Fire Pearl (Beyond Ontariese 5) (6 page)

“I thought he was my lover,” she continued,
“but apparently he was my guard.”

“How did you…” He took a deep breath and
wiped his mind clear of the past. “It’s none of my business.
Forgive my rudeness. Did this man ever harm you?”

Her gaze returned to his, warmth flickering
through the pain. “No.”

“I guess I won’t have to kill him.” She
laughed, but he was entirely serious. “How did you end up in
Star-Crossed
? You never explained.”

“I was terrified and disoriented when I
stepped out of the transport conduit.” She strolled about the tent
as she spoke, absently touching the furnishings. “I was in a
secluded corner of the casino and a woman rushed to my side,
thinking I had fainted. She took my hand and helped me to my feet.
I touched her shoulder and my mind connected with hers. I can’t
tell you how I did it, but I suddenly knew her name and understood
what she was saying.”

“Language links are a very common form of
mind connection. I’ll teach you how to control them.”

“I can’t control it. I have no idea what I
did.”

Before she could argue further, he closed the
distance between them and drew her hand to his temple, pressing his
hand over hers. His eyes tingled as he opened his mind to her,
inviting her inside. The first tentative brush of her mind made his
mouth go dry. He wanted her there, joined with him, sharing her
feelings and thoughts. Clearing his throat, he augmented the link
and guided her to the language center of his brain.

“Listen to my voice. Absorb the meaning of
each word.” Halfway through the second sentence he switched from
English to Bilarrian. “Follow the connection to the language
source, the portion of my brain creating the words.”

“It can’t be this easy.” Wonder filled her
eyes and Drakkin smiled.

“Leave the link active and finish your tale
in Bilarrian.” The language infusion would be strengthened by an
active link. Still, a part of him just wasn’t ready to let her
go.

She nodded, her hand slipping out from under
his. “Forming words seems to be more difficult than understanding
them. I got many comments on my odd accent.”

“You’re doing very well. Don’t concentrate on
the individual words. Just let your story flow. Did this woman
suggest you audition for the production?” He had a hundred
questions he wanted to ask. Her coloring must have caused myriad
complications.

She started pacing again, gazing at
everything but him. “They were holding open auditions the day I
arrived. My appearance led everyone to believe I’d come for the
audition. I sat in the auditorium, trying to figure out what had
happened to me. I was terrified.” Her anxious steps faltered and
she rubbed her upper arms. “I watched each person take their turn
onstage and when my number was called, I just did what everyone
else had done. I stepped into the spotlight and the entire
auditorium grew silent. I was about to run for the nearest door
when Preston Carmichael told me to have a seat in the front
row.”

“Who is Preston Carmichael?”

“
Star-Crossed
is his baby. He
produced, directed and co-wrote the show. He knocked on my dressing
room door right before you created the vortex. Anyway, he made me
wait through all the auditions. I started to calm down and analyze
my situation. Faujer couldn’t ‘rescue’ me if he had no idea where I
was. I had no shelter, no food and no form of currency. I needed a
job.”

“Why did Preston ask you to wait?”

“He wanted to offer me one of the walk-on
parts, but he also wanted me to train as Juliet’s understudy.”

“You didn’t start out as Juliet?”

“No. I covered for her during off-peak
performances for several weeks. Then she got in a fight with
Preston and quite the show. He was an overbearing pain in the ass,
but I didn’t have the luxury of walking away.”

“How did you explain your appearance?”

She shrugged and started back across the room
at the same leisurely pace. “I had it written into my contract that
I would never appear in public out of costume.”

“Very clever.” He wasn’t fooled by her
nonchalance. She was distancing herself from her emotions, fighting
hard to remain composed.

“I enjoyed doing the show, but I was so
isolated whenever I wasn’t onstage.” Sadness bled through her
reserve, confirming his suspicion. She must have been horribly
lonely.

“How long had you been on Earth?”

“Ten months.” She glanced at him with a smile
that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I arrived on New Year’s
Day.”

Drakkin’s eyes widened then a smile parted
his lips. It was starting to make sense. “Your teleportation wasn’t
random at all.”

“What are you talking about? I have no
connection to Earth. Why would the vortex take me there?”

“You were trying to reach your sisters.”

“Keep your sunglasses on and let me do the
talking,” Noll said in an urgent whisper. Cool air blasted through
the doorway as they entered the hotel lobby.

“Why did the Mystics allow you to participate
in their ritual?” Ignoring her warning, Faujer asked the question
in Rodyte. She’d decided against giving him a language infusion.
Information was power and she shared it judiciously. Even in jeans
and a T-shirt, he looked dangerous. The transport conduit had left
him breathless and disoriented, yet it had only taken him a minute
to regain his equilibrium. Strong, stubborn, wild—he was all those
and more.

“I’m the best Farseer at the Conservatory.”
She squared her shoulders and listened for the musical cacophony
she remembered from the shared vision. “I participate in all Seeker
Circles. Now don’t speak again until we’re alone. We don’t need
that kind of attention.”

His brow arched above his sunglasses, but he
didn’t argue. She had been anxious to experience a casino ever
since the Seeker Circle revealed one in disjointed images and
flashes of color. Random spikes of emotion guided her steps—joy,
anticipation, anger, despair. The Conservatory was order and
tranquility, meditation and discipline. She licked her lips and
gazed around, mesmerized by the blinking lights.

“Are we here to play or find Aria?”

She shot him a disapproving glance. “Have you
ever seen a casino before?”

“Of course. The outer rim is thick with
pleasure lounges.” He pulled her off the main walkway and between
two rows of slot machines. “Do you even have a plan?”

“This was the first image revealed during the
Seeker Circle. She is or has been in this room.” She twisted her
arm out of his grasp and straightened the sleeve of her dress.
After a lifetime in modest robes, she couldn’t bring herself to don
jeans or shorts.

“So we just wander around and hope we bump
into her?”

She scowled at the sarcasm in his tone. “You
are a very bad slave.”

He threw back his head and laughed then
caught her around the waist. “You like your slaves bad. You like
them…” His word trailed away and he released her as suddenly as he
had pulled her into his arms. As if in a trance, he moved across
the aisle and pulled an advertisement off a support beam. “What is
this?”

Noll looked over the glossy poster in
confusion. “It’s designed to create interest in a presentation
called
Star-Crossed
.”

“Well, this,” he tapped his finger against
the upper corner of the poster, “is Aria.”

She took the poster from him and stopped a
passing waitress. “How do we arrange to see the next performance of
this show?”

“You don’t, doll.” The young woman tucked her
tray under her arm and the upper curve of her breasts swelled into
view. “
Star-Crossed
is closed indefinitely. The first Juliet
was killed in a car crash right after she quit the show. The next
one disappeared a couple weeks ago. Now everyone’s saying the show
is cursed and they’re having a hell of a time recasting the role.
Preston is about to have kittens.”

A certain inflection in her tone made Noll
suspect Preston wasn’t a cat. “Who is Preston?” She glanced at
Faujer. She didn’t have to see his eyes to know he was enjoying the
waitress’s provocative outfit.

“Producer-director. He’s going to lose his
shirt if he can’t get this thing off the ground again.”

“I’d like to speak with him.”

“You can ask at the box office.” She told
Noll where to find it. “You might get lucky and catch him in the
building.”

“What did she say?” Faujer’s head turned as
the waitress walked away.

Add insatiable to the list
. Noll
crossed her arms over her chest. She was his mistress. He should be
focused on her. Ignoring how closely her thoughts resembled
jealousy, she cupped his chin and turned his head back around. “She
said Aria disappeared a couple of weeks ago, which is when Evan and
Dro Tar were here.” She should punish his insubordination. She
should strip him naked and…
Stop it!

“Then we’re too late. She could be
anywhere.”

“A massive surge of Mystic energy can leave
an imprint on objects around it. If we can find the place where
Evan Summoned the Storm, I might be able to figure out where they
took her.”

“There are an awful lot of ifs and mights in
that strategy.”

“If you have a better idea, I’m willing to
listen. If not, remain silent.”

The polite young man at the box office
directed them to Preston Carmichael’s business office. Preston’s
executive assistant wasn’t nearly so polite. She demanded
identification and argued with each of Noll’s suggestions until
Noll used her Mystic voice to compel the contrary human into paging
Preston.

They sat in the small reception area, waiting
for Preston to join them. Noll couldn’t decide if she was more
annoyed by the argumentative human or Faujer’s overt interest in
every female they passed.

“If Evan and Dro Tar already found her, this
is a waste of time.”

Noll glared at Faujer and paralyzed his
voice. “Apparently your definition of obedient is different from
mine. I told you to be quiet.”

He swallowed repeatedly, both hands rubbing
his throat. She was about to release his vocal cords when a short,
stout man approached them.

“Sorry to keep you waiting, it’s been one
hell of a day.” He glanced at his executive assistant then focused
on Noll. “I gave my statement to the police last week. What exactly
do you need from me?”

Unsure if Faujer would behave, Noll stood and
moved in front of him. “I don’t need anything from you. I’m hoping
to help.” She produced her most charismatic smile. “I’m a
consultant of sorts. I work with various police departments and
private investigators.”

He rubbed his eyes, not bothering to conceal
his aggravation. “You’re a psychic?”

“There are many labels for what I am.”

“Do you see dead people?” For some reason he
found the question funny.

“I need to spend a few minute in Aria’s
dressing room. Is that something you can arrange?”

“First hallway on the left, second door on
the right.” He pointed toward the archway beyond his snippety
assistant. “If you’re hoping to find something you can sell online,
you’re wasting your time. The dressing room was cleaned out days
ago.” He disappeared into his office without a backward glance.

She motioned for Faujer to follow her. The
dressing room was small and sparsely furnished. Apparently Aria
hadn’t spent much time here. Faujer whipped off his sunglasses and
pointed to his throat with a menacing glare. She released his vocal
cords and he grabbed her, one arm trapping her arms against her
sides, the other hand tangled in her hair.

“Don’t ever do that again,” he snarled, his
face mere inches from hers.

“Then obey me.” Excitement sizzled through
her senses, speeding her pulse and making her weak. She could slam
him across the room with a thought or paralyze his lungs. Her
aching body protested the thought and demanded her surrender. Part
of her needed this, craved his ungentle hands and demanding
passion.

He cupped her breast and rubbed his erection
against her belly. “Tell me to come inside you and I’ll obey.”

“I already had you inside me.” Two steps
outside the throne room, Faujer had pushed her up against the wall
and yanked her robe up past her breasts. The rattle of his chains
had been the most erotic sound she’d ever heard. She had wrapped
her legs around his waist and let him take her right there in the
corridor. Shameless. Wild. She’d never come so hard in her
life.

“That was an appetizer.” His thumb circled
her nipple and he continued to rock his hips. “I’m always better
the second time around.”

“I have to scan the room.” Even to her own
ears, her voice sounded breathless and needy.

“So scan. I’m not stopping you.”

Trapping her against the edge of the vanity,
he skillfully unbuttoned her dress. She should protest. They were
on a mission. He couldn’t take her whenever he felt the urge. She
had to establish her authority.

“Do you want it hard and fast, or slow and
easy?”

She laughed. “Are you capable of slow and
easy?” It was a possibility they’d have to explore at a later date.
Her body ached, already wet and ready for hard and fast.

He unzipped his jeans and reached for the hem
of her dress. She slapped his hand away. He must learn that she was
in control, that her pleasure came before his. “It will seldom be
as easy as it was in the corridor.” She looked into his defiant
eyes and said, “On your knees.”

Pushing his pants below his hips, he stroked
the impressive length of his erect cock. “Why wait? I’m more than
ready right now.”

“Well, I’m not. You are mine to do with as I
will, and I want you on your knees.” With a mutinous glare, he
continued the steady rhythm. A bead of moisture appeared at his
tip. “If you come like that, I’ll make you impotent.” His hand
immediately stilled.