Heart Quest (26 page)

“You can only work with what you are given. And in this instance you were given nothing.” He handed the boy the water again and watched him sip. “You're very mature for your age, but you aren't a deity. You aren't all-knowing, all-seeing. You're a boy, a human being. You won't
see
events. Or you'll misinterpret what you
see
. It's human nature. So get accustomed to it.”

They stared at each other for several breaths and Vinni's eyes stayed the hazel hue. “Thank you.” He took a deep breath, then another. “There isn't a good victim for the killers—Noble with great, unstable Flair, having problems during their Second Passage. But there is…there is someone….”

“You?” Ilex asked gently.

Drinking, Vinni shook his head. He finished the draught and wiped his hand across his mouth. “No. I won't have Passages. My Flair will grow, but…” He shrugged. “I just won't. Passages are not for me in this lifetime. My Flair will always be under control and stable.”

“Who then?”

Vinni licked his lips. “My HeartMate, Avellana Hazel.”

Ilex stilled to immobility. “She's only five.”

“Yes,” Vinni said, and his voice had risen to a squeak again. “She had a head injury when she was three. Her Flair will be unstable until we HeartBond.” He waved. “Many years in the future. If she lives through her Passages.” He turned now-dark-blue eyes to Ilex. “Her Flair is stronger than mine. She is the perfect victim. Little. Female. Has a Fam. I wish I hadn't convinced her to get a Fam.”

“Have you told the Hazels?”

“They won't listen to me. Not me as Vinni. They'll listen to you.”

“I'll make sure they take Avellana away from Druida.”

Vinni relaxed a little. “Good. You have many links with the FirstFamilies—distant relative of the Hollys, HeartMate of Trif Clover, who is connected to the Blackthorns. You know Straif Blackthorn well, refused to kill Captain Elder, worked with T'Ash.” Vinni nodded. “They'll listen to you.” He bit his lower lip. “Will you tell the Hazels now? While I'm here?”

“Yes.” Ilex went to sit behind his desk and Vinni took the visitor's chair.

“D'Hazel Residence,” Ilex said. “Request communication with D'Hazel herself. Guardsman Ilex Winterberry.”

The GreatLady appeared above the scrybowl. “Here,” she said. She looked strained. Ilex wondered how many of the FirstFamilies were secretly overwhelmed by the case.

“Greetyou, GreatLady.”

“What do you want?” It wasn't like her to be rude.

“I have been informed of a threat to your daughter.”

“Avellana, our Avellana?” she gasped.

“Yes. And you may have heard that I have certain presentiments.”

“Yes! We'll go away. Today.”

“Before Samhain.”

“At once. We'll leave at once,” she said, and the scrybowl water rippled as she ended the spell.

Head tilted, Vinni looked at Ilex. The boy seemed much more in control. “Now for the second reason I came to you.”

“Yes?”

“I want to be bait.”

“What!”

“That's the best way to stop these killings.” His young face set in grim lines. “No one knows the consistency of my Flair. We can spread the word that it's unstable.” He tapped the corner of one eye. “My eyes change, so people think my Flair is irregular. It's not. I haven't lost control of it for two years.”

“I don't think—”

Vinni went on persuasively. “They'll underestimate me. No one knows the limits of my Flair.”

“They'll drug you, and they may
overestimate
the dosage.”

“I want to do it. I insist.”

Ilex leaned forward. “Do you? And have you had a foreseeing of
this
?”

At his words, Vinni's eyes glazed—and became gold green. A vision was upon him.

Softly, softly, Ilex said, “And do you see success for this action of using yourself as bait?”

Vinni trembled violently.

Ilex sprang from his desk and caught the boy close.

Colors, shapes, rushed by him—the blackness of the night sky and hurtling stars, twinmoons so bright they hurt his eyes, red of fury, piss-yellow terror.

Both of them shook; then the vision passed and feeling uncommonly weak, Ilex placed Vinni back in the chair, then tossed him a softleaf to wipe his perspiring face, as Ilex did himself. Keeping himself well in hand, Ilex said, “So?”

Rubbing his face with the softleaf, Vinni blew out a breath. “You didn't get that?”

“No, thank the Lady and Lord.”

A crafty look came over Vinni's face.

“Don't even think about lying. I've been a guardsman for many years. You can't lie to me.”

His shoulders sagged a little. “Guess not.” Then he frowned. “I didn't get it all either, but…me being bait is
right
.” He glanced up, his eyes hazel. “I will come to no harm.
This I know.
” Leaning back, he crossed his arms, as if challenging Ilex to disbelieve him.

The images of Vinni's vision had been couched in the symbolism that specifically spoke to the boy. Yet from what Ilex had felt, nothing in the vision indicated danger to Vinni. The emotions of fury and terror had surrounded the young Lord, but had not been his or threatened him.

“What of your Fam?” Ilex asked. “That housefluff has been traumatized enough.”

Vinni licked his lips. “I've thought of that. I found a regular housefluff that looks like my Fam.” He glanced away, and Ilex received a clear throb of love between Vinni and his Fam. “It will not be good for the housefluff, but it won't be as terrifying as it would be for my Fam. And people don't always recognize when a housefluff is a Fam.”

“You are a minor,” Ilex said.

“I
am
a GreatLord.” He uncrossed his arms and threw his shoulders back.

“Your Family guards—” Just as Ilex said that, a pounding came on the door.

“Guardsman Winterberry!” Chief Sawyr roared. “There are several guards wearing T'Vine colors here to see you—and the GreatLord.”

Vinni sighed. “They found me. They always find me too soon.”

Ilex tapped his fingers on his desk. “I think we can work with them.” He smiled. “I know a couple. If they weren't your Family, they'd be Druida guardsmen.”

“We can do it?”

“We need to do something. Let's see what we can put together.”

A
s usual these days, Ilex had pushed himself as hard as
possible, used up most his Flair, and returned home very late. He was weary, but his step still lightened when he entered MidClass Lodge and knew Trif awaited him. He glanced at his wrist timer and made up his mind. It wasn't too late for a romantic dinner. Hurrying into his apartment, he chanted the verses that would set the stage for him to show Trif how much he cherished her.

When he was finished with a brief stand under the waterfall and dressing in casual trous and tunic, he entered the mainspace. A slight illusion spell had transformed his ordinary furnishings into priceless antiques—a Funchal carved dining table of gleaming reddwood, with a shimmering cloth and napkins of silkeen gold. Pale green celedon china plates and transparent green wineglasses stood on the table, perfect.

At that moment Trif rapped on his door. He smiled at her usual impatience. With a Word, he lit a fat green candle that smelled like clover.

He opened the door and stepped back with a wide gesture for her to come in. “I'll have dinner ready in a moment,” he said, enjoying the way her eyes widened and mouth dropped. He closed the door and took her hand. “My lovely Trif.” He kissed her fingers.

“What…what is this?”

He stiffened. “I know I haven't shown you much tenderness or romance. It's exactly what it seems, a dinner for two. I don't see Greyku.”

“Hmmm? Oh, she and your Fam are exploring the beach. She heard from Zanth last night that if a cat is quick and cunning, she can catch sand burrowers, which are apparently quite tasty. She enjoyed hunting last night and wants more.” Slowly, Trif turned around, staring at the windows, which now had glowing murals painted on them in rich hues, then at the set table and candle.

“I didn't want to waste that champagne we never tasted last night,” he said, drawing her further into the room and tasting her wrist, the inner skin of her elbow that held her flavor, the curve of her neck.

“Ilex.” She sighed his name and she felt her simple pleasure in being romanced—and an undertone of sparkling anticipation that made his body go hot and hard.

“You are so beautiful.” So young. So fresh.

“No, I'm n—that is, thank you.”

“You're very welcome. And it's the truth.”

“I'm not dressed for this.” She swept a hand down her body, and Ilex barely noted the old, soft, shapeless robedress. Instead, he saw her high, round breasts, her full hips.

“You're perfect.”

She laughed and patted his cheek. He liked how her fingers lingered a bit before she stepped back. “No, I'm not, and you know it.”

He took both her hands. “In this moment, there is nothing more perfect to me than you.”

Her smile trembled on her lips, her lashes lowered, but he thought he saw the sheen of moisture. “Thank you,” she said.

Kissing one of her hands, then the other, he led her to the table and seated her. He went into the kitchen and pulled the champagne bottle from the cooler. It had had time to settle a little and would be all the better for that. He poured the wine in her glass, his own. “To—” Why hadn't he thought of the damn toast before? To love? They loved, but it would not last. To HeartMates? That was true, but a conflict between them. To life? Both of them knew how short he expected his own to be. He kept a smile on his face, clinked her glass gently. “To tonight.”

She picked up the wineglass with an unsteady hand. “To tonight,” she barely whispered.

He turned back to the no-time and opened the heated-foods section, pulling out a platter with slices of roasted turkey, covered in rich gravy, all of it steaming. Another dish held mixed vegetables. He placed them on the table and sat opposite her, noticed her glass was half empty. “Do you like the wine?”

“It is the best I've ever tasted.”

“I think Vinni T'Vine is quite expert already in his field.”

Her fork stilled on the way to her mouth. “In prophecy?”

“In knowing wine.” He did
not
want to talk about premonitions.

She nodded and finished her bite. “Hmmm. This is wonderful. Did you make it?”

“No, I've had the meal for a while, awaiting a special occasion. Tonight I wanted things to be…very special…between us.” Until he said that, he didn't realize that he was sure he would not live another full month. No need to tell her. He wished he had even better food to serve her.

The evening passed in a dream for Trif—the best night of her life, and she fully intended for the rest of the dark hours to be full of rapture and ecstasy with Ilex.

They loved with tenderness and care, gentle touches and long, quiet sighs, until the last moment, when they held on tight to each other and climaxed together.

Throughout the night he'd turn to her, need in every movement, or she'd lie awake and watching him in the moonslight, stroking him.

Each time she'd crafted the HeartBond and thrown it to him, his shields had gotten taller and stronger…and their connection had shrunk. A few more times and they'd be little more than casual lovers.

And each time she became more and more enraptured with him…losing herself in him, wanting nothing but him. It was frightening.

By the morning, her heart had filled with tears yet when he reached for her, she couldn't deny him.

The sun rose and the colors of dawn filtered into the room, tinting the white walls with pale pastels of the glow. As the light grew stronger, so did her love. The love that she'd confessed but he had never spoken of. His hands were on her, bringing her mindless joy, arousing her with a few caresses of skillful fingers until she needed, needed, needed. Like he was an addiction.

He thrust into her and flung his head back on an orgasmic cry. He
gave
to her, his seed and his unaddicted love, and the whirlwind of his climax swept her away into her own until she shattered—and flung out the HeartBond.

Once again, he did not grasp it, did not want it. He loved her, and she
felt
that, but he did not accept the whole of her. He would not merge with her in all ways. Even as she gasped out her own transcendental passion, a tiny core of her wept in rejection and withdrew from him.

Ilex rolled and took her with him, holding her tight.

She hurt, a huge ache that filled her, that she couldn't banish any longer. And she knew. Being with Ilex was now more painful than being without him. She couldn't keep offering all of herself and being refused. He had chosen this path for them and despite all the loving between them, he had not changed his mind.

Now she knew what he had been doing the night before with the lovely dinner and the sweet lovemaking. Unconsciously, he'd been saying good-bye. From their bond, she knew he was completely certain that his death drew near—and he'd been conditioned by his visions throughout his life to believe in it. His shields were strong and deep, and she couldn't get through them, no matter how she tried. Had she been a fool to hope, deep in her heart, that he might ever let those shields down for her?

No. She'd brought the pain upon herself, but she'd had to understand that there was no changing him, not with sex, not with loving, not with their growing connection. She would have always wondered if they might have made a HeartMate marriage had she walked away earlier.

He was so strong. He would keep his shield up against her forever. She had to accept that now, that she couldn't change their circumstances, only he could. It went against her nature, to fail in a fight for what she wanted so desperately, but she had.

And she'd wanted to know what HeartMate loving was—she'd had a touch of that, had experienced sex and affection and closeness with Ilex. She was sure she wouldn't regret that in the future. When this excruciating pain that racked her went away.

They could not be together anymore. She held him, eyes as dry as her heart was empty, storing memories of the heat of him, the texture of his skin, the music of his breathing.

Finally, it was time to rise. She slipped from the bedsponge and stared down at Ilex. He'd thrown the covers off and she had a full view of his prone muscular body. Broad shoulders, tight butt, strong legs. His face was turned toward her, relaxed in sleep. Her heart jolted, then twisted as her hands clenched. She couldn't be his lover anymore, couldn't continue to be rejected. It just hurt too much.

Still, the decision caused a tremor in her nerves that rippled through her whole body.

Ilex awoke with a start, and she knew he'd felt her distress even in his dreams. His blue-gray eyes focused on her and he rolled to sit up. “What's wrong.”

“I can't anymore, Ilex.”

His jaw flexed and though his pose was still casual, tension delineated his muscles and throbbed through their bond to her. “No?” he said softly.

He'd expected this? Probably, always the pessimist.

Trif moistened her lips. Her voice still emerged raw through a dry throat. “We make love, but we—don't…” She lifted helpless hands. “We merge in body, in mind, in emotion, but you keep a shield up, not accepting the HeartBond that flies from my soul to yours.” She ended on a whisper. “I can't be with you anymore.”

He watched with an impassive gaze that told her nothing, shrank the bond between them to a filament, but his pain equaled hers. She fumbled her clothes on and went to the door of his bedroom. Glancing into the mainspace, she saw the illusion of romantic fantasy was gone.

His hands yanked the linens over his nude body and kept a fisted hold on the cover. “I told you why I won't accept the HeartBond.”

Anger flashed, and she was glad of it. She lifted her chin. “And I didn't like your reasoning, and don't now. But I pushed on anyway. My mistake.”

Inclining his head, he took a step backward. “As you say.”

The awful devastation vibrated between them, hurting him, hurting her, tearing them apart. Shattering both of them? She wrapped her arms around herself. “Can't you see that I
hurt
? I could hurt no more if you died this instant. Why must we live our lives anticipating a fate which might not come to pass?”

“Because you will
live
. You will not die. I will not be the cause of your death.” For a moment, his face showed stark pain; then he swallowed and glanced aside.

She paced forward. “I tell you, I am willing to risk your vision! You think living without you could ever be easy?” Her fist pounded her chest. “What if we HeartBonded and
I
was the one to die first?”

“Then I would welcome death,” he stated as fact. “We've had this argument before. I haven't changed my position. I. Will. Not. Be. The. Cause. Of. Your. Death.
Ever.
”

His scent drifted to her, spice and man and sex. She shuddered at all the emotions whipping through her; then the tornado stopped and left her hopeless. Only pain existed. She turned away, setting one foot in front of the other to leave. “You already have killed me inside.”

Silence hung heavy in the apartment, but the sharpness of her senses faded, dying as the candle of vitality she'd always treasured flickered and went out.

“You're young. You'll heal,” his voice rasped as she hurried to the door.

“I'll move to Clover Compound by the end of the week. Please try and avoid me like you did so well before. Grant me that much. So I can
heal
.” She didn't think she ever would. Now, with deft precision, she narrowed the bond between them to a filament. It would always be there, but she'd do her best to ignore it. As he would.

She barely made it into her rooms before a silent scream tore from her.

Her Flair spiked, out of control. She collapsed and let the vision of the past—and soldiers dying slowly in an ancient Earth war—overtake her.

She gradually emerged from the daze when Greyku started licking her face—salty with perspiration, she supposed. Blinking, she rose to one elbow and stretched, a few minor twinges from falling onto the carpet, but not many.

Greyku increased her purr and the sound innately soothed Trif. Sitting up, she scooted until her back was supported by the twoseat and Greyku hopped onto her lap.

Bad time with FamMan.

“Yes.” Her voice was hoarse. From tears? Screams? A combination of both?

Trif hurt. As much as she wanted to, she couldn't run to her family. They'd worm the whole story out of her and she couldn't bear that. What they might do to Ilex, she didn't know—but sensed some of the men, maybe her own father, would be on his side.

She ached as if she'd been hollowed out and no heart remained. She couldn't even think about playing music. How could she handle her lessons today?

Flexing her fingers, she found they reacted well. She snapped them and her tin whistle appeared on her lap next to the kitten, who grinned.