You should listen to Zaune, Kymora.” His gruff reply earned him a glare from Zaune. Varian ignored it and turned away from them, not waiting to see them leave.

Instead he headed for the archway that led to the bathing room. His muscles hadn’t stopped twitching, and the edges of his vision were beginning to wash out. Reaching for the collar of his shirt, he pulled it over his head. In his haste, the material tore. He peeled off the rest of his clothes and left them where they fell, scattered in a haphazard trail across the floor. His lack of control was unnerving.

Padding to the edge of the rectangular pool set into the floor, he untied the leather strip holding back his hair. Steam rose from the bath in lazy spirals. Beneath the steam, the surface of the water rippled, moving across the pool where it trickled into a trough set at water level.

The steady sound of it washing away into pipes built into the floor reminded him of the waterfalls he used to wash under in the forest. The only difference being the heated water, a luxury he appreciated since coming to live among the humans.

For half a second, he considered lighting one of the braziers but couldn’t see the point. He could see just as well without it. Besides, soaking in the semidarkness suited his mood anyway.

Sinking into the water, he closed his eyes and submerged, glad the pool was large enough to fit his long frame. All sight and sound cut off as he stayed there, holding his breath. The heat soaked into him. The utter darkness and silence was as close to peaceful as he was going to get. Pity he had to breathe.

Surfacing, he slicked his hair back off his face, then leaned against the side. He stared up at the shadowed ceiling, willing himself to think of nothing to do with the events of the day.

The faint clack of wood on stone whipped his head around. A shadow crossed the archway in the other room.

“Kymora?”

“Yes?”

Disbelief racked him. “What are you doing here?”

There was silence after his question. Perhaps the angry growl in his voice was making her reconsider her decision of intruding on him. He hoped so.

“I didn’t want to be alone tonight.” Her reply was quiet, barely above a whisper.

The emotion in her voice hit him low in the gut, tugged at him like hooks in a fin-swimmer. The image of her standing in his apartment doorway, her face strained by grief, remained vivid.

His fingernails clawed at the bottom of the pool. “There’s a room full of
Na’Chi
down the corridor.”

Again there was silence, then the hollow
tap-tap-tap
came toward
the room. Kymora appeared silhouetted in the archway, her mouth a flat line, her face pinched with raw emotion.

“Do you know how worried the others are about you?” A fine tremor of anger laced her question. “Stop isolating yourself from those who care.” She hesitated, blinking rapidly. She swallowed hard. “I need you.”

Varian clenched his jaw at the shine of tears in her eyes. As much as he wanted to deny her, the promise he’d made to her the night of the Summer’s End Festival bound him. Rather than deflect her, he tried to warn her.

“You have no idea what you’re asking of me right now, Kymora.” His voice was so deep it grated. Just a few minutes in the water had restored some of his color vision, but it washed away again with her words.

She stepped farther into the room, a familiar jut to her chin. Beneath the water, his hands clenched.
Mother of Light
, she was as stubborn and contrary as him. Just how far would she push him?

“I can feel your need, too, Varian.”

The beast inside him reacted, almost as if it’d been waiting for her to challenge him. Varian surged from the pool. Water sluiced off him in sheets. He headed straight for her.

Kymora retreated half a step, her expression morphing into shock at whatever she sensed coming from him. Reaching out, he yanked the wooden staff from her hands and flung it away. It cracked against the wall, then bounced away across the floor, the staccato beat loud, discordant.

Crimson hues outlined everything. She wanted honesty? He’d give it to her. He grabbed her shoulders and propelled her toward the wall behind her. Pinning her there, he leaned in close.

His lips brushed the shell of her ear. “What need can you sense in me, Kymora? Because I’m struggling with more than one,” he growled.

She shivered beneath his touch. Her natural scent changed. Became the faintest mix of spices and acidic sourness.
Desire laced with unease
.

His pulse quickened. Fire licked beneath his skin. One heartbeat and predatory instinct morphed into raw sexual arousal. The intensity stole his breath. Kymora’s rapid breaths puffed against his cheek. Her scent curled its way through him.

Varian shook with the effort to stop himself leaning into her and taking her mouth with his. One kiss. One simple kiss and he’d lose control. Kymora wasn’t ready for what that would unleash.

Lady of Light
, he wasn’t ready.

Kymora swallowed dryly, frozen in place by Varian’s voice. It didn’t sound like him at all. It was hard and rough and so deep it vibrated right through her. The volatile energy emanating from him made her breath catch. She pulled away but had nowhere to go with the wall at her back.

“Well, Kymora?” The earlier coldness was gone, altered into a gravelly rumble that stroked her senses.

His hand skimmed along the side of her neck, and his thumb pressed under her jaw, tilting her head toward him until she could feel his breath against her lips. His touch was gentle, almost tender.

His thumb stroked the tendon in her neck. Heat flushed through her and her heart pounded faster. She tried to calm herself and focus on his aura, but it pulsed and beat against hers. This close to him, she could no longer distinguish what his emotions were.

There’d been pain, like she’d sensed before as he’d knelt at the foot of Rystin’s grave. Guilt. Anger. Denial. Helplessness. Exhaustion. Fear. Each poured from him, raw and unchecked, like pus from a wound.

Yet she’d also felt his need for comfort and a flicker of desire in the wildness threading all these emotions together before he’d leapt from the pool and closed in on her. Now they were all so intense they
blended together into one searing ball. She couldn’t tell which one dominated. The swift changes in his moods left her confused. And apprehensive.

Lisella had tried to warn her. Perhaps she should have listened.

Wet skin dampened the palm of her hand as she tried to push him away, but he was a hard wall of sleek muscle, impossible to budge. “Varian, you’re scaring me.”

“Now you exhibit some self-preservation?” She flinched at his sarcasm, but he moved half a step back from her. “Get out of here, Kymora, before I lose what little control I have left.”

He released her, his touch gone so swiftly she swayed and had to press her hands to the wall to steady herself. Instinct warned her to leave while she could. But the tiniest waver in his voice made her pause.

Without her Gift, reading his voice was all she had to rely on.

Mother of Light,
guide me so I can help him. So I can help us both.

Heart pounding in her chest, she stayed where she was. She licked dry lips. “Would that really be such a bad thing?”

“L
EAVE, Kymora!” Varian’s voice never rose above a hoarse rumble, but anger edged each word. “Can’t you feel how close I am to losing it?”

Kymora shivered but didn’t back down. “Your emotions are so strong they’re blinding me. I can’t tell one from the other. If you’d talk to me—”