Fire Pearl (Beyond Ontariese 5) (13 page)

“That still doesn’t explain it. Rodytes can’t
manipulate magic.”

She hadn’t meant to get into all this, but
the context was important. “I could be a genetic anomaly or my DNA
could have been manipulated. Or I’m a symptom of something larger,
something more insidious.”

“Such as?”

“Rodytes have been hiding the fact that they
can manipulate magic.”

Disbelief furrowed Cinarra’s brow. “What do
they gain by that?”

“Their goal has never changed. They want to
punish Bilarri for the way they were treated and regain control of
their ancestral home.”

Cinarra still didn’t look convinced. “And
Drakkin is basing all this on the fact that you possess a rare
Bilarrian gift?” She shrugged away the possibility. “He’s probably
the smartest person I’ve ever known, but that’s a serious
stretch.”

Aria didn’t take offense. Most of the stories
she’d been told since leaving Earth sounded like the paranoid
ramblings of a conspiracy freak. “I only brought all this up to
show you that it’s all connected. Vee sent Drakkin to find me
because he knew I would need a Bilarrian to awaken my gift.”

“And your magic is ‘generated and stored
during sex’, so becoming lovers was unavoidable.”

“Yes, but there’s more to it than that.”

Cinarra chuckled. “Isn’t there always.”

“I spontaneously teleported to Earth ten
months before Drakkin found me. Nearly every night of those ten
months I dreamed about him.”

“Drakkin dream-shared with you?”

“No. I don’t think Drakkin had anything to do
with the dreams. I think the images came from Vee. He didn’t want
me to be afraid of Drakkin. Vee tried to prepare me so I’d trust
and accept… It’s hard to explain.”

Pushing to her feet, Cinarra moved closer to
Aria. “No, I get it. Vee didn’t want Drakkin to seem like a
stranger when he burst into your life.”

“And it worked. I’m convinced I accepted
everything so fast because of those dreams.”

“Do
you
think you’re Drakkin’s
mate?”

Aria took a moment to answer. On some
instinctual level she knew they were connected. It just seemed
impossible that any connection could last a lifetime. Nothing
lasted forever.

She started to explain, but Cinarra held up
her hand. “It’s probably better if you don’t answer. Just think
about it. Make up your mind before tomorrow night.” Her mouth
curved but her lips didn’t part. “Besides, if he can walk away from
you, you’re not true mates. Charlotte and Tal are bonded and she’s
told me many times that the feelings she has for him are
unmistakable.”

Aria stilled but her heart continued to race.
“You think Drakkin’s bluffing?”

“I don’t know him well enough to be sure. But
if he’s convinced you’re his mate, I find it hard to believe
anything will keep him away from you.”

“Then why would he make the offer to walk
away?”

Cinarra shrugged. “He might think being free
of him is what you want.”

Aria shook her head. “I told him I don’t want
a new mentor.”

“Is that all Drakkin is to you? A
mentor?”

“No. He is…” Emotions twisted around
possibilities and she couldn’t put her convoluted thoughts to
words.

“Drakkin can’t give you what you want if you
don’t know what that is. He’s trying. That much is obvious. He
wants you to be happy.”

“I’m not sure I know what happiness is.” It
was a gross exaggeration. She’d been happy with Drakkin, she’d
allowed herself to care and then he bonded with her.

“Do you want him to walk away?”

“No.”

Cinarra reached over and squeezed her hand.
“That’s a good place to start. Now you have twenty-six hours to
figure out the rest.”

Aria gazed into the full-length mirror with a
mixture of wonder and uncertainty. Who was this person and why had
one of the most powerful men on Bilarri focused his attention on
her?

You’re a fire pearl
.
Every sorcerer
on the planet will want you to strengthen his abilities.
No,
you’re Drakkin’s mate
. She wasn’t sure which conclusion was
more disconcerting. Well, tonight she was just a woman and he was
just a man. They would laugh and dance and sip champagne, or the
Bilarrian equivalent of champagne. Then she would calmly talk
things over with him, explain the source of her conflict and see if
they could move beyond his frustrating ultimatum.

“You are pleased?” The stylist had been
patient and helpful through the entire afternoon. She had arrived
late that morning with a small army of assistants and two shuttles
full of fashion paraphernalia. Gowns and undergarments, accessories
and shoes. Aria couldn’t risk going to a boutique so Drakkin had
arranged for the boutique to be brought to her.

“It’s amazing.” Aria turned and admired the
gown from different angles. Sumptuous purple silk was overlaid by a
delicate layer of silver lace, creating a sparkling frosted effect.
The tight bodice molded to her torso and supported her breasts
while leaving her shoulders, arms and much of her back bare. Her
hair had been pulled up and arranged into a complex combination of
braids and waves.

“I’m happy you like it. Now try not to sit
down until you’ve made your grand entrance. It will wrinkle the
skirt.” She shooed Aria from the bedroom so she and her assistants
could start cleaning up.

As usual Cinarra was in the nursery with
Betaul. Aria tapped lightly on the door and Cinarra called out,
“Come in.”

She pushed the door open and stood in the
doorway, waiting for Cinarra to react.

“Wow.” Cinarra scrambled to her feet. Betaul
looked up from his pile of toys and grinned. With curly dark hair
framing his cubby face and bright green eyes, he really was
adorable. “That dress looked lovely on the hanger, but it was
clearly made for you. You’ll turn every head in the place.”

“I hope not. I want this to be about Drakkin
and me.”

Cinarra chuckled and Betaul used her leg to
pull himself to his feet. “All you’ll have to do is bat your
eyelashes at Drakkin and he’ll flash you somewhere private. There
are definite advantages to men who can teleport.”

“We have things that need to be addressed
before we’re alone together.” She watched the toddler tug on
Cinarra’s shirt and pat her thigh, trying to draw her attention.
“Is he walking yet?”

“He walks around furniture and all over the
place with his push toys, but he hasn’t actually taken his first
steps.” She gazed down at the boy with maternal pride and obvious
affection. “It won’t be long now.”

Cinarra had explained the extraordinary
circumstances surrounding Betaul’s birth and why they were hiding
out on Bilarri. Aria knew she was telling the truth, but like many
of Drakkin’s stories, the events didn’t seem real to Aria.

“Drakkin should be here soon.” She sat back
down and pulled Betaul onto her lap. He immediately squirmed away
and banged one of his toys against the floor. “You better head
downstairs.”

“I wish you were coming.”

“You don’t need a chaperone and my little man
keeps me plenty busy. Don’t you, little man?” She pulled him back
into her lap and tickled his ribs. He laughed and wiggled then
rolled away, scattering toys as he went. “Have fun.”

Cinarra waved then closed the door. Cinarra
was a wonderful mother, but Aria hoped she took Drakkin’s advice
and found some time for herself.

Needing something to do until Drakkin
arrived, Aria carefully made her way downstairs. A bookcase nestled
in one corner of the living room. She perused the titles, intrigued
by Cinarra’s eclectic taste in literature.

“Are you ready to go?” Drakkin asked from
behind her.

Whirling around in a flurry of skirts, she
barely managed to conceal her gasp.

Drakkin moved toward her, his gaze sweeping
her from head to toe. “You are so beautiful it’s painful to look at
you.”

She rolled her eyes at the lavish compliment,
but heat spread across her cheeks. “You look rather nice yourself.”
His casual clothing had been replaced by a tailored suit. The
jacket was solid black while the pants had a faint stripe in dark
gray. A stark white shirt contrasted nicely with his purple tie and
an elaborate crest decorated the upper left side of the jacket. She
reached out and straightened his tie, though it didn’t need the
adjustment. “We coordinate.”

“That was the idea.” Desire smoldered in his
gaze and still he didn’t touch her. He’d pulled his hair back from
his face and used the familial braids to secure the thick mass at
the nape of his neck. The style accented his sharp cheekbones and
the hypnotic power of his eyes.

“How did you know which gown I’d choose? I
tried on several.”

A mysterious smile curved the corners of his
mouth. “It’s my job to know.”

She traced the crest with her index finger,
unable to stop touching him. “I like the design. Does it have
meaning?”

“It’s the standard of House of Hautell.”

Emboldened by his uncharacteristic reserve,
she moved closer, walking her fingers up his chest until her hand
rested on his shoulder. “I’m ready,” she whispered as she gazed
into his eyes.

His arm encircled her waist and he pulled her
snugly against his chest. She felt a sudden rush of acceleration
and then they stood in an empty corridor. She only had a moment to
admire the polished marble floor and elaborately carved molding
framing the arched ceiling before she found herself pressed against
the wall.

Drakkin’s mouth covered hers, sliding for a
moment then urging her lips to part. One of his hands curved around
her neck while the other pressed against the wall. She closed her
eyes and greeted his tongue with hers.

Gods how I missed you
. Even in her
mind his voice sounded breathless and urgent.

She clutched his back and returned the kiss
with equal fervor.
I missed you too
.

After a long moment of tangled tongues and
harsh breathing, he slowly pulled away. “I promised myself I’d be
the gallant suitor tonight, that I’d attend to your every need and
play the perfect gentleman.”

“You can’t attend to my
every
need
and
play the perfect gentleman.” She grinned up at him.
“Clearly you sensed my need to kiss you.”

“Keep looking at me like that and the gown
will be wasted.”

“We can’t have that. I like this gown.”

He took a deep breath and pushed off the
wall. “I am entirely at your service.” He proffered his elbow and
banked the fire in his eyes.

The dancing had not yet begun but a sizable
crowd milled about the ballroom. A uniformed herald announced each
party as they entered the room. Drakkin brought her in through a
side entrance, avoiding the line and the announcement.

“Would you like something to drink?” He
motioned toward the waiter circulating through the throng with a
tray of drinks.

“Not yet. Just let me take it all in.” She’d
never witnessed anything like the lavish spectacle. Only in
entertainment vids or history files had she even seen such
opulence. The room itself was a marvel, cavernous with a high
arching roof that supported massive transparent panels.
Refreshments had been set up at one end of the room and the
orchestra at the other. A railed terrace wrapped around two sides
of the ballroom and four sets of double doors leading to the
promenade had been propped open, allowing the occasional
flower-scented breeze to sweep through the crowded room.

“Drakkin,” a booming male voice snapped
Aria’s attention away from the colorful crowd as a bear of a man
wrapped his arms around her escort. “Where have you been hiding?
It’s been ages.”

“Symposium business keeps me ever in motion.”
Drakkin pounded the newcomer on the back and smiled.

They chatted for several moments then the
stranger said, “Introduce me to your friend. She’s stunning.” He
added the last in an ineffective stage whisper.

“KoonTin Far this is Aria. Aria meet KoonTin
Far.”

“Mr. Far.” She held out her hand, expecting
him to shake it.

Instead he raised it to his lips and kissed
her knuckles. “It’s a pleasure and none of this Mr. Far nonsense.
I’ve known Drakkin for three hundred years.”

They spoke of people she didn’t know and
events she hadn’t experienced, laughing often, and in KoonTin’s
case quite loudly. She watched the conversation, feeling rather
left out.

As couples strolled by, many of the men did a
double take. Aria tried to convince herself that it was her
spectacular gown, but she knew it had more to do with her unusual
coloring. Were they admiring something unique or did they know she
manifested sexual magic?

Noticing her restlessness, Drakkin asked his
friend to excuse them and led her toward the refreshment table.
“Sorry about that.”

They didn’t make it far before another person
recognized Drakkin and then another. He didn’t linger long with any
of them, but Aria’s restlessness escalated into frustration.

As if cued by her emotions, the orchestra
struck up their first song and her gaze was drawn toward the dance
floor. Couples quickly filled the limited space, twirling in time
to the lilting music. She didn’t begrudge Drakkin his friends, but
this night was supposed to be about them.

Someone grabbed her arm and pulled her away
from Drakkin’s side. She yanked her arm free with an indignant
hiss. “I beg your pardon.”

The rude man’s coloring was even more unusual
than hers. His skin appeared supple yet metallic, the tint
somewhere between copper and bronze. With beady black eyes and a
turned-up nose, he reminded her of a robotic mouse.

“It would be my honor to dance with a fire
pearl.” He put sensual emphasis on the last two words.

She didn’t buy his belated attempt at
politeness. His black gaze kept dipping to her cleavage and his
nose began to twitch. “I have an escort. Thank you anyway.”