Heart Search (48 page)

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Authors: Robin D Owens

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Paranormal

BOOK: Heart Search
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“Maybe they’re just gentler than we are.”
“Had it easier?” Laev snorted, settled the pistols in his holsters. “Maybe they just didn’t want to see what was there.”
“Maybe he hid it.”
Laev made a chopping motion. “Enough. Now he’ll pay. They’ll pay.”
“Don’t kill him.”
He gave her a cool stare. “I’ll do what needs to be done.”
“For your own sake, don’t kill him.” A pulse of love came from her to him, and he knew that cost her energy, and that she had so little, had come so close to death, made the red mist rising in his mind seethe.
There was the soft sound of air being dislocated, and Laev went to the door between the sitting room and his bedroom. Tiana and Glyssa appeared on the teleportation pad. They both wore identical ritual tunic and trous in shades of blue. Laev figured that Camellia might have one, too. The simple thought grounded him, erased some of the anger. Glyssa’s red orange hair seemed as wild as Brazos’s.
The cat was prancing around the room, waving his tail.
I found them. I brought them. They can stay with FamWoman while we go. Hunt. Kill.
“—and that’s what happened,” Tiana said on a rush of breath.
The women moved to the bed and Camellia.
Glyssa ordered a brighter light and Camellia winced. “Sorry, Cammi. You’re sure she’s all right?” choked Glyssa.
“Yes, both mother and Artemisia Healed her wounds.” Tiana frowned. “She looks a little wan. Loss of blood, perhaps.”
We will go. Hunt and kill!
Brazos chanted, walking across Laev’s feet.
Tiana glanced at Laev. Flinched. He didn’t care.
“Perhaps we should take her to Primary HealingHall. Just in case,” the priestess offered weakly.
“Residence?” Laev asked.
“Yes, Laev.”
“Request T’Heather come here.”
“Contacting T’Heather Residence. Done.”
“Thank you.” Laev considered whether to take a sword or long knife with the pistols. Decided that he was better off with just blazers. He knew he was also better than Kelp in hand-to-hand combat.
“What is going on here?” demanded the retired FirstLevel Healer of Celta.
Laev spared him a glance. “My HeartMate’s been wounded.” He bowed to the man his FatherSire’s age. “I would greatly appreciate if you would examine her.”
“My mother and sister are good Healers!” Tiana said.
“I’ll just take a look,” the Healer, who appeared more like a farmer, soothed. But T’Heather’s glance nailed Laev. “Shouldn’t be dressed for battle, young Huathe.”
“The Kelps have called on their allies,” the Residence said. “They have warned Feam.”
Laev swore.
“Promise you won’t kill him!” Camellia said, but she groaned as T’Heather lifted her.
“You’re in good hands,” Laev said. “I’ll be back soon.”
I know where he is. He will not escape us,
Brazos said.
We will go and hunt and kill!
T’Heather sent a fulminating glance at the cat, then switched it to Laev. “Bad as the Hollys.”
Laev just grinned again, opened his arms wide for Brazos to jump into, and teleported with him.
They arrived on a quiet street between empty warehouses. Since there was no slap of water against piers, no scent of the ocean, they were in northeastern Druida and not by the docks.
A caged spell-light illuminated a small area and he cursed it under his breath. It would ruin his night vision. Brazos jumped down and slunk to the shadows of the opposite building.
He was here. Let Me look. Do not move, you are too noisy.
Laev stood still, drew his pistols from the holsters. Better he take Feam down at a distance. He could control his anger that much, if the man was a shadow in front of him like a target. If Laev got his hands on the guy, anger, the remnants of fear, might push him too far. He strained his ears, heard nothing.
The leather on his body was beginning to cool as a breeze wrapped around him. He was all too aware that the spring night had slid back to winter instead of forward into summer. His chest was cold. Soon, soon he’d be active.
There was a short yowl of warning, then a hint of rushed air, and he pivoted, got hit by a solid blow to the ribs from a foot, grabbed the ankle, and continued to turn. Man was a terrible fighter.
Feam fell under him. Laev heard the crack of a breaking limb and Feam shouted in pain. Laev smiled. “Got you. You’ll never hurt my HeartMate again, you fligger.”
Kelp’s eyes were wild with pain and fury. Blood showed black on his mouth. He’d bitten his lip through and through. Fury was rising in Laev and he hung on to his temper by threads. This had been too easy. He longed to pound Feam.
Licking a trace of the blood away, Feam grinned up at Laev. “But I will,” he rasped. “I will win and I will hurt you and her both. Make you suffer as you made my beautiful Nivea suffer. You have no HeartGift to give that girl.” He laughed.
Yes, this man had been Nivea’s lover. “Where’s my HeartGift?” Laev growled, grabbing hold of Feam’s hair, ready to lift his head and slam it into the ground.
“Guardsman Winterberry here,” said a cool voice. “I had a trace on you, T’Hawthorn, and was notified the moment you cried feud on the Kelps.”
Feam smiled into Laev’s eyes. “I don’t know. Nivea never gave it to me.”
He lied. Laev knew it, but also knew that the man would never tell. That would be Feam’s—and Nivea’s—last revenge.
 
 
F
our days later, Camellia sat quietly on a chair in Laev’s sacred grove
at T’Hawthorn Residence. She lifted her face to the spring sun, welcoming the warmth that would sink into her chilled bones.
She should have been rested and serene. Instead she was on tenterhooks.
A Hawthorn had brought Senchal to a cottage on the estate where he could practice his art without care for gilt for the rest of his life. He’d fallen in clover.
So had she.
The day after her father died, she’d given the Licorices Captain Hoku’s documents. His maps of the landing of
Lugh’s Spear
and the blueprints of the ship had been sped to the expeditions. Hoku was a hero again. She and Senchal had been confirmed as the Captain’s ultimate heirs. Gilt would flow their way, but that was in the future. Now she understood that she had needed to bring solid proof of worth to her marriage.
That didn’t change her current circumstances. The way the Family and Residence were treating her made it evident that they had great expectations of her if . . . when she became D’Hawthorn. Enough expectations that would interfere with running her tearooms and business.
Since the horrible night her father and uncle had died, Laev had handled the payoff of her patrons, the reconstruction of her tearoom. She should have fought him but was still recovering from shock.
Psychic shock that her father and uncle had died, violently, both hating her, had pummeled her more than expected. The complete strangeness of living in T’Hawthorn Residence, along with the knowledge that she’d never return to the house that had been her home and sanctuary. If she closed her eyes, she could still see her uncle intermingled with the wardrobe.
Not to mention that her body was still recovering from blood loss. All the Healers from T’Heather down had recommended that transfusions be minimized, so she hadn’t had any. Apparently it would take a month to get back to normal.
Laev was treating her like the finest crystal. When she was asked her opinion, he didn’t argue, even though she could see from a line or two in his forehead that he didn’t agree. They’d had a very polite discussion where he offered to buy into her business and she’d refused. She hadn’t been able to read him or sense through their bond whether he’d been disappointed.
All was smooth and surface emotions between them. They’d had no sex—made no love.
She couldn’t live like this.
He had given her more than she had him, and it was stupid to think that way, but she couldn’t help it. She
must
stop thinking that way.
And she would, when she accomplished one more thing.
Primross had said Laev couldn’t find his HeartGift. She could.
Subliminally, she’d felt the emanations from the object from the moment Laev had begun to create it. Like everything else with regard to him, she’d denied, denied, denied—locked it behind that door in her being.
Now it was time to be truly free, to acknowledge her love and move on with her life. So she relaxed deeply, leaning back in the chair and letting the bond to the gift unfurl as a small gilt thread. Her link with Laev was large and strong and golden, more a bridge-cable than a rope.
She waited, tested, considered. Better not to teleport.
A lot of people were being more careful about teleporting.
So she made sure she knew the direction, held it in her mind as she walked back through the beautiful grounds to the awesome Residence. As she passed by the ResidenceDen, she heard Laev lecturing Jasmine Ash, and the girl’s light laughter, and smiled. Laev had more friends, more people who respected him than he knew.
If—when—she stayed, she’d live in fabulous rooms surrounded by luxury. He was sharing that.
She was sharing nothing but her problems. Oh, she knew she loved him, that she gave him support and love through their bond, so she was contributing equally in that way to their relationship. But she
needed
to show her love.
She changed clothes from a loose houserobe and into one of her favorite tunic and trous sets of a celadon green that she wore so much it was shabby around the edges despite physical and spell mending.
Do you go out, Camellia?
the Residence asked, a hint of worry in its tone.
“That’s right.”
“Alone? Let me call a guard to accompany—”
“Not this time, Residence, I’m not going anywhere I would need a guard. The feud with the Kelps is over.” The women had paid Camellia’s Healing bills and Camellia’s debt had been cancelled. The Kelps’ humiliation had been deep and public.
They were relieved that Laev was satisfied with the criminal mark magically tattooed on Feam, the tracker spell laid on him, and his banishment from Druida and Gael City. Camellia had the idea that Feam would have to work hard in the future. No more support from his Family.
“It’s dangerous outside my walls,” Residence stated. Camellia stopped and considered that. The Residence beings would be the ultimate agoraphobics, worried about everything outside. How would that affect their personalities? Would they be obsessed about keeping their Family indoors? Right now the Residence was mildly concerned about Camellia’s safety. What would happen four hundred years in the future? Had anyone thought of this before? Were people studying it? She should speak to Tiana about it. Residence personality disorders. Huh.
Mica popped through the cat door set in the thick wooden one to Camellia’s room.
Are we going somewhere?
The Residence must have called her.
A surprise,
Camellia whispered through the bond that only she and Mica shared.
Goodie!
Then the cat looked at the scry panel.
Residence, I will go with My FamWoman. We will be fine.
They left Camellia’s room and walked through the castle.
“Please take one of the gliders,” the Residence said.
If she’d been in her own home, she could have walked out and caught a public carrier, but they ran much less here in Noble Country. “All right, one of the new smaller ones.” Without Laev’s arms or colors.
“It will be in the front. I will notify—”
“I’m on an errand for a surprise
gift
for Laev,” Camellia said.
“A
gift
for Laev?” The Residence sounded thrilled. They were in the oldest part of the Residence with small chandeliers. Crystal tinkled.
Camellia was sure that the Residence didn’t know she hadn’t made a HeartGift for Laev, so that’s what it was thinking of.
I am here to accompany you.
Brazos swaggered into the hall.
Camellia hadn’t really expected that she and Mica could leave without him. She fumbled for the mental connection that she shared with only him.
We are going to get a surprise for Laev.
Brazos ran around the room in excitement, long hair flowing. Camellia wondered if he was naturally that fast or was using Flair.
She timed her steps to the door to miss him, then opened it. Mica paraded out, tail high and tip gently waving, dignified. Brazos shot out the huge double front doors, yowled at the glider under the portico, and zoomed into the vehicle through the crack as its door rose.
By the time Camellia reached the glider, both cats were sitting in the driver’s seat. Even though she didn’t actually know how to steer or maneuver the vehicle, Camellia thought she should be there. So she stood with the door open until they noticed.

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