Part 20 (1/2)

aYes.a There was a thump. aMy Mugwort Family is honorable.a Wistfulness rose like a mist within her. Not many people she knew truly believed that the Mugworts were honorable.

She was tugged from falling into the softness of sleep by a twist of anxiety at what she had to do in the morninga”revisit the past that she wanted to leave behind. Get involved in the mess of retribution and murder. She had no doubt that in the days to come, shead have to defend her Familyas honor.

And shead probably see Garrett in the morning regarding the case, but shead already decided to s.h.i.+eld herself from him. She could do that, pretend he was nothing to her . . . until it was true, until the thread between them withered from lack of use. Until she found someone else to love and wed and have children with.

Her face was cool from the dampness of tears when she finally fell asleep.

As usual, Garrett walked around the long rectangular inner courtyard of MidCla.s.s Lodge. The heat of the day was fading and there were others strolling, or sitting on benchesa”those who liked people in the conversational groupings of chairs or people more solitary like him, sitting alone on benches in the garden.

And walking with Rusby on his shoulder was a pain. Everyone who pa.s.sed had to comment and speak to Garrett or try to talk to the Fam. Rusbyas mental shout gave Garrett a headache. The women cooed.

When dark had fallen and most folk had retreated into the building, leaving those whose cycles better fit the night, Garrett stopped by the gate to the beach. He noted that the greeniron would be useless in keeping Rusby in the yard. The kitten could slip under the thing, or between the simple, upright spears. Garrett idly confirmed that this wasnat the gate in his dreams.

a.s.sst!a came from the dark beyond the gate, along with, It is Black-and-White and I have news of your altar man.

Garrettas heart jumped. He scrutinized the shadows beyond the gate but didnat see the cat, only smelled fish and fur-with-a-hint-of-salt-spray.

Not news of the racc.o.o.ns? he asked.

The kits were ready to wean and all scattered. Not a group anymore.

That was a little sad . . . no, disappointing.

We are all looking for each of them, Black-and-White added virtuously. Garrett thought he might be cleaning grains of sand from between his pads.

All right, Garrett projected. He turned and propped his shoulders against the redbrick wall next to the gate. Rusby jumped down and went to sniff at the portal. He gave Garrett a dirty look when he realized Garrett had bespelled all openings of the gate against the kitten. Though Rusby could and did touch noses with Black-and-White, who had slipped through the bars.

Tail waving, Black-and-White sauntered up the flagstone path to one of the doors. Narrowing his eyes, Garrett saw bowls there, a new deal. Huh. Someone must have figured out that feral animals with Fam potential were frequenting the courtyard. He wondered if whoever put the bowls out was looking for a Fam. And whether management knew and/or approved.

What of the background check on the altar man? Garrett called mentally.

All ferals have talked. Even dogs. Even foxes. The cat sniffed. Even housefluffs. We have agreed. No bad stuff. We give the altar man a rating of Very Good Man.

Garrett wanted to cuss, but didnat. Of course that was nice to know. Artemisia deserved a very good man. She didnat deserve Garrett and his problems, his stupidity in hanging on to the past. His cowardice.

Rusby nipped him on the ankle. Since Garrett wasnat wearing boots, that hurt.

aDammit!a At least he could swear at that. He flung out a hand and pulled the kitten into his palm fast with Flair.

Wheeee! Rusby said.

aLetas head on in,a Garrett said.

Garrett needed his woman. Deep and dark in sleep, he knew if she wasnat near, head have wrenching nightmares again. And he knew pain awaited when he woke . . . some sort of emotional pain that was worse than the physical. In his experience, physical pain didnat last as long as heart hurts.

Shead been comfortingly close lately, but now when he reached for her through their bond, it was tiny. He didnat like that. He had to stretch more to find her, search.

She should not be so far away; why had he allowed it?

But he would always be able to find her. She lived in the back of his mind, had since he was seventeen, even when head had Dinni.

Dinni was the past and long gone, had not fit him as well as this woman. His HeartMate. He, the primal man, knew her.

So he broke free from the mindas constraints and reached for her.

Twenty-five.

Garrett gave a satisfied hum when he found his HeartMate. Not sleeping in his bed, pity. But sleeping.

Heat flooded him and he was hard and hungry for her. He didnat remember making love to her in his Pa.s.sage Flair-freeing quests and he needed.

He flung the coverlet off her, slipped next to her. He sensed more than saw her pearly skin, and as he curved his hand around her full breast, felt the weight, he recalled her nipple was light pink until it puckered and flushed with his toucha”there!

She rolled to him, wrapped her arms around him. So good! Being held filled his inner heart-canyons of deep need. Her hands ran along his back and he shuddered at the tactile memory.

Yes, theyad danced this coming together before, long, long ago.

And her scent rose to him . . . the fragrance of her skin, and even better, the blossoming scent of her arousal. To speed things upa”he was so hard he was hurting and he yearned to slide into wet warmtha”he set his fingers on her s.e.x. Another thing so easily remembered, how she liked to be touched, the form of her. The dampness.

Her small moaning whimpers of pa.s.sion that had his breath coming uneven.

She nibbled along his jaw.

He stroked her, teasing her. Teasing himself until need became unbearable.

Until her hands bit into his shoulders and she drew him over her and her body was soft and cradling under him and her hips tilted and he slid into hera”so gooood!a”and then they were rus.h.i.+ng, groaning, her muscles tensile under her soft skin where his hands curved over her bottoma”fine, fine a.s.s. And they rose together and spun into the universe of sparkling stars and endless night and he exploded with her like stars.

And they settled down together, sparks from fireworks, and he became aware of night birds calling outside an open window and the smell of verdant greenness and secrets.

So soft under him. Long tendrils of her silky hair clinging to his face. Her heart beat hard and in tune with his. Made for him. His.

Wonderful, the best.

What the h.e.l.l do you think you are doing! Her angry voice shattered his peace. His heart shrank and his mind struggled to understand.

He was flung back into his own bed, his own room. The smell of kitten and sound of soft snoring was sensed, then lost as her fury thundered along their bonda”their luscious bond that was shrinking to a taut, minuscule fiber.

Whaa? Whaa? Artemisia.

HOW DARE YOU. YOU ARE THE LOWEST OF THE LOW. HAVE YOU NO HONOR?.

aWhat!a But she wasnat listening. His head pounded as he heard the gigantic echo of a door slamming shut.

Panting raggedly, he sat up and put his head in his hands. Then became aware of his own odor. Physically, he hadnat been with the woman, despite all the sensations.