Echoes in the Dark (44 page)

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Authors: Robin D. Owens

BOOK: Echoes in the Dark
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Grinning,
Bastien said, “He’s got her.”

Faucon
said, “Show them in.” He smiled, too, and Raine felt the fizz of interest and
satisfaction in his Song.

The
woman smiled back at him. “I don’t think they are expecting all of you.” She
made a wide gesture.

“Even
better,” said Marian.

“And
we don’t really know a thing,” Alexa said with satisfaction.

“But
it would be good for them to stay and participate in the ship-raising
tomorrow,” Raine said, considering. “Friends from the Singer’s Abbey itself.”
She nodded decisively. “Show them in.”

The
woman curtsied to her. “Yes, Lady.”

All
the Friends said was that they were told to come by this date. They did ask if
the Exotique Singer had arrived.

Sinafinal
and Tuckerinal and Enerin, who’d been dozing on various laps as cats and
kitten, perked up and began cat-chattering. Then they stalked over to the
Friends and sniffed their hems.

Marian
said the feycoocus informed her that the Exotique Singer was a volaran ride
away and enjoying herself. The feycoocus went to see her every day. With a
piercing look Marian asked how the Singer and her Friends had come to lose
Jikata.

The
Friends shuffled, and muttered inaudible answers.

Alexa
invited them to spend the night and take part in the ship-raising ritual the
next day.

That
perked them up and they left.

Luthan
is taking care of the Exotique Singer,
Sinafinal said with authority.
She
will join us when it is right.

And
that was that. As usual, no more could be gotten from the feycoocus as cats.

On the Road

J
ikata’s Song
drew Luthan. Not just her personal Song that had woven around him from the
moment they’d met, and that he’d breathed in every moment they were together.
This was actual Singing of a tune he’d never heard before, a tune she’d begun
making one morning and had refined note by note, over a few days. She wasn’t
only a Singer, but a composer, and her talent awed him.

Her
voice and the Power behind it snared him. As he walked toward where she sat in
front of the pavilion as the stars came out, he finally admitted to himself
that he’d had prophetic flashes of the Song and look of her all his life.
Dreams that had awakened him sweaty and yearning for something he knew wasn’t
found on Lladrana.

Now
she was here, and there had been no instinctive revulsion for her. Surely a
blessing.

All
he had to do was offer her his hand. Problem was he didn’t want to do that, he
wanted to yank her to him, feel her soft body against his, under his, wrap
himself in her long hair and bury himself in her and race to the top of the
mountain of ecstasy.

But
she Sang a Song of dawn becoming a soft summer morning and volarans playing in
the pearl-pink lightening sky.

He
looked at her with jaw clenched, quivering in every muscle, wanting her. It had
been a long time since he’d had a woman, couldn’t remember the last, any other
woman, when his eyes were on Jikata. And he’d never had a woman like her. Would
never have a woman like her, a Songsmith, a Singer, an Exotique.

A
woman born to Sing the Dark to its Doom.

He
could see that in her, the courage and strength and Power it would take to do
that—Sing a weapon knot loose, bond with other women and meld their Songs
together to rid a world of an evil being.

She
looked toward him where he stood in the deep shadows, watching. He didn’t think
she could see him, but she’d heard his Song, just as he heard hers. That
intricate Song that was as utterly beguiling as the scent of her skin, the
ripple of her laughter.

So
he stepped from the shadows into the firelight and she glanced up at him with a
smile…then stilled.

If
she’d shown fear he wouldn’t have touched her, but her gaze warmed and her
smile curved and deepened into that of a woman looking at a man she wanted to
touch her.

He
was lost.

With
the measured step he’d learned after his wild days—days that were flickering in
his mind about how to take and love a woman rough—he came to her. Grasped her
arms and lifted her from her feet until her face was even with his.

She
deserved tender and gentlemanly.

He
feared he’d give her rough and wild.

While
he fought for control, she pressed her lips against his and sent her breath
into him and he shuddered with need. Her tongue swept his lips and he opened
his mouth and her taste was that of rich sweet cream.

He
swung her into his arms, and trusting his feet to be sure while his mind was
spinning, he took her into the tent. He didn’t stop at the spareness of his
space but went into the luxury he’d brought for her—the thick rug, the plump
pillows, the small feather mattress all bespelled to inviting softness.

There
he laid her down.

That
was the last bit of gentleness between them.

They
fought off each other’s clothes, panting, moaning. He might have sworn at a
stubborn buckle, then it was open. Her hands clutched his shoulders, kneading
deep into muscle, and his explored the texture of smooth woman and silky hair.

They
came together as if they’d always fitted to each other, mated, and the ride was
wild, her Song spiraling them high, matched with his, until they flamed
together and he was consumed.

He
lay atop her, not wanting to move, knowing he was heavy on the smaller woman,
but he could barely put two thoughts together, let alone command his muscles.

She
purred, nipped at his biceps, and bliss shot through him and he shuddered
again.

“Much
better,” she said in a husky voice carrying the Exotique accent, “than sleeping
alone, with you near.”

He’d
only be able to grunt, so he said nothing.

Then
with a satisfied hum she rolled them over until he was pressed into the
mattress and she was atop him and having her breasts and soft body settle into
him so wonderfully it was near pain.

“We
won’t sleep apart again, will we, Luthan?”

He
had to find his voice. His arms tightened around her. “We might never sleep again.”

She
chuckled and it tugged every nerve in his body.

“I’ve
wanted this since we’ve met.” She propped her arms on his chest, her voice came
above him.

He
realized his eyes were closed and he needed to see her. Fabulous woman,
beautiful sparkling eyes, cheeks with a hint of rose, lush mouth. His mind went
blank again, but he managed to say, “Me, too.”

She
wriggled atop him and all sensation centered back to his sex, which rose. “No,”
he said, putting his hands on the globes of her bottom, loving the roundness,
the texture. “No sleep tonight.”

But
they did. They slept and dreamed. Together.

He
walked in a smooth tunnel of rock, holding her hand. Beneath them was the
rumble of molten earth and the stench of evil. Outside he could hear fighting,
Marshalls and Chevaliers and volarans battling monsters. Screams of pain and
dying. Shrieks of mindless fury.

Jikata
blinked and looked around her. “What is this place?”

32

H
e looked down at
the woman and was blinded by her physical beauty, then heard nothing but her
wondrous Song. “You know where we are, and you really should read the
Lorebooks,” he said mildly.

She
tilted her head. “I think they would be too fearful all at once.”

He
considered, nodded. “Maybe.”

“I
would rather you tell me bits as I ask.”

“Done,”
he said, then shook his head. The woman was Powerful enough to receive
prophecies anywhere on Lladrana and draw him into them with her.

They
came to an opening that was one of several around a huge cavern within the
mountain.

She
frowned. “What
is
this?”

“The
volcano of the Dark’s Nest.” Outside the mountain, the human voices became lost
in monsters’ roars. A liquid chuckle rose from the depths. Jikata shivered.
Luthan moved until he was at her back, his arms wrapped around her.

“I
know that sound,” she said. “The evil leech on Amee.”

“Ayes.”
He hadn’t thought of it that way, but it was apt.

“Is
this the future or the now?” she asked.

He
turned his head away so his senses weren’t lost in her, focused, saw the
wavering atmosphere. “Future,” he said, though he should have known. No humans
were on the mountain tonight…this morning?

Voices
lifted in excitement, triumph and glee came barreling toward them. He
recognized Alexa’s. Before he could draw breath, they flashed past him…the
Exotiques, grouped together, flying on the gong. On their way to the last
confrontation.

“I
must join them.” Jikata strove to break his grip, jump into the cavern, into
the dark depths.

An
ominous silence came from outside the mountain. He should be there, lending his
arm to the fight.

He
dropped his arms, let her loose. “Ayes, go.”

She
jumped with a battle cry.

“I’ll
follow,” he said, and did….

Luthan
woke up gasping for air, drew clean cool breaths that soothed his lungs from
the hot rancid air in the dream.

The
night breeze fluttered the outer flap of the pavilion that had come undone.
Outside came the rustles of volarans, and the physical/mental sound of Equine
conversation, with the feycoocus, softly calling him.

Jikata
was wrapped in his arms, skin to skin. Her personal Song gentle waves,
dreamless.

Not
in the Dark’s Nest. Not.

Had
not lost Jikata.

His
cold sweat dried.

That
was in the future.

 

J
ikata awoke to
Chasonette tugging on her hair. It was still dark. Luthan wasn’t near and she
felt a pang of disappointment. “What?”

Luthan
says time to get up.

Jikata
would have stared at the bird, but couldn’t see her in the dark. Could hear
her, and smell the lavender scent of her wings.

She
shoved herself sleepily to her elbows, then to her feet. If Luthan were waking
her so early then it was important, but all the minds around her held
excitement so nothing bad had happened.

Luthan
was outside packing and a glance at his space told her it was bare. Humming a
little spell light she went to the corner of the tent where a waterskin hung
from a peg. There was also a collapsible canvas basin and a sponge for a quick
clean-up. The sponge was already damp and held the faintest hint of Luthan.
Memories of their passion heated her.

It
had been a while since she’d had sex. There’d always been a sex buddy around.
Now that she thought about it, she’d most often enjoyed herself with her sound
engineer. He’d been clean, good in bed, and had no expectations of her.

He’d
have gone wild here on Lladrana, she almost pitied him back on Earth.

This
night with Luthan had been more than sex. How much more she wasn’t sure, but
what she had learned in the days she’d spent with him was that they had many
things in common, something she wouldn’t have guessed. Her feelings for him
were unusually strong. They’d see where it went.

When
she reached for her jeans and a shirt, Chasonette whistled a sharp negative.
Flying
leathers today.

After
she was dressed, she tossed her head, Sang a little tune to arrange her hair
just the way she wanted, and was pleased she could do that with Power instead
of brush and comb or hours under the stylist’s hands.

The
moment she stepped from the tent, it opened up at the top and collapsed around
their things—her things. Both volarans were saddled.

Luthan
simmered with anticipation, exhilaration, and she had to smile. She went over,
twined her arms around his neck, pressed her body against his and kissed him
soundly, then raised her head and said, “Good morning.”

His
eyes gleamed brighter now than before. He brushed a kiss on her lips. “Wonderful
morning.”

When
she stepped away, she felt his reluctance and that pleased her. “What’s going
on?” She helped pack her room and roll up the tent in bundles that seemed too
small.

“There’s
an event that is taking place you won’t want to miss—
none
of us want to
miss.” He raised a hand as she opened her mouth, his own was curved. “You’ll
enjoy the surprise more.” He turned to her bags and with a flick of his fingers
had them settling on the volarans. The ties whipped themselves into excellent,
practical knots.

“We’ll
be flying far, using Distance Magic.” He checked the bags and the volaran tack
again, opened a new pouch that hung on her volaran. Chasonette flew to the top
of the stiffened leather, then lowered herself into it until only her curious
head with gleaming eyes showed.

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