Vision of Light [The Renegades 1] (21 page)

"You may want to pay some attention if there ever comes a day when you need to find your way in or back out."

After many left and right turns, eventually, they came to a wall of thick hedges. Separating the hedge, Lucien wedged himself through, pulling Aislan with him. They were enclosed in darkness. He lit one of the two lanterns hanging overhead and then unhooked it.

"Where are we?” she repeated.

"In a tunnel. Come.” He held onto her hand as they walked down the short passage. Lucien extinguished the lantern at the other end of the tunnel and hung it on another overhead hook. Still holding onto Aislan, he wedged himself through another hedge. They emerged onto the other side, and she found herself back to the same garden with rows and rows of medicinal herbs where they first started. She stared at the almost identical building ahead, so alike but not quite the same.

"Have we walked in a circle?” Aislan asked, thoroughly confused.

"Not quite.” Rather than heading for the door they had come out of the building into the garden, Lucien walked around to the front.

"'Tis not the same building. Where have you taken me?"

"'Tis Calvacade."

"What is that?"

"Sanctuary, for the moment."

Lucien opened the front door, and they entered a huge laboratory. At one of the long tables stood a tall man dressed all in white, with his back to them.

There was not a single flower in the room, yet the fragrance of different flowers filled the air. Nothing but vials of liquid and powder mixtures cluttered every table, so Aislan finally decided the different fragrances had to emit from the contents in the vials.

The man in white turned when Lucien and Aislan came in.

"Lucien!” He looked surprised but not shocked. He set down the vials he had been mixing and went to meet them.

The man looked utterly divine, as tall as Lucien, with short dark hair and magnetic amber eyes. Dressed completely in white, his outfit was that of a noble lord, a long tunic that reached his knees, his pants molding well to his muscular legs. His white boots had no dirt on them. He looked only a few years older than Lucien. Aislan stared at him, finding it quite daunting to be in a room with two physically attractive men exuding such virility and magnetism.

The man perused Aislan also, up and down. She became self-conscious of her tattered appearance. Having never been vain, Aislan did not understand what drove her to check her braid and smooth her filthy hair in place.

"Milady,” he inclined his head slightly, “welcome to my humble home."

"Thank you, milord.” Aislan was afraid to touch the magnificent-looking man.

He looked back at Lucien. “You could have at least sent a message so I could have greeted you at the door."

There was nothing wrong with what the man said, but Aislan felt a sudden undercurrent.

"I apologize for intruding without at least a word of warning.” Lucien's politeness seemed odd also. The two of them only conversed for her sake. She and Lucien had taken a circuitous route, obviously traveling a decoy path, and her host now played along for her sake.

"Aislan, ‘tis Lord Traver Calvacade. ‘Tis Lady Aislan,” Lucien made the introduction but qualified nothing.

Lord Traver took her hand and kissed the back of it lightly, his long fingers cool and impersonal. From his touch, Aislan realized something else. Traver Calvacade was a sorcerer. She did not know how she knew because he projected no sorcery energy when he touched her, but she sensed it churning strongly in him. He was as powerful as Lucien, but not quite the same.

"Lady Aislan is weary from traveling. I'll see to her comfort.” Lucien held up a detaining hand when Lord Traver made a move as if to accompany them. “No need to put yourself out. I'll be back."

"Very well.” Lord Traver nodded, and the two men exchanged a look, clearly signifying a talk was due.

See to her comfort! Aislan knew more than likely Lucien only wanted her out of the way so he and Lord Traver could have their conversation. Since the conversation would be about her, she might as well listen in. She glanced about the laboratory full of bubbling vials containing godforsaken potions, one of which she would soon ingest, no doubt.

"I beg your pardon, Lord Traver, but milord has brought me here to change my identity,” she declared, in no mood to be trifled with, even though she imposed on Lord Traver's hospitality and in no position to demand anything. She would not stand by quietly while some mad apothecary experimented with her body, no matter how devastatingly attractive he looked.

"Not now, Aislan,” Lucien addressed her like a wayward child.

At least her protest had caught Lord Traver's attention, which he now focused on her. She squirmed slightly, finding the amber eyes disconcerting. Her acute awareness of him alarmed her. The amber eyes were familiar, and Aislan suddenly remembered the boy from the river who had saved her from Narisse. The eye color was nearly the same, the brown irises so pale they sparkled like gold, but Lord Traver had dark, black hair and the boy had light gold. She had never seen Lord Traver before, so she knew they certainly could not be the same person.

Aislan pulled her attention from him to look at Lucien and received an icy response. It took her a moment to realize he saw her reaction to the attractive Lord Traver and apparently did not like it.

Just when she thought the room was overwhelming enough, in from one of the back rooms walked a handsome, young man with dark hair and the same amber eyes. He looked similar to Lord Traver, though much younger. For just a moment, he bore a slight resemblance to Lucien also. He paused upon seeing them.

Attractive men were crawling out of the woodwork.

"My, my, what have we here?” Coming forward, he extended a hand. She hesitated because of her lack of grooming, and then gingerly placed her hand in his. Aislan sensed he was also a sorcerer, although his energy barely discernible. Raising her hand to his lips, he kissed the back of it lingeringly despite the fact she looked and smelled as if she had waded across a moat for several days.

"Jaden Calvacade, milady, your servant.” His gaze swept over her, admiring her openly. She smiled at him a little, noting his handsome face, the laughter sparkling in his amber eyes, and the charming dimples. He was probably in his mid twenties, a few years older than she was. Aislan resisted the urge to smooth down her hair again. She attributed her awareness of these men to her state of sexual frustration. Her hormones were wreaking havoc on her.

Lord Jaden kept her hand in his as he turned to Lucien. “Well, well, so here you are. What trouble have you brewed this time, dear cousin, that you have to sneak in?"

Cousins? Aislan looked back and forth among the three men. Of course. Their coloring was the same, their skin a rich, dark brown. They all had the same shade of hair, with a slight wave. Lucien did mention he was bringing her to his family.

She wondered why Lucien glared at Lord Jaden in open antagonism.

Lord Traver cleared his throat slightly. “My mother is entertaining,” he said enigmatically. “There are over one hundred guests in the manor. A dozen more will stay the night."

"Not an opportune time for me to sneak in,” Lucien said, and for some reason, all three men laughed. “Unfortunately, you are stuck with us for a while."

"Until the guests take their leaves on the morrow, you may best stay at Lilypad."

"I appreciate that.” Lucien nodded.

"The duchess is also here,” Traver added.

"I'll pay her a visit and beg her forgiveness for my neglect,” Lucien said, raising Aislan's ire further.

"Jaden, if you do not mind, fetch the maids to tend to Lady Aislan,” Traver suggested.

"Ah, yes, I am but an errand boy.” Jaden extended a hand to her. “'Twill be a pleasure to accompany my lady—"

Lucien took Aislan's hand and pulled her away. “I'll be back.” Addressing Traver, he ignored Jaden completely before he walked towards the hall similar to the original building they had first entered. He walked into a room, then out another door into a flower garden, going through what seemed to be another maze.

"Why do I feel as if we walk in circles, and yet we are not?” Aislan asked as she watched the familiar pattern of his foot movements they had taken earlier even though the paths looked different. The bushes moved in tandem with their steps, parting as they walked.

"You need to follow a memorized pattern,” Lucien explained. “Otherwise, you walk in circles to nowhere."

"The maze is enchanted.” Aislan was in total awe. “How did you manage this?"

"Mayhap one day Traver would tell you if you charm him enough."

"Hmph!” She snorted her doubt about being able to charm Lord Traver. Lord Jaden would be more receptive, but then, anyone could charm Jaden with a mere finger beckoning in his direction.

"Why do you sneak around in your own home?” she asked.

"'Tis not my home."

"But they are your cousins."

"It does not mean ‘tis my home."

Sighing, she refused to split hairs. “Then why the need to sneak into your kin's home?"

"We need somewhere to hide for a short while. We are fugitives, remember?"

"Lord Traver—will he be the one to change me?"

"Hopefully so."

"What will he turn me into? A dog? A cat?"

Lucien coughed. “No, you will remain a beautiful woman."

They walked only a short way before they arrived at a hedge. He pushed, and they stepped through into a beautiful garden blooming with spectacular flowers. Water dripped from the petals of huge blossoms.

"These are wet!” She looked up, seeing not a trace of dark clouds anywhere. “How are these flowers all wet?"

Lucien shrugged. “You will need to ask Traver."

Fine chance she would ever get to sit down and converse with the enigmatic Traver Calvacade about his labyrinth.

A huge fountain sat in the center of the perfectly manicured garden. At the other end of the flower garden, a path led up to a huge pond. Lily pads covered part of the surface of the water. A small house stood at the other side of the pond. Leading her to it, Lucien opened the door.

A quaint, open place with only one huge room, Lilypad comprised of a sitting area with a throw rug and several chairs, a dining table with two chairs, a writing desk next to a window, a shelf with half a dozen wine flasks, and a bed in one corner. A huge tub sat at another corner of the room. Although clean, the place smelled musty and stale as if it had sat unoccupied for a while. There was no fireplace to provide heat if the weather turned cold.

Lucien threw the bag of provisions onto the floor next to the bed. He went to the shelf and picked up one of the wine flasks, then walked to the sitting area. Plopping down on one of the chairs, he uncapped the wine and started drinking.

He did not even look at her. She could only guess he disliked her responses to the handsome men around her. Did he expect her to pretend other men did not exist? If he had not left her sexually frustrated the past few days, she would not have reacted like the strumpet he had turned her into and then denied.

Aislan knew she had gotten ahead of herself, justifying improper behavior so she could normalize it. She feared she had become sex-starved and wondered why she must now have sex more often. It was quite a giant leap from frigidity to wanting to be tied up and perhaps spanked, this time preferably while awake.

With nothing else to do, Aislan went to join him in the sitting area and sat on a chair next to him, willing him to look at her. He took a couple more mouthfuls before he met her gaze.

"If you intend to drink all night, mayhap I should join you.” She held out her hand.

Lucien hugged the wine flask close to him possessively as if it were the only one left in the room. “You should not drink on an empty stomach. The maids will arrive with your meal."

"Why are you drinking?"

"'Tis a good way to kill time."

Aislan glanced at the bed and then away. By tonight, perhaps the bed would end his self-imposed celibacy, unless he planned to spend the night somewhere else. She thought of the girl, Ruby, and knew he did not have to confine himself to Lilypad. If he left her here to go to another woman, she would walk out of Calvacade. She remembered the foot pattern all too well.

"Now, what the hell are you so angry about?” he asked angrily.

"Hmph!” she said one more time, which she could tell was getting to Lucien because he cast a grumpy look her way. She got up and went to the bed where he had dropped her bag of books. Sitting down, she took out the books and scribers to look them over and realized what he had done for her. He had turned her into an emotional wreck, flip-flopping between adoration and exasperation. Why could they not just spend the time making love instead of finding reasons to be at odds with each other? She did not want to be in conflict with him, only wanting to be in his arms.

Aislan hugged all three books to her and lay face down on the bed. Let him get drunk and go in search of another woman. She knew how to get along with herself. If he infuriated her enough, she would leave and go find Victania.

Aislan opened her eyes. Running away from Lucien would solve nothing. She thought of Victania and longed for it. However, she could not bring herself to leave Lucien. She wanted him. He made her feel alive, giving her joy and happiness. Even when at his most difficult, he still managed to make her happy. Victania had waited nearly nine years. Her vision told her it would wait for her a little longer. Aislan had to sort out her feelings for Lucien before she could think about a future anywhere else.

Lying there a long time, she waited and hoped. Finally, he moved. She felt his presence as he stood next to the bed. Aislan turned over, still hugging his gifts against her breasts. She saw the desire in his eyes burning for her. He had lost his resolve to keep his distance from her. Smiling, she reached out a hand.

Two maids came in, and Aislan wanted to weep from frustration.

Unlike the girls at the brothel, they stopped at the door and looked uncertain about proceeding.