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Authors: Lisanne Norman

razorsedge (48 page)

BOOK: razorsedge
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* * *

 

Garras lay awake, his body cupped around Vanna's, his left hand resting on her belly, feeling its gentle rise and fall as she breathed. They'd know today, Jack had said. He was scared, part of him wanting to know, part not. He wanted these few minutes before she woke to stretch endlessly.
The rhythm of her breathing changed, became deeper as she began to surface to wakefulness. He sighed, his hand automatically caressing her, stroking the breasts that were already beginning to form.
She mumbled in her sleep, turning toward him, her face instinctively seeking his, her hands touching his neck.
"Good morning," he said, gently licking her cheek.
She mumbled something indistinct in reply and he had to laugh. "You're not awake yet, are you?"
A negative grunt was his only answer.
From beyond the door, he heard voices but before he could do more than begin to disentangle himself, a series of sharp raps on the door preceded its opening. Jack, followed by Jiszoe, strode in.
"Rise and shine!" said Jack, heading for the drapes and pulling them back to let the winter sunshine stream into the room.
Garras tried to shield his eyes. "What's going on?" he asked.
"Come on, you two slugabeds!" he boomed, striding over to them. "Wake up that pretty little wife of yours, Garras. We've brought breakfast— and something else!"
Vanna groaned, finally pushing herself up from the covers.
"Good morning, Vanna," said Jiszoe brightly, coming to sit on her side of the bed. "May the sun shine on you this morning."
"It already is," she grumbled, rubbing the sleep from her eyes and blinking in the bright spring sunlight.
Behind them hovered three of the estate younglings who were doing some work experience among the Leska households. Two carried trays groaning with food and hot drinks, the third carried a folding table.
"Don't stand there gawping," said Jack, "get the table set up, the food on it, and leave!"
"Yes, Physician!" they chorused, and within two minutes flat, they were gone, leaving first meal set out on the table which had been placed at Vanna's side.
"Good morning, Jiszoe," said Vanna, taking the robe the other female was holding out to her.
"What's going on, Jack?" demanded Garras, unsure whether to be offended or amused by their intrusion.
Jack hauled the nearest chair over and sat down beside him. "Well, it's like this," he said. "I remember what it was like when I was in a similar situation to yours, so, to save you worrying, we've brought the news to you."
"The news?" Vanna's ears swiveled round to catch every word.
Jack nodded to Jiszoe. "My Companion has a gift for you," he said. Even as he spoke, Vanna turned back to Jiszoe. Jack handed Garras a piece of paper. "And this is for you," he added.
Garras took it from him, somewhat stunned. He couldn't look at it.
"This is for you," he heard Jiszoe say. "I searched the archives with the help of Brother Ghyan. It's how the ancient Triads recorded their family history. They needed to keep a record of which male fathered which child."
"Thank you," said Vanna, her voice faint as she took the decorated hide-bound book from Jiszoe.
"Aren't you going to read it?" Jack prompted Garras.
Vanna placed the book on the bed between them. "Read it," she said.
"I can't," he said. His heart had leaped into his mouth and was pounding fit to burst.
"Would they be here if the news was bad?" she demanded. "Read it before I do!"
He snatched the paper away just in case and forced himself to read it.
"Well?" she asked. "In Vartra's name, tell me!"
"This cub's mine— ours," he said, hardly able to believe what he had read. "A daughter."
"Let me see!"
The hand that passed it to her was shaking. "Is it definite?" he asked Jack.
"Not a shred of doubt, Garras," said Jack, patting his arm. "You have the child you both wanted."
Vanna let out a whoop of pleasure and flung her arms around him. "They were right," she said, covering his face in tiny licks. "And we were wrong, thank Vartra! A cub of our own, Garras! Ours!"
"So we have." He was still somewhat stunned as he returned the embrace. He'd had such hopes for so long, and it had hurt more than he could ever let her guess to sit back and watch them disappear one by one as she had formed her Leska Link with the Human and borne his cub. It would take a while for him to get used to this.
No, it won't!
she sent, letting him go and bouncing out of bed to put on her robe.
You'll get used to it! And this time, you
will
stay and help me move the furniture!
He began to laugh. "I'll do it with pleasure," he said. "Now eat! We can't let the food our friends have brought go to waste, nor their company! You've picked at your meals too long, Vanna. I want our daughter to be healthy when she joins us, not some poor, half-starved wraith!"
Vanna picked up a piece of fruit and began eating it as she bounced back onto the bed beside him. "Yes, Garras," she said meekly.

 

* * *

 

Later that day, the new arrivals filed into the training center to join those already there from the estates. These were the people— fifty in all— from all over the continent who had the particular genes that would probably lead to them forming a Leska Link. As Vanna began the introductory talk, Garras watched his life-mate with pride. There was a new confidence about her, a glow that she'd not had when she'd carried Marak. He loved his foster son as if he were his own, but this cub, this was his first. She would be the first of several, he hoped. It was what they had both wanted before there had ever been a Brynne Stevens in their lives: to share their cubs with each other.
He looked at the sea of faces, both Human and Sholan, male and female. There was enough work for a lifetime here, helping these young adults learn to live with each other, to accept their Leska partners if Links formed, and to train them to defend themselves and their families. With Vanna and their cubs— and Brynne's— at his side, he could call himself content.
Scanning them not just with his eyes, but with his other senses, he could already pick out the potential troublemakers. There would always be those, but what would life be without a Challenge here and there?

 

* * *

 

T'Chebbi's wrist comm buzzed. She looked at Carrie and, getting a nod in reply, quietly slipped from the back of the hall. Outside, she took the call. It was Kaid.
"I've decided," he said shortly. "Bring Carrie to the Retreat for the eleventh hour. I'll have a room set aside for you as we discussed."
"What I tell her?"
"Tell her you need to visit. Or whatever you like, but bring her. And get her to put her damper on full power."

 

* * *

 

The Retreat came into view as they crested the rise. "When are you going to tell me why we've come here?" asked Kusac, flicking an ear in the building's direction.
Kaid kept on walking, heading down the slope to the side entrance. He knew Kusac would follow him.
"Kaid!"
He could hear him slithering down the icy snow-dusted trail behind him. The trick was not to walk too fast as the slope was steeper than it appeared. Kusac would either figure it out for himself, or reach the door well ahead of him. The next few seconds should tell him which. There was a muffled curse that included his name, then apart from the odd skidding noise, nothing. Until he reached the door.
"You might have waited," said Kusac, following him into the Retreat. "Why are we here?"
"I want to visit a shrine," he said, heading down the left-hand corridor till he came to the only door on his right. Stopping, he looked at Kusac. "So do you." He slapped his hand on the palm lock.
"I do?" He followed Kaid into the small chapel.
Kaid closed the door behind them. "You asked me to bring you to the Warriors' Tomb."
The room was bare save for the ubiquitous glowing brazier and a large rectangular catafalque that stood on raised steps just beyond it.
"This is the tomb."
Kusac moved closer to the stone monolith, mounting the first shallow step. Reaching out, he ran his fingertips over the carvings on the side. The battle scenes had been worked in deeply cut relief panels. As he studied them, he could see the same two warriors, fighting either side by side or covering each other's backs, present in each.
"I don't remember asking you about this," he murmured, taking the second, higher step as he moved to the longer side.
Kaid watched as he leaned across the lid to see the portraits.
"It's certainly a work of great beauty. Who were they, these warriors?"
Kaid climbed the steps in front of him, leaning across the corner to see the carved faces. "No one knows. Their names weren't recorded, but they stand for all sword-brothers."
He felt Kusac's start of surprise and when he spoke, the younger male's voice sounded a little strained.
"It's good they were buried together. Friends who shared their lives shouldn't be parted in death."
"They were more than friends. They were lovers."
He would have stepped back then, but Kaid reached out swiftly, clamping his hand over the other's arm, anchoring him to the tomb.
Kusac raised his face to Kaid's. "Surely not all sword-brothers are lovers."
"Some are, some aren't, but those who are were lovers before they swore the oath. When death runs close behind you, Kusac, the need to know you're alive can be overwhelming. If your sword-brother had risked everything for you, and needed that reassurance, what would you do?" He locked eyes with the younger male.
Kusac hesitated before answering. "I don't know, Kaid. I'd offer what I could," he said quietly.
Kaid nodded slowly. "It's enough. You had to consider it, Kusac. You needed to know
your
limits within our relationship. No one knows what can happen after the heat of battle. So swear the sword-brother's oath with me, in the name of Vartra the God, over this tomb."
The arm within his grip moved as Kusac now tried to pull free. His ears were beginning to fold back and his pupils were dilating. Caught on the edge like this, he was unprepared, and Kaid couldn't help but be aware of his thoughts. He felt trapped and once more vulnerable at the hands of this male he felt hardly knew despite their weeks of living together.
"Will you swear it with me?" Kaid demanded, tightening his grip till his claws began to penetrate. Would Kusac swear, or would he break and run?
The movements stopped. "I will," Kusac said, his voice tense.
"Then swear that from this day onward, my fight will be your fight, in battle you'll never be more than a sword's reach from my side, and that my honor you'll hold as dear as your own."
As he repeated the oath, Kusac's voice grew firmer.
"Swear also that if I'm killed, you'll not risk your lives in seeking revenge." Kaid watched a look of puzzlement cross Kusac's face. "Swear it!"
"I swear!"
"Swear it in Vartra's name!" Kaid said, pulling him closer till their faces were only inches apart.
"I swear it in Vartra's name, dammit!" There was anger creeping into Kusac's voice now, and Kaid saw his free hand begin to clench into a fist. "What will you swear in return, Kaid? What do
you
offer
me
?"
At last he'd understood that it must be an equal relationship. "I swear the same, and give myself," he said simply, opening his mind and reaching out to him with it.
The contact was immediate and totally overwhelming. Kaid realized immediately he'd made a mistake, but it was too late to pull back. As Kusac's mind merged with his, so, too, did Carrie's. Surrounded and absorbed by them both, Kaid tried to pull free.

 

* * *

 

Taken totally unaware not only by Kaid, but by his Leska's sudden presence, Kusac wasn't prepared for their Link to explode within their conjoined minds. It surged through all three of them, awakening sexual responses identical to those he and Carrie experienced on their Link days. Then images and memories began to flash through his mind at such speed he'd no chance to make sense of them. They slowed, ceasing abruptly, leaving both him and Kaid focused on Carrie. Because of the heightened sensuality, he/Kaid ached to touch her, to hold her; she felt so close that they
knew
they could touch her! The need was so strong that he/Kaid reached out for her. Moments later, the gestalt flared into being, magnifying their Talents more than threefold. Before there was time to react, Carrie had instinctively grasped control, but the energies were too much for her— and her control begin to slip.

 

* * *

 

In the small staff dining room at the Retreat, Carrie gave a cry of shock as she was suddenly swept into the Link between Kusac and Kaid. Her physical senses dulled, she staggered and would have fallen had T'Chebbi not caught her. Clinging to the female as though she was a lifeline, she couldn't move as the images from Kaid flashed through her mind, images she already had. The strength left her body and shuddering, she sagged against the Sholan female.
T'Chebbi swung Carrie up into her arms and strode over to the small settee, placing her down on it. As she tried to stand, the arms round her neck tightened, holding her there.
"Carrie," T'Chebbi said anxiously, kneeling on the floor beside her. She touched her face.
Carrie gasped at the touch, one hand instantly reaching for T'Chebbi's to remove it. "We're Linked," she moaned. "All three of us together! Oh, Gods, no!" She shuddered again. "They
both
want me!"
T'Chebbi froze. Carrie's breath was warm on her face as the Human turned her head, laying her cheek against hers.
"You smell different, feel softer," Carrie said, her voice a whisper as she began to caress T'Chebbi's fingertips and palm. "Your hand's smaller than theirs."
At her neck, Carrie's own hand was now moving slowly and sensually among the tiny braids. Drawn into the fringes of their Link, T'Chebbi could sense a little of what was happening. Kaid had been right to anticipate trouble. The normal light mental rapport that he'd said was the most the Brothers and Sisters of Vartra could achieve, had become far more— it was a total three-way Link.

 
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