Heart Search (46 page)

Read Heart Search Online

Authors: Robin D Owens

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Paranormal

BOOK: Heart Search
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“Finally, the hero arrives.” The sarcastic tones came with a voice that was thick and cracked and cackling. It echoed off walls of a damp and dark building. Wetness, the sound of the ocean. A warehouse at the docks. Didn’t matter.
“I got her, just like I said I would. She didn’t suffer as much as my Nivea, but I killed her the way you killed my woman.”
Cold chilled Laev from the inside out. The note hadn’t been a mistake or simple mischief. All Laev wanted was to grab Camellia and leave. The fligger was wrong, life still trickled through her, but that trickle was sluggish.
“And now I have
you
!” Wild triumph lifted the voice to a scream.
Movement. From behind him and to his right. Body acting as trained, Laev drew and fired. A painful shot. In the quick stream of the blazer, Laev saw swollen features of a vaguely familiar man. The guy clapped his hands to his head, leapt, and rolled. Made noise as he staggered from the building.
No time to hunt and kill him. Camellia was dying.
He picked her up, made things worse. His mind scrambled for images of Primary HealingHall, bright lights . . . no dimness . . . autumn sun . . . No!
He had to be a rock, concentrate, push all fear away . . . ignore how his heart pounded nearly out of his chest.
Here, here, here!
yelled Brazos. Literally hopping up and down on his four paws. Mica was doing the same, her wild screeches echoing in Laev’s mind.
Brazos jumped onto Laev’s left shoulder, Mica his right, then the next thing he knew, they were all standing in front of a door in a wall.
Open, open, open!
shouted Brazos.
Laev fumbled at the latch.
Where?
Mica whined.
FamWoman dying!
Desperation washed through Laev.
Quiet, let me think of the HealingHall . . .
But the wooden door swung open and he stood on a threshold with thick spellshields tingling his skin, probing him for—who cared?
Then two women were there—one resembled Tiana Mugwort. Her sister Artemisia. Artemisia was a Healer! Yes!
The women surrounded them, wrapped arms around him. “’Porting on three,” said the older one calmly. “Let us do it, GreatLord. One, and Cammi, two, and GreatLord,
three
!”
A hint of movement, then he was in a chamber that looked like a hospital room.
“She’s dying.”
“I won’t let her!” said Artemisia.
“Give her to us,” said the women and tried to pull Camellia from his arms.
“Mine!”
“Yes, yours.
Let go!
” A sharp command.
Reflexively, he loosened his grip. Camellia was placed on the bed. She looked terrible. Dark blood against her tunic. How had that happened? Didn’t matter. He lunged toward her, but Artemisia fended him back with an arm. “Let us work on her!”
“She needs blood?” He flung out his arm. Looked solid to him. Fisted his hand to show the veins.
“Very brawny,” the older woman said.
“Take my blood. Anything. I’m her HeartMate!”
Two gazes focused on him.
“HeartMate?” the older woman questioned. She looked like her daughters, except her hair was lighter, blondish. She pointed to a bedside chair. “Hold her hand. Connect with her. Keep her soul in this world!”
Fear throttled him. He nodded, took Camellia’s cold fingers in his own, and opened himself to her.
Then he was with her in a different space. A space dim with shadows. A shining ahead of him. The shining moved and he saw it was a wheel. The wheel of stars! For the next life. He didn’t want her to leave!
But if she did, he would, too.
Thirty-one
 
C
amellia, he whispered softly. Drew her close. He couldn’t see her, but
he could feel her body. It seemed limp in his arms. He would command.
Camellia!
Ouch!
Her head rolled back and forth on his chest. Good. He let a breath filter out. Maybe they would get through this thing. They
would
get through this thing. What was important, he kept.
Stay with me
. In that space, he held her.
Laev?
Her attention was turning to him, though he was aware of a steady pull of the wheel of stars to her.
Yes, stay with me.
I love you,
she said and he felt it, the warmth of her love enveloping him, infusing him. She slipped from his arms as if that was the last thing she needed to say before she moved on.
No!
He reached, clawed at her essence, caged it, brought it back.
Would you abandon me?
That seemed to shock her into physicality again . . . she was no longer spirit, but woman-shaped.
I . . . do . . . not . . . abandon.
She put her arms around him and his breath stopped. He had her.
Of course you don’t.
You do not abandon, either.
Her tone was tentative.
I’m here, aren’t I? I came when you needed me?
He waited, on edge now. If she didn’t trust him, she could go away again. They weren’t HeartBonded, but he would be hard-pressed not to follow. Let the Family and the Residence take care of themselves. They could. They didn’t need him. He’d follow Camellia to the wheel of stars.
You came when I needed you,
she agreed.
His arms tightened around her.
I will always be here.
Yes.
Her breath was a whisper and she relaxed against him.
Stay with me?
he asked.
Yes.
She was linked to him, their bond strong and thick as a chain, open both ways, but her consciousness was fading, steady and grounded with him, but . . .
Sleep now,
he said.
I’ll be here when you awake.
Yesh.
“She’ll be fine.” The audible voice was stringent against his physical ears after the low, caressing tones of inner communication.
He straightened and saw Artemisia Mugwort. Suddenly he knew where he was. The legendary First Grove, the original colonial Healing Grove that now only admitted the desperate.
“Yes, she will. When can I take her home?”
A rustle from the door attracted him, and he saw the older woman standing there, hands in opposite sleeves, wariness emanating from her. He didn’t think that she would introduce herself. “We have been so careful to keep this place secret from the FirstFamilies,” she said.
“I can’t thank you enough for the help you’ve given us and the sanctuary.” He breathed deeply and met her eyes, then Artemisia’s. “And like the other desperate people who have been graced with the power of this place, I promise never to speak of it.” He smiled wryly. “Our Fams teleported us to the door, so I have no idea of the location. No doubt I won’t recall how to find it again in any event.”
“It’s rare for a great noble to find himself or herself desperate. Not even T’Ash found this place as a boy.”
“We think he ran the wrong way, and couldn’t run very far. Soon afterward he had Zanth as a FamCat,” Artemisia murmured.
“No one could argue that a boy with Zanth would ever be desperate,” Artemisia’s mother ended.
“It may be rare for a FirstFamily GreatLord to find himself here, but as you can see, not impossible.” Laev gave a half bow, still holding on to Camellia’s hand. “Again, you have my word that I will tell no one . . .” He frowned. “Unless someone I know has need.” He shrugged. If someone he knew had need, Laev would help them himself, but no use binding himself too much.
“We accept your word,” Artemisia said.
If Camellia was all right, he wanted to leave, and fast. To find Feam before the fligger’s trail went cold, hunt the man down as soon as Camellia woke. “I have some business I need to take care of.”
“Business?” asked Artemisia sharply.
“FirstFamily business.” The older woman snorted.
Laev smiled mildly. “That’s right.”
“You’re going after the man who wounded your HeartMate,” said a deep voice from the doorway. Laev looked up to see an older man standing there. His finger was marking the page of an antique book. “Take some advice from a former judge,” the man continued.
The older woman sucked in a quick breath. The man waved her concern away with a hand and a half smile. “One can always count on the honor of a Hawthorn, especially this one, my dears. He conducted himself with great character during the Hawthorn-Holly feud.”
“The advice?” Laev fought to keep from shifting with impatience.
“Think about what you intend to do, the consequences to yourself and”—the man nodded at Camellia—“your relationship with her. You are not HeartBound yet, and murder could break that fate. And . . .”
“And?” Laev replied promptly, no time to play games.
“Your FatherSire and father, indeed, the whole FirstFamilies Council, learned that no one is above the law.”
Laev inclined his head. The only thing the man had said that had given him hesitation was the warning about his bond with Camellia. They’d already had too many highs and lows, and each low had been terrible and had intensified. “Thank you for your advice, GraceLord Mugwort.”
The man smiled again with a sincerity that was disarming. “Just Sinjin Mugwort now.” He switched his attention to his wife, obviously a HeartMate, gazing down into her eyes. “Can we release these youngsters?”
Be glad to see them go,
growled a mental voice that Laev realized was the Residence.
Artemisia sighed. “Always so courteous.”
Apologies, Artemisia,
now the tone was almost fawning. Then a defensive note,
He is too powerful. He could destroy us.
“I wouldn’t, and you have helped others who are powerful, Captain Ruis Elder, for instance. Tinne Holly.”
That is true.
Pride infused the telepathic communication.
Laev continued, “And you helped my relative, Cratag Maytree, now Cratag T’Marigold. I owe you for that, too.”
“The boy’s right. And none of them have betrayed us. In fact, Residence, they banded together to bring us as a Family to care for you,” Sinjin Mugwort said.
Also true, but he is still powerful and has business elsewhere so he should go,
the Residence ended.
Laev bowed, though he didn’t know if the Residence could see him.
“May I take Camellia home?”
“Her wounds are Healed,” the older woman said. “Her Flair is good, her energy is reviving. But it was a dreadful wound and she will be physically weak for a while. And her blood will take time to rebuild.”
“I understand.”
The woman looked at Artemisia. “I would appreciate it if you would recall that my daughter helped save your HeartMate’s life.”
“Mother!” Artemisia protested the hint for reward.
The former GraceLady Mugwort lifted her chin. “The old scandal surrounding our Family still lives. Artemisia uses a different surname because she might be discriminated against in her career in the HealingHalls.”
“I am grateful and will . . . ah . . . watch her career?” Laev asked.
“Yes. We would appreciate it,” the man said.
“Father!” Artemisia appealed to the scholarly-looking man.
“Influence is influence,” said her father. “And you are my child, I want you to prosper. If there comes a time when T’Hawthorn can help you, I want to be able to count on him to do so.”
“Done,” Laev said. “And in addition, I will give your daughter Tiana a golden favor token. So your Family can call upon the Hawthorns up to the death of anyone save the Head of Household. A life for a life.”
“We do not feud. The Mugworts have never feuded,” the man said. “We doubt we would demand a life.” He sounded appalled.
From what Laev had heard of the ex-lord and lady, they hadn’t fought when they should have, hadn’t stood up to the rumors surrounding them. He shrugged. Their past was not his concern. They’d helped him now and deserved the gold token.
The woman curtsied deeply. “We thank you, GreatLord T’Hawthorn.”
He nodded, gently slid his arms under Camellia, and lifted her. “Teleporting on three,” he said. Artemisia moved to join her parents. Each put a hand on her shoulder.
Envy twinged through him. They were a close and loving Family, and he knew that had Camellia shown up at that door by herself, she’d have been considered part of that Family.
But she was his now, and he would protect her. Feam Kelp would never have a chance to hurt her again.
And someday they would have children of their own, perhaps someday stand like that, a Family.

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