Harbinger (23 page)

“The Triad,” Danvier mused. “I like the sound of that.”

“As do I.” Letos nodded. “Having only three members will keep the power balanced, yet increase the chances that the Triad will actually be able to accomplish something.”

“Your representative doesn’t need to be chosen today,” Danvier told him. “All we require is a commitment to the concept before we move forward with the next stage.”

Letos rested his mug on his leg as he asked, “Which is?”

“High treason.” The word hung heavy in the air for one tense moment before Danvier clarified. “The old regime must be destroyed before the new one can be assembled. If the steering committee is committed to the Triad, the battle born will take the next step.”

Letos raised his mug and waited for the others to do the same, “To high treason.”

They all drank, but Haven’s stomach knotted around the tepid liquid.

“Unfortunately, I can’t give you a final decision today. Though I’m cautiously optimistic, two of our members weren’t available just now and something like this must be unanimous.”

“What about Harbinger Guild?” Danvier asked, clearly frustrated by the delay. Garin wanted this settled ASAP. “Must this wait until they’ve appointed the next Pyre Sterling? That could take months.”

“No,” Letos assured him. “We’re prepared to make the decision without Harbinger Guild. They tend to vote for neutrality regarding anything political. As long as the rest of the guild masters agree, we will empower the Triad and agree to abide by whatever decisions they make.”

Danvier set down his mug with a distracted nod. “I suppose we can wait around for a day or two. But please understand that Garin would very much like to take advantage of the uncertainty surrounding the recent deaths of the two guild leaders. People are restless and ready for change. We can’t allow them to fall back into familiar routines or we lose momentum.”

“Understood.” Letos stood and the other two did the same. He shook Haven’s hand and bowed to Danvier. “I’ll return with the final answer as soon as I possibly can.” Without giving them an opportunity to reply, he disappeared.

* * * * *

With hate boiling in her blood, Milanni waited for Fyran’s hold on her neck to loosen so she could get up. He’d walked into the cargo bay a few minutes ago and casually bent her over the nearest table. Then he threw her skirt up to her waist and used her like a whore, in plain view of her girls, their customers, and the guards.

In the two days since she proposed her mission to steal the full-human formula, Fyran had been cruel and uncaring. Not that he’d been particularly tender before, but something had changed. The tenuous hold she’d once held over her master was gone. Something in her proposal had enraged him and now she was a space pet, like all the others.

His hurtful fingers finally released and she slowly pushed up off the tabletop, feeling dirty and degraded. It was bad enough that he treated her with contempt in private. This undermined her authority with her girls. She threw down her skirt and smoothed her hair, refusing to let him see her devastation.

“Feel better?” She looked into his eyes, brows raised in silent challenge.

“Much.” He smirked and she wanted to slap him. Badly. “Which one of these sluts is going with you?”

Her heart skipped a beat. Did that mean he was accepting her proposal? She was afraid to let herself hope, afraid to believe that anything good could come from Fyran.

How had she ever thought of this bastard as kind? His transformation from soft-spoken lieutenant to craven, power-hungry commander had been staggering.

“Well?” he sounded impatient.

Who was she taking with her? That was what he’d asked. “Nicole.” She motioned toward the mouthy troublemaker with one of her still trembling hands. Nicole had claimed that death was better than making her body available to these men. Well, she was about to find out if her words were true. They needed the battle born to believe that she was on death’s door for this plan to work.

“Of course. The damsel in distress that started all this.” He motioned one of his men toward Nicole. “Bring her to me.”

The human kicked and twisted, fighting the guard every step of the way.

“Have you told her what’s in store for her?” Fyran looked the human over before turning back to Milanni. His smug little smile was back, as was the urge to slap him.

She shook her head. “I didn’t see the point in explaining anything until you decided if you were going to accept my offer.”

“What offer? What have you done?” Nicole cried out in exasperation as all her struggles still left her within the guard’s firm grasp. “I won’t make a deal with these bastards. The only thing I want from them is my freedom.”

Fyran turned on her, gaze flashing. “This could lead to your freedom. There’s just some unpleasantness in between. Well, unpleasant for you anyway.” He wiggled his eyebrows at the guard. “I suspect he’ll enjoy it.”

“She’ll never stop fighting,” Milanni predicted. “That’s why she’s perfect for this.”

Fyran motioned two more of his men toward him, an evil gleam in his eyes. “You three have two hours to enjoy these two females in any way you care to use them.”

Milanni gasped “Wait! Why are you—”

He silenced her with a vicious backhand. “You agreed to this. In fact you
suggested
it.”

“I agreed to pose as an escaping prisoner. I never agreed…” He raised his hand again and her words trailed away.

“We have to sell it, remember.” His expression was coldly mocking. “If you show up squeaky clean and unharmed, they’ll never believe you were desperate enough to cross me.”

She covered her mouth with her hand as tears gathered behind her lashes. Tension banded her chest so tightly she could barely breathe. He was right. She’d brought this on herself by thinking it was all right to subject Nicole to more brutality.

“This one,” Fyran shoved Milanni toward the nearest guard, “needs to be able to walk when you’re finished with her. But that one,” he pointed to Nicole, “needs to be barely alive—but alive.”

The guard’s hand twisted the back of Milanni’s hair as he dragged her toward him, but all she could see was the burning hate in Nicole’s bright green eyes.

A literal tempest pounded the cabin off and on for the next three days. There was plenty of firewood and a well-stocked kitchen, so Haven tried to relax and enjoy the time with Danvier. They spent the days chatting by the fire or exploring the passion smoldering between them. And each night, they slept in each other’s arms. Haven had never been so content and yet so restless. The negotiation remained unsolidified, and Letos had still given them no clue how much longer he expected them to wait. But that wasn’t what was bothering her.

Despite their frequent and varied bouts of lovemaking, Danvier never again mentioned his need to claim her, at least not out loud. His emotions assured her that his mating hunger still burned, yet he seemed to have accepted her need to keep things relatively casual. The problem was, she was no longer content with casual. Each time they touched and each hour they passed with no one around but each other, proved that their personalities and ambitions were well suited for a long-term relationship.

She’d surprised him with homemade pasta for dinner on the third night, so he’d insisted on doing the dishes. She’d tried to finish the mystery novel she’d found in the bedroom, but her mind was too distracted to unravel the clues.

Setting the digi-doc aside, she crossed to the kitchen and leaned her shoulder against the half wall separating the two rooms. He stood at the sink, drying the last few dishes. With his long sliver braid hanging down his back and a flexblade strapped to his thigh, he looked anything but domesticated.

“Did you finish your book?” He glanced at her as he set the dried plate on the counter.

“I still have a few chapters to go.”

“Miss me?”

A sarcastic retort popped into her mind, but instead she whispered, “Always.”

He set the towel aside as well and turned to face her. “I was starting to worry that you’d get bored with nothing but me to entertain you.”

“Never.” She offered him a hesitant smile, feeling strangely vulnerable. “You’re anything but boring. Besides, I’ve been thinking.”

“Have you now? Good things or—”

An alarm blared and every light in the cabin increased to full intensity. “Perimeter breach, zone three,” a computerized voice warned.

Danvier’s head snapped to the side and his phitons gleamed like liquid silver. He pulled the flexblade out of its bracket as he crossed the kitchen. “Did you pack a weapon? I sense more than one.”

Trepidation fisted her stomach. “It’s in my bag.” She rushed into the bedroom, quickly locating the compact pulse pistol. Why hadn’t she sensed the danger? This was so strange.

When she returned to the living room, Danvier stood to one side of the picture window that dominated the outer wall of the cabin. The heavy drapes were drawn, but he pulled back the edge so he could peek out into the darkness. “I can’t see them, but I know they’re out there.”

“Can you tell how many?”

He didn’t answer and she was about to repeat the question when he muttered something in a language she couldn’t understand. If the language was “sacred”, was he speaking with another harbinger?

As if to answer her question, he smiled. “Relax,” he motioned toward her gun. “They’re harbingers. They just pinged me.”

How had harbingers located the cabin? Stupid question. How did harbingers learn anything?

“Can you deactivate the alarm?” He put away his flexblade.

She nodded as he left the kitchen. Then she tucked her weapon into the back of her pants and ran to the cabin’s master control panel in the central hallway. After resetting the perimeter grid, she hurried to the living room.

Danvier stood beside the front door, slowly pulling it open. “I should leave you standing there in the rain.”

As if to reinforce his decision, lightning forked out across the sky and a loud crash of thunder vibrated the floor.

She couldn’t see who he was speaking to, but his demeanor was no longer guarded. He just seemed angry.

“May we come in?” The voice belonged to a man, but it sounded thin and gravely, as if the speaker was elderly.

Concerned now, she moved to Danvier’s side and gasped. Three soaking-wet harbingers huddled on the front porch, crowding beneath the eves to avoid the deluge. All three were male and two were well past their prime.

“What is wrong with you?” She shouldered Danvier aside and opened the door.

The soggy harbingers rushed past her and headed straight for the fire. Their tunics were literally dripping, as was their long silver hair. Without pausing to chastise Danvier for his inconsiderate behavior, she ran into the bathroom and grabbed a stack of towels.

“Why are you here?” Danvier’s voice snapped so loudly she heard him in the bathroom. Was this personal or had the events of his past left him hating all other harbingers? “You must know I want nothing to do with Harbinger Guild.”

The oldest harbinger took a towel and smiled at her before responding to Danvier. “You cannot hold us responsible for Pyre’s behavior. She was a tyrant, Danvier. You have no idea—”

“And an entire guild full of harbingers was powerless to stop her?” Bitterness made his words sound brittle.

She passed out the other towels then placed her hand on Danvier’s forearm. “Why don’t we let them warm up for a bit before we—”

“They don’t need to warm up.” He twisted his arm away from her hand, hostile gaze locked on their uninvited guests. “They’re going right back out in the rain.”

“No they’re not.” Tired of his rudeness, she pushed him back a step. “We’re all adults here. We can have a civilized conversation, even if we don’t agree.”

He finally looked at her and his gaze felt like a slap. “They were there the night my father died and neither of them lifted a finger to help him. They just stood there and let it happen.”

“I wasn’t there,” the young one objected.

“Your father was.”

She grabbed Danvier’s arm and dragged him into the kitchen. With only a half wall to separate the two rooms, the kitchen wasn’t really private, but it would do for a quick conference. “Who are they? And why are you so angry?”

His brows gathered into a speculative frown. “You don’t recognize them?”

She glanced into the living room, but the harbingers now huddled around the hearth, their backs to her. “Should I?”

“That’s Lisden and Phardin.”

His mentors. “Of course.” They looked much older and more haggard than they had in his memories. “You said without Pyre’s influence, they’d be good men.”

“Didn’t you hear what I just said? They stood there like cowards and watched Pyre murder my father.”

So it was intensely personal. If what he said was true, shunning them might be justified. Still, life was seldom so cut and dry. “There could be an explanation. Maybe she had something on them. Have you ever asked them why they didn’t try to help you?”

He made a dismissive sound. “Everyone at the academy died to me the day my father passed beyond.”

“At least ask the question.” She gently pushed him toward the other room. “I’m going to make
civata
brew. Warm them up from the inside out.”

She quickly placed her order with the beverage station then watched Danvier through the opening above the half wall.

He stopped well back from them, resentment apparent in every muscle of his body. “My mate wants to know why you didn’t try to help my father or me.”

She shook her head. Stubborn to the bitter end.

The eldest harbinger moved forward, hands folded in front of him. “We didn’t know what to think. Pyre insisted that your father was an abusive lunatic who was trying to steal
her
children. His behavior had been erratic and secretive. It wasn’t until she stabbed him that we realized how horribly wrong we were.”

“And how evil she was,” the other elderly harbinger added. “It was the first time we saw the real Pyre Sterling, but she was ever-present after that.”

Danvier said nothing, but his stance was still tense, aggressive. And the transfer link was shut down tight. He did not want her in his mind.

Moving to the half wall, Haven drew their guests’ attention. “Being that my mate is too surly right now to introduce us, I’m Haven Tandori.”

The oldest harbinger crossed to the other side of the wall. “I’m Lisden and this is my brother, Phardin. That young rascal is our nephew Barr.” The other two crossed their chests with their arm and bowed in her direction. “When we learned that Danvier had finally returned to Rodymia, we had to speak with him.”

Finally returned? She looked at Danvier, curiosity narrowing her gaze. “How long has it been since you were here?”

“Actually on the planet?” She nodded, so he admitted, “Almost twenty years.”

“We understand why you stayed away, but everything has changed,” Lisden insisted. “Harbinger Guild is the only guild that doesn’t have a guiding council. The strongest female becomes a dictator and only another female is strong enough to challenge her. We all hoped that Chandar would break the cycle, but she was whisked away before we could—”

Danvier lunged toward Lisden, hands tightly fisted. “If you want to remain conscious, you will not mention Chandar again.”

“But she’s the reason we’ve come.” The pleading quality in Phardin’s tone perfectly matched his disheveled appearance. “Only Pyre Sterling can make changes to our charter, and only an organic female can become Pyre Sterling. She’s our last hope.”

The beverage station dinged, indicating it was ready to dispense her order. Rather than risk leaving Danvier alone with the others in his current mood, she put the machine on standby and left the kitchen.

“If you honestly think Chandar cares at all what happens to your precious guild, you’re deluded.”

She hurried to Danvier’s side and slipped her arm through his. “I have to agree with him on that one, gentlemen. Chandar has begun a new life and it’s highly unlikely she’ll ever return to Rodymia.”

“She wouldn’t have to return,” Lisden stressed. “We just need her to become Pyre Sterling long enough to change the charter and set us free from the tyrannical customs. We know the steering committee is negotiating without us, but we want to be part of the alliance. We want to help shape the future, but we’re trapped in the past.”

“If you abolish the existing customs, what will you replace them with?”

Danvier’s question surprised her. Little by little his anger was fading as his curiosity engaged.

“We’ll establish a guiding council just like all the other guilds. We understand how backward we seem to them and in many ways we agree.”

“But,” Barr spoke for the first time, coming out from behind his uncles. “There are many in our guild still faithful to the past, many who fight even the simplest change. We all feel that this transition would be accepted more easily if certain elements of the old customs remained.”

“Meaning?” Danvier crossed his arms over his chest and growled out the word.

“If one of Pyre’s children were to head the council, it would seem as if the old customs had evolved rather than being disregarded entirely,” Lisden explained.

“I told you, neither of us has any interest in returning to the academy.”

Wisely, Lisden didn’t argue. “Will you at least ask Chandar if she would be willing to help us? Without her help we have no hope of modernizing Harbinger Guild.”

After a tense pause, Danvier said, “I’ll ask her, but I suggest you look for another solution.”

Lisden accepted the decision with a stiff nod. “We won’t take up any more of your time. Thank you for seeing us.”

“You are not leaving until this rain lets up,” Haven cried.

Danvier glared at her. “It’s been raining for three days.”

“I don’t care. They’re going to dry out and have something warm to drink. If it’s still raining then, they’ll spend the night. Two of them can sleep in the guest room and the third can sleep on the couch.”

“That’s really not necessary, Ms. Tandori,” Phardin said with a warm smile. “Our ship is not well concealed. We don’t want to risk drawing attention to this area.”

“You’ll at least have something warm to drink.” Without waiting for their answer, she headed back to the kitchen.

“Just give in,” Danvier advised. “She’s the most stubborn female I’ve ever encountered.”

At Haven’s insistence, the three visiting harbingers moved into the kitchen and sat around the small round table. Danvier loitered in the archway, silently watching her. She returned to the beverage station and reactivated the machine. Then she gathered mugs while it completed its cycle. She’d forgotten how much she enjoyed playing hostess and how isolated she’d been while she was mated to Javin.

“Have you two been mated long?” Barr’s expression was open and curious as she handed him a steaming mug of
civata
brew.

Haven looked at Danvier, not sure what to say.

“I’ve not yet claimed her,” he admitted. “Though I have every intention of doing so.”

Barr’s smile turned knowing, but he wisely kept his gaze on Danvier.

Haven cringed. Barr might be a harbinger, but he was still a Rodyte male in his prime. Doubtlessly, Danvier’s scent was all over her.