Heartmate (23 page)

Danith. He'd slept on the bedroll he'd purchased for her. He had broken a promise to her, inadvertently, but she didn't trust him in the first place. To break a promise, no matter how small, would only deepen her distrust. Damn!

“Holly!” he roared.

A full-sized holo blinked on. “Merry meet, T'Ash. I hope you feel well. No need to worry about anything—”

“Stop.”

The prerecorded holospell froze. T'Ash narrowed his eyes. Despite Holm's usual lilting tones, the image looked a little strained around the mouth, Holly's expression a trifle tense.

Zanth sniffed. It was barely a sound.
Listen to Holly. Good man.

T'Ash turned and glared at his Fam.

Zanth lifted a paw and began to lick it.

T'Ash turned back to the holo. “Go.”

“—I set major temporary spellshields to reinforce the regular ones on your Residence. It can't be breached. I also dropped by D'Mallow's—”

“D'Mallow's? Cave of the Dark Goddess. D'Mallow.”

“—and told her you were indisposed.”

“Meddler. Strolled over to make time with my woman while I was asleep.”

“—and ordered a bedroll for her. I
didn't
retrieve the HeartGift from her bedroom. Nice piece, though, what I could see of it. She looks a little frazzled. Try not to push, T'Ash.”

Holm's gray eyes seemed to focus on T'Ash. “I don't think a Passage will bring what you want, but also don't think you'll heed me, either.” The holo man shrugged. “Take care. The vial is on your desk. I left your old ring with D'Mallow. Slipped it in a bowl of stones. Her place is beginning to feel a bit like you—”

“Good.”

“—If she finds the ring, and focuses on it, she'll learn a lot, won't she?”

“Oh, Lord and Lady, too much.”

“But every little bit helps. My brother, Tinne, is restless—”

T'Ash snorted.

“—and Mamá won't be able to keep him here longer than a septhour or two after dinner. He'll be by then for his main gauche. T'Holly sends his regards. Merry meet again.” The holo vanished.

Time for food.
Zanth didn't wait for T'Ash, rudely opening the door with a FamWord and loping to the small room they used for dining.

When T'Ash entered the room, Zanth was licking his whiskers, then pressing a lever for a second helping.

T'Ash extended his senses—his cook had not been in that day, Ioho, but had left several meals, both warm and cold, in the no-time pantry. T'Ash reviewed their images and chose a thick bifuth steak, potatoes, a selection of green vegetables, and a large carafe of willem juice. It would prime him for the Passage.

“What do you want?”

T'Ash frowned. There was no such thing as too much cocoa. He stockpiled it like jewels. It was a luxury that both he and Zanth shared.

Zanth's sly tone alerted T'Ash. He raised his brows.

“You shouldn't ever eat things bigger than your head.”

“True.”

“Does she now?”

Zanth nodded and licked his chops.
Bars and drops and covered nuts and fruit, cocoadrink.

T'Ash snapped his fingers, and a large plate of soft cocoa mousse appeared. Zanth plowed into it.

T'Ash sat and summoned his own dinner, then worked his way through it without tasting, planning for the Passage and muttering spells to brace and protect himself.

As he slipped the last spoonful of cocoa mousse into his mouth and let the delicious treat melt on his tongue, Zanth jumped on the table.

T'Ash eyed him.

“It's a rule.”

“In about a septhour.”

“Thank you for returning.”

Zanth lashed his tail.
Don't like. You leave more mousse for Me.

“I will.”

“I won't die.”

“If I die, the T'Ash Residence is yours.”

“I agree.”

“Yes.”

Cat has no taste.
Smug in his superiority, Zanth left.

 
Breathing deeply, T'Ash lay naked on his back, fitting
into the trunk pattern of the Rainbow Serpent and World Tree in the HouseHeart. The mosaic floor beneath him was as warm as his body, the room was lit by a faint yellow glow. He had cast the greatest of circles, purified himself, honored the Lord and Lady. Now it was time.

He sucked the mixture from the vial. It tasted both bitter and sweet. A tang sank into his tongue that he knew was his own taste. A flavor of ripe apples—Danith's flavor—lingered.

Power whipped through him, stripping all the control he had built over years away in atoms, scattering it to the four directions, filling him with emotions, memories, and hot desire. His body roused.

He rested on the cool earth, felt the softest breath of air, the tiniest droplet from the fountain, the most minute flicker of heat of the fire.

Fire! Fire and fire and fire. Engulfed, enveloped by fire. Fire that seared the screams from him before he could voice them. Fire that exploded through him. Fire that ate his Residence. And his Family.

He jerked into a protective curl, all muscles tense. How could he have forgotten? Even the smallest detail? He remembered all, all. He cried and screamed.

His memories imploded inside him. His power and Flair spiraled wide.

A rough, wet tongue against his equally wet cheeks. Zanth.

A cold, snow-laden swirling breeze in a gray day. The Residence, his ancestors.

A small, gentle hand stroking his face. Danith.

Danith.

His years in Downwind flew at him in stunning, dreadful images. Death, decay, filth. His second passage—gleeful, wild fighting beside Holly. Plunging his aroused body in willing, wanton women. Scents of blood and fear and victory.

The vengeance stalk flashed, more fighting. Rage unleashed until he berserked. The cold FirstFamilies Guild-hall. Judging eyes. Pride. Anger. Triumph.

His last Passage—the sexual hunger, his Flair firmly fixed, chained to bedrock, channeled. Ah, Lord, the desire. He'd seen his HeartMate in one sparkling instant, felt her generosity and strength and Flair. And with trembling fingers had fashioned a HeartGift Necklace.

Danith. Danith. Danith.

His body writhed with passion. He needed her. He
reached
for her with all his might.

 
 
Something called to her. The Necklace. Slowly her wits
dissolved under the pressure of molten sensuality battering at her mental shields.

She rose as if sleepwalking and glided to the bedroom door. She flung it open. A wall of sexuality struck her, penetrated her, so real that it felt like large, strong hands drew her to the bedsponge.

She fell to her bed, her fingers claiming the necklace, clutching it between her breasts. Her vision misted until she could barely see. He was in shadow, but she knew his powerful body, his intense gaze. T'Ash.

Not Claif. Never Claif. Now she knew she could never go to Claif Clover. Only T'Ash. For an instant she wailed, then the hot desire poured through her again, banishing all thought, all feeling except passion. All desire except for learning his body, letting him learn hers.

T'Ash lowered himself to lie beside her, and the air in the room heated with his presence and his scent—hot steel and hard man. She had trouble breathing. Her throat dried with the searing desire pulsing through her blood. Her breasts swelled, their crests tightening in aching passion. Damp heat flooded her womanflesh, and she waited for his touch, her hips tilting, waited for her man, the one and only for her for the rest of her existence.

His fingertips feathered over her body and she whimpered. They weren't the calloused hands as she remembered, but they were T'Ash. He teased her with the lightness of his touch, until she hungered for his hands on her body, firm and demanding.

He pulled her atop him, and his big body encompassed her. His torso supported her body and arms, his legs, slightly spread, were solid and muscular under hers. He was everything.

Her blood beat in her ears like a hammer on an anvil, and she wanted him more than she had wanted anything in her life. She slithered down his slightly haired body until his sex touched that most needy part of her.

Now big hands curved around her hips, and with a powerful surge, he joined them. She thought she screamed with pleasure she'd never felt before, pleasure built of emotion as well as passion, but the sound never reached her ears.

She trembled, too shaken at all the tumultuous feelings inside her to move. She wanted only this man. She needed the touch of only his body. She craved the all-encompassing climax that only he could give her.

Waves of intense, pulsing sensation flowed through her until they built to unbearable heights, and whirled her tumbling into an undertow of ecstasy that went on and on and on.

He plunged into her and his power swept her away once more. She felt the throbbing of his shaft, and it was the most exquisite sensation she'd ever had.

 
 
His body arched in explosive release.

Before his breathing could even, before he lost himself once more in resurging desire, he jerked to his feet and dashed the sweat from his eyes, stumbled over to the fountain and plunged into the water, then staggered out of the pool.

With a whisk of a Word he dried himself and walked unsteadily to his old workbench. Passion filled him once more, burning his blood, pounding through him. And he mastered it, as he had once mastered Flair, and used them both, now.

Jaw clenched, he designed and cut. Shaped and hammered. Sculpted and engraved. Now and again he had to pause, to concentrate on cooling his blood, ignoring his erect flesh, conquering his lust. Then he continued.

As he worked, he chanted.

He was T'Ash. T'Ash. T'ASH!

Of the GreatHouse T'Ash. Of the Thirteen GreatHouses. Of the twenty-five FirstFamilies. Of T'Ash's Phoenix. A noble son of a noble house. Honorable. Strong. Flaired. Determined on his course. He
would
have his HeartMate.

Everything he ever was and everything he hoped he could be, he sent into the earrings and the marriage armbands.

He
reached
once more for Danith. And found her. Her soft body clung to his own, her full, round breasts against his chest, the width of her curved hips cradled his manhood.

With control he didn't know he had, he ignored both his throbbing passion and hers. He demanded her essence, and he found it. Love. Generosity. Flair. Strength.

Keeping her close, eyes barely seeing, fingers working by instinct, he melded their vibrations together into redgold knotted earrings and four redgold marriage armbands.

And when he finished, he yelled in triumph, holding the earrings and her marriage bands in his hands, his own arm bracelets around his wrists. He raised his arms and power, the power of the room, the power of his ancestors, the power of the Lord and Lady flowed through him and into the jewelry.

He staggered to the soft permamoss pallet and collapsed. Too exhausted to fight the continuing relentless psychic winds of Passage, he was sucked down. Buffeted by winds of destiny, he saw two different fates unroll before him.

Nine

His Passage opened two futures before him. In one
prospect Danith laughed with him, surrounded by children and animals. Four children, the largest Family ever for the Ash, two girls and two boys. They romped in the PlayRoom, which now looked both comfortable and gracious. The children's auras were strong and healthy, the continuation of the GreatHouse Ash assured.

Danith had matured into a confident, joyful woman, all the qualities he prized about her in full bloom. Love encompassed him, and when he met Danith's eyes, he knew they shared a HeartMate marriage that could never be equaled. She looked at him with love and passion. And he knew, if he wished, she would open her innermost soul to him, as well as her lovely body.

He strove to grasp that future. But it came no closer.

He tried to ignore the other destiny. In it his Residence towered gray and secluded in the sleet of a winter day, only one small light flickering in a massive window, all the others black with darkness. His body ached with old and new wounds, barren solitude leached all contentment from his being, and he brooded on the future, knowing he'd lost his HeartMate forever.