Ontarian Legacies 1 Shadow Assassins Read online

  Praise for the writing of Cyndi Friberg

  Ontarian Chronicles 3: City of Tears

  WOW! Ontarian Chronicles 3: City of Tears by Cyndi Friberg is one amazing blend of science fiction at its best and romance at its hottest with some paranormal bits thrown in for interest. Again, Ms. Friberg creates a single, seamless integrated plot incorporating both science fiction and romance without sacrificing the importance or beauty of either.

  -- Keely Skillman, EcataRomance Reviews

  Lyrik and Saebin are fascinating futuristic characters with emotional hang-ups that made their path to falling in love thoroughly enjoyable… For the Sci-Fi enthusiasts this story is perfect and for those new to the genre this is a wonderful introduction.

  -- Sin St. Luke, Just Erotic Romance Reviews

  This is a complex and thought-provoking read. Last in the Ontarian series, I read it as a stand-alone and it stood its own ground. The setting is multi-layered and well thought-out, the cast broad and well choreographed.

  -- TeeBee, Enchanted Ramblings

  A cast of colorful characters makes this final chapter of the Chronicle series well worth taking the time to read. Ms Friberg has written another great tale of romance mixed with loads of danger and has come out with another winner. Definitely, a fast paced exciting story.

  -- Matilda, Coffee Time Romance

  Ontarian Chronicles 3: City of Tears is now available from Loose Id.

  ONTARIAN LEGACIES 1:

  SHADOW ASSASSINS

  Cyndi Friberg

  www.loose-id.com

  Warning

  This e-book contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language and may be considered offensive to some readers. Loose Id e-books are for sale to adults ONLY, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.

  * * * * *

  This book contains explicit sexual content and graphic language.

  Ontarian Legacies 1: Shadow Assassins

  Cyndi Friberg

  This e-book is a work of fiction. While reference might be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Published by

  Loose Id LLC

  1802 N Carson Street, Suite 212-2924

  Carson City NV 89701-1215

  www.loose-id.com

  Copyright © August 2006 by Cyndi Friberg

  All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the purchaser of this e-book ONLY. No part of this e-book may be reproduced or shared in any form, including, but not limited to printing, photocopying, faxing, or emailing without prior written permission from Loose Id LLC.

  ISBN 978-1-59632-331-5

  Available in Adobe PDF, HTML, MobiPocket, and MS Reader

  Printed in the United States of America

  Editor: Maryam Salim

  Cover Artist: Sinamin

  www.loose-id.com

  Prologue

  “Only you can stop this madness. You must speak with the elders.”

  Varrik closed his eyes as the plaintive words echoed through his mind. Ripples of discontent had been disrupting the Shadow Maze longer than he could remember. After developing useless feelings for his female, Varrik’s brother, Sekall, had planted seeds of doubt and whispered clever lies. Sekall’s treachery still germinated a decade after his execution.

  “I am not my brother.” Varrik opened his eyes and glared at his misguided friend. “Unlike Sekall, I hold true to the ancient customs.”

  “Customs that were obsolete before we were born.” Bemzire wrapped his arm around a woman’s shoulders and drew her close against his side. Varrik didn’t know her name, didn’t allow himself to wonder. Females had only one purpose in the life of a Shadow Assassin and this woman had fulfilled hers. He glanced at the baby sleeping in her arms, ignoring the tightening in his chest. Soon it would be his turn to breed.

  “You have a strong, healthy son.” Varrik dragged his gaze away from the infant and focused on Bemzire. “Let that be enough.”

  “Enough for what? We are expected to remain in this prison, allowing others to dictate what gives meaning to our lives.” Bemzire stroked his son’s tiny face. Tension hardened his tone, yet his gaze remained tender. “With or without the elders’ consent, we’re leaving the Shadow Maze tonight.”

  “They will find you and kill you. You know the law.”

  Bemzire stepped closer, challenge flashing in his eyes. “I know it’s forbidden, but can you tell me why?”

  “You know why.”

  “I know the lies the elders use to control us. I want nothing more to do with the world below.”

  “There have always been lulls, shifts in power, and periods of waiting. We are above these things. We answer to a higher calling.” Varrik glanced at the woman. She remained silent and watchful as Bemzire argued their case. “Even if the elders allowed you to leave, how would you survive? You’re a criminal according to the world above. As soon as they realized where you came from, they would take you to the City of Tears.”

  “Then sweep my mind. The elders might not realize you have the gift, but I do. Use your ability on me, so I have nothing to reveal.”

  Varrik shook his head, his heart pounding in his chest. If one of the elders sensed the emotions raging in this room, they might join and penetrate his mental shields. He wasn’t ready to be a sweeper, was still too conflicted to embrace his destiny.

  “Sweeping your mind won’t keep the overlord from torturing you. If you think you’re a prisoner now, wait until you’ve spent some time in the City of Tears.”

  “Bemzire might have been trained as an assassin, but he has never taken a life.” The woman finally spoke. Her tone was calm, her expression resolute.

  “He’s a hunter, one of the leaders, a direct descendent from the south.” Varrik stared into her eyes, waiting for her to argue. She said nothing, so he drove the point home. “You were not the only woman taken during the hunt. Are all the females willing to forgive?”

  “It has to start somewhere,” Bemzire said firmly.

  Varrik turned back to his friend. “You didn’t answer my question.” He crossed his arms over his chest, gathering anger about him to drive back the pain. They were only repeating Sekall’s heresy, but the topic dredged up unwanted memories. Charismatic and shrewd, Sekall had been the biggest threat the elders had ever faced. So dangerous, in fact, he’d been silenced -- while Varrik was forced to watch.

  “We will live a quiet life in some secluded settlement,” Bemzire told him.

  Varrik snorted. “Does she know how to plant and harvest? You’re certainly no farmer.” Bemzire raised his chin and reached for his sidearm. “You see. Lethal instincts and instantaneous reactions, cunning perception and faultless aim. The only vocation you’re qualified for is military, and the warlords won’t have you.”

  “I have other abilities.”

  “Ah, yes. You can create the illusion of invisibility and move small objects with your mind. What value does that have in the world above?” His crestfallen expression was answer enough. “You’re a hunter, Bemzire, a trained assassin. Don’t attempt to leave. They will kill you. One cycle with this female does not need to end your life.”

  “This is no life.” She sneered. “You accomplish nothing. You don’t even destroy. You’ve become ghosts with no purpose, obediently going through the motions of a meaningless existence.”

  He shot her so s
cathing a glare she took an automatic step backward. “You won’t remember his face come morning. You won’t remember anything at all. Now get out of my sight!”

  Varrik waited until they left to vent his aggravation. He kicked over a chair and released a string of curses that echoed off the cold stone walls. Through sheer force of will, he kept memories of his brother buried deep in his mind. He had idolized Sekall, absorbed every word he spoke like a sponge. It took many cycles for Varrik to realize the true danger of his brother’s radical thinking. Hope could cut more deeply than any blade.

  Their world might be bleak and lonely, but there was no place for them in the world above.

  With an infuriated hiss, he stormed from his chamber and hurried toward the Council of Elders’ meeting room. He had to protect Bemzire from his own foolishness. A guard announced him, then motioned him inside. The table, like the room itself, was perfectly square. Each elder represented a geographical region, north, south, east, and west. They sat facing each other, their regions at their back.

  “What can we do for you, Varrik?” Elder North asked.

  Varrik waited for the guard to shut the door before he spoke. “Bemzire’s female is scheduled for release tomorrow. He is planning to escape with her tonight.”

  The elders exchanged pleased glances, then Elder North stood. “Why have you chosen to warn us?”

  “I honor the ancient customs. The laws are designed to protect us all.” He squared his shoulders and added, “Despite his misguided notions, Bemzire is my friend. I would rather not see him sacrificed because of this woman.”

  Elder North rounded the table and clasped Varrik’s shoulder. “We have waited many cycles for Vade’s strength to be revealed. We feared your brother’s influence had poisoned your mind. This is encouraging, very encouraging.”

  Chapter One

  Echo dar Aune stood in the shadow of a massive storax tree. Long, slender branches draped the ground and trailed in the water of Mystic Brook. Twilight had deepened the lavender-tinted sky, turning it a shade between purple and gray. Fluffy pink clouds floated toward the horizon as intar larks sang out in the peaceful haze.

  Drawing in a deep breath of cool, clear air, Echo savored the solitude. This had been the longest week of her life. It wasn’t every day one of her cousins got married, and to add mayhem to complication, Rheanna had joined with a Bilarrian prince.

  Relatives and dignitaries from all over the star system had descended on Mystic Valley. Uncle Trey had insisted they combine the firepower of his special forces with the protection of the Mystic shields. Knowing he would demand nothing less if one of his daughters were getting married, her father, Head Master Tal, agreed to host the festivities. Only those with Mystic abilities were allowed inside the Conservatory, but the elegant visitors’ center was large enough for the event.

  “Is he here yet?”

  Echo smiled at the anticipation in her sister’s tone. “Soon,” she whispered, not bothering to turn around. She could picture E’Lanna’s flushed cheeks and luminous gaze. The dreamy expression had seldom left her face since Zane cet Malaque rotated onto their security contingent. “Do you think they do it intentionally?”

  “Does who do what intentionally?”

  “Do young, physically attractive men apply to be our bodyguards?”

  “They haven’t all been gorgeous like Zane. Think about Leor. He was older than Father, and no one would mistake him for handsome.”

  “True, but his partner was Taminish.”

  “It doesn’t matter what they look like. They’re sworn to protect, not satisfy, us.” E’Lanna glanced into the distance and clasped her hands in front of her, the epitome of propriety and decorum. Echo wasn’t fooled by the pose. E’Lanna’s nature was every bit as passionate as her own.

  “The things I learned from Taminish had nothing to do with safety.” Wistfulness took over her voice as her mind filled with memories. Sensual exploration and youthful exuberance had driven each encounter. What he’d lacked in finesse, he’d made up for with enthusiasm. She would always think of Taminish with a smile.

  She turned toward E’Lanna and found her twin staring back at her. The identical purple gowns they’d worn for their cousin’s wedding accented the similarity of their features. On any other day, Echo would have chosen clothing vastly different from E’Lanna’s. Their golden-brown hair and smoky-violet eyes made them hard to tell apart. Still, the novelty of being mistaken for one another had worn off cycles ago.

  “What about Kiel?” E’Lanna’s brow arched in challenge. “He was reassigned two cycles ago. Surely you can tell me now. How far did you allow things to go? I know you didn’t let Taminish do more than play, but what about Kiel?”

  “A lady never tells.” Echo hid her guilty smile by motioning over E’Lanna’s shoulder. “Our newest bodyguard approaches.”

  They’d planned their escape all evening. Echo waited until the party was in full swing, then sneaked away into the verdant meadow, still within the Mystic shields. Using Echo’s disappearance as an excuse, E’Lanna went to search for her sister. Last, Zane abandoned the festivities to investigate the location of the twins. The ruse wouldn’t keep the other guards away for long. Echo intended to distract them while E’Lanna and Zane enjoyed the romantic setting.

  A flicker of light drew her attention across the brook. Her heart lurched, then resumed its steady rhythm. She squinted into the setting sun and scanned with her mind as well as her eyes. Had someone else decided to escape the ruckus hall? A line of lush trees marched toward the meditation gardens, which butted up against the practice yard. She saw nothing out of place and sensed no danger. So, what had caught her eye?

  “Thanks for this.” E’Lanna kissed her cheek, then wrapped her arm around Zane’s lean waist. “We only have a few more weeks before Zane is scheduled for reassignment.”

  Uncle Trey claimed the rotation kept a balance of experience and fresh perspective on the security team. Echo suspected the practice was also meant to keep the men from developing personal feelings for the women in their charge. As their reminiscence proved, the strategy wasn’t entirely successful.

  “Don’t be too long,” she cautioned. “Even I can’t confuse them forever.”

  Smoldering heat and sensual hunger flowed through Echo’s mind as Zane swept E’Lanna into his arms. Echo hurried along the grassy riverbank, leaving the lovers alone in the dark. The intensity of her sister’s emotions drew Echo deeper into the meld. She saw Zane’s handsome face and his blacker-than-night eyes. Saw the tenderness and desire alight in his smoldering gaze. Felt his hand glide across E’Lanna’s shoulder and dip inside her gown to cup her breast. E’Lanna sighed, pressing into his touch, wanting more than a few stolen kisses.

  With concentrated effort, Echo eased out of her sister’s mind and shielded her end of the link. She collided with Lor dar Joon and gasped. His large hands clasped her upper arms, steadying her until she regained her footing.

  “Your face is flushed, and your expression is dreamy.” A knowing smile parted his lips. “Either you were having very naughty thoughts, or E’Lanna is with Zane -- again.”

  Lor had been her father’s apprentice until he completed his training four cycles ago. Echo had spent half her childhood enamored with him, yet she had come to think of him as a close friend by the time she saw male appreciation in his eyes. Her mother, High Queen Charlotte, would doubtlessly welcome a match between them. The House of Joon had resented the House of Aune for centuries. The hostilities escalated with frustrating regularity, despite Charlotte’s best efforts to establish lasting peace.

  “Did Father send you after me?” She smoothed the heavily embroidered material of her bodice against her ribs, her senses still humming. Strolling to a nearby tree, she leaned against the trunk, needing the stability at her back. Her teasing tastes of passion had never produced the sort of emotions E’Lanna enjoyed with Zane.

  Lor moved closer, the wind playing through his curly blond hair. “As
a matter of fact, he did. You shouldn’t be out here alone.”

  “I’m not alone.” She glanced up at him and offered her best flirtatious smile. “I have you to protect me.”

  He placed his hands on either side of her shoulders, his turquoise gaze searching her face. “What makes you think you’re safe with me?”

  “You would never do anything to displease Father.” A note of disappointment bled through in her tone.

  “Unlike Zane?” He brushed her cheek with his knuckles, then reluctantly stepped back. “Are they out here, or were you entertaining wicked thoughts?”

  “I was enjoying the sunset,” she claimed with innocent bravado.

  “But you’d rather be enjoying passionate kisses and bold caresses?” A strand of her hair flitted against her check. He tucked it behind her ear, his fingers lingering against her skin. “Will you stop moping if I kiss you?”

  “I am not moping!” She averted her gaze. Lor was handsome and experienced, intelligent and kind. She had often wondered what it would feel like to kiss him. With a deep chuckle, he pulled her into his arms and pressed his mouth over hers. She wrapped her arms around his back and parted her lips, waiting for the first brush of his tongue.

  He took his time, nibbling at her lips and tracing her mouth with the tip of his tongue. When he finally delved into her mouth, she was panting and restless. His tongue stroked hers, traced her teeth, then stroked hers some more. She waited for the knee-melting heat, the rush of tingling fire E’Lanna felt each time Zane kissed her. Lor’s mouth was warm, his body strong, but the kiss was no more than pleasant.