Warrior (34 page)

It was the T'lir!

She could feel the globe's power surging within it like a miniature sun. And she knew exactly what to do with it. She touched the cool, glowing point within her own chest. . . .

And power blazed into her from the globe's glass depths, fierce, exhilarating, wiping away her grief, her insecurity, her lingering guilt over her mother's death. With a savage smile, Jess sent that energy lancing around the room.

Everywhere it touched, the Xerans' helmets burst, popping like lightbulbs, yet leaving the men inside them uninjured.

And unprotected from Vanja's psychic screech.

They went down howling like animals to writhe on the floor, drowning in the Sela's grief.

Galar and his Enforcers did not give them the opportunity to recover. Axes swung with brutal efficiency—and a total lack of emotion.

Jessica carefully did not watch the carnage.

Instead she turned and walked across the room to lay one hand on Vanja's furred, oddly shaped head. Closing her eyes, she sent the T'lir's soothing energy rolling over the Sela. The keening stopped.

“You could have saved her,” Jess said softly, knowing it was true. “You had the power. Why didn't you?”

The Sela looked up at her, infinite sadness in her huge, liquid eyes. Her face was almost catlike, almost human, but was not quite either. “It was your test, my dear. She gave her life to administer it. What could I do except honor her sacrifice?”

“Did you know she was going to die? Did
she
know she was going to die?”

Vanja angled her furred head in a gesture reminiscent of a shrug. “There would have been no test otherwise.”

Jess threw Charlotte a look. The woman was sitting up, wiping away tears. Her shoulders slumped with weary grief. “That's why Charlotte didn't do anything either. You told her not to.”

“Yes.”

“What kind of test?” Galar demanded, flicking blood from his axe as he walked over to them. His expression was stony. “Are you saying you could have prevented all this?”

Vanja looked up at him, her eyes liquid and wise. “Can history be changed, Master Enforcer?”

He opened his mouth, then closed it again, looking chagrined. After a moment he tried again. “What's the purpose of this test? What are you trying to learn? And why test us and not the Xerans?”

“We did test the Xerans,” Vanja told him, rising to all six legs. “They failed. As for your other questions—well, learning those answers is a test for another day.”

Dyami loomed at his shoulder, glowering down at the little alien. “What gives you the right to test us at all?”

Vanja tilted her head. “You'll figure it out—or perhaps you won't.” She turned and took the T'lir from Jessica's unresisting fingers.

Holding the globe over Ethini's body, the alien closed her enormous eyes. Snow swirled up in the globe, bursting from it in a rain of golden sparks that drifted down over the small corpse. Her fur began to glow with a sunny light, each soft hair shining brighter and brighter, until the body flared like a star and disappeared. Nothing was left but a few bright, drifting motes and the smell of cinnamon.

Jess's eyes stung. She drew in a breath and knuckled the tears away.

Vanja sagged on her six legs, for a moment, then sighed out a soft, musical sound before turning back to Charlotte. She reached out a furry, long-fingered hand. “Come, my dear.”

Charlotte nodded and rose on her own visibly unsteady legs to take the offered hand. “I want to go home,” she said, longing and grief choking her voice.

“I know, dear. But you have more to do yet. There's another test.”

“Wait,” Jess began. “What are . . . ?”

Light burst in a soundless explosion. When Jess blinked away the purple afterimages, both Charlotte and the Sela had vanished.

19

The Blue Ridge was at the height of its autumnal
beauty, its rolling mountains clothed in shades of fire under the afternoon sun.

A smile playing around her mouth, Jess watched a pair of eagles circle each other in an updraft like skaters in a couples' competition. The sun shone warm on her bare breasts, and she tilted her head back, basking in the light. By all rights it should have been far too chilly to stand around naked in the mountains, but Galar had produced some twenty-third-century blanket that generated a warming field. She curled her bare toes into the bright purple fabric. “Damn, nobody's trying to kill me,” she said as that happy realization hit. “I almost forgot what that was like.”

She turned to find Galar, just as naked as she was, doing something with the covered container that was apparently a Vardonese version of a picnic basket. She'd thought he'd been busy with debriefings all morning while she'd been taking her desperately needed nap, but apparently he'd made time to arrange another lovely meal.

Not the least of which was himself. She leered at him happily. He'd folded his uniform with his customary neatness and stacked it beside her own things, his armored boots lined up with her own soft, flexible shoes.

He sat tailor-fashion on the blanket preparing his picnic, an expression of intense concentration on his face that seemed a little over-the-top, considering his task. His bronzed body seemed to glow golden in the afternoon sun, all brawny power and long, elegant muscle ridges.

Thick biceps bunched as he swung four large trays out of the silver container, each shaped like a pie wedge and covered with tiny bite-sized goodies. Beside the container stood a kind of ice bucket that contained three different bottles of wine.

“Why, Master Enforcer,” Jess said, sitting down next to him on the blanket, “are you planning to get me plowed?”

He cocked his head as he poured one of the bottles into a fragile, curving goblet. “Is ‘plowed' a twenty-first-century euphemism for ‘sex'?”

“Nope. It means drunk.”

“Then no.” His grin was downright wicked as he handed her the wine. “In fact, I want you fully aware and appreciative of every last thing I'm going to do to you.”

“You're a bad, bad man, Galar Arvid.” She took a sip of the wine. It seemed to burst on her tongue in a flurry of bubbles that reminded her more of apples than grapes. “Oh, that's nice!”

He cleared his throat, suddenly looking a bit awkward as he announced, “It is so sweet and intoxicating, it reminds me of you.”

Jess gave him a bemused blink. “Uh, thank you.”

Galar reached into one of the trays and lifted out a cube of meat on a tiny skewer. He presented it to her mouth, but pulled it away when she reached for the skewer herself. “I'm supposed to feed you.”

Jess hastily dropped her hand and let him put the cube between her teeth so she could bite it off the skewer.

“Like you,” he said, “this is tender and hot.”

Jess chewed, considering him. The meat was just as delicately juicy as he said, with an exotic taste she found she liked. “It
is
delicious.”

He sighed. “I sound like an idiot, don't I?”

“No, no.” Actually, his awkwardness was kind of sweet, particularly in such a relentlessly competent man. “I'm just wondering what we're doing. I don't seem to have a copy of the script.”

“It's a Vardonese . . . ah, lover's repast. The male is supposed to purchase the most delicious, exotic tidbits he can find. Then he feeds them to his lover, while he tells her how each one compares to her beauty, wit, and intelligence.” He shook his head. “Unfortunately, I don't seem to have a talent for the required lyricism.”

“Well, that's a relief.”

“Oh?”

Jess smiled and took another sip of her wine. “You're almost ridiculously talented at everything else.”

“There, you see?” Galar shook his head in admiration. “You would be very good at giving a repast.” He reached into the tray and chose a delicate pale morsel. She leaned forward and took it between her teeth. “Now this,” he said, “is soft and creamy . . .”

“Like me?” Grinning, Jess chewed. “What is this, cheese?”

He nodded. “Made from
getcari
milk. I bought it in one of the more upscale shops in the Outpost concourse.”

Jess savored her bite. “Yeah? I figured all this came from a vendser.”

Galar stiffened in offense. “I would never get a lover's repast from a vendser. It would be an insult to us both.”

Ooops. She'd just accused him of being tacky. “Oh. Sorry.”

Jess eyed the trays with new respect as he chose something colorful out of one of them. Meats, cheeses, fruits, tiny little pastries . . . How much had he spent on this repast of his, anyway? It would definitely be tacky to ask, but everything looked expensive.

He extended a bright red little globe and cleared his throat. “This
carita
fruit is very juicy, with a sweet, delicate taste.”

I am not going to giggle. I am not going to giggle.
Jess leaned forward and lipped the fruit from his fingers to give her mouth something else to do.

Galar eyed her sternly. “You're laughing at me.”

Mouth full, she shook her head desperately, eyes going wide.

“Goddess, you look like a chipmunk.” He threw his head back and roared with laughter. The threatening giggle burst from Jess's mouth, and she almost choked on her
carita
.

When their laughter finally died, Galar said, “I'm lucky I'm good in bed, because I have no talent for romance.”

Jess whooped at this bit of unself-conscious arrogance, then clamped both hands over her mouth. After a moment, she managed to wheeze, “Yep, you're good in bed, all right.” She cleared her throat. “Very good. Very.” She coughed.

He froze, eyes widening with sudden hurt doubt.

“Oh, cut that out,” Jess said tartly. “How many screaming orgasms have you given me?”

Galar relaxed. “Well, that's true.”

When she started whooping again, he picked up another
carita
and threw it at her. It landed on one breast with a wet plop. Galar pounced, bearing her backward on the blanket, and nipped the fruit off her skin. As she laughed, batting at him, he scooped up a handful of fruity delicacies and smeared them all over her body, painting her with juice and bright, colorful shapes.

“Hey, I thought you were supposed to feed me!” Jess protested as he went to work licking and nibbling at the sticky mess.

Galar looked up at her,
riaat
flames burning in his eyes. “But I'm
hungry
.”

Jess's breath caught. Suddenly she was no longer in the mood to laugh.

He returned his attention to her fruit-smeared body, lapping slowly, pausing here and there to swirl his fingers in juice and spread them over her nipples or clit.

Every few minutes he paused in his licking to feed her some bite from one of the trays. Eyes shuttering in delight, Jess relaxed into the warm blanket, relishing his attentions.

Pleasure unfurled in her body like some exotic orchid, trembling and soft. His hands were warm, his mouth lusciously skilled, his body a feast of hard-muscled strength. And each tidbit he fed her seemed to flood her mouth with a new taste, a new sensation. She moaned softly and let herself float.

Galar watched her
as she sprawled beneath him like a queen allowing a supplicant to pay just tribute to her beauty. Her long, dark hair spilled over the warming blanket, the sun painting it with shimmering highlights. Her blue eyes shone through her thick, half-closed lashes like gemstones nestled in feathers. Her mouth curved into a lazy smile.

Goddess Mother, I love her so, my very heart aches
.

He froze in mid-lick as his mind registered the truth of that realization. For a moment, he waited to panic, but then he realized he felt no fear at all.

Jess, beautiful, courageous Jess, would keep his heart safe.

Though keeping
her
safe would be a full-time job. The next time Charlotte or her Sela friends called for help, Galar knew Jess would be ready to Jump to the rescue again. And the Goddess help him if he dared to protest.

She'd come so close to dying today, his stomach clenched in cold fear at the thought. Nor was the danger over. That idiot Ivar was still out there somewhere with his fellow spies, probably still plotting to kill her. And though the Enforcers had slain one crop of Xeran fanatics, an entire planet of them remained. Galar was going to have his hands full keeping them all at bay.

Luckily, he was more than up to the task. “They are not going to touch one hair on your precious head,” he growled at her.

Jess blinked at him. “Who?”

Galar made no answer. He was suddenly in the grip of a ferocious need to take her. He wanted to surround her, possess her, feel her sex gripping his, her small, silken body bucking against his harder, bigger one.

With a soft growl, he rose to his knees, scooped her little backside into his hands, and positioned his cock at her opening. He drove inside in a ruthless lunge, drawing in a breath as her tight, luscious flesh gripped his.

“Galar!” Jess gasped, her eyes going adorably wide, pink lips parted.

With a groan, he settled over her and took that pretty mouth with his. Still kissing her, he began to pump, seating his cock to the balls with every thrust.

Jess clung to
Galar's powerful shoulders, stunned at the abrupt ferocity of his entry. She was more than ready—that wicked mouth of his had seen to that. But she'd figured he'd insist on driving her crazy for at least another hour or so.