Mystic Flame Page 7

  “The first entry records his acceptance into the Conservatory, the second states the name of his mentor.” He motioned toward the display. “There is no way any of this can be construed as incriminating.”

  “Who was his mentor?” She tilted her head at that inquisitive angle that always made him smile. How could he be so comfortable with her nearness after all the cycles they had been apart? “Is there anything incriminating about him?”

  “Not at all. Malos was mentored by one of the most respected…” His words trailed away as he reread the entry. “His mentor died shortly after Malos completed his training, but there was nothing suspicious about his death.”

  “All right, let’s look at this from an entirely different angle. Are there any of the entries you haven’t transmitted to Lord Drakkin yet? Once the information is entered into the Wisdom of the Ages, Malos is shit out of luck.”

  His gaze darted to her. “You have incorporated some delightful new phrases into your vocabulary.”

  “Thank you.” She laughed and arched her back, dipping her hair in the water. The motion thrust her breasts into the air. Water ran in rivulets across her smooth ivory skin and her dusky nipples gathered into tight points.

  Desire spiraled down from Evan’s chest and lodged between his legs. “You’re not helping.”

  “Sorry.” With a siren’s smile, she settled back beneath the water.

  “The last four entries have yet to be transmitted.”

  “Is there anything odd in any of them?”

  “Define odd.” He scrolled to the first of the four entries. “Vee could be quite cryptic at times. He often addressed Lord Drakkin directly. Did you know Lord Drakkin was Vee’s mentor?”

  “I met Lord Drakkin during one of my missions to Earth. He helped us destroy Operation Hydra. I didn’t know either of them well, but I’m acquainted with their reputations. Read the four entries.”

  “‘The shadow looms ever nearer. I know you warned me, Chae Tra. But I was often slow to learn.’”

  “Vee was slow to learn? What does that make the rest of us?” She fidgeted, one silky knee poking out of the water as she raised her foot to a ledge beneath the surface. “What does Chae Tra mean? I’ve never heard that word before.”

  “It’s the Bilarrian word for master. This is one of those entries that seems more like personal correspondence than official record. I doubt it was meant for the Symposium’s archive.”

  “What do you think he meant by the shadow looming?”

  “Vee spent the last few days of his life making sure everything was in order. I believe he knew he was going to die.”

  “You don’t have to be a Mystic to feel death breathing down your neck. It’s a common phenomenon. What does the next entry say?”

  “It’s the Mystic Charter word for word. Again he had no reason to do this unless he sensed death approaching.”

  “What’s in the Mystic Charter?”

  “It consists of the three fundamental statements governing a Mystic’s life. The oath each novice recites upon acceptance for training, the vows of a Master-level Mage and the pledge of political neutrality.”

  “Isn’t this already recorded in the Wisdom of the Ages?”

  “Of course. It’s also on file with the Ontarian hall of records, as well as framed in the vestibule of the training center.”

  “Okay, so chalk that up to the department of redundancy department. Vee was just covering all the bases. Read the next one.”

  “Let’s see.” He found the third entry and read it out loud. “After tomorrow I will be able to erase ‘sat’ from my vocabulary. Such a simple change, yet the ramifications will be staggering. I’ve sent you one last message, my friend. I trust you to act upon it.”

  “Have you spoken to Lord Drakkin? Did Vee send him a private message?”

  “Not that I know of. The past few weeks have been hectic to say the least.”

  “How well do you know Lord Drakkin?”

  “My only dealing with him has been as Vee’s apprentice, but Vee trusted him implicitly. Why do you ask?”

  “Unless the last entry changes my mind, I think you should give all this to Lord Drakkin and let him decide what to do with it. Vee’s own words say that he trusts Lord Drakkin to act on the information.”

  “I don’t understand the last entry.”

  “What does it say?”

  “‘My only regret is never hearing her name again.’”

  * * * * *

  A firm rap on the door drew Grat’s attention to the portal. He slipped the scanner into the pocket of his pants and opened the door. A female smiled at him, her eyes on a level with his. She wore no shirt beneath her black jacket, allowing her lush breasts to swell into view. The scrap of material that passed for her skirt barely reached mid-thigh and impossibly high heels extended the line of her legs by at least four inches.

  Her cherry-red lips parted in an inviting smile. “I’m from Racing Hearts. Are you Mr. Grant?”

  She’d added an extra consonant to his name, but he wasn’t about to argue. “I am.”

  Shifting her weight from one foot to the other, she glanced up and down the hall. “I don’t generally deal with the financial aspect of my dates, but you told Trish this would be a cash transaction.”

  “Yes. We agreed upon a fee and she told me you would expect payment before you rendered your services.”

  The female laughed and brushed by him, entering his room without permission. “You’re not from around here, I take it.”

  “That is a safe assumption.” His language infusion provided him with an adequate vocabulary. Emulating the local speech patterns and incorporating the vernacular would take a bit more time. He handed her a stack of neatly folded bills and she slipped them into the pocket of her jacket.

  “The name’s Rebecca, by the way. Unless you want to call me something else.”

  “Rebecca is fine. I’m anxious to get started.”

  She glanced at the bed. “You wanted a limo fantasy, right?”

  “Limo fantasy? No, I need an actual automobile in which to… I requested an automobile and someone capable of operating it.”

  “No worries.” She lowered one eyelid and licked those bright red lips. Blood flooded his groin and tension banded his chest like alloy straps. Only in the simulators had a female looked at him with such blatant invitation. “The limo is waiting out front and I brought a driver.”

  If she brought a driver, what was her role in this arrangement?

  “I like to ask a few questions before we begin,” she said. “It allows me to stay in character. Do you prefer to be the aggressor or would you like to be irresistible?”

  What was she talking about? Why was it necessary to answer these questions to be transported about the city? “I have important work to do. I only need to travel from one section of the city to another. The fewer distractions I have the faster I can accomplish my work.”

  She grinned. “Gottcha. I’ll try very hard not to distract you, but I can’t promise to keep my hands to myself. Just something to keep in mind, I have no problem with rough play, in fact I enjoy it. Many overworked businessmen like to take out their frustrations on me.” She giggled and crooked her index finger as she sashayed toward the door. “Let’s go for a ride.”

  * * * * *

  Dro Tar wiggled away from one pounding jet only to encounter another. The water spa was intended to relax her, so why did she find it stimulating instead? Her gaze drifted over Evan’s handsome features and she had her answer. Staring at him made any situation stimulating. He’d isolated the journal entries that utilized the title Chae Tra, hoping to identify a hidden pattern. He stared at the display, drumming his thumbs against the tabletop.

  “I really think we need to talk to Lord Drakkin,” she said. “He knew Vee better than anyone.”

  With a frustrated sigh, he powered down the journal. “It took Vee eleven hundred solar cycles to accumulate these entries. I suppose any mystery he migh
t have hidden will take longer than one night to unravel.”

  “That’s a pretty safe bet.” She smiled and wiped droplets of water off her face.

  “But what about the girl?” He didn’t have to explain who he meant, the fear in the stranger’s lavender eyes hadn’t left Dro Tar’s mind. “I can’t help feeling she’s here in Las Vegas and she’s in trouble.”

  “Have you ever had a vision while you were transporting before?” She knew what he’d been able to do fifteen cycles ago. How much more had he learned as Vee’s apprentice?

  “No.” He shifted in his chair as indecision clouded his gaze. “Master Vee trusted me with the journal. I will not disappoint him now.”

  Despite the risk of bruising his ego, she pointed out a subtle distinction. “Master Vee trusted you to deliver the journal entries to Lord Drakkin. I’m not sure this is your mystery to solve.” His brow raised and he folded his hands on the tabletop. He didn’t seem insulted by the possibility. “Are you certain the vision is linked with the journal? They could be unrelated.”

  “I’m not certain of anything.” He spread his hands, his tone taking on a terse edge. “My visions have never been this useless before.”

  “I think you’re trying too hard.” She sank into the water until the bubbles tickled the underside of her chin. “Relax for a little while. Think about something else, or better yet, don’t think at all.”

  “Head Master Tal is aware of Malos’ odd behavior.” He stood and moved around the table. “The journal is safe within my keeping.” Standing beside the spa, he let his gaze sweep over her naked body. “I will sense if a Mystic arrives on Earth and no Ontarian can reach Earth without a Mystic.”

  Smoothing her wet curls back from her face, she smiled invitingly. “Let’s enjoy Las Vegas for a day or two. If you’re not able to understand what the vision is trying to show you, then you can zap us over to Bilarri.”

  “I can transport to Bilarri without any problem.” He paused, his eyes narrowing with passionate promise. “If I’m taking you with me, I’ll require a full energy infusion.”

  “And of course the only way a feeble person like myself can infuse a mighty Mystic is to allow you intimate access to my body.” Her nipples tingled and she pressed her thighs together as desire washed over her. He could probably sense how much she wanted him, so why pretend otherwise? “I believe this is called extortion.”

  He pulled off his T-shirt and tossed it aside. With his hand hovering over the fly of his jeans, he said, “It’s only extortion if you object to the suggestion. I thought you wanted me to relax for a while.”

  She licked her lips, anticipation spreading through her like liquid fire. “I’ve never found our encounters relaxing. Exhausting and fulfilling but not relaxing.”

  “Then let’s try something new.” He shed his pants and slipped into the water, offering her only the briefest glimpse of his erection before he was concealed by the current.

  Relaxation was the last thing on her mind whenever he was near. His lazy smile melted her insides and the brush of his warm fingers sent her pulse racing. He looked at her with those vibrant green eyes and she wanted to devour him.

  “I’ve realized in retrospect that we know very little about each other.” He spread his arms along the smooth rim of the spa, water lapping at his chest.

  Images flashed through her mind that contradicted his statement. “Really?”

  “Do I have siblings? Where did I live before I came to the Conservatory?”

  “You have two sisters and a half-brother. You’re the eldest. No one ever doubted you’d be accepted into the Conservatory because your abilities are extraordinary and your lineage is pure. You lost your father during a skirmish with the Rodytes, but your mother is living comfortably in Frontine with the father of your half-brother.”

  “I’m impressed.” He narrowed his gaze again, but speculation shaped his expression not desire. “The dossiers we memorized for the mission weren’t factual. When did you learn all of this?”

  What he really meant was why had she bothered to learn about him when she’d refused to see him, but she let it slide. “I have an in with the director of Covert Operations, makes it easy to find out just about anything.”

  “So I’m no mystery. Tell me about you. Do you have family?”

  “My mother survived the Great Conflict only to be raped and murdered during a robbery. She changed social alliances like I change hairstyles, so she wasn’t sure who my father was. There’s a dark side to life on Ontariese that the elite seldom think about.”

  “You’re female. That alone puts you in a position of power.”

  Only the earnest candor in his expression kept her from laughing out loud. “Females from the great houses are sheltered and revered. Even common females are safe if they have a large family or the means to hire protection. My mother and I had neither.”

  “Mistreatment of any woman is a criminal act punishable by—”

  “Are you really so out of touch?” She didn’t want to fight with him, but apparently he was right. He didn’t know her at all. “I’ve seen vids of the Conservatory. It’s spectacular. Unfortunately, not all of Ontariese is graceful and secluded. Vast cities were laid to waste by the Great Conflict and the biological weapon unleashed by the House of Joon changed the role of Ontarian women forever.”

  “I understand that. Our disproportionate population has forced us to redefine some of the basic concepts of our society.”

  She shook her head and glanced out the window, unable to meet his gaze. How could someone so intelligent and powerful be so naive? “It’s survival of the fittest in a way. The great houses make sure the opportunity to procreate is only granted to the best and most gifted.”

  “You make it sound callous and unreasonable.” He leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. “With almost one hundred men for every woman, strict codes had to be established just to ensure some portion of our population survived. The crisis is far from over. The Joint High Council is still searching for long-term solutions to the problem. If the ratio had been reversed, the situation wouldn’t have been so desperate, but—”

  “One man can service a hundred women more easily than one woman can accommodate a hundred men?” There was nothing they could do to change the past, and the global challenges weren’t what this was about. They might be from the same planet, but they were from different worlds.

  “We were talking about procreation, not sexual satisfaction.” He splashed water on his face and slicked back his hair.

  “No, I was talking about the elite.”

  With a soft sigh, he returned his arms to the spa’s smooth rim. “All right. How does life differ for females not born into one of the six great houses?”

  He sounded cautious and concerned, so she kept her explanation generic. “As soon as a female develops the physical attributes of a woman, there are a hundred men waiting for her to declare her first social alliance. Without the protection of an alliance, she’s fair game to be pressured and pursued.”

  His gaze moved over her face, searching and intense. “Did someone hurt you, Dro Tar? Is that what this is about?”

  So much for generic explanations. He wouldn’t allow her to be vague. “My mother chose her first protector in her fifteenth solar cycle. He was wealthy and controlling and determined to have as many children as physically possible. After her third miscarriage, he ended the alliance and publicly announced her inability to carry a child to term. It ruined her prospects of establishing an advantageous alliance. She was good for one thing and one thing only.”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize—”

  “She was passed from man to man for the next forty cycles. I was born eleven weeks premature, so her prospects were little better even after she produced a living child. She refused to have my DNA tested, said none of the bastards deserved to be my father. Shortly after she died, I had a paternity test run. I didn’t want to end up sleeping with my brother or somethin
g equally creepy. I sent a message to the man identified by the test, but he never responded, and that was that.” Sympathy filled his eyes and she stiffened. Nothing pissed her off faster than pity. “What did you expect? I’m not from one of the great houses and I have no Mystical powers. I could have bartered my body to the highest bidder, but I saw where that got my mother. Instead I fought my way through life. It just seemed like the right thing to do.”

  He stood and held out his hand, his gaze warm and caressing. “You wouldn’t be Dro Tar without that fiery spirit. I’ve always admired your strength.”

  Uncomfortable with the serious turn their conversation had taken, she slid her toes up his thigh. “And I’ve always admired your ass.”

  * * * * *

  Grat squirmed on the smooth seat of the limousine. Rebecca kept saying the most inappropriate things. She sat in the seat adjacent to his and parted her thighs, allowing him to see up her skirt. If only she weren’t wearing panties… He shook his head. That shiny scrap of red silk was just as distracting. It invited him to imagine the soft, moist heat awaiting him.

  How was he supposed to use the scanner if she wouldn’t leave him alone? He had to locate the Mystic. Gine’s guileless face flashed through his memory and his fingers tightened on the scanner. He would do whatever it took to protect his brother and every moment he delayed increased the chances Malos would get restless. Let her marvel at his gadget. It didn’t matter. He had no time to waste. Pulling the scanner out of his pocket, he said, “Activate full spectrum.” A three-dimensional grid arose from the flat surface shimmering in the dim interior of the automobile.

  “How cool is that?” Momentarily forgetting her determination to seduce him, she scooted to the edge of her seat. “Is it some sort of game?”

  “Yes. It is meant for amusement.” He made several minor adjustments, optimizing the scanner’s range. “Did you give the driver my map? It is vital that he follow the directions exactly.”

  “Jerry’s lived in Vegas forever. You’re in good hands.”