Captive Moon (15 page)

She stepped out from behind the screen and Antoine gasped. It was the outfit from his vision in the tunnel! But how could it be? His feet dropped from the desk with a solid thump that rattled his jaw. He stood and realized his mouth was open. How she had found a belly dancer’s outfit in his sister’s closet was a mystery, but there was no question about the purpose of the outfit. Thin, nearly transparent black netting heavily embroidered with a gold and red flower pattern clung low on her hips. The red beading caught the light from the window until it was the exact color of her hair stripes. The top was a halter—

and tight. It pushed and raised her chest to its full potential. The fringe on the arm coverings, top, and veil swayed as she walked closer.

She was easily the most sensuous woman he’d ever seen in his life.

“So, I suppose you’ll want me to dance for you and then have a quick roll in the hay? Is that the price for helping me find my brother? Is that why this outfit was conveniently in the wardrobe?” Her voice was terse, each word spit with venom. “I’m quite good at dancing the karshilama.”

Antoine shook his head. He was trying not to be distracted by the outfit, while still trying to decipher what she was implying. When it finally hit him, it was between the eyes, and all he could think to do was let out a vicious roar that vibrated his chest. He raised his leg sideways and kicked the nearest object, which happened to be Fiona’s favorite mahogany desk. The massive roll-top slid across the floor and crashed into the opposite wall hard enough to turn it into splinters. Another item to pay for on this visit, in more ways than one.

He was suddenly angry beyond measure, but part of his brain didn’t understand the ferocity of the fury. His reputation had been questioned before, but it was different this time. To have her think of him as—

“Merde! Putain! Surely my visions can’t have degraded to something so absolutely frivolous! This is not about sex, Tahira! The future of our kind is at stake. This is not a fucking game!”

His anger and the utter destruction of the desk cut through her attitude like a knife. Suddenly, her face was unsure, confused, and more than a little frightened. He stepped toward her and she backed away from him. “But you said—?

He fought against his own pounding heart, let out a harsh breath, and ran his fingers through his hair until he was calm enough to speak. “Yes, I know what I said, and I understand how you could take my comment as you did. But do you actually believe what they say about me in the press? Do you truly think that I’m some sort of a rake and a rogue who beds a different girl each night and has left a dozen women crying at the altar?”

All he could see of her face were her eyes and forehead above the veil; her confusion at his outburst was obvious. “I… I mean—”

He sat down on the bed and pressed fingers to his temples to try to relieve some of the pressure behind his eyes. He didn’t quite know why, but it was suddenly very important to him that she understand. He lowered his hands and inhaled slowly. “Tahira, I haven’t had an actual date in more than a year. I don’t have the time! My publicist arranges my escorts to events. Sometimes they’re starlets, sometimes upand-coming singers—whoever will be helpful to get my name in the papers. But we usually leave in separate vehicles, and I’ve seldom asked one for a second date, much less invited them to marry me.”

He stared into her eyes until he was certain by sight and scent that he had her full attention. “Do you understand? If and when I wish to date or sleep with you, it won’t be by coercion or by trickery. I will simply ask you.” He stood up and took a deep breath. “But for what it’s worth, I am glad you put on that outfit, because it makes me realize that there’s more to our chance encounter than meets the eye.”

He stepped toward her and lifted up her arm so the fringe would swing. “You, and that outfit, have been the stars of several visions of mine lately. I don’t know why, or how, but it’s time I began to explore it before we all die because of my stubbornness.”

The eyes above the veil were wide and showing too much white. “You mentioned earlier you were a ruhsal. What things have you seen of me? Have you seen Rabi in any of them?”

Antoine lowered her arm but kept hold of her hand. He frowned. It wouldn’t be appropriate to tell her that he saw himself having sex with her after just telling her it wasn’t about sex. “I certainly hope he wasn’t one of the people in my visions, because they haven’t been pleasant. I’ve been trying to suppress them for months now, because the few that have concluded ended badly—very badly. One of the visions was in the van. It’s why we wrecked.”

“But with the veil, how would you know it was me?”

He tried to think of a way to say it without giving away everything. “Even with the veil, there is no mistaking that you were part of that vision.” His gaze flicked over her, taking in every detail. “The amazing hair, your lips that taste of cherry jam and sandalwood, the hair, the clothing, and your…

exquisite body—they were all in the vision. It could be no one else. I’m just hoping that you’re part of the solution that I must find to stop the snake, rather than one of those in danger.”

She reached up with her free hand to unbutton the veil from the headdress and he noticed she was blushing furiously. “Sorry. It’s hard to breathe with this thing on. What snake?”

“I don’t know,” he replied, shaking his head and studiously ignoring her discomfort at his compliments. While all true, he had been a bit overenthusiastic. “But there’s something going on. Your brother’s disappearance, your capture, our being in Stuttgart. They’re connected. I just don’t know how. Perhaps it’s about your gift. Maybe that’s the key.”

“My gift? I don’t have one. I’m just a normal everyday Hayalet. Nothing special.”

He squeezed her hand and turned, leading her back to the bed. He sat down and patted the spot next to him. “It appears you do have a gift. It’s very rare, nearly a myth. Giselle is a sensitive, a type of—what did you call it—a ruhsal? We Sazi call them seers. She believes that you are a power well. The man downstairs, Ahmad al-Narmer, is the representative for the snakes of the Sazi. He is also one of the few people who have ever been in contact with a power well.”

Tahira held up a hand and reared back a bit in surprise. “Wait. You say his name is Ahmad al-Narmer?

That’s not possible. ‘Al’ means ‘of’ and there is no such place as Narmer. That was the name of an Egyptian pharaoh, like the Scorpion King.”

Antoine nodded and he tried to convey both amusement and warning in a small smile. “All true. But his name is not my story to tell, and you might change your mind about asking after you meet him. Just know that he and his father before him have held their seats on the council since Babylon was the seat of civilization. From what I’ve gathered, Ahmad was born somewhat over a millennium ago.”

The reaction was fairly common, but he always got a small amount of amusement to see the slack jaw and wide, slightly panicked eyes.

“I’m the youngest of our council, a mere cub. The owner of this house is so ancient that he was once worshipped as a god by his people. When I spoke with Ahmad earlier, he told me he believes you have the ability to pull magical energy from powerful shifters. It’s why when I held you in form, you continued to pull from me and I couldn’t break free. He feels that without training, you’re a danger to yourself and others.”

“But… but this has never happened to me before. Why would the first time I pulled power be with you?”

He shrugged. “Stress can bring out new talents. Or perhaps you simply haven’t encountered any other alpha shifters until now.”

She shook her head and the scent of frustration fought with a dozen other emotions for prominence.

“No, that’s not true. Both Grandfather and Rabi are—” She let out a small laugh that was filled with realization. “Hold on! Maybe that’s the answer Rabi and I were looking for. It’s why they trained us separately. Grammy didn’t have potential to be a sahip, and the first time I met Grandfather, I hugged him and then felt dizzy and hot. He looked worried and never hugged me again. But Grammy never explained why. She just started to train me personally and talk about lots of metaphysical stuff.”

“So,” Antoine said with a sigh, “it appears that your people at least understood that you had some unique ability that required special training. Perhaps they wanted to learn the extent of it before they told you. Unfortunately, we don’t have that kind of time.”

***

Tahira pulled her hand away, stood, and walked toward the divider screen, holding herself to keep from shaking. “No, we don’t. I didn’t… well, I didn’t tell you everything that Grammy said when she told me to follow Rabi.”

“Indeed? She had a vision of her own?”

Stepping behind the screen helped her focus. She wanted desperately to lie to Antoine, but she just couldn’t. It was starting to not matter about the Hayalet versus the Sazi, or the cats versus the snakes. Her brother’s life, and the lives of the people she had met in this house, were all on the line.

She slipped off the belly dancer outfit and put on the undergarments that Antoine provided. They fit reasonably well, although the underwire on the bra would make her miserable if she had to remain in it too long. She took a deep breath and let it out slow as she hooked the bra. “After I’d been looking for Rabi for nearly a day, Grammy sought me out. She pulled me into a small storage hut and told me to stay silent. She kept her voice very low so that nobody would hear her, but it was really hard to understand what she was saying. Besides, I was so freaked out with Rabi being missing that I didn’t really think much about what she said until we were downstairs earlier.”

There was no reply from Antoine, so she kept talking as she pulled the outfit she intended to wear over her head. There was no reason it shouldn’t fit and promised to actually look good. “She said that the great war was beginning again—between the Hayalet and the Sazi. But more than that, it would be species against species and if Rabi were to be killed by his captors, even the humans would learn of the Sazi’s deceit, and blood and fire would rain down on the world.”

The buckle on the ornate jeweled belt to the outfit wasn’t cooperating. Tahira kept her head down while she tried to figure out how to attach the pieces.

Antoine spoke during her pause. “But the Sazi have nothing against the Hayalet. In fact, we’ve been trying to establish friendly relations, possibly even trade between our people.”

Tahira sighed. “I know. That’s what gets me. Margo told me when she brought wine up to the bedroom that the Sazi council tries really hard to maintain a balance with the humans, keeping shapeshifters from breaking laws and such. Since I’ve never heard anything in the press about the possibility of wereanimals—well, other than the occasional bat/boy hybrid in the cheesy tabloids—you guys must be doing a pretty good job of it. But someone who knew about our abilities took Rabi. How else would they have come up with a drug that could keep me out of it for a whole month?

“I had to have turned at least once for them. I was in animal form when they captured me. By their scent, I know the captors weren’t Hayalet. Until I met you, I didn’t know any Sazi. But Grammy said that snakes were involved and insisted they were Sazi. When you said that you had visions of snakes, I decided there must be some sort of connection. But finding Rabi has to be my primary goal. Apparently, his life or death will be the thing that starts the war. And I don’t doubt it from the Hayalet perspective. Rabi is the first sahip born in two generations. He’ll take over the tribe from Grandfather. If he dies, our people will respond.”

As she finished arranging the outfit on her shoulders, she heard footsteps from the other side of the screen. Antoine was pacing.

“So,” he said as she ran fingers through her hair to untangle it from swimming, “if both my visions and your Grand-mère’s are correct, it is vital that we discover the location of your brother. But after a full month—”

She stepped from behind the screen. His back was turned while he stepped thoughtfully with hands clasped behind his back, and he shook his head in frustration. “The prospects are slim,” she agreed. “But our best lead is still the site where you found my scent.”

“Which is now covered by a foot of—” He turned and looked up, and she was pleased to see his jaw drop. It was a moment or two before he could find words, and she spun in place to show off the outfit to full advantage.

He let out a slow breath, his eyes heated. “That is … I mean… you look absolutely ravishing.”

The mirror agreed with his assessment, and she smiled. The black and cream one-piece, long dress was close in design to a classic Greek toga. A split cape overlapped at the shoulder to create sleeves. Although the jeweled belt was tight around her waist, it was actually elastic and gave a custom-fitted appearance. But it covered everything and was actually quite modest. No excess skin showing anywhere. It would probably even be acceptable to Grandfather when he arrived. She would just have to save it for short appearances, since it was too long. The hem would get filthy on the stone floors.

“Now if I only had shoes.”

Antoine smiled. “You’re in luck. While I never saw Fiona in that outfit, she did wear the belt on occasion. There are slippers to match.” He opened the bottom drawer of a bureau near the shattered remains of the desk and removed a pair of gold slippers with medium heels and jewels in the same pattern as the belt. “My sister is quite tall, so she tends to wear flats when entertaining, and heels when she needs to appear in control.”

Tahira sat on the bed and was pleased that the slippers were stretchy. They fit her wide feet perfectly. They were a bit too long, but the elastic around the top would keep them in place. Upon standing, the skirt just barely brushed the floor. “So,” she asked, “am I ready to meet Ahmad?”

“I believe that you are perfectly attired.” He checked his watch and swore lightly under his breath. He hadn’t realized they’d taken so long. “But we should hurry. It’s been over half an hour.”

They hurried downstairs, her heels clicking rapidly on the stone. Antoine opened both of the doors with a flourish. But the room was empty, save for Margo typing at the computer. She turned as they entered.